[He grins at her words, offers her a smart little salute. She's a tough one, that's for sure. He'd pegged her rank about right, anyhow; not quite disciplined and honed and hard (yet the understanding and possibility of empathy) enough of a Commander rank or that of an Admiral. She's well respected and one of the top of her rank. The word Gemenon means shit to him but when she asks about his colony there's a split second of a flinch, barely readable beneath his jaded, cracked mouth (in spirit and flesh split and smeared with blood). He hadn't gotten that question lately.
(Just WHO ARE YOU and WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR and WHAT ARE YOU FIGHTING FOR? The hard hitting questions but he hit right the fuck back, with either a slice of Deathscythe's blade or the crack of gunfire) Should he break his motto and lie? It'd be simple to connect the dots, connect his name to the church but...but it's a lie. But on the other hand she hasn't mentioned anything about Gundams yet or the Alliance...and there's really no reason to trust this woman or her crew that beat and damn near tortured him to get information but. But-]
I'm from L2. I did more running than bein' claimed, really. [His mouth slants with edges of broken glass and clingy ghosts.] God? The only god we can rely on nowadays is the God of Death.
[Him. And just like that, providing nothing else, he goes right back to his meal. He works the fork in his mouth for a couple of seconds, mulling over divulging more info and finally decides:]
I'm a mechanic, a damn good one, but I highly doubt you'll let me prove it. No biggie, it's smart. [He shrugs those slim shoulders; he got caught because he got sloppy, out there in the dark and empty silence of space, too much time to think, too much time isolated. Stealth is normally his forte. Instead he says-]
Figured it'd be better to get caught and possibly get a meal than starve and die out there alone. Chief? Hey, I've got a lot to offer! Good cheer, quick hands, plenty of pep. You just haven't hit the right high notes yet. [He winces and actually chuckles hollowly] Phrasing.
this might be poop.....but i also kinda like? idk
[He grins at her words, offers her a smart little salute. She's a tough one, that's for sure. He'd pegged her rank about right, anyhow; not quite disciplined and honed and hard (yet the understanding and possibility of empathy) enough of a Commander rank or that of an Admiral. She's well respected and one of the top of her rank. The word Gemenon means shit to him but when she asks about his colony there's a split second of a flinch, barely readable beneath his jaded, cracked mouth (in spirit and flesh split and smeared with blood). He hadn't gotten that question lately.
(Just WHO ARE YOU and WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR and WHAT ARE YOU FIGHTING FOR? The hard hitting questions but he hit right the fuck back, with either a slice of Deathscythe's blade or the crack of gunfire) Should he break his motto and lie? It'd be simple to connect the dots, connect his name to the church but...but it's a lie. But on the other hand she hasn't mentioned anything about Gundams yet or the Alliance...and there's really no reason to trust this woman or her crew that beat and damn near tortured him to get information but. But-]
I'm from L2. I did more running than bein' claimed, really. [His mouth slants with edges of broken glass and clingy ghosts.] God? The only god we can rely on nowadays is the God of Death.
[Him. And just like that, providing nothing else, he goes right back to his meal. He works the fork in his mouth for a couple of seconds, mulling over divulging more info and finally decides:]
I'm a mechanic, a damn good one, but I highly doubt you'll let me prove it. No biggie, it's smart. [He shrugs those slim shoulders; he got caught because he got sloppy, out there in the dark and empty silence of space, too much time to think, too much time isolated. Stealth is normally his forte. Instead he says-]
Figured it'd be better to get caught and possibly get a meal than starve and die out there alone. Chief? Hey, I've got a lot to offer! Good cheer, quick hands, plenty of pep. You just haven't hit the right high notes yet. [He winces and actually chuckles hollowly] Phrasing.