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collins sector « > » flight equipment storage

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message 1: by kaya (new)

kaya (ananats) | 225 comments Mod
A SMALL, cluttered room where
HELMETS, spacesuits and all other
E Q U I P M E N T is stored.



message 2: by kaya (new)

kaya (ananats) | 225 comments Mod
Ryan Kent loathed three things: not being able to fly his own ship ( the INSA ones were so bloody slow ), his parents' refusal to acknowledge that he was capable of making his own decisions, and the complete and utter disorganisation of the Collins storage room compared to the other sectors'. It was damn near impossible to find anything in the haphazardly-stacked piles of equipment, a cascade from the highest shelf to the floor that formed an impressive funnel. He'd be surprised to find something living in there only because they were in space — on Earth, there would be at least half a dozen rodents making themselves comfortable on the unreachable bottom shelves.

Ryan dug through a smaller pile, searching for a working radio. He knew the approximate locations of at least seven broken ones ( provided someone hadn't moved stuff around since he'd last been here ), but one of the ( more annoying ) rules the teachers had set was that if you were flying outside of lessons you needed to have a working radio within arm's reach ( even though the entire cockpit was within arm's reach ). He tossed aside another broken one, two AAA batteries ( what the hell, those didn't even fit anything they had here ) and a spacesuit, only to uncover even more mess.

this is rubbish and short i'm sorry i'll do better next time



message 3: by [deleted user] (last edited Feb 05, 2017 06:36PM) (new)

A-ha! There, wedged somewhere in the constitution of a rather haphazard-looking pile of dusty equipment, was the module that Milwaukee had been sent by his squadron to retrieve. He'd been in this gosh darned room looking for it for at least an hour and a half. Really, someone ought to tidy this place up. He reached out to grab it and gave it a tug. When it didn't budge, he gripped with both hands and pulled —

And then his world came crashing down.

This is how the world ends, Milwaukee thought morosely, not with a whimper but a bang.

Except that would be an exaggeration. It wasn't his entire world, it was just a rather large pile of mostly-broken and very old equipment. All the same, he raised his arms — module still in hand — to block his face, only to find that the equipment was not, in fact, going to crush him in a mechanic avalanche. Rather, the pile was sliding down to bury his feet under equipment. "Ow," he whined, not caring that he sounded childish, because hello, couldn't you see that his feet were in p a i n.


[ no worries! it was great :) ]



message 4: by kaya (new)

kaya (ananats) | 225 comments Mod
As the sound of equipment tumbling to the ground assaulted his ears, Ryan looked up from the pile. He saw one of the pilots from his brother's squadron ( the one with the weird name, right? Milwaukee, or something? ) half-buried under a stack of equipment that should really have been thrown out years ago. Picking a path cautiously through the towering hazard-filled mountains of junk, Ryan reached over and shoved the rusted, cracked and generally deteriorating equipment off the other pilot's legs. "You ok?"

Great question, that. Was he ok after having heavy stuff ( it was so rusted he wasn't sure what it actually was ) fall on top of him? Like asking "how are you" — you'd rarely get an honest answer, because manners.

As Ryan tried to avoid failing at conversation even more ( he wasn't Daniel, goddammit! He was supposed to be good at everything ) he spotted a reasonably new radio, fully intact without so much as a single scratch on it. As he reached over a pile of boxes ( probably full of partially-assembled thingumajigs that wouldn't work ) to grab it, the boxes slid down their mound of equipment and came to a skidding, ungraceful stop in front of the door. Bugger ( the years of his parents reprimanding him for indelicate language had worked, to an extent ).



message 5: by [deleted user] (new)

When Milwaukee heard the other voice, he turned slowly, unsure of what to do. It felt something like a deer caught in the headlights — he hadn't heard anyone come in while he was busy searching through the equipment, and goodness, he must look like an idiot. Of course, there was the fact that he was pretty sure everyone in the Collins sector thought he was an idiot, but still. Embarrassing.

"Uh." Milwaukee looked down at the small mound of equipment that reached halfway up his shins. He'd probably just have to move a couple of things, right? And then he could free himself. "Yeah."

With Milwaukee, it really wasn't a matter of overconfidence. Things like this simply happened often enough that he was used to fixing it, albeit with some bruises as a souvenir. Just then, he heard a thud as the boxes from the pile Ryan had been searching to hit the ground. He watched as the box stopped right before the door. "That's rough," Milwaukee said, fully aware that it was, in fact, he, and not Ryan, trapped under a small mountain of old equipment.



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