Robin Buckley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
work_wife) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2024-02-29 02:20 pm
work_wife) wrote in revivalproject2024-02-29 02:20 pm
No Matter The Universe The Job Sucks
WHO: Robin Buckley, You
WHERE: Spacedock NG-102
WHAT: Two dead end jobs and
WHEN: Throughout March
WARNINGS: None
I. Fast Food Blitz
[Got an idea? Reach out to me by direct message, on discord, or on plurk to talk about it. Or go wild and just throw something at me of your own creation. Robin's so flexible she'll be good for anything.]
WHERE: Spacedock NG-102
WHAT: Two dead end jobs and
WHEN: Throughout March
WARNINGS: None
I. Fast Food Blitz
Some lives are meant for customer service misery. Apparently Robin Buckley's is one of these lives. Here she is in her horrid purple and lime green striped uniform, with the headband with almost koala like ears and strange springy antennae, standing behind the counter of what could only be dubbed a fast food restaurant. And of course here she is, forced to face someone she actually knows. Literally it's a space station larger than a city or something. She had to take not one but two of those transport things to get here. How did anyone find her?II. Mascot Misery
"Welcome to," she tries her best to produce a strange series of sounds that approximates the name of the place the best she can. She was told her accent was awful of course, but at least she'd been loaned a translator by her work so she could take orders. Doesn't mean she's good at saying stuff. "What can we get for you?"
Then she leans in, her eyes narrowed.
"And if you say one bad thing about me in this costume, I'm going to find you and ruin you."
OF course she is. She doesn't look good in these layered, heavily stripped ruffles. And the bows around her wrists are just silly looking.
Apparently threatening customers, even if they were her shipmates and might never let her live down the look, was a whole thing worth firing someone over. Or maybe just not rehiring them over. Go figure. Which had of course led to job number two.III. Space Record Shop? It's More Likely Than You Think
And thus here Robin was, standing outside of a place with loud noises, bright colors, and so many screaming children of many different species beyond the door. Robin herself stands there in a clinging blue body suit, looking at her communication device, frowning at it. Her break was almost over and she'd have to go back on shift soon. Which would mean going inside, getting on the layers of the silver and gold costume that would make her look like a giant blue cross between a rat and a crab clad in a silver-gold bumblebee-like costume. It was a whole ass thing.
"What if I just quit my job. Like. I almost think working with Keith was better."
Listen, you can only put so much time of your life into saving aliens who don't know how to repair their own ship or stock spare parts, right? Sometimes you need to take the trade vouchers you've got from working for something personal to make the suffering of customer service worthwhile. And when Robin had started to walk past this place, of course she'd stopped.IV. Wildcard
How the fuck was there a Camelot Records here?
She turns into the place and yeah, it feels like she's back in the one in Starcourt. Sure there is a lot of signage not in languages she can even begin to recognize as such, but the place is rather large. And dammit, there's even a section of things she recognizes.
"No way!"
She pauses in her flipping to stare at one item in particular.
"This isn't supposed to be out for a few months!"
If you're from spring 1986 like Robin is at least.
[Got an idea? Reach out to me by direct message, on discord, or on plurk to talk about it. Or go wild and just throw something at me of your own creation. Robin's so flexible she'll be good for anything.]
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