[h2][center] Oswald Connoly- Armory [/center][/h2]

"Revolver, to be specific, but I'd prefer a handgun, even if it ends up being humorously over-sized to accommodate a 20mm round. I figured a 3-round cylinder would be the most realistic thing to go with, considering that a .500 already drops you down to a fiver." Giving Gren a wicked smile as they began to plot how to create these blessed weapons, Oswald almost let a frown slip through when Anna came. Right, he remembered seeing more blonde hair than usual this morning. 

'How's the blonde in the uniform doing today?' 

'You mean Krysanthe? Legs for days.' Did...did Gren not notice? Holy shit, Gren didn't notice. Your dedication to the art of murder will be appreciated, you glorious fucking psycho. 

"That's to be expected, but if possible, I'd rather limit the battery life of the shield rather than it's power, though I understand that doing so might cause some issues with the unit itself. I'm hoping to use it for either area defense or to stop overwhelming attacks. Like, say, an anti-aircraft cannon getting shot at you when you're down to a third of your Aura." 

Oddly specific scenario that made his entire side ache just at the very thought of it aside, Oswald nodded. "Hi, Emm. Hi, Anna. We're working on developing a few weapons that will hopefully allow us to prevent something like last Friday from ever happening again. If we ever come across more psychos like that...we need to be prepared. We can't get caught off guard again if we want to stay in this business for very long." He ignored Anna's complaining. She was more manageable when you didn't give in to her flirting, he'd gathered. She'd give up eventually, she had to. 

Right? 

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