[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/CllpOun.png[/img][/center]

Inside the cockpit of the quirky experimental GM, one particularly bold Newtype coquette had removed his helmet and pushed back his long mop of obsidian hair, revealing the two stripes of electric blue he had dyed underneath his bangs. Dallas Grenier breathed one long exhale into the crook of his elbow before cracking open the sanctuary that was his cockpit and making his way down. Another Federation pilot had lined up right alongside him, and was standing in front of the Metal Spider.

She had a bun in her hair. And buns in...

[color=6ecff6][i]Ah, mon Dieu.[/i]

[i]Quelle jolie derrière.[/i][/color]

Dallas sidled up alongside the stoic special ops pilot as though he'd known her all his life, and casually rested his elbow on one of her no-doubt-in-need-of-unknotting shoulders. He was smiling in the direction of the Zeonic mobile suits cheerfully. 

[color=6ecff6]"I've been distracted,"[/color] the solicitous French whore said cheerfully. [color=6ecff6]"But I'm sure I could spare a look or two as soon as I've been properly ensured of the honor of those assembled! I mean, not that I'm not comfortable with a ceasefire. It's just that I'm not accustomed to hearing them called ten seconds after ferocious [i]Sieg Zeons,[/i] eh? It gives me whiplash. My poor neck..."[/color]