Thrown in a bit of an NPC there for us to share- feel free to have her introduce! Alternatively, feel free to have a tech specific to Gabby's suit- feel free to run with some light upgrades- maybe holding back from flight just yet (I want to save it for another op for both of them) and I'll warm us up to their next op!
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9 yrs ago
If there are RPs/PM's I need to reply to- I am working on it, I'm a little overladen in life atm. I haven't forgotten about you :)
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Aaand back.
9 yrs ago
ALERT- I'm going AFK for a week, anyone that sees this on here, I won't be about to respond, this is to both 1x1s/RPs.
Bio
I've RP'd for the best part of over 14 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy- though I always come back!
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy- though I always come back!
Most Recent Posts
Hugo paced another lap around Albert Park, the car now feeling a little more like it read its trend in the corners, through entry and exit displaying its true form. After all, practice programmes were set up that way, and the data coming in now was a true test of the car after pre-season testing a few weeks back.
"Right, nice qualy run and we'll bring you in. Qualy run, Hugo, confirm?"
"Confirm." The Portuguese replied, crossing the start finish and giving it his all. The car at 90% felt ridiculous compared to Formula 2 machinery, and to think this was even slower still than the Ferrari he had done some light testing with. It was a strange feat that he had gone through the programme so far, and now here he was, at its sidelines- cast away. Out of money, he shouldn't have been here. And yet here he was, the talent he proved in F2 and the surrounding backing he had, well, what was left of it, backing him into a Formula One seat. On qualy pace, he was proving himself nicely- the car set up neatly complementing his style. He never had the absolute focus in qualy, it was something he was working on, a real thing he put a lot of time and effort into- his racepace and elbows out approach was what made him spicy more than his absolute pace, something Kasumi would likely have the better effort of him. Still, he could put in a competitive time, and with practice coming to an end, he had a few more scenarios to run.
---
With practice now over, the Portuguese clambered out of the white, green and red coloured machine, the end of Practice 3 now showing up Valkyrie's pace- it wasn't as bad as initially thought, but even Hugo knew it was going to still be tough. The big talking point on the paddock was the simple truth of an 11th team- they had to score more points than Williams or Haas, in order to get in for the prize money. Top 10 after all got a payout- and any less than that meant nada, which was effectively economical suicide for this young, fledgling team. It was why F1 never really had more than 10 yeams- but here Valkyrie was, a risk and a brave, bold one among many trying to survive. Taking on the teams that were established in the sport would be tough, but they had no option but to succeed, and no doubt the owners had put it all on black, taking on Hugo and Kasumi to deliver. Though Hugo knew he and Kasumi had talent, this was the big game. Up against Russell, Magnussen, Grojean, they were going to be stripped back and fighting hard against players that had been here at least a year, the latter two almost a decade. Oh yeah, that and Laurent Pascal, someone he wasn't going to want to come across in the pitlane...
Stil, stepping back, Ray had some helpful insights for him, Hugo thought to himself. Pointers on what FP 1, 2 and 3 sessions had yielded- the car was shit, the performance was worse than that of the Alpha Tauri due to the customer PU, the grip was good but only just better than Williams, making for a car that on delta, would score 18th on the grid in race conditions. Lot of work to do. But it was what it was. Handling the media had gone well, Hugo and Kasumi answering the questions well, responding in a PR-driven, reponsed measure that the team would need to give answers for. It all went well, and here they were, sitting in the lull before Qualifying here in Australia. And in that pit-box, Hugo was taking a moment to go over the data one more time, seeing Kasumi do the same.
"Hey up, you all good over there?" He asked, aware his team-mate was someone he talked to from time to time- while in his own bubble, he had a care for her, and even in spite of the more forced social media stuff, he could talk to her not as a rival, but as a friend.
"How you feeling, Kasumi? Caraho...I can't believe this is real. Here we are though...no great expectations of us. But we get into Q3, one of us....I think we're gonna be beers in, no?"
"Right, nice qualy run and we'll bring you in. Qualy run, Hugo, confirm?"
"Confirm." The Portuguese replied, crossing the start finish and giving it his all. The car at 90% felt ridiculous compared to Formula 2 machinery, and to think this was even slower still than the Ferrari he had done some light testing with. It was a strange feat that he had gone through the programme so far, and now here he was, at its sidelines- cast away. Out of money, he shouldn't have been here. And yet here he was, the talent he proved in F2 and the surrounding backing he had, well, what was left of it, backing him into a Formula One seat. On qualy pace, he was proving himself nicely- the car set up neatly complementing his style. He never had the absolute focus in qualy, it was something he was working on, a real thing he put a lot of time and effort into- his racepace and elbows out approach was what made him spicy more than his absolute pace, something Kasumi would likely have the better effort of him. Still, he could put in a competitive time, and with practice coming to an end, he had a few more scenarios to run.
---
With practice now over, the Portuguese clambered out of the white, green and red coloured machine, the end of Practice 3 now showing up Valkyrie's pace- it wasn't as bad as initially thought, but even Hugo knew it was going to still be tough. The big talking point on the paddock was the simple truth of an 11th team- they had to score more points than Williams or Haas, in order to get in for the prize money. Top 10 after all got a payout- and any less than that meant nada, which was effectively economical suicide for this young, fledgling team. It was why F1 never really had more than 10 yeams- but here Valkyrie was, a risk and a brave, bold one among many trying to survive. Taking on the teams that were established in the sport would be tough, but they had no option but to succeed, and no doubt the owners had put it all on black, taking on Hugo and Kasumi to deliver. Though Hugo knew he and Kasumi had talent, this was the big game. Up against Russell, Magnussen, Grojean, they were going to be stripped back and fighting hard against players that had been here at least a year, the latter two almost a decade. Oh yeah, that and Laurent Pascal, someone he wasn't going to want to come across in the pitlane...
Stil, stepping back, Ray had some helpful insights for him, Hugo thought to himself. Pointers on what FP 1, 2 and 3 sessions had yielded- the car was shit, the performance was worse than that of the Alpha Tauri due to the customer PU, the grip was good but only just better than Williams, making for a car that on delta, would score 18th on the grid in race conditions. Lot of work to do. But it was what it was. Handling the media had gone well, Hugo and Kasumi answering the questions well, responding in a PR-driven, reponsed measure that the team would need to give answers for. It all went well, and here they were, sitting in the lull before Qualifying here in Australia. And in that pit-box, Hugo was taking a moment to go over the data one more time, seeing Kasumi do the same.
"Hey up, you all good over there?" He asked, aware his team-mate was someone he talked to from time to time- while in his own bubble, he had a care for her, and even in spite of the more forced social media stuff, he could talk to her not as a rival, but as a friend.
"How you feeling, Kasumi? Caraho...I can't believe this is real. Here we are though...no great expectations of us. But we get into Q3, one of us....I think we're gonna be beers in, no?"
Tobias chuckled, sipping down a bit more coffee, agreeing with the Israeli's sentiment, giving a gentle nod to agree as he swallowed the boiling beverage.
"Yeah, I was gonna say, you cops do a lot of that...if we do more, that's something hey." The Cornishman commented, looking at his legs, then back at Gabby. He had to admit, this made for a welcome change from sitting in the office- even if it was a regular haunt, it was at least a change of pace, a change of scenery from the constant crap that was going on in there. Still, much as it was boring at times, it allowed them to do the work that they did, advanced as it was.
"I mean, it'd be easy to kerbstomp a perp with one of those things. Who needs kevlar when you've got several inches of titanium and composite plate, hah." He wryly chuckled, knowing that with Gabby's physique, it was hardly like you wanted to be on the other side of an arrest from her. That'd be an asskicking and a half, Tobias had to admit...though he was enough of a scamp in his younger days to know you didn't have to fight, you just had to run.
"But yeah...that kit...it's the only way I'm in work I guess. No chance I'm working any other security work with these legs. I'm just enjoying the ride while I'm here, I suppose. But I guess I'll find a way to land on my feet if I did end up out of work, right?" With that, he clacked his metal legs, and gave a shit-eating grin to the god-awful pun he'd just played, knowing he'd almost certainly get a sigh out of Gabby. While she likely did that, he sipped down the rest of his brew, clearing his throat as he looked back across to the HQ, across the far end of the car-park.
"And on that note...wanna get back? Now we might be done with this paperwork, we might get to go actually have some fun today." He retorted, wiping his stubbled face with the napkin he'd gotten with his coffee, wiping any marks from the coffee off his face.
"Yeah, I was gonna say, you cops do a lot of that...if we do more, that's something hey." The Cornishman commented, looking at his legs, then back at Gabby. He had to admit, this made for a welcome change from sitting in the office- even if it was a regular haunt, it was at least a change of pace, a change of scenery from the constant crap that was going on in there. Still, much as it was boring at times, it allowed them to do the work that they did, advanced as it was.
"I mean, it'd be easy to kerbstomp a perp with one of those things. Who needs kevlar when you've got several inches of titanium and composite plate, hah." He wryly chuckled, knowing that with Gabby's physique, it was hardly like you wanted to be on the other side of an arrest from her. That'd be an asskicking and a half, Tobias had to admit...though he was enough of a scamp in his younger days to know you didn't have to fight, you just had to run.
"But yeah...that kit...it's the only way I'm in work I guess. No chance I'm working any other security work with these legs. I'm just enjoying the ride while I'm here, I suppose. But I guess I'll find a way to land on my feet if I did end up out of work, right?" With that, he clacked his metal legs, and gave a shit-eating grin to the god-awful pun he'd just played, knowing he'd almost certainly get a sigh out of Gabby. While she likely did that, he sipped down the rest of his brew, clearing his throat as he looked back across to the HQ, across the far end of the car-park.
"And on that note...wanna get back? Now we might be done with this paperwork, we might get to go actually have some fun today." He retorted, wiping his stubbled face with the napkin he'd gotten with his coffee, wiping any marks from the coffee off his face.
Tobias rose his eyebrows, almost as if to comedic effect with her last sentence, holding back the chuckle.
"Holiday? What's that?" He sarcastically asked, chuckling as he gave his coffee a sip, a gentle one as it was still roastingly hot, as he concurred, knowing she had a point. They had seen some serious shit together, some very exotic places too- and while many of them were just cleaning out insergent attacks, sometimes it did amp up bigger than that. Tobias couldn't help but feel with all the different moves mercs were making, they were going to be kept busy, and flushed with cash as he turned back to Gabby.
"Yeah, I know how you're feeling. Time away from this would be pretty decent....anything wtih a decent riptide would work wonders." The Cornishman added in a resigned manner, sipping away before continuing.
"I suppose there's plenty of places they could send us, but the list seems to always change of late. I remember getting into a firefight with a bunch of mercs back when I was in Greenland running a security detail on a mine there. Without the armour, of course. Made me think....they can send us to some war-torn shitholes, but it's only a matter of time till we end up toe to toe with people who might actually be better trained, in places where there's shadow companies. You know, people who might actually mgiht be a serious threat..." Tobias added, sipping down a bit more coffee as he looked dead into Gabby's eyes, deadpan as he could be.
"Though mind you, that'd be a really fucking bad Monday for them when we turn up." He gave a wry chuckle, knowing sure, it was important not to downplay other people in their profession, it was worth remembering they might have had a bit of an ace up their sleeves.
Finishing up the donut and putting the paper wrapper back on the table, he gave another gentle swig at the coffee, Tobias leaning back as he checked over his phone quickly, skimming through the headlines and then looking back to Gabby.
"Shit, do you remember when we first ended up in this company? All fresh faced, unsure what we even signed up to....makes me wonder, going back to regular infantry work someday is going to be surreal. That is, if we ever do..."
"Holiday? What's that?" He sarcastically asked, chuckling as he gave his coffee a sip, a gentle one as it was still roastingly hot, as he concurred, knowing she had a point. They had seen some serious shit together, some very exotic places too- and while many of them were just cleaning out insergent attacks, sometimes it did amp up bigger than that. Tobias couldn't help but feel with all the different moves mercs were making, they were going to be kept busy, and flushed with cash as he turned back to Gabby.
"Yeah, I know how you're feeling. Time away from this would be pretty decent....anything wtih a decent riptide would work wonders." The Cornishman added in a resigned manner, sipping away before continuing.
"I suppose there's plenty of places they could send us, but the list seems to always change of late. I remember getting into a firefight with a bunch of mercs back when I was in Greenland running a security detail on a mine there. Without the armour, of course. Made me think....they can send us to some war-torn shitholes, but it's only a matter of time till we end up toe to toe with people who might actually be better trained, in places where there's shadow companies. You know, people who might actually mgiht be a serious threat..." Tobias added, sipping down a bit more coffee as he looked dead into Gabby's eyes, deadpan as he could be.
"Though mind you, that'd be a really fucking bad Monday for them when we turn up." He gave a wry chuckle, knowing sure, it was important not to downplay other people in their profession, it was worth remembering they might have had a bit of an ace up their sleeves.
Finishing up the donut and putting the paper wrapper back on the table, he gave another gentle swig at the coffee, Tobias leaning back as he checked over his phone quickly, skimming through the headlines and then looking back to Gabby.
"Shit, do you remember when we first ended up in this company? All fresh faced, unsure what we even signed up to....makes me wonder, going back to regular infantry work someday is going to be surreal. That is, if we ever do..."
Apologies on my delay there- been a little uncreative lately, but back on it now!
Hunkering down, Andrew set his spotting post next to Nolan, watching on as he readied his own rifle as a backup. Of course, Nolan was doing most of the shooting- he was an elite marksman, far better than Andrew was, though the Kiwi had a markman's brain to read and play out certain situations. As a spotter, it worked nicely to make sure that he watched the periphery, more than just down the rifle scope- though of course, joining in when he had to. Andrew knew Nolan's youth had exposed him heavily to the outdoors- he had an otherworldly sort of feel for it, but Andrew's mind was far more attached to the more human, anthropogenic planting on it. It was why they worked so well, perhaps- a sort of link that just clicked, and made them what they were.
"Good kills, Nolan. You don't need me much to snipe fuckers perfectly, huh....well, I'm here for moral support anyway." He chuckled, knowing there were plenty more to drop, but right now, they had to guide their man in on the ground.
"Copy, Osprey. Good work so far. Grab those last SPAAGs and get yourself off that airfield. Good timing, too. Task force isn't far gone. We are going to turn this place into a fucking fireworks show when they arrive." He called out, a wry chuckle at the carnage and fury they were going to cause something to admire. Placing that much explosives around the site would be something, as he adjusted his optic, looking down. The note to Markus was touching....and something in Andrew knew that those two had gone through a similar bond. Shit really hit the fan for them in Kosovo- a stark reminder that the forces they were up against had plenty of capability of their own, as he adjusted the spotting optic, looking to the side of the control tower.
"Osprey, if you've got any spare explosives left over, there's a fuel pump by the side of the control tower. Might have seen it, but if you haven't....chances are, you set that to leak and it'll blow the tank underneath the concrete with some explosives. Got two hostiles nearby. Me and Nolan can snipe them out." He called out, watching as the ghostly distant figure weaved around the airbase's parked SPAAGs, charges being laid, connected and ready to blast.
"Merlin, this is Cordite One, we're nearly done with the charges at the bottom. ETA ten till we should be all finished and ready to blast this one, over." Andrew called into his throat comms, aware that Merlin would be able to oversee the bigger picture and relay this to the other teams.
"Good copy, Cordite- Blackfish, Blue Sword, Knight, we are continuing as planned."
----
Back in the skies, Natalie chuckled as Victor described the paint, and all it entailed. Many couples were close of course, but being let into this, it felt....well, like a true connection. Real, mattering, even in spite of the insanity that this operation was going to be, and many of the ones they were on. Her facepaint if she ever wore it was simple- a lightening or a typical camo pattern, but an intricate pattern like this...it was an art form, an almost ritually empowering thing to have. She giggled at the thought of it being a "courtship"....it was a long way in for that.
"Heh, perhaps it could be that..I'll take that wisdom, Victor." She replied, letting him finish as she brushed her hair out from the side of her face, letting him get in and finish the last stroke. She pouted at him, letting him come close and kiss her intensely. She replied the same, consumed in the moment, holding him tight against her armour, deeply locked. She felt at ease, completely in the moment with him, and it was a feeling she couldn't describe. She saw him go to hell to drag her out of it- and no doubt she would do the same if she had to, no questions asked.
"Paint or no paint, wisest decision I made was you, Victor. Mon cherie....we should look tough for them though, I think. In a moment..." She whispered into his ears, giving no damn either, gently rubbing her painted cheek against his, shutting her eyes for a brief moment, lost in that second and then back to the world they were in. It was a strange one to be back in, but hey, she would make the most of it, as she checked the large minigun on her left hand side, belt pulled tight into it and the other elements of her loadout needing a brief check. As much as she wanted to be lost in Victor, there was work to be done, as she gave herself one more check over, from Athena's Wrath on her hilt to the harpoon on her left arm, to the twin Deagles she'd elected to go for. Tools of the trade for someone getting shot at on a regular basis, she thought to herself, standing in the wobbly V22's interior. With a thump on the metal, she walked over to Ross, Jenny and Carl, the herculean Russo-Franco gal getting back into the rhythm of carrying that large lump of spinny killy metal, helmet in left hand and minigun in right.
"How are you three all holding up? Game faces on?" She asked, Ross nodding as he gave a thumbs up, Jenny following the same.
"Yeah, all good. Are we still in the shadows, like, have we got no major international news on this anyone has reported?" Ross enquired, Natalie giving a wry shrug even through the armour in response.
"You haven't been taking pictures and sharing it on Facebook? Please tell me no..."
"Nope, not intending to, Bear."
"Please keep it that way- so far all good. The LZ is 15 minutes out, and we should be in for a fireworks show once those AA vehicles go up. Don't shit yourselves if we still take some ground fire- faster we get out of this bird, faster we can hit them and take back control." She dryly remarked, heading back for Victor, the fearsome size of her always staggering to see, her cold demeanour just a reminder of the focus, grit and resolve it took to keep a straight head in a situation as crazy as this. The hot zone was coming- and the firefight was going to be one of their toughest yet.
"Good kills, Nolan. You don't need me much to snipe fuckers perfectly, huh....well, I'm here for moral support anyway." He chuckled, knowing there were plenty more to drop, but right now, they had to guide their man in on the ground.
"Copy, Osprey. Good work so far. Grab those last SPAAGs and get yourself off that airfield. Good timing, too. Task force isn't far gone. We are going to turn this place into a fucking fireworks show when they arrive." He called out, a wry chuckle at the carnage and fury they were going to cause something to admire. Placing that much explosives around the site would be something, as he adjusted his optic, looking down. The note to Markus was touching....and something in Andrew knew that those two had gone through a similar bond. Shit really hit the fan for them in Kosovo- a stark reminder that the forces they were up against had plenty of capability of their own, as he adjusted the spotting optic, looking to the side of the control tower.
"Osprey, if you've got any spare explosives left over, there's a fuel pump by the side of the control tower. Might have seen it, but if you haven't....chances are, you set that to leak and it'll blow the tank underneath the concrete with some explosives. Got two hostiles nearby. Me and Nolan can snipe them out." He called out, watching as the ghostly distant figure weaved around the airbase's parked SPAAGs, charges being laid, connected and ready to blast.
"Merlin, this is Cordite One, we're nearly done with the charges at the bottom. ETA ten till we should be all finished and ready to blast this one, over." Andrew called into his throat comms, aware that Merlin would be able to oversee the bigger picture and relay this to the other teams.
"Good copy, Cordite- Blackfish, Blue Sword, Knight, we are continuing as planned."
----
Back in the skies, Natalie chuckled as Victor described the paint, and all it entailed. Many couples were close of course, but being let into this, it felt....well, like a true connection. Real, mattering, even in spite of the insanity that this operation was going to be, and many of the ones they were on. Her facepaint if she ever wore it was simple- a lightening or a typical camo pattern, but an intricate pattern like this...it was an art form, an almost ritually empowering thing to have. She giggled at the thought of it being a "courtship"....it was a long way in for that.
"Heh, perhaps it could be that..I'll take that wisdom, Victor." She replied, letting him finish as she brushed her hair out from the side of her face, letting him get in and finish the last stroke. She pouted at him, letting him come close and kiss her intensely. She replied the same, consumed in the moment, holding him tight against her armour, deeply locked. She felt at ease, completely in the moment with him, and it was a feeling she couldn't describe. She saw him go to hell to drag her out of it- and no doubt she would do the same if she had to, no questions asked.
"Paint or no paint, wisest decision I made was you, Victor. Mon cherie....we should look tough for them though, I think. In a moment..." She whispered into his ears, giving no damn either, gently rubbing her painted cheek against his, shutting her eyes for a brief moment, lost in that second and then back to the world they were in. It was a strange one to be back in, but hey, she would make the most of it, as she checked the large minigun on her left hand side, belt pulled tight into it and the other elements of her loadout needing a brief check. As much as she wanted to be lost in Victor, there was work to be done, as she gave herself one more check over, from Athena's Wrath on her hilt to the harpoon on her left arm, to the twin Deagles she'd elected to go for. Tools of the trade for someone getting shot at on a regular basis, she thought to herself, standing in the wobbly V22's interior. With a thump on the metal, she walked over to Ross, Jenny and Carl, the herculean Russo-Franco gal getting back into the rhythm of carrying that large lump of spinny killy metal, helmet in left hand and minigun in right.
"How are you three all holding up? Game faces on?" She asked, Ross nodding as he gave a thumbs up, Jenny following the same.
"Yeah, all good. Are we still in the shadows, like, have we got no major international news on this anyone has reported?" Ross enquired, Natalie giving a wry shrug even through the armour in response.
"You haven't been taking pictures and sharing it on Facebook? Please tell me no..."
"Nope, not intending to, Bear."
"Please keep it that way- so far all good. The LZ is 15 minutes out, and we should be in for a fireworks show once those AA vehicles go up. Don't shit yourselves if we still take some ground fire- faster we get out of this bird, faster we can hit them and take back control." She dryly remarked, heading back for Victor, the fearsome size of her always staggering to see, her cold demeanour just a reminder of the focus, grit and resolve it took to keep a straight head in a situation as crazy as this. The hot zone was coming- and the firefight was going to be one of their toughest yet.
Tobias chuckled, stepping aside and doing that awkward thing of standing not too far from the till, Gabby's grin reciprocated right back at her by the Cornishman.
"Yeah sure....I mean....this isn't exactly dawn over PNG, but I'll take it." He dryly replied with a small chuckle, watching as the barista got to work, before back to the Israeli-American, aware she certainly found this as dreary as he did. It felt monotone- he remembered himself how it felt, how it had been leaving Raven International, involuntarily of course. Getting the prosthetics, the months of physio and work it took to actually learn how to live again, like a functioning human being. Without the legs, he basically stood barely up to Gabby's hip, which was utterly, utterly surreal, right now of course being only a couple inches shorter due to the titanium lumps at the end of his stumps. He remembered how empty he had felt when he was jobless and out of the forces, literally without a leg to stand on, and coming to a place like this almost was a complete shock to his way of doing things. Perhaps the spartan way of living had taken over him from the forces- he couldn't function without the early starts and punishing regime, almost like it was a way of making sure his mind was always screwed on, fit to function. Observant, like the way a hawk would look at its surroundings relentlessly. Without purpose, it took a lot of fiber in him to remain on course- and while he knew Gabby did get it, she was an athlete, a copper, a special forces soldier who had that relentless conviction behind her, that change in his life felt like pulling the plug and rewiring up his head.
Even looking around, he could see it, the other office workers and builders, people who had no idea that him and Gabby were in the business of killing people in faraway lands so they could have stability of some kind. It was surreal, almost as if Tobias could almost tip over into that jaded side of him, but he was more than intelligent enough than to let him go that way. The truth was, it was a lesser evil what they did. And hey, it was cool as fuck...right? And on that melancholic note, the barista raised a hand and called out, the Cornishman motioning to go over.
"Thanks love." He commented, passing Gabby her hot chocolate and muffin, taking his brew and sugary donut after as he swiped his watch over the card machine, a satisfying bleep pinging across. With a gentle sigh, he picked out a group of seats by the window, walking over with a gentle clatter and taking a seat, exhaling as he gave it a moment for his caffiene rush to cool from its molten-hot state. Looking across, Tobias brushed a longish lock of his hair back a little, aware he didn't have that Israeli sass of his counterpart but more a surfer's vibe that perhaps was one of the few perks that came with private military work.
"Damn...what do you reckon, they gonna send us halfway across the world again? Seems sort of standard in our line of work...though I have to admit, it would be nicer to spend a bit more time somewhere. See the sights, actually appreciate the locals rather than you know....yeah." Tobias candidly remarked, gently sipping the coffee a bit in spite of how burningly hot it was, reclining back into his seat.
"Yeah sure....I mean....this isn't exactly dawn over PNG, but I'll take it." He dryly replied with a small chuckle, watching as the barista got to work, before back to the Israeli-American, aware she certainly found this as dreary as he did. It felt monotone- he remembered himself how it felt, how it had been leaving Raven International, involuntarily of course. Getting the prosthetics, the months of physio and work it took to actually learn how to live again, like a functioning human being. Without the legs, he basically stood barely up to Gabby's hip, which was utterly, utterly surreal, right now of course being only a couple inches shorter due to the titanium lumps at the end of his stumps. He remembered how empty he had felt when he was jobless and out of the forces, literally without a leg to stand on, and coming to a place like this almost was a complete shock to his way of doing things. Perhaps the spartan way of living had taken over him from the forces- he couldn't function without the early starts and punishing regime, almost like it was a way of making sure his mind was always screwed on, fit to function. Observant, like the way a hawk would look at its surroundings relentlessly. Without purpose, it took a lot of fiber in him to remain on course- and while he knew Gabby did get it, she was an athlete, a copper, a special forces soldier who had that relentless conviction behind her, that change in his life felt like pulling the plug and rewiring up his head.
Even looking around, he could see it, the other office workers and builders, people who had no idea that him and Gabby were in the business of killing people in faraway lands so they could have stability of some kind. It was surreal, almost as if Tobias could almost tip over into that jaded side of him, but he was more than intelligent enough than to let him go that way. The truth was, it was a lesser evil what they did. And hey, it was cool as fuck...right? And on that melancholic note, the barista raised a hand and called out, the Cornishman motioning to go over.
"Thanks love." He commented, passing Gabby her hot chocolate and muffin, taking his brew and sugary donut after as he swiped his watch over the card machine, a satisfying bleep pinging across. With a gentle sigh, he picked out a group of seats by the window, walking over with a gentle clatter and taking a seat, exhaling as he gave it a moment for his caffiene rush to cool from its molten-hot state. Looking across, Tobias brushed a longish lock of his hair back a little, aware he didn't have that Israeli sass of his counterpart but more a surfer's vibe that perhaps was one of the few perks that came with private military work.
"Damn...what do you reckon, they gonna send us halfway across the world again? Seems sort of standard in our line of work...though I have to admit, it would be nicer to spend a bit more time somewhere. See the sights, actually appreciate the locals rather than you know....yeah." Tobias candidly remarked, gently sipping the coffee a bit in spite of how burningly hot it was, reclining back into his seat.
Tobias chuckled, shrugging in response. It was true- they had a hell of a lot of boring shit to do, but then again, they needed the operators' input, what they could do and actually pull off when in a combat situation. Though they could do it a hell of a lot better than online forms and bits of paper....
"Yeah, I was thinking that...was it 5,000 rounds you fired, or 5,001? Shit, either way, that was a very tidy contract. I honestly think they make us do it for paperwork's sake." He added, stepping into the lift as it dinged on their floor. Walking inside, he waited on Gabby to come through, pushing the button for ground floor. He exhaled, leaning against the wall of the lift, looking across to the taller Israeli. In the confined space, lift chats always felt a little more higher tense than they were out in the "public" realm.
"No prizes to say that it's not gonna matter. I did see how much the mining firm paid us for it. It's a really peachy number. Solid seven figures, and that's without bonuses for how little collateral damage we caused. For thirty minutes work....I've never seen any margin like it in security work. This shit we use comes along leaps and bounds, there's no insergent that is gonna want to be in our way...it's gonna change the way security is done. For better or worse I suppose..." He added, a little thoughtful on that note as the elevator doors opened, the open plan office visible as Tobias led the way, adjusting his cuff as they walked towards the exit, the hum of the office quiet yet consistent, a place that felt eeriliy dry for a place that supported a pair of operators causing more carnage than a company of soldiers could. He gave a quick glance at his phone, checking for any messages or calls, before stepping out of the building, an inconspicous entry for what was such a complex facility. The business park come industrial estate was fairly plain, but the recognisable logo of a coffee branch across the road, the one that rhymed with "Lard Ducks" gave it at least an 8/10 from Tobias, at least in providing coffee. The overcast sky of Bracknell was what stopped it being a 9, but fuck it, caffiene was a necessity when you weren't being shot at or firing heavy weaponry back at people.
The queue was relatively short inside, as Tobias and Gabby got through to the counter, the Cornishman looking up to the Israeli with a certain reassurance, aware that some may have seen their partnership as a little odd, strange even in any office setting, let alone even a warzone. The cripple with the chiseled athlete in smart casual, what a sight to behold, but it worked somewhat. They bounced off each other, and well, she was the only person Tobias could really talk to properly about what they did in the context of the fighting they did.
"I'll cover this one, I owe you for last time." He said, the barista coming around.
"Hiya, yeah one latte and a jam donut, Gabby, yourself?" He asked, the Cornishman aware that tight as he was, a round was a round and it had to be paid homage.
"Yeah, I was thinking that...was it 5,000 rounds you fired, or 5,001? Shit, either way, that was a very tidy contract. I honestly think they make us do it for paperwork's sake." He added, stepping into the lift as it dinged on their floor. Walking inside, he waited on Gabby to come through, pushing the button for ground floor. He exhaled, leaning against the wall of the lift, looking across to the taller Israeli. In the confined space, lift chats always felt a little more higher tense than they were out in the "public" realm.
"No prizes to say that it's not gonna matter. I did see how much the mining firm paid us for it. It's a really peachy number. Solid seven figures, and that's without bonuses for how little collateral damage we caused. For thirty minutes work....I've never seen any margin like it in security work. This shit we use comes along leaps and bounds, there's no insergent that is gonna want to be in our way...it's gonna change the way security is done. For better or worse I suppose..." He added, a little thoughtful on that note as the elevator doors opened, the open plan office visible as Tobias led the way, adjusting his cuff as they walked towards the exit, the hum of the office quiet yet consistent, a place that felt eeriliy dry for a place that supported a pair of operators causing more carnage than a company of soldiers could. He gave a quick glance at his phone, checking for any messages or calls, before stepping out of the building, an inconspicous entry for what was such a complex facility. The business park come industrial estate was fairly plain, but the recognisable logo of a coffee branch across the road, the one that rhymed with "Lard Ducks" gave it at least an 8/10 from Tobias, at least in providing coffee. The overcast sky of Bracknell was what stopped it being a 9, but fuck it, caffiene was a necessity when you weren't being shot at or firing heavy weaponry back at people.
The queue was relatively short inside, as Tobias and Gabby got through to the counter, the Cornishman looking up to the Israeli with a certain reassurance, aware that some may have seen their partnership as a little odd, strange even in any office setting, let alone even a warzone. The cripple with the chiseled athlete in smart casual, what a sight to behold, but it worked somewhat. They bounced off each other, and well, she was the only person Tobias could really talk to properly about what they did in the context of the fighting they did.
"I'll cover this one, I owe you for last time." He said, the barista coming around.
"Hiya, yeah one latte and a jam donut, Gabby, yourself?" He asked, the Cornishman aware that tight as he was, a round was a round and it had to be paid homage.
Part Four: Party Mode
Melbourne, Australia
Hugo had certainly lit the F2 series up, as had Kasumi- and to now prove his skills in F1 machinery felt like a dream come true. This wasn't the simulator at Maranello, where he'd worked as a development driver- this was an actual machine that could go easily past 230mph on the straights, and induce neck-bracing Gs through corners. It was a fighter jet with wheels, and felt like it had the technology of one to boot. A modern Formula One car was an incredible piece of engineering, even Valkyrie's attempt was laden with CFD, wind tunnel and fluid dynamics testing at every contour and carbon composite piece, and it felt like it.
With FP1 and FP2 ahead, Hugo had followed Kasumi out, setting into the track at Albert Park and keeping a nice pace. Following a few diagnostics first- it wasn't alien, but in the white helmet with the red and maroon hexagonally-patterned trim and an orange visor, the Portuguese driver was certainly recognisable to his home fans, a pattern similar to the one he had back in Formula 2. The car's striking livery was as classic as the Gulf Oil livery to motorsports fans- a white Castrol livery with red and blue dovetails, with the title sponsor flanked by others such as BP, Sagres, Rockstar, and a handful of others that had dotted the American-based team's first attempt. It had to be said, such a classic livery just made it a magnet to anyone who loved motorsport, especially classic JGTC racing- the Supras and NSXes of old had a livery, and the Honda power unit sowed that nicely together. A crisp roar came from behind Hugo's firewall as he buffered brakes and took turn one at speed, the G-forces of the hard right and left pelting at his neck, the acceleration blistering as the car span a little on the exit kerb, throwing marbles aside.
"Okay, telemetry is looking very neat, let's set a nice race delta through the next few, and we'll pit you in three laps time with Kasumi. How are the tyres?" The British engineer asked, Ray Baldwin a bloke that Hugo trusted deeply even in spite of knowing him barely a few months now. He was from another team in the Banbury area, he couldn't remember which, but had a glut of knowledge and experience on the pitwall. So far, Hugo was in his element, focussed on the machinery's capabilities and not fucking it up.
"Tyre deg seems nice, heating seems inconsistent. Softs are not going to work as well in this weather if we've got this weather on Sunday!" Hugo communicated, the Portuguese braking into turn three and taking a fine line through, chuckling as he could only remind himself....this was Formula One.
Hey man, hope that's somewhere nice! I just got back (seems we're trading places!)- so I'll cook up something.
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