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trans_92010-01-14 11:01 pm
browncoatdevil.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92010-01-14 11:01 pm
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Ain't No Rest for the Wicked [open]
Gwen hadn't slept much at all since waking up on the ship. Two days straight was enough, or Stacy had told her, though the red head could have kept right on sleeping if the ship hadn't kept waking her. Not that it made much of a difference now that she kept herself from trying to sleep much at all. Nightmares still came regardless of when she closed her eyes. The previous nights hadn't been the best of the worst either- images of being stuck in the Alliance prisoner of war camp filtered in mixed with battles that would have been fit for a horror movie. So packing up her pistol belt the woman made her way up to the observation deck knowing the tables were big enough for what she had in mind.
Which was why the Browncoat had one fully assembled pistol sitting to her left, her KA-Bar beside of it, and one pistol in front of her disassembled down to the very last spring and screw. It had been a while since she had cleaned the things let alone taken them entirely apart and checking every little piece for signs of rust. Maybe she was being a little to over the top with the cleaning and how detailed oriented she was being but, well, someone had to be right?
Squinting down at the piece in her hand the woman didn't even seem to notice she even had her tongue sticking out as she scrubbed away at the piece with an oiled rag. By the time she finished with the pistol, it was probably going to be the cleanest if not the shiniest weapon on the ship.
Which was why the Browncoat had one fully assembled pistol sitting to her left, her KA-Bar beside of it, and one pistol in front of her disassembled down to the very last spring and screw. It had been a while since she had cleaned the things let alone taken them entirely apart and checking every little piece for signs of rust. Maybe she was being a little to over the top with the cleaning and how detailed oriented she was being but, well, someone had to be right?
Squinting down at the piece in her hand the woman didn't even seem to notice she even had her tongue sticking out as she scrubbed away at the piece with an oiled rag. By the time she finished with the pistol, it was probably going to be the cleanest if not the shiniest weapon on the ship.