kuriboh
ZMF 
Registered Newtype
Is Miang. Maybe.
Posts: 1,738
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Post by kuriboh on Oct 2, 2011 21:20:02 GMT -5
Sieglinde hadn't expected the Bigro to be so...well, big. The first time she'd laid eyes on it, she'd been very surprised. Such a big machine for someone of her petite stature seemed like a rather silly juxtaposition, but she'd grown fond of the machine quickly.
It wasn't the most elegant of machines, nor was it equipped specially to handle Newtypes, the way some of Zeon's machines had been in the recent past, but it suited Sieglinde fine. It was familiar to her, even somewhat comforting. She felt safe and protected inside, and she found it easy to block out the press of minds. Sometimes, even she wanted to be alone with her thoughts.
She occasionally entertained thoughts about what a psycommu would feel like. How powerful she'd be if she had one. But they were aprehensive thoughts - sometimes they made her nervous. What if it drove her crazy? What if she killed someone she didn't mean to? No, no the Bigro was enough for her.
She'd spoken to Banks about it once, a year or two ago. The man had shruged and professed his ignorance into the system's workings, but Sieglinde had never pressed the point again - the wave of regret that hit her the first time was more than enough of a dissuasion. It was a short leap of logic to deduce the source of that regret, but she never asked for elaboration. That was something about people she knew very well. Never press. People tended to get unnerved when she did.
But psycommu or not, the Bigro was hers, and she knew it inside and out, and despite it's use, loved every single nut and bolt of it. She could take on the world and never touch it, and never let it touch her.
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Gray
EFF Officer 
Colonel
I admit; I'm impressed
Posts: 1,005
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Post by Gray on Oct 2, 2011 21:11:57 GMT -5
Women in the Earth Federation: Volume II
Interview Transcript Colonel Belanie Reece Interviewed by Lt. Molly Kawaguchi California Base, North America - May 13, 0083 KAWAGUCHI: It's a pleasure to have you here, Colonel Reece.
REECE: The pleasure is mine, Lt. Kawaguchi. How are you doing?
KAWAGUCHI: I'm doing quite well, Colonel.
REECE: That's good.
KAWAGUCHI: So Colonel-
REECE: Yes, Lt. Kawaguchi?
KAWAGUCHI: Can you tell me about your early career?
REECE: Torrington, Honolulu, Odessa, Jab-
KAWAGUCHI: Pardon?
REECE: Those are the places I was assigned.
[Pause]
KAWAGUCHI: Can you tell me about them?
REECE: Torrington is in Australia, Honolulu is an-
KAWAGUCHI: No.
REECE: What?
KAWAGUCHI: Your experiences there.
REECE: Oh, yes.
KAWAGUCHI: Was Torrington first?
REECE: Yes, Torrington was first. I was assigned there after receiving my commission. I was assigned to Honolulu after making Captain and then Odessa when I made Major. Following that I was assigned to Jaburo where I made the rank of Lt. Colonel and then California where I made Colonel.
KAWAGUCHI: What was behind your rapid climb up the ladder? Could you give me any tips?
REECE: Lots of hard work.
KAWAGUCHI: That's it?
REECE: Yes, hard work.
KAWAGUCHI: You only used hard work to gain your position?
REECE: Hard work and dialogue.
KAWAGUCHI: Dialogue? What do you mean by dialogue?
REECE: Talking.
KAWAGUCHI: You talked your way to to your current rank?
REECE: In a manner of speaking, yes... |
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elzam
ZMF Officer
Ensign
Posts: 17
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Post by elzam on Oct 2, 2011 20:19:26 GMT -5
The Garden of Thorns. L1 Shoal Zone. Deep within the gnarled remnants of space colonies, the seeds of rebellion have grown for several years. Almost as a correlation, one pilot's frustration has grown equally.
A thick, pale soup stares back at William from within a large iron pot. William stammers.[/i]
What is it, again?
The soldier working the line sighs. His rank badge evokes sympathy in the elite world of the Garden of Thorns, but his tree-trunk sized arms would convince someone he doesn't need it.
Fish.
William stares blankly as the ladle stirs within the nethers of the pot. Holding his hand up for a follow-up, he's already interrupted by the man who apparently fights mobile suits bare-handed for a hobby.
Don't ask what kind.
William sighs in rhythm as the soup slops into his waiting bowl. Thick lumps of what William presumes at some point in its journey were fish suspend in the surface of the soup, jiggling slightly as William finds a seat in the crowded commissary. He spars with it with his spoon. A shock of lightning shoots from his heels to his head as his concentration is broken.
Corporal Haulk?
Corporal Haulk looks up. He instantly recognized the man's lesser rank. William can't help but notice that he doesn't look at all browbeaten by officers: a sign of a Zeon true believer.
Yes?
William begins to stand. He begins to muse at the mixed blessing of being ripped away from fish surprise. The private breathes in deeply before speaking.
Kid's barely fifteen and already drank the punch, huh.
Commander Delaz wishes to see you immediately.
William is struck at once by a relief from the endless boredom of the Garden and a terrible fear. William can't help but imagine the worst: that someone ready to fall on their sword at Zeon's beck and call would complain to others that he is unpatriotic, or even worse, a Federation sympathizer. Neither was further from the truth when it came to William, but he had heard far too many stories of the "efficiency" of Zeon court-martials.
Y, yes. Please lead the way.
William follows his escort through the dimly lit hallways of the Garden of Thorns. The slipshod facility was only three years old when it was frankensteined together from the remnants of former space colonies, but already the hallway lights had begun to yellow and dim. Minutes stretch together as the two wind throughout the facilities.
The two step onto a small lift. The Private presses a button, but the pre-war motor grinds and shakes the lift.
Maybe maintenance will get to it this season?
William smirks at his own cleverness as the machine jolts to life and his escort rolls his eyes back at him.
The silent ride ends, presenting William a view of one of the numerous command centers shoved together from whatever remnants of Zeon capital ships were scraped together. A large table in the middle is an obvious star-map for strategic planning.
The two brush past the busy room; William can't imagine this is the typical pace, which places him on-guard. They stop behind a tall, bald man. The private speaks up.
Grand Admiral Delaz, Corporal Haulk as you requested.
Spinning on his heels the private escapes, leaving Haulk feeling exposed as the intimidating figure turns around. His thick mustache twitches as he looks over William Haulk, and a noticeable vein in his forehead only adds to his silent intensity. With a voice that demands attention, Delaz speaks.
Corporal Haulk, you were at the battle of A Bao A Qu, correct?
William nods his head quickly.
Sir, yes sir.
Delaz nods sagely.
Then you know of the great harm inflicted to us then, and how we came to this hole to hide and bide our time.
William nods his head. While a bit dramatic, he can't help but feel swayed by Delaz' tone of voice.
That time is now, William. You are to go to Earth.
William opens his mouth in protest. No sound escapes. Secretly, he knows that the ability to actually see the sky is a better choice than pretending to be a sardine in his bunk. Finally, he is able to speak.
A- and do what, sir?
Delaz straightens up. Even were he not actually tall he would tower above everyone else in the room.
You are to travel to Earth and rendezvous with Lt. Commander Gato. Future orders will be given once you arrive.
Gato!?
You have seen the wounds upon our people firsthand during the One Year War. Be strong, and with your arm we may heal them.
Delaz places his right hand on Haulk's shoulder. It is covered in a white glove, but William feels for a moment the Zeonic Pride that everyone else seems to have overflowing.
William salutes and is dismissed as he travels back to the lift, his orders in hand. Slapping the down-switch, the engine makes a hideous noise as the smell of ground-up metal wafts up.
Anything to get out of this monkey tree fort operation...
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thomas
EFF
Senior Chief Petty Officer
Posts: 327
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Post by thomas on Oct 2, 2011 20:06:13 GMT -5
The two men, father and son, drew stares as they strolled like kings through the grocery store--such were the benefits of the Federation Personnel ration card proudly clutched in Tony's hand.
"I can pay you back as soon as my pension comes in," his father would say over and over again. Each time, Tony ignored it and led his father into the next aisle, assembling healthful meals for him that he himself couldn't stomach to eat.
As they checked out, the old Apache cashier gazed enviously on the bounty.
"Hell, Rudie, what happened? You strike it rich?"
"Naw. Tony's just some sort of war hero. They treat 'em pretty well, seems."
The cashier shot Tony a toothless grin that made the grounded pilot cringe.
"Well, hey, maybe you'd be interested in this--Larry Rollins, you know, the rancher? He's got coyote problems. One in particular, I guess. Now, I know you ain't in the best of shape but if your hands are still as steady as they was ten years ago... I know Larry'd pay top dollar. Heard him say so myself."
Tony's father grinned gratefully as they finished and together, he and his son loaded the groceries into the car.
"Dad," Tony said finally. "Do you have that Larry guy's number? The coyote--I'll take care of it for you. You can have the money. I've got plenty."
"Aw, Tony, that's fine. I'll think about it--maybe we can go together." Then, his posture changed. He raised one of his hands. It shook ever so slightly.
"You'll have to do the shootin', though."
--
It was one tiny coyote, Larry Rollins said. A feisty bastard who, no matter how many times he took a potshot, never stayed away. He was a mangled mess now, Rollins said, and that's how you'd know him--a coyote who'd seen better days. The dirtiest, mangiest, most eaten coyot' you'd ever see in your life--and the corpse was what he wanted.
Rudie and Tony sat out under cover that night, with a clear view of the field surrounding Rollins' cowpen. A rifle rested on Tony's legs, his hand wrapped around the stock and his finger laid alongside the trigger. For hours, neither of them said anything, their trained eyes searching the darkness for movement. The night was suffocatingly black, with a full moon that, in between gaps of clouds, cut intricate pictures out of the dark canvas.
"You'll have to get 'em once through the neck," Rudie whispered finally, after an hour or maybe four--no way to tell. "If Rollins is right, the son of a bitch won't go down any other way."
"I know. I won't miss."
"Your hands still steady?"
"Steady as they ever were."
"Yeah, you always were a good shot. They steady up in space too?"
"Even steadier, dad. Even steadier."
And then, they lapsed into silence again.
It all happened very quickly. Rudie spied the loping run of the coyote from far off and nudged his son. Tony saw it too and in a single silent, perfect motion, raised the rifle, led the coyote for a second, and took a single shot. The night lit up around them, casting shadows with the features of their stern faces, and then the world disappeared again.
There was no movement for twenty, thirty, forty minutes. Neither Rudie nor Tony dared say anything.
"Well," Tony said finally. "Either he's dead or he's the best goddamn possum player in the world."
Together, they set out, now breaking up the darkness with a flash light.
"Ah, there he is!" Rudie said triumphantly. Tony glanced at his pointing finger and suddenly recoiled. For the briefest second, he thought he saw his own corpse, the throat bloodied and the eyes vacant, staring off at the moon, a fierce, angry expression crushed onto his face.
"Not bad, kiddo. Not bad," Rudie said, holding up the coyote. It was, indeed, the mangiest either of them had ever seen. "If you'd stayed on earth, you could've joined the state troopers with aim like that."
--
Before he left, Tony's father made him promise to visit Mother Shaw. Tony insisted he would come back to Earth as soon as he could--he had a few things to finish up with the Federation, he claimed, and then he would file for a discharge. Even as Tony told his father these things, he knew they would never happen. He already had his transfer to Fifth Luna in hand, with the promise of a new mobile suit and a shot at the Zeek remnants still floating around the godforsaken asteroid belts of the Earth Sphere. On some level, his father seemed to know this, for he gripped his son all the tighter as he left.
Tony stopped by his old house--he'd been removed from the deed now--just long enough to see Carol playing, alone, in the backyard. He considered getting out, talking to her, asking if she remembered him, but he couldn't bring his muscles to move. Far from trembling, his hands and bones were rock still, as if dead. Once she turned to look at him in the car and even smiled and waved at the strange, thin man watching her from across the street. Tony wanted to vomit.
From there, he drove along the highway until he came to the next town over. Here was the usual reservation ghetto--half-finished houses, cars on blocks, passed out drunks in the street, hoods sniffing glue on every corner. He came to one of the hovels, complete with naked children playing outside, and parked. A couple of young men started over towards him from across the street but it only took a single fierce glance--a glance that whispered truths about death and rebirth that the young men would never again hear in this life--to convince them that this stranger was something beyond anything they'd dealt with before.
Mother Shaw let him in and embraced him like a son.
"Rudie said you would come by, Tony. It's good to see you."
"I think dad wanted you to... You know. Bless me. Protect me."
The old Apache woman looked him up and down and shook her head.
"No. No, Tony, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because..." She trailed off, her fat face not meeting his. Her home was decorated with all the kitsch of the apache voodoo tradition: Jesus Christ sat comfortably next to Indian gods and skulls in her living room.
"Because why?" Tony asked. "Listen, I don't care whether you do or don't but my dad--"
"Tony, hun, it's like this. I can only bless the living."
"What?"
She took him by the hands and sat him down.
"There's something about you. It's not like a normal, living human being. It's like...a corpse. Something else. Maybe not dead, but definitely not alive."
"Was I always like this?"
"No. It's like, when I look at you, I can see wounds all over you. Especially..." She reached out a pudgy finger and touched his throat. "Here. Covered in blood. Like an animal. Tony, it's horrible. Horrible."
They were both quiet for a few moments before Tony stood up.
"I understand. I'll leave now. Don't tell my dad."
"Be careful. Don't do anything foolish. Your anger won't bring you peace."
"Anger? Who said anything about anger?"
"Boy, isn't it obvious? You're like the coyote--the only thing animating you now is anger. You'll go back to those places in the sky and you'll kill and slaughter, like a coyote, and you'll never be satisfied, because revenge doesn't sate. It only makes you hungrier and hungrier."
"I'm not angry."
"Then what are you?"
Try as he might, Tony could not answer that question.
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kuriboh
ZMF
Registered Newtype
Is Miang. Maybe.
Posts: 1,738
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Post by kuriboh on Oct 2, 2011 19:53:16 GMT -5
Dear Mr. Banks,
Space, she thought, was a very liberating thing. A life of seclusion until this point, left with only her thoughts to roam, left Sieglinde in a constant state of awe at the vast nothingness that was only ever a few metres away from her. She'd spend hours staring out at it when she could. Twice she even went walking out there, which was both exhilarating and terrifying. Space made her feel very small.
Things are running smoothly so far. Everybody's tense. It's starting to drive me a little bit nuts, actually.
Inside, she'd let her mind wander, not resisting being caught up in the swirls and eddies of the minds around her. The detatched feeling was one she loved, losing herself as she explored others. It was like walking in space inside her own head, expansive and quiet, lit up by the minds of everyone in the fleet. She'd spend hours like this, letting the feelings of others wash over her, picking out and remembering those who seemed out of sorts to find and talk to later on. Some may have thought it would be overwhelming, but Sieglinde had been doing it her whole life. She couldn't imagine how dull or quiet the world would be without it.
Things are very quiet, too. It's like people are afraid to talk in case we're heard by the Federal forces.
Recently, she'd been abstaining from letting herself go like that. The general atmosphere of the fleet had turned cold and serious. It was almost time, and one would have been a fool not to notice. It was too much negativity, Sieglinde thought, and so contented herself with only wading in up to her ankles - observing but not interacting the way she would have otherwise. It made her sad, but sad was better than depressed, she thought. Someone in this fleet had to keep smiling.
Mum is holding up, but she's terrified. A lot of people are, and I can't say I blame them. I'm scared too.
How are you? I didn't get a chance to see you off when you got transfered over. Do you know when you'll be back? I'm a bit lonely, to be honest. Go figure, right? I probably won't get to see you again until we're neck-deep in trouble, so be safe until then. I'll try to, at least.
Until then,
Sieglinde.
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Post by zerodash0 on Oct 2, 2011 19:39:10 GMT -5
"Oh hell a Colonel!? What next?" Rem thought, muttering "Oh man, busted again..." as he stood and gave a half-hearted salute. "What's this? She looks like a kid! Can this night get any weirder?" He thought, keeping his comments in his head, but unable to hide the grin on his face. Still, he figured it was best to say something.
"Sorry about the ruckus uh... Ma'am," He said, not sounding serious at all, "but it's not like there's much else to do out here..." "What the hell am I saying, this isn't helping at all!" "Uh, er-I didn't mean it like that, it's just... y'know..." He trailed off, scratching the back of his head with a goofy grin.
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tylatz
EFF
Sergeant
Posts: 261
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Post by tylatz on Oct 2, 2011 19:31:36 GMT -5
He did it! Link couldn't believe his luck that he actually pulled it off and got a pistol out of the deal. Quietly he celebrated in a dark recess nearly a kilometer away where he and Kenna had planned to gather. He had sprinted the entire distance and was out of breath, but he didn't care. The room at the officer's club was his to practice in! He might even be able to get away with hosting some dice games there and it would be the start of his new little empire at Torrington.
Grinning from ear to ear he flipped open the cameras view screen and thumbed over to his bounty, the pervert in him wanting to get a good look at what was under that stuffy uniform. Officers were too proper to wear normal clothes making it hard to figure out what equipment they were packing. Not that Link was especially looking or anything. Fuck, he's just kidding himself. His eyes shine as he feasts on the pictures.
That colonel is a pretty hot number. The sweat gleamed in the flash of the camera giving her skin an extra sheen. She even had a tattoo down her back, something Link didn't expect at all from someone that looked timid when he was scouting the place. It was a wonder what else she was into. Link let out a giddy laugh, his eyes hadn't strayed far from her breasts though. Pert things they were. Delicious even. He even liked the way they were framed by her red hair when she spun around in alarm. Just made it even hotter.
.
..
…
Red hair? Link took a closer look at the woman's face. It. Wasn't. Her. “Fuck!”
“Link? Hey, Link, did you get it?” Tubby must have gotten away from the patrol after all. Who'd think that fat bastard would be so fast? Probably thought about Link's promise to buy him all he could eat at the Stop-n-Go.
“Kenna, get over here you fat bastard. We're going back in.”
“I'm not fat and no way, man. I'm out. That was too-”
Link turned the earpiece off and grumbled, “pussy.” This was just a setback. There was no way Link would give up after just one misstep. He would get pictures of that bitch. Better, he'd get nude pics even if he had to use force. He checked the pistol's clip to make sure it was loaded then stowed it at his waist, opposite of his personal preference and began to weave his way across the base. He couldn't approach from the direction he ran, it would be too obvious. No doubt the MPs were already swarming the place. He needed to change and he already had everything he needed.
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Gray
EFF Officer
Colonel
I admit; I'm impressed
Posts: 1,005
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Post by Gray on Oct 2, 2011 19:14:16 GMT -5
The mystery guest on the other side of the door reacted quickly to the yelling. In an instant, the door was cracked just enough for her to peek inside with one eye. Her timing unfortunately coincided with that of the first of the camera's bright flashes. The sudden emission of light overwhelmed her eyes rendering her temporarily blind and so badly startled that she accidentally yanked the door shut while her face was still pressed against it.
Her situation (and panicked yelp) was paled next to that of Molly. Still very drunk from the booze, still very filled with panicked adrenaline, and still just a tad bit horny, the sudden appearance of the stranger set her berserk. She screamed her head off while shielding her bare chest with her arms and trying to turn her back to him. She thankfully still had the skirt of her uniform on but it was so low that the interlocking ink of her lower back tattoo would inevitably come out well in the pictures. That and a decent one of her rear when she dived for the floor.
Even after the intruder had decided to take a flight out the window, Molly remained hysterical. She had thankfully wrapped herself in a blanket when the guest from before timidly inched the door open. A small woman with the proportions of a teenager, wavy brown hair that fell to her shoulders, and the unmistakable insignia of a Colonel on her neat uniform tiptoed inside. She was clutching her nose and more than just a little bit of blood was streaming between her fingers.
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MyTitan
EFF
Petty Officer 1st Class
Now with less effort!
Posts: 140
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Post by MyTitan on Oct 2, 2011 19:13:53 GMT -5
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zepp
ZMF Officer
Lt. Commander
Tony Knight
Posts: 61
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Post by zepp on Oct 2, 2011 18:42:55 GMT -5
Diplomacy
• Republic of Zeon: Allied
• Anaheim Electronics: Allied
• Earth Federation: Friendly
• Riah Republic: Friendly
• Lunar Union: Friendly
• Delaz Fleet: UnfriendlyThe Zeon Reform Party is an environmentalist and pacifist group headquartered in New Berlin. The party was founded in 0081 by then Captain Tony Knight, with the encouragement of Prime Minister Darcia Bakharov in order to encourage a multi-party system within the new Republic of Zeon. Their goals are the salvage and disposal of war debris, the shift of military assets to police assets, and good relations with Luna, Side 6, and the Earth Federation. They often stage protests in New Berlin to purge the government of Zabiists and war hawks. By buying up old Zeon military surplus and converting it into civilian use, they represent a great sector of Side 3 exports to Side 6, Luna, and the Earth Federation. Their profits go towards social programs for Zeon veterans and as a result many veterans support the group in its efforts to clean and pacify Side 3. Generally, they are unfriendly towards Zeons who continue agitate war against the Earth Federation, however they have funded their legal defenses and do their best to have Zeon criminals extradited out of the Federation and into Side 3, where their rights can be monitored. There are rumors the party has a military wing, but this is only believed by fearful Zabiists.
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Radune
ZMF Officer
Ensign
The child of the sun
Posts: 428
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Post by Radune on Oct 2, 2011 18:29:22 GMT -5
 Height: 186cm Age: 29 Family: 3 younger brothers, 3 younger sisters, father, mother. Personality: Valeria is helpful and cheerful. But in her attempts to help people she holds back on her enemies. Because she knows the grief of loss herself, she tries to make sure that nobody has to feel that again. Whether they are feddies or zeon people. While Valeria spends most of her time trying to help other people, she fails to help herself, leading to her having a somewhat weakened condition, even fainting at some times. She believes that the best kind of battle is the one that isn't fought, and that reflects on her choice of sidearm, as well. She has not killed a single person with her pistol, and only use it to frighten people. History: Being the oldest daughter of a working-class family in one of the space colonies in Side 3, Valeria often found herself taking care of her younger siblings while her parents were out at work. However, once the war started, the middle brother found himself in the zeon army, fighting, and dying, at Solomon. This caused Valeria to grow even more protective of her siblings, in her grief. When the youngest brother and youngest sister, twins, joined the army themselves Valeria decided to join as well, in order to protect her siblings from inside, making sure that they all come back home together. During the few battles between Solomon and A Baoa Qu Valeria found herself too agressive, trying too hard to keep everyone alive, and almost lost her life. But not before disabling several Feddie ships on her own, gaining herself several promotions and the title of Ace. |
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inferno
EFF
Petty Officer 1st Class
Posts: 32
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Post by inferno on Oct 2, 2011 17:31:17 GMT -5
-September 19th, 0079-
"Mom? Are you okay? I heard there was an attack- the entire colony's supposed to be evacu-"
"I'm fine Rich. The entire family is fine. We evacuated when the order was given. We're safe onboard this ship, they're calling it White Base. We'll be dropped off on Luna II and go back to Side 7. Don't worry."
"OK, mom. Is the colony itself gone?"
"No, but that library you spent so much time at? It got blown off the map! And to think you could have been there at the time!"
"Yeah, guess I was lucky..."
-December 17th, 0079-
"Hey Rich, news from the higher ups."
"Finally pointing out that some student like me doesn't belong on the front lines?"
The pilot chuckled. Rich Pelkan was the best pilot on the ship, and everyone knew it. "Not too far off. We're being moved to the far rear of the attack formation. Guess someone's pissed with the captain."
"Hey, that's federation politics for you. The ones nobody likes gets moved to the best place to survive."
"And to think we were gonna be up at the spearhead..."
In less than a week later, Richard Pelkan sat at the controls of his GM. His unit at the rear was moving to cover the flank of the fleet. Surprisingly, there wasn't too much zeek activity. Just then, the radio lit up.
"Heads up, we got something incoming."
"It looks big- is it a ship?
"Nah, ships don't move that fast- it must be a mobile ar-"
At that moment, Rich noticed a burst of light to his side. The radio exploded with chatter not soon after.
"...CK WAS THAT?"
"...just a massive shot out of nowhere..."
"The entire spearhead..."
"My god..."
"THE ENTIRE FUCKING SPEARHEAD IS GONE!"
Rich could only sigh. I got lucky again...
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Post by zerodash0 on Oct 2, 2011 17:23:31 GMT -5
Blinded by the camera flash, Rem rushed to take on the unseen intruder. "The hell do you think you're doin' in he--OWWWWW DAMNIT!" He shouted as he stomped right through the shattered bottle, tumbling towards the window and finally getting his vision back as he looked down to see the peeping ninja dart into the shadows. He sat down and tried to console his bleeding feet, looking up at his drunken bedfellow as she searched desperately for clothes. Despite the pain, he couldn't help but chuckle a little as he tossed her his T-shirt.
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Ryocha
ZMF
Master Chief Petty Officer
I know where you sleep.
Posts: 793
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Post by Ryocha on Oct 2, 2011 17:23:00 GMT -5
 NAME: Hugo Alexander Chapman DOB: 14/08/0049 AGE: 34 GENDER: M HAIR: Chestnut brown EYES: Green HEIGHT: 6”0 ETHNICITY: English/Spanish (2nd generation Spacenoid) PERSONALITY MAKE UP: Always tries to be the good man and maintain bonds with colleagues and friends alike, sometimes to a fault. Dissuades negative thinking, instead putting focus on the tasks at hand; if none are presenting themselves, he works out or writes. Mediates personal and non-personal conflicts out of nature, which has often given him the role of the confidant and moral support from his colleagues. Has strong opinions, but rarely speaks his mind openly about them. Is more inclined to support than to lead, though his large stature and nature to take on other people’s problems often puts him in the position of leader more often than he's comfortable with. |
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tylatz
EFF
Sergeant
Posts: 261
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Post by tylatz on Oct 2, 2011 17:15:28 GMT -5
A guy? Miss Colonel Cunt had been busy during her little layover at Torrington. Link fought back his urge to let out a low whistle. This new guy was bad news though, he didn't seem to have drunk enough of the bottle judging by the sense of balance to hop on one foot to the bed which sunk down towards him. If this played out wrong Link could end up in a fight and he wouldn't be able to get away with shooting someone here. Fuck, this wasn't good.
The woman was awake. Great. Things got better, but at least she was probably completely wasted with that thick slurring of hers. Possible hostage or diversion. At least that's what he thought until there was a knock on the door causing even more motion in the room. It also meant one of the two points of egress were blocked. Now all he needed was for the patrol from earlier to show up with Kenna because that chubby fuck got caught, Link just knew it. He sighed and decided that there was only one thing to do. He double checked the bandanna over his face and pulled down the cloth holding his hair back to make him look like some freaky long haired ninja. Now or never, Link.
He rolled out from under the bed, the opposite side from where he smashed the bottle, and sprung to his feet brandishing the pistol and camera with wrists crossed like they taught him to do with a flash light back at the academy. He hammered the trigger as fast as he could to blind the two occupants with the flash of the camera. Their bodies seemed to move in slow motion due to the strobe light effect created by the pictures he was snapping. But Link wasn't moving in slow motion at all, he dashed to the window while taking his shots and leaped through the opening.
It was three floors up. He forgot about that. It's something he really should have remembered. The seconds he had to ponder on the fact seemed like hours as the ground rushed at him. He had a bad habit of falling long distances, but he's also gotten pretty good at sticking the landings. Already turned upside down he hit the ground with his upper shoulders and rolled the force down his spine to the soles of his boots as he carried it out into a somewhat graceful motion. Saying a quick prayer for hitting the ground and ignoring the throbbing pain he dashed for the dark sections of the base.
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