Hawlin — Roleplayer Guild

I rubbed my face as I followed the two. I couldn't imagine the purpose for the grinder; it seemed cruel and excessive...and I'm glad I couldn't taste, per se. What use would it have other than to brutalize something as an example, or was that the point? If so, my questions went to the designing staff. They of they Faith may be dogs in peoples' clothing, but rabid dogs get put down, not butchered.
I shook the thought, a strange smell of rotting meat being lightly simulated as I had accidentally started daydreaming while following the two. I pressed the mask to my face with one hand and a sigh as I slung the bags over my shoulder with my free hand. Getting a headstart, I pulled up a layout of our barracks...and doublechecking to make sure I had the right floor. Separate rooms?
My vitals peaked for a moment as my concern was alleviated; we were nightmares, but I was still overly cautious of my appearance. Still, I doubt the servicewomen were entitled to such privacy. No sooner had we entered the barracks then did Sir Cade 'claim' one of the rooms for himself. There was enough rooms, so I saw no harm in hotpatching the subnote for one of the rooms to show up as 'Kess's Quarters'. I watched as Cade trundled off to his respective room which mine sat coincidentally next to. There weren't that many, maybe four or five, but then again, how many nightmares did it take to form a squad? We were each at least fifteen men strong in our own right, with modifications capable to have the eyes and ears of almost as many. I didn't know how the others ate...or in my case, if they ate, but if we proved effective, we could easily replace the cost of raising, training and outfitting a platoon. With our number of 3, we could move with hundredths less of a risk and strike with ten times the force at unsuspecting points.

From a military standpoint, we were a nightmare.
I guess it took me until now as I set my bags on the floor and threw my body onto the bed that I did reflect on the name. The comforts of the bedding were lost to me, although from how my gyroscopic rebalance read, I could tell the bed must be quite comfortable...at least more so than the glorified cots that I had frequented not even a year ago. Stable, at least...I ignored the statistics of impact resistance and optimal falling height to rely upon the padding for a safe landing.

~~~~~

They sighed, digging out an alarm clock and haphazardly tossing it onto the floor next to the bed, dumping the bag to the other side to conclude 'unpacking'. The bag otherwise contained flavored mask filters, two spare sets of clothes depending on the situation and a large attaché case which supposedly held the components of their weapon.

I stood resolute as the mob petered out, realizing that they could only get away with what there were no witnesses to. None of them counted, the many would only pervert the words of the few, if left to their devices. One of them watched me as they walked off...for what...hrmm
~~~~~~
The otherwise refined frame of the nightmare operative whirred strangely as they reached up to their mask. "Hm?" The commented, the soldier hesitating as 'Kess' pulled their mask off. "Like what you see~?" she coos; their face turned away from the other two as what looked like plates of their face flew to the sides in a cross split. A violent sheering and grinding noise sending a few sparks in their direction causing them to stumble and utter an audiable "Holy- oh geez-!" before running off ahead of the others, slightly, steeling glances back, once. The face plates snap back into place.
~~~~~~
On that note, I close my recording log I had been taking of the event before signing and submitting it to editing in the time it took for me to turn to face the one who would be-

The Late Halavan Jack [+]

"John Faceur..." My tone laced with an ill-deserved familiarity, having never been formally acquainted as I extended a hand to shake, replying while taking off my mask, "I imagine I have quite a bit of thanks to give you, then, vote winner. The records have me as Halavan Jack. I go by 'Kess', now..." I say, I had spent quantities of time during my recovery reading my profile; Detailing the damage leading to a 93% reconstruction of my self. Taking a look at my squad mates, I figured it was a standard of being a nightmare.
A bit here and there, and I bet they may look human...heh...

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The Jaded

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