09-11-2015, 10:43 AM
Drake eyed the new kid who had just kinda...you know...appeared outta nowhere. Based on how he looked, Drake was pretty sure this was Demetri. Jeltz had mentioned that another Institute member would be out here in the Steppes, but Drake hadn't expected them to be crossing paths. Whatever. It was nice to know that they would have each other's backs if stuff went to shit, but there was an equally large chance that Demetri was just passing through.
Drake lingered around the bunk rooms as Miranda made herself comfortable. He was tapping away on his UNI device when she asked him about dinner. At first Drake was tempted to ask why the Prime just didn't make her own food, but then again, there was something especially fulfilling about eating a home cooked meal using already existing ingredients. What was more important to Drake, however, were the gently hissing prosthetics that she had in place of arms. Now that her jacket was off, Drake could also see that her faceplate was actually hooked into her skin. Did she not have a normal mouth either? They locked eyes as she passed by him, and there was a depth held in the gaze. Nothing sort of mushy or romantic; Drake had not patience for that. But there was an understanding...an acknowledgement of a shared pain. Oh sure, amputees could be brave and broadcast their self-produced sense of security about their damaged bodies, but you never really quite got over it. It wasn't like having your tonsils or appendix removed...Drake was right handed and he only had a left hand. The smuggler shook his head and banished the heavy thoughts.
"Yeah, I'll grab summin'." Drake said, shrugging off his own jacket and satchel. The hipster also removed his hat, despite it being incredibly stylish. His own missing arm was much easier to notice with the jacket removed. The limb had been severed almost all the way up to the shoulder. Only a small stump, about three inches long, bounced listlessly with Drake's step. It was also heavily scarred, like it had been cut open multiple times...but then again, the right side of Drake's entire upper body was covered in vicious burn scars, so maybe it was nothing?
Drake sat at the table near the others of their small group after fetching a modest amount of food from where it was being served. A steamed root vegetable of some kind, nameless meat haunches, some canned corn. It was the food of a thrifty people, and Drake could respect that. It was cooked with skill and the seasoning was humble yet well suited to the different dishes. A large lava pit (for fucks sake) was bubbling away at the far end of the hall, serving as a sort of improvised fireplace. Drake supposed it made enough sense really; wood was probably a hard thing to come by around here. The dude with the black hair sure seemed chatty enough, and despite Drake's inherent dislike of big damn hero types, Zack was a pretty all right dude. Aside from the warrior, though, everyone else was pretty quiet. Drake didn't inherently have a problem with this, but something spurred him into speaking up.
"So uh...is Bowser's place close from here?" he asked, his words gradually getting more mumbled as the sentence went on. He was used to taunting and putting on airs of superiority. This sort of...genuine attempt at camaraderie thing was not his schtick...
Drake lingered around the bunk rooms as Miranda made herself comfortable. He was tapping away on his UNI device when she asked him about dinner. At first Drake was tempted to ask why the Prime just didn't make her own food, but then again, there was something especially fulfilling about eating a home cooked meal using already existing ingredients. What was more important to Drake, however, were the gently hissing prosthetics that she had in place of arms. Now that her jacket was off, Drake could also see that her faceplate was actually hooked into her skin. Did she not have a normal mouth either? They locked eyes as she passed by him, and there was a depth held in the gaze. Nothing sort of mushy or romantic; Drake had not patience for that. But there was an understanding...an acknowledgement of a shared pain. Oh sure, amputees could be brave and broadcast their self-produced sense of security about their damaged bodies, but you never really quite got over it. It wasn't like having your tonsils or appendix removed...Drake was right handed and he only had a left hand. The smuggler shook his head and banished the heavy thoughts.
"Yeah, I'll grab summin'." Drake said, shrugging off his own jacket and satchel. The hipster also removed his hat, despite it being incredibly stylish. His own missing arm was much easier to notice with the jacket removed. The limb had been severed almost all the way up to the shoulder. Only a small stump, about three inches long, bounced listlessly with Drake's step. It was also heavily scarred, like it had been cut open multiple times...but then again, the right side of Drake's entire upper body was covered in vicious burn scars, so maybe it was nothing?
Drake sat at the table near the others of their small group after fetching a modest amount of food from where it was being served. A steamed root vegetable of some kind, nameless meat haunches, some canned corn. It was the food of a thrifty people, and Drake could respect that. It was cooked with skill and the seasoning was humble yet well suited to the different dishes. A large lava pit (for fucks sake) was bubbling away at the far end of the hall, serving as a sort of improvised fireplace. Drake supposed it made enough sense really; wood was probably a hard thing to come by around here. The dude with the black hair sure seemed chatty enough, and despite Drake's inherent dislike of big damn hero types, Zack was a pretty all right dude. Aside from the warrior, though, everyone else was pretty quiet. Drake didn't inherently have a problem with this, but something spurred him into speaking up.
"So uh...is Bowser's place close from here?" he asked, his words gradually getting more mumbled as the sentence went on. He was used to taunting and putting on airs of superiority. This sort of...genuine attempt at camaraderie thing was not his schtick...
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued