prettycoolguy: (Default)
John-117 (The Master Chief) ([personal profile] prettycoolguy) wrote in [community profile] trans_92010-04-08 02:02 pm

[open]

Everybody has to eat, even super serious Spartan-II's.

The Chief's in the mess hall, sitting by himself and working his way through a ration of tasteless nutrient mush while working on something on his omnicomm. The Chief's never been one to really take refuge in the sensoriums to make food taste better, he's gotten used to it and doesn't even think about it much.

He's not unaware of what's going on around him, but he has most of the comings and goings of the room basically tuned out.

This means someone should bother him, y/n?

power armor buddies y/n? XD

[identity profile] eswat-109.livejournal.com 2010-04-08 07:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"Then you should talk to me!" Now that she'd adjusted somewhat, Deunan's fundamentally cheerful personality was reasserting itself. Cheerful, and at times, incredibly annoying.

Like the Chief, she ate the nutrient sludge because one had to, and when the decision was between the Sensoriums and eating alone, and the mess hall and likely finding company, she came down on the side of socializing over taste.

o/\o

[identity profile] eswat-109.livejournal.com 2010-04-08 08:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Frankly, Deunan hadn't considered that, and it threw her for a second. In her experience, conversations either happened organically, or she got told to shut up. "About where I can get my armor back." If you can't recover gracefully, recover quickly.

Neither his height nor his scarring bothered her. She'd spent her entire life around soldiers of one description or another, and big and battle-scarred came with the territory. Hell, her boyfriend was nine feet tall, so covered in scars the doctors had given up and made him into a cyborg, and he was the biggest pushover in the multiverse, at least where Deunan was concerned.

[identity profile] eswat-109.livejournal.com 2010-04-08 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, it's powered," she said, studying his suit and helmet. They looked vaguely familiar, in the sense that there were only so many ways to armor the human body, but it wasn't a design she could place. "The K-2 Garthim, if that means anything to you. ...I mean, I'll wear the Orc, but I'd really rather not."

[identity profile] eswat-109.livejournal.com 2010-04-08 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)
"Great! I was about ready to set this thing--" Deunan indicated the plant suit "--on fire." The pulsing was driving her batty. It would fade into the background of her awareness, only to shoot to the forefront again when she shifted position or noticed something so weird it reminded her of where she was again.

"A mech? Uh, is that like a landmate?" she asked, guessing at the term. If Deunan couldn't get her Guges, she was going to throw a hell of a sulk.

[identity profile] eswat-109.livejournal.com 2010-04-09 12:32 am (UTC)(link)
"They're powersuits. Reinforced exoskeletons. The Guges is nine, 10 feet tall, I guess? ...Uh, about three meters," she clarified, wondering how many universes were on the metric system.

[identity profile] eswat-109.livejournal.com 2010-04-09 02:09 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, I guess I don't need the Guges day-to-day..." Deunan made the admission as though it were physically painful. Taking away her landmate was like taking away a gearhead's 'Vette--nothing but tears.

"The Garthim's more like what you're wearing, so that should be okay." It had better be, because otherwise Briareos was going to be dealing with one hell of a snit.

[identity profile] eswat-109.livejournal.com 2010-04-09 08:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Your computer isn't behaving very well," Deunan grumbled into her mush. She was pretty sure one out-of-control centralized AI was a lifetime quota, and she'd already met hers.

[identity profile] eswat-109.livejournal.com 2010-04-11 12:15 am (UTC)(link)
"You've tried to hit the hardware, right?" From Deunan's perspective, software and hacking were black magic, but hardware you could smash. Or deal with more delicately if you had the time--but mostly smash.