When Palette's signal bleeped in Axl's audials, he swung forward from his seat so hard he almost knocked it over. He dashed down the hall to the elevator and wedged himself into a packed car at the last moment before the doors closed. "Sorry, emergency!" he explained, to the grumbles of the others he shoved in front of.
Finally, it was ready! He fidgeted in place and tapped his foot against the floor and drummed his fingers against his elbows, eyes lifted to watch the elevator display count down. "C'mon, c'mon... hurry up!"
It was all he could do to endure the several stops and starts the elevator made; as the car began to empty out, he sidled toward the control panel and began to press the 'door close' button. This earned him some dirty looks, but he ignored them.
At long last, he reached the basement floor, where Palette's R&D staff had set up shop. He tumbled out of the elevator all smiles, and cleared his throat as he went through the sliding doors into the bright, airy space.
Palette greeted him, and he raised a hand in response, but his gaze swirled across the room and locked solidly on a chunky black and grey weapon lying on a counter. "Is that it?" He breathed, and made a beeline for it. Palette frumped and followed him, and she was saying -something- or other, but he wasn't really listening. All his attention was focused on the weapon.
It was beautiful. It was almost as tall as he was. Behind him, Pallette was saying something about its specs- some limitation. Slow rate of fire, or something. Axl went to take it off the counter. His hands carefully lifted the launcher with reverence, and the weight of it was such that his knees wobbled briefly before his autogyros compensated for the extra load. He propped it over his shoulder, took hold of the firing hilt and grinned from ear to ear.
"What's it called again?"
Palette hmphed, petulant, hands on her hips. "I told you, we're calling it Blast Launcher. Honestly, the way you get when we give you a new weapon, it's kinda scary! Have you even heard anything I've said about it?"
Axl nodded, eyes roving up and down the length of the barrel against his shoulder, and moved his hand from the firing hilt to stroke the length of it gently. "Sure. Fires slow, can't penetrate some armors, blah blah blah. Can I go away with it now?"
Palette threw up her hands in frustration. "You guys and your guns! Whatever!"
"And can you toss me that bottle of polish over there, too?" Axl was already heading for the door.
Can't wait to get you back to my room.