VashThat image makes me happy in ways that only Vash can understand.
And the best part is I'd completely forgotten that Grav's character loved chocolate.
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The weeks had gone by slowly after their last mission.
Little had gotten done, in the eyes of Bear. The others had trained, some had even taken up training the recruits. Alexander, however, had done little more than sit around and watch Dimitri work. "Claw", some of the recruits called him. Some of them just wouldn't ever get used to not calling them by squad names, even if Dimitri technically wasn't part of Eagle Claw. Alexander didn't think much of the men and women that the Enclave had brought in for training, and even less so of those that actually managed to get through whatever harsh training they had to go through. To him, none but the original squad were worthy of what it meant to be in Eagle Claw. Leinhart and Devon, they were exceptions. He respected them, as much as he hated to admit it.
The door to Dimitri's lab swung open, and in stepped Alexander. The normally braided beard was trimmed down, now a neat, short cut. It still covered the majority of his face, but he was told that now he looked more professional, and less like a tribal. His hair was still cut in the same, short fashion as usual, making him look more like a drill sergeant than an actual soldier. His boots smacked heavily on the ground as he entered the room, but the good professor kept his eyes - or whatever he had behind those lenses - firmly locked on the project at hand. Alexander peered over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes to see through the flying sparks. What laid on the table was a human shaped hunk of metal, coated with wires and circuitry. Dimitri's project, had been since Idaho.
Alexander had been a little side project, something to distract him when he wanted some down time. Not just the fact that Alexander could vaguely reminisce with him about the good old days, but for the fact that Alexander wanted a bit of an edge over the competition. Beneath the skin of his right arm, and most of his hand, wires and metal had been weaved into the flesh and around the bone, augmenting his strength and the steadiness of his hand. He was coming to Dimitri for a checkup, though nothing felt out of place. Wasn't even sore or tingly anymore, like it had been for weeks since he last worked on his arm. Alexander took a seat, and idly chatted for a while about everything and nothing. Dimitri listened, or ignored him, Alexander couldn't tell. The cyborg worked silently as the man talked. After about an hour, Alexander took his leave. Dimitri paused for a moment, gave him a wave, and went back to work. His only acknowledgement that he'd even known Alexander had been in the same room. This room may as well be Dimitri's own little world, for as much as he leaves it or even thinks about things beyond its walls.
Alexander entered the dining hall with Leinhart and Melanie, whom he'd met up with on the way, though he hardly spoke to them. They were both friendly enough - the latter of which seemed odd to him, as quiet and as suicidal as she had been before - but he wasn't much into exchanging pleasantries with anyone, even his sqaudmates. Not feeling too particularly hungry, he instead decided to indulge in one of his guilty pleasures: Hot chocolate. He wasn't sure what exactly it was, or where the Enclave got it, but it was absolutely delicious, and there wasn't anything that could keep him from it if he craved it. It was almost like he was addicted to a drug, if it were comparable. Once he had his mug, he made his way to the Eagle Claw table and sat, his weight shaking the table a little as he settled in. Not a word was said, only the gentle sipping of his chocolate.
It felt good to be privileged.
Little had gotten done, in the eyes of Bear. The others had trained, some had even taken up training the recruits. Alexander, however, had done little more than sit around and watch Dimitri work. "Claw", some of the recruits called him. Some of them just wouldn't ever get used to not calling them by squad names, even if Dimitri technically wasn't part of Eagle Claw. Alexander didn't think much of the men and women that the Enclave had brought in for training, and even less so of those that actually managed to get through whatever harsh training they had to go through. To him, none but the original squad were worthy of what it meant to be in Eagle Claw. Leinhart and Devon, they were exceptions. He respected them, as much as he hated to admit it.
The door to Dimitri's lab swung open, and in stepped Alexander. The normally braided beard was trimmed down, now a neat, short cut. It still covered the majority of his face, but he was told that now he looked more professional, and less like a tribal. His hair was still cut in the same, short fashion as usual, making him look more like a drill sergeant than an actual soldier. His boots smacked heavily on the ground as he entered the room, but the good professor kept his eyes - or whatever he had behind those lenses - firmly locked on the project at hand. Alexander peered over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes to see through the flying sparks. What laid on the table was a human shaped hunk of metal, coated with wires and circuitry. Dimitri's project, had been since Idaho.
Alexander had been a little side project, something to distract him when he wanted some down time. Not just the fact that Alexander could vaguely reminisce with him about the good old days, but for the fact that Alexander wanted a bit of an edge over the competition. Beneath the skin of his right arm, and most of his hand, wires and metal had been weaved into the flesh and around the bone, augmenting his strength and the steadiness of his hand. He was coming to Dimitri for a checkup, though nothing felt out of place. Wasn't even sore or tingly anymore, like it had been for weeks since he last worked on his arm. Alexander took a seat, and idly chatted for a while about everything and nothing. Dimitri listened, or ignored him, Alexander couldn't tell. The cyborg worked silently as the man talked. After about an hour, Alexander took his leave. Dimitri paused for a moment, gave him a wave, and went back to work. His only acknowledgement that he'd even known Alexander had been in the same room. This room may as well be Dimitri's own little world, for as much as he leaves it or even thinks about things beyond its walls.
Alexander entered the dining hall with Leinhart and Melanie, whom he'd met up with on the way, though he hardly spoke to them. They were both friendly enough - the latter of which seemed odd to him, as quiet and as suicidal as she had been before - but he wasn't much into exchanging pleasantries with anyone, even his sqaudmates. Not feeling too particularly hungry, he instead decided to indulge in one of his guilty pleasures: Hot chocolate. He wasn't sure what exactly it was, or where the Enclave got it, but it was absolutely delicious, and there wasn't anything that could keep him from it if he craved it. It was almost like he was addicted to a drug, if it were comparable. Once he had his mug, he made his way to the Eagle Claw table and sat, his weight shaking the table a little as he settled in. Not a word was said, only the gentle sipping of his chocolate.
It felt good to be privileged.
Banned because I'm 2blue4u.
Am working on post. Would have had it, but had to take a 2 hour break to do some of my mandatory driving.
Will be done soon.
Will be done soon.
Banned because I am a god.
Banned for arguing.
The purple-grey robes of a master magician blocked out most of Bruma's cold from Ana. None of her body, save for her neck and the lower part of her face, could be seen beneath the mass of fabric. Slung to her hip was a sword of Nordic make, just above a satchel that jingled and jangled with coins. It'd been a week since she'd gotten into the city, mostly on the fact that she wasn't part of the refugee rabble coming in from the south. As the days wore on and more and more civilians fleeing the terror in the south, she could only feel more and more pity for them. But, alone, there was nothing she could do for them. She wasn't rich, nor influential. She'd force Bruma's doors open if she didn't think it would just lead to the city falling into chaos.
It was on that day that she was ready to head south to the Imperial City and join up with one of the Legions. The Dominion, the Thalmor, whatever those damn elves wanted to call themselves, they'd pushed too far, cost too many humans their lives. And she was going to make sure that they knew the fear that the Stormcloak rebels knew. She might be older, but that only meant that her magic would be far more honed and deadly. The elves wouldn't know what hit them.
But it seemed that it was not to be, at least not for right now. As she headed towards the gate, ready to leave the northern cold for good, the massive doors opened wide. In came a procession of soldiers, legionnaires, lead by whom she presumed was the legate. Her eyes narrowed. What was a Legion doing this far north, when the Empire needed them down south? Deep inside, a burning anger was forming, but she suppressed it. She came to make nice with the legion and join back up, not insult their commander for heading in the wrong direction. If nothing else, it saved her the trouble of having to go to the Imperial City first.
As she headed towards the throng of soldiers and the occasional stray refugee that had managed to smuggle himself in with them, she could hear someone ask what was going on. An apt question, but for the moment, not appropriate to ask. Though, it did make her look closely. The men were tired, dreary, and looked like they'd seen the face of Dagon and lived to tell about it, but were not pleased with what they'd seen. Something bad had happened, worse than the elves. Or the elves had summoned up something great and terrible.
Sparks jumped around her fingers, a sign that she was becoming agitated. She hated playing the waiting game, but for now she'd need to just sit tight and wait for an opening to get in close to the man leading the soldiers. So, she merely followed up beside the soldiers, near the head of the procession, keeping a keen ear ready to listen to any bits of conversation to be had.
Banned because I'ma cut you.
Banned for quoting yourself in your sig.
Banned because of hedgehogs.
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