Lex and Ar-Gent

Log Title: Lex and Ar-Gent

Characters: Ar-Gent Silverfinger, Interrogator

Location: Southeastern United States - North America

Date: March 02, 2021

Players: Sabels (Interrogator), AlphaRaposa (Ar-Gent Silverfinger)

TP: Attack of the Killer Potatoes TP

Summary: Interrogator meets up with the leader of Evil, Inc.

As logged by Interrogator - Tuesday, March 02, 2021, 4:44 PM

Southeastern United States - North America[]

Like the Northeastern US, this area extends from the Mississippi to the Atlantic and encompasses a variety of states, including those states most associated with the Old South. Once considered a backward region, the South has indeed risen again to become an area of culture and industry.

Ar-Gent Silverfinger is at a beach in Florida, sitting on the sands and smoking an enercig while some human minions in sharp suits hawk vodka and hand out brochures for Martian timeshares nearby. Ar-Gent himself is a major draw, and he uses that to his advantage, greeting tourists with a bright smile and posing for pictures before waving them over to the booth.

Ar-Gent Silverfinger[]

A tall Junkion whose armor is mostly a matte black patterned after a business suit, complete with shiny dress shoes. White shows through where the 'suit' falls open, with a perfectly adjusted bow tie. Silverfinger's hands are, in fact, silver, and he wears a black patch over one eye. Which eye it is changes from scene to scene. He is often seen with an enercig either in hand or holder.

Interrogator has heard about this and flown over in his civilian disguise. He lifts his purple John Lennon glasses to the top of his head and studies Ar-Gent.

Alexander Markov[]

A substantial, intimidating figure wearing a black shirt that says "Cleverly Disguised as a Responsible Adult". On his lower body he is wearing dark blue jeans. On his face are round glasses with purple lenses and he's wearing a black skull cap.

Ar-Gent Silverfinger leans over, elbows propped on his knees as he addresses a curious child. "Yes, my company really is named Evil Incorporated. I actually inherited it when the previous CEO died. Poor soul- tried to take on a bit too much and it blew up on him." He smiles for a picture before the child's parents hurry her away.

Several people nearby speculate on how much of this is real and how much is staged.

Interrogator smirks and says, "I've seen that happen. I'm Alexander Markov, and I've heard of your organization. How did you develop your Vodka?"

He studies the bottles, appraising them.

Ar-Gent Silverfinger gives Interrogator a bright smile. "An excellent question, thank you! We actually started growing potatoes as our pilot program for developing a properly organic farm on Mars. They're a good test case. And, naturally, once we succeeded, we had many potatoes going uneaten. What better use, then, than to turn them into a high-quality product that will last for a long time?" He shifts over just enough to gesture to the boxes on the stand. "We've completed extensive testing to ensure the product's purity as well as safety for human use. I found many of my employees to be enthusiastic participants."

Most of the bottles are in sturdy wooden boxes with plush lining- one has been opened so that the curious can see the contents.

Interrogator nods and says, "Very wise. I'm interested in a case. I have many Vodka-Loving friends and they'd be thrilled to try Mars Vodka. It looks very clear."

He picks up a bottle from the open box and hold it up to the sun, carefully swirling it to see if any impurities present themselves.

It is very clear, the only thing obscuring the light is the slight molding of the glass bottle to give it a brick pattern on the outside as well as Evil Inc's logo of the Disco Star. Ar-gent waves a hand. "Well, we accept all forms of currency. Cash, check, credit, gold bullion, Galactic creds, and, of course, good old shanix."

Interrogator carefully puts the bottle back in its cradle and says, "With my line of work, I prefer cash, although I am interested in learning more about Galactic Creds and Shanix."

He glances at one of the brochures as a minion hands it to a lady wearing gaudy faux-diamond jewelry.

Ar-Gent Silverfinger nods. "Oh, well, you can't buy or sell in most galactic markets without having some creds on hand. Shanix, is, sad to say, considered something of a 'low' currency in a lot of markets. Cybertronian origin, you know." He takes a thoughtful drag on his enercig. "But I'm not choosy. There's a place in my pump for all forms of currency, no matter its origins or nature." The brochures advertise Evil Inc's Martian timeshares- the price puts it out of reach for almost anybody who isn't pulling in a 7 figure salary, but people take the flyers anyway for the novelty value.

A minion offers Alexander one and he accepts it, as well as any other information is offered, asking, "Where could I trade cash for Galactic Credits?"

Ar-Gent Silverfinger gives Interrogator another brillant smile. "Why, I could give you a competitive rate! But if you'd rather go elsewhere, there are places on Vilnacron station right in orbit locally that could help you out."

Alexander rubs his chin thoughtfully and says, "I'll have to tell Interrogator so he can pass it on up the CoC. He has mentioned Vilnacron and is always on the lookout for new tech and info. Is there a way I can give him to speak with you?"

Ar-Gent Silverfinger gives Alexander a thoughtful look. "Part of an org, hmm?" He opens up a slim panel on his chestplate and pulls out a human-sized business card. "My card," he says, offering it. "You may need a long range boost to reach me if I'm off-planet, but the phone number goes to an answering service that can get the message to me within a standard day." The card declares Ar-Gent to be CEO and CFO of Evil Inc, and lists several radio frequencies as well as the phone number. It is not a toll-free number.

Interrogator smiles and says, "Excellent, and smart. Toll free numbers, worthless.

He looks thoughtful for a moment and asks, "Have you thought about growing marijuana on Mars? It's great for air quality and I know some guys a little younger than me who are second-generation growers. They'd be willing to move to Mars to grow it and oversee everything."

Ar-Gent Silverfinger arches his optic ridges. "Really? I've heard there's quite the health movement but hadn't invested in it just yet." He pauses to consider, tapping the hand holding the enercig against his chin. "Well, now that we've established the viability of farming on Mars, we do grow a variety of vegetables in order to reduce import costs for the timeshares. It wouldn't be hard to clear some space and attempt a trial of something more medicinal. Mind you, our human staff is still fairly small. Anybody who came to work for me would have to be able to handle being outnumbered and outsized by most of their coworkers."

Interrogator chuckles and nods, saying, "They're Cobra, they can handle it. They do have fiancees who would also go with them. I'll make sure they get a copy of this card, and pass it up the CoC. I'm really not in the position to make major decisions, but I know Big Shot and Gargoyle, and they'd be up for it.

He winks and says, "I can personally attest to the fact they have QUALITY product."

Ar-Gent Silverfinger ahs. "Cobra, hmm? Interesting outfit. Had a bit of setback recently, but it's good to see they're still pushing ahead." He leans a bit closer and drops his voice. "I'm a big believer in helping people to reach their goals. Whether it's staff or business partners, the more satisfied someone is with their work and work environment, the more effective they are."

Interrogator drops his voice and stretches up as close as possible to Ar-Gent's "ears" while looking him in the "eyes" and says, "I'll be sure to let them know. Maybe this can lead to a mutually beneficial relationship for both our organizations."

Ar-Gent Silverfinger gives out a cheerful laugh. "Oh, let's hope so! I sell a lot more than vodka, though usually to a larger audience." He gestures with his hands to indicate someone more his size. "I'll have to see if Inferno's available. He's a bit of a free-lancer. Might appreciate another vector for employment."

Looking thoughtful, Alexander says, "Inferno. I'll remember that. If you ever see the Sky Serpent with the designation "Peklabog", that's Interrogator's craft. As you know, Cobra has our own space station, the Solar Serpent."

Ar-Gent Silverfinger nods. "I've seen it when I've been out and about," he waves a hand vaguely. "Haven't stopped by without an invitation. I don't particularly enjoy being shot at."

Alexander gives Ar-Gent a knowing smile and says, "Interrogator isn't a cowboy, he's a Gunslinger. 'Draw me not without provocation, sheathe me not without resolution' as the saying goes."

Ar-Gent Silverfinger nods in friendly agreement. "Never point a weapon at something you're not willing to destroy, as the saying goes. I fully agree. You should never make empty threats."

Alexander gives a slight smile and a wink and says, "I think you'll both get along well." 5r He pulls out $100 bills and pays for the case of Vodka, saying with a quick smile, "Before I forget due to such stimulating conversation. I have a feeling this will be as good as Russia's best, maybe better, and I'm tired of Russian Vodka."

He mutters, "...And that's not all, Natalia, you witch."

Ar-Gent Silverfinger quickly verifies the bills and nods for one of the humans manning the stand to write up a receipt. "Excellent! Do you need someone to help you transport your selection to your car or dwelling?"

Interrogator shakes his head and says, "Thank you, but I have transportation."

He holds up the card and says, "I'll make sure this gets to the right people." He then picks up the case and begins heading towards the dock where there is a small boat named 'Snakes A Lot'.

Ar-Gent Silverfinger gives him a cheerful wave. "Good doing business with you!"