Sounds of clinking metal, revving engines and young ambitious voices pierce the darkness of Fuma's subconscious.

	[i]It was a dream? Again.. I've had that dream before. I think.[/i]

He sits up slowly, sore muscles dousing his nerve endings in an oddly pleasant wave of fire all the way down his back. This elicits a legendary groan from the back of his throat as he runs one hand through his orange hair. 

It's always cold here. The low, creaky infirmary cot is warm... But there was much to be done.
	
	Fuma stands after pulling on his boots, glancing at the digital clock that had been knocked to the concrete floor. Three hours ago he had collapsed on the cot, not entirely sure what part of the bustling rebel base in which he resides the welcome rest would come from. That's three hours more rest than usual, at any rate. His mask slowly regains it's signature features as he pulls on his weapons. It appears his armor never made it off, an urban style of Kevlar and blow-resistant matte plastic. It alludes to motorcycle gear, but without the pristine, fanciful aesthetic that the riders have. But I digress.
	
	He makes his way into the metal walled hall that leads straight to the astronomically huge hangar of the base. It's a small base, but effectively equipped and manned by a fearless personnel of which he was the young leader. Fuma checks the regular maintenance stations, and comes upon the weapons tech and artillery department. He claps the back of his main technician gratefully. 

	[color=f9ad81]"Thanks for holding down the fort. I needed the break."[/color]

Axel, the wiry looking technician grins widely, clearly running on pure caffeine.

	"Please, I get to have fun when you finally give up the ghost! You can be kind of a hard ass."

The obviously insane tech jests, but regains a more serious countenance. He knows of Fuma's torments, but always hesitates to ask.
Fuma breaks this silence by smiling widely as the most active radio control officer walks passed both of them. Her hair is a dark blue accompanied by lavish makeup, gothic bracelets, and a gothic twist on her uniform. She has her long thick hair in a ponytail, power bangs in the front, large hoop earrings and loud chewing gum. Her expression does not look welcoming.

	[color=f9ad81]"Well well if it isn't the lovely Radio. When are you gonna tell us your name eh? Lookin' good."[/color]

Radio slows her gait and whirls around to face him.

	[color=0072bc]"Not today Fuma, I'm busy. Besides, I'm way out of your league. Ding bat."[/color]

	[color=f9ad81]"Too mean Radio, you're so harsh. You know I'm just yanking your chain. Rai is the one who likes you so I have to make him squirm SOMEHOW."[/color]

She sighs and turns on her heel, regaining her long strides through the hangar. Fuma winks at Axel who already looks bored.

	"Fuma I don't understand how you manage to keep such a light attitude in this place. It really baffles me.. this abyss gets the best of even our older vets, but you continue to egg on whats left of our childhood spirits. What's the point? I could die today."

Fuma's mask looses it's playful expression as he looks out across the hangar at the lives that he is responsible for. His countenance is unreadable, a code full of information and yet inaccessible.


	[color=f9ad81]"Axel... You really think too much."[/color]