Just for the record? Spoon's armor is highly creepy. As well it should be, once having been a fucking xenomorph. Polished, articulated, and built to slide in and out of his werewolf's form (or, in certain areas, snap apart along pre-built joints), it doesn't look much like the slimy thing it was when alive.
This doesn't mean it doesn't still look like a creepy fucking suit of armor made out of a dead alien. "Oi, Coop. I'm ready."
The Darth Sarge jokes just aren't going to work by comparison, especially since Wells took the precaution of scouring the bronze paint away and going back to the mottled green and brown camo on his own getup. "D'you know, this is likely to be the first time in months I'm gonna wear this fucking helmet?" Wells says to both the lads at the table. "Breathing filters built into the bits up front. Hallo, Cooper."
Spoon's got his mask, which still doesn't have everything it needs (he's got to get the yautja specific stuff from the Clan, still, and that's not going to happen until Christine goes back there), under his arm. The sensors that Ray built for him, and the life-support system, are in there.
He'll at least look a proper yautja...a really short proper yautja...when he's got it on.
"Kill yourself a kainde amedha and I'll show you how this was made." Spoon promises cheerfully.
Comments 7
This doesn't mean it doesn't still look like a creepy fucking suit of armor made out of a dead alien. "Oi, Coop. I'm ready."
Reply
Reply
"One day I've got to get m'self something a little better than standard issue."
He shakes his head.
"Hallo."
Reply
He'll at least look a proper yautja...a really short proper yautja...when he's got it on.
"Kill yourself a kainde amedha and I'll show you how this was made." Spoon promises cheerfully.
Reply
Leave a comment