/* Following Section by Bryan Amethyst */
Bryan's brow furrowed as his optics flew over a page of printed type. A stack of paper rose up above him on the table like an angry serpent poised to strike. Chewing his lip, he signed the bottom of it. Just before finishing the last letter in his name, his eye caught something strange on the paper. Looking in more closely, he saw that the pattern in the paper's print was altered in one spot. The spot in question was a number of days. Bryan frowned, then finished signing his name.
"Hey! Raize! C'mere!" he called over the din in the pub. As the bronze-colored reploid approached, he waved the paper at him. "Know what this is?" he asked.
His subordiante nodded. "An authorization form for leave." He smiled innocuously.
"An authorization form for YOUR next period of leave." The Judge treated him with an appraising look. "And I don't need to ask you what this is, I suppose," he said, indicating his signature.
A hopeful look sprung onto the 13th Unit Member's expression.
"Yeah... my signature," Bryan said, looking at the form again. He glanced at his signature, to Raize, then back again.
SHHHHRRRIIIIIIIIIIP!
Bryan let the two halves of the form flutter to the floor from his open hands. He scowled at his Unit Member. "Never tamper with your leave periods, Raize. You will return to duty tomorrow, and pull double shifts in all assignments for the time that form specified. Dismissed."
Raize's eyes had grown wide as they followed the torn sheet of paper drop to the floor. His heart fell along with those shredded pieces. Raize lowered his head. "Yes, sir." He saluted meekly before turning and slumping off.
Rubbing his forehead, Bryan pulled another form from the stack and scanned it. A request for ... a jacuzzi?
"DAMN IT ALL!" he yelled, slamming the paper down on the table. A few heads turned, regarded the pile of papers in front of him, then turned away with a grateful smile. Grateful that they didn't have that tower of paperwork to contend with. Bryan considered unleashing a Buster full of plasma on the stack, which was now swaying angrily above him.
"Believe me, I know EXACTLY how you feel."
Bryan didn't need to turn around to recognize Zero's voice. The crimson reploid pulled a chair over to his table and sat down, a pint of ale in each hand. He offered one to his silver-haired friend, who accepted.
"Damn... that is really my least favorite part of being a Unit Commander," Zero said dully, sipping his brew.
Bryan took a sniff. "'Ye Olde Shitfaced?'" he asked. At Zero's nod, he downed a gulp. "Good... I need something potent." Taking another gulp, he let the alcohol burn his throat, and took in the feeling. "How do you deal with this, Zero? What do you do to keep yourself from jumping up and ripping the closest person's head off to smear the blood all over these damned papers?"
Zero's eyelids drooped. "Not as graphic as what I imagine doing. I'd incinerate the stack and stuff the ashes into the hollowed-out corpse of whoever was nearby at the time, then string it up by the big toes and use it as a punching bag while I practiced kickboxing on it. After tenderizing it a good bit, and the ashes start falling out of the eyelids, ears, nose, and mouth, I'd drag it through the halls, beating it all the while, and letting small animals shit in the fallen ashes. After that, I'd drag it up to Cain's office and beat him around the head with it for making me a Commander and giving me all this shit to do. Then I'd watch as he'd stumble out the door of his office and slip on the ashes, full of small woodland animal shit, fall and break his old man hip." He said this all in a monotone voice, without taking a single breath. As he finished, he took another drink, then inhaled deeply and let his breath out in a low hiss. "And I deal with it by taking out my aggression on training droids. They're no challenge, but at that point I don't give a damn and just want to rip something apart."
Bryan lowered his head as he raised his mug. "Hear, hear!"
They both took another long drink.
Hours later the Jury exited the training complex in various states of pain, sporting different limps. The Judge walked out after them, a sour expression tugging at his face. He had his arms crossed, and his narrowed eyes were horizontal slits of glittering purple. In short, he was not in a good mood. After examining another fifteen of those forms in the pub, Bryan decided to activate his Hermes System (the space-time dimensional displacement system he utilizes) until he finished the entire stack. At least that way he would've had some time in the afternoon to himself.
If his current mood was any indicator, it didn't work as well as he'd thought. He activated Hermes, but the time spent in dimensional limbo was about eighteen hours. That's how long it took to go through all of the paperwork. After deactivating Hermes and nearly passing out from the sheer stress of using the system that long, Bryan stumbled over to a couch and tried to sleep. Unfortunately, he chose to try and catch some rest at the exact moment the loudest and most rowdy group of Hunters entered the pub. Bryan did his best to keep calm, but sometimes no matter how far your limit is set, you just snap.
And he did just that.
Letting out a roar the likes of which could only be matched by the late Burn Dinorex, Bryan leaped into the group, smashing heads together and tossing bodies aside like they were paper dolls. They started to regroup and were just about to attack... but Bryan materialized a Cloud-sized Crystal Image sabre.
They turned tail and ran.
In the aftermath, Bryan was sent to the Medical Unit, where Lifesaver examined him all for a fat lotta nothing. He concluded Bryan just needed some sleep, and that he acted out of a suppressed rage he felt for Hazama getting captured. Bryan wasn't Maverick, so all was well. Lifesaver released him to go back about his ways. What Bryan did was immediately call the entire 13th Unit in for some spontaneous training exercises. Following the call was the most grueling set of challenges any of them had ever faced. Each member had taken Bryan at face-value, assuming that he was always the smiling, cheerful, strict-but-fair leader they'd always hoped for. He was... just not all the time.
Bryan glared after the stragglers, those who hadn't the energy to hobble quickly away from his sight. Not even having to turn around, they cringed as his eyes fell upon them. He barked after them, unintentionally sounding sarcastic, "I'm impressed. Get some sleep. You've earned it."
A hand fell upon his shoulder, accompanied by a familiar voice. "Bryan? Are you alright?"
He glanced backwards, finding the small azure form of X.
"Not for the moment. I know you were watching from the private viewing area above the complex. Sorry you had to see me like that. You know I don't act that way."
X smiled. "That's why I was worried. But it's good to know you have a hard shell underneath that friendly demeanor."
"We can't all be sugar-coated gumdrops like yourself, Light."
X blinked, caught off-guard. No one ever used his last name. And come to think of it, Bryan never insulted him, either. Something was up, and he now intended to find out just what it was. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem a bit off today."
The silver-haired commander sighed. "Yeah... I know. It'll pass, don't pay it any mind," he said, turning his back on X and walking down the corridor.
X stared after him. "Something... about him. Something's not right..."
/* Previous Section by Bryan Amethyst */
Many officers were in the lounge later, the room filled with the quiet din of voices. Hazama, Bryan, Zero, and X sat in their regular chairs, shooting the breeze.
"I heard what happened in the bar a while back, Bry," Hazama spoke his first words since they had arrived. "It seems since we've arrived, it's commonplace for commanders to go berserk on guys lower down the ladder."
Bryan smirked. "Tell me you haven't gone haywire on your men."
"Do you want me to? I'd be more than happy," Hazama grinned. Zero and X didn't seem very interested in the direction their conversation had turned, so they tried to change the subject.
"Recon reported in this morning and by the looks of things, we're going to have to go to war again." This was X.
"Another war? What's this going to be, seven of them now? How many times do we have to crack their skulls and kick their asses before they realize they're not going to win?" Bryan.
They may win when there's a wrench in the workings, Hazama thought to himself, smirking unintentionally to himself. "What're you grinning about, Itsuru?" Zero asked.
Regaining his composure, but not looking suspicious, Hazama replied, "Ah, I'm just thinking of how I'll be able to drown my worries in the circulatory fluid-drenched fields of battle if we do go to war." Not saying whose fluid will be staining the ground, he thought. "Right, Zero?"
The Crimson One just smirked and shook his head. "Alright, I need to get down to the training complex. It's that time again. Remember to report in at the end of the day. And try to make it creative this time. Cain had a fit last time he saw 'Lounge' on all of our cards for most of the day."
Bryan limply waved a hand in Zero's direction as he walked away. "Yeah, we know. Creativity is one of my strengths."
"I fight and you think. While I slaughter, you can think up witty sayings to go on their tombstones."
"Maybe they just want pepperoni on their tombstone, instead?" The two shared a laugh.
"X, Bryan, I hate to go, but I really need to get some rest. These last few days have been taking a toll on my energy reserves. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast, I guess," Hazama said, rising up and stretching as he walked toward the door. Keeping my bloodlust drains my energy enough, but to deal with these simpletons... Ugh. I don't think I can stand it much longer. When I do snap, the first person I see is going to get it good. Hopefully it's Sigma, because the little good in me is really feeling cooped up here. It's as if it's screaming 'Help me! Help me!' He imagined the voice in a high pitch and he cackled as he passed the doorframe of the lounge.
"Does he always do that?" X inquired, grabbing a magazine from an adjoining rack.
"Only on days that end with the letter Y," Bryan said, grabbing a magazine of his own. X simply rolled his eyes and read.
Bryan's brow furrowed as his optics flew over a page of printed type. A stack of paper rose up above him on the table like an angry serpent poised to strike. Chewing his lip, he signed the bottom of it. Just before finishing the last letter in his name, his eye caught something strange on the paper. Looking in more closely, he saw that the pattern in the paper's print was altered in one spot. The spot in question was a number of days. Bryan frowned, then finished signing his name.
"Hey! Raize! C'mere!" he called over the din in the pub. As the bronze-colored reploid approached, he waved the paper at him. "Know what this is?" he asked.
His subordiante nodded. "An authorization form for leave." He smiled innocuously.
"An authorization form for YOUR next period of leave." The Judge treated him with an appraising look. "And I don't need to ask you what this is, I suppose," he said, indicating his signature.
A hopeful look sprung onto the 13th Unit Member's expression.
"Yeah... my signature," Bryan said, looking at the form again. He glanced at his signature, to Raize, then back again.
SHHHHRRRIIIIIIIIIIP!
Bryan let the two halves of the form flutter to the floor from his open hands. He scowled at his Unit Member. "Never tamper with your leave periods, Raize. You will return to duty tomorrow, and pull double shifts in all assignments for the time that form specified. Dismissed."
Raize's eyes had grown wide as they followed the torn sheet of paper drop to the floor. His heart fell along with those shredded pieces. Raize lowered his head. "Yes, sir." He saluted meekly before turning and slumping off.
Rubbing his forehead, Bryan pulled another form from the stack and scanned it. A request for ... a jacuzzi?
"DAMN IT ALL!" he yelled, slamming the paper down on the table. A few heads turned, regarded the pile of papers in front of him, then turned away with a grateful smile. Grateful that they didn't have that tower of paperwork to contend with. Bryan considered unleashing a Buster full of plasma on the stack, which was now swaying angrily above him.
"Believe me, I know EXACTLY how you feel."
Bryan didn't need to turn around to recognize Zero's voice. The crimson reploid pulled a chair over to his table and sat down, a pint of ale in each hand. He offered one to his silver-haired friend, who accepted.
"Damn... that is really my least favorite part of being a Unit Commander," Zero said dully, sipping his brew.
Bryan took a sniff. "'Ye Olde Shitfaced?'" he asked. At Zero's nod, he downed a gulp. "Good... I need something potent." Taking another gulp, he let the alcohol burn his throat, and took in the feeling. "How do you deal with this, Zero? What do you do to keep yourself from jumping up and ripping the closest person's head off to smear the blood all over these damned papers?"
Zero's eyelids drooped. "Not as graphic as what I imagine doing. I'd incinerate the stack and stuff the ashes into the hollowed-out corpse of whoever was nearby at the time, then string it up by the big toes and use it as a punching bag while I practiced kickboxing on it. After tenderizing it a good bit, and the ashes start falling out of the eyelids, ears, nose, and mouth, I'd drag it through the halls, beating it all the while, and letting small animals shit in the fallen ashes. After that, I'd drag it up to Cain's office and beat him around the head with it for making me a Commander and giving me all this shit to do. Then I'd watch as he'd stumble out the door of his office and slip on the ashes, full of small woodland animal shit, fall and break his old man hip." He said this all in a monotone voice, without taking a single breath. As he finished, he took another drink, then inhaled deeply and let his breath out in a low hiss. "And I deal with it by taking out my aggression on training droids. They're no challenge, but at that point I don't give a damn and just want to rip something apart."
Bryan lowered his head as he raised his mug. "Hear, hear!"
They both took another long drink.
Hours later the Jury exited the training complex in various states of pain, sporting different limps. The Judge walked out after them, a sour expression tugging at his face. He had his arms crossed, and his narrowed eyes were horizontal slits of glittering purple. In short, he was not in a good mood. After examining another fifteen of those forms in the pub, Bryan decided to activate his Hermes System (the space-time dimensional displacement system he utilizes) until he finished the entire stack. At least that way he would've had some time in the afternoon to himself.
If his current mood was any indicator, it didn't work as well as he'd thought. He activated Hermes, but the time spent in dimensional limbo was about eighteen hours. That's how long it took to go through all of the paperwork. After deactivating Hermes and nearly passing out from the sheer stress of using the system that long, Bryan stumbled over to a couch and tried to sleep. Unfortunately, he chose to try and catch some rest at the exact moment the loudest and most rowdy group of Hunters entered the pub. Bryan did his best to keep calm, but sometimes no matter how far your limit is set, you just snap.
And he did just that.
Letting out a roar the likes of which could only be matched by the late Burn Dinorex, Bryan leaped into the group, smashing heads together and tossing bodies aside like they were paper dolls. They started to regroup and were just about to attack... but Bryan materialized a Cloud-sized Crystal Image sabre.
They turned tail and ran.
In the aftermath, Bryan was sent to the Medical Unit, where Lifesaver examined him all for a fat lotta nothing. He concluded Bryan just needed some sleep, and that he acted out of a suppressed rage he felt for Hazama getting captured. Bryan wasn't Maverick, so all was well. Lifesaver released him to go back about his ways. What Bryan did was immediately call the entire 13th Unit in for some spontaneous training exercises. Following the call was the most grueling set of challenges any of them had ever faced. Each member had taken Bryan at face-value, assuming that he was always the smiling, cheerful, strict-but-fair leader they'd always hoped for. He was... just not all the time.
Bryan glared after the stragglers, those who hadn't the energy to hobble quickly away from his sight. Not even having to turn around, they cringed as his eyes fell upon them. He barked after them, unintentionally sounding sarcastic, "I'm impressed. Get some sleep. You've earned it."
A hand fell upon his shoulder, accompanied by a familiar voice. "Bryan? Are you alright?"
He glanced backwards, finding the small azure form of X.
"Not for the moment. I know you were watching from the private viewing area above the complex. Sorry you had to see me like that. You know I don't act that way."
X smiled. "That's why I was worried. But it's good to know you have a hard shell underneath that friendly demeanor."
"We can't all be sugar-coated gumdrops like yourself, Light."
X blinked, caught off-guard. No one ever used his last name. And come to think of it, Bryan never insulted him, either. Something was up, and he now intended to find out just what it was. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem a bit off today."
The silver-haired commander sighed. "Yeah... I know. It'll pass, don't pay it any mind," he said, turning his back on X and walking down the corridor.
X stared after him. "Something... about him. Something's not right..."
/* Previous Section by Bryan Amethyst */
Many officers were in the lounge later, the room filled with the quiet din of voices. Hazama, Bryan, Zero, and X sat in their regular chairs, shooting the breeze.
"I heard what happened in the bar a while back, Bry," Hazama spoke his first words since they had arrived. "It seems since we've arrived, it's commonplace for commanders to go berserk on guys lower down the ladder."
Bryan smirked. "Tell me you haven't gone haywire on your men."
"Do you want me to? I'd be more than happy," Hazama grinned. Zero and X didn't seem very interested in the direction their conversation had turned, so they tried to change the subject.
"Recon reported in this morning and by the looks of things, we're going to have to go to war again." This was X.
"Another war? What's this going to be, seven of them now? How many times do we have to crack their skulls and kick their asses before they realize they're not going to win?" Bryan.
They may win when there's a wrench in the workings, Hazama thought to himself, smirking unintentionally to himself. "What're you grinning about, Itsuru?" Zero asked.
Regaining his composure, but not looking suspicious, Hazama replied, "Ah, I'm just thinking of how I'll be able to drown my worries in the circulatory fluid-drenched fields of battle if we do go to war." Not saying whose fluid will be staining the ground, he thought. "Right, Zero?"
The Crimson One just smirked and shook his head. "Alright, I need to get down to the training complex. It's that time again. Remember to report in at the end of the day. And try to make it creative this time. Cain had a fit last time he saw 'Lounge' on all of our cards for most of the day."
Bryan limply waved a hand in Zero's direction as he walked away. "Yeah, we know. Creativity is one of my strengths."
"I fight and you think. While I slaughter, you can think up witty sayings to go on their tombstones."
"Maybe they just want pepperoni on their tombstone, instead?" The two shared a laugh.
"X, Bryan, I hate to go, but I really need to get some rest. These last few days have been taking a toll on my energy reserves. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast, I guess," Hazama said, rising up and stretching as he walked toward the door. Keeping my bloodlust drains my energy enough, but to deal with these simpletons... Ugh. I don't think I can stand it much longer. When I do snap, the first person I see is going to get it good. Hopefully it's Sigma, because the little good in me is really feeling cooped up here. It's as if it's screaming 'Help me! Help me!' He imagined the voice in a high pitch and he cackled as he passed the doorframe of the lounge.
"Does he always do that?" X inquired, grabbing a magazine from an adjoining rack.
"Only on days that end with the letter Y," Bryan said, grabbing a magazine of his own. X simply rolled his eyes and read.