Post by Itsaki on Oct 30, 2008 12:50:42 GMT -5
((Are you in the same city we're near? Or are you someplace different?))
Eiran went to his bedroom up the stairs. He walked inside, closing the door behind him. He pulled off his clothes, instead pulling on a dark suit ((made of the same stuff as under armor, light, thin, flexible)) and then he strapped on his dark armor, fairly thick plates that had been stolen from a military warehouse, painted black. Finally he donned his black helmet, holstered his pistol, then slid his short fifle into a sort of thin container on his back, ((for lack of better explanation. It's a thin compartment that perfectly fit his rifle.)) placing the long barrel into a slot on his side. He slid his pack on over the compartment on his back, then opened the door. He stepped into the hallway, and a moment later, Mastrik's door opened as well, his armor spotted with black and grey camoflauge.
"Channel thirteen." Eiran said.
Mastrik made no noticeable movement, but inside his helmet, he controlled the screen with his thoughts, just as Eiran did in his helmet. Once the two had connected on the same channel they sound-proofed their helmets, so that they could yell at each other as loud as they wanted, and still be stealthy. Mastrik had a rifle in his back compartment, a long barrel also at his side. No pistol was visible.
"No small arms?" Eiran asked through the comm link.
Mastrik held up his arm, and a small panel extended outward, and a short barrel protruded out.
"Saving space." He said. Eiran laughed. He held up his arm and a larger panel slid open, and a stockier barrel opened up.
"Sometimes stealth isn't enough." Mastrik laughed now.
The two walked out through the main area and stepped onto the rising platform that took them above ground.
Eiran went to his bedroom up the stairs. He walked inside, closing the door behind him. He pulled off his clothes, instead pulling on a dark suit ((made of the same stuff as under armor, light, thin, flexible)) and then he strapped on his dark armor, fairly thick plates that had been stolen from a military warehouse, painted black. Finally he donned his black helmet, holstered his pistol, then slid his short fifle into a sort of thin container on his back, ((for lack of better explanation. It's a thin compartment that perfectly fit his rifle.)) placing the long barrel into a slot on his side. He slid his pack on over the compartment on his back, then opened the door. He stepped into the hallway, and a moment later, Mastrik's door opened as well, his armor spotted with black and grey camoflauge.
"Channel thirteen." Eiran said.
Mastrik made no noticeable movement, but inside his helmet, he controlled the screen with his thoughts, just as Eiran did in his helmet. Once the two had connected on the same channel they sound-proofed their helmets, so that they could yell at each other as loud as they wanted, and still be stealthy. Mastrik had a rifle in his back compartment, a long barrel also at his side. No pistol was visible.
"No small arms?" Eiran asked through the comm link.
Mastrik held up his arm, and a small panel extended outward, and a short barrel protruded out.
"Saving space." He said. Eiran laughed. He held up his arm and a larger panel slid open, and a stockier barrel opened up.
"Sometimes stealth isn't enough." Mastrik laughed now.
The two walked out through the main area and stepped onto the rising platform that took them above ground.