Post by nirvash on Jan 6, 2010 22:08:41 GMT -5
Dismembered and maladroit, a decimated Mobile Suit lumbered haphazardly into the Gwazine's behemoth hangar, maneuvering thrusters activating wildy, desperate to control their body's course. Finally, a mangled foot contacted the chamber's nadir, electromagnets activated sporadically and haltingly, and tremendous tearing sound would've been audible as the GM Sniper II's ankle actuators tore themselves apart, slamming the Mobile Suit's body against the hangar floor.
"Woah, watch the fuckin' paintjob, amigo!" A marine equipped in a normalsuit hastily pushed himself out of the way of the falling war machine, still slightly edgy from not being able to get his nicotine fix in the evacuated hangar. Interrupted in the middle of whatever hectic work they were already doing, normalsuited crewman quickly jumped to the newly arrived GM, dragging with them a 0G gurney for injured pilots. They fumbled around for the emergency open lever near the cockpit, hoping the pilot wouldn't bleed to death if he was injured while they screwed around with an unfamiliar model's workings. Fortunately, the cockpit opened from the inside, and the pilot pulled himself out, cursing the machine's recent inability to land in a comfortable position.
The pilot signaled the medical team away, and happy to oblige him, the medical team already dealing with more people than they could handle, they jumped off to the next mobile suit as the hangar was sealed and repressurized. Kreuz peeled off his helmet and gingerly poked a few ribs to make sure he was right in sending the help away. "Goddamn ship, you'd best be worth all that." He kicked the Gwazine's metal plating and fell back against his GM, wiping the sweat from from his face with a gloved hand. The marine drifted over.
"You know what, buddy? I'm not sure what you just fucked up more, the hangar deck or that shit-ugly GM." Kreuz looked up at the floating marine and gave him a death glare that rivaled any of the hardass drill instructors he had seen before now, and the marine was sufficiently impressed or scared-- it was hard to tell with people who got a kick out of riding a missile or strapping a rocket to their back and flying through a battlefield full of mobile suits fighting and ships firing Mega Particle Cannons-- and he backed off.
"Alright, alright, I guess I'll let it slide this time." The marine turned around leisurely, deciding now would be a good time for a cigarette break. He stole one last look at the resting pilot, who seemed to him to either be dead or sleeping with his eyes open (a trick his grandma often did, as he remembered fondly) and tried to sneak off to a side room before his CO would notice. "Asshole."
Kreuz watched the marine go, and smirked a little as he shouted when a crane arm swung dangerously close to him. "Watch where you're fucking swinging that shit, buddy!" At least there's some entertainment, Kreuz thought.
"Woah, watch the fuckin' paintjob, amigo!" A marine equipped in a normalsuit hastily pushed himself out of the way of the falling war machine, still slightly edgy from not being able to get his nicotine fix in the evacuated hangar. Interrupted in the middle of whatever hectic work they were already doing, normalsuited crewman quickly jumped to the newly arrived GM, dragging with them a 0G gurney for injured pilots. They fumbled around for the emergency open lever near the cockpit, hoping the pilot wouldn't bleed to death if he was injured while they screwed around with an unfamiliar model's workings. Fortunately, the cockpit opened from the inside, and the pilot pulled himself out, cursing the machine's recent inability to land in a comfortable position.
The pilot signaled the medical team away, and happy to oblige him, the medical team already dealing with more people than they could handle, they jumped off to the next mobile suit as the hangar was sealed and repressurized. Kreuz peeled off his helmet and gingerly poked a few ribs to make sure he was right in sending the help away. "Goddamn ship, you'd best be worth all that." He kicked the Gwazine's metal plating and fell back against his GM, wiping the sweat from from his face with a gloved hand. The marine drifted over.
"You know what, buddy? I'm not sure what you just fucked up more, the hangar deck or that shit-ugly GM." Kreuz looked up at the floating marine and gave him a death glare that rivaled any of the hardass drill instructors he had seen before now, and the marine was sufficiently impressed or scared-- it was hard to tell with people who got a kick out of riding a missile or strapping a rocket to their back and flying through a battlefield full of mobile suits fighting and ships firing Mega Particle Cannons-- and he backed off.
"Alright, alright, I guess I'll let it slide this time." The marine turned around leisurely, deciding now would be a good time for a cigarette break. He stole one last look at the resting pilot, who seemed to him to either be dead or sleeping with his eyes open (a trick his grandma often did, as he remembered fondly) and tried to sneak off to a side room before his CO would notice. "Asshole."
Kreuz watched the marine go, and smirked a little as he shouted when a crane arm swung dangerously close to him. "Watch where you're fucking swinging that shit, buddy!" At least there's some entertainment, Kreuz thought.