Difference between revisions of "Gateclosing 101 - RPLOG"
From Flexible Survival
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6/2/2022 | 6/2/2022 | ||
=Log= | =Log= | ||
| − | <div></div><div title="Magnus" style="margin-top:2em"> T'is high noon somewhere in the world. Right here, actually, on a lonely, dusty road leading out of the city and at great distance from the safety of the nanite server. Even with clear skies overhead, the sun offered little reprieve from winter's biting winds. All that extended beyond this point were dead wastes and barren field, untouched by the hand of progress, ruined and mostly reclaimed by nature. It had been over a decade since the nanites hit, and while Fairhaven had recovered from a post apocalyptic dump into a somewhat functioning metropolis, the same can not be said about pretty much anywhere else. All that remained now of the abandoned old world were ruins, consumed by ivy and pretty much reduced to rubble. Such harsh terrain necessitated mores of transport more suited to traversing the wildlands, and thankfully the group arriving here to follow up on their job description would be met with something rather unexpected. Was... was that a humvee? By all that's holy and otherwise, it really is! Looking rather dusty with a dent here and there, the machine appears exactly as one might expect to see it in the world that once was! Leaned over its opened hood was a familiar feline, his body covered by an unbuttoned brown leather duster, black undershirt beneath and loose camo cargo pants. Around his neck remained woven the same scarf he seemed so attached-to, its fabric guarding his neck, ends tucked under his duster to protect against unnecessary stains. He looks quite busy, perhaps verifying that their transport was all set for the journey ahead~</div> <div title="Randel" style="margin-top:2em">Walking up to the transport is a human man that is about six feet tall with a fit and trim build, looking to be about 160-180 pounds, belaying the fact that his dense nanite-altered body makes him more around 250 pounds before taking into account worn gear. He is Caucasian, with a short-cut head of dirty blond hair, the kind that tends to darken with age, and a clean shaven face. Even though his head is exposed, he doesn't seem phased at all by the bitter winter winds. His ancestry, other than being mostly from Western Europe, is hard to pin down, but it has given him a handsome face with a confidant looking jaw line. It is almost a shame it is never seen, given it is often masked or overridden by most nanite infection forms. Lastly his eyes are a dark green and brown, which currently look unenthusiastic about the mission at hand, though it does brighten up when seeing a working vehicle has been aquired. Gear-wise, he is wearing a long coat over a thick long sleeve shirt and cargo pants, pockets already stuffed with items, with a pair of sturdy boots; with the expectation of having to walk all day. On top of his clothes, is a Zephyr standard issue armored vest, with a common issue pistol holstered on one side and a med-kit on the other side. His well-used and maintained equipment pack is on his back, and his ID badge is pinned to his armor, indicating it is the Zephyr field agent Randel, who is in rare form today, being human for once. "Hey, what's up?" he says to the feline, smirking in amusement, and curious to see Magnus' reaction to his uncharacteristically normal form.</div> <div title="Yejian" style="margin-top:2em"> There's a bit of pride and warmth that swells in Yejian's heart every time she sees that scarf. But, today was a trip of business, not casual visiting. The lapine knight wanders down the road, without her spear today. She preferred a slightly different piece of equipment for her trips outside of the bubble, as evident when she draws near Magnus and plants her shield lightly in the ground and leans forward. "Soooo. Where are we headed?"</div> <div title="Hreit" style="margin-top:2em">A canid of several varieties approaches. A water dragon watching on and finally turning to return home. Here is Hreit walking on two, not four. Yet ever looking a bit haggard, or worse for wear. A jacket that's seen better days remains white, edges trimmed in blackness, from fire and heat. Covered in layer after layer of pinned bandages in lieu of thicker clothing. Like a few layers of hand made garments, even partly covering her hands. Her feet covererd in thicker leather strips this time around. Three handles sticking up at her back. Carefully settled in between her back and the small pack settled there to prevent them moving about or wobbling. She seems, a bit jumpy, eying everyone that's already here. Also approaching magnus, though seeming a bit unnerved at something. Not that her own appearance wasn't unnerving itself already. "I think I'd talked to you about this job on the comms?" She asked openly, holding up a highly customized phone-like device that still has Zephyr marked on it. Looking like it belonged to someone a bit higher up that totem pole.</div> <div title="Crypto" style="margin-top:2em">Crypto carries a full pack of weapons and utility items for the journey ahead. Beyond that, Crypto is so nondescript it would be forgivable to completely forget his presence. He walks in the footsteps of other people almost out of habit as he makes his way to the humvee. He glances towards the group, puts is stuff down, and waits for further instructions.</div> <div title="Moose" style="margin-top:2em">Moose eases himself off a big, rumbling motorcycle driven by another deer, nearly identical to himself. "You sure you're okay, Pops?" the driving stag asks, different from his father only in being a little softer around the edges. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>The mustached stag waves off his kid and lights up a thick cigar. "I can handle myself, Junior," he says gruffly, though fondly and stalks toward the waiting humvee, ornaments and charms rattling in his antlers. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>Moose is not a moose, he is a big, dad-bodded white tail deer with a thick, luxurious, white mustache tinged with leaf green at the edges. He fills the plaid shirt he wears nicely with a layer of softness over thick, working muscle. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>He takes the cigar from his lips with thick fingers and blows a ring of bluish smoke away from the group. "Moose," he growls, "How can I help?"</div> | + | <div></div><div title="Magnus" style="margin-top:2em"> T'is high noon somewhere in the world. Right here, actually, on a lonely, dusty road leading out of the city and at great distance from the safety of the nanite server. Even with clear skies overhead, the sun offered little reprieve from winter's biting winds. All that extended beyond this point were dead wastes and barren field, untouched by the hand of progress, ruined and mostly reclaimed by nature. It had been over a decade since the nanites hit, and while Fairhaven had recovered from a post apocalyptic dump into a somewhat functioning metropolis, the same can not be said about pretty much anywhere else. All that remained now of the abandoned old world were ruins, consumed by ivy and pretty much reduced to rubble. Such harsh terrain necessitated mores of transport more suited to traversing the wildlands, and thankfully the group arriving here to follow up on their job description would be met with something rather unexpected. Was... was that a humvee? By all that's holy and otherwise, it really is! Looking rather dusty with a dent here and there, the machine appears exactly as one might expect to see it in the world that once was! Leaned over its opened hood was a familiar feline, his body covered by an unbuttoned brown leather duster, black undershirt beneath and loose camo cargo pants. Around his neck remained woven the same scarf he seemed so attached-to, its fabric guarding his neck, ends tucked under his duster to protect against unnecessary stains. He looks quite busy, perhaps verifying that their transport was all set for the journey ahead~</div> <div title="Randel" style="margin-top:2em">Walking up to the transport is a human man that is about six feet tall with a fit and trim build, looking to be about 160-180 pounds, belaying the fact that his dense nanite-altered body makes him more around 250 pounds before taking into account worn gear. He is Caucasian, with a short-cut head of dirty blond hair, the kind that tends to darken with age, and a clean shaven face. Even though his head is exposed, he doesn't seem phased at all by the bitter winter winds. His ancestry, other than being mostly from Western Europe, is hard to pin down, but it has given him a handsome face with a confidant looking jaw line. It is almost a shame it is never seen, given it is often masked or overridden by most nanite infection forms. Lastly his eyes are a dark green and brown, which currently look unenthusiastic about the mission at hand, though it does brighten up when seeing a working vehicle has been aquired. Gear-wise, he is wearing a long coat over a thick long sleeve shirt and cargo pants, pockets already stuffed with items, with a pair of sturdy boots; with the expectation of having to walk all day. On top of his clothes, is a Zephyr standard issue armored vest, with a common issue pistol holstered on one side and a med-kit on the other side. His well-used and maintained equipment pack is on his back, and his ID badge is pinned to his armor, indicating it is the Zephyr field agent Randel, who is in rare form today, being human for once. "Hey, what's up?" he says to the feline, smirking in amusement, and curious to see Magnus' reaction to his uncharacteristically normal form.</div> <div title="Yejian" style="margin-top:2em"> There's a bit of pride and warmth that swells in Yejian's heart every time she sees that scarf. But, today was a trip of business, not casual visiting. The lapine knight wanders down the road, without her spear today. She preferred a slightly different piece of equipment for her trips outside of the bubble, as evident when she draws near Magnus and plants her shield lightly in the ground and leans forward. "Soooo. Where are we headed?"</div> <div title="Hreit" style="margin-top:2em">A canid of several varieties approaches. A water dragon watching on and finally turning to return home. Here is Hreit walking on two, not four. Yet ever looking a bit haggard, or worse for wear. A jacket that's seen better days remains white, edges trimmed in blackness, from fire and heat. Covered in layer after layer of pinned bandages in lieu of thicker clothing. Like a few layers of hand made garments, even partly covering her hands. Her feet covererd in thicker leather strips this time around. Three handles sticking up at her back. Carefully settled in between her back and the small pack settled there to prevent them moving about or wobbling. She seems, a bit jumpy, eying everyone that's already here. Also approaching magnus, though seeming a bit unnerved at something. Not that her own appearance wasn't unnerving itself already. "I think I'd talked to you about this job on the comms?" She asked openly, holding up a highly customized phone-like device that still has Zephyr marked on it. Looking like it belonged to someone a bit higher up that totem pole.</div> <div title="Crypto" style="margin-top:2em">Crypto carries a full pack of weapons and utility items for the journey ahead. Beyond that, Crypto is so nondescript it would be forgivable to completely forget his presence. He walks in the footsteps of other people almost out of habit as he makes his way to the humvee. He glances towards the group, puts is stuff down, and waits for further instructions.</div> <div title="Moose" style="margin-top:2em">Moose eases himself off a big, rumbling motorcycle driven by another deer, nearly identical to himself. "You sure you're okay, Pops?" the driving stag asks, different from his father only in being a little softer around the edges. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>The mustached stag waves off his kid and lights up a thick cigar. "I can handle myself, Junior," he says gruffly, though fondly and stalks toward the waiting humvee, ornaments and charms rattling in his antlers. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>Moose is not a moose, he is a big, dad-bodded white tail deer with a thick, luxurious, white mustache tinged with leaf green at the edges. He fills the plaid shirt he wears nicely with a layer of softness over thick, working muscle. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>He takes the cigar from his lips with thick fingers and blows a ring of bluish smoke away from the group. "Moose," he growls, "How can I help?"</div><div title="Magnus" style="margin-top:2em"> *clank clank* The feline looked quite preoccupied, tossing a wire over one shoulder and reaching into his pocket to rummage around for a moment, then pulling free a new one and gripping it between his teeth. He fidgets with something else for a little while, huffing the words "Shoddy Prommie Tech..." under his breath. He then places the new wire in place and produces a lot of sparks somehow, as though he were welding something without using a welding kit! Well, he certainly wasn't holding one. When approached however, he'd cast a glance over one shoulder, then back towards what he's working on, then immediately does a double-take at Randel. Magnus blinks a few times then turns around fully and tilts his head a bit, confused as to whom it was he was being addressed-by. "Randy?" Well, the nose knows, but the form was not one he'd expect the other to wear. "Randel, from Zephyr's head doctors? Uhhh, well, I mean you smell like him, but..." Magnus turns one hand around in the air and glances off towards the sky. "You don't look... I mean, yeah." <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> The feline then raises one hand and clears his throat. "We'll get to the mission briefing as soon as everyone arrives. Speaking of which." There's the all-too familiar face that could melt his heart with but a single smile. When Yejian approaches him and leans her shield against the humvee, he wraps his arms around her and applies the warmest of hugs. "Surprise to no one, here you are again. At this rate I should just give you notices in advance when I am plotting one of these excursions. Thank you, for being here for me. It means more than you know." He'd reluctantly slide his arms off of her, then turn towards the others arriving at the scene. Magnus leans back a little too suddenly and *CLONK* hits his head on the still raised humvee hood, causing the support latch to release, and then *BONK* send the metal down to hit him again right on the noggen. He mutters a silent cuss, then closes the hood, chuckles awkwardly at those around him, and moves to climb atop the vehicle. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Now standing on an elevated platform, he clears his throat and raises his voice. "I see a lot of familiar faces here today. This is good. I know for a fact that the lot of you can be relied-upon, however it needs saying that, as you've been briefed already, this excursion into the wastelands will occupy the better part of two days. I sincerely hope you've all made peace and settled your affairs for the duration, and beyond in accommodation for any roadblocks we may encounter, of which I expect many as is the case with venturing beyond the bubble. I've already plotted a route for us, and we won't be expected to engage in combat as you already know. However, a wise man warned me when I was still fresh out my mother's womb, to expect the unexpected and never anything less. I encourage yu all to do the same! Now, whenever you are all set, please take your place in the transport. There are six seats, pick whichever you find most comfortable. I will be your driver for this encounter." Magnus clasps his paws together, then climbs back down from the hood of the vehicle. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> He then turns towards Hreit and greets her properly with a nod and a smile. "Yeah, I am honestly surprised you chose to do a followup on this. Regardless, you've already proven several skillsets that would be quite useful. Whenever you're ready..." he'd motion towards their transport. Those feline eyes dart towards Moose, a brow rising as a faint memory of distant past crosses Magnus' mind. Something about this one overstepping a few boundaries... Magnus crosses his arms and remains still for a moment. "I don't know lad! It depends on what abilities you bring to the team! Big fella like you though would certainly find a way to prove themselves out in the wasteland. My only request, perhaps avoid filling the humvee with smoke. Just as an act of consideration towards the rest of the team. Else, whenever you're ready!" Magnus nods and extends one hand to shake with the large mutant. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Whether or not Moose accepts this, after the exchange is over, his glance wanders towards Crypto, and all the gear he seems to be carrying. "Well, looks like you came prepared. That's good, hopefully we won't be needing all this out there, but t'is an inescapable fact that one is better off having something and not needing it, rather than the other way around. Welcome to the team, whenever you are ready, kindly take your spot in the transport." His eyes gloss over the various agents in his group. "This is a lot of weight... the humvee should be able to bear the load, thankfully we don't have any added cargo to worry ourselves with, and the damn thing has been modified to accommodate the more heavyset of folks. So then!" Magnus moves over towards the driver's seat door, and plops his ass down behind the steering wheel. He turns the key, prompting the engine to initially hiss, then rumble, and roar to life. Road trip time~</div> <div title="Randel" style="margin-top:2em">Randel's smirk turns into a stifled chucking when seeing Magnus' reaction, not expecting such a flustered response. He quickly adds, "Yeah, the scent is correct, and I shift to best fit the situation. If I'm going to be stuck in a form while away from the Bubble, where humans are the norm, then I'm grabbing a body that's the most useful." When seeing the comedic head bumping with the vehicle hood, he gives the large feline a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but then holds it there for a second as he uses his nanite ability to check if he is actually aright; a typical habit for the nanite augmented doctor. After a long moment of focusing, he steps back, looking a little stunned, as if shocked by something. He pats a gain, and says, "Just checking your head. You're fine. But I think I got a bit of a feedback from that electrical power you have." <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>Then he backs up into position for the briefing, seeing familiar faces and few new ones; looking them over casually to size up the group his is working with for the next couple days. When told about the length he sighs regrettably and states, "Yeah, The Big Z is used to me going off on my own, as well as my mate back home. Still hate being out of the bubble though, for any length of time." A satisfied smirk comes to his face and adds, "As for my desk job, they can handle things for a while without me. And hopefully realize how important I am." <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>When seating is being assigned, Randel stands back and watches, seeing how people will puzzle themselves into it first, not seeming to mind where he goes in seating order.</div> |
Revision as of 23:28, 6 February 2022
Participants
Date
6/2/2022
Log
T'is high noon somewhere in the world. Right here, actually, on a lonely, dusty road leading out of the city and at great distance from the safety of the nanite server. Even with clear skies overhead, the sun offered little reprieve from winter's biting winds. All that extended beyond this point were dead wastes and barren field, untouched by the hand of progress, ruined and mostly reclaimed by nature. It had been over a decade since the nanites hit, and while Fairhaven had recovered from a post apocalyptic dump into a somewhat functioning metropolis, the same can not be said about pretty much anywhere else. All that remained now of the abandoned old world were ruins, consumed by ivy and pretty much reduced to rubble. Such harsh terrain necessitated mores of transport more suited to traversing the wildlands, and thankfully the group arriving here to follow up on their job description would be met with something rather unexpected. Was... was that a humvee? By all that's holy and otherwise, it really is! Looking rather dusty with a dent here and there, the machine appears exactly as one might expect to see it in the world that once was! Leaned over its opened hood was a familiar feline, his body covered by an unbuttoned brown leather duster, black undershirt beneath and loose camo cargo pants. Around his neck remained woven the same scarf he seemed so attached-to, its fabric guarding his neck, ends tucked under his duster to protect against unnecessary stains. He looks quite busy, perhaps verifying that their transport was all set for the journey ahead~
Walking up to the transport is a human man that is about six feet tall with a fit and trim build, looking to be about 160-180 pounds, belaying the fact that his dense nanite-altered body makes him more around 250 pounds before taking into account worn gear. He is Caucasian, with a short-cut head of dirty blond hair, the kind that tends to darken with age, and a clean shaven face. Even though his head is exposed, he doesn't seem phased at all by the bitter winter winds. His ancestry, other than being mostly from Western Europe, is hard to pin down, but it has given him a handsome face with a confidant looking jaw line. It is almost a shame it is never seen, given it is often masked or overridden by most nanite infection forms. Lastly his eyes are a dark green and brown, which currently look unenthusiastic about the mission at hand, though it does brighten up when seeing a working vehicle has been aquired. Gear-wise, he is wearing a long coat over a thick long sleeve shirt and cargo pants, pockets already stuffed with items, with a pair of sturdy boots; with the expectation of having to walk all day. On top of his clothes, is a Zephyr standard issue armored vest, with a common issue pistol holstered on one side and a med-kit on the other side. His well-used and maintained equipment pack is on his back, and his ID badge is pinned to his armor, indicating it is the Zephyr field agent Randel, who is in rare form today, being human for once. "Hey, what's up?" he says to the feline, smirking in amusement, and curious to see Magnus' reaction to his uncharacteristically normal form.
There's a bit of pride and warmth that swells in Yejian's heart every time she sees that scarf. But, today was a trip of business, not casual visiting. The lapine knight wanders down the road, without her spear today. She preferred a slightly different piece of equipment for her trips outside of the bubble, as evident when she draws near Magnus and plants her shield lightly in the ground and leans forward. "Soooo. Where are we headed?"
A canid of several varieties approaches. A water dragon watching on and finally turning to return home. Here is Hreit walking on two, not four. Yet ever looking a bit haggard, or worse for wear. A jacket that's seen better days remains white, edges trimmed in blackness, from fire and heat. Covered in layer after layer of pinned bandages in lieu of thicker clothing. Like a few layers of hand made garments, even partly covering her hands. Her feet covererd in thicker leather strips this time around. Three handles sticking up at her back. Carefully settled in between her back and the small pack settled there to prevent them moving about or wobbling. She seems, a bit jumpy, eying everyone that's already here. Also approaching magnus, though seeming a bit unnerved at something. Not that her own appearance wasn't unnerving itself already. "I think I'd talked to you about this job on the comms?" She asked openly, holding up a highly customized phone-like device that still has Zephyr marked on it. Looking like it belonged to someone a bit higher up that totem pole.
Crypto carries a full pack of weapons and utility items for the journey ahead. Beyond that, Crypto is so nondescript it would be forgivable to completely forget his presence. He walks in the footsteps of other people almost out of habit as he makes his way to the humvee. He glances towards the group, puts is stuff down, and waits for further instructions.
Moose eases himself off a big, rumbling motorcycle driven by another deer, nearly identical to himself. "You sure you're okay, Pops?" the driving stag asks, different from his father only in being a little softer around the edges. The mustached stag waves off his kid and lights up a thick cigar. "I can handle myself, Junior," he says gruffly, though fondly and stalks toward the waiting humvee, ornaments and charms rattling in his antlers. Moose is not a moose, he is a big, dad-bodded white tail deer with a thick, luxurious, white mustache tinged with leaf green at the edges. He fills the plaid shirt he wears nicely with a layer of softness over thick, working muscle. He takes the cigar from his lips with thick fingers and blows a ring of bluish smoke away from the group. "Moose," he growls, "How can I help?"
*clank clank* The feline looked quite preoccupied, tossing a wire over one shoulder and reaching into his pocket to rummage around for a moment, then pulling free a new one and gripping it between his teeth. He fidgets with something else for a little while, huffing the words "Shoddy Prommie Tech..." under his breath. He then places the new wire in place and produces a lot of sparks somehow, as though he were welding something without using a welding kit! Well, he certainly wasn't holding one. When approached however, he'd cast a glance over one shoulder, then back towards what he's working on, then immediately does a double-take at Randel. Magnus blinks a few times then turns around fully and tilts his head a bit, confused as to whom it was he was being addressed-by. "Randy?" Well, the nose knows, but the form was not one he'd expect the other to wear. "Randel, from Zephyr's head doctors? Uhhh, well, I mean you smell like him, but..." Magnus turns one hand around in the air and glances off towards the sky. "You don't look... I mean, yeah." The feline then raises one hand and clears his throat. "We'll get to the mission briefing as soon as everyone arrives. Speaking of which." There's the all-too familiar face that could melt his heart with but a single smile. When Yejian approaches him and leans her shield against the humvee, he wraps his arms around her and applies the warmest of hugs. "Surprise to no one, here you are again. At this rate I should just give you notices in advance when I am plotting one of these excursions. Thank you, for being here for me. It means more than you know." He'd reluctantly slide his arms off of her, then turn towards the others arriving at the scene. Magnus leans back a little too suddenly and *CLONK* hits his head on the still raised humvee hood, causing the support latch to release, and then *BONK* send the metal down to hit him again right on the noggen. He mutters a silent cuss, then closes the hood, chuckles awkwardly at those around him, and moves to climb atop the vehicle. Now standing on an elevated platform, he clears his throat and raises his voice. "I see a lot of familiar faces here today. This is good. I know for a fact that the lot of you can be relied-upon, however it needs saying that, as you've been briefed already, this excursion into the wastelands will occupy the better part of two days. I sincerely hope you've all made peace and settled your affairs for the duration, and beyond in accommodation for any roadblocks we may encounter, of which I expect many as is the case with venturing beyond the bubble. I've already plotted a route for us, and we won't be expected to engage in combat as you already know. However, a wise man warned me when I was still fresh out my mother's womb, to expect the unexpected and never anything less. I encourage yu all to do the same! Now, whenever you are all set, please take your place in the transport. There are six seats, pick whichever you find most comfortable. I will be your driver for this encounter." Magnus clasps his paws together, then climbs back down from the hood of the vehicle. He then turns towards Hreit and greets her properly with a nod and a smile. "Yeah, I am honestly surprised you chose to do a followup on this. Regardless, you've already proven several skillsets that would be quite useful. Whenever you're ready..." he'd motion towards their transport. Those feline eyes dart towards Moose, a brow rising as a faint memory of distant past crosses Magnus' mind. Something about this one overstepping a few boundaries... Magnus crosses his arms and remains still for a moment. "I don't know lad! It depends on what abilities you bring to the team! Big fella like you though would certainly find a way to prove themselves out in the wasteland. My only request, perhaps avoid filling the humvee with smoke. Just as an act of consideration towards the rest of the team. Else, whenever you're ready!" Magnus nods and extends one hand to shake with the large mutant. Whether or not Moose accepts this, after the exchange is over, his glance wanders towards Crypto, and all the gear he seems to be carrying. "Well, looks like you came prepared. That's good, hopefully we won't be needing all this out there, but t'is an inescapable fact that one is better off having something and not needing it, rather than the other way around. Welcome to the team, whenever you are ready, kindly take your spot in the transport." His eyes gloss over the various agents in his group. "This is a lot of weight... the humvee should be able to bear the load, thankfully we don't have any added cargo to worry ourselves with, and the damn thing has been modified to accommodate the more heavyset of folks. So then!" Magnus moves over towards the driver's seat door, and plops his ass down behind the steering wheel. He turns the key, prompting the engine to initially hiss, then rumble, and roar to life. Road trip time~
Randel's smirk turns into a stifled chucking when seeing Magnus' reaction, not expecting such a flustered response. He quickly adds, "Yeah, the scent is correct, and I shift to best fit the situation. If I'm going to be stuck in a form while away from the Bubble, where humans are the norm, then I'm grabbing a body that's the most useful." When seeing the comedic head bumping with the vehicle hood, he gives the large feline a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but then holds it there for a second as he uses his nanite ability to check if he is actually aright; a typical habit for the nanite augmented doctor. After a long moment of focusing, he steps back, looking a little stunned, as if shocked by something. He pats a gain, and says, "Just checking your head. You're fine. But I think I got a bit of a feedback from that electrical power you have." Then he backs up into position for the briefing, seeing familiar faces and few new ones; looking them over casually to size up the group his is working with for the next couple days. When told about the length he sighs regrettably and states, "Yeah, The Big Z is used to me going off on my own, as well as my mate back home. Still hate being out of the bubble though, for any length of time." A satisfied smirk comes to his face and adds, "As for my desk job, they can handle things for a while without me. And hopefully realize how important I am." When seating is being assigned, Randel stands back and watches, seeing how people will puzzle themselves into it first, not seeming to mind where he goes in seating order.
