Entry tags:
( video )
[ cortana in the background, her little form trying to move things around in her tiny little room. there’s a moment where she looks at a torso, raises an eyebrow and tells someone to get talking. ]
You don’t have to show your face. [small arms crossing before making a movement with her fingers for him to turn the camera away from her and back to him.] You have a very nice torso, I’m sure they’ll get the idea.
[ and then the nice torso starts actually talking: ]
Fine.
[ he murmurs it quickly as he straightens the video out. his hands keeping the feed pointed towards his chest and the pieces of armor that they have settled into the room just beside him. the most important parts (the ones they can’t afford to lose). the armor is his best weapon--but it requires skilled hands, diagnostics, patch ups. but in the end, he’d rather keep what he has to himself. on the downlow. it’s easier this way, but at the same time, frustrating. his voice is a bit gruff. ]
I’m looking for a suit technician. Preferably one from between the stardates of 2517 and 2557. I can be flexible if necessary. Give or take a couple of decades… maybe a century or two.
[ the beat that follows confesses something along the lines of “i just wear the suit, i don’t do much else with it.” not to mention, he’s never actually taken it off of his own volition.
cortana’s voice springs in, clear as a bell and chief can be heard letting out a sigh (relief, maybe?) ]
We’re also looking for something that can easily move 900+ pounds of armor. Preferably in a cargo bay with lots of room for maneuvering, and high powered tools. Not that I don’t mind making the Master Chief put his back into it, but it would make it easier for the both of us if I didn’t spend a few centuries trying to get things bolted down.
[ it’s only with a sharp, small elbow to the rib that he closes: ]
Chief and Cortana. Out.
You don’t have to show your face. [small arms crossing before making a movement with her fingers for him to turn the camera away from her and back to him.] You have a very nice torso, I’m sure they’ll get the idea.
[ and then the nice torso starts actually talking: ]
Fine.
[ he murmurs it quickly as he straightens the video out. his hands keeping the feed pointed towards his chest and the pieces of armor that they have settled into the room just beside him. the most important parts (the ones they can’t afford to lose). the armor is his best weapon--but it requires skilled hands, diagnostics, patch ups. but in the end, he’d rather keep what he has to himself. on the downlow. it’s easier this way, but at the same time, frustrating. his voice is a bit gruff. ]
I’m looking for a suit technician. Preferably one from between the stardates of 2517 and 2557. I can be flexible if necessary. Give or take a couple of decades… maybe a century or two.
[ the beat that follows confesses something along the lines of “i just wear the suit, i don’t do much else with it.” not to mention, he’s never actually taken it off of his own volition.
cortana’s voice springs in, clear as a bell and chief can be heard letting out a sigh (relief, maybe?) ]
We’re also looking for something that can easily move 900+ pounds of armor. Preferably in a cargo bay with lots of room for maneuvering, and high powered tools. Not that I don’t mind making the Master Chief put his back into it, but it would make it easier for the both of us if I didn’t spend a few centuries trying to get things bolted down.
[ it’s only with a sharp, small elbow to the rib that he closes: ]
Chief and Cortana. Out.
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