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It Keeps Happening; I TOLD you about the entropy bro!
Topic Started: Jul 11 2012, 07:50 PM (1,118 Views)
Velvien
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Although his head hurts from Jagd's manner of speech, Ragna chuckles. "Heh, thanks. You guys did a hell of a job, too. What was it, six normal people and Rusty taking out a Cauldron? Goddamn impressive, you ask me."

He frowns slightly as he recalls how cold Rust had been to Tsubaki. Ain't my business what's going on between them. She can handle it.
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Gleam
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Hannah nods distractedly. "Yeah, just hang onto that while I plug this bobbit in there." She replies, and switches in the new chassis, then hooks the wires up in the same order as Valkenhayn had attached them. "Epsilon, next time, you're going to give me a thorough course in how this stuff works, because otherwise I'm just going to whack it with a wrench until it works again, like all my other projects."

Siobhana nods, grateful, as she takes tiny sips of Jagd's canteen, wincing after each one. "Should you have chai tea, Valkenhayn, I would be most appreciative of a cuppa. Needs must, however. Do not rush on my account."

Jagd makes a noise in the back of his throat that might be a laugh, but otherwise doesn't comment. "Had surprise, air support, intel, supplies rom allies. Optimum conditions. Unprepared assault would end poorly. Prefer not to repeat. Still, work satisfactory." He nods. "Brute work largely done by Rust. Both Baur, Kingfisher, slain by Halford. Credit due."
Class. Dig it up, dust it off, hang that shit crooked on an ear. My halo's a land mine rind, amigo.

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LornMind
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Bigger Than A Breadbox
Epsilon stretches his neck and taps his reactors fondly. "Amazing," he says happily, "New chassis, no heat leakage, and best of all you didn't fuck up and fill my body with uncontrolled entropic energy. I didn't much fancy boiling." He grins appreciatively at Hannah and Valkenhayn and gives his wrist a quick glace. It was entirely blank; he tapped it once and words came into existence upon the glossy surface.

CONDITIONS NORMAL

"Alright, now that we're good to go on my end, let's get Isley fixed up. Jagd, you feelin' alright man? The nanites should have done most of their work by now, just take it easy for a day or so and you'll be shipshape. Might want to consider giving you some biodegradable stitches to quicken healing though..." He taps his chin and adds suddenly, "Oh, and Hannah, let me get back to you on the whole instruction manual thing. I haven't written one. Now might be a good time." He chuckles and asks, "Anyone got a sound recorder I can use? It'll be faster than typing..."
Edited by LornMind, Jul 23 2012, 05:41 AM.
When it comes to writing, I'm a zip gun in a prison; one-shot, one-trick, and I'm all you've got.
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Blue Warlord

"I may be able to procure one, Mister Lorenz." Valkenhayn responded, offering a small bow for his services. "Let us finish up here however, before pursuing frivolities. Your 'Manual' can wait, Miss Dunmainn cannot."

Somehow, despite seemingly being in the room at all times, a cup of chai tea somehow found it's way onto a saucer on a small table near Siobhana. Valkenhayn may have blurred slightly, but that was the only indication that anything had occurred. The smell of the Indian tea wafted, a hint of spice within it's murky depths.

Tea did not count as a frivolity, after all. Miss MacClatchley may not have been physically injured, but mentally exhausted. And there was no better cure than your favourite tea.

"Mr Lorenz, your diagnosis and treatment plan?"
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Velvien
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Ragna chuckles. "Shit, guy's come a long damn way, hasn't he? Still, good work...Jagd, was it?"

Fully patched up, Ragna stretches and stands up. "Well, great meeting you and all, but I gotta head out. Later."

With that, he limps out the door.
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Gleam
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Siobhana sips the tea and releases a grateful sigh. "Thank you, sir Valkenhayn." she says, pleased, and takes another sip.

A wave starts at Jagd's toes and rolls up his body, flexing every muscle in precise order as he tests out his own fitness again. "Below optimum but tolerable." he confirms. "Will maintain light labor conditions for next twenty-four hours to prevent excess strain. Isley's diagnosis?"

Hannah grins and leans back against her bench. "Well, if we're not doing the manual I'm catching some Z's. Medicine's over my head, y'all, and I'd prefer to stick with what I'm good at." Despite her joking manner, the shadows beneath her eyes are quick thick now.
Class. Dig it up, dust it off, hang that shit crooked on an ear. My halo's a land mine rind, amigo.

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LornMind
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Epsilon gives Isley a once-over and waves a hand before her eyes. Her responses are slow and confused. "Jagd was right about the bleeding. It's hemotoma. Fatal, without surgery. Fortunately, that's exactly what we're going to do. Get Isley to the operating room and on some local anesthetic-I need her awake if I'm gonna be fucking around in her skull." He sighs and suddenly snaps his fingers. "And get me a nice, thin sheet of titanium, along with a low-intensity blowtorch. I can mold a nice little skullcap out of it and slap it onto her skull before I pull the skin back over. It won't be perfect protection, but it'll be more than nature gave us, that's for sure."
When it comes to writing, I'm a zip gun in a prison; one-shot, one-trick, and I'm all you've got.
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