Welcome to Gaia! ::

-=: Welcome to the Wasteland :=-

Valco leaped down from the access gantry of the Gestalt easily, boots kicking up miniature dust clouds. He adjusted the sunglasses he wore and tucked his long hair back behind his ears, setting off toward the nearby outpost at a leisurely pace. The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the area, and he instantly felt the change in temperature as he moved from the shade of the Gestalt into the full sunlight. The outpost was small, but not so small that there wouldn't be a saloon. He laughed quietly as he rounded a corner and saw the building, adjusting the rifle on his back to hang more comfortably as he moved through the door and sat down at the small bar, instantly slapping down a small processor chip and ordering enough booze to get a group drunk for a week. The man went about his work quickly, setting a clear glass bottle before the man.

Before leaving the Gestalt he had told the rest of his crew that he was off to find supplies and assumed that they would remember his knack for finding "supplies" within saloons.

The glass that had been given to him was pushed aside and slid down the bar as Valco began to drink straight from the bottle after taking off his sunglasses and setting them on the bar. After a moment or two of drinking he put the bottle back down and coughed once, eyes slightly bleary. "Damn, this is good stuff," he muttered, laughing to himself. He had been drinking fairly heavily for the previous few years, and part of the reason why he put up with Sergius half of the time was because he could distill fairly wicked booze.

"Hey, CD," he said, waving his prosthetic hand at the girl. "Didn't hear you come in." He extended out the bottle toward her, clear liquor sloshing in the bottom. "Try this, its some pretty good stuff." He laughed quietly, fairly sure that she wouldn't accept the drink.

Valco laughed quietly before looking down at the bar, long gray and black hair falling forward to shade his face as he took back the bottle. "Hell, there's no law anymore, CD. Just a bunch of monkeys in carapace armor keeping all the water from us." The barkeep gave him a surprised look and ducked back into the room behind the bar. "Heh, that coward's afraid of 'em even now that the Crimson Wolves are here!"

He tilted the bottle back again, downing the rest of it in one long swig before putting the bottle down and coughing once. "'Course, you're not much of a drinker, CD. I'm not really surprised that it didn't sit well with you." Even though he didn't want to admit it the liquor WAS strong, and it had gone right to his head.

He quickly dismissed her comment with a wave of his mechanical right arm, laughing quietly as he reached for another bottle. "Psh, don't worry about me, Chrys. I can handle myself well enough. I mean, come on. I am the Captain, aren't I?" He took a swig from the nearly full bottle he had grabbed, bright lights flashing across his vision for a moment. "Damn," he muttered, a smile crossing his face. "Barkeep, where'd you get this stuff?" There was no answer from the back room as Valco took a long draw from the bottle.

In fact, he was already quite drunk. He had taken the early watch for the day and, as such, he had been up since nearly dawn. The sunrise had been accompanied with a flask of strong liquor. That pattern had continued until he was let off of his watch duty around nine and passed out in his cabin until they stopped.

Blade's feet implanted firmly into the ground as he touched down from the access hatch of the Gestalt. His eyes followed up the path of freshly laid tracks until they met with the backside of CD, who was entering a tavern just behind Valco. Guess the Captain's working hard on finding those much needed 'supplies' again... he thought. It wasn't like Blade minded. Any opportunity to get outside and take a load off at an outpost was a blessing to him. And tying one on with the crew made for some pretty memorable nights. Blade had been with the Crimson Wolves for a year now, and he was used to this sort of thing. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he began following the tracks, kicking up small dust clouds of his own. The heat hit him hard as he stepped out of the Gestalt's shadow and into the sun, but his body quickly cooled, thanks to his Dermal Implants. With a thought, he dimmed the lighting on his cyberoptics to shade the intense light. His fingers felt around blindly in his pockets for his call card key as he plodded along the path. Finally, his fingers felt across the thick piece of plastic. Blade produced the small, transparent card key as he ran his thumb along the bar-code. He then veered off the path his other two comrades took in favor of a nearby vid-phone terminal, which stood a few feet adjacent to the saloon. Blade paused for a moment in front of it, staring at the blank screen. Finally, he inserted the card key into the reader. The monitor then lit up with a display output, and the buttons illuminated with a shiny gleam. Blade dialed a number that he had dialed quite often when they stumbled upon these little outposts. He let out a deep, nervous breath as the machine sent the signal...

*BLUIP* An image suddenly transmitted across the screen: She was behind a familiar backdrop of thick, green forestry and trees. Locks of her long, blonde hair draped over the shoulder of her white business attire as she turned her head to face straight-forward. The woman's cherubic facial features lit up with a warm smile. *Oh hey! What's going on?* her soft voice emitted through the distorted speakers as the screen began to break up slightly. *I just thought I should let you know... you're talking to my automated video message! Hehehe, did I get ya? Sorry, I'm not home right now. But just lea-*

Blade slowly pulled the card out of the slot, cutting the transmission off. He had recognized it as Karen's recording the moment he had seen it. He had seen it a few times before, and the forest scenery was a popular background for such messages. It was an exotic type of thing that people could only read about now; something long extinct. Blade's eyes sunk down to the dirt, which was saturated in the dark, lone outline of his shadow as he let out a short, dismal sigh. He then shrugged off the feeling as he turned his back to the vid-phone terminal, and leaned backwards against it. Guess I'll just substitute one bad habit with another... And with that thought in mind, Blade fished out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. It was an addiction he had picked up during his time with the military, but nevertheless, he did find it enjoyable.

Koraj sighed, as he climbed down from the top of the Gestalt. Logan was laughing to himself over a strange little thought that befell him. He was leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up on a table, and turned to Koraj. "Well, it's bout time you came back in." He sighed. Koraj simply glared at him as he blinked repeatedly. "Eh, tried to find CD & Valco. Unfortunately it's brighter than a b***h outside." Koraj grumbled. "Eh, why you lookin for em two so much? It seems their looking for you or your looking for em all the time." Logan asked, staring at the ceiling by now. "Cause it passes the time. Like a big ol' game of hide and seek in the ******** desert." Koraj smarted.

"Man, think of something else to do before you go blind. Wear some shades or something. If nothing else wear a sombrero." Logan chuckled. "Yeah and I bet you've been inside all this time trying to figure out how to take a s**t. Either that or you've been pondering how to screw around with the guns or communications again. We need some action though, this is getting a wee bit annoying." Koraj grumbled, as he stared up the ladder. "Meh, you be a coward, hiding in the sands in your little Fareye, while we're on the frontlines gettin chewed out." He added. Logan just laughed at this. "Yeah, and who's the one who always pisses off the repair crews? Certainly not me."

Valco spun in his seat as well, focusing on CD. The swirling color in her irises was always a bit unnerving, but he ignored it. His own hazel eyes stared straight back, cybernetic eye twisting slowly as it focused. "Well, CD, I really don't feel like having my organs switched around inside of me again. And I'd joke about it more, but I'm afraid that you'd follow through on it." He smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder as he stood up, stretching out his back slightly. "Doesn't look like the barkeep's coming back at any time soon. C'mon, we should head back to the crawler, see if there's actually anything we need to get together."

He stood up and moved behind the bar, putting five or six more bottles into a sack after setting a few small circuit boards and a couple of gemstones on the bar. He picked up the bottle on the bar and turned it up, draining the remaining third in one long draw. As the bottle came from his lips he coughed quietly, setting the bottle back on the bar. "A'right. Le's go." The pistol found its way to his hand and then the holster, only barely making it there. His heavy boots thudded against the wooden floor, stride wobbling slightly as he walked for the swinging door.

Derron Lontaine opened up a hatch on the top of the Gestalt and climbed onto the top. His eyes adjusting to the light, zooming in and out. He thought he saw something in the sand. When he zoomed in, he realized it was foot prints. He followed them only to realized that Valco had gone into the Saloon.

"Oooh, fun. Hope CD doesn't piss off Valco too much. I hate it when they fight."

Derron looked around out into the desert. There really wasn't much excitement going on, but what else was new. He zoomed back out to regular eye sight so he could get a wider view. Nothing. In all directions.

"Right about now is when I want to shoot a bullet into someone's skull. Haven't done it for so long. The firing ranges aren't any fun either."

Derron climbed back down to find Logan receiving crap for piloting a Fareye Mech.

"You know, I think you're just jealous because you get shot at and we don't. I swear, every time I walk in on one of your conversations, some one's either being insulted for being in close combat or sniping. Give it a rest."