Log Title: Window Shopping
Summary: Winter does some perusing and snooping. Galen is charming and keeps his shirt on.
IC Date: Wed Apr 03 20:30, 2381
OOC Date: Wed Apr 03 20:30, 2019
Related Logs: None
galenwinter

 

 

"I'm talking cut physique, jaw bones that could slice cheddar, not to mention well endowed."

* OOC Time: Wed Apr 03 18:30:23 2019 *

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Welcome to Sleeves-R-Us! (Name to later be changed when the player is less brain dead)

This rather opulent sleeve resale establishment is perfectly on the legal up and up (honest!) when leasing a sleeve from the Government just won't do. The holos in the main white glossy showroom are tasteful and high definition, showing a myriad of organic options as well as synthetic that the company currently has in stock. Though when money is no object, surely every customizable option can be found or programmed. Currently a single salesperson is on the floor, dressed in a manner befitting a Meth with his finely tailored suit and shiny shoes. A tablet rests against one forearm where he's undoubtedly playing some game to pass the time as he waits for his next sucker. Er. Customer.

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Into this hoighty-toighty establishment steps Winter, wearing a wrap dress that starts blue and fades to sea green by the end of its asymmetrical hem. Their blonde hair is swept back into an artful tousle with a fiber optic flower tucked behind one ear that gradually shifts through the colors of the spectrum. They pause in front of one of the synthetic holo displays of an organic male, expression thoughtful.

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"Oh, hey." Galen apparently completely missed his ONI notification, engaged as he was with his activities on the tablet. He immediately snaps to, his posture straightening and a wide smile plastering on to his features as he goes into full salesman mode. "Didn't see you there." Commented as he strides over. "Though I can't image how anyone would miss such an enchanting creature as you. Please tell me you aren't thinking of a permanent sleeve switch, because you put my inventory to shame."

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Winter glances over at the salesman with one brow hitch upwards and an expression of bemusement on their face. "Tell me, do you practice those lines in the mirror or just crack open a can of them when the situation warrants?" They blink, and then squint a little. "Hang on, have we… met before?"

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"Pure natural talent." Galen assures her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Would I forget a face like yours?" His tongue clucks against his teeth. "The noodle shop that one time, I believe." Which might be a trick of his obscenely upgraded ONI, but whose to say? "And you might have seen me at the Panama Rose, though with far more bruising and blood. Galen Sparks, at your service." A hand is extended.

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Winter snaps their fingers, eyes widening as Galen mentions the noddle shop and the Rose. "You fought Fatale," they recall before clasping Galen's hand in a polite but firm shake. "I didn't recognize you with your shirt on. So, you sell sleeves by day and duke it out in fightdromes by night?"

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Galen shakes enthusiastically. "The one and only. It pays the bills. Though I have a passion for both, so it's less work and more like I get credits to do what I love. And I'd love to put you one of these fine models. I see you're interested in Hank here? Of course, they don't actually have names, but it beats calling him S3155. He's a fine, fine sleeve." Galen reaches out to poke a finger at the Holo, and it immediately changes, the image starting to rotate in its 3D rendering.

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"I'm not actually looking for myself, more scouting ahead for a friend," Winter replies, though they consider ole Hank as he begins to rotate, swapping nuts and berries for full moons and back again. "Something male, fit, handsome, in the late twenties to mid thirties, I'd think."

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"Do you know the price point your friend is looking for? Because old Hank here is great, but I can show you some real choice sleeves. I'm talking cut physique, jaw bones that could slice cheddar, not to mention well endowed. Not every day you get to pick out the new body that your …boyfriend? Is going to wear, might as well dream big." Galen lobs that question in a not so subtle fishing expedition.

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Winter shakes their head. "Friend," they reply. "And I'm not, really. Picking anything out. Just… haven't been sleeve shopping in a while. I suppose I wanted the lay of the land. Let's see some of your cheddar slicers."

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"My heart remains intact for another day." Galen's hand touches his chest in the vague approximation of said organ. With that same smile affixed to his face, he lifts the tablet and just brings up another image on the same screen instead of making Winter walk the show room. "Now have a little gander at this fellow. Never tattooed, pierced or altered. Absolutely spotless medical history. And would you look at that muscle tone. Brown hair, hazel eyes. Six foot even."

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Winter considers, giving a small nod. "That's nice," they agree. "What about something more along this coloration?" Their ONI flickers and sends over a low-res picture of a young, handsome, athletic man with distinctive blue eyes. There's something vaguely generic about him, as if he was the sort of suit only meant to be worn on Sundays. "Ever sell any sleeves like that?"

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"Well, I guess if you want ordinary…" Galen examines the image, and his smile fades just a hint. "Your friend has a particular taste, huh? I mean, if I were flipping through images, I got to say I would have skimmed right past this one. How'd they come to pick this one out?"

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"Wants to be able to blend in without being an eyesore, sometimes," Winter replies. "It can be hard to be discreet if heads always turn when you walk through the door."

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"Well, let's pull up the gallery. I have a lot of mid-price models that might fit the bill then." Galen starts typing up something on his tablet with one finger, narrowing the selection down. "Do you want me to include leases? I mean, they come with our same guarantees, but it means they've had short term users prior. Lotta mileage on them."

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"Sure, let's see the lease options. I'm not sure he'd be interested, but if one of them is a better fit…" Winter's shoulders rise and fall. "I guess your having this particular model would be a little too lucky."

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Galen taps one more time and a series of twelve images pop up on the holo in front of both of them. "Well, this one is a bit close." He motions at the image to one with striking blue eyes that fits the bill. "But this is one of the more expensive ones." He sort of slides in there, all smooth like.

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"Mmhmm," Winter murmurs, their tone suggesting they're not surprised the first option is a pricier one. They consider the holo of the blue-eyed man, watching it rotate a couple times. "Was this one leased recently?"

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"If it was, I assure you it's passed all of our trademarked thirty one point examination when it was returned. We don't sell or lease any lemons, and I stake my name on that. Consider it having the Galen Sparks seal of approval." Cue a widening of his grin.

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"Oof. Wow," Winter murmurs, squinting as if the gleam from that salesman grin is a bit blinding. They consider the sleeve for a long moment before letting out a soft breath. "Mr. Sparks, can I be straight with you?"

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"I'd be offended if you weren't, and please, call me Galen." The man practically purrs as he takes a step closer to Winter. Though he doesn't quite break her personal bubble, he's right on the edge.

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Winter's arms cross as if to provide slightly better insulation as Galen bumps up against their bubble, but they regard the other man soberly and fully. "I do know someone who may be considering a secondary sleeve, but… I'm a friend of Dr. Grey. She and I were the ones who converted what was left of Fatale's DHF to a clean stack for the police, and since that night… I've been trying to understand what happened and why. I don't know if you want those questions answered too, or if you'd rather forget about the whole thing… though I expect Carnage won't be forgetting it or what came after anytime soon." One brow quirks upwards. "I have reason to suspect someone who rented this sleeve, or one very much like it, may be involved in the mess. Do you think you could help me?"

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"I see." Galen says flatly, almost a 180 from his previously cheery disposition. "Tell you what. Leave me the best way to get ahold of you, and I'll look into the history on this particular sleeve myself and get back to you, alright?"

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"Okay," Winter agrees with a small nod. Their ONI flickers as they send the means to message them over to Galen. "Now I think I see the boy in the fightdrome."

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Galen screws back on his smile, but it's not as full and shiny as it was a moment ago. "Sorry for the confusion with wearing a shirt and all, but my boss has this thing about dress code. And you make sure that you come back and ask for me when your friend is ready to talk about the upgrade."

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"I will," Winter replies, returning the smile with a smaller one of their own. "I hope we'll talk again soon, Galen Sparks. Thanks for the tour around the showroom."

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"Consider it my pleasure." Galen practically purrs again.