The Fall (Chapter 15, 12/22/2011)

[McLaughlin]

Well, I've been wanting to write something for a while, and finally had enough time to put the first chapter together. This is as much practice for me as it is a story for you all, so bear with me through my poor writing skills. The updates will likely be bi-monthly at best as I have a lot of schoolwork on my plate as well as a job, but I'll do my best to stick with it and complete this.

I think that's all I wanted to say at this point. Comments and criticism are welcome and appreciated. I'm a little strapped for time at the moment but I'll try to utilize the tab tags in future updates to make it a little easier on the eyes. I guess it's on with the show?

Chapter 1: Out of the Frying Pan


“I can't believe they're making us train a recruit. This is ridiculous!”

“Complaining at this point is futile Eliza. Finish your preparations so we can depart. Being late will reflect poorly on both of us.” The voice responding to the protest is soft, with a feminine pitch, but the tone is synthetic, if only just.

“Yeah well, assigning both of us to one person is a waste of resources if you ask me. He better be a hottie. Hey, how does this jacket look?” the woman referred to as Eliza asks, while doing a quick pirouette in front of her mirror.

“Aesthetically acceptable, but it holds no defensive value whatsoever.”

“So perfect then.” Eliza flashes a grin at her companion as she pulls on the ends of her pale yellow flaxo jacket to smooth out the ruffles.

“Between that jacket and those pants I wonder why you bother to dress at all,” the caseal observes, referring to the flaxo pants Eliza is also wearing, and whose leg slits on the outside of each thigh leave little to the imagination. “You have more skin showing than cloth.”

“I've told you before, this stuff gives me more room to move around. I'm pretty useless if I'm rooted in place. Besides, that stupid shield over your shoulder is enough defense for the both of us. I'm ready, but are you sure you want to go out like that? You're gonna spook the kid Remi.”

“As opposed to looking like an escort?” she says flatly. “I think I will take my chances.”

“That chest piece hardly screams 'professional',” Eliza fires back, taking full stock of what Remi plans to spend the day in. Batrelle arms with that shield floating over the left shoulder, the Bacalone torso that, in her opinion, was just as suggestive as her own flaxo jacket, what with her current paint scheme having the fake flesh bits a cold gray color and the black metal sections cupping her breasts. She had never understood why those bits were black when the rest of her bulkier metal pieces were a rusty shade of red. She'd always thought it looked downright scandalous. It didn't help that she had a humanoid head with cream-colored skin, and blonde hair just like her own. Men like to think it's a naked woman underneath all the metal and circuits, and the lifelike head just furthers the fantasy. Her choice of leg parts were cause for a moment of consideration. They looked like standard Digiel legs, but the red and gray parts were inverted and the metal skirt was missing.

“Hey, where's the skirt? You always make fun of me for caring what I look like!”

“Its defensive value does not adequately mitigate its restrictive range of motion,” Remi states matter-of-factly.

If glares could kill, we'd have a death pretty early in the story, as Eliza fires daggers from her eyes.

“Additionally,” Remi continues, allowing the smallest of grins to creep onto her face, “it makes sitting quite difficult.”

And with that, they set off out the door. They board an elevator and ride it to the fourth floor of the Colony where they make the trek across the floor towards Parum's PPT gate.

==========

At the same time, across the sector a young man goes through his own morning rituals, though his involve significantly less banter. Having slept poorly the night before, he's already been awake a few hours. Nerves, he'd guessed. Currently he's cleaning the dishes he used to prepare and eat his breakfast. Once he's done that he walks across his modest apartment to the bathroom to splash some water on his face to make sure he's fully awake. Once's he done that, he takes a quick shower and brushes his teeth, checking his breath afterward and deciding mouth wash is a good idea.

Moving out of the bathroom and in to the bedroom, he considers carefully for several moments before settling on his clothing for the day. Pulling his white braves ST pants on one leg at a time, he hops on his left leg while struggling to get his right foot all the way through the leg as his toes catch the yellow rings at the bottom near the cuff. Once that ordeal is over, he buckles up the matching yellow belt. He grabs two things from his closet, leaving the hangers they were on to swing back and forth as their job for the day is done. His first attempt at putting on the long sleeved yellow shirt ends with his head trying to poke through one of the arm holes, but after a little repositioning he pops through the proper place and slides his arms through the sleeves before pulling the shirt down and straightening it out. Next he picks the nobles coat up off his bed slips himself in to it without incident. The yellow stripes on it match well with his pants and the rest of the fabric is a deep green, his favorite color. After giving it a firm tug to align it properly he walks back in to the bathroom where he takes a few minutes to get his hair under control.

It doesn't take him long. He kept it short for exactly that reason. All he has to do is get his sandy blonde bangs out of his eyes, which he does with a pomade by just flipping them upwards a bit, sweeping mostly to the right, but having a bit on the end pushed back towards the left so that the two sections come to meet cleanly near the right side of his head.

Once he's satisfied nothing is sticking up at a weird angle, he makes for his door. Grabbing his wallet card off the island in his kitchen, he sticks it in his back pocket. Once he reaches the door he retrieves his keys from the hook on the wall, slides his feet in to his solid yellow braves sneakers, and taps the console next to the door, signaling it to open. At this point he realizes he's forgotten something and walks purposefully back to his bedroom. Making his way around the side of his bed, he reaches for a small digital picture frame on his nightstand. He stares at it intently for nearly a minute before unzipping his coat and putting the frame in a pocket in the lining of the coat. Checking the clock on the opposite nightstand, he realizes he's going to be late. He does his coat back up as he walks quickly back towards his door, where he taps a few keys before leaving. He steps out, waits for the familiar hissing sound the door makes as it slides shut, confirms the light above it has changed from green to red signifying it's locked, and sets off at a brisk pace towards the space port.

==========

“So where is this kid?” Eliza asks as her eyes scan the crowd of people walking through East Holtes. “I thought you said we were going to be late.”

“You could use this time to familiarize your self with his scouting report. He has probably been held up at customs. You know how long the civilian processing lines are.” Remi has her gaze focused on the data sheet in front of her.

“Why should I bother? You've already read it and I can just get you to tell me the interesting bits. How old is he?”

“Nineteen,” Remi answers.

“Just a pup then!” Eliza shouts rather excitedly.

“He is human, Eliza. He may be a 'pup' in beast years but he is a nearly fully matured adult by human standards. Do not patronize him.”

Eliza sighs and returns to watching the passersby, sweeping her blonde bangs back behind her ear. Her hair is nearly as long as Remi's, reaching down almost to the small of her back, but where Remi ties her golden locks in a low ponytail with a red and white polka dot ribbon, she's perfectly happy to let her hair do as it pleases as long as it's out of her eyes. Sitting on the bench outside the Guardian's Branch as they are, if you only looked at them from the neck up they could pass for twins; same hair color and skin complexion, same yellow eyes, but the ears give them away. Eliza's puppy ears are well hidden beneath her hair, but there's no hiding the large black triangular antennas that stretch back from where Remi's ears would be. The short black prong sticking up from her forehead is a pretty good indicator as well.

“Well that's disappointing. I don't date humans,” Eliza says dejectedly.

“How fortunate for him them,” Remi responds slyly.

“Very funny. When did you develop a sense of humor?” Eliza mumbles, unable to think of anything witty to strike back with. “What else is in that report?”

“This is an intelligence report, not some matchmaking survey,” Remi says, launching a sideways glance at Eliza. “There are, however, some interesting details-”

“Like?” Eliza interrupts.

“...He scored well on the entrance exam, has 'excellent observation skills',” Remi reads off the data sheet, pausing for a moment to skip irrelevant information, “scored poorly on the strength tests but above average in the endurance challenge,” she finishes. Reading further down the page, something catches he attention, prompting her to continue, “He beat Benjamin's record on the agility course.”

That catches Eliza's attention. “What!?”

“By nearly fifteen seconds,” Remi adds. “That's... intriguing.”

“Ha!” Eliza laughs, “I like this kid already! I can't wait to shove him in Ben's face.”

“I believe that would be unwise. You know how competitive he is.”

“We just have to teach him a few things first then. Not like Ben can catch him anyway!” Eliza squeals.

Their conversation is interrupted by the young human cautiously approaching them. They both stand and walk to meet him.

“Hello, would you happen to be,” he says softly as he extends his hand, “Remi and-”

“Eli. Yep, that's us,” Eliza finishes for him. Remi turns to aim another glare her way. “What? I can't keep you from using my whole name but I can sure teach him the right way to address me,” she explains, adding, “if he likes where all his teeth are anyway.”

He nods quickly, “yes ma'-”

“Eli,” she corrects, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

“Eli,” he confirms nervously.

“Please forgive my partner, her mouth is often faster than her brain,” Remi says, shaking his hand as well, sans the death grip Eli had, which seems to relax him a bit. “You must be Roderick.”

“That's me,” he replies, casting a cursory look at Eli to see if she's preparing to dismantle her friend, “I'm sorry I'm so late. I got held up at the customs office and got a little turned around on my way here.”

“It's fine,” Eli assures him. She gives him the once over before looking back up to his piercing green eyes, and I do mean up, because Eli and Remi are both pushing 5'10 and Roderick towers at least three inches above either of them,“you're fine...”

It takes her a moment to figure out that Remi is staring yet more daggers at her and Roderick is blushing furiously because she spoke that last bit aloud. She just shrugs it off and adds “That name's a bit cumbersome though. I'll have to think of something.”

Remi offers him a warm smile and changes the subject, “I have read your file. I believe we are the perfect people to assist in your growth.”

“Well I wouldn't call him perfect...” Eli's voice trails off as she's thinking out loud again.

Remi redirects again, “Our mission today is to observe the forests in and around Rafflon Meadows, and report any SEED contamination to the AMF for purification.”

“Sounds good,” Roderick says, a little relieved he survived their first encounter.

“Then we should be off,” Remi says, gesturing towards the archway atop the slope they're standing at the base of, “the mission counter is this way.”

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Well, a bit shorter than I had anticipated, but I think the bulk will come more easily as I get further into the narrative. Thoughts and opinions?