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[[Everything was actually pretty cool for a while. Things were pretty chill, though, the stress of piling up work was building to a peak. Every day, there were at least 2 new machines that were thrown on his workload. When was the last time he got to go play her?

Fuck, months ago, when they reunited with Cheng and family; that's when.

But he was squashing all that down, munching on a sammich, reading over some scrawny-ass new mobile suit that the AEUG had shipped over. Tiny little as thing... it was like a toothpick, so no WONDER it was trashed 3 ways from last Saturday.

But he was squashing all that. Everything was cool as he went to set his sandwich down and take a drink...

Except in his blueprint reading in the mess hall, moving the blueprint moved the tray, so when he went to set the sammich down, he knocked over his drink, splashing it on the blueprints.]]

FUCK!

[[With that, MarKus flips the tray everything was on and throws the blueprints aside]]

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Mira had been sipping at coffee when he made his out burst. "Do I want to know what?" She managed to lean back to avoid the drink. She did manage to save her music score, though her tablet's soaked.

"Just everything in the fucking world going wrong all at once, that's all!"

"MarKus calm down it can't be that bad. Here, let me see if I can help salvage the blue prints." She runs to get some towels for him, returning to lightly dab at them wile mopping up the drink. At least she wasn't going to get pissed. She'd save that for later. The information on her tablet was backed up to the ship's servers anyway.

"You're fucking kidding, right? On top of being one of five competent mechanics on the ship, thus, having to fix the fuck out of everything everyday because people won't stop getting fucking shot, some bug bullshit's had my girl laid up in MedBay for the last month?

Now it's "our fault" that we fucked up some peace treaty shit because we tried to keep everyone from being mauled by MORE alien fucktards."

Nope, too furious to help clean up. "But wait, there's plenty of room for it to get worse." he says, pointing his hand at the (copy) of the Union Flag

She shook her head a moment fighting the urge to slam her hands on the table. "At least you still have Bunny and your mech. I've been so swamped with helping with repairs I haven't even been able to really start building a new bike."

Hey she caught Shirley's name, but Bunny fits so she's keeping it as her personal nickname for the witch.

"Fiiiiiiine I see pretending to be optimistic won't work. Rather deal with that," She nodded to the flag, "Than more Invid without a decent machine."

That's HIS nickname for her.

"Yeah, well I have a machine still because I've been too fucking backed up fixing everyone else's to even have half a chance to even USE it! How the fuck do you think I feel?

Hey not like she knows!

"Tell them to fix their own fucking machines then. My old group had to if I was backed up. And our pilot for the Valk was a crap mechanic." She sighed, really she wasn't pissed at him just fed up and wanted time to build another bike. Or hit something... But she figured that would only result in more work for the other techs, and a broken fist.

"I would if I could trust them to do it right!" he barks back.

Yeah, he was getting fed up too... A break would be nice... or some more mechanics that had high-quality work, not just a bunch of faceless average-Joes

"Maybe it would teach them to take better care of their machines." She huffed back. If they kept it up they were going to have a one sided shouting match that really the pilots should be listening to.

"Yeah, well, we don't have time for that shit because everyone's too busy fighting and getting their ass kicked!"

"If they decided to you know ACTUALLY TRAIN they wouldn't get their asses kicked so much!" Oh she was actually having some fun with this now.

[Scott calmly grabbed some paper towels and walked over. Laying some down on the spill, he picked up the blueprints.]

How bad's the workload?

Your shit and mine are on the tiny-ass fucking pile I don't have to fucking fix.

FUCK those Inspectors! Fuck stupid ass bugs! Fuck being one of only five good mechanics on this fucking flying deathtrap.

[[He mad bro...]]

[And Scott's not reacting. Dude's had sergeants yelling in his face, and that's on a good day.]

How well do you think you'll manage a crew? Guys who can take orders and just put stuff together according to directions?

I did that once... But I had Festum breathing down my neck for two weeks... I think I was awake for like... thirty-something hours giving orders and overseeing shit.

And I like sleep

All right. Flynn's also working mechanics, but I can get the rest of the team on it. Even drag Dr. K out. Trust me, she'll have us working on it correctly as long as she sees the plans. That'll be about six people.

What, the whole team working on everyone else's machine?

Why not? Our own stuff doesn't need the maintenance right now, and if you seriously need that much help, then we'd be pretty terrible not to try to help out.

That's probably the best shit I've heard all day.

Still lost my drink and fucked up the blueprints though. Good thing it's only a copy of the shit.

Plus... I mean... who pilots that scrawny-ass thing?

Don't mention it. Just make sure you take a nap at some point. You need it.

[Laura just about manages to avoid dropping the wrench she's using on her foot.]

Bondsman Matthew doesn't.

"Stravag." He hisses to himself, picking the wrench back up, and gingerly repositioning his foot. "Do you think we should do something, Laura Ericks?"

Edited 2012-12-17 05:24 (UTC)

[Laura puts a finger to her lips before turning to MarKus, starting to pick up the blueprints and separate out the wet ones before the whole mess runs together.]

Matthew assists. Quietly.

Just as instructed.

What's wrong, Mister Markus?

FUckin everything!

[[Hello there... 28 was it? The one with the bandanna!]]

[Yes, it's the one with the bandanna!]

Oh no! Everything is wrong! Does that includes me? What can we do?

*The servbots starts to run around in circles*

I dunno man... we need... fuck... more mechanics... or less enemies...

[[Head in hands... he can't YELL at Servbots.]]

I... take it that was something important?

Yeah, that was my fuckin lunch!

[[Screw the Flag blueprints.]]

[What's this, MarKus not giving two shits about a possible design to work on?]

... Must've not been much on those blueprints then, I take it?

[[It's the Union Flag... Graham's flag... he was studying it but now he just gives no fuck.]]

The blueprints are the last thing I'm worried about Greg...

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