OOC: Memory Number Two
Getting ready for bed, Lockon was muddling through his storage bins for warmer pajamas. This snow storm was all to sudden and a bit ridiculous, and being busy with the shop he hadn't had time to dig out any decent amount of proper clothing. He was just beginning to get peeved at his inability to find his favourite tacky flannel pajama bottoms when he moved on to the next box. As he pulled off the lid he was caught off guard. There was sitting a small teddy bear with a memory crystal tied to it's neck. Somewhere in the midst of preparing for the hurricane he had stuffed it aside in the box for safe keeping, and since everything had more or less returned to normal, he had entirely forgotten about it. He shrugged, picking it up. Sitting just under it was the pair of bottoms he had been looking for anyway, so he closed back up the bin and set the bear and its crystal aside on a table as he got dressed for bed.
Just as he had with his first memory, he situated himself comfortably on the futon before diving in. Somehow a stab of paranoia in the back of his mind, probably implanted by Gene, had him glad that he was ready to ignore everything for a bit and drift off to sleep right after the memory- whatever it may end up being. This way if it was something too heavy he would have time to recuperate before the long day ahead of dealing with more snow.
With a low, calm breath he shut his eyes and reached in to grasp the crystal.
-----
A subtlest cloud of smoke and dust obscured the visuals on the display screens, but it wasn’t enough to form any kind of detriment. For a moment he just sat there, scanning over the scene and the display information, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his machine was being bombarded with ammunition; the wing-like shields were doing their job, and there was not the slightest bit of turbulence from the bombardment. It was a little ridiculous how care-free the situation seemed, as he even noticed the clear blue sky in the midst of this war zone.
After what was apparently a complete survey of the situation, he bared down on the controls, leaning forward with a wind of confidence that couldn’t even be broken by the sudden force bearing down on him from the propellant motion. Forward he flew, still close to the ground, towards the half-dozen mobile suits that continued to fire on him. It was futile. Whooshing through a cloud of smoke with a sudden turn, a flick of a wrist and squeeze of the trigger sent one of the opposing suits backwards, immediately mangled and incapacitated. Sliding in from its left rear, another bogey maneuvered to attack, but the movement was all too predictable. He trained on him, easily following the advancement with both of his small arm guns. It was a newer model than the previous, and was holding up surprisingly well against his fire, but it wouldn’t last.
A rain of shots continued to barrage him from all sides, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted an incoming enemy from the rear. But his lips only curled up in a smirk. There was no need to focus on only one target at a time. He widened up his weapon’s stance and controlled the right arm to follow after the new mark, keeping the left focused on the first. With the one quickly defeated, he re-assigned his full attention to the second. Immediately as he started the pursuit, the target discarded its gun-out of ammo no doubt-and proceeded in a backwards-evasive maneuver. As the gap closed, the opponent drew a melee weapon and lunged forward, but one well aimed shot and the thrusting limb was blown off, leaving the quarry dumbfounded and helpless while a few more quick turns and blows amputate the remainder of the machine’s extremities. In the blink of an eye there were two quick shots to the head, and it was lights out.
Three more bogeys closed in with a volley of medium ranged missiles. Straight up he flew, easily avoiding the attack that instead honed on their already defeated comrade. He took advantage of the day’s bright sun, hovering up precisely to where his shadow fell on the enemies, blinding them to the inevitable attack. It gave him just the time he needed to switch to his own, more powerful, mid-range rifle. Three more shots, and the three remaining enemies on the field were gone. The way was clear and his mission was complete-in just under a minute, according to the once more calm display information. With a self-assured smirk, he fled to the rendezvous point as the next phase of the mission began.
-----
As he came back into full consciousness he sighed. The memory told him hardly anything, but it was none the less a relief.
However, the fact that everywhere he could see inside his flat was now covered about waist height in stuffed animals, was not a relief. They spilled over on top of him in the futon, and he just shook his head. For now, he supposed it was one way to keep warm. He'd have to deal with it in the morning.
OOC Notes:
Memory includes Touch/Sight
Scene here, timestamp 0:00 to 0:57.
Just as he had with his first memory, he situated himself comfortably on the futon before diving in. Somehow a stab of paranoia in the back of his mind, probably implanted by Gene, had him glad that he was ready to ignore everything for a bit and drift off to sleep right after the memory- whatever it may end up being. This way if it was something too heavy he would have time to recuperate before the long day ahead of dealing with more snow.
With a low, calm breath he shut his eyes and reached in to grasp the crystal.
-----
A subtlest cloud of smoke and dust obscured the visuals on the display screens, but it wasn’t enough to form any kind of detriment. For a moment he just sat there, scanning over the scene and the display information, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his machine was being bombarded with ammunition; the wing-like shields were doing their job, and there was not the slightest bit of turbulence from the bombardment. It was a little ridiculous how care-free the situation seemed, as he even noticed the clear blue sky in the midst of this war zone.
After what was apparently a complete survey of the situation, he bared down on the controls, leaning forward with a wind of confidence that couldn’t even be broken by the sudden force bearing down on him from the propellant motion. Forward he flew, still close to the ground, towards the half-dozen mobile suits that continued to fire on him. It was futile. Whooshing through a cloud of smoke with a sudden turn, a flick of a wrist and squeeze of the trigger sent one of the opposing suits backwards, immediately mangled and incapacitated. Sliding in from its left rear, another bogey maneuvered to attack, but the movement was all too predictable. He trained on him, easily following the advancement with both of his small arm guns. It was a newer model than the previous, and was holding up surprisingly well against his fire, but it wouldn’t last.
A rain of shots continued to barrage him from all sides, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted an incoming enemy from the rear. But his lips only curled up in a smirk. There was no need to focus on only one target at a time. He widened up his weapon’s stance and controlled the right arm to follow after the new mark, keeping the left focused on the first. With the one quickly defeated, he re-assigned his full attention to the second. Immediately as he started the pursuit, the target discarded its gun-out of ammo no doubt-and proceeded in a backwards-evasive maneuver. As the gap closed, the opponent drew a melee weapon and lunged forward, but one well aimed shot and the thrusting limb was blown off, leaving the quarry dumbfounded and helpless while a few more quick turns and blows amputate the remainder of the machine’s extremities. In the blink of an eye there were two quick shots to the head, and it was lights out.
Three more bogeys closed in with a volley of medium ranged missiles. Straight up he flew, easily avoiding the attack that instead honed on their already defeated comrade. He took advantage of the day’s bright sun, hovering up precisely to where his shadow fell on the enemies, blinding them to the inevitable attack. It gave him just the time he needed to switch to his own, more powerful, mid-range rifle. Three more shots, and the three remaining enemies on the field were gone. The way was clear and his mission was complete-in just under a minute, according to the once more calm display information. With a self-assured smirk, he fled to the rendezvous point as the next phase of the mission began.
-----
As he came back into full consciousness he sighed. The memory told him hardly anything, but it was none the less a relief.
However, the fact that everywhere he could see inside his flat was now covered about waist height in stuffed animals, was not a relief. They spilled over on top of him in the futon, and he just shook his head. For now, he supposed it was one way to keep warm. He'd have to deal with it in the morning.
OOC Notes:
Memory includes Touch/Sight
Scene here, timestamp 0:00 to 0:57.