[OPEN] most mutations are basically just cancer, morty

[wriggedywrecked]

Who: Rick Sanchez and ALL
Where: Rick's chop shop in some slummy corner of Genosha.
When: Throughout the event (8/5-8/9)
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: Rick is a technopathic mutant LIVING ON THE EDGE and he doesn't care about the rebellion but he'll gladly sell weapons and robots to both sides. Need an assassin bot to kill that high profile mutant? Call Rick. Need a computer program to wipe out the rebellion's communication network? Call Rick. Wanna just cause some mayhem? CALL RICK. War profiteering is fun!
The Story:

Rick doesn't give two shits about things like basic human (or mutant) rights and never has. He could care less about the human rebellion, and he literally cares even less about the mutant higher ups, because fuck authority. The best side to be on in any given war is no side at all--and yeah, this might be just a "rebellion" or a "resistance" to the media, but he knows a war when he sees one. If you don't pick a side, you can profit from both sides, and then when circumstances come around to force you to choose, you can usually just run. There's a whole lot of world out there outside Genosha, and Rick's lucky enough that his mutation will let him pass for regular old human out there with the rest of the angry humies.

Besides, anything that happens among the Genoshans isn't going to matter in the long run. The rest of the world has Sentinels, after all. This whole Genosha experiment isn't going to last much longer either way, especially once the rest of the world hears that mutants are oppressing humans over here.

So might as well make bank while the banking is good, right?

Rick can be found through a network of fences and drug dealers and thieves and other scummy sorts. You just have to know who to ask. He sells vacuum cleaners in a shitty part of town as a front, but the real business is in the basement, because all real businesses are in basements. Just bring money, an air-gapped computer, and a few passwords, and you might be able to get a face to face Rick, assuming he lets you past his SEVEN PROXIES.

Also just know that if you cross him, he can kill you with your own fucking toaster and probably has. He also has an army of robots at his disposal.

Don't fuck with The Rick or you gon get wrecked.

Comments

ayyy lmao

[normandysbest]

Shepard snickers in the vacuum cleaner shop, gently flicking one of the metal bottoms with a small 'pang' as she heads towards the back. This isn't the first time she's been here, and it certainly won't be the last. She doesn't agree with all his methods, but there's no denying his process- if you need something technological done, you get Rick to do it. And she just doesn't have time for a lack of results; not with the way the island's rolling these days. So she whispers a few passwords, slips in the back, and waits to see if he'll actually greet her or just send a robot to blow a raspberry in her face. Either or.

They're friends. Kinda.

"Hey Rick! You in?"

[wriggedywrecked]

Well hey, it's one of his favorite customers. Dropping by unannounced, which isn't his favorite thing in the whole world, but then again no one ever really shows up here unannounced. Not when he's mentally tapped into every security camera for two blocks. Even the red light cameras! Man, mutants are shit at obeying traffic laws.

The initial back room is basically just your average office, with a desk and some other office-like shit. It's the door in the very back sealed with approximately ten billion electronic locks or passwords that leads to where the real magic is. And it's from this door that he emerges.

"Shep Shep Sheppy-Shep, isn't this a pleasant surprise?"

He grins at her. He actually does kind of like her, inasmuch as he likes anyone, human or otherwise.

He takes a swig from a hip flask. "Wh-What can I do you for? The biometrics on that gun I gave you still working?"

[normandysbest]

She snorts as he approaches, making up nicknames and probably half-drunk, as usual. She halfheartedly wishes she could spend as much of her days plastered as he does, but a rebellion doesn't run itself, after all, and she's got too many people she needs to protect. Maybe someday. But for now, she just folds her arms, keeps on smiling. She didn't just come here to hang out, after all.

"Yeah, workin' fine." The gun in question is in the backpack she's carrying, which she reaches into to pull out a longer metal device with curved plates. "Came for a tune-up on the tac cloak. If I click it out before it times itself out to recharge it's been sending static shocks into my spine and I'd really rather it not do that. Makes it hard to stay quiet on recon missions when it feels like I'm being stabbed in the back. Literally."

[wriggedywrecked]

He is almost always either half drunk or more than half drunk or all drink. Never anything less.

He tilts his head as she pulls out the tac cloak, eyeballing it first and then giving it a mental ping. It's sort of like talking to it, except that 90% of the time, electronics don't really talk back, not unless they've got a pretty advanced AI installed. That's always the fun part, talking to nascent AIs, teaching them to swear and shit like that.

For all other electronics and technology, it's more like...communicating in numbers and impressions. Kind of like converting your natural thought processes to binary. Or HTML, or CSS or whatever.

"Well shit, someone's cranky. Lemme take a closer look."

He takes the device and kicks a section of wall that unfolds into a workbench, then he sets the device on it, laying it as flat as possible.

"Probably a short. Shouldn't be too hard to fix."

[normandysbest]

Honestly, it's always been pretty fascinating to watch him work, even though this is the part she enjoys most- when she presents him with a piece of technology and he just stares at it for a few seconds, like he's a kid trying to invent laser vision and seeing if he can melt his plastic car. She knows, logically, that's not what he's doing, but it doesn't make it any less amusing to watch. It's a power she always fancied she'd like- she already feels so at home around her rifles, digging through lines of code, wrist-deep in the tech that makes the city run- but, alas, it's not for her. So she has Rick, and money, and leaning against the wall while he gets to work.

"Didn't figure it would be. I just prefer to get you to fix this sort of stuff. You know your own tech best." She's done tune-ups and minor fixes on his stuff, before, but he always catches her if she has to bring it in for something major. So at this point she just avoids the hassle.

"So what's it saying? 'Ah, damnit, I've been caught being a pissbaby'? Or, let's see, 'Look man, I'm having a bad day, just make it quick'?"

eyoooo 8/5

[rosswood]

It doesn't matter if he's a mutant. Objectively, it does, fair enough, but he's got his fingers in an awful lot of pies. Worked real hard at making himself indispensable, as you do when you're playing both sides of this little war. It doesn't matter one way or another. Kralie has need of something, and he knows exactly where to go to get it.

Not that Rick would trust him as far as he could throw him. Fair enough. Kralie would put a bullet in his brain if he could, it's just that Rick makes himself that goddamn untouchable, so he works with it. He dings the little bell on the front test of the vacuum cleaner place, leaning up against the counter.

And then he dings it again, and again. C'mon, Rick. You've got someone who needs some quality explosives, stat.

[wriggedywrecked]

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your dick in a t-twist, holy fuck, hold on!"

The voice issues from his back office. Rick emerges shortly there after, tipping back and apparently draining a hip flask as he walks out. He burps loudly, wipes his mouth, shoos away another random customer, and looks over to find out who's leaning on the goddamn bell.

Christ, this asshole again.

"Kralieeeeee." He drags out his name for almost five full seconds as he strolls across the store, grinning. "Here for another Roomba, huh? What, break the last one already?"

It's code, but only sort of. Rick kind of makes shit up as he goes.

[rosswood]

Rick is just one of those necessary evils Kralie will have to live with. He's tolerable on good days at least, even if "tolerable" is a long way from "likeable". He leans against the countertop, counting out bills with affected nonchalance.

"No Roombas," he says evenly, pausing as he tries to think of a reasonable and socially-acceptable substitute for I need some C4. He could probably get some from other sources, but there's a reason he's here. Rick's damn good at what he does, no question. Probably the best out there, even if he's a goddamn snake.

"You know where I could get some smoke detectors?" Yeah, it's not a vacuum-related buzzword, but it's not like Rick has any consistency when it comes to this shit.

[wriggedywrecked]

Rick makes a few "hm-hm" sounds and drums his fingers on the counter, mentally putting a few of his nearby robots into alert mode. Kralie might be a regular, but Rick trusts him about as far as he can throw them. He trusts most people about as far as he can throw them. There are psychos on both sides of this stupidass rebellion and Kralie is one of the psychoest.

"Yeeeah, yanno, I actually just came into a whole supply, got delivered to the wrong address and fucked if I'm g-gonna try and navigate the goddamn Genoshan postal service. Figured I'd, I'd just sell 'em anyway."

He gestures to Kralie like he's a dog.

"Got 'em in the back, follow me."

He heads toward his back office.

[video forever]

[goodwoofjames]

Sirius is no stranger to Rick's shop, although he usually goes in before a planned raid. Today's different. And it shows in how Sirius keeps his eyes on the "merchandise" at the front of the shop before he moves up to the counter, where he continues to look anywhere but at Rick's face.

"Hey. You got anything, uh. Small. Discreet. But still packs a punch?"

He tugs the sleeve of his leather jacket down absently.

[wriggedywrecked]

This kid is something of a regular, and he's usually a bit of a cocky shit, so the fact that he's acting shifty now sets off quite a few alarm bells. Rick sends a couple mental pings to some of the nearest robots and computers. When a regular is acting shifty it's usually a good indication that you're gonna have to close shop early.

"Man, I got these weird ass Dust Devils that are like, l-like small enough to fit in a purse. Here, follow me, got 'em in the back room."

This one's got something up his sleeve, literally. Fortunately, Rick does too, both literally and metaphorically. He waves his hand and makes a show of turning his back on Sirius, as if nothing at all is wrong.

Behind them at the front door, the neon "Open" sign switches off and the electronic locks click quietly into place.

Rick leads Sirius into his office, where he does all of his legal and illegal and semi-legal business. He crosses his arms over his chest.

"So, what, a gun this time, or you want something m-more interesting?"

[goodwoofjames]

Sirius stands just inside the doorway. He doesn't feel threatened by Rick, but he knows the company Rick keeps. He wants at least the illusion of an easy getaway.

He licks his lips before he speaks. "Gun might be a bit too much for day-to-day. But I still need something that can take down a mute, if need be."

Which would likely be the only need, after all. He's not here because he got jumped by a bunch of humans. After a moment's consideration, he adds:

"Nonlethal, if possible. It's not about that."

It's about getting himself home safe and not attracting attention in doing so.

[wriggedywrecked]

Ohhh. That explains it. So the kid isn't bringing a raid or anything, that's good. It seems more like he's just nervous after some kind of bad experience. Probably got mugged or some shit. Oh well, sucks to be him.

"Nonlethal's no fun but whatever. I got just the thing."

He kicks the wall and his workbench unfolds, complete with a laptop. He types a quick command into the laptop and there's a whirring sound from the ceiling. A few moments later, a robot arm extends downward and sets a small box on the workbench, then retracts.

Rick opens the box and pulls out what looks like a freaking vape.

"Designed this myself. It's basically a stealth-taser, except instead of just shocking someone it actually literally disrupts electric signals in the target's body. Straight-up paralyzes them for a solid minute. And it looks like a vape, so if anyone asks you're just a douchey vaper."

8/6, later in the day.

[charlastan]

Stan and Rick go way, way, way back. That's what happens when you've drifted in as many criminal circles as Stan has. He's supplied Stan with countless "vaccuum cleaners" over the years, and Stan's probably done him a favor or two. Frankly, he's one of the only people Stan would do a favor for and it's only stubbornness that won't let him admit Rick's probably one of the closest things he has to a...a frieeend? Is he pronouncing that right?

Today he's there on business though. He knows all the passwords and all the bullshit to get downstairs, but he doesn't feel like it, so he slams his hand on the bell a couple times.

"SANCHEZ!" he shouts. "I'VE GOT AN UNUSUALLY STUPID JOB FOR YOU AND I DON'T FEEL LIKE LUGGIN' THIS BOX AROUND!"

The box in question is sitting at his feet. It has a leather jacket thrown over it in what must be a flame resistance measure, because there's a vague smell of burning coming from it, and...laser noises? And tiny yips? "Unusually stupid" doesn't even begin to cover this job.

[wriggedywrecked]

There aren't very many people on this godforsaken island that Rick actually likes, but Stan is one of them. They've known each other for practically a billion years at this point, gotten in and out of several scrapes together.

It's late enough that there's no one in the store, and frankly, Rick doesn't actually get that much real vacuum cleaner business as it is, so whatever. Stan is of course leaning on the bell, because that's what he does when he's annoyed about something. Rick watches him on the CCTV screen for a second, grinning to himself and letting the guy sweat, eyeing some trails of smoke rising from that box of his.

This should be interesting.

Finally he leaves his office and steps out into the store proper, spreading his arms like he hasn't seen Stan in a million years, when actually it's been more like a week.

"¿Eyyy, cómo estás, ese? Boy are you f-fucking lucky this store ain't bugged. The fuck you want, Stan?"

[charlastan]

It's the longest minute of Stan's life, but he holds out - he knows damn well Rick's in there, and sure enough he pops up eventually and all the irritation leaves him immediately. He even mirrors the gesture - they've probably greeted each other this way hundreds of times by now.

"Eyyy!" He laughs and looks up around them. "C'mon, like anyone could ever bug this place without you findin' out about it in five minutes or less."

Usually he follows through with all the secrecy though - the truth is, he kind of appreciates the showmanship. Why be a sketchy business at all if you're not going to go the extra mile to look the part?

"I got stuck sellin' somethin' myself 'cause my client wouldn't take the goods and Rico's gonna fucking murder me if I don't come back with the cash for 'em. Turns out they're a real pain in the ass to look after though - long story short, I need a box. A box a bunch of puppies won't suffocate in...that's also laser-resistant. For reasons."

He takes the jacket off the box and wow, there sure are excitable puppies in there. As soon as they realize they're getting attention they yip excitedly at Rick and Stan, and start firing their eye lasers in every direction. Stan quickly tosses the jacket over the box again before they can do too much damage.

"They're gonna burn a hole through that old thing eventually," he points out. It's already starting to smoke again.

[wriggedywrecked]

"W-Well they sure haven't invented the technopath who can, who can beat me yet, and I-I'm not holding my breath."

Though a lot of people would looove to see that happen. Some technopath upstart who'd probably be loyal to the Genoshan government, getting to take down old Rick Sanchez. The higher ups would love it.

Rick's gonna make sure it never happens.

"Fucking clients, am I right? And damn that's a, uh, that's a pretty specific request."

He bursts out laughing when he sees the puppies because holy shit.

"Holy shit, I fucking want one."

Who wouldn't want a laser puppy?

"But shit yeah, I can manage something like that. Generate a small electromagnetic field, some light absorbent metal, that way they're not shooting each other, either. B-Bring 'em down to the basement, I-I'll see what I have."

He waves his hand and heads for the hidden elevator that will take them downstairs.

[ceruleans]

She's refreshingly at home with people like Rick -- people who skirt the edge of morality, mutants who can pass for human and have the luxury of being able to hide without having to shift out of his normal skin.

She's a regular here, as far as she knows, and when she shows up it's as much a social call as anything else. She's more than aware that he runs a risky business, and while she's pretty sure he can take care of himself -- she just wants to check, okay?

Besides, she's got Business to do with a capital B. She sets her hands flat on the counter, blue fingers splayed out against the scratched glass.

"I need some replacement parts for my Hoover." So what if 'hoover' is a loose term for the trapping gun that she's got in plain sight on her hips, looking a little worse for the wear? It could mean her damn vacuum hose. "Something with a little more ... kick."

[wriggedywrecked]

Boy, he's getting all of his regulars all at once these past few days. It's exciting. Maybe they'll finally start calling this war what it is. Wouldn't that be hilarious? Watching that idiot queen try to spin it. The lady is not very good at spin.

Either way, something big is happening, and business is booming thanks to it.

Mystique is one of his favorites, too. She's all famous and shit. It's like having a goddamn celebrity walk into your corner store. Always good for business when she comes around.

He grins when she walks up.

"Well you're in luck, I've been working on modding some of the Hoover models, got all kinds o-of shit, better suction, filters, the works. Y-You wanna step in the back and check it out?"

That gun she's packing looks like it needs some TLC.

[ceruleans]

She's been calling it a war privately for years, now, but it just isn't condoned by the Queen...and as much as she likes being famous, she knows she should probably not overstep this particular boundary -- call it the one thing she'd learned in her youth.

"That's perfect timing, isn't it? Must be my lucky day. Show me what you got." He'd have to be blind not to see the events ramping up in the way that they are, and she's glad the suspicion he was smart enough to take advantage of it was correct.

Once they head to the back, she drops the gun unceremoniously on the nearest table.

[wriggedywrecked]

"M-M-My timing's always perfect."

It literally isn't.

But whatever, he leads her into the back, which is basically just a totally nondescript office, but when Rick taps a certain section of wall, a small workbench folds outward. It's got all the usual tools. Rick slides the gun toward him when she sets it down, then picks it up, peering down the sight line, testing its weight.

"Balance is way off, a-angle's skewed. The hell'd you do, throw it against a wall a few times? M-M-Might be easier to just replace it. Could get you something way better."

8/6

[reverseengineer]

[It's not that Pidge trusts Rick. Quite the opposite, honestly. But mutant or not he's involved with enough shit that if he chose to get her in trouble, she could take him down with her, and she needs to get supplies for her tech somewhere. Amazing how hard it is to go to legitimate places when you're trying to build and fix the tech that keeps you passing as a mutant when in truth you're a human spying on mutants.

Besides, he's not terrible to bounce ideas off of. Even if his powers mean he's cheating.]

My hoverboots keep dragging left. I need to fix the steering mechanism.

[wriggedywrecked]

[He kind of likes her, in the sense that she's smart and sharp and doesn't take anyone's shit, and he's always liked those qualities in people. That's not to say he wouldn't kill her or engineer her death in some way if it came to it, but eh, whatever, it is what it is.]

M-Might be the thrusters, fuckers started outsourcing some of the parts to fucking China, been having, uh, h-having all sorts of fuckery with the stabilizers in these things lately.

[You can't talk a machine into working if some of the parts are faulty. Bullshit.]

Gonna cost you.

[reverseengineer]

You'll get paid.

[Not technically by her. She could never afford his services. But it's amazing what you can do when you're employed by a government you hate and have the technical skills and cleverness to move the money around and mask the numbers. The Genoshan government is paying for the tools she uses to spy on them, and if all goes well, they'll never know. She's pretty sure Rick doesn't care where the money comes from, so it all works out.]

This mean you've got better thrusters for me?

[wriggedywrecked]

I'm thinking an advance this time. I-Island being a goddamn powder keg and all. Never know when the dollar's gonna, gonna start being glorified green toilet paper.

[Civil wars tend to be bad for the economy and all.]

But yeah. Boot thrusters...

[He flips open a laptop and types in a few buttons. A moment later, a robot that basically looks like a Roomba with a few knives attached to it emerges from a hidden chamber in the wall and crosses the floor to Rick's side. He holds out his hand without even looking and an appendage extends upward from the Roomba, holding a small foil-wrapped box.]

Here we go. Got so sick of w-working with that Chinese shit I just went ahead and built some myself. With a couple of f-fun mods, since I know you like that shit.