Demon Rust IC Thread

[Astros]

Hopping down from the lowering platform ahead of the machinists and engineers who had just finished their initial inspect of his Rust Bolt. Marcel was eager to inspect what remained of the damaged new model Titan Knight that had been dragged back alongside his own upon return. Wondering at the shape of her crew and just how badly the weapon had been damaged. Walking at a pace of double time, he quickly approached the machine on ground level. Looking up at the chassis of the Knight know affectionately as, the Prinz Eugen, by the twin duo that piloted it.

Immediately registering the numerous holes dotting the torn apart arms and legs, the mangled circuitry beneath that had been strewn outside its protective shell, and the covering of blood from her enemies. It would not be a simple matter of repairs, even that he could understand. Expecting it to take several operations just to see it up and bound again, he gave a sigh of pity and disappointment.

Searching afterward for her hopeful crew, his quest was soon abandoned after he learned the Kramers as they were known had not yet returned. Not knowing of when they might come to inspect the craft, Marcel thought instead to visit those who had came back battered and beaten from the front line. With a quick visit to the infirmary, he greeted several in casts, and others who were still unconscious. These were the ones who were able to make it back alive, or in one piece. The fortunate few.

Hoping to take their minds off the situation they found themselves in he entertained them with vain and cliche jokes, detailing the news of the resulting battle and promises of new advances in the form of his well know "victory tomorrow "speeches. Soon turning their anguish away from themselves and toward him, he was asked by the nurse staff to leave as the soldiers needed their rest, from both the front and his ramblings. Returning to Hanger three once more.

He casually eyed the upright Titan Knights as they stood waiting patiently, for their future operations. Stopping at his own and seeing that minor repairs had already begun, he sensed the eyes of someone on him from afar. Looking around slowly, he eventually spotted the black headed beauty he had met eyes with at the start of their operation, merely hours before. Feeling it was her who had been staring from afar and sensing something familiar in her gaze he strolled over to her as she returned to inspecting her equipment.

"Pardon. But I believe we met earlier this morning. Yes? Introductions were kept rather short given the impending run. Master Sergeant Marcel Lazard." An outstretched hand offered a formal introduction as the Old Man continued to speak, hopeful of conversation. "Nice to see one understanding the importance of maintenance. You have to fine a man here at times to get anything done."

@Akashi

 

[EmperorsChosen]

As the team returned home, Leonard breathed a sigh of relief. He had survived yet another conflict. It wasn't his time yet, but that didn't make him any less anxious. After all, while he lived passed the last battle, he knew it would not be his last. Regardless of if he made it, he knew that he would have to go out there again and that the next time he might not be so lucky.

Looking up to the Major as she spoke, Kazik was—confused mainly. Disappointed? Inconvenienced? Or maybe this was exactly as she expected. Either way, it wasn't exactly praise. Then again, even if she stood up their boasting about their capabilities and accomplishments, it wouldn't really help any of their feelings. At least not his own. All he could hope for was that he wasn't one of the two that she referred to.

Sighing, Leonard slung his rifle over his arm via the strap. They were supposed to get to know each other now. That would go about as well as this morning, he surmised. Recalling the event to himself, he let out a disappointed sigh. Maybe now he could go write back to his siblings at least.

 

[Akashi]

Upon their return to base, people were worn out. Some less than others. Some battered, while some returned unscathed. Aleria was one of the latter, but instead, her outfit was covered in blood. Not her own, or her comrades', but to that of the Demon Beasts. First thing in order was to get the blood off of her body. Take a shower, and find a new change of clothes.

What they did in the battlefield was not considered a victory in her mind, nor was it a loss. Perhaps a setback, if anything. The loss was there, but again, it wasn't surprising. Her hair in a ponytail style, she was crouched. Her specialized rifle on the floor, next to her flight unit.

The latter was worn out, but did the trick out there. Her rifle, the Lady of Slaughter, was being maintained by her. However, her attention quickly moved in the direction of a familiar presence, let alone the voice. It was her father. Slightly surprised, her ice blue eyes squinted ever so slightly.

For a moment, she expected him to call her out, but was he that far gone? He couldn't even recognize his daughter? Aleria decided that now was not the time to drop a bomb on her old man. "Hmm? Yes. We did, briefly." A simple smile plastered on her face before she continued.

"Lieutenant Aleria Grehel!" Introducing herself, she shook his hand in the process.

"And yes, you're right. If one doesn't keep their equipment in check, the next fight outside may as well be your last." Her demeanor unchanged, she looked him over once more. This time, her father was up close, and she could see how worn out he seemed on the surface, but his spirit was made for this.

"So, I read about you in the newspapers. I mean, I'm just curious, how did you receive that eyepatch? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

@Astros