Not that happy with it, but I was bored.
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- Harbringer 11 yrs ago
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9 yrs ago
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Why is ecology so dry...
Bio
20 year old skinny asian living in Australia. Nothing much to say really. Despiser of the YOLO generation. Acts more like a crochety old man.
Has two dogs. Pets them a lot and applies the same logic to humans too.
Most Recent Posts
Not that happy with it, but I was bored.
<Snipped quote by Pumirya>
Try living in the tropics. Eternal summer. None of that 24 degress Centigrade crap either. We can easily hit 38 degrees here.
Speaking of which, I'll be dealing with exams for this week. I'll post a reply when I can.
Australia. Period.
As will I. You've hooked me, now reel me in.
...I may be using fishing puns because of the guy above me...
...I may be using fishing puns because of the guy above me...
(Looks at Uni schedule)
2 more weeks...then Exam time...
2 more weeks...then Exam time...
@Penultimate_Pi
Oh cool. Cheers. Looks great!
Oh cool. Cheers. Looks great!
I did the thing with the words!
Mumbling in his sleep as he lay on his side, Gerard was unceremoniously thrown against the wall of his bunk before collapsing back down into the rock hard slab face first, pushing his head into the pillow which still faintly smelled of a certain female. After that, he was thrown clear of his bunk onto the floor where he groaned in pain. Swearing violently in French, he curled up into a ball before stumbling to his feet, still in his underclothes. "What the bloody hell!? Merde!" he shouted as he cradled his elbow. A second later, the alarm blared before being punctuated by the cold metallic voice of the onboard comms telling them to get to their battlestations. Military training immediately kicked in as stagged towards his bed and dived into his flight suit. They said a Frenchman could strip naked in less than 3 seconds. The opposite was close enough as he zipped up the flight suit in 5 seconds despite groaning slightly in pain. He had hit that wall pretty hard. As an afterthought, he reached under his bunk and pulled out a glinting silver object before stashing it away inside his suit. Adrenaline kicked in as he followed after Trapp with purposeful steps, clearing the bunkroom and rounding the corner.
Breaking into a run as Trapp went to go rouse the other half of the squad, Gerard was one of the first to arrive in the hangar. Bounding up to Lark, he found that the engineers were on edge. "What the bloody hell was that?!" Lark asked no-one in particular as he brushed himself off, inspecting a fresh burn scar on his arm, "Weren't we in hyperspace!?"
"I do not know, monsieur, but I need to ask you if we are combat worthy," Gerard replied professionally as he inspected his MAS. It wasn't a pretty sight. The debris that had punctured his left pectoral region had been removed and sealed, a fresh armor plate having been bolted then welded on, the blooms obvious as well as the gunmetal colour in stark contrast to the white of the rest of the MAS. Or it would have been if the majority of the paint had not been stripped off by heat. The lower left flank still had traces of the frantic stabbing of the Coalition pilot, obviously having been seen as less of a priority, with the left arm having just barely been welded shut, gaps still evident in the armor plating, as well as the red cherry glow. "I'd estimate the efficiency of your left arm at 75%" Lark mentioned as he wheeled a ladder into place, allowing Gerard to nimbly mount the MAS, "it's not fully repaired yet so go easy on it."
"I do not think I will have such a choice," Gerard said grimly as he flipped his hatch down. One by one, systems booted up, accompanied by a dull hum as the core powered up. He felt the Marauder gain height as it stood straight. As a test, he flexed his left arm, finding the response slower than usual. He would have to deal with it. Leaning over, he grasped another lever, causing the MAS to bend down and pick up the Scattergun which had just been repaired. Racking it, he took a step forward and let the magnets lock him down. "Guillotine is online, Odin," Gerard replied as their leader's message rang in the cabin, "proceeding to launch bay." As the ground lamps lit up, Gerard braced himself, the catapults seeming more hasty than usual as they flung him into deep space. Engaging the reverse thrusters, Gerard joined Maki and Trapp in a defensive formation, his scattergun braced across his chest.
As Maki's message played into the cockpit, Gerard hummed. "I have not read of any such cases before..." Gerard replied quietly, "but whatever it is, I will put my finest wine on that creature over there having something to do with it." Pointing the barrel of his scattergun at the gleaming white MAS, he growled thoughtfully, "I have never seen anything like that...and it matches nothing in the UEE database..." With his fingers rapidly cycling through the onboard encyclopedia, he tried to find a description. "A custom model perhaps?"
Breaking into a run as Trapp went to go rouse the other half of the squad, Gerard was one of the first to arrive in the hangar. Bounding up to Lark, he found that the engineers were on edge. "What the bloody hell was that?!" Lark asked no-one in particular as he brushed himself off, inspecting a fresh burn scar on his arm, "Weren't we in hyperspace!?"
"I do not know, monsieur, but I need to ask you if we are combat worthy," Gerard replied professionally as he inspected his MAS. It wasn't a pretty sight. The debris that had punctured his left pectoral region had been removed and sealed, a fresh armor plate having been bolted then welded on, the blooms obvious as well as the gunmetal colour in stark contrast to the white of the rest of the MAS. Or it would have been if the majority of the paint had not been stripped off by heat. The lower left flank still had traces of the frantic stabbing of the Coalition pilot, obviously having been seen as less of a priority, with the left arm having just barely been welded shut, gaps still evident in the armor plating, as well as the red cherry glow. "I'd estimate the efficiency of your left arm at 75%" Lark mentioned as he wheeled a ladder into place, allowing Gerard to nimbly mount the MAS, "it's not fully repaired yet so go easy on it."
"I do not think I will have such a choice," Gerard said grimly as he flipped his hatch down. One by one, systems booted up, accompanied by a dull hum as the core powered up. He felt the Marauder gain height as it stood straight. As a test, he flexed his left arm, finding the response slower than usual. He would have to deal with it. Leaning over, he grasped another lever, causing the MAS to bend down and pick up the Scattergun which had just been repaired. Racking it, he took a step forward and let the magnets lock him down. "Guillotine is online, Odin," Gerard replied as their leader's message rang in the cabin, "proceeding to launch bay." As the ground lamps lit up, Gerard braced himself, the catapults seeming more hasty than usual as they flung him into deep space. Engaging the reverse thrusters, Gerard joined Maki and Trapp in a defensive formation, his scattergun braced across his chest.
As Maki's message played into the cockpit, Gerard hummed. "I have not read of any such cases before..." Gerard replied quietly, "but whatever it is, I will put my finest wine on that creature over there having something to do with it." Pointing the barrel of his scattergun at the gleaming white MAS, he growled thoughtfully, "I have never seen anything like that...and it matches nothing in the UEE database..." With his fingers rapidly cycling through the onboard encyclopedia, he tried to find a description. "A custom model perhaps?"
Watching as the soldier collapsed to the floor, clutching at his wound, Archibald narrowed his eye. 'Good...Strike back against those who have wronged you...make them suffer...' whispered a voice in his head, causing him to gasp in pain as he clutched at the right side of his face. "Now...is not the time!" he forced through gritted teeth as his hand clenched the bow hard, the other pressing down on his hair over the eye he had screwed shut. Shaking his head, his hair parted momentarily, revealing a flash of white. Whether it be a mask or talisman, no-one except him knew. And he intended to keep it that way. Suppressing his inner demons as he leaned against a wall, Archibald grabbed another arrow from his quiver and nocked it onto the string. Taking a step forward as he brought the bow up, he narrowed his eye again.
Focussing in front of him, sounds became duller as he ignored his environment, steadying his aim. His arm shook and he was visibly sweating. 'Spill their blood...' whispered the voice again, almost lovingly, 'an eye...for an eye...' Gritting his teeth again, his vision swam in and out of focus. The wyvern in front of him struggled as the axe-wielder jumped in, making a clear shot hard. The red and dirty white fletching of his arrow whistled faintly in a passing breeze as a scream was cut short. The wyvern darted in front of him again as his eye narrowed further. 'Take the shot...I care not where the blood spills from...' With each passing second, the voice grew more malevolent. The old wood of his bow creaked as he tugged the string tighter, resting it against his thumb against his cheek. The wyvern darted past again. With a thundrous crash, the fighter was struck with lighting, but that was not all. Startled, Archibald released the arrow, his eye widened as it flexed against the air pressure before soaring straight and true.
Focussing in front of him, sounds became duller as he ignored his environment, steadying his aim. His arm shook and he was visibly sweating. 'Spill their blood...' whispered the voice again, almost lovingly, 'an eye...for an eye...' Gritting his teeth again, his vision swam in and out of focus. The wyvern in front of him struggled as the axe-wielder jumped in, making a clear shot hard. The red and dirty white fletching of his arrow whistled faintly in a passing breeze as a scream was cut short. The wyvern darted in front of him again as his eye narrowed further. 'Take the shot...I care not where the blood spills from...' With each passing second, the voice grew more malevolent. The old wood of his bow creaked as he tugged the string tighter, resting it against his thumb against his cheek. The wyvern darted past again. With a thundrous crash, the fighter was struck with lighting, but that was not all. Startled, Archibald released the arrow, his eye widened as it flexed against the air pressure before soaring straight and true.
Here's a link to the squares used if you want to make something prettier. XD http://i.imgur.com/WkVC2Ce.png
(Looks around)
Sigh...I'll get on it.
<Snipped quote by Kimiyosis>
Well I called you a banana. It's a euphemism for Asians who have no idea of their own cultural roots. Because yellow on the outside but white on the inside. xD
@Harbringer I had no idea. If you mentioned it, I must have forgotten or not seen the post.
<Snipped quote by PrincessOfNothing>
I Googled this for a translation and got a lot of social activism articles linked back o.O
In response to what you asked about what the Japanese I posted meant, I called Har a goody-two-shoes :D
Id type in Chinese but im on my phone. Go to hell you curmudgeony bludgeon
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