Lifting for a living

[Darius Omaley]

An old baseball cap, tank top, and shorts. Usual GYM wear, but today Darius wore them them to work.

Darius works in construction, no nothing important at all, just moving parts around. He wasn't trusted well enough to be given an important job. He didn't really care, manual labor was his specialty, his "toy" would defiantly come in handy.

Darius was paid just slightly less than the others, the boss said it was because him being "different" and it would have been "unfair" on the other workers. Darius wished he would have actually told him the truth, instead of making up a lame excuse like that.

Darius was heaving metal poles to a part of the site they just started working on. He needed to move twenty, so he decided to get them five at a time.

Half way there disaster struck, his right arm; the one carrying all the poles gave away under the strain, the poles fell to the ground Darius yelped"crap!" thankfully that none of them landed on his feet.

Darius dropped on his left knee and placed his arm over his right, examining what went wrong, it appears that he wasn't toning it as often as he should have. It was just a loose bolt that created this mess. Darius looked around "wheres a damn wrench when you need one" he muttered.

[Movazi]

“I don’t see,” The man, Monsieur Duchesne, said in unaccented French, “how this could possibly be a good venue for our new venture. There isn’t any traffic; the blueprints are not what my company had in mind at all. Not to mention the location is abysmal.”

“Right now,” She agreed in her own Parisian accent, “but later that will not be the case. This area of Tokyo is being refurbished and reconstructed with the most enthusiasm. Once everything is well and truly underway, the real estate will sky rocket from pennies to solid platinum. Upon completion, it will rival the current Habundo.”

The discussion went on in a flurry of give and take French, drawing sidelong glances from the people they passed. For those who recognized the language, they covertly looked on in disgust and those who did not gazed with suspicions at these foreigners. Not that either of the duo minded, as it was something to be expected in Japan and it was a rare Japanese that made obvious gestures of dislike. Especially as one of them represented their current employer both in an official and familial position. That had been why she’d been requested: she was the only Tokyo resident Movazi that also fluently spoke French.

That was how she found herself missing another University class and donning a charcoal gray designer suit with a cut that showed off her shape in its best light. The peach silk shirt had a flowing neckline with sleeves that stopped just as her fingers began, five golden pearls keeping the cuffs closed. A solid golden ring on the middle finger of her left hand and yet another gold piece Rolex watch on her right wrist was all the jewelry she wore.

“Merde!” He whipped around, quickly followed by Movazi, “What was that?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll be right back.”

It was a distracted response as she had already begun to rush toward the sound. Lawsuits and lawyers flashed before her eyes as she closed the distance. Quickly, her eyes flung across the scene as she surveyed, judged, and accurately guessed what had happened only moments before. The black man was gripping his armored arm muttering to himself about wrenches. A step forward, she picked up a ratchet before gesturing at him with it.

“Is this what you need?” Movazi inquired, face smooth of emotion.

“Is he alright?” Monsieur Duchesne asked as he came in behind her.

“That’s what I’m finding out.”

“I suppose that’s what happens when you hire cyborgs. Don’t know their own limitations.”

The last comment drew a noncommittal noise from Movazi as she watched the black man. Eyes narrowing she examined the arm in a vain attempt to see if she could see what had malfunctioned. As far as she was aware Cyber-Angelic’s augmentations were as perfect as you could, any errors tended to be the fault of the owner. Whether that be over use, neglect, or simple stupidity.

“Daijoubu desu ka.”

--

Merde: Shit, expletive.
Daijoubu desu ka: Are you alright?

Please Note: Movazi and Duchesne are speaking French, and that there is a color coding so that you, my fellow rpers, know when I’m using different languages. Refer to my sig to see specifics.

[Darius Omaley]

Darius look at the woman that approached him then his eye turned to the man then shifted to the ratchet. He didn't really understand what she said but he guessed that the ratchet was for him. All this time in Japan and he never bothered to learn the language"That will do" he said in an even tone.

Darius took the ratchet from the woman with his left hand and got to work on his metal arm. It took him a few minutes of tighten a few bolts then his arm started working again. Still kneeling Darius tested it for reflexes, it seemed to be working properly.

Standing back up and handing the ratchet back to the lady, "Thanks" he said.