40 - Bids
"So, I'm basically a spy." I waved a hand in front of Rarity, who had frozen solid halfway through my story. I glanced at Applejack. "Do you think we broke her?"
"Ayup." She sipped her latte. "She's probably panicking deep inside."
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASP!
As Rarity prepared to yell something, I calmly picked up a doughnut and tossed it into her mouth. Her impending scream devolved into a series of hacking coughs. I gave her a worried glance, afraid I'd overdone it, but she recovered.
"What." She gulped her iced tea, swallowing convulsively. "That is all I have to say, Wesley. What."
"Sorry." I shrugged. "I had no idea either." I sighed and glanced at my watch before searching the nearby tables again. We were at a small outdoor café in Manehatten. Sunset had planned to meet me here, but this was our second day and still no contact. "It looks like Sunset has stood me up, so I'm going to do my best for the Archive. Would you like to help?"
"Hmm." Rarity tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Let me consider. Going to a fancy-dress ball and silent auction? Mingling with the Manehatten elite? Working as a secret agent? Buying priceless art, accompanied by two of my good friends and all on the Princess's dime?" Her pupils shrunk as she prepared for another scream. This time, Applejack intervened with a muffin. "Yes!" she wheezed around the intruding pastry.
"Ah reckoned so." The orange mare nodded to me. "Although Ah ain't so certain about going myself. But you'd better bring Mister Fancy up to date." I nodded and slipped the case I'd been given out of my pocket, snapping it open.
It was an intricate little doodad, a variation on the vivre cards, but used the magical signature of the box itself. Inside were a pen and prepared papers. I shot off a quick note, carefully including my personal code. The system wasn't foolproof, but there was basic authentications. I watched the paper crumble and float away. Physical correspondence couldn't be kept, but copies were archived at headquarters. I'd memorized the instruction paper as best I could before destroying it.
In a few moments, a chime alerted me to a message. It was an address. Simple notes were part of the system, since the less we relied on this, the more secure we would be. I checked the codes; either the base had been overrun and Fancy had divulged the correct operation sequence under torture, or this was where we met our contact. I memorized the note before it crumbled to ash.
"Well, we've got marching orders." I drained the last of my drink and stood. "Let's see what they've got."
"Ah can be just as snooty as you!" Applejack exclaimed, as we climbed out of the cab. The building we'd been delivered to seemed to be an art gallery. It was hewn from slabs of bulky marble and propped up with gargantuan columns, fluted and intricate.
"Then prove it!" Rarity stuck her nose in the air and sniffed. "Really." I grinned discretely. The fashionista had been slowly winding the cowpony up for the whole ride. I had a pretty good idea what she was up to, and any minute now-
"Fine! Ah'll go to this frou-frou fancy party with you, and I'll show you Ah can be just as full of frills and frippery as the rest!" Applejack exploded, rising to the implicit challenge.
"Excellent!" Rarity hugged Applejack, every trace of animosity gone. "I knew you'd come around! Oh, this is simply wonderful! We'll have so much fun! I have the perfect dress for you my dear, and just the right style for your mane. Oh! This is simply so exciting!"
"Ah…" Applejack caught my eye. I shrugged. She'd said it, not me. The only way out was to go back on her word. "Aw, shucks." She dropped her head and followed the excited unicorn with heavy hooves.
We made our way inside, where we loitered around the entrance for a while. The gallery was delicately decorated, although mostly empty. We glanced at a few of the nearby displays. I really wasn't sure what to do now; Fancy had told me contacts normally knew each other's faces, and it would take a while for me to get caught up. On the other hand, I was plenty recognizable, although I'd been mistaken for a minotaur at a distance.
"Hello, hello!" A tiny yellow earth pony bounced up to us. At first I thought she was a foal, but she had slender, wire-rimmed spectacles and a complicated coif in her mane, and her poise was that of a professional. "I'm Opaque. You must be Wes, Applejack, and Rarity. I've been expecting you. You're from the Archive, right?" I nodded. The Archive was well-known. Normal librarians traveled all over Equestria and even other countries, documenting momentous occasions, gathering anything Celestia thought was worth preserving, and copying or recording all they could. "Come right this way! We have guest passes and a place for you to freshen up and prepare."
"Nice to meet you!" Rarity tapped hooves with our guide. "Miss Opaque, would it be possible to send somepony back to our hotel? Most of my essentials are there."
"Why, of course!" The energetic mare waved a uniformed stallion over and delegated him to Rarity.
"Miss Opaque, is the auction happening here?"
"Indeed." She glance up at me over her spectacles. "Who do you think alerted Mr. Pants to this opportunity?" I nodded at that, bemused. The idea of the Archive as a circle of friends was starting to grow on me. They really didn't act much like spies. Or maybe I just had no idea how a spy was supposed to act. Perhaps Ian Fleming wasn't quite correct. "Now, Mister Kilmer." She lowered her voice as we passed a few guests. "Your job at this auction is to buy a painting and watch for thieves. To do that you need the right face, the right attitude, and the right backers. I will coordinate all of those."
She led us out the door again, which confused me for a moment until I realized we were headed around back. As we did, I noticed something odd; the ponies around us started to swell in number, hurrying past, usually in the same direction, maybe in response to loud yells coming from ahead.
"What's all the yelling about?"
"It's a stampede." Opaque sighed. "Probably another changeling scare."
"Another?" I said, the first word that jumped out. "What's this about?"
"Well, you know about Princess Mi Amore’s wedding?" I nodded. I'd heard, and I even remembered bits from another viewpoint. "Ever since, we've had these." She gestured at the streams of ponies. "Somepony will 'discover' a changeling and scream their heads off. Soon their neighbors show up and join the fun. Things usually snowball from there." She shrugged. "I have yet to hear of an actual changeling being caught, though."
"Huh. So…" I mulled it over. "Ponies just like to panic?"
"Maybe. The whole thing seems wearisome to me." She unlocked a door marked 'Employees Only' and led us in. She paused for a second, thinking, before choosing a direction. In moments, she ushered us into a guest suite. Four beds, a small sitting area, and an attached bathroom.
"As an operative, you are welcome to use this for as long as you need." She nodded to me. "Do you have suitable clothes?"
"No."
"Yes!" Rarity interjected. I gave her a puzzled look, but shrugged.
"Maybe I do."
"Excellent. The auction begins at half-past seven. We'll alert you an hour before, or you're welcome to visit my office down the hall. Get some rest, get ready, and I will explain the plan and warn you about important ponies you may face."
"Sure. Thanks, Opaque." I smiled at her, and she grinned back.
"A pleasure to work with you, Wesley." She ducked out, closing the door. I sighed and flopped onto a bed, intending to nap. Signs indicated it would be a long night.
"Wes, wake up!" I groggily rolled over and cracked an eyelid. Applejack was shaking me gently. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. When I saw her I rubbed them some more, trying to assure myself I wasn't dreaming.
She was, if anything, 'dolled up'. Her normally unruly mane had been brushed to a sheen, and plaited into an intricate braid. I spotted hints of makeup, and she was wearing a surprisingly understated green and black dress.
"No hat?" I said the first thing that came to mind and kicked myself afterwards.
"Ah know, Ah look ridiculous. But we've gotta look - ahem. We've got to look the part."
"You look nice. Elegant." She gave me a flat glare. "No, really! Rarity really did a good job." She looked faintly disgruntled at that, which confused me, until Rarity stepped into the room.
"Oh no, Wes. I didn't lay a hoof on her. She is more than capable of grooming herself, it seems."
"Ah learned from the Oranges." She shrugged. "They are my family, after all."
"Oh." I yawned. "Ok." I glanced at my watch. "Huh. I guess our stuff arrived?" I turned to Rarity, who looked pretty normal to me. She was wearing a pleasant aqua ensemble, which went better with her purple mane than I’d have expected.
"Yes!" She pointed to the bathroom. "It's your turn, Wes. I hope everything fits; I modified some pony styles for your clothes. I had no idea I would get a chance to see you in them so soon!"
"Sure. I guess I owe you a suit." I rolled out of bed and headed for the shower.
I was pretty much done getting ready. Rarity had designed something very like a three-piece suit for me. The trousers, dress shirt, jacket and vest were modeled off my normal clothing. The cloth was even more expensive, though, and it had intricate little details like satin lining, embroidered patterns on the lapels and oddly, epaulets. Also less pockets, unfortunately, although there was one in the sleeve for my wand.
Still, it all fit comfortably, which was enough for me. The sleeves had lace around the wrists and jeweled cuff pins. There was also a tall top-hat and cane, of all things. Maybe it was a minotaur affectation? The whole thing had an awesome Victorian feel; very appropriate for this crystalpunk world. All I needed was a monocle and an airship. However, I wasn't completely without problems.
"Rarity?" I found the two mares talking quietly as I came out, a length of lacy cloth held in one hand. "Sorry to disturb you, but what is this?" I held it out.
"Oh, really." She rolled her eyes. "I realize you've never been part of high society, Wes, but surely you've seen a cravat before?"
"A what?"
"A cravat!" I jumped slightly as she levitated the lace, wrapping it snugly around my neck. She fastened it in a complicated knot with a flurry of magic and nodded approvingly. "There!"
I stepped back into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror. I now had a veritable waterfall of lace dripping from my collar. I thought it looked silly, but shrugged; I had no idea what fashion was. I’d go with this if Rarity recommended it.
"Well, seems like we're good to go." I moved to leave, thinking we could head to Opaque's office and talk for a bit.
"HOLD IT!" Rarity had leaped up, outrage on her face, and was pointing straight at me.
"Um…yes?" I paused, hand on the doorknob.
"You are not wearing those!" She shook a hoof at my beat-up sneakers. I winced.
"Sure, they don't look good," I smiled apologetically, "but I don't have any other shoes."
"You could go barefoot." Applejack shrugged. "Ah will."
"I could go…barefoot?" I looked down. I hadn't even considered that. Barefoot in a suit didn't work in my mind.
"No, no, no." Rarity shook her head. "Barefoot might be fine, but I do have shoes for you." She turned to her bags, and pulled out a set of…boots.
My jaw dropped. How had she managed this?
I haltingly accepted them and sat down on the bed, peeling my sneakers and socks off.
"This is…felt?" I rubbed the thick, black cloth with a finger. It was heavy felt, backed to canvas; maybe in several layers. I stuck a hand into the bottom and peeled up the liner to feel the insole. "And wood?" It was even molded to my feet. I turned them over; the bottom was shod with steel, and the treads were molded into fanciful patterns, mimicking the grip on my sneakers. The seams were thick and even looked waterproof. "Rarity…" I looked up. She had a hopeful expression on her face. "These are amazing. How did you do it?"
"I had Rainbow, ahem, borrow your shoes. This is what you get for leaving your windows open."
"Heh." I slipped them on. They secured with a zipper, forming the felt snugly to my calves, and clipped firmly at the top. They didn't look like dress shoes to me, but they looked good. I stood and took a few steps. "These feel great!" I bounced on my toes. "I have no idea how to repay this, but expect something worthwhile. These are better than a sack of gems. Thank you very much!" My shoes had been weighing on my mind for a while now, and I hadn't even considered talking to Rarity about it. Looking back, that was a bit silly.
"Well!" She flipped her mane out of her face and smiled broadly. "Now you're almost ready!" She pulled a jewelry box out of her bag and floated it towards me. I cracked the lid and a quiet chorus hummed sweetly.
"Oh, come on now!" I spun the box, pointing to back towards her. The singing stone brooch she'd been working on sparkled brilliantly, an intricately worked carousel pony. "Shouldn't you be wearing this?"
"Wes!" She lifted a hoof, feigning shock. "With this dress? Really!" She stuck her nose in the air. Applejack snorted.
"Fine." I drew it from the box and pinned it to my collar, where it hummed sweetly. "But I'm returning this. I'll keep the boots, though."
"If you insist." I smiled at the twinkle in her eye and stood, heading for the door again.
"Are we ready now?" They both nodded. "Alright. Let's do this." I swung the door wide and we trooped out.
Elegantly.
"Well, you three certainly look the part." Opaque led us into her office. It was a little after five. "Would you like some food? They have snacks at these things, but I've never found anything really satisfying to eat." She motioned to a low table, spread with supper.
"Yes please!" Applejack trotted over, and we followed. I watched, bemused, as the normally rambunctious pony sat primly and began fastidiously preparing a plate, careful of her fancy dress. She caught me staring and glared back. I coughed and looked away.
"Well, Opaque, you said I need a face, a backer, and an attitude. How're we doing?" The tiny mare gave me an appraising glance.
"You’ve got the face. All three of you look perfect, and even without my help. Very good!" She nodded. "The backer is simply handled. Officially, you're here on behalf of Jet Set. Unofficially, the gallery is assisting. Secretly, Princess Celestia foots the bill. Leave the money and the bidding to me; you're simply a frontspony, but your budget is unlimited."
GAAAAAAA-glurk
"Really, Rarity, you need to stop doing that," I admonished the unicorn, who had half a sandwich sticking out of her mouth. Applejack nodded seriously and returned to her supper.
"F'orry."
"Ok, that's simple enough." I nodded. "And attitude?"
"How far down your nose can you look?"
"Hmm." I stood, leaning back. The small mare gazed up at me and nodded.
"Pretty good. As long as you do that and don't smile or laugh at anything that's actually funny, you'll do fine. Let Lady Rarity do the talking." She snickered. "When her mouth's not full of food."
"Sure, tease." Rarity grumbled. "Fine. I won't talk to anypony. Just watch!"
"Oh?" Opaque said slowly. "Not even Croissant?"
"Croissant will be there?" Rarity's eyes gleamed, her smile returning like magic. "Oh! How wonderful!" She saw us all sniggering and wilted a little.
"Sorry, Rarity," I apologized, "but you can't keep screaming. We really do need your help. I'm horrendously bad at names, and Opaque's got a list of ponies to watch out for. If you don't talk to anypony, there's no way this is going to work."
"Fine." She harrumphed again, but stopped sulking. "Opaque, if you would?"
"Certainly." Our host helped herself to an apple. I listened hard, but soon, the names started blurring. I filled my plate and tried to focus.
"Please, Wes, focus!"
"Huh?" I snapped back to the present. Ponies milled about, talking quietly; we were no longer in Opaque's study. Rarity gave me a scathing glance. I grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. What's up?"
"That was Lucent!"
"Was I snotty enough?"
"Barely." She huffed. "Really, Wes. You're almost as bad as Applejack." I glanced at the cowpony, who had a slightly glazed expression. She was definitely being snotty, but it seemed to be wearing on her. "It's like you two aren't enjoying yourself at all!" I nearly laughed at the genuine puzzlement in her voice.
"Sorry." I fingered the gem-encrusted ear-cuff Opaque had fit to me. It was actually my communicator. "I was wondering if we needed to bid again."
"Check." Rarity waved at the pendant hanging from my cane. It was a slim crystal secured with a thin chain. I raised it to eye-level, but the glass stayed clear. I sighed.
"Looks like we're good for now. Really, this is stressful."
"It's supposed to be," Applejack muttered. "They want you to bid lots, so they raise the pressure. Opaque's honest, but some auction houses use shills."
"Huh." We walked slowly around the room. Every so often, somepony would stop and talk to us; well, Rarity, though they weren't all ponies. Griffons were obvious, as were a few mules and donkeys. I saw someone who looked like a Saddle Arabian, and a minotaur or two were giving me curious looks.
Actually, most everyone gave me curious looks. I couldn't tell if it was my immaculate suit, my odd physique, or the fact that I had two beautiful mares accompanying me, but I felt over-scrutinized. As a result I kept my nose in the air, my hands in my pockets, and my thoughts to myself. It seemed to be working so far.
"Let's get snacks." Applejack nudged Rarity, who sighed but turned towards the buffet. I sauntered along behind, projecting devil-may-care and hoity-toit as hard as I could.
I browsed the buffet, trying to find something that suited me. Cucumber and daisy sandwiches? No. Hay crackers with honey? Nah. I nabbed a half-dozen miniature orange muffins and drizzled chocolate on them despite Rarity’s shocked look. Passable, but not a spot on Pinkie's.
"That one." Rarity was pointing discretely towards the wall of paintings. "Subtle Palette's 'Mud Pony' is that one." I followed her lead and found the piece of art we were bidding on.
I nodded, impressed. I'd never been an art critic of any sort, but I appreciated a well-done drawing or painting. It wasn't too hard to tell when someone had skill, and Subtle Palette had it in spades. The painting was the outline of a pony, trudging through the rain, suggestions of trees looming behind, done in the artist's trademark dull colors. The actual technique appeared crude, gobs and wads of paint shoveled onto the canvas with a palette knife, but the execution drew the whole thing together; the faceless outline, the jagged shapes, the suggestion of a broken horn or draggled wings spattered with mud and misery exuded a melancholy, distressing air that impressed even an amateur like me. It was big, too; the top easily reached my waist and it was twice again as wide.
The frame was a bit odd, though; it was wide and flat, with an intricate design apparently stained into the wood, a jagged, stylistic pattern that baffled the eye and repeated endlessly. It was tribal-seeming, abstract, dark swirls with no obvious symbolism, oddly emotive. It almost seemed to project onto the canvas.
"I wouldn't mind owning it." I shrugged. "That frame's a bit much, though."
"Oh, I know." Rarity puffed. "So plain. It could do with a few jewels."
"…I guess." There was no accounting for taste, apparently.
"Hey." Applejack stepped between us. "Don't look now, but Tweed himself is here. He's talking to my Uncle Orange right behind us."
"Oh, Mosely Orange is here?" Rarity grinned. "Let's say hello!"
"But Tweed," I said.
"Oh, he won't bother us." Rarity lifted her head confidently. "Not at the party." She trotted off. Applejack and I exchanged glances and followed reluctantly.
"Why, if it isn't my little apple!" Applejack winced as Mosely Orange caught sight of her. "Don't you look all grown up! But what are you doing here? I thought you were living in Ponyville! On the farm!" I stood back, letting Rarity and Applejack talk to her uncle as I surreptitiously studied Tweed.
He glowered back, not surreptitiously at all, and I disliked him immediately. Tweed fit my image of a mob boss precisely. He was a big, square-jawed stallion, with a scar on his muzzle. He wore an expensive suit sloppily and loomed standing still. The effect was slightly spoiled by his cheerful green coat and mane.
"Bid," Opaque whispered in my ear. I tried not to jump. The comm worked, but it was a little odd, especially disguised as a piece of jewelry.
I checked my bidder; while we'd been talking, it had gone cloudy. I grimaced slightly and tapped it smartly on the head of my cane. It cleared. I dropped it after a brief moment of introspection; a thousand bits seemed like a lot, but to the royal treasury it was nearly spare change. All those bids added up, but it wasn't my money.
I scratched my ear, carefully hiding my eyes as I glanced at the bidder Tweed had strung through his lapel. The phial had gone cloudy. I glanced at Rarity and surveyed the room again. I was beginning to wish I'd had a longer nap; this was even more exhausting than I'd expected.
"Phew!" Both Applejack and I sighed in unison as we left the display room. We glanced at each other and shared a laugh.
"Hmph." Rarity marched past us, nose held indignantly high. "Really. It's like you didn't even try to have fun."
"Sorry, Rares." Applejack grinned sheepishly. "Ah'm not really the fancy sort."
"Me neither." I shrugged and tapped my heels together. "I mean, I can dress the part, and maybe even act it, but that won't make me enjoy it. It's just so, so…"
"Stuffy." Applejack finished.
"Right. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed yourself?"
"It was alright," she said dismissively. Applejack and I shared a glance behind her back.
"Just alright? Didn't you get to talk to Croissant? And Flash Photo?"
"Oh, Flash Photo!" Rarity swooned slightly. "Did you see how handsome he was?"
I gave Applejack a thumbs-up. Good spirits restored. I motioned subtly towards the back, and she nodded; we would part ways here. I left her listening good-naturedly to Rarity's chatter and moved towards my next assignment.
We had, of course, won the auction. Opaque had masterminded the bidding and I didn't even know the closing price. It wasn't unusual for gallery representatives to participate in this sort of thing; even if our collusion was discovered, nopony would care. The bids had been placed legally, the money would be paid honestly.
"I'm moving." I tapped my earpiece.
"Alright." Opaque's voice was a little tinny, but understandable. "The painting is being prepped for transfer now; you'll need to shadow it. Remember, you are not here to protect it. If it's stolen, try to ID the thieves; other than that, stay out of trouble."
"Roger copy."
"What?"
"I mean... I heard you, that's what I'll do."
"Oh. Ok."
It was a dark and stormy night.
I stood under an awning and tried to keep from shivering in the damp breeze. Raindrops fell all around me. I turned my collar up and slunk further into the darkness, trying to be inconspicuous.
On the upside, my silhouette was odd; most ponies wouldn't cue on me if I didn't move. On the downside, not moving meant I would slowly chill through. At least I had a thick wool jacket and my new boots were gloriously waterproof. Rarity had really done a stellar job on them. I leaned carefully against the wall and tried to think of how I could repay her.
I was idly pondering the feasibility of a magical CNC lathe when the cart I needed to follow rattled slowly around the corner. I waited until it was past and began stalking it, which meant walking a block or so behind and avoiding puddles.
Opaque had told me the owner of the painting didn't believe the gallery was secure enough. It was being transferred from the auction to a nearby bank. The cart was armored, the guards were armed, but it was still most vulnerable in transit.
The trip was boring. I focused on looking casual and not sneaky. Walking behind the cart wasn't illegal. I was carefully non-threatening and tried to keep an obviously safe distance away. The guards didn't look at me twice. I tried to keep my attention on my target, but my gaze kept drifting upwards, trying to catch glimpses of the moon behind the clouds. I knew Luna wasn't literally the mare in the moon anymore, but I couldn't help feel she was watching me.
I was jerked back to reality as the cart came screeching to a halt. One of the guards yelled something and I ducked into a nearby doorway.
"Opaque, something's up. I'm moving closer."
"Roger copy." I grinned and slunk forward through the rain.
"Somepony stopped the cart." Once I got near I started reporting. "There are six… seven? They're very similar in size and shape and wearing deep, sweeping cloaks."
"At night?"
"I know. Still. They're yelling something." I cocked my head, trying to hear over the rain. "I think we know what they want. Now-" I cut off as one of the attackers laid into the guards, stretching them out with a few kicks. "Ouch. The guards are down; probably alive, though. Somepony leaped onto the cart. They're…no way!"
"Wes?"
"No way are those the Tweeds. Opaque, one of them just…sorta…grabbed the steel of the armored cart, and ripped into it. They didn't even look for the keys!" I tapped my arm where my wand was secured. "I'm getting extremely odd magic readings from everypony there, and something else as well… Uh-oh."
"Keep talking," Opaque growled.
"Sorry. Um, I was so distracted by what's ahead, I didn't look behind. The Tweeds did show. They're closing in now, and I think they've seen me. I've only got one shot; I need to make it past the cart." I glanced behind again; a phalanx of ponies was moving in. Ahead, the disturbing figures stripping the cart formed up to protect their prize.
Suddenly out of options and being squeezed from both sides, I left my hiding place in a rush, my new boots finding sure footing on the cobbles. I managed to jink past the first cloaked attacker, slide under the second, and fake-out the third, but the fourth was too much. I hit the cart, rolling up onto the bed, and somepony kicked me in the side. I heard Opaque mumble something as I gasped in pain, trying to regain my breath. I forced myself upright and suddenly had a good view of what was happening.
The painting was being pulled unceremoniously out of the strongbox by two glistening, glassy statues.
"Windigolems!" I yelled. "Opaque, they're windigolems! Sombra's after the painting! You need to let Princess-" I stopped as one of the golems eyes flashed red. It reached out with blinding speed and yanked my comm away. I fell into a defensive stance as it chambered a kick, but its powerful blow blew me off the cart. I slid to a stop on the cobbles as Tweed's ponies swarmed over me and towards the painting.
"Wes, was it?" I looked up at Tweed, who casually put out his cigar and glanced down at me, stepping on my arm as I scrabbled for my razor. "I was a little miffed when you took my painting. I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me what's going on here?"
"Rot…in…Tartarus." I gasped, still winded. He shrugged, nonchalant, and motioned. I struggled, but I couldn't do anything as two burly ponies yanked me upright and pulled a sack over my head. After that it was pain, noise, and darkness.
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Go buy a painting they say.. It'll be a a simple job they say...
Now look at him lol.
Now Applejack is gonna have to use her ties to find out where he is. Or if they got time get Twilight to follow her link.
thanks for the update
4263664 Pff. Simple.
4265330 Welcome!
40# are and 007 much
Aw man, did you miss an opportunity for a Bond look?
Also...
Is it wrong I read that in a Phoenix Wright voice?
4797061 I've never played Phoenix Wright, but that doesn't make it wrong. :P As long as you're enjoying yourself, dude.
Where do you get rogercopy from? The radio etiquette I know has those as two separate responses that mean the same thing. Roger is one and copy is the other.
7008978 ...you know, I'm not really sure. I grabbed some radio-sounding words from somewhere in my brain, and that's what I came up with. So, I guess I didn't really 'get' it from anywhere in specific?
"stalking" or "to stalk"