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    Bad John
    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1224
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Location : A box in the United States.

    Airbrushed. Empty Airbrushed.

    Post  Bad John on August 5th 2013, 10:43 am

    An admittedly odd one shot piece. Something I decided to write on the car trip home.

    The new suits of armor were breathtaking. Five in total, they stood on large pedestals of metal, silent, empty guardians, fully assembled for inspection.

    Linda was first in line. This was her first true Dr. Bailey original suit, so she pushed past Maura and Jorge to see it. "...Breathtaking." She recognized her helmet immediately. A custom built variant, that appeared to be stuck between the limbo of Mk. V and Mk VI. It was strong and tall as her, with a striking red visor. The fists of the armor were clenched, and there were no finger guards on the gloves, something she'd complained about a year before. Her numbers, 058, were carved in the chestplate. Her suit, designated the EurekaGreen, was built for her, the top combat agent of the Freelancers.

    Lucy admired hers. It had been fully colored and crafted with her in mind. Her armor, the FloraSight Mk IV, stood boldly before her. It was completely unpainted, as of yet. Lucy removed the helmet from the suit's shoulders, admiring the craftsmanship of her CQB helmet.

    Maura's eyes burned with delight. The AutumnRed was her second skin. She often felt naked without it. The arm was built to fully syncopate with her combat prosthetic arm. Her custom built Rogue helmet was made especially for close quarters and explosive resistance.

    Jorge admired his suit, thumping the chest. He'd spent years in his own modified, standard Mjolnir. Now, with his HorizonReach, named for his planet, he had a suit that was made with him in mind. Redundant armor plating, a strong, old-school Grenadier helmet, mixed with the comfort and speed of Gen II, and the lighter, stronger metal that Dr. Bailey mixed herself.

    Nine stood back from his armor, playing with his daughter, Iola. She clung to his arm, kicking her legs. She was astonishingly strong, for a child. Nine pulled her onto his shoulders, and she drummed on his head, repeatedly striking his wool knit hat.

    He stepped forwards. His armor, unpainted, was just as "him" as he was. Powerful, sleek design reminded him of a sportscar. He caressed the Recruit gauntlet with one hand. He admired the armor's heavily customized leg and chest parts. His chestpate had a straight, neat pair of scars, mirroring the state of his old suit when it was comitted to the Ganymedian Museum. His hardlight shield generator was built into the base of his spine, and he could see subtle, powerful cables linking it to his left arm and the base of his helmet. There were two knife holsters, one on his lower back, and one on his left shoulder. The helmet itself was EVA, the version built by Dr. Lazlo to honor his now perished son. A metal bar (U.A. system) reinforced the visor, protecting it like the rollcage of a car. His OverArrow Mk VIII was practically asking him when his next fight was.

    All of the suits were sans color, standing in proud a proud, cold, gunmetal hue. Bailey wheeled her chair in, breaking the Spartan's focus on their suits.

    "WELL, time to paint them!" Bailey smiled. "This time, I'm using a special ceramic titanium based dye. It won't just paint, it'll add a microscopic layer of protection."

    Maura smiled. "Sweet. Gimme the tan, and the red."

    Nine circled his armor, as Iola pointed to it. "Guys guys, LOOK!" Iola, two years old now, was capable of speaking for herself. She pointed to a slight anomaly in the armor suits.

    It was a tiny symbol, apparently branded in text font, on the right side of Nine's neck.


    It was stamped on in blue, both Nine and Iola's favorite color.

    Bailey shrugged. "She said she wanted it on every suit of Mjolnir EVER. That's...impossible, but I put it on all the Freelancer variants."

    Maura checked the neck of her suit. (T-T)b

    Linda gave Bailey a confused, sharp look. "You let a child modify our suits?" Linda obeyed Bailey like a superior officer, but worried about her mental health at times.

    "Whaaat? She asked, and it wasn't a TECHNICAL decision. Just a little paint." Bailey torqued her jaw. "Insubordinate Philistine."

    Lucy turned to Nine. "John, what's a Philistine?"

    "In the fields of philosophy and æsthetics, the term philistinism describes the social attitude of anti-intellectualism that undervalues and despises art, beauty, spirituality, and intellect," Nine reported. He knew a large amount of big words, mostly used in crossword puzzles, or insulting enemies. Lucy nodded in thanks for clarifying.

    "What?!" Linda burst with anger for an instant, but, lacking a firm argument to make, she simply folded her arms and looked away. "...I'm a zen practitioner. That's TECHNICALLY art." Linda grumbled.

    "You two cool it." Nine let Iola down from his shoulders. "What gives, kiddo?"

    Iola hustled in front of Bailey. "Gimme your chair. I want to talk to the troops."

    Jorge stifled a laugh, and Maura elbowed him. "She wants to talk to the troops Jorge. Shhh." Bailey got out of her chair, an Iola stood on it, as if the back was a podium. It seemed somewhat fitting.

    "Iola, you have the floor." Lucy crossed her arms, beaming with pride at her daughter. Nine, curious, waited for Iola's explaination.

    Iola, in a startling imitation of Lord Hood (Were he a young girl), began her first rousing, military speech.

    "Soldiers, I put that sticker on your necks, because it'll keep you safe." Iola pointed to the neckline of each suit. "That's me, I'm giving a thumbs up, so the bad guys can't cut off your heads, or hit you and break your brains."

    Jorge's eyes widened. "That's a bit grim." He turned to Nine. "What's this kid watch, horror films?"

    "Shut up, Jorge. I'm a good Dad." Nine glared at Jorge. "She watches cartoons."

    "If that's you, then why are you crying? The eyes look like tears." Lucy frowned as she made the observation.

    "Because I'm sad that you have to fight alien bastads." Iola addressed the question with childlike professionalism, despite not knowing the word "bastards," and not having a clear idea what an alien was. "But I want you to win, so I'm giving a thumbs up, so you'll be brave. So, troops, be brave, ok?"

    Iola pointed to Nine, who was on the verge of confused, passionate tears. He bit his upper lip. "Especially you, daddy. You get punched a lot, so you must see the most aliens. Be more careful, and punch them super hard so they learn their lesson and run away."

    Nine saluted Iola. "Ma'am, yes ma'am."

    Iola stepped down from the podium. "Aunt Maura, give me money. I'm thirsty."

    Maura clasped her hands together. Awwww...her first extortion. Maura reached into her pocket, and handed Iola enough credits to buy juice from a vending machine. Iola, now bored of the conversation, sprinted off.

    Linda patted Lucy on the shoulder. "Cute kid. She'll make a fine...um..." Linda pointed to Nine. "Whatever his job is."

    Nine wiped his eyes. "Bailey, I want the this to be the emblem on my chest plate."

    Jorge, seeing that Nine was about to cry, turned away. "Good grief. You're twenty something years old."

    "SHUT UP JORGE!" Nine growled. "You try being a Dad! It does weird shit to your soul and stuff!"

    To this day, every Freelancer Mjolnir suit has (T-T)b written on it in tiny letters. Most people don't notice it, and some are confused by it and have no idea where it came from.

    Those who do find out invariably go "awww."

    Thus, the power of children and emoticons move even the most cold and warlike of hearts.

    Have a nice day, people.


    Last edited by Bad John on August 8th 2013, 1:22 am; edited 3 times in total
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1365
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Age : 24
    Location : The Great White North (Canada)

    Airbrushed. Empty Re: Airbrushed.

    Post  Manny on August 5th 2013, 1:20 pm

    Must... Resist... Tears!

    *sheds manly tear*

      Current date/time is May 23rd 2019, 7:18 am