Disclaimer: Usual applies.
Have fun, I hope you enjoy this. Commentary appreciated.
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"Oh! Ow!" Relena held a hand to her mouth. "Ow!"
"What?"
"That cut, behind my tooth?"
"Yes."
"I forgot about it and bit into a lemon." She grimaced at the combined blood-metal-sour taste in her mouth and Rachael laughed.
"Why do you like those?"
"I had a bad taste in my mouth."
"Oh, blood.."
"What?"
"It's showing...here, just take a napkin."
"What do you mean, it's showing?"
"Showing between your teeth, blood."
"Oh! I'm sorry, excuse me - "
"It's only mildly disgusting, don't worry."
"Why now, we're on in ten minutes.."
"You should sit next to Ambassador Buckler and grin, really widely." Rachael said. Relena chuckled behind her palm, now covering her mouth while she dabbed at the gum with the other hand.
"He would flee the colony!"
"Or faint."
"You can have the rest of the lemon."
"Why would I want to?"
"'Clears your head." Rachael fanned herself with her hand and glanced up and down the corridor.
"I'm remarkably clear-headed as it is - out of sheer nervousness!"
"Just hand me the prints and we'll be fine."
"This will be a very long hour."
"In which we shall rally all the support we need." Rachael let her breath out quickly and sucked it back in an attempt to calm her rapid breathing.
"The Ambassador's opposition might make it difficult, though." She managed between deep breaths of stale air.
"He'll come around with a little work." Rachael regarded her employer coyly.
"You're very confident this morning."
"Don't worry, I'm crossing my fingers as well." Pause. "Actually, I'll have the rest of the that lemon - "
"Why?"
"It might numb the taste in my mouth for a while."
"Oh.."
The pristine hall was deserted but for the warm bodies of Rachael Telapen and Relena Darlian, sitting an arms-length away from each other in chairs on either side of a door leading to the conference room. As they were earlier than the rest of the party they had decided to wait there for the others to join them, drinking coffee in the spare time they had. Relena was confident, even a bit overly so - she had talked with everyone individually at some point and they all agreed, the plan she had suggested was, if more expensive, most reasonable and agreeable. What else was warranted to ensure success from all sides? Ambassador Buckley presented an obstacle but she had ways, oh, she had very persuasive ways.
Rachael, on the other hand, felt her own confidence - derived from the light glow Relena emitted through her pores - ebbing back and forth as the minutes ticked by. She expected to hear the beat of shoes on the floor echo their way to them long before people materiliazed in the hall - she expected laser pointers and pens and arguing, tensed voices performing a formalized version of the dozens - to hear Relena's voice provide the assurance and information the group needed to make a decision - heavens, was she out of coffee already?!
The tapping of Relena's foot against the floor was the only beat of its kind then not racing furiously: Rachael's being and body pulsed with adrenalin while Relena's own heart sped up at thinking the project finally underway. So much work and planning, so many hopes rode on it - tap, tap, tap - she hadn't forgotten anything, she would've felt it if she had - tap, tap - maybe coffee hadn't been so good an idea -
Tap, tap, tap.
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Heero tapped his fingers against the counter top while he waited, idly gazing about his self in the clerk's absence. Minutes later that same clerk introduced Heero to his lunch - a very tall cup of coffee. After leaving the establishment - a small coffee house wedged between a bank and a moonfarm equipment retail store - he wandered down the street to the north, intending on reaching a manmade peak of earth and rock looking out over earth and the rest of the colony, called Brightstone for the tendency of light to reflect off the glassy rock much of the day.
The angry growl of an abused motor issued from up the street. Turning, Heero just saw the shiny crown of a helmet bouncing off the sides of a building as the rider of a motorcycle attempted at getting back on the seat. Nonetheless, the beast of a machine managed to unseat its rider once more as he - an amateur - attacked the handgrips rather than coax them into slowing the motorcycle down. It was a bulky two-seater, louder than a group of mastiffs and just as unwieldy. It somehow balanced bravely without the help of the its owner and wobbled up the street at an increasing speed. The amateur, meanwhile, warned those on foot with wild screams vouching for the machine's bloodthirsty nature, gesturing for them to spring smartly out of the way before being mowed down.
His reaction was instantaneous as he pivoted, the coffee slung in a far arc across the street. A familiar thrum of electricity ran through his joints and legs, puffing up his lungs to their maximum size. Before the rider was entirely unseated he managed to be quite close by - by the time the machine had escaped and fleed the scene Heero was only a few feet behind it. He outraced a slower car and dodged a (Idiot!) child grabbing his balloon from the gutter - the motorcycle sped up somehow, wobbling dangerously, and Heero raced after it -
- traffic thinned, some drivers turning into spectators as they climbed out of their forsaken vehicles to watch the street show. Nonetheless Heero had to swerve on foot to keep from being bumped off his path by other, yet-moving cars - ahead of the fleeing motorcycle rode a large-bodied truck, its driver aware of something going on behind him but incapable of seeing anything properly. Heero strained to reach the - that goddamned, fu -
Swinging himself up onto the second seat, the motorcycle swerved, low to the ground, nearly on its side, to the left and he quickly set it right. Unfeeling to the ache an unbalanced landing lent his groin he flexed the handlebars, calming the motor and gaining control over it. Slipping into the first seat, he found the balance - the motor rumbled at being reigned in but turned, coming to a stop at the curb moments later. Glancing up Heero saw the - grateful - driver coming towards him and flexed the handlebars, listening to the motor's renewed, suggestive rumble. The amateur driver approached him with caution that dragged at his formerly happy, relieved step as he came close. Heero stared into his face without moving from the machine, propping it up with both feet on the ground. Unwillingly returning the reproachful stare of the young man the driver held out a hand in greeting. Heero's eyes considered the gesture but he made no move to respond to it.
"Uh...thanks. Thanks a lot, actually. I can't believe it - " The driver hissed as he inhaled between his teeth. "That was just so cool." Pulling his hand back, he added, "I...well, again, thanks. If you...y'know, you need anything that...I can help with, uh..." Heero released the handlebars and, leaning forward, propped his elbows up on them. His glare caused the driver to stutter a little more before he decided to speak up.
"How much do you want for it?" The driver's eyes popped and his fingers clenched.
"What?! I never - "
"How. Much." The driver looked nothing less than aghast.
"Hey!" The driver glanced over his shoulder at the speaker and spied a crippled old man with a cane on the other sidewalk. "You louse! I'm reporting you, you ass!"
"What?!"
"You think you can rule the streets - "
"Wait, wait just a second, hold - "
" - too inexperienced, your ass is fried! - "
" - I know, I mean - "
"What the hell am I, furniture?!!" The old man waved with a cane and batted at someone in passing who happened to be in a wheelchair. "What are we to you? Fuck off, and fuck you! I hope you choke."
"Wait!" The driver brought his eyes to the front wheel of the machine. "I was going to report - this..."
"I asked you, how much." Heero managed once more. The driver lifted exasperated, frustrated eyes to his face, shoulders slumped.
"I dunno, I think...it's antique, about - "
"1.800,00'?"
"Yeah, about." Then he shook his head, clearing it. "Hold on! I don't want to sell!"
"They're going to take your license and this thing."
"Yeah, fine, but - "
"You're no good." Heero felt for his wallet at his back pocket, staring the man down all the while. "Terrible balance. You'll never learn." The man bristled and wilted at the same time.
"I won't? How - "
"Here." Heero handed him the money. "Now give me the key - here's were you can reach me for transfer of ownership.."
The amateur driver took the money but never closed his fingers around it. After a few moments of wordless despair and an increasing sense of self-doubt he handed Heero the keys, taking, in turn, the information Heero had scrawled on the back of a local hotel's business card. His eyes took in the whole picture - the challenge written across the young man's face, his possessive hold on his late father's vehicle, a classic of the bulky sort, the keys already in the youth's hand and the air of loss that surrounded him but not the other. Sighing, he took off his helmet.
"Yeah. I'll call you." His voice lacked conviction, though in the end, he would stay true to his word. He handed Heero the helmet and stepped back while the young man trod on the gas pedal once, twice - and set off down the street, the helmet dangling by its strap on a rack fixed to the back of the vehicle. The man, now without transportation, glanced around - and headed for the closest bus stop. He felt utterly defeated and dragged his feet - with a groan, he remembered the old man's threat from before and doubted the day could have gotten worser.
Heero continued on to Brightstone as planned, only he went by the motorist's path rather than up the stairs leading to the tallest point. The different direction offered an entirely opposing view in comparison to that of the walkers', as Heero found in greatly detailed display at his side while he drove. Trees that had been recently planted grew below the path, covering that side of the steep hill in a scraggly fashion. The neighborhood of newly-erected buildings and residential areas had yet to increase in size and the sun shone callously down on the lone rider as he passed it by, having never before seen that section of the colony from that point of view.
At reaching the near-top - motor vehicles being prohibited from accessing that part of Brightstone - he stopped the machine and the rumble of the motor died quickly. Leaning against it he folded his arms over his chest, watching thoughtfully, almost vacantly as the landscape changed with the sun overriding the curved side of the Earth. To keep a colony from wandering too far into space it was set in some planet's - or moon's, depending on the size and weight - gravitational pull, where it circled the planet in a planned orbit. In this way, colonial citizens experienced a setting and rising sun, much as their Earth-bound counterparts, but in a different way - the sun had to first escape the bulk of Earth in order to reach the colony in the first place.
Heero amused himself with the mathematical equation needed to find an appropriate orbit for a mid-sized, lightweight colony with large import/export harbors and shuttles. The colony farthest from Earth so far was in an orbit circling Mars, many of its citizens brought to live there for the newly-erected Mars Operation. As Mars had a gravitational pull roughly the strength of Earth's a mid-sized colony would do well there - as would the moon, unless the colony was to have a large population of citizens.......
Brighstone was already heavily populated by visitors - however, as the motorists' path was used rarely Heero was relatively secluded and only heard the din if he focused on it. Absently scratching his chin he swept his eyes over the uneven city spread out beneath him - this section was older by a few years than the one he passed on the way, many of the buildings familiar to him through much of the wandering he had done since alighting on the colony with the rest of Relena's troupe. The optimistic nature of the colony - not unheard of on space colonies, whose laws tended to restrict criminal behavior more and punished the same more severely than on Earth - left a person the rare delight of wandering streets at night safely. Heero's nocturnal habits, uninhibited even when he stayed in some of Earth's busiest port cities, had branched out so that he only left himself enough time to sleep for a few scant hours.
A grumbling sigh disturbed the quiet he surrounded himself with - what was he to do with this vehicle? He hadn't thought his actions through entirely, having being outraged that such an amateur cyclist took on a heavy motorcycle with so little regard for pedestrians and fellow motorists. Losing his license was at the bottom of his worries - he would have killed someone. Heero had just prevented a might-be felon from entering prison. Regret added to his thoughts like weights to a net; transporting a motor vehicle between colonies was expensive.....
It was a good machine, though. He admired well-constructed machinery and technological devices greatly, from printing presses to handguns. This was a very good machine and now that he thought about it, he didn't care to leave it behind. It had some balance issues, being more unwieldy than its fellow motorcycles, along with having unnecessary storage options, but it was secure and possessed a good grip on the road.
He didn't intend on staying in space for all that long. After a few more weeks he would return to Earth, where he would stay for a number of months. Perhaps he could send it there - he still knew some people who would take it in for a time.....
Involuntarily, his mind lept back, jump-started by the reminder of existing contacts.
"How are you liking space, Heero?"
"No different than before." Duo grinned.
"Oh. I thought the lack of shelling and governmental disorder would have added some charm." He chewed on a bit of tangerine. "Silly me."
Have fun, I hope you enjoy this. Commentary appreciated.
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"Oh! Ow!" Relena held a hand to her mouth. "Ow!"
"What?"
"That cut, behind my tooth?"
"Yes."
"I forgot about it and bit into a lemon." She grimaced at the combined blood-metal-sour taste in her mouth and Rachael laughed.
"Why do you like those?"
"I had a bad taste in my mouth."
"Oh, blood.."
"What?"
"It's showing...here, just take a napkin."
"What do you mean, it's showing?"
"Showing between your teeth, blood."
"Oh! I'm sorry, excuse me - "
"It's only mildly disgusting, don't worry."
"Why now, we're on in ten minutes.."
"You should sit next to Ambassador Buckler and grin, really widely." Rachael said. Relena chuckled behind her palm, now covering her mouth while she dabbed at the gum with the other hand.
"He would flee the colony!"
"Or faint."
"You can have the rest of the lemon."
"Why would I want to?"
"'Clears your head." Rachael fanned herself with her hand and glanced up and down the corridor.
"I'm remarkably clear-headed as it is - out of sheer nervousness!"
"Just hand me the prints and we'll be fine."
"This will be a very long hour."
"In which we shall rally all the support we need." Rachael let her breath out quickly and sucked it back in an attempt to calm her rapid breathing.
"The Ambassador's opposition might make it difficult, though." She managed between deep breaths of stale air.
"He'll come around with a little work." Rachael regarded her employer coyly.
"You're very confident this morning."
"Don't worry, I'm crossing my fingers as well." Pause. "Actually, I'll have the rest of the that lemon - "
"Why?"
"It might numb the taste in my mouth for a while."
"Oh.."
The pristine hall was deserted but for the warm bodies of Rachael Telapen and Relena Darlian, sitting an arms-length away from each other in chairs on either side of a door leading to the conference room. As they were earlier than the rest of the party they had decided to wait there for the others to join them, drinking coffee in the spare time they had. Relena was confident, even a bit overly so - she had talked with everyone individually at some point and they all agreed, the plan she had suggested was, if more expensive, most reasonable and agreeable. What else was warranted to ensure success from all sides? Ambassador Buckley presented an obstacle but she had ways, oh, she had very persuasive ways.
Rachael, on the other hand, felt her own confidence - derived from the light glow Relena emitted through her pores - ebbing back and forth as the minutes ticked by. She expected to hear the beat of shoes on the floor echo their way to them long before people materiliazed in the hall - she expected laser pointers and pens and arguing, tensed voices performing a formalized version of the dozens - to hear Relena's voice provide the assurance and information the group needed to make a decision - heavens, was she out of coffee already?!
The tapping of Relena's foot against the floor was the only beat of its kind then not racing furiously: Rachael's being and body pulsed with adrenalin while Relena's own heart sped up at thinking the project finally underway. So much work and planning, so many hopes rode on it - tap, tap, tap - she hadn't forgotten anything, she would've felt it if she had - tap, tap - maybe coffee hadn't been so good an idea -
Tap, tap, tap.
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Heero tapped his fingers against the counter top while he waited, idly gazing about his self in the clerk's absence. Minutes later that same clerk introduced Heero to his lunch - a very tall cup of coffee. After leaving the establishment - a small coffee house wedged between a bank and a moonfarm equipment retail store - he wandered down the street to the north, intending on reaching a manmade peak of earth and rock looking out over earth and the rest of the colony, called Brightstone for the tendency of light to reflect off the glassy rock much of the day.
The angry growl of an abused motor issued from up the street. Turning, Heero just saw the shiny crown of a helmet bouncing off the sides of a building as the rider of a motorcycle attempted at getting back on the seat. Nonetheless, the beast of a machine managed to unseat its rider once more as he - an amateur - attacked the handgrips rather than coax them into slowing the motorcycle down. It was a bulky two-seater, louder than a group of mastiffs and just as unwieldy. It somehow balanced bravely without the help of the its owner and wobbled up the street at an increasing speed. The amateur, meanwhile, warned those on foot with wild screams vouching for the machine's bloodthirsty nature, gesturing for them to spring smartly out of the way before being mowed down.
His reaction was instantaneous as he pivoted, the coffee slung in a far arc across the street. A familiar thrum of electricity ran through his joints and legs, puffing up his lungs to their maximum size. Before the rider was entirely unseated he managed to be quite close by - by the time the machine had escaped and fleed the scene Heero was only a few feet behind it. He outraced a slower car and dodged a (Idiot!) child grabbing his balloon from the gutter - the motorcycle sped up somehow, wobbling dangerously, and Heero raced after it -
- traffic thinned, some drivers turning into spectators as they climbed out of their forsaken vehicles to watch the street show. Nonetheless Heero had to swerve on foot to keep from being bumped off his path by other, yet-moving cars - ahead of the fleeing motorcycle rode a large-bodied truck, its driver aware of something going on behind him but incapable of seeing anything properly. Heero strained to reach the - that goddamned, fu -
Swinging himself up onto the second seat, the motorcycle swerved, low to the ground, nearly on its side, to the left and he quickly set it right. Unfeeling to the ache an unbalanced landing lent his groin he flexed the handlebars, calming the motor and gaining control over it. Slipping into the first seat, he found the balance - the motor rumbled at being reigned in but turned, coming to a stop at the curb moments later. Glancing up Heero saw the - grateful - driver coming towards him and flexed the handlebars, listening to the motor's renewed, suggestive rumble. The amateur driver approached him with caution that dragged at his formerly happy, relieved step as he came close. Heero stared into his face without moving from the machine, propping it up with both feet on the ground. Unwillingly returning the reproachful stare of the young man the driver held out a hand in greeting. Heero's eyes considered the gesture but he made no move to respond to it.
"Uh...thanks. Thanks a lot, actually. I can't believe it - " The driver hissed as he inhaled between his teeth. "That was just so cool." Pulling his hand back, he added, "I...well, again, thanks. If you...y'know, you need anything that...I can help with, uh..." Heero released the handlebars and, leaning forward, propped his elbows up on them. His glare caused the driver to stutter a little more before he decided to speak up.
"How much do you want for it?" The driver's eyes popped and his fingers clenched.
"What?! I never - "
"How. Much." The driver looked nothing less than aghast.
"Hey!" The driver glanced over his shoulder at the speaker and spied a crippled old man with a cane on the other sidewalk. "You louse! I'm reporting you, you ass!"
"What?!"
"You think you can rule the streets - "
"Wait, wait just a second, hold - "
" - too inexperienced, your ass is fried! - "
" - I know, I mean - "
"What the hell am I, furniture?!!" The old man waved with a cane and batted at someone in passing who happened to be in a wheelchair. "What are we to you? Fuck off, and fuck you! I hope you choke."
"Wait!" The driver brought his eyes to the front wheel of the machine. "I was going to report - this..."
"I asked you, how much." Heero managed once more. The driver lifted exasperated, frustrated eyes to his face, shoulders slumped.
"I dunno, I think...it's antique, about - "
"1.800,00'?"
"Yeah, about." Then he shook his head, clearing it. "Hold on! I don't want to sell!"
"They're going to take your license and this thing."
"Yeah, fine, but - "
"You're no good." Heero felt for his wallet at his back pocket, staring the man down all the while. "Terrible balance. You'll never learn." The man bristled and wilted at the same time.
"I won't? How - "
"Here." Heero handed him the money. "Now give me the key - here's were you can reach me for transfer of ownership.."
The amateur driver took the money but never closed his fingers around it. After a few moments of wordless despair and an increasing sense of self-doubt he handed Heero the keys, taking, in turn, the information Heero had scrawled on the back of a local hotel's business card. His eyes took in the whole picture - the challenge written across the young man's face, his possessive hold on his late father's vehicle, a classic of the bulky sort, the keys already in the youth's hand and the air of loss that surrounded him but not the other. Sighing, he took off his helmet.
"Yeah. I'll call you." His voice lacked conviction, though in the end, he would stay true to his word. He handed Heero the helmet and stepped back while the young man trod on the gas pedal once, twice - and set off down the street, the helmet dangling by its strap on a rack fixed to the back of the vehicle. The man, now without transportation, glanced around - and headed for the closest bus stop. He felt utterly defeated and dragged his feet - with a groan, he remembered the old man's threat from before and doubted the day could have gotten worser.
Heero continued on to Brightstone as planned, only he went by the motorist's path rather than up the stairs leading to the tallest point. The different direction offered an entirely opposing view in comparison to that of the walkers', as Heero found in greatly detailed display at his side while he drove. Trees that had been recently planted grew below the path, covering that side of the steep hill in a scraggly fashion. The neighborhood of newly-erected buildings and residential areas had yet to increase in size and the sun shone callously down on the lone rider as he passed it by, having never before seen that section of the colony from that point of view.
At reaching the near-top - motor vehicles being prohibited from accessing that part of Brightstone - he stopped the machine and the rumble of the motor died quickly. Leaning against it he folded his arms over his chest, watching thoughtfully, almost vacantly as the landscape changed with the sun overriding the curved side of the Earth. To keep a colony from wandering too far into space it was set in some planet's - or moon's, depending on the size and weight - gravitational pull, where it circled the planet in a planned orbit. In this way, colonial citizens experienced a setting and rising sun, much as their Earth-bound counterparts, but in a different way - the sun had to first escape the bulk of Earth in order to reach the colony in the first place.
Heero amused himself with the mathematical equation needed to find an appropriate orbit for a mid-sized, lightweight colony with large import/export harbors and shuttles. The colony farthest from Earth so far was in an orbit circling Mars, many of its citizens brought to live there for the newly-erected Mars Operation. As Mars had a gravitational pull roughly the strength of Earth's a mid-sized colony would do well there - as would the moon, unless the colony was to have a large population of citizens.......
Brighstone was already heavily populated by visitors - however, as the motorists' path was used rarely Heero was relatively secluded and only heard the din if he focused on it. Absently scratching his chin he swept his eyes over the uneven city spread out beneath him - this section was older by a few years than the one he passed on the way, many of the buildings familiar to him through much of the wandering he had done since alighting on the colony with the rest of Relena's troupe. The optimistic nature of the colony - not unheard of on space colonies, whose laws tended to restrict criminal behavior more and punished the same more severely than on Earth - left a person the rare delight of wandering streets at night safely. Heero's nocturnal habits, uninhibited even when he stayed in some of Earth's busiest port cities, had branched out so that he only left himself enough time to sleep for a few scant hours.
A grumbling sigh disturbed the quiet he surrounded himself with - what was he to do with this vehicle? He hadn't thought his actions through entirely, having being outraged that such an amateur cyclist took on a heavy motorcycle with so little regard for pedestrians and fellow motorists. Losing his license was at the bottom of his worries - he would have killed someone. Heero had just prevented a might-be felon from entering prison. Regret added to his thoughts like weights to a net; transporting a motor vehicle between colonies was expensive.....
It was a good machine, though. He admired well-constructed machinery and technological devices greatly, from printing presses to handguns. This was a very good machine and now that he thought about it, he didn't care to leave it behind. It had some balance issues, being more unwieldy than its fellow motorcycles, along with having unnecessary storage options, but it was secure and possessed a good grip on the road.
He didn't intend on staying in space for all that long. After a few more weeks he would return to Earth, where he would stay for a number of months. Perhaps he could send it there - he still knew some people who would take it in for a time.....
Involuntarily, his mind lept back, jump-started by the reminder of existing contacts.
"How are you liking space, Heero?"
"No different than before." Duo grinned.
"Oh. I thought the lack of shelling and governmental disorder would have added some charm." He chewed on a bit of tangerine. "Silly me."