trans_9 | Joyriding (OPEN) (Possible language warning, it's Grif.)

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Joyriding (OPEN) (Possible language warning, it's Grif.)

The sensorium appears deserted. It's taken on the appearance of a box canyon, the ground mostly orange and dusty with some particularly stubborn grass eking out an existance. The hills are steep enough to cut off your view of anything distant, and the sky above is a blazingly clear blue. It's also very hot here. Very hot. The sun does not love this canyon.

Though there's no one around, a soft whirring becomes audible. Then it turns into the full engine-whine of a warthog jeep as one comes flying up one of the hills, catching air off the top. There's a man in orange armor at the wheel, yelling.

"WHOO! YEAH!"

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Deciding that it would be best to try get Grif and Tex talking without hostiles, Doc would have to find Grif first. As he searched the sensorium he noticed the image of a box canyon, specifically Blood Gulch. As he began walking, he heard the engine of a jeep. Spying Grif, he waved.

"Hi Grif!"

The warthog skids to a stop. Grif wishes fervently that Simmons were here on tail gun.

"Oh hell no, not you again!" he complains. "What do you want?!"

Tex has popped into the sensorium for two reasons, namely:

1. She's bored.
2. There is a long-standing tradition of Red abuse that must be continued, largely because of #1.

Tex blips in on that all-too-familiar ridge near Blue base and automatically looks up at the sound of that familiar whirr, and watches for a few moments, sighing. Shaking her head, she yells down, "YOU HAVE A SENSORIUM THAT COULD MAKE ANYTHING, AND YOU MAKE BLOOD GULCH?!"

Once she catches sight of Doc as well she starts making her way down the ridge, heading in their direction.

After hearing Tex's tirade, maybe the truce wouldn't happen today... Though he did wonder out of all the places Grif could think up, why Blood Gulch?

"Er, hi Tex. I just thought I'd check out the Sensorium. I've heard so much about it."

"Shit. You're here too?"

Tex is a lot more worrisome than Doc. Tex can actually hurt him, and is known to do so readily.

Grif himself isn't entirely sure why he decided on Blood Gulch, though it might have to do with the awesome hills for ramping off of. It's familiar, and even though he honestly hates this canyon it's more comforting than the ship.

"It wasn't so bad until you two showed up," he snaps, a little defensively. "What does a guy gotta do to get some peace around here?"

"Here and solid." She sounds rather pleased about the latter. She glances to Doc, shrugging. "This is it. It'll come up with pretty much anything you ask for. Even if it's weird."

That last part is said while looking at you, Grif.

"Peace? I'd say huddle in a corner and don't do anything to piss off the tentacles or the rest of the crew. Good luck with that."

Putting some thoughts away, Doc turned to Grif. "Grif, you're part of the crew. That means you have to take orders just like everyone else. Or else bad things happen to people here."

"Fuck you, Tex," he says and then moves on without missing a beat.

"What?" he looks at Doc. "Have you been talking to Samus or something? I didn't volunteer for this. And I don't care. I am not getting bossed around by a bunch of people that don't know me and will probably get me killed."

His slacking, you see, is also partially practical.

"You did it back in Blood Gulch," Tex snaps back. "Only difference is? I think we actually have competent people this time."

Doc just sighed. He knew this wasn't easy for anyone but... "Grif, none of us volunteered to be here. We just are. We'll have to make the most of this place but your attitude doesn't help things."

After a moment of things Doc asked. "Who's Samus anyway?"

"I don't have to help anybody if I don't want to," says Grif stubbornly. "Nobody ever said I had to help people."

He's just going to zoom in on that point and avoid the bigger issue at hand, that's how he rolls.

"Samus? You don't know her? Lucky you. She's a bitch."

"I like her," Tex puts in. "She punched Grif. I can get behind that."

Doc frowned. "Why, exactly did she punch you? Was this the same injury I saw you with earlier?" He knew from experience with Red and Blue teams that Grif did something to set her off.

"Because she's a bitch," says Grif. He's not going to admit that it was his fault for provoking her anyway.

"And yeah. She gave me a black eye. See why I don't like her?"

"And see why I do?" Tex sounds downright cheerful. "He called her Sweetchecks," she adds to Doc.

Samus has no life outside of hogging the Sensoriums to train. However, if it is already occupied when she enters, she usually leaves quietly and lets the occupant be.

That is when the user isn't Grif and he's doing absolutely nothing productive.

"Grif."

Grif sees her and debates with himself for a few seconds as he approaches the point of no return for either swinging the warthog around or driving onward. He decides, reluctantly, that pissed off Samus is about as bad as pissed off Sarge and that he should avoid bringing that down on himself.

He sighs and turns the wheel, hauling the warthog around and returning to stop relatively near Samus.

"What?" he asks resentfully. Stupid Samus ruining his fun.

"What are you doing?" Never mind that she knows what he's doing, also never mind the fact that what he's doing looks quite fun and she wouldn't mind getting her own whatever Grif was driving and taking it for a spin--

Snap out of it Samus! This is no time for fun!

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replies. He's probably not going to like her answer, and knows full well he probably would've fared better pulling some excuse that resembles work out of the air. But he can't help it, it's wiseass reflex.

Unlike Samus, Grif is all about fun.

"It looks like you're wasting time." Oh, Samus... When will you learn that it's okay to lighten up ~~when sober~~ every once in a while? She does, however, still want to know what he really is doing.

"I'm... practicing." That's right. He manages to cover for it.

He was just practicing it. And enjoying it. And seeing if he could make a landing off Red Base's roof.

Grif? Practicing?

"Practicing what?"

"My driving. You know, something I can actually do?" As opposed to getting shot at by aliens and thrown around by a space spider.

"If you're already good at it, perhaps you should make it more challenging." Like, changing the course so you have to drive while getting shot at by aliens and avoiding space spiders.

"Why would I want to do that?" He sounds surprised. Though really he's not.

"I don't feel like it. I'm trying to do something that I enjoy so I don't have to think about this shit for a little bit. You gonna come in here and ruin that?"

"To improve." She really wants Grif (and the rest of the team) to succeed, she's just doesn't always go about it the best way.

"I'm not trying to ruin it." She's trying to help you, Grif!

"Yes. Yes you are. With this "improving" crap."

He's holding his ground here. "You sound like a teacher or something."

The eyeroll is nearly audible.

"Grif." She sounds stern. Calm down, Samus. Deep breaths.

"It's my responsibility to make sure you don't get killed on missions. That can't happen if you goof off all the time." She'd much rather leave him on the ship whenever they had to go on missions, but she didn't think that was an option. Helping Grif was the next best thing, she supposes, even if she doesn't like it. Grif was her responsibility now.

Grif's quiet for a moment as he thinks about that.

"Can't you just leave me on the ship?" he offers, speaking what they're both thinking. Grif doesn't like the ship much, but it has to be better than whatever ungodly horrors await him planetside.

She thinks for a moment, remaining quiet.

"I don't know," she speaks more quietly and less authoritative than before. It had crossed her mind, but she hadn't considered it as a serious option. She'd have to find out soon.

"I don't intend to if I don't have to, however." She speaks more loudly, confidence back in her voice. She still had faith that she could make Grif into something a little more impressive as a soldier.

It had nothing to do with the fact that she wanted to prove that she could lead a team to Chief, no not at all.

Grif isn't sure he wants to have a man made out of him. Not right now, anyway.

"Okay. But do you have to come in here and bother me about it right now? I'm kind of..."

He gestures meaningfully to the warthog.

Underneath her helmet, Samus is giving Grif an 'are-you-serious-we-need-to-train' sort of look. Only for a moment, though. She sighs a defeated sigh.

"If it is that important to you, you may finish." She pauses, "However, you have to meet me in the Sensoriums soon, so we can work on your training."

Bargaining! Samus is getting soft.

Grif sighs heavily. He doesn't like training, it usually hurts.

"Comm ring me then," he says, defeated. "Just not right now. I'm... busy."

"Fine. I'll leave you to your practicing then," and she does leave, quickly enough. Her power suit dissolves around her and she's out the door.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Very suddenly, there's insane cackling bouncing off the canyon walls, loud and clear; and then a tank rolls into sight-
-and starts shooting at Grif's jeep. Nowhere close to hitting; Blitzwing is making sure of that. Doesn't want to be on the receiving end of another tentacle-zap, that's for sure.

"SHIT!"

Grif doesn't know that this is a member of the crew. Or that the tank is not actively trying to kill him. Heck, in his mind it's entirely possible that the tank has nobody at the wheel and is acting of its own will. Stuff like that happens where he's from.

Grif floors it, swerving along the canyon floor in the Warthog and doing his damnedest to reach the relative safety of Red Base.

Random giggles like a maniac and speeds up, taking the rough terrain in stride as he chases after the Warthog like a dog after a hare, shooting erratically at the vehicle.
Eventually he tires of this, and fires up his engines as he transforms-this time into a jet.
Icy wrestles control from Random and takes over, going into a controlled divebomb whilst still peppering the area around the racing jeep.

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Joyriding (OPEN) (Possible language warning, it's Grif.)

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in lieu of an actual tank-mode icon.

Re: in lieu of an actual tank-mode icon.

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