Post by Threid on Mar 17, 2010 20:18:02 GMT -5
They formed a triangle - the three people seated around the circular table. You could tell a lot about a group of people from the way they sit down. Kyle couldn't help musing. An equilateral triangle likely meant a formal setting, or three people who didn't know each other very well. An obtuse triangle often meant that one of the group was the leader, with the two other clustered around him. Alternatively, two of the group didn't like each other. Finally, the acute triangle meant that two of the group had an affinity for each other, and the third person was the outsider.
The triangle was acute, but not for any logical reason Kyle could think of. He and Madelaine formed the short side, and Tybalt sat - or rather lounged - opposite them. It wasn't hard to imagine him with his feet up on the table. He straightened the feather in his hat, and began smoothly, "Friends, pilots, fellow mobile suit team members, lend me your ears. And when the battle starts, lend me your gears."
Kyle grinned and Madelaine groaned. He didn't mind Tybalt taking the leader in their co-leader situation. The guy seemed a capable enough pilot, and he was a better talker; if he proposed any weak strategies, Kyle would content himself with poking holes in them and recommending something better.
"Our team has been assembled on the brink of one of the most important land offensives the Earth Federation has ever undertaken; it is we who must fit the capstone for an overarching Federation victory on earth." Tybalt paused for effect. "We have been pulled here from every corner of the Federation - the front lines, veterans, greenhorns; no one is too green or too gray to fight with the blue against the Zeeks." Tybalt smiled. "We have welcomed the red-blooded, the brown-nosers, those who are feeling blue, and even the black-hearted, if they're honest fighters - anyone, as long as he isn't yellow."
Another grin from Kyle, another groan from Madelaine. Tybalt was on a roll; he rose from his seat. "We have the momentum; we have the advantage. We revel in Revil's strategy, reviling the virulent Zeek infection of Earth. We three are but cogs in the machine of war, which is we need to gear up for the upcoming offensive. I hope this small speech has left us well-oiled, coiled and roiled, ready to spring explosively into action."
Tybalt sat down. Kyle wondered if he was going to talk to them about strategy, but the feathered man just sat back in his chair, smiling, and apparently waiting. Guess it's my turn.
"Thanks, Tybalt. Now, here's the plan..." Kyle spent about a half hour summarizing tactics and strategy, explaining how they were to work together as a team of 2 GMs and a Gundam EZ-8. With each passing minute, Tybalt's grin drooped minutely. Madelaine sat up straight, a look of fixed attention on her face.
"And that's about it, unless I'm forgetting something. Madelaine? Tybalt? Questions, comments, complaints?"
"None, sir," they replied in unison.
"Well then, with Tybalt's permission, I'll dismiss us."
"You got it, corporal." Tybalt looked antsy as he rose from his chair. Madelaine stretched as she got up slowly from her chair. "Haven't had a team meeting like that for as long as I can remember," she mumbled, half to herself.
"Yes, well, we must do our best to exude exemplariness," Tybalt put in. "And to that end, I propose a name for our MS team: 'The Quintessential Quixotics' has a nice ring to it."
"Actually, I was thinking that 'Free Radicals' had a nice ring to it," Kyle interjected.
Madelaine stared. "Uh, how about we vote on a name next time we get together?"
Kyle stretched. "Sounds good to me. Let's do our best."
Tybalt shrugged. "I can live with that."
The team finally dissembled, Kyle walking to his quarters, Madelaine to the hangar, and Tybalt to the nearest on-base entertainment.
Tybalt assumed the most relaxed, in-control walking posture he knew as he scouted a few of the local eateries and hangouts. He hadn't meant for the meeting to be commandeered by Kyle, especially after his wonderful speech. It was like uncorking a bottle of champagne, but then letting it sit open until it went flat. He'd make sure he put his speech at the end of the meeting next time. If the new corporal wanted to talk tactics, that was fine - it wasn't really his thing anyway - but he wouldn't let him spoil the mood. A good team needed a good leader and good speeches. Tactics came together on the battlefield; that's the way it was for him. Why should others be any different?
As for the team name, he'd accepted the others to mutely agree to it. Perhaps the mechanic would come around eventually; she hadn't said much, which Tybalt took to mean that she was easily influenced or didn't care. Either way, she'd come around. They always did, with Tybalt.
Kyle walked less quickly than usual back to his quarters. The new corporal was enigmatic, to be sure. He wondered whether talking tactics had been delegated to him. That would be fine - he wasn't really one for speeches anyway - as long as the flamboyant feather-wearer didn't interfere with the truly-important parts of the meeting.
He'd been waiting to introduce the team name to Madelaine ever since he'd first thought it up. Free radical was a chemistry term for an unstable chemical species that was highly-reactive. He thought it was a great name for a team, and he was sure that after he'd explained it to Madelaine, she'd come around. He knew she was the sensible sort, even though she didn't gravitate to tech the way he did. And, in his experience, when you presented sensible people with the truth, they came around.
Whoo. Glad I didn't burst out laughing during the first part of the meeting, or fall asleep during the second. Madelaine couldn't help but congratulate herself on what she considered a meeting well-sat-through. At the very least, it was entertaining. Tybalt sure knew how to turn a word to unique use, and Kyle was well-informed, but a bit too thorough when it came to strategy. She was sure they'd come around eventually. The kids would balance out over time; they almost always did. Now, she just had to think of a name that both corporals would agree on, and that she wouldn't be ashamed of.
The triangle was acute, but not for any logical reason Kyle could think of. He and Madelaine formed the short side, and Tybalt sat - or rather lounged - opposite them. It wasn't hard to imagine him with his feet up on the table. He straightened the feather in his hat, and began smoothly, "Friends, pilots, fellow mobile suit team members, lend me your ears. And when the battle starts, lend me your gears."
Kyle grinned and Madelaine groaned. He didn't mind Tybalt taking the leader in their co-leader situation. The guy seemed a capable enough pilot, and he was a better talker; if he proposed any weak strategies, Kyle would content himself with poking holes in them and recommending something better.
"Our team has been assembled on the brink of one of the most important land offensives the Earth Federation has ever undertaken; it is we who must fit the capstone for an overarching Federation victory on earth." Tybalt paused for effect. "We have been pulled here from every corner of the Federation - the front lines, veterans, greenhorns; no one is too green or too gray to fight with the blue against the Zeeks." Tybalt smiled. "We have welcomed the red-blooded, the brown-nosers, those who are feeling blue, and even the black-hearted, if they're honest fighters - anyone, as long as he isn't yellow."
Another grin from Kyle, another groan from Madelaine. Tybalt was on a roll; he rose from his seat. "We have the momentum; we have the advantage. We revel in Revil's strategy, reviling the virulent Zeek infection of Earth. We three are but cogs in the machine of war, which is we need to gear up for the upcoming offensive. I hope this small speech has left us well-oiled, coiled and roiled, ready to spring explosively into action."
Tybalt sat down. Kyle wondered if he was going to talk to them about strategy, but the feathered man just sat back in his chair, smiling, and apparently waiting. Guess it's my turn.
"Thanks, Tybalt. Now, here's the plan..." Kyle spent about a half hour summarizing tactics and strategy, explaining how they were to work together as a team of 2 GMs and a Gundam EZ-8. With each passing minute, Tybalt's grin drooped minutely. Madelaine sat up straight, a look of fixed attention on her face.
"And that's about it, unless I'm forgetting something. Madelaine? Tybalt? Questions, comments, complaints?"
"None, sir," they replied in unison.
"Well then, with Tybalt's permission, I'll dismiss us."
"You got it, corporal." Tybalt looked antsy as he rose from his chair. Madelaine stretched as she got up slowly from her chair. "Haven't had a team meeting like that for as long as I can remember," she mumbled, half to herself.
"Yes, well, we must do our best to exude exemplariness," Tybalt put in. "And to that end, I propose a name for our MS team: 'The Quintessential Quixotics' has a nice ring to it."
"Actually, I was thinking that 'Free Radicals' had a nice ring to it," Kyle interjected.
Madelaine stared. "Uh, how about we vote on a name next time we get together?"
Kyle stretched. "Sounds good to me. Let's do our best."
Tybalt shrugged. "I can live with that."
The team finally dissembled, Kyle walking to his quarters, Madelaine to the hangar, and Tybalt to the nearest on-base entertainment.
~
Tybalt assumed the most relaxed, in-control walking posture he knew as he scouted a few of the local eateries and hangouts. He hadn't meant for the meeting to be commandeered by Kyle, especially after his wonderful speech. It was like uncorking a bottle of champagne, but then letting it sit open until it went flat. He'd make sure he put his speech at the end of the meeting next time. If the new corporal wanted to talk tactics, that was fine - it wasn't really his thing anyway - but he wouldn't let him spoil the mood. A good team needed a good leader and good speeches. Tactics came together on the battlefield; that's the way it was for him. Why should others be any different?
As for the team name, he'd accepted the others to mutely agree to it. Perhaps the mechanic would come around eventually; she hadn't said much, which Tybalt took to mean that she was easily influenced or didn't care. Either way, she'd come around. They always did, with Tybalt.
~
Kyle walked less quickly than usual back to his quarters. The new corporal was enigmatic, to be sure. He wondered whether talking tactics had been delegated to him. That would be fine - he wasn't really one for speeches anyway - as long as the flamboyant feather-wearer didn't interfere with the truly-important parts of the meeting.
He'd been waiting to introduce the team name to Madelaine ever since he'd first thought it up. Free radical was a chemistry term for an unstable chemical species that was highly-reactive. He thought it was a great name for a team, and he was sure that after he'd explained it to Madelaine, she'd come around. He knew she was the sensible sort, even though she didn't gravitate to tech the way he did. And, in his experience, when you presented sensible people with the truth, they came around.
~
Whoo. Glad I didn't burst out laughing during the first part of the meeting, or fall asleep during the second. Madelaine couldn't help but congratulate herself on what she considered a meeting well-sat-through. At the very least, it was entertaining. Tybalt sure knew how to turn a word to unique use, and Kyle was well-informed, but a bit too thorough when it came to strategy. She was sure they'd come around eventually. The kids would balance out over time; they almost always did. Now, she just had to think of a name that both corporals would agree on, and that she wouldn't be ashamed of.