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ʜᴀɴsᴇɴ| ᴄʜᴜᴄᴋ ([personal profile] payloaded) wrote2013-08-17 11:04 pm
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CHUCK HANSEN | R-CHAN_512.66-D | leave a message
stomped: art by crosshammered @ tumblr (JAVELIN GUN)

[personal profile] stomped 2013-09-27 05:18 am (UTC)(link)
[ isaac has taken the time to reign himself in. it's part of what leaves him quiet, not quite as anxious as he might have been months ago. maybe it's alayne. maybe it's the fact that he's too engrossed in a new set of armor (spartan wear gets old and fast). he hears alayne before he even has to acknowledge the tool and when he turns, there's a slight smile on the corner of his mouth.

that's my girl is the sort of thing he'd say, but he keeps it to himself as he turns his eyes back to the situation at hand. ]


So we'll work... out from here...

[ he moves a bit more quickly now, finding bolts, remembering what seems to latch onto where (try that after, this will come before, that goes off later--it'll jam, don't want to bust it). he touches each one carefully--one, two... and so on before holding out his hand to alayne with a nod. this is the part that will be the most trying. the back is always delicate. whatever this piece is supposed to do, it's fastened in tightly and nestled securely into the suit. he sounds far off when he speaks again. ]

Anything I need to know about this piece?

[ spinal equipment is... fragile and even that doesn't quite cover it. so he hefts the ratchet a bit more carefully in his hand and applies it to the top bolt first.

he doesn't turn it just yet, instead nodding alayne over close. extra hands at a moment's notice. he holds the position. ]


'Fore I start.
wont: (CAPERCAILLIE)

[personal profile] wont 2013-09-30 11:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ There is nothing left for Alayne to do now except remain quiet and out of the way. The ratchet delivered, she retreats a small distance so as to give Isaac a well enough berth of Chuck as he circuits him. Already she sees his mind working, the expression on his face growing thoughtful and distant. Isaac Clarke was the sort of man who could get lost in things, though sometimes those things were his work and sometimes those things were his nightmares — each having as good of a pull as the other. The gleam of metal and the innards of engines or simply the flat, screaming dark; in the end it made no difference, they were both a part of him now.

She gives her attention first to her guardian only to find it wander back to Ranger Hansen after a while. Eyes straight, attention forward; again, it makes her think of the Master Chief. Pushing herself from the edge of the table where she's situated herself, Alayne walks forward, into Chuck's field of vision and places herself here if only to see whether his gaze will linger (the priority in eyes forward) or if it will go elsewhere (the priority in not looking at her).

When she speaks her voice is politely curious, a question that is less interjection and more another conversation that's meant to run in tandem.
]

What is it that you fight, Ranger Hansen?