Blaine finished putting on his bodysuit, clenching his hand with a loud cacophony of deep, snapping sounds, his knuckles popping as he stepped across the walkway. He wasn't thrilled about discarding his trustworthy, older set of armor. Be that as it may, it was important to remain in the best possible gear, and Bailey had personally reached out to him for that purpose.
The young doctor, along with a small group of scientists, gathered around the armoring platform. There were two familiar faces standing nearby. John-B069, the Spartan-III commando he'd worked with in the past, leaned against the railing. He wore his own suit of armor already; the suite reminded Blaine of Kelly's old set, only sleeker and coffee brown. The Spartan gave Blaine a nod, then traced his finger across his visor in a tacit "Spartan smile." He spoke up under his helmet. "Trust me. You're gonna like it. Right, big guy?"
Beside John loomed one of Blaine's oldest comrades. A blood brother to the end, and a genuine ghost from the past, Jorge-052 stared down at John, then back up at Blaine, giving the man a nod. "Bailey doesn't just measure your body, she measures your abilities and tastes. Whatever armor she's prepared, it was built with you in mind."
"You're damn skippy." Bailey beamed with pride, stepping up to the platform behind a small console. "Enough talk. Step on up and put it on, then you can tell us what you think!"
Blaine shifted a bit, before trotting onto the platform in a few big steps. He grasped the handles over his shoulders, and placed his feet, steadying himself as the shoe components of the armor were snapped into place. He was slowly lifted, as the leg armor was assembled around his hips and shins. He was pulled up and backwards as he held on, the armor attached to his back and shoulders. He felt the weight settling onto him as the mechanical arms screwed the joints in, then released. The gauntlets came next, bolted on with mechanical precision and slow, deliberate grace. He was slowly lowered and rotated upright, as the helmet was lowered onto his head. He tilted his neck slightly as the GEN2 BIOS came to life. In the top right corner, there was a small message that Blaine might have missed if he had blinked.
"Hello, Blaine!" The message faded as his shields hummed to life, and his visor displayed the pertinent information. His motion tracker pinged the people nearby in yellow, and he looked around as he stepped off the platform.
The first thing that struck him was how natural it felt. It was comfortable; weighty, but not obtrusive. He stretched, and the armor flowed with him. It felt like a quantum leap above all armor he'd previously borne.
John, across from him, smirked as a mirror was wheeled up to his face. He was dumbstruck when he realized that what he was looking at was him.
It was unmistakably GEN2 Mjolnir, but the aesthetic was something out of a dream. Like a dragoon of old, his great, blue and red armor was set with segments like plat-mail. A pair of strong paldrons on either shoulder, and rigid vambraces and bicep armor, he flexed his arm. The faceplate looked like the helm of a knight.
"I'll admit, this wasn't my original design, aesthetically. I found design sketches in Dr. Halsey's old files. Your name was on it. I assume she meant for you to have this, Sir Blaine." Bailey smiled. "The internals are all mine, though. In this, you can take a hit and give it back tenfold."
John removed his helmet, a wide grin on his face. He saluted the Spartan II. "You look like a million bucks, sir." He didn't have a joke or a friendly barb. "I can see you like it, eh?"
Blaine's words caught in his throat when he heard that Catherine Halsey had done the design sketches on the suit. Bailey stepped beside him. "I call it Alala. Named it after the Greek spirit of the war cry. Thoughts?"
Finally speaking, Blaine turned and removed his helmet. "It's outstanding, doctor. I can't wait to test it."
He'd have plenty of opportunities in the future, with the Guardians lurking in the future, humanity would need able champions. The UNSC's Knight finally had his suit.
The young doctor, along with a small group of scientists, gathered around the armoring platform. There were two familiar faces standing nearby. John-B069, the Spartan-III commando he'd worked with in the past, leaned against the railing. He wore his own suit of armor already; the suite reminded Blaine of Kelly's old set, only sleeker and coffee brown. The Spartan gave Blaine a nod, then traced his finger across his visor in a tacit "Spartan smile." He spoke up under his helmet. "Trust me. You're gonna like it. Right, big guy?"
Beside John loomed one of Blaine's oldest comrades. A blood brother to the end, and a genuine ghost from the past, Jorge-052 stared down at John, then back up at Blaine, giving the man a nod. "Bailey doesn't just measure your body, she measures your abilities and tastes. Whatever armor she's prepared, it was built with you in mind."
"You're damn skippy." Bailey beamed with pride, stepping up to the platform behind a small console. "Enough talk. Step on up and put it on, then you can tell us what you think!"
Blaine shifted a bit, before trotting onto the platform in a few big steps. He grasped the handles over his shoulders, and placed his feet, steadying himself as the shoe components of the armor were snapped into place. He was slowly lifted, as the leg armor was assembled around his hips and shins. He was pulled up and backwards as he held on, the armor attached to his back and shoulders. He felt the weight settling onto him as the mechanical arms screwed the joints in, then released. The gauntlets came next, bolted on with mechanical precision and slow, deliberate grace. He was slowly lowered and rotated upright, as the helmet was lowered onto his head. He tilted his neck slightly as the GEN2 BIOS came to life. In the top right corner, there was a small message that Blaine might have missed if he had blinked.
"Hello, Blaine!" The message faded as his shields hummed to life, and his visor displayed the pertinent information. His motion tracker pinged the people nearby in yellow, and he looked around as he stepped off the platform.
The first thing that struck him was how natural it felt. It was comfortable; weighty, but not obtrusive. He stretched, and the armor flowed with him. It felt like a quantum leap above all armor he'd previously borne.
John, across from him, smirked as a mirror was wheeled up to his face. He was dumbstruck when he realized that what he was looking at was him.
It was unmistakably GEN2 Mjolnir, but the aesthetic was something out of a dream. Like a dragoon of old, his great, blue and red armor was set with segments like plat-mail. A pair of strong paldrons on either shoulder, and rigid vambraces and bicep armor, he flexed his arm. The faceplate looked like the helm of a knight.
"I'll admit, this wasn't my original design, aesthetically. I found design sketches in Dr. Halsey's old files. Your name was on it. I assume she meant for you to have this, Sir Blaine." Bailey smiled. "The internals are all mine, though. In this, you can take a hit and give it back tenfold."
John removed his helmet, a wide grin on his face. He saluted the Spartan II. "You look like a million bucks, sir." He didn't have a joke or a friendly barb. "I can see you like it, eh?"
Blaine's words caught in his throat when he heard that Catherine Halsey had done the design sketches on the suit. Bailey stepped beside him. "I call it Alala. Named it after the Greek spirit of the war cry. Thoughts?"
Finally speaking, Blaine turned and removed his helmet. "It's outstanding, doctor. I can't wait to test it."
He'd have plenty of opportunities in the future, with the Guardians lurking in the future, humanity would need able champions. The UNSC's Knight finally had his suit.
Morgan let me make a suit for Blaine. Decided on an Arthurian aesthetic. Alala seemed the most fitting name for big blue. :P
Last edited by Bad John on July 10th 2016, 12:13 am; edited 1 time in total
