[THREAD] Meeting on the 21st Floor

[maskemotion]

Who: Carmine (red_gear) and Valentine (maskemotion)
What: Valentine going to Carmine's room with food! And to discuss things, like the getting-food-from-the-kitchen schedual. Along with other things.
When: April 2nd, sometime in the evening/night, I reckon.
Where: Carmine's room. 2104
Rating: PG (but will change if needed)

Comments

[red_gear]

Carmine jumped up from his seat behind a small desk in his room. He had only just finished reading Valentine's last post to his journal entry when the knock came at his door. Donning his helmet quickly (remembering what Valentine said about faces--the soldier's room was about the only place he'd ever take off his helm), Carmine stepped up to the door cautiously. He was always a mix between cautious and flat-out blunt on the battlefield, but today he'd opt for the former more than the latter.

Holding his pistol in his hand behind his back, the COG soldier slowly opened his door and peered out. When the sight of a masked man in white robes greeted his vision, Carmine jumped to excitement, a large grin crossing his face beneath the helmet despite his guest not being able to see it. He opened the door more and waved Valentine inside, forgetting he had the gun in his hand. "Hi! Valentine, right? Nice to meet you!"

[maskemotion]

Valentine didn't know what a gun was anyway, so even if he did see it, he blissfully ignored it.

"And you're Carmine, then," his voice was very, very distinctly Irish. The masked man had an Irish accent, even though there was no Ireland in his world. "Nice to meet ya! Nice mask you got there. Er, helmet, really."

He entered in the room and peered around for a moment before tossing the sack on the nearest chair. "I brought about half or so of the food I grabbed earlier today, I think it'll be enough anyway."

Another interesting, and very obvious thing... was that Valentine was also gesturing a lot as he spoke. He was a man that spoke with his hands.

"Turns out me room's the one across from yours. 2103," he vaguely pointed towards the Carmine's own door.

[red_gear]

Carmine noticed the gun he was waving around like a complete idiot and promptly slid it behind his back again. Valentine didn't seem to notice and for that Carmine was thankful. He didn't want to scare off his first new friend.

Slipping over to his desk after closing the door, the private set the gun in a drawer sneakily before glancing at the sack of food. "Thanks," he said absently, responding to Valentine's comment about his helm. He half-heartedly reached out a hand towards the sack when he heard about the room. "Oh! Well, that's convenient! Being so close, that is." He started rummaging through the sack absently.

He glanced up to start and say something else when suddenly his stomach let out a low growl. He grinned sheepishly beneath his helmet. "Uhh, guess I'm hungrier than I thought. You mind if I snack while we talk?"

[maskemotion]

"Go ahead, I was going to do the same thing anyway."

He flopped down on another chair and put his hands into his robe's pockets, fishing out a couple of glowing red balls. He would have juggled, but he knew exactly what was going to happen. Still, the habit of playing with them wouldn't just disappear.

"Oh, yes, as I had written. The whole business with changable expressions! You see, back at home, everyone wears a mask. Well, the Queens don't, but I can never tell the difference between them because of it. Helena, me best mate, she didn't have a mask either and she just delighted in... doing that whole changable expression thing!" He paused and suddenly went somewhere else with the little conversation, "She wore little rabbits on her feet too."

Valentine had began idly trying to juggle, but with each attempt to catch one of the balls, it thudded on the floor and rolled off somewhere, forcing Valentine to chase after it.

"I mean, how can you tell if you're happy... or sad... or angry or what all if you don't have a mask?"

[red_gear]

"Very," Carmine replied truthfully. "It really does sound like something out of a fantasy novel. A really exciting one, mind you, but still fantasy. By 'fantasy' I mean fanciful, but not real. Imaginary. None of those things are real where I come from, except in fairy tales and other stories that aren't real." He paused, asked, "A flying tower? That sounds fun

[maskemotion]

"I know what a fantasy is," Valentine huffed indignantly. "To me, your world is the fantasy-type, what with all these 'guns' and 'imulsion' and things."

Valentine went over to the sack and grabbed an apple. It was hard not to try tossing it around, grabbing some other types of fruit and juggling them, but he kept his juggling in check. Food was for eating, after all, not juggling!

He took a bite from the apple and proceeded to talk - with the food still in his mouth. He didn't seem bothered by Carmine's finger-licking and all.

"Well, you don't seem to know very much about them, do you?" He idly pointed at Carmine with his apple-holding hand. "For all you know, that 'imulsion' stuff could have been like some sort of pudding for them. Chocolate pudding, maybe.

"And projectile weapon, huh? So basically, a big glorified bow? With... little tiny metal things instead of arrows."

[red_gear]

"No, I don't know much about them. They never gave us a chance, just attacked out of the blue. It wasn't very nice and I don't care to be nice back. We'll kill all the sons of bitches," he sounded quite bitter there at the end, a bit indignant. His eyes narrowed in his frustration and he half-glared at Valentine, although not particularly at him per se

[maskemotion]

"Don't get angry at me. I didn't make up the silly business of your world," He bit down on the apple again, then pointed at Carmine, "You should all solve your differences over something non-violent. Like chess. But not full-contact chess, people tend to get very hurt that way