| One of the four Hangars that host mixed-gendered soldiers whom embarked on Primo Victoria for the space-exploration mission. |
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| The door to Caroline's pod opens, the half-asleep woman stumbling out and promptly falling face-first on the tiled floor. The ship's AI speaks in an almost bored tone over the intercom; "Hangar B, Team 2, Cycle 1...defrosting procedure in progress. Specified units' awakening protocols are being performed." Commander Brennan curses loudly, her voice muffled by the floor. Among the words, one can hear a repetition of the word "fuck" every other five seconds, assuming he or she listens intently to the fast stream of verbal injuries. "Fuck this goddamn fucking shit! Goddamit, I wish whoever created frosted sleep would-would-would...FROST IN FUCKING HELL!" Mumbling angrily, Caroline harrumphs, pushing her prosthetic body into function. She slowly rises her arms, whimpering as mechanical joints give odd boinks, groaning from not being used, screeching in seeming annoyance. The woman finally climbs to her feet, staggering and nearly falling back on her rear. Her vision is blurry and she feels an immense hunger. She walks slowly towards her locker, not trusting her eyes or her legs at the moment. Throwing it open with a slam, she raids the shelves for all edible contents. Ripping bag after bag open, the cyborg female hungrily consumes her food rations. Semi-satisfied, she gives an approving sigh of contentment. Her head is finally clear. She finally assesses her body. Angry red covers blotchy patches of her skin, and the affected places hurt immensely; a few joints feel loose and the titanium in her begs for some maintenance. Caroline nods to herself. "Azazel? Wake the fuck up, dolt." "I was awake as soon as you were, you heathen." her AI grumbles in response. The woman rolls her eyes. "Shaddup and fix me, would ya?" "I'm working on it, Your Impatience. So shut the fuck up and let me do my job, would you?" "More of this attitude and I'm replacing ya." "Love you too, sugar. Love you too." Ignoring her state of undress, the woman raids her locker for her pack of cigars. A small flame comes out of her right hand's index, and she lights one of the tobacco sticks, licking her lips in satisfaction as she takes the cancer-inducing drug out of her mouth to exhale the first drag. |
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| Regus staggered out of the cryostatis tube, leaned on it with one arm, and shook his head clear. "Nap time's over?" he asked no one in particular. "Hell, it's about damn time..." Regus stretched and shook his limbs on his way over to his locker to get the feeling back in them which, in light of his two artificial limbs, he now did as more of a habit than anything. He opened up his locker which wasn't too far from his commander who had been cursing up a storm and quickly devoured everything edible he could find; no where near satisfactory but it was something. He then rummaged through his locker to find his smokes and with some trouble manage to find them. As he placed his cigar in his mouth he looked over towards Caroline and it crossed his mind to ask her for a light, an idea which quickly got pushed aside. Probably be best to not ask for trouble first thing in the morning... He rummaged through his locker more and after managing to find his lighter, lit up and smoked quietly as he got dressed. |
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| "Tell me about it..." Caroline mutters, addressing her lieutenant. Smoke comes out of her mouth and nostrils, giving her the appearance of a human dragon. "Life ain't gonna kill me, but this shit will." she adds helpfully, pointing over her shoulder to the pod she stumbled out of less than ten minutes ago. "Sweet cheeks, I'm gonna get you fixed completely in about ten minute's time. Careful with your arms. They aren't in the best shape for now. I'd fix the joints, but it will hurt...like hell." Azazel grumbled once more. Caroline winced. "Just do it, goddamit. It hurts anyway." She yelps in surprise, hissing lowly as her AI follows her instruction. "Boy, do you move fast...you coulda've warned me, you little shit." "I did, heathen. Now shush, it'll pass." The commander mutters a colorful string of curses, finishing her cigar and burning the remnants to ashes. She then begun to get dressed, starting by putting on a pair of black jeans. |
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| "Ha! You and me both, Commander," Regus replied as he laced up his boots, smoke coming out of his mouth and nostrils as well. "I could sure go for some real food right about now though, not this packaged crap they give us. That and a good ole bottle of whiskey." |
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| Caroline sighed dramatically, wiping a non-existent tear from the corner of her eye as she finished putting on her black tank-top. "I'd kill for some steak and a swig about now..." she replied to his comment, voice dropping to a comically conspiracy-like whisper. "Too bad the old geezer doesn't allow anyone to have a drink during "work hours"." she added heatedly, making quotation marks with her fingers. Pouting childishly, she zipped up her flak vest. "Damned heathen." "You really shouldn't speak like that about your superior, sugar." Azazel's voice rung out, and she promptly flipped the bird to the thin air. "Look at me and see if I give a fuck, ya outdated machinery." "Says the one who built said machinery." The commander decided to ignore her mother-hen AI, and instead rummaged through her locker, grinning mischievously and giving a victorious squeal as she pulled out a silver-colored vacuum flask. She rubbed her cheek against the cool surface of the thermos, sighing happily. "So glad Annya remembered~" Caroline opens the recipient with a pop, taking a sip. She nods to herself, holding it out for Regus. "Under tension-filled circumstances, one must always have a drink around...even if it implies bribing the Maintenance personnel." she lectured, face perfectly serious. |
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| Regus smiled as accepted the flask. "I'll be sure to remember that next time I need to go in the freezer," he said and then took a swig from the flask. "Ahhh, now there's the good stuff. To be honest, I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner. I only wish I could bribe someone to put a giant, pipin' hot steak in my locker too," he chucked as he handed the flask back to her. "Now, when in the hell are our grunts gonna wake up, you think?" he asked. |
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| Caroline shrugged, taking a large swig herself. "It wouldn't be hot enough when we wake up, though." she commented, rubbing her chin. She momentarily placed the thermos in her locker so she could buckle on her fingerless glove-sleeves. Once finished, she wiggled her toes disdainfully. "I have no fucking clue..." she muttered in response to Regus' second inquiry, groaning. "These sods are as frozen as a bloody corpse." she appreciated, scanning visually the closed pods. "It's worrisome," Azazel punctuated for the both of them, "that the defrosting procedure started over fifteen minutes ago, yet only two people dropped out." "But it's normal, considering that we're almost in a comatose state when we hibernate. Fuck, do I feel like a bloody bear now." Caroline completed with a groan. She rubbed the back of her neck, noting for her first time that her usually pinned up multicolored hair was free to cascade down her back. "I guess our only option is..." the commander paused dramatically for effect, "...to wait till the heathens decide beauty sleep can't help them." She bent down to put socks on her feet, followed by a pair of knee-high boots bearing a dirty-looking olive green color. |
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