[color=khaki][u][b][h2]Jingo Strange[/h2][/b][/u][/color]


A sudden jerk knocked Jingo out of his delusion and off of his feet, the train slowed down with shrill, metallic screech as the wheels locked and the rails drained the train of it's momentum. Jingo fell flat on his bottom, sliding along the floor until he came to a sudden halt against the wall. Before he knew it Skitters followed suit, careening across the floor and plowing into downed cripple with extreme force. Jingo's face went through a myriad of expressions and contortions, had he had a full stomach the contents would have most likely painted the floor, his face settled on an expression, one of excruciating pain.

"[color=khaki]G- Fu- Nnnn- gaahhhhhhhhh![/color]" the dog leapt off of Strange in alarm, backing up to give the man some space. He clutched his bruised belly and gasped for breath, falling down onto his side and writhing in pain, "[color=khaki]Mother Fucker, that her' loik a bitch![/color]" he cried out, making Skitters back away a little and shake in fear. Jingo wallowed in his pain for a few more moments, before letting out a long sigh and looking up at the robotic hound, "[color=khaki]It's olrigh' Sk'ers oi'm foin.[/color]" Jingo rose to his feet and inhaled sharply, getting up to a crouch before lighten himself up to his full height. He looked down at his abdomen and let out a frustrated groan; quickly turning a plum purple, a bruise the shape of the top of Skitter's head stood out against his white skin, "[color=khaki]This'll take more then a coop of bleach te wash ou' thas ver sure.[/color]"

Jingo limped to his cot, Skitters trotting by his side with his eyes on his master, not paying attention to where he was walking he bummed his snout against the bottom cot and jumped back in shock. Bemused, Jingo snorted and reached up to his own cot, pulling down his duffle bag and rummaging around for his wrinkled shirt. He shrugged on the garment, giving it a firm tug with his clasper to get some of the creases out. From the cot next door he heard the muted sound of a person breathing, so had Skitters who stood on his hind legs to peer into the bunk. Inside was woman who looked completely absorbed in a Virtual Reality Headset, Jingo felt didn't want to be the woman to break the girl out of her immersion but she would never take that thing off her head if he didn't tell her. He reached forward with his prosthetic arm and gave her shoulder a gentle tap with the curved side of his pinchers.

"[color=Khaki]Excuse me lass, we've errived at our por' of call.[/color]" He decided not to stick around and shock the poor girl, not wanting her to see his face when she took the helmet off. Jingo hefted his bag over his shoulder and promptly removed himself from the carriage, hoping down on to the platform with his dog at his heels. Outside, or rather in the cavernous train station, he was assaulted by the sounds and sights of a bustling cargo terminal; and then he was assaulted form his right.

"[color=lavender]Our zombie scotsman has returned![/color]" The jumpsuit clad Gwenda clung onto him like a bramble, crushing him in her vice like grip. Jingo yelped in discomfort as she crushed herself against his bruised abdomen and patted her back awkwardly as he tried to squirm his way out of her grip. "[color=lavender]And you've brought a doggie![/color]" She crouched down and took Skitter's face into her hands, "[color=lavender]And it's a robot too![/color]" She squealed in delight and Jingo wheezed in pain, arching his back to try and alleviate his pain. 

"[color=Khaki]If only ye were as feminine in yer hugs as you were around me dog..[/color]" he grumbled before his usual chipper expression returned to him, "[color=khaki]How have ye been dear, haven't missed me too much I hope.[/color]" Gwneda looked up at him and gave him a smile and Jingo returned it with a smirk, "[color=khaki]Thas a good look for ye, down on yer knees.[/color]" Gwenda's cheeks flushed scarlet at his comment and he was about to laugh too when he felt an arm go around his head, jerking him into a headlock. 

"[color=mediumaquamarine]No one talks to my sister like that, not even my favorite Scotsman![/color]" Victor gave Jingo's neck a good squeeze and laughed warmheartedly before a wrench fell on his shoulder, "[color=mediumaquamarine]Ouch! What the fuck was that for?![/color]" Gwenda raised the wrench up again, waggling it menacing at her brother.

"[color=lavender]No one headlocks my favorite Scotsman![/color]"

"[color=khaki]Stop foiting![/color]" Jingo yelled out from under Victor's armpit "[color=Khaki]And can ye let go of my fuckin' head ye degenerate?![/color]" Vic did as he was told, releasing Jingo with little argument, he cupped his neck and rubbed it gently in his hand, soothing it from it's recent assault. Jingo felt a pickle in the back of his nose and his eyes bulged as his hand mad a fist around his wind pipe; he released a massive sneeze and his hand spasmed and clenched, strangling himself. "[color=Khaki]Fuck this flu!!![/color]" he cried out in frustration. After wrapping up his hellos with a quick and excruciatingly painful group hug, Jingo finally turned his attention to the huddle of prospective NC pilots that swarmed Alvarez. He walked over calmly enough and waved to the man, "[color=khaki]Alvarez, pen me down as here![/color]"