A trail of aching derrières- next time they'll be more thoughtful

[gone_byebye]

The door opens onto an expanse of asphalt, steel, and glass. Nearby a sign reads:

WELCOME TO WHITE FLINT MALL
BEST PRICES IN THE DC AREA

4708 BETHESDA AVENUE
CHEVY CHASE, MD

It's a big parking lot, with the mall itself only visible off in the distance. Ray gives it the squint-eye before turning to the others. "Okay, people," he says. "This is it. Johnny says it's underground. Egon's best estimates indicate three miles down. Are we good?"

Comments

Team Solid

[gone_byebye]

"Okay," Ray says as the group starts proceeding down one of the corridors. "I've got some basic maps of the structure, but-"

"But?" echoes the local Peter. "Ray, 'but' is not a word that inspires a lot of confidence in me. What 'but'?"

"But, uh, I don't actually have any of the specifics."

"You're the only one who's been here before, Ray-"

"Um, excuse me," says a slightly reedy-sounding voice from a little ways up ahead. "I haven't gone and gotten stuck back on Level D, have I?"

The speaker is a man somewhat older than Ray, with greying hair, angular brows, and a certain cast to his features that indicates that he could probably do with a bit more exercise than they gave him here. He's peering out of what's ostensibly part of the ventilation system.

"Hey, you're not with the creep-bags who stuck me in here," he says, peering at the motley crew in the hallway. "Did you hit an equipment locker or something? That looks like confiscated gear."

Re: Team Solid

[redsnout.livejournal.com]

"Phhrrt?" Red can't help but be a little curious as to why there's a human hiding up there. This demands investigation.

The raptor trots forward, peering back at the man and shoving her snout forward to sniff noisily, tilting her head from side to side as she eyeballs him. He doesn't look like something worth attacking, at least not yet.

Re: Team Solid

[gone_byebye]

The man's eyes do this:

o__o

-__-

-__O


"Oh, wow! Now that's what I call an animatron!" the man exclaims enthusiastically, wriggling one hand out of the shaft in an attempt to reach the raptor's nose. In the process several small items fall all over the floor- pocket change, bits of scrap metal, crumpled inked-up bits of paper, and the like. "oh dang."

Re: Team Solid

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

Peter just snickered at him, "Oh man, are you off. Just call us the cavalry. You know the way around this joint?"

Re: Team Solid

[gone_byebye]

"Pretty much, although almost entirely from the inside," says the man. "I'm an effects and lighting wizard. My name's Mike. Could you get those things please? My duplicate maps aren't gonna do me much good if your robot there tramples them." He gestures towards the scribbled papers on the floor. "Thanks."

Re: Team Solid

[redsnout.livejournal.com]

Red sticks her nose farther forward, snuffling at the man's hand. She doesn't feel like an animatronic. And it's doubtful that most animatronics have a feature that gives them breath that smells like a slaughterhouse. She's distracted soon enough by the falling objects though, and curiously pokes at them. "Snhrt?"

But she does understand his request, and so she carefully picks up one of the crumpled pieces of paper in her mouth, offering it to the man.

Re: Team Solid

[gone_byebye]

".... you're biological?" says the man, blinking several times. "Whoa. No wonder these hosers wanted you so badly. Oh, thanks," he adds, taking the paper. "How many of you can crawl through the shafts behind me? Because that's mostly what the maps are good for."

Re: Team Solid

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

Peter retrieved some more of the maps, showing them to Ray.

"She's a dinosaur, yeah. As for crawling... aw man, do we have to?" He groaned with a glance to the rest of his team.

Re: Team Solid

[redsnout.livejournal.com]

The crawling plan doesn't sound particularly good to Red, either...mainly because she's not sure if she can fit. She eyeballs the shaft warily, tilting her head to the side and then taking a step back. "Khht."

Re: Team Solid

[gone_byebye]

"I'm not sure we can, Peter," Ray says as he stares at the papers. "Naraht here's not going to fit through-"

"HOLY COW WHERE DID YOU GET THE HORTA?" says Mike, who apparently lost all concept of 'inside voice' during his time on level D.

[stilljustandrew]

Starfleet. Where else would you get a Horta?

*Andrew pats Mike on the arm.* There's dimensional crossover going on. You get used to it.

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

"Uh, can we save the geek convention for later, guys, and get focused?" Peter then said.

"We got any other options *besides* crawling through tiny spaces?"

[gone_byebye]

"Ohhhh," says Mike. "Okay. Well- huh. Can any of you do any kind of tracking in the dark? Do you have infrared capability? Can the dinosaur track by smell? Because if that's the case I can make this a whoooole lot easier for you." He gestures upwards. "They tried bribing me a couple of times with information about the local electrical routing, which was a big mistake on their part. Especially after I lifted one of the guards' PDAs. It's been wrecked since, but I know the wiring around here like the inside of my eyelids. I can go through the ventilation system and knock out the lights as we go, if you've got flashlights. If you don't, I can make a point of stopping at the vents to let your dinosaur there catch wind of me. Would that work?"

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew grins, and points at Mike.*

Oh I like him.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht chuckled.

"I think I can do one better than that," he says. He rummages around in his equipment and pulls out a spare communicator. A few quick adjustments are made and he hands it over to the techie.

"There. Keep an open channel and we'll track you just fine. Now...I believe we are looking for a particular office."

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, fine. We good then? Because I'll bet Peck's getting really anxious, and we don't want to keep our ol' buddy waiting do we?" Evil, evil grin on his face.

[gone_byebye]

Mike chews on his bottom lip a moment. "I don't think I know that name," he says uncertainly.

Ray steps forward. "He's about this tall, red hair, bulgy eyes, straggly mustache that looks like he bought it at a Ron Jeremy garage sale, bit of a goatee, real pale-"

"Oh, him! Okay, yeah,' says Mike. "The weird guy. Him I can find. He's this way."

Without further ado he sticks the communicator in his pants (please do not ask where) and starts scrambling back into the ventilation shaft.

[redsnout.livejournal.com]

Red watches for a moment, then trots along, following Mike from the ground. She can smell him easily enough, and she's interested in finally finding this particular Peck human. The raptor can't help but be game for a possible opportunity to bite someone.

[stilljustandrew]

*The team follows the ventilator shaft down the hallway. At one point they step aside to let a hunched-over man scurry past them, clutching an armload of old-fashioned fanfold printout and muttering wildly under his breath. He gives them a cursory glance and hurries on.*

*At the end of a twisting length of corridor, by a door with a small glass window set in it, a grill pops out of the ventilator shaft, followed shortly by a grinning Mike. Andrew peers at him.*

This the place?

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Sure is!" Mike says. "Big one, too. Son of a bitch has got some clout with the higher-ups."

"Well, there's no accounting for taste. Or good sense, for that matter," Naraht says. Needless to say, the door (and a hefty portion of the wall) doesn't stand much of a chance against his ire. But, as he breaks through, there's small sound of disappointment. "Not here. If I was incredibly petty and trashed his office, would that reflect badly on me as a Starfleet officer?"

[gone_byebye]

"This is me not noticing a single thing you might possibly consider doing," Ray says. "Although it might be a good idea to take his hard drives and USB drives and stuff first. You never know. That kind of stuff might come in handy."

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

"Aww, let Naraht have some fun. Come on, hasn't this whole plan warmed the cockles of your heart with the opportunity to get him like this?"

Peter then held up the thrower, "Speaking of which, who's up for a barbeque?"

He looks around the office, "Here, Peck. Come out, come out wherever you are. Pete's got that fruit basket for ya."

Whoops, was that his bookshelf that just got flambeed? Could have sworn there was a ghost there.

[redsnout.livejournal.com]

Red watches for a moment, her head tilted to the side, then decide sto join in. She's carefully to keep her distance form peter though, prefering to wander around and gnaw on things, or swipe at them. Some of the swipes aren't even on purpose; the office isn't really built for a dinosaur, and it's hard nto not occasionally knock into things.

[spark-girl.livejournal.com]

The clack of metal bits striking metal can be heard off in the distance.

Lots of metal bits. And they're coming closer.

Finally, catching up with them around a turn, a small swarm of dingbots arrive. Agatha follows, close behind. She's slightly flushed, but grinning. Was her gun that large before?

"Sorry about that -- I paused a moment, there was this fascinating device that I just had to get a closer look at -- and I knew I'd get caught up faster if I had a few dingbots to help track you down . . . did I miss anything?"

[gone_byebye]

"Mostly we met a new friend who's been helping us through the complex," Ray says. "Mike, this is Agatha Clay; Agatha, this is-"

The man is staring down at the dingbots with an utterly awed expression on his face. "Mike Jittlov," he says, sticking out a hand to the girl. "These are yours? All of them? Totally improvisational? Oh, wow."