06-17-2008
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Hurrying up the stairs, Glytch heard footsteps coming downwards…towards him. Three security guards were fumbling with their weapons after spotting his so unabashedly put on display, their cowardly plans of escape being put on hold. Why did they always come in threes?
“We need backup, damnit!” someone cursed into a radio, receiving broken words and questions in return to the statement. Of course, they’d be left answerless. Glytch grabbed one guard by the arm and flung him to the side, the sound of him tumbling down the stairs drowned out by the echo if a snapping neck. He had just enough room for his next attack, knocking the gun away from the next guard with a swift punch to his hand. Grabbing hold of the railing, he lifted up his legs, planting them on the guard so unfortunately standing behind him. Using that as leverage, he pushed back, knocking the guard into the wall, and grabbing another by the collar, throwing him down the stairs, his face slamming into the door, blood splattering all over it in a masterpiece of morbidity. After reaching the top of the stairs, he looked around for the door numbers. There! They were unusually placed beside the door itself, near the doorstopper, a faded and chipping black. Who’s idea was this? For a guy, Xiro sure did a lot of talking into his earpiece. Zion had days she wished she could drown out his line, if only for a moment or two. Unfortunately, Ares had disabled that function from their equipment, due to a mishap a few months back. Her heart jumped as he tapped the screen and she was flung back into both realities, her fears being confirmed as her comrade’s curse words were cut off with weapon fire. Glytch listened to the echo’s of Xiro’s bullets, increasing the speed of his footfalls as his eyes darted from door to door, one pistol drawn, hand over hand police style, careful to slow his breathing so as not to give away his position. Right, like that would help. Finally his eyes settled on the door at the end of the hall and he began to hurry towards it, the gold plaque being more than enough to confirm his suspicions. The hall then turned into three, the one he was in, one on the left, and one on the right. He paused, the hair on his neck raising as he heard something over the ringing alarms that played their desperate tune. Looking to his right, his eyes widened to see that familiar suit, the polished shoes reflecting the flickering lights of the hall. The wire of the earpiece seemed to be like an IV of communication, his glasses serving as guardians of the ultimate hide and seek. The agent began to walk towards him, and from reaction, Glytch looked for a way out to his left, only to see another agent mimicking the one on his right. There were two. As soon as he realized this, they instantly quickened their pace, running towards him and drawing their guns. Glytch stumbled forward, a move that was going to cost him if he didn’t repay his folly, bursting through the door with adrenaline powered force. They were closing in now. “GLYTCH, LEAVE IT! GET OUT OF THERE!” Came Zion’s voice yelling at him in his ear, beads of sweat testing the water proof communication equipment as they rolled down his head. He ignored it. Fumbling, fumbling, twitching, searching, praying, whispering. Glytch saw the package sitting on the desk and he grabbed it as the door opened, bullets spraying all around him as he burst through the glass, unharmed. For the moment. He threw the package into the air, then planted his feet on the side of the building, running up as fast as his feet would carry him without snapping in half, jumping up with less than halfway to go, grabbing the package and letting gravity pull him down towards the rooftop. Xiro was only a few yards away, and he planted his feet firmly, staring at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled for breath and composition. “We have to get out of here.” he said in a ragged breath, desperate to hear- “There’s a pawn shop across the street. The phone is behind the counter.” Zion said, her heartbeat practically being transmitted over the line.
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 Hamtaro was never the same again. 
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Xiro watched as Glytch landed close by, giving a sigh of relief at the sight of the package within his hand. Both of them had accomplished what they had came for. Zion's demands to get out were like preaching to the choir, for as soon as she had given the location of the way out, the 3 agents (The two who had met Glytch and the one from the encounter with Xiro) stepped out in robotic unison, their hands all moving in the same gestures to secure their grip on their semi-automatic handguns. Xiro looked from them to the space between the bank and the building next to it, then to Glytch. Neither of them had to say anything, as the next moment Xiro rolled, jumping to the building over, then kicking back as he fell, pushing off between each building to slow himself as brick and mortar crumbled. As he hit the ground, Xiro turned to find that Glytch had not followed, more than likely having jumped off of the opposite side of the building. There was one person who was now following, and that being an agent. Pulling out a grenade, Xiro pulled the pin from it and dropped it onto the ground, dashing away as the agent landed in the vicinity, as the next second the explosion destroyed the body it was inhabiting, turning back to a female office worker, obviously now deceased.
He felt no remorse for this as he kept up his pace, heading towards the chain link fence that lead to the street only to stop. The S.W.A.T. had arrived, believing it to be a full on bank robbery. There was no way that he would be able to cross the street, at least not so close to here. Turning back the way that he came, he moved to the closest window, removing the boards as he quickly as he could before climbing into the cobweb filled room of some abandoned apartment. Ramming against the door, Xiro thankfully found the wooden frame breaking against his shoulder instead of the other way around as he moved through the empty complex, hopping over junk and debris, moving past what appeared to be an old crime scene, chalk still on the ground and worn yellow tape flapping from a doorway. When he reached the end of the hall he entered that apartment, giving the window next to it similar treatment as he worked his way back outside, heading out onto the streets nowhere near the swat now. He was in the middle of the street when he heard it fast approaching, a large diesel powered engine. Turning to look up at the driver, he saw it to be the agent from before, now in control of a delivery truck, barreling towards him. Running down the street with the vehicle in hot pursuit, Xiro yelled into his headset "How many buildings is this thing away!?" Ares watched it all with a look of determination upon his face, his free hand scratching his beard as he focused between Glytch's and Xiro's screen. "Three. Just keep moving down the street. You're almost there, Kid." He could hear the truck gaining speed, and he needed to evade it, big time. Turning for a moment as he ran, he drew his pistols as he fired towards the tires, none of the bullets seeming to hit. Cursing, he tossed them behind as he drew out his shotgun, firing once at it, getting the left tire finally. The truck swerved, crashing into a telephone pole as the back of the cab tipped over, spilling its contents of Tastee Wheat out into the street. Making a mad dash for the pawn shop, entering the doors right behind Glytch. They both dived over the counter as the SWAT team opened fire, pushing the phone over as to not let it get damaged as Xiro nodded to Glytch, being given the go ahead to be the first one out as he lifted the receiver, suddenly fading into green lines and then to nothingness, the phone dropping onto the floor.
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 This is my Mudkip Charlie. He needs to be fed. Please click!
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06-17-2008
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Glytch hung up the phone hurriedly, waiting eagerly for it to ring, sweat rolling down his face in warming droplets. He ducked as he grabbed the packages and tore them open, bullets flying and tearing the entire place apart. He didn’t care that he’d come all this way for two stupid radios, turning them on quickly and trying to listen for the phone over all the noise, praying the wire hadn’t been taken out.
“GOT IT!?” He yelled. That beautiful melodious sound finally came to his ears. He reached up for it as dozens of bullets ripped through the windows, putting it to his ear as the door was forced open. He’d come to adore seeing that ceiling, even if its dull grayness of it was distorted by the bodily fluids that dripped out of his pores, pooling in his eyelids and falling in streams as he blinked. Seeing Zion’s face before his, no matter how tired she was, no matter if she had bags under her eyes and circles, was like looking directly into the crystalline eyes of a resurrecting angel. Zion smiled down at him, the plug having long since been removed, putting her hand on his sweat soaked shoulder. “Good job.” was all she said, turning her attention back to her computer as her hand moved away with her body, returning to its dance on the keyboard as she sat down. Glytch grinned and sat up, rubbing the back of his neck and groaning. This mission was going to stick with him for a while, that was for sure. “Did you get the code recorded?” Zion did something rare: she tore her eyes away from her screen and looked up at him over the monitor. The blue in them reflected the sparks from the loose wires and the glow from the screen, holding within them an answer he had nearly died to hear. “I did.”
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Hamtaro was never the same again.
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06-17-2008
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Xyro sat up, rubbing his head as he slowly climbed to his feet and moved to his chair next to Ares, who was already prepping for take-off. Pulling up the controls and the monitor to his level, going through his checklist of the equipment before giving the all clear to his captain. And with that, the Illiad lifted off, heading back towards New Zion. They moved through the rabbit holes for about 15 minutes before breaking to the surface, the gloomy and downcast world around them visible for the first time. In the distance, a large domed structure was barely visible, growing larger by the second as they blasted full power towards it. When they reached roughly 1 mile from it, Xiro pulled up a headset and slipped it on, flicking a switch on the side. "New Zion this is Mark IV make ship Iliad, requesting entry. " After a moment of silence a female voice responded, one of the 10 receptionists who were stationed in a Construct-like program, able to communicate with any of the ships.
"Roger, Iliad you are cleared for entry at hangar 18 on the East side." Ares nodded at that as he typed in the coordinates, letting the server dock the ship for him as he unbuckled his seat, turning back to the crew. "Alright people, head to your rooms now and get dressed. We'll be moving straight to the council chambers with this message." 5 minutes later the 4 stepped out of the Iliad, Ares ahead of the group, dressed in a white outfit that could only be described as a fusion of a toga and a cape/shawl, the latter being red to represent his status as a captain. Behind him were his three crew members, all in their standard white togas with blue to represent their naval services. Looking over at her, Xiro gave a quick smile and nodded his head to Zion. He knew she didn't care much for his talking, but he still wanted to give some sign to tell her it was going to be alright. Truth be told, it was more to tell himself it would be alright as well. As they left the docking bay and the large gate fully opened, they were finally given view to the city of New Zion. It was larger than Xiro could have remembered, so it seemed every time he entered. The roof was so far above that it was impossible to determine the heighth, with a display of a night sky above, stars twinkling gently as they began to appear for the night. The graphic projectors had been one of the first things designed when rebuilding the city, to make for something more to look forward to than grey clouds, or just blank metal. There were towers rising in every direction, hundreds of apartments on each one. There was no fear of overpopulation as there once was in Old Zion, and those who saved up could even retire to a section of the land near the council tower, where small cottages were placed around real grass. The quartet headed in that direction past others as some nodded, and eventually people began to gawk at Zion, moving quickly away as Ares waved his cane towards them, quickening the group's pace as they entered the Council Tower, heading for the elevator. It had been 30 minutes, and the council had been fully called to order, the other ship captains ( only the Iliad's crew were allowed to stay, it believed to be their right for their dangerous mission) sitting in the seats around the general seating area, every eye focused on the screen as the message slowly loaded. Nothing could be seen at first, save for a black sky and rain. There was no explanation for where it was, or how it was being recorded, but slowly a voice began to speak. The people began to murmur, for they all knew it very well. It was Neo. "I'm not sure when this message will be found, or if ever... I don't have very long, there's no telling how much data this thing can hold nor the power on it. I have to get directly to the point. The code of Smith has not been completely eradicated, just like mine. Both have been sealed away, hidden. Someone will find it, and the chances of it being someone that shouldn't find it are very high. I have no idea where this is, but I know of one person who could be persuaded to tell even a fraction of a hint. The Merovingian." The voice grew quiet for a moment, as if debating whether to say the last bit, worried of the capacity running out." I have one last message before I turn this off. To my child, wherever you are. I love you, and will always be proud of you." And with that, the message flickered into white noise before fully turning off.
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This is my Mudkip Charlie. He needs to be fed. Please click!
Last edited by Sai Rhavan : 06-18-2008 at 12:25 PM.
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06-18-2008
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Wearing the accepted Zion attire was always quite difficult for the woman so named after the haven, such a switch from the loose pants and heavy shirt she wore on the ship. So much of her skin could be seen that it seemed near impossible to avert the eyes of the male persuasion. A simple chord of leather hung around her neck, a crystal charm on the end, one that had been given to her over a decade past. It coruscated in the false graphic light of the city, glittering in unison with the fabricated stars that hung above. She’d gotten used to the people staring and even hearing their whispers. It took some time to become accustomed to the crowds, but as a child she had learned to deal with it in a positive manner.
As the council finally found its peace, half an hour being quite reasonable in comparison to the last few meetings, Zion took her seat between Glytch and Xiro. Glytch was never one for sitting still, and was fumbling with the pure white fingerless gloves he wore with his toga to keep his hands busy. His hair, though still an insane mess of light brown strands, had at least been cleaned, containing some sort of fruit like scent that Zion was unable to place. Perhaps had it been another time and her senses not directed elsewhere, she would have known, but for the being of the current time, it remained a nagging mystery. Everyone except for her seemed to lean forward as the message was starting to be played, but she found herself nearly rising from her seat when she heard that voice. Like a thief in the night, it seemed to gather all of their thoughts and doubts and throw them out on the floor and shatter them to pieces. What had just happened? In a way their minds had quite practically been used, been violated by a voice from the past, a voice that only two of the Iliad crew knew, much less remembered. "Play it again..." her voice was a mere whisper among the mass of confused voices and discernable whispers. Zion didn’t quite know how she’d found the strength, but suddenly her eyes were scanning across the faces of the council, now standing on her feet. “Play it again!” she exclaimed, swallowing quickly as she motioned with great emotion, such a rarity of a display. Mumblings. That was it!? That’s all they would give her!? Surely not! Surely it could be replayed! “I said, PLAY IT AGAIN!” She demanded, her eyes forming into ice as she glared at them all, her chest rising and falling in her great frustration, raven strands of her silky hair hiding parts of her face, as though embarrassed by her actions, trying to conceal her countenance of anger.
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Hamtaro was never the same again.
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06-18-2008
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Xiro bit his lip as he listened to the outbreak next to him. His heart went to Zion in that moment, for he had never seen her act as such, never so determined, full of rage. So obviously in pain. The council was just as shocked at her outburst, but had no other option at the moment of what they could do.
"We shall not replay the message, for there is no time. Captain Ares, if you would be so kind as to keep your crew in check?" Ares stood, placing a hand on Zion's shoulder. It was all that he did, he applied no force to make her sit, but nevertheless it was there, as both a sign of him being a mentor, and her captain. As the room finally came to order,a switch in speakers went underway. An elderly man in a full blue toga, a long beard with no hair atop his head stood at the podium after thanking the last speaker, clearing his throat. "It has come to my attention that there needs to be commendations. Not just for the mission that has just successfully been accomplished, but also for that of the spotless record, time after time. As such, we believe that it is time for a full fledged promotion, with a larger payroll, ship, and even crew. Captain Ares, the counsel would like to thank you for a job well done, and congratulate you with the christening of our newest ship, the Prometheus. If you would be so kind, follow me to hanger 01."
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This is my Mudkip Charlie. He needs to be fed. Please click!
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06-18-2008
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No time?! NO TIME?! They had gone on a mission with three agents chasing them and had risked their lives, but here they were telling her that there was no time. She refrained with all of her fleeting strength from clenching her fists, the warm palm of her captain on her bare shoulder making her feel odd to her stomach. As much as she would have wished to obey his unspoken order, she found carrying out the task of sitting down so…daunting. How could she sit down at a time like this? Or better yet, how could they?
She felt Glytch’s muscled arm wrap around her shoulders in friendly understanding, but she was to numb to even acknowledge the embrace, sitting there as she tried to form words from voices that seemed a million miles away. Prometheus? Hanger one? What? “Z? Z, come on.” Zion looked up to see Glytch standing over her, everyone else that had been in the chamber already gone. How much time had passed? What was going on? Why couldn’t they replay the message? After her comrade helped her to her feet, they joined the rest of the crew outside, the simulated graphic makers of night now fully working, the entire city illuminated by “street” lights and lamps within the buildings. When they finally arrived at the hangar, one of the largest were one to make comparisons, Glytch stood over near Xiro, looking back over his shoulder at Zion who seemed to stand there like some sort of being stripped of their soul and left for dead. “Think she’s gonna be okay?” he asked, raising a brow as he changed his gaze back to Xiro’s face, noting one or two small scars and lines of definition that had come with his twenty years of living. It seemed that the older man was about to reply when the giant door of the hanger began to rise, making a metallic sound that echoed towards the outside, though not inwards. This of course meant that there must have been something of great size to have killed an echo. Oh and great would have been an understatement in the description of the monster of a ship which rested before them in ivory painted metallic glory. Beams of energy strips glowed a lavender ice blue, illuminating the great wings which were half folded inwards. The main body obviously consisted of two or three levels. More than likely one was for missions and data, another for actually living, and perhaps another for storage. It shape was oddly unique, in the shape of a spider or some sort of arachnid, the giant gun turrets serving as a warning for anyone who would come too close…and also a reminder that treaties weren’t really taken too seriously. “………..Holy….” Glytch whispered, nearly being knocked forward as he felt a strong hand pat his back “Pretty nice, eh?” The voice was masculine, but not too deep, and seemed quite happy, as though the keeper of it was suppressing a laugh. Cairo was a young man in comparison to most of the crew members he had worked with before, but seemed to be almost a decade older than Glytch, and at least a third of one older than Xiro. His medium length hair was an interesting shade of orange, very light in its weight and straight, in somewhat of a spikey mess in the back from the goggles he wore on his head, a line of dirt in an incomplete figure 8 shape around his eyes showing he had just taken them off, a couple of beads of sweat glistening in the lights that streamed in through the great windows of the hangar. “Name’s Cairo.” he said, holding out his hand. Still in awe and unable to take his eyes off the ship, Glytch absentmindedly shook his hand “Glytch.” “Hey, just wait till you see the inside.” Cairo looked from Xiro to Glytch and grinned upon seeing Zion, wiping his hands on his already dirty and grease stained long sleeved shirt. “Come on.” He walked ahead of them and up the lit ramp that led inside the great beast, his heavy boots starting a song on the metal that was soon being sun by the footfalls of the Iliad crew. The entire inside of the ship was completely updated as far as technology could currently take it, giant screens and stations on each side. In the center was a clear cylinder about 6 feet across, holding within it a liquid the same color of the beam strips on the wings outside. The floors were black and the halls quite wide, leading downwards, as safely assumed, to sleeping quarters that could hold about a dozen people. The kitchen was also on that floor, and stocked to its capacity. In the main “room” of the ship that they were standing in, the clear and impenetrable glass of the face of the ship was large enough for all of them to see out of, and for three people to sit behind at the computers and barely used controls, all cleaned and tested. An arch was on the left side, leading to a room that had eight plug in chairs ready for use, all looking more comfortable than the cloth covered metal things they’d lied in for so long. The computers and screens were all different sizes, all able to be easily adjusted and moved around if need be. There were two chairs, both appearing quite enticing to Zion who had been adjusted to the simple worn in one she’d known for years. Disks and square shaped diskettes were all filed on neat shelves close by, housing all the information and training they could ever dream of. “This is Locke.” Cairo stated, putting his hand on the comfortable fabric of the chair on the right at the screens, spinning it so that it faced forward. A beautiful young woman sat there, but like Cairo, was not properly dressed for the occasion , wearing simple black pants and a heavy long sleeved brown shirt with sewing lines on the arms. Her hair was a light brown, complimenting so easily her bright brown eyes. Locke smiled at them, taking off her headset and letting it rest around her neck “Co communications and full time matrix bug.” she said with a gentle shrug. “Wait…you guys are….” “Additions to your crew? Basically. We’ve been relocated from the Chambers and Scion.” “What did you do?” Zion asked blankly, crossing her arms lightly over her chest. “We didn’t do anything. This ship is huge and its going to take more than your crew to manage it.” Locke replied Zion nodded in agreement and looked past the woman to the screen, watching the familiar falling lines of green, nothing how much clearer it was to see them on these screens. This was going to be such a change from the pig sty they had been in for so long, so crisp and clean. A part of her became rather thankful that she was Zion born. That way she could stay out here and look at the screens instead of being plugged in and away from it. ((Note for anyone who's following with this topic: New character profile sheets posted on page one ))
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Hamtaro was never the same again. Last edited by Ravynzyon : 06-18-2008 at 08:26 PM.
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The crew of the Prometheus had spent the night walking every inch of it, learning the ins and outs of the ship, getting accustomed to the the polar opposite creation of their ship. Before they had to move through areas hunched over, with greased and dusty rails. The place could never be kept completely clean, it seemed. The Prometheus however, was a majesty. Sterile from head to toe. Xiro had spent his first hour just moving things into the bunkers (Bunkers, not just a cot surrounded by steam pipes.) such as posters and clothes. He was situated in the corner of the room, ideal for someone like him who would constantly roll in his sleep, limiting him from falling to one side only. He paid no attention to who took the bunks above and next to him, putting the last of his extra equipment in his footlocker and heading to the cabin to receive orders from Ares.
After an hour of heavy lifting from the Iliad to the Prometheus, Xiro was beat. He had gotten only about 5 minutes to socialize to his new crew members before being caught by the captain on an unscheduled break from his work. This had lead to a quick scolding. Surprised that he had not been told to take a lap around the ship as his usual punishment, he counted his blessings as he went double time with the last bit of his work. Ares had a lot on his mind, pacing around the Captain's room as he scratched his chin, ignoring the pain in his leg as he went. The message meant a lot, that was for certain, and not just for Zion. Somewhere out there existed the source codes for the program known as The One, as well as the greatest virus the Matrix had ever known. If put into the wrong hands, it could bring the destruction of the Matrix, and this time they had no Neo to save them. Sighing, he finally stopped pacing as he headed for the small bed that was furnished for him, laying down. He had 15 minutes set on his watch, he planned to take a nap. Sadly enough, not even sleep could keep his mind from work, drifting off to slumber within the 10 seconds his head had hit the pillow. Every muscle on Xiro's body ached as he sat down on the bed, refusing to give in to sleep, instead staring at the metal bars of the bed above him. Pulling out an old music player with large headphones, he put the two ends near (But not covering) his ears as he slipped his goggles down, it now impossible to tell if he was awake or asleep.
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This is my Mudkip Charlie. He needs to be fed. Please click!
Last edited by Sai Rhavan : 06-18-2008 at 08:10 PM.
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“So how long have you been into communications?” Zion asked, looking over at Locke who sat beside her.
She’d put her few belongings from the Iliad into an old crate like box, leaving it in the corner of the computer room to take to her bedside later on. She hadn’t stayed on Prometheus as long as the others had, going back to the council chambers alone to look for the recording…but it was no longer there. Zion told herself that it must have been put in safe keeping, or perhaps given to Ares. However, when she went to her captain’s chambers, so saw that he was in what appeared to be a deep and well earned slumber. As much as it killed her, she took the steps back away from the door, taking a seat in a chair she was sure was going to get used to, talking to her newest female shipmate. She wouldn’t lie to herself, being more than thankful to have someone without a Y chromosome around. “Two and a half years.” Locke replied, leaning back in her chair and putting her hands behind her head. “You?” she asked, raising a brow though showing no particular interest in her question. “I’ve been able to read it since I was a child, but officially on a crew?” She hardly had to think back “eleven years.” “eleven? Usually code readers are older.” Locke pointed out to the Zion born woman, looking over at her. Now her curiosity was peaked. “There was a shortage of them…after the Revolution.” Zion’s voice seemed to be fragile, barely above a whisper. The word she had finished that sentence with brought back the memories of her youth, of growing up. But oh those memories were few and far between, as she was forced to leave her youth behind in Zion when she left on the Iliad, and she had grown up far too fast, living in two worlds it seemed. One was Zion, the real world, the other in the codes of the matrix, on the Iliad, serving loyally and outdoing those before her in her tasks. There was a silence between the two women, and it was broken by Locke who let her hands fall into her lap. “Your dad would be proud.” Zion looked over at her, her face, as it always seemed to be, a blank slate free of expression. A weak attempt at a smile was drawn onto the slate as she got out of her chair, picking up her box from the corner and heading out of the room “Too bad he‘s dead, then.” Zion was in such a train of thought that she didn’t notice Xiro laying there on the bottom bunk across from the one she was walking towards, setting the box down on the opposite side of the night stand. She began to quietly go through her items, and putting them in the drawer she finally saw Xiro in his slumber consciousness. She continued with her actions, stowing away notebooks, mostly notes on past missions, as well as a few pieces of jewelry and the dog tags used to identify her…which wouldn’t really work if she didn’t have them on. It seemed though that everyone knew who she was, could see her bloodline straight through her. Even if you had never met her, there was just something about her…something….like them. Dog tags just weren’t needed.
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Hamtaro was never the same again.
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Xiro watched Zion for a bit when he found himself not slipping into half sleep, daring not to say a word for a while as his eyes followed the various items she moved around, and occasionally her face. He kept his face from smiling as he looked to her eyes, a few memories coming back, of times she had saved him. Always level headed, always a sarcastic response. Surely enough whatever there was of that smile turned to a frown as the memories of the meeting earlier today had come back. Never had he seen Zion act in such a manner, it was so far-fetched, the exact opposite of her personality. It stung to see her reaction, because he knew that he could do nothing. She was all alone in that respect.
Maybe that was why he had always been able to get along with Zion. Both of them had been orphaned from such a young age, he from day one, she from 2 months into the world. So much in common from such a horrible and lonely fate, and such a sick and twisted bond of friendship. He still remained silent as he turned off his music and slipped the goggles back to his forehead as he sat up, trying to find something to say to someone who didn't care for the sound of his own voice. Still, the feeling that he needed to say something to her persisted. A feeling like he needed to say the right words to her right then and there. "We've come far from the naval academy, huh? I can still remember just how much of a dick our Drill Sergeant was." It was petty talk, but at least it was something. throwing his feet out and over to set on the floor, he finally untied his boots, pulling them off as he stretched his feet for a moment. His fingers glided over the metal of the bed above him, running against the smooth material and sheerly surprised of how flakes of rust weren't falling down. That was always annoying on the Iliad in their cramped single rooms, especially when said pieces fell down your open mouth as you slept. Snapping back from his own mental tangency, he gave a quick smirk to Zion to show that he was still there mentally, before adding something else to what he had said to her. "I specifically remember you putting all of the other coders in our sect to shame."
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This is my Mudkip Charlie. He needs to be fed. Please click!
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Linear Mode
