CG thought of telling him she was building a time machine herself but she didn't want it stolen.
"Dunno, you probably need to build one yourself."
CG then turned to the rest of the gang.
"Welp, my theory's out of the water." She whispered.
She the turned back to Owlcity.
"Name's CG BTW. I'm just here with the gang; moved into their apartment.
Edited by Cutegirl920fire on Sep 3rd 2021 at 4:06:54 AM
CG for shortOnly the very finest cuisine for my guests!
Cut to the tropers and owlcity sitting in a mansion. Every troper has a plate of gold in front of them, while Owlcity eats his happily.
The mansion is entirely wooden, with no gold to be seen. It is filled with many images of Owlcity meeting with people from other planets, some of whom look quite important.
thebeatles.com/careersXabby was eating her packed lunch as she already told Mr. Owlcity that she already pack her dinner, when in reality, the food might be casted with hypnotize stuff, but Mr. Owlcity doesn't know that as Xabby didn't tell him. She then looks at CG. Hey, CG, you mind if I handle the questions towards Mr. Owlcity next? Wood and gold questions doesn't help to get to know him better.
“You bowl with 3 middle fingers” Oh hey, a troper wallXabby then ponder to herself He seems to met important people during his trading journey. Not only that, but he also gave medal and seals. I need to ask him about that as it's the only way to get info as he's already too fishy as soon as the townsfolk doesn't know where the gold came from. She then stops pondering as she looks at Mr. Owlcity. So, Mr. Owlcity, I noticed that you not only met some important people, but it seems you're wearing seals and medals. Would you mind explain how you got them and met important people along the way?
“You bowl with 3 middle fingers” Oh hey, a troper wall(Chey was trying to figure out how to eat her block of gold. She tried gently biting into it, then licking, then sucking the block.)
"Hm, needs some salt."
The seals take a look at the gold.
"Yeah, no."
"We can't digest this."
"I mean, it looks delicious, but simple facts of biology prevent us from eating it." The seals take out some Fish Bites.
"This is food from our homeworld, which we can digest. Would you like to try it?"
One of the seals then looks at CG. "Look, think of it this way. If you discovered that everyone else in the universe valued water the way we value, say, diamond, and vice versa, wouldn't you give the rest of the galaxy water in exchange for diamond? It's the same principle, basically, but replace water with gold and diamond with wood."
Data is imaginary. This burrito is real.Xabby just sighs and looks at Playing. Okay, you can ask him only ONE question and that's that, okay?
“You bowl with 3 middle fingers” Oh hey, a troper wallTropesburg, far from the antics up in space
It was only when they finally got a little peace and quiet that Kafka remembered how much they had missed it. It was all they'd wanted when they first moved into the "free studio space" above that apartment in Tropesburg, but unfortunately, the apartment had come pre-packaged with enough wacky misadventures to last a lifetime. And that was if you liked such things. As far as Kafka was concerned, one wacky misadventure in your life was one too many.
That was all behind them, for now. Their frugal lifestyle meant Kafka always ended up with a little money to spare after a while of letting financial interest and the occasional record sales from members of avant-garde electronic musical circles trickle in. They had used that money to rent a proper studio, one on the other side of the city from the apartment, just to make sure the Tropers were as unlikely to disrupt their alone time as possible. So here they were, alone with their bleepers and bloopers and extensive piles of cables, twiddling away uninterrupted, happy as they ever were.
...they pause in the midst of hooking up their granular delay module to the collective output of three separate square-wave additive synthesizers. There is a feeling in the air. A sinister feeling. It feels like... an impending pretentious intra-RP crossover event.
Kafka sighs. Fuck, not this again.
They hear the door caving in just as they're packing away their patching cables. With another, deeper sigh, they prepare for the worst.
The stubby old woman with the abnormally long neck emerges through one door. The platoon of soldiers in identical white heavy armour storm in through the other door, which, were Kafka not currently bracing themself, they'd observe hadn't been there a few seconds ago. There is a hail of gunfire, a piercing explosion, a sudden stab of pain-
The last thing Kafka hears before everything goes black sounds distinctly like a muffled "oh, shit".
In the distant reaches of space...
The spacepod moseying its way through the atmosphere of Owlcity's planet wasn't what one would normally associate with lone mercenary spacecraft. It was a neat, well-kept little thing, gleaming as brightly as the gold on the planet below. Its inhabitant was similarly shiny, and similarly metallic.
De Vallière Robotics Advanced Learning Model SPK-459, "Sparks", the most reliable android mercenary in the five galaxies, tapped the LED-lined visor that passed for his face in deep thought. This was about the time he usually got a nice big shipment of gold from Rufus Owlcity, more than enough to keep him in pocket regardless of how his latest mission might go - or enough to fund his latest mission, if he were feeling especially ambitious, and Owlcity especially keen to share in his spoils. But he hadn't yet received one, and his attempts to contact the Owlcity estate had all gone to speakerphone. Naturally, he had decided to do the standard space-merc think and barge in on Owlcity demanding payment. Politely, though. Sparks was a wild card committed only to his next paycheck, but he was well-mannered about it.
The android glanced behind him. At the back of the shuttle were assorted packed organic lunches - enough food to gift Owlcity and anyone in his chambers with, should all go swimmingly. A little reward for giving Sparks his gold. If Rufus weren't particularly inclined to go the peaceful route, well, that was what the extremely large plasma cannon hung on the wall above the lunches was for. Everything was in order.
Hands shaped like the claws of a junkyard crane gripped the pod's steering bars. He was doing this.
Hail majestic corporate light, heaven born and ever bright!I, who have obviously been with the Tropers the whole time, take a look down at my plate of gold. I decide not to eat it.
"Does it really matter where he got the gold?" I wonder aloud. "It's all over this planet. Clearly it is not something they value. One would think this would be a simple logical conclusion."
she magnificent my bastard till i complete on her monster"Hey After!" Tropes says. "...Are you gonna eat that?"
Ah, yes, Owlcity speaks up, The gold tends to confuse outsiders. But it's is our planet's most abundant natural resource! Wood, on the other hand, cannot be found anywhere on this planet naturally. Indeed, I am one of the very few people on this planet to live in a wooden house! As for my medals, they were awarded from various sources for helping to strengthen the economies of so many planets.
And speaking of economics, when shall we all discuss business?
thebeatles.com/careers"You can have it," I pass my plate over to Tropes.
"Wood, you say..." I regret not having brought my collection of 2x4s up on the trip, but I make a mental note in case we ever come back up here.
"Yes, indeed. You see, Mr. Owlcity, our economy is in shambles, and we are in desperate need of your help. We can even get you another shiny new medal. Or... Would a wooden one be better?"
she magnificent my bastard till i complete on her monsterAs Owlcity speaks to the tropers, a glowing shadow (as oxymoronic as that sounds, just roll with it) can be seen from the window in the background, passing by. A shrill buzz might be heard, but it's easily dismissible. As for whether one dismisses it...let's leave that up for you to decide.
We cut to right outside the door, as a space motorcycle matching the shadow pulls up to the front door. It's sleek and black, with a blue neon trim, and floating right above the ground until its rider turns it off. The rider herself is decked out in a space motorcycle helmet, a black leather jacket, jeans, and thigh high boots that seem to float right above the ground. And around their neck, a golden badge from the Tropesburg police, that the rider tucks right into their jacket.
She takes off her helmet, and lets down her shortly trimmed black and blue hair, muttering to herself. Damn that Mayor Badger. "Expendable" my ass. I could do this just as well-She gets interrupted by a message coming from a device implanted into her ear. Dammit. Hello.
"~tssk-, Bowie! I forgot to mention; Shane from accounting wanted some space sushi from the space 7-11 while you're out. You are going to the space 7-11, right?~"
"...yes. I am on my way to the space 7-11. I am just doing what I need to do to get there."
"~aight, cool, don't forget to grab me a slushie~"
A sigh, and Bowie presses a button, and the motorcycle hides itself under a piece of fabric saying "Not A Space Motorcycle." She begins to sneak her way in, using her arm-blades to climb on the walls, listening in.
and the public won't dwell on my transmission cause it wasn't televised.

"Dang right we are. My name is Chey Prefect, this is my husband Ford, our daughter Delilah, and our mechanoid companion Garfunkel."
"Greetings, Mr. Owlcity, sir!"
Edited by EeveeGirlChey on Sep 3rd 2021 at 6:04:17 AM
"My light shall be the moon, and my path the ocean, my guide the morning star as I sail home to you...."