Without a brother {Completed, Closed]
Characters: Simon the digger
Setting: Entrance room
Time: Day 002, shortly after Machi entered the greenhouse.
Summary: Simon enters the house
Warnings: none yet!
Simon opened his eyes sleepily and managed about two sweeps of Lagann’s interior before the sensation in his nose came back. The stuffy pain made it fairly certain that he had slammed it in a crash; which, also stood to reason as to why he was flat against the canopy and not in his seat. He rubbed his nose and took a quick inventory of his wits.
“What happened”, the boy asked, not expecting an answer, but earning a quick “buu bu buy” from the pigmole in his pocket before it scurried up over his shoulder and back to where the core drill sat loosely fit in Lagann’s console.
“Boota?” Simon watched him curiously; he was never sure just what went on in Boota’s mind, but he often had some pretty good ideas. With a “squeh” Boota pushed down on the key and sealed it further into place, replacing the matte white of Lagann’s canopy with a panoramic image it the outside.
It was alien, imposing, almost perverse, flat on all sides, spacious and sparse, white on the floor and white on the roof… Was this a built room? He had seen a few briefly before, but they were all full of ammunition and machinery. This though, this was something else entirely. Not only wasn’t it dug out of the earth, it was pretty, it was -what was the word- elegant! Simon stared in awe at the impression it made, barely budging before Boota stripped the core drill from its seat in the terminal and the canopy collapsed out from under him, dropping the digger about 3 inches, hitting the marble with an even slap. His awe interrupted, the realization began to take hold. “Where am I” the boy pondered aloud, but Boota gave no answer.
Setting: Entrance room
Time: Day 002, shortly after Machi entered the greenhouse.
Summary: Simon enters the house
Warnings: none yet!
Simon opened his eyes sleepily and managed about two sweeps of Lagann’s interior before the sensation in his nose came back. The stuffy pain made it fairly certain that he had slammed it in a crash; which, also stood to reason as to why he was flat against the canopy and not in his seat. He rubbed his nose and took a quick inventory of his wits.
“What happened”, the boy asked, not expecting an answer, but earning a quick “buu bu buy” from the pigmole in his pocket before it scurried up over his shoulder and back to where the core drill sat loosely fit in Lagann’s console.
“Boota?” Simon watched him curiously; he was never sure just what went on in Boota’s mind, but he often had some pretty good ideas. With a “squeh” Boota pushed down on the key and sealed it further into place, replacing the matte white of Lagann’s canopy with a panoramic image it the outside.
It was alien, imposing, almost perverse, flat on all sides, spacious and sparse, white on the floor and white on the roof… Was this a built room? He had seen a few briefly before, but they were all full of ammunition and machinery. This though, this was something else entirely. Not only wasn’t it dug out of the earth, it was pretty, it was -what was the word- elegant! Simon stared in awe at the impression it made, barely budging before Boota stripped the core drill from its seat in the terminal and the canopy collapsed out from under him, dropping the digger about 3 inches, hitting the marble with an even slap. His awe interrupted, the realization began to take hold. “Where am I” the boy pondered aloud, but Boota gave no answer.