|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 11:09 am
He stepped forwards hurredly as she made contact with the chair, then backed off bashfully as she regained her composure without his chivalrous support. On seeing the cages, he was instantly transfixed, and walked forwards again to stand just behind her, looking in on whatever lay there. The monkey seemed... normal. If you could call a monkey in a military institution normal. The other may have been sleeping in the box, he couldn't tell. He'd never heard of animals being kept in Crescendo before, heck, being kept on Incendiax property before. It was why he was so curious when he heard that flandamerite was possibly sentient. Though he'd never heard of the Incendiax 'No Pets' policy, he'd yet to see another person with one.
Standing so close to Anne, he could feel her body heat between them, he could smell her hair. He found his eyes cutting backwards and forwards between the cages and Anne herself, who captivated him in a way he'd never felt before. It made no sense to him, not much of this sort of thing ever did, and it was a little worrying. And yet, at the same time, quite exciting.
"What are they?" he asked, scrutinizing the corners of the caged box in case it might have moved, "Pets? Or is this some crazy new strain of flandamerite?"
He felt it was unlikely, but he wanted to get the possibility out of the way as soon as he could. After all, Incendiax had a sentient mineral power source, what else might they have dug up whilst his back was turned? His sleuth's instinct directed his attention quickly to the main door, still slightly ajar. It seemed that they had a rat, though he wasn't sure which. It was unlikely to be Cyriel, he could sense her a mile off. Whoever it was, they were more than likely harmless. He returned his attention to Anne and the creatures.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 1:29 pm
She felt him move towards her and her pulse sped up, his presence was somehow comforting to her. The monkey moved towards the front of the cage and pulled faces at her through the bars; she giggled and stuck her tongue out at him.
“This little chap is Martin,” she opened the cage with one hand whilst holding the monkey back with one hand. She took the empty Tupperware box from the cage and replaced it with the full one from the box; the monkey proceeded to gorge itself. Nothing moved in the other cage, she replaced the empty box in there with one full of bugs.
“Amy doesn’t come out much when there are strangers around. There’s no flandermite in these beasties, they’re the results of successful experiments.” She smiled kindly at the creatures before stepping backwards from the cage into Matarael’s chest. She gasped and whirled around, the tip of her nose brushing just beneath his lower lip. His breath tickled her face and she threw herself backwards into the cages, her ankle twisted and she went down with a shriek of pain.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 1:54 pm
He started, and as it felt in a battle situation time started to slow down. This gave his mind the time it needed to think to itself: Why bother taking all this effort and expending it on the wellbeing of one girl? She's just a scientist, it's not like she needs her leg for anything. Hell, she could work in front of a computer all day, if she wanted, and need never walk again. But then again, there's something about this one, something that causes me to react in this way, and I had better not fight my feelings. Was it Allen who said that? No matter.
His mind made up, he reached out below himself and grabbed her as she fell, one arm holding her back the other under her knees. The way they did it in the movies, as Cyriel might have quipped. He didn't put her down straight away, she wasn't heavy at all, and slowly brought himself up to his full height again. This felt nice.
"Are you alright?" he asked, looking down at her, "Can you walk?" He even allowed himself a small smile.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 2:12 pm
She was falling, slowly, so slowly, there was nothing she could do to stop herself; the holes in the cages weren’t big enough to get a purchase. The next thing she knew she was in his arms staring up into his eyes, her heart was racing; she was shaking visibly.
“I-I think I c-can st-st-stand.” She took a calming breath, “I think I can st-stand, I’m n-n-n-n-n-”she shook her head with a curse of frustration, clearing the confusion from her mind, not entirely convinced that it was caused by her fall, “I’m n-not sure I can walk th-though.”
She looked straight into his face, trying to see what his smile was about, was he laughing at her; did he think she was clumsy and stupid? There wasn’t a hint of mockery in his eyes. She reached up and put one hand on his shoulder.
“Thanks for catching me” she whispered, stunned.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 2:29 pm
He nodded, still smiling. "Of course." he said, before walking with her back to her desk nearby, seating her upon it. Stepping back, he turned to her again. "Perhaps you'd better keep this room free of clutter, you'd be less likely to fall." A helpful suggestion, he felt, not realising it could be taken negatively, and took a survey of the room. It was a wonder she could get about at all. Perhaps he was just being extra-critical, all of his soldiers had impeccable balance in any situation. He made sure of that. Scientists, no doubt, had no such training.
"You seem agitated." he remarked, stepping a little closer and examining her eyes, "Would you like a drink of water?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 2:05 am
She stared at him for a while after he’d set her down then burst out laughing, “I’m quite fine, thank you,” she gasped, looking around at the cold cups of coffee, then straight into his eyes with a big smile, “I’ve been working hard on ol’ flanny for a few days, I’m afraid office tidiness was somewhere near eating and sleeping at the bottom of my list of things to do.” she beamed at him, “I really think I should eat now, w-would you care to join me?” She smiled nervously. A small breeze wafted from the second door to her office, she raised her voice a little, “I’m sure Marcus will be kind enough to accommodate you.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 2:05 am
He could hear voices on the other side of the door, not raised but there was a kind of scuffing, he decided to go and have a look. Mark rested his hand on the door and pushed it open a smidge, completely silently. He saw Anne sitting on the table with him looking into her eyes. -I wish he’d look at me that way- Mark thought jealously, as he stepped away from the door. He was just about to head back down the corridor when he heard his name; she’d known he was there all along. He hurried back to his trolley and navigated it to the door, he pushed the door open.
“Hello Anne, M-Matarael, what can I interest you in today?” his voice was nearly confident and only very slightly bitter.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 6:53 am
Matarael found himself taken aback at Marcus' sudden appearance. Of all the people he knew, that boy was the one he had least expected. Or desired to see. He eyed Marcus warily, hopeful that he wouldn't start trying to hug him, as he remembered occuring on several occasions prior.
"Hello, Marcus." he said, trying his best to sound energetic, "I'm fine, really. Er... thanks."
He had to look away, and as he did his eyes returned to the monkey, who was also watching him. There were a lot of similarities between Marcus and... what's his name... Marty, or something similar. Like Anne, he hadn't much of a memory for names. He breifly had the conspiratorial, and frankly paranoid thought that Allen had sent Marcus down to torment him for chatting to Anne. It was certainly like him, though he didn't think so in this case. There were very few cameras down here, Matarael knew he was out of sight for the time being.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 25, 2007 1:18 pm
Marcus couldn’t help but let his eyes wander of Matarael; he cut such a strong, masculine figure, there was something distinctly dangerous about him; Matar had a proper bad-boy image. For a moment, Mark considered swearing his life to this dashing fellow. Mark knew that Matar was as straight as they come, that didn’t mean Mark couldn’t come to mean something to this fine cut of a gentleman.
“Not even a nice cold glass of orange juice?” he asked, hopeful and unaware that such hope gleamed form his eyes. It was after this long moment that he remembered Anne sitting on the sidelines. Anne is friend who’d not even or drank for goodness knows how long.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 26, 2007 8:03 am
"No, really." he insisted, still trying not to make eye contact. There was something about Marcus' eyes that made him feel oh so uncomfortable, it was like the silly little fellow was trying to see right into his soul. He didn't like the idea of that. "Now, if you don't mind..." he decided against adding unnecissary detail, partly because he didn't know how Anne would react to his requirement of privacy with her. But he did want it like that, whatever his common sense told him.
He spent the time he used averting his eyes to look closer at some of the essay titles that were dotted about. Some in particular stood out: S-1 Improvements, The S-Series and its Requirements, Implementation of S-Generation Weaponary. Matarael had taken an interest in the S-Mechs, despite the fact that, like his meeting with Flanny, his chance to pilot one would never happen. It used specific intergration technology to synthesise with the pilot, which meant they had to have mechanical features. That crossed out all humans bar Allen, and his piloting abilities were yet to be safety-tested. Still, when he had seen the S-1 Prototype during the unveiling that Allen had meticulously put together, he couldn't help but feel like he was meant to pilot it. Like it was built for him. A stupid thought, he was only human. Jarring himself from his thoughts so he was paying attention, Matarael looked at Marcus' shoes, so to keep from looking into those dark, chasmic eyes. Intimidating, so it was.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 01, 2007 12:55 am
The tiniest smile escaped onto Anne’s lips; she knew how Marcus adored this strong, silent type and now failed to remember a time before he was ranting about this Matarael in particular. Now she could see why.
Carefully, she looked at Matarael, her mind was full of contradiction; she didn’t want him to know she wanted to be alone with him, to talk to him more and at the same time she wanted him to want to be alone with her; she wanted to push mark out of the door for adoring him and at the same time she was scared of what she might do if there was no chaperone.
“Come back and visit, it can get very boring down here,” she said quietly, “You might even meet the flandermerite.” It was then that she noticed Marcus staring at him with a rather perculiar intensity. Even Mark is usually more discreet than that, she thought she saw him glance at her, “Marcus, leave the poor soul alone and I’ll have a nice cup of ice tea if you please!”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 01, 2007 9:55 am
He sighed, masking his frustration with simple fatigue.
"Can't be helped." he said, making his way towards the door. He turned his head as he did, "I may take you up on that offer." he said to Anne as he passed Marcus on his way out, making sure to keep well away in case the proximity gave him funny ideas. "Bye." he said simply as he left through the door, walking at a hurried pace towards the freight elevator back to the main deck.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 01, 2007 10:04 am
Allen's head was hung low as he walked the corridors of the research bay, and every so often his gaze shifted to the gauntlet on his left arm, the one with a semi-transparent panel covering an emergency control device. Something had been troubling him since the end of the battle at Fortissimo, and he had to get to the bottom of it. This was more than just his own efficency at stake, it could be so much more if it got out of hand. Besides, someone special worked down here.
His thoughts were jarred by footsteps up ahead. He raised his head to spot Matar striding back towards him looking, dare he even think it, disappointed. Usually he could hide his feelings so easily, this was a bit of a surprise for Allen. Quizical expression on his face, he addressed his subordinate.
"M'." he hailed, using the casual term so that he could measure the formality of the coming conversation. If he left it up to Matar, he'd have no doubt been addressed as 'Leige' or some such nonsense. It got on his nerves sometimes, but it did feel damned good in the right context.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 01, 2007 10:08 am
Matarael stopped abruptly as he was addressed, immediately performing an attention-salute as was his custom on hearing that voice. For the time being, his musings on life and love would have to be pushed to one side. They could easily be uncovered if he returned here, for example.
"Sir!" he barked, composing himself as best he could in the eyes of his commander. He took a brief look into Allen's eyes, spotting something amiss in amongst the cornea. Sadness? Regret? Though he never would, he felt as if he should enquire. They were still friends after all. Heck, closer to brothers. "How have you fared of late? I hear there was an assault on Fortissimo."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 02, 2007 2:10 pm
"Hmm." he grunted in affirmation, "No hassle. That's the reason I'm here actually, there's something I need to discuss with Anne." he scratched his chin, looking away at the walls of the corridor sheepishly. He didn't like mentioning her around his friends, his lieutenants, he felt they could see right through him and his subtle gestures. "We didn't suffer any casualties, at least. Your men have been well-trained."
He nodded, attempting a smile and only half-succeeding. Matar was very perceptive, more so than Cyriel. It was a little intimidating talking to him at all, when he had something to hide. He started walking again, stepping past him and turning his head around to peer at his subordinate.
"I'll talk to you later," he said, "Cyriel wants to organise... something." And with than he continued his walk.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
