Noreille d'Amélie
The bright sun hang at the zenith of the cloudless blue sky, showering its warming beams of light onto the open space outside the city, where a demonstration was held to purge the looming concerns over the attack a month ago. The weather was fine, the participants mostly eager to demonstrate their power and influence, and it seemed that the better part of the citizenry was enjoying the scenery and the makeshift market as well. The protagonists of the show, however, was definitely the Mobile Suits, enormous humanoid fighting machines that had become the heart of warfare for probably at least a century. Their imposing bodies, as well as the collection of massive weapons they possessed, embodied their role as both platforms of destruction and protection alike.
However, all of these would be little more than an expensive pile of durable alloy and volatile particles if they were not miraculously pieced together and controlled as single beings. For centuries since the first battle wagon broke down in the mist of battle, maintenance and, by extension logistics, had been as important as the weapons themselves, and here was where the maintenance crew came in. As part of the defence force of the city, the maintenance crew made its appearance in the demonstration as well. However, with few exceptions, most of their works were centred around repairing and maintaining all these humanoid fighters in workable condition, for anyone who allowed them to do so. Among them was Noreille D'amélie, a young female pilot and mechanic. While her colleagues ran around among the people to keep the show from (literally) falling apart, she decided to focus mostly on the Mobile Suit of her own: the Étoile Tombante.
Painted in the dark azure blue of royalty of the old days, it was a medium-to-long range support Mobile Suit, a glorified battery, as some said. Its light-absorbing painting gave it a decent protection against unwanted light reflection, and its large beam rifle, as well as the even larger cannon backpack proved to be quite practical when dealing with most enemies it would encounter—after all, showering the enemy with high-power artillery and beam weapon without worrying counter-attack worked very well for millennia of human history, and it still hold true even in the age where humans wandered between planets and moons, bringing warfare with them.
After another routine maintenance of her reliable metallic guardian, Noreille hopped on the small scaffold attached onto a crane nearby, and delivered her down onto the ground. Putting her humble mechanic jumpsuit aside, she was now wearing her simple blue gown, one that demonstrated her supposedly blue blood without hampering movement or—when accidents happen, which it probably would—piloting of her Mobile Suit. It had a relatively high hemline, relying on her knee-socks, gown gloves and a small mantle to cover the rest of her tanned skin. Then, after working for the better half of the morning, she decided to take a short walk around the carnival for a much-needed break.
After a few steps, though, a ball of burger wrapping flew right before her eyes, before landing just short of the trash can nearby. With a short sigh, she bent herself over to pick up the litter, wrapping it tighter and threw it into the rubbish bin. Then, she turned around to see if the one nearly missed her was still around.