Avatar of Krayzikk

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7 yrs ago
Current You did good, McGregor. Made us proud.
4 likes
7 yrs ago
No offense intended. But there's a sweet spot on the sliding scale of realism, and most of the interest checks I usually see skew too far to the realism end for me.
2 likes
7 yrs ago
Can't describe how quickly I go from excited to sad when a mecha premise turns out to be realism wankery.

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"I'll be fine to drive," Athena's daughter confirmed to Jonas, midway through twisting the top off of a beer. Mot quite what he asked, but an accurate statement still. She could drink the whole pack herself and drive fine. Benefits of a godly affinity for driving. Not that she would. She didn't like beer that much. Or, for that matter, weed; so she politely shook her head at the girl offering joints. Dana had enough complaints about her clothes without them smelling like smoke. "I figure we'll toss the drunks in the truck bed. Someone threw up in my van last year. Took ages to clean out, so I left it home. At least if they do it in the bed it can just be hosed out."

She took a long sip from her bottle and scratched one of the Cerberus' heads absently, watching the proceedings for a few moments. Most of the people had no real investment for her, though she nodded her head at Kelsey in acknowledgement. Pleasantries exchanged, she didn't have anything else to say. Yet. Truthfully she was busy plotting. Jonas usually took security detail, but Dallas had given that duty to the CGBG on this particular evening. To her great displeasure. She was sure that Jonas could take a shift, the big guy was amiable enough and like any true scoundrel Relo had his price. He'd do her a favor with the right coercion. It was just a matter of what it'd take. So she chewed on that thought for a few minutes, steadily sipping away at her first drink.

Until the approach of one Ariana Mossos, blowing a kiss at the girl seated on a keg up behind her.

And her eyebrows went up, for a brief second, before her eyes narrowed. Ariana was a year younger, and the daughter of Aphrodite was vaguely on her radar. She went shopping with Dana from time to time, excursions Rebekah usually declined. Dana's haunts were too expensive for her bank account, and she was uncomfortable letting the Japanese girl spend so much money on her. But for the most part she was blissfully unaware of the.... girl's existence, as surely the daughter of Aphrodite was of hers.

Clearly, since she didn't so much as acknowledge her before proceeding to harass Highwind.

Rebekah didn't like that. Not one bit, she decided after a second. Her own apathy towards the girl's very existence was not an invitation to be ignored. Arrogance was typical of the Aphrodite breed, but this was a bridge too far to be tolerated. Gray eyes gave the girl a quick appraisal, lips pursing into something almost approaching a frown. Could she be laying the come-hither on much thicker? Jonas could take care of himself, that wasn't her concern, but...

Good Lord, someone needed to put this kid in her place.

"But if you want to hang out with your friends tonight, I can hang out with mine. We can both keep eye on things together."

"That's great, Dana-chan," Rebekah said brightly, pulling herself back up onto the bed of the truck with the hand not holding her drink and plopping down on her friend's lap. Her gaze swept, once more, over the daughter of Aphrodite. "I was getting worried Relo would keep you too busy to hang out with me. I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting your friend before. Care to introduce us?"
i am interested, i have a pixie gundam pilot that's rp died soon after starting that i would love to play again.


Rest in peace, Feddie Crew


"Hey, Jaime Lannister! You wanna fucking suck my dick, or what?"

Already?

A single leg appeared, barely visible, behind the cab of Jonas’ truck. Then it lowered and its opposite number went up. Then, very slowly, their owner started to prop herself up on her elbows.

With no room in the Subaru, and space at a premium in the cab, Rebekah had made herself a nook in the space between the subs and the cab, nestled amongst the various wires and cables. On a night so nice she preferred it, feeling the wind muss her hair and the speakers send rumblings through her very bones. Strange to call it peaceful but it was certainly contentment. The only thing missing was a pleasant sun overhead, but the moon’s borrowed light did just fine. It was still summer for a little while yet, warm enough to make the evening air refreshing and not too cool. Warm enough to swim, even, accounting for Rhea on lifeguard duty. Olympic swimmers were in more danger than anyone swimming with that girl on duty.

As long as she liked you.

Bekah had no such assignment (fortunate, for most she would let drown) and hadn’t since she assisted in wiring the speakers into the back of the truck. Dallas knew music, but technology was more her wheelhouse than his. Still less than it had been Zaheen’s, but wiring up speakers couldn’t be much easier. She’d even checked the connections on the way over, running grounded wire through her fingers as carefully as her own hair. Not as premium as they would have been in his own car, perhaps, but no one other than the children of Apollo would have ear enough to tell the difference. Or, as the son of the sun himself would put it, they were tasteless.

She shared a brief glance in the rearview mirror with her fellow freeloader while Relo gave out instructions, indulging in an absent shrug. About exactly what mutual matter, hard to tell. Perhaps it was their company. The Nyx children were a little… off, and the Dionysus girl was most certainly on her no-fly-list. The rest seemed alright, though. The ones she knew. As sure as gravity, they’d all begun to be drawn towards Dallas’ offerings of drink and music. Not that everyone seemed to have brought their own, as he’d instructed.

Honestly. It wasn’t like fake IDs were difficult, people. Well, maybe for some. But it wasn’t as though they presented a challenge. Or that there weren’t individuals on campus willing to furnish one, for money. Not that that was a proper business model, and would of course be illegal and nothing that she would ever condone. If anyone had ever thought to ask and perhaps dropped a little money nearby, well, that was perfectly innocent, wasn’t it?

Anyway.

She bristled, just a little, at the way the Artemis girl glanced towards the pickup bed when she mentioned pong. She had fussed over her little nook, and stashed her book and supplies there. The daughter of Athena would not tolerate its removal, but she knew Dallas would tolerate the speakers’ removal even less. So comment was unnecessary.

”Marston,” She said by way of greeting, leaned backwards around the cab to better see her compatriots. ”Good to see you.”

Rebekah didn’t see her brother anywhere, but she would be surprised if he didn’t attend. She’d yet to see him in person, and she felt remiss for the oversight. This would be a good opportunity to remedy that. Any thought of remaining in the truck bed ended when Dana was assigned to security, and thus would leave the top of the cab very shortly. So she slid her sandals back onto her feet and rolled dexterously over the side of the truck bed, allowing her spine to straighten to its proper length for the first time in… An hour, at least, judging by the series of pops. Comfortable curled though she was, a 4x4 was not suitable for prolonged rest. A quick rake and shake with her hands restored her hair’s form, too, though she’d have to pull it back if she felt like visiting the lake. A distinct possibility, which was why she’d worn her swimsuit underneath her shirt and shorts. Her sweater wasn’t quite ideal lake party attire.

Idly, she considered whether or not she would have to drive the truck back. Depended on how many Jonas had, she supposed. She reached back into her nook and withdrew a six pack, her personal stock and contribution to BYOB, perfectly legally obtained of course. She’d deposit a few in the first cooler she came by, and not care much if someone swiped one. She had more that she would keep for herself, and perhaps for friends.

”I’ll have as much fun as I please, Psomas,” She stated a touch severely, undercut both by the faint hints of a smile playing about the edges of her face and by the way she dropped to a knee to stroke each of the miniature Cerberus at her feet’s heads in turn. ”But I will try, as long as you promise not to drown me if I set foot in the water. That would be unfortunate.”

“Want a beer, Marcy? Anyone? Personal stock, one time offer, ask not the means of its acquisition.”


A lot happened at once It wasn't that hard to process for her.

"Good to see you too, Bonaparte."Marcy went in for the hug after a moment of hesitation, both things that amused the daughter of Athena. She let her go after a moment, and acknowledged Jonas' followup to her tap with a wry quirk of the mouth. "And you, Highwind."

"Relo."
She greeted, after a fashion. The human whirlwind had arrived, his sister in tow, and at this juncture didn't warrant more than a cursory hello. If she stayed out of his way, she could keep her peace. A little longer. Maybe. Potentially. ... Probably not. This was normal, now, until summer came again. But if she were truthful, something she would never admit out loud... She preferred this. She missed it when she was home. This mismatched, incongruous, baffling, bickering handful of people that she had come to enjoy. Or had come to enjoy her, in rare cases. Even more baffling. But welcome. "Any summer work you failed to do has to be in my mailbox by nine. Otherwise I start getting you Bs again."

That was a good enough greeting.

To her left, however, she could sense discontent. Quelled in large part by her brother, but present nevertheless. Rebekah absently bumped Dana's shoulder with her own and leaned a little, a light constant pressure. Anything else was delayed for a moment by the vibration of her phone. Her brother, by the faint tone that accompanied it. The only person on campus that could genuinely be called family by genetics, rather than choice. In a way? Genetics was a somewhat ambiguous area when it came to godly parents. But he was family regardless, even if it wasn't a clear cut matter. It would be good to visit a little, now that they were both back on campus.

<I think that half of these people will kill each other within a month, if they think they can get away with it. Or if they can't. Whoever designed these pairings picked names out of a hat. The other half will be sleeping with their roommate in the same span. This experiment is destined to implode.>

After a brief pause, thumb actually rising off of the screen, she sent a second message.

<I was fortunate. My best friend is my roommate. I hope you've been well over the summer, brother.>

Then she slipped the phone back into her pocket. Gray eyes flicked to her left, head cocked slightly in inquiry, though she actually directed her comments to the others.

"I could probably use a small loan from the Bank of Bonaparte at some point, Marcella. If it's not inconvenient. I'm sure Relo plans for us all to be busy tonight, though."


This was the part Hazel lived for.

It was frightening, of course. To stand toe to toe with creatures of such proportions, mythological in scale, was foolish in the extreme. It took a sort of madness to do that. She had seen them before, without the comfort of her Shrike. Been powerless before them. But she wasn't powerless now. It was the end of the world, but this? This was the duty for which Hazel was born, and she took to it with vigor. If it required madness to fight the kaiju then she was truly insane, and relished it for the chance to be part of something so astounding. Awe inspiring.

Her feet carried her easily towards the hangar, eager but calm amidst the chaos. She downed the remainder of her coffee and pawned the mug off on a random technician, along with her glasses. She was eager, and it showed in the silent gleam in her eyes. The grin on her face.

The Shrike was a thing of beauty, and she paused long enough to run her fingers over the nose-art emblazoned on its side at her insistence. Her grin widened a little as she took the last few steps up to the cockpit, and sank into the chair within. She felt at home immediately. The seat contoured to her form, the controls adjusted with precision to her reach. But there was no time to marvel, the threat was present now. So she began her preflight checks immediately. Engine, controls, weapons, the abbreviated list that she ran through in times of emergency.

And how could she forget, popping her mix of choice into the tape deck she had also insisted upon.

The opening notes intermingled with the roar of MAX FIRE v3 Etherion Engine, perhaps the second most powerful such power sources in existence, as both reverberated through her chest. She had worked for this. She had beaten out a dozen other contenders to command this very machine, even when sometimes they might have seemed like a better choice. One of the last to wash out, a pilot of the then-state-of-the-art Blackbird, had imparted to her a certain phrase when he left; "Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil for I am at eighty thousand feet and climbing."

The Shrike did not reach eighty thousand feet, and her pilot certainly was not safe.

But that was the thrill.

This powerful machine was not built to observe, it was built to attack. It was built to charge the enemy and rip it apart with its very body if that was required, and it was not built for the timid. The Shrike was built to blaze a path into hell itelf, and it demanded a pilot certifiable enough to do the job.

All things considered, Hazel probably counted.

"I've got the skies. Launching." A tinny voice stated in the ears of her comrades, an electronic acquiescence to the occasional necessity of auditory communication. To the young, tank-bound girl she sent some additional text to appear on her HUD; Take care, midget. Stay focused.

Then the roar intensified, lifting the Shrike from its position as the landing gear retracted. Maintenance technicians had been clearing her takeoff route from the moment her checks began, and it was unobstructed. The engine howled, propelling her through the upward facing tunnel dedicated to her machine. In seconds, she was in the wide open sky.

Actually reaching the combat zone did not take very long at all. And with an appropriately gleeful snarl on her face, she took the Doc's advice.

And fired an exploratory shot from her right cannon straight at the beast's neck.


"Alright."

Ben didn't like that at all, but that was the job. Rule three of Ben's rules to being the Cap; never let 'em know you're out of your depth. So he caught the look on Lauren's face and shot her a little wink, rolling his shoulders to limber up just that extra little bit. Gave him a second to run down the Commodore-spec's readouts, too. Make sure the others were showing up where he could see them. Nothing he could do to keep an eye on Jan, but he could keep track of just one by line of sight only. Everyone showed green. Everyone was prepped.

Time to roll.

"Alright. Lauren, you've got my back. Amy, anything tries to jump through that door, lead poisoning. You'll know before the rest of us. Sangue and Jan, be ready. We get in, we deal with anything nasty in there, we break whatever's blocking signals, and we go home."

Taking just a second to size the door up, Ben drew Joyous Guard back; despite its mass, it was very easy to move and that was the point. It hit with significantly more force than it took to swing it. So he targeted the hinges on one side, swung his shield, and was rewarded with metal splitting and shearing under the forces. No more hinges.

Then he drew back his boot and pushed the door in to drop flat against the ground inside, ready to draw back his shield if anything lunged out.


"Deal. Roomie."

The words slipped out from pursed lips, absent-minded if not for the singular intent behind every syllable. Nothing she said was ever absent. It was intentional, like the way she wrapped a sweater-clad arm around her companion's shoulders and squeezed for the briefest of instants. That, at least, was clearly intentional from the smile tugging at her lips and the way she made sure the garment lingered on her friend's shoulders just a liiittle longer than necessary.

Dana hated her secondhand sweaters. But it wasn't like Rebekah was made of money, now was she?

Well, Marcy was, though. Perhaps she could request a Venmo (pls) for her ride from the airport. Speaking of their other compatriots...

She stuffed the paper in her bag and peered around, to her side, over Dana's shoulder, and finally, with the crowds slightly parted, ahead and to the left. Rhea and Marcy were approaching Dallas and Jonas, the latter two caught in between the four girls. Bekah squeezed Dana's shoulder again and gestured with her chin, indicating where they needed to go. It was reassuring to know their motley crew would be in the same building. Even more so that her dearest friend would be her roommate. The idea of having to put up with someone else was almost enough to make her scowl right there.

But that had not come to pass, so she leisurely made her way over to the others. Jonas' pointed comment to Rhea made the smile tug at her lips once more, and while she decided not to challenge it overtly, she let a single knuckle bump between the Son of Ares' shoulderblades.

Dead.

"Slipping, Highwind."
She greeted laconically, only now relinquishing her light grip on her roommate. A single sidestep took her out from Jonas' shadow and into view of the others, quickly enough to catch the least and most of them slipping away to greet his sister. She hoped he hadn't been assigned any summer work. It'd be a pain doing it in a night.

She'd greet Dallas later.

Marcella and Rhea, on the other hand, were already there. It was good to see them again. Even if she hadn't entirely figured them both out. Technically she'd seen Marcella only half an hour ago, briefly, but she'd been relegated to the backseat. Not much time for chit chat.

"Marcella," She greeted again, holding open an arm in rare invitation of an amicable hug. Dana had been telling her she should be more friendly to her friends. "It's good to see you. And you, Psomas."
I'm curious. Count me in.


"They can't see us any better than we can see them."

Umeko surmised, much more comfortable now that she had verified that Brennan was mostly unharmed. She propped herself up a little on his chest, peering into the darkness. Her eyes were adjusting now that it had been a few moments, but it still wasn't easy to make out the bad guys. Still, in the crowd? They had no reason to pay more attention to her, either.

"I can take them. Quietly. One at a time. I'm much more worried about that bomb." She peered back down at him, almost as though hearing what he was thinking. "If you were going to put a bomb in this place, where would you put it?"

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