Sale of the Century

[Dax Valley]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #000000, width: 300px; height: 300px;] CASUAL OUTFIT --- NIGHT TIME Wheeling and Dealing The beaten up old ice-cream trundeled it's way up the street, the tires crunching the gravel that lined the road, as it headed towards the centre of the street. Dax was at the wheel, scaning the street looking for any notion of life in this seemingly dead street. Most of the houses looked deserted, just as run down as the rest of the towns he'd gone through. Just as he was about to give up Dax noticed a house in the middle of the row, it was different from the rest with it's boarded up windows and peeling old paint job, but what really got Dax's attention was the light on in the front room. Smiling, Dax pulled the truck to a stop right out the front of the house, reaching across the dashboard Dax grabbed the truck's speaker microphone. "HELLO LOVLLIES!!" Dax yelled into the speaker, "Thats right ladies and gentleman, right here and right now you have the wonderful enigma, the sparkling trader, the ... gracious ... guy? Dax Valley! And today I am here to broker any trade, make any deal and provide you with the whatever you need. So lovelies, step right up and place your orders. Dax is here to help." Now finished with his opening speech, Dax replaced the microphone and clambered onto the top of his truck. With his legs swinging off the side, Dax waited for a customer. © melly welly at caution 2.0

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[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] sale of the century It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Thus far, Mila's stay in Rustboro had been quite eventful. She had found herself a little slave, and had been able to push quite a few things that they had found while they were out on the road. She didn't know how much longer she would stay in town. After all, wander lust was starting to kick in. And she wanted to get Heather out on the road before she decided that she would chicken out and run back to wherever she came from. After going quite some time without a Slave, she had found that she almost needed one. Not to mention that being on the road as much as she was left little time for... fun. Her eyes scanned over the various wares of the small kiosks that littered the barely put together little town. There was coin in her pocket and it was itching to be spent. Unlike most days, she had taken off today without her hip holsters. There was no point carrying them around without a weapon to fill them. Her last stint with zombies had rendered them useless, much to her dismay. All she had now was a flimsy pocket knife. Sometime later, she'd force Lucas to pull into Hamburg; maybe there she'd pick up a weapon of merit. Anything she found here would be pitiful. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a rather familiar sight. A beaten up ice cream truck. A smile pulled at the corner of Mila's full lips as she watched the truck come to a stop. The charismatic, yet slightly egotistical voice of a man that she had come to know as Dax came through the speakers at the top of the rig. Shaking her head, she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she listened. It was nice to know that somethings would never change. She watched as he plopped himself down and waited for the customers that were, undoubtedly, about to come racing toward him. When no one bothered to approach, she shook her head, a sense of smug self satisfaction washed over her. Dax wasn't someone that she'd call a friend; he was a competitor. A fun time between the sheets, and possibly, one of the only people that challenged her. He was interesting, to say the least. And that made it all the more satisfactory to know that he might not be doing as well as he let on. Then again, it was early in the evening; she knew better than to make assumptions. There was an almost predatory sway to her hips as she approached the ice cream truck, a glib smile on her lips. "Well, well, well, can't say I expected to see you on this side of town." she smirked, resting her hands on her hips. "Got anything interesting in there?" she asked, flicking her head in the direction of the inside of his truck. TAGGING, DAX, THE INFORMATION BROKER. 489. OUTFIT.

[Dax Valley]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #000000, width: 300px; height: 300px;] CASUAL OUTFIT --- NIGHT TIME DEALING WITH: MILA Wheeling and Dealing Dax tapped his foot against the side of the truck, he'd left his cane inside the truck so his foot was taking its place. He'd been sitting here for 2 minutes, a whole 2 MINUTES, a no one had come to him, granted this was his first time in this sleepy hollow they called Rustboro, but still one would assume that there would be someone interested. Just as Dax was about to pack up and head into the centre, maybe toward that doctors office he'd been told about.. meds do sell well. "Well, well, well, can't say I expected to see you on this side of town." Dax turned his head toward the sultry voice that could only belong to his favourite scandilly clad raider, Mila Mika. Mila was one of those people Dax loved running into, not only was she fun to wrangle information from (and more often than not he did mean wrangle ), but she usually knew the good stuff. "Well, if it isn't my favourite domanatrix barbie. What are you doing in a dump like this? Lucas finally settling down?" Dax asked, trying to disguise his attempts to leverage information from her. "Got anything interesting in there?" Mila asked. Dax gave her a coy smile as he lifted himself up and began stalking along the top of the ice cream truck, not looking at Mila, but focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. "Ahh my dear, wouldst thou be after guns and ammo? Or perhaps you require some racy lengerie for your lovely little slave there" Dax said, motioning towards the meek girl who was standing behid Mila, still without looking up. "Or perhaps you need a job done? I have it all my young dears, what do you need?" Dax finished, finally looking up and flashing the dominatrix with one of his flashy grins. © melly welly at caution 2.0

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[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] sale of the century It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - A dry smile came to her lips when he called her by his favored nickname, 'Dominatrix Barbie.' She might have taken offense to it, if she didn't know that the implication was more toward her curves than her... Well, looking like a barbie. If there was one thing that Mila wasn't, it was perfect; she preferred to be idolized for her imperfections. To her, all things that were beautiful were damaged; not unscathed. Although, she would never debate the finer mechanics with anyone. Let alone with a man like Dax. The only type of interesting conversation that she wanted to have with him was in the bedroom - or when a blade was to his throat when she wanted information. Ah, Dax... Always fishing.. she mused as she fixed him with a bit of a more sensual smirk. "Maybe, maybe not." she answered cryptically to his question. What she, or the rest of her traveling companions were doing in Rustboro was none of his business. Of course, unless he was willing to trade something. Besides, the less information that he had on the rest of them, the better. The last thing that she wanted was to have another group of Raiders on their asses. Especially, not a group of Raiders with more than one kind of ammunition. He answered her question, as he knew he would. He carried the usual, weapons, ammo, and of course, a few things that she was almost certain he picked up, with her in mind. She laughed and shook her head, giving him yet another one of her temptress' smirks. "She has what she needs. I saw to that. However, I won't be opposed to looking at what kind of weapons you have for sale." she followed him, watching his feet as he walked. A part of her always wondered where the limp came from, but something told her that was another tidbit of information that she'd need to trade for. Sexual acts? She would in a heart beat - The time that she spent with Dax between the sheets was always worth it. Not many people were capable of having the fun that they were. Information about herself? Well, that was another matter entirely. Mila wasn't the type to share anything that she didn't have to. And in most instances, she didn't. And that was the way that she wished to keep it. There was only one person that knew everything, and that was Lucas. For obvious reasons. "Dax, you slay me." she laughed, pacing alongside Dax as he sauntered about the top of his ice cream truck. As she moved she dragged her pet along almost mercilessly on her leash. "Me? Need a job done? You know that I prefer to get the blood under my finger nails." she mused, absently picking at them as they spoke. "Are you going to show me something, or do you have something else in mind?" Knowing Dax, he probably did. And Mila was all for it. TAGGING, DAX, THE INFORMATION BROKER. 500. OUTFIT.

I freaking love that shirt. I want it. Haha.

[Dax Valley]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #000000, width: 300px; height: 300px;] CASUAL OUTFIT --- NIGHT TIME DEALING WITH: Mila Wheeling and Dealing Mila wasn't falling for Dax's old tricks, she knew better than to just hand over information (not that he had expected her too). Mila wasn't someone Dax talked to for loose lips, she was only good for a quick sale and perhaps a quick root. "Weapons huh? Dax asked, stroking his nonexistant beard. "Let me see what I can find." Dax had reached the end of the trucks roof and leaned over the side opening up the truck and pulling himself inside. "Let me see.... Hmm... Well I think I have two things you may like" Dax said as he pulled out the first item. "First theres a Colt SSA 45LC 5.5" Nickel, still in pretty good nick. The previous owner looked after it well. In fact when I first propositioned buying it from him he said to me that I would have to pry it from his cold dead hands" Dax said shooting an evil grin at the meek looking slave standing behind Mila. "So I did! Dax then reached back into the truck and pulled out his second item. "And this my lovely is my other little find for you. A landmine something I picked up at... well Iguess I won't be telling you since we seem so hesitant in divulging our information Dax said with a slight note of sarcasm in his voice. © melly welly at caution 2.0

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[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] sale of the century It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Mila smirked as she looked at the Colt. It was a pretty decent gun. Kind of similar to what she once had before she found herself nearly getting beaten to death by a zombie horde. Perhaps, she would consider purchasing that. The smirk, however, by Mila's standards, was very neutral. When she was completely sold on something, she had a way of letting someone know. That was generally accompanied with a few 'accidentally' bumps of her hips as she would bend over to pick up the item while trying to talk them down. Of course, she had used these tricks quite a few times with Dax. Did he ever truly grow tired of them? "I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die..." Mila quoted a grin coming to her lips. The girl behind her had noticeably shifted, further away from the two of them. If Mila didn't have the sneaking suspicion that she wasn't from a rough and tough group like the one that she was from, that would have just solidified it. Death was an even common topic of conversation amongst the Rebuilders. No ones hands were clean; not since the end of the world came. Mila couldn't help the eyebrow arch when she saw the other shiny. A landmine? She hadn't seen one in quite some time, and certainly hadn't had a real reason to use it. But, that didn't mean that she didn't want one. Perhaps, if she were to set up a permanent residence... But, Dax once again, shoved the fact that he had information in her face, all but wagging it in front of her like a coin purse. Mila pursed her lips together, leaning forward a bit. "Well, maybe you will. You don't know what I have to offer." she smirked, her voice taking on the husky undertones of a former lover. "The Landmine I'd have to consult with Lucas about. But the Colt? How much are you askin' for her?" She asked, her Russian accent barely noticeable. TAGGING, DAX, THE INFORMATION BROKER. 337. OUTFIT.

[Dax Valley]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #000000, width: 300px; height: 300px;] CASUAL OUTFIT --- NIGHT TIME DEALING WITH: Mila Wheeling and Dealing Dax had to work hard to hide his smile as Mila sauntered over to him. Ah Mila, always fun, not only for the body and the possible romp to come later, but also for the information she provided. Not only had she proved that Lucas would be nearby the town, but so were a group spiritualists by the looks of her slave. "After the Colt you say? Very nice and fine piece of Machinery there. Now let me think. Dax said as he began to pace "Well normally I would ask for 700 coin, but I guess since we're 'old friends', as it were, we can do some other sort of bargain. Now word has reached me on the grapevine that this town is THE place for rebuilders, but I'm new so I have no idea where I may find abything, SO here is my deal. You get the Colt and youpay.. 400 coin and between you and your little firend there, you fill me in on the town and what can be found within. Dax said, giving his best sale face (think about a puppy dog mixed with a porno star) before adding. "Oh and I'll even throw the rumpy pumpy in for free. © melly welly at caution 2.0

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[Mila Mika Eppolito]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i462.photobucket.com/albums/qq345/originalscenesta/black_.jpg) ] sale of the century It's just the way that we're diseased It's the blade that stains us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Mila looked up at him, she knew that he was already diagnosing the situation. She knew that he was gathering more from her little slave, and her mere presence than he should be. But it was all trivial information. No facts. Nothing. Just an observation that he made that wouldn't be able to be held up. At least, enough to supply to an interested buyer. What she liked about Dax was that he kept her on her toes. Normally, she could weasel her way out of literally, almost anything with just a bat of her eyelashes. But Dax? Dax was smart. And clearly capable of handling himself and his affairs just as well as she was. Mila pursed her lips at his suggested prices. Seven hundred was a bit extreme, but she knew her weapons. Asking more than six hundred for such a piece of equipment was... steep, to say the least. She arched an eyebrow, and listened to the rest of his offer. She grinned. "The rumpy pumpy for free...?" she peered. "Oh, Dax, the way you phrase things leaves me so... wanting." she said, the sarcasm in her voice, and mocking smirk on her lips. "How about you work for it this time. The last time I took a ride on your jolly rod, I did all the work." She leaned back, resting a hand on her hip. She looked over the gun. Four hundred dollars for it was a hell of a better deal. And that was something that she was looking for with the little bit of change that she did have. And she desperately needed a new weapon. "You got yourself a deal," she smirked, offering her hand. "but!" she pulled her hand away before he could shake it. "I'd like to see what that smooth talkin' mouth of yours can do, with our 'rumpy pumpy.'" she grinned wickedly, offering her hand to him again. Arching her eyebrows, she tilted her head to the side as though challenging him. "Deal?" TAGGING, DAX, THE INFORMATION BROKER. 335. OUTFIT.