#occidentalmechafan

[lady-incisor]

02. It was a weird morning.

[ from this list. ]

For: @occidentalmechafan

It was nearly three in the morning, and Kikuchi decided that Hal was acting weird. It wasn’t unusual for him to be quiet and unmoving as he basked in the faint glow of the computer. Colors would dance on his glasses and mask his tired eyes. 

Whatever was on the screen usually had his undivided attention, but for the past hour, he was focused on her. It wasn’t like he was staring at her the whole time, only occasional aside glances when he thought she wasn’t looking. Kikuchi pretended not to notice.

Hal got up and hurriedly left. This had to be the fifteenth time, at least. Her brows knit in thought. I’d know if he was feeling ill. He rarely stretches. It’s like he forgets. Fragmented ideas rolled around in her mind as she filled the gaps with suspicion. She decided long ago that he was harmless, but curiosity got the better of her. Kikuchi crawled away from the warmth of her blanket, set on pursuit. Her footsteps were fast and quiet down the stairs.

She paused. 

There was a faint smell that wafted down the hall, which got stronger as she approached the kitchen. As she turned the corner and stood at the doorway, she saw Hal hunched over the table in the center of the linoleum floor.

“Okay.” There was an annoyed edge to her voice. “What the fuck are you up to?”

He jumped and turned around and tried to hide the table with his body. Once their gazes met, he immediately looked away as if admitting defeat. “I was that obvious, huh?”

Hal stepped away from the table, which was set for two. Noodles and thin slices of beef were piled high on their plates, with a pot of miso soup resting in the middle. “Since you’ve been getting food from the konbini, I thought I’d cook something. Ah, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first-”

Kikuchi abruptly stepped towards the table to sit down and spooled some food around her chopsticks. The noodles were a bit over-cooked and the beef was greasy but it was delicious all the same. He slumped in the chair next to her and began to eat.

They shared their meal quietly with a sense of ease that mixed in with the dreary hours.

“Thanks.”

[lady-incisor]

Ghost Transistor.

@occidentalmechafan

The crowd of workers in the cramped production room spoke confusedly amongst themselves.

“What is this, a Gundam...?”

“I suppose we can make some of these, but it’ll be so expensive.”

“He has that much money to throw around? Geeze.”

There were piles of papers, which ranged from small-printed technicalities to rolled-up blueprints. An important-looking man observed the group of frazzled, low-level engineers as they pinned papers onto corkboard bulletins. Murmurs amongst the workers confirmed him to be a man named Kosuke Gamo, who had pulled all these people together over the last few weeks. He looked on with pride and barely knew a thing about the process or science behind these behemoth machines, but he had other people to worry about it.  

As the production workers looked on, a sense of uneasiness settled over them. Earlier that morning, a large shipment of unmarked boxes arrived that were hauled off to places unknown. It was a silent weight on their minds, until one of the workers, a young man, looked towards his supervisor and piped up.

“Boss? Do you know what we’re building?”

Wordlessly, the supervisor shook his head, his lips parted. There was no further conversation as they looked ahead. After one last glance at the papers, Gamo left with a couple of engineers following close behind.

With a large group of new workers to overlook, the supervisor never noticed that a mild-mannered woman called Taeko Onuma disappeared into the shadows. That was her name for now, and she had the fake ID to prove it. She adjusted the collar of her navy blue coverall uniform to align the row of buttons, rather than out of nervous fidgeting. While the goings-on were strange and piqued her interest, Onuma had other intentions.

Her objective was to find Kosuke Gamo, and kill him. 

Gamo disappeared within the sea of people in the brightly-lit hallway. She was told that his office was on the top floor, but he probably had other engagements first. The other information she received indicated that he was formerly a drug dealer who came into an obscene amount of money a few months ago. 

Onuma’s plain white shoes barely made a sound on the linoleum. An uncomfortable silence filled the area that she just entered. Slowly, she walked down the hall and occasionally paused to listen to her surroundings like a prowling cat. Unlike the previous floor, where she could tell that people were holed up in their cubicles or locked away in a meeting, there was no indication of any presence here. As she rounded a corner, heavy, running footsteps sounded before something collided with her. It was forceful enough to knock her onto the floor, and the dark hat that obscured her features and tightly coiled bun landed delicately nearby. Onuma was quick to get back on her feet, hands instinctively craving the weight of the small blade hidden in her pocket. She glared at the man on the floor. While he was the only person she could have run into, she swore that she never saw him coming. The realization spooked her, which made her expression deepen. His appearance also threw her off: he had round blue eyes and a mop of grayish brown hair - his skin had a rosier complexion.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” She asked, her voice harsh. “Watch where you’re going.”

[lady-incisor]

If you had to be trapped in an elevator for three hours with someone you knew, who do you hope that someone was?

Emmerich, or Fury. I could tolerate them for that long, at least. 

Who knows? Maybe they’d be able to do something about it.

[military-shop-untouchable]

Geronimo!

Send me “Geronimo!” and I’ll generate 2 numbers for our muses to jump from ________ together because they are running from ________.

4. A bridge onto a passing train

9. Robots

@occidentalmechafan

“You should probably get rid of that lab coat!” Iwai managed to throw this recommendation over his shoulder as he ran. Somewhere along the line he managed to glean from the man that he worked for ArmsTech and went by ‘Otacon’. His whole vibe made him stand out like a piece of chicken in a bowl of cereal -not bad or distasteful, just a little strange. His mousy brown hair was plastered over his forehead from the rain, glasses fogged with moisture. Iwai could only hope that he could actually see where he was going because they were running so fast. 

He grabbed him by the wrist and took him around a sharp corner, skidding across the footpath before picking up speed again. The Doksany bridge was just ahead of them, and Iwai could hear the distant rumble of a fast approaching train. He urged Otacon to hurry and took him through wilting yellow grasses and up two flights of shallow, moss-covered steps. Climbing over the stair railings, he carefully but efficiently travelled along the barely two-inch wide ledge, gloved hands taking hold of the iron bars to help swing his body across. He stopped once he reached the middle and turned his body around, his eyes widening slightly when he looked down to the not insignificant drop below. The train was coming in the opposite direction, and Iwai looked over his shoulder to gauge the speed.

“We aim for the eighth or tenth carriage, ok?” he shouted to Otacon over all the wind and rumbling. “Try and get as much contact as you can after you land and stay low, or you might get blown off!” Iwai looked back at the head of the train just passing through, and his brows furrowed in concentration as he waited.

“Here goes.” Iwai tossed a wide smile at Otacon, and then he pushed himself off the ledge.