Jump to content

Exile_Jeane

Members
  • Content Count

    130
  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    4

Exile_Jeane last won the day on June 14

Exile_Jeane had the most liked content!

Community Reputation

5 Neutral

Recent Profile Visitors

The recent visitors block is disabled and is not being shown to other users.

  1. Katarina sat perched on a crate of supplies as the Captain gave his brief, fiddling with her very sharp knife. Her expression hardened as her country's own abandonment was skimmed over. The kaiju weren't dumb, never had been. Dumb didn't win a land war in Asia, build antinuke quantum shenanigans fields over their hives, or crash land a successful beach head from nowhere. It took all she had in her not to spit or ruin the tip of her knife carving something obscene into the wood of the crate she was sitting on. Good on these Indians for finding something that forced the brains behind the beasts
  2. One long held breath later, Grace exhaled again as the potential for more violence fizzled out with Brigit's collapse. Chaos? Yes. The peristaltic quiver of a crowd caught between rubbernecking and panic? Yes. But the violence of a new Stormer lashing out in confusion and panic in a packed private space? Blessedly, no. The worst of Grace's nightmares replayed those burning minutes of her life over and over as flesh and bone and nerve all strengthened just in time for another wave of power stressed them to breaking point again before strengthening again. All to the disjointed backgr
  3. Seeing and being seen was part of the game she had been taught growing up by her parents. Particularly seeing and being seen by the right people at the right places. It was all about Reputation. The Williams were no scandal a week tabloid fodder. Or at least hadn't been before Benin and Grace had gotten herself plastered all over the internet punching out inhuman monsters. So tonight was about proving she could play the role, dressed to her best in a cream dress and jacket combo, hair up and 3" heels. As the car pulled up in the designated drop off point in front of the venue, the blonde Storm
  4. Katarina had a choice comment about soldiers being like mushrooms in being kept in the dark and fed shit primed on her tongue when the Captain dropped his little volunteer speech. The other MEKA model users were out there kicking ass and taking names in the big offensive already, and there was no way in hell she was going to be sitting here with tales of shit guard details to compare to theirs. This way she might not even have to go a court martial in the process of earning her wild stories. "I'm in. No way are you going anywhere without my Hot Potato to trail break for this disast
  5. Silence. Nonanswers and inaction and more inaction as time and dark and who knew how much closer these other Stormers got closer to waking up their ancient aliens. They needed a way through and now. "Right. I'm gonna make a hole," she declared, kicking off the floor of the tunnel and pointing one finger at the gargantuan blockage. All she'd have to do was push, right? She'd pushed before when her juice ran low, so she'd just push for more power in one go. Easy. These tunnels had withstood the sheer thundering impact of the Atlantic Ocean coming on top of them with no damage to thei
  6. "Yes, I am," Grace replied, closing her menu, "Corned beef mac and cheese, please." Order given, she spared the ghost of a sympathetic smile for the waitress, adding another few dollars to her future tip at meal's end. Life had a way of ripping your feet out from under you despite your best laid plans. She knew that all too well. And the office gossip, when it hadn't gravitated in her direction, had talked about how exciting it was to see the 'champ' back in action before her big bout and not on said champ's challenger. Not even her name really, from what she had overheard before t
  7. "Administrative assistant at Gilda's Club, starting this week. Before that, staying out of trouble so as to not annoy my parents," she replied after another blink and pause, chuckling a little darkly at her self-deprecating honesty. This had been a good week, professionally far as she could tell. The local CEO of Gilda's Club had been enthusiastic to help her settle in and brought up to speed under the guidance of the other staff in the office. How much of that was hope she'd bring (another?) donation from her family versus the the PR of a Stormer working with his organization, she
  8. Chicago at night was lit from below like a challenge to the darkness of the clouds above and lake to the east. The wind whistled through it's glass and steel canyons, rattling the sliding glass-door of Grace's apartment balcony. The clock on the wall blinked 2:14 am, the light of the resting, if the word resting could apply to Chicago, city beyond kept at bay by hanging curtains. The blond Stormer sat curled up on a new chair under a new lamp reading a familiar book between pauses to glance up at at the strange, new walls around her. She'd frown, sigh, and then go back to trying to keep engage
  9. Grace leaned over to get a look at the new guy, one eyebrow raised as she choked down an irreverent reply or three with an officer who didn't appear to hate her present. Not too bad looking. Maybe even fun if the keeness was just for show. Sucked to be him getting tossed in with the scraps during the big surge. The Russian Brunette grinned welcome and made to get up, allow the Captain to do what he was evidently here to do instead of overhear her half-cooked theories of mech combat doctrine.
  10. "...Thank you, Sir. I was taught that you don't get downwind of a fat deer by tromping at them through snowdrifts," she returned after a second of appraising thought. 'Hogan' on his name tag with an Engineer's patch. She didn't *think* she'd pissed off anyone in that department aside from a mechanic after her latest bit of overdoing it on the urban drill course. And she'd made a point to get him a little something extra afterward, too, so she didn't think was trap... Might as well roll with it. "Was lucky enough to meet an engineer who could put that feeling into plastic and steel
  11. "I'd be worried if you could, American," Katarina intoned mock-solemnly, "I'm sure there's someone we're supposed to report alien infiltrator mutants to." The note of glib cynicism in her voice continued into another satisfied chuckle, still high off of the win, "And thanks. She's not the only MEKA model out there, but Hot Potato is mine. Good job cross qualifying on platforms, David. Far from the easiest trick with how... varied the control schemes are." The brunette flexed her fingers, working out the hint of future soreness from gripping the mock up of her mech's twi
  12. Legal Name: Grace Williams Alias: Apex Eruption: The Storm Allegiance/Affiliations: Her Family (For Now) Appearance: Five and a half feet tall, Grace is blonde-haired and gray-eyed with a slender build that utterly belies her quantum-fueled physical strength. Befitting her status as a Williams, she tries to dress up when not indulging the athleticism that her transformation brought with it. She moves with the quiet assurance of someone who knows that they can make (almost) anyone move out of the way if a polite 'please' doesn't do the trick. Temperament: Solemn bu
  13. There was a chuckle over the intercom and a good-natured taunt from Katarina in Russian, "And David goes down like Goliath." She pushed her VR headset up and off of her face, sitting up from her mock control couch and releasing her death grip on the twin trigger grips. It had been a close run thing trying to put enough ruins between her and David, waiting for the chance for her lightning in a bottle to lance out and score the kill. A grin threatened to split her face. Sure it had often as not been her going down to the superior heavy fire power of the bigger mechs, but this heat wa
  14. "That's... Useful." Karen's voice bluntly conveyed her doubt, arms crossing over her chest, down to a 'Devil Dogs' tanktop and sweatpants after a cathartic session with her punching bag, the ship in as good a state as she could make it without driving herself nutty looking for problems. The selfcare was more important when they were who knows how many years separated from their own time no matter how miraculously close four point something something light years was from home. Faint ache in her knuckles helped her stay centered as she digested what Rachel said, ponder in the silenc
×
×
  • Create New...