The Machine Shop - Eidolon Wraith

[Enkidu]

Nesrin was midway through nearly getting her hand blown off by a positron flux from a defective shield battery as Foulke slid through the door, looking like a man with all the answers. His smile was sufficiently slappable for Nesrin consider striking him with her new-found, white hot, twisted fingertips.


"Give me a moment."

She yanked stopper off a steaming something that looked suspiciously like a barrel of liquid nitrogen and plunged herself in up to the arms. She could have been doing the washing up.

Nesrin snatched her freeze dried fingers out, and gave them a flex, shedding carbon ice as she stalked over. Rank or not, Foulke was in her lair now.

"What the hell do you think you're carrying, you think this is Fourteen Forty? Please tell me you didn't kill a fricking tree for this... oh great. You did. Strewth."


She squinted at the paper with the air of a fashion designer nose-gazing at a charity shop.


"Segmented combat armour, hm... no camouflage, clearly designed with coolness in mind... Borderline unoriginal... shot traps in the chest, neck and knees... sexy helmet though... give me that."

Nesrin snatched the paper from Fouke's hands, running it under a sensor plate. In the projection chamber, a three-D extrapolation of Foulke's suit design rose like a store mannequin, proportioned to his measurements.

"Foulke, whilst you've clearly put a lot of hours into this, you're not going to look like an action hero if the joints are placed in such a manner that its physically impossible to move." She adjusted accordingly, disentangling the suit's elbows from its shoulders until the design looked at least a little more plausible.

"Tell me what you're looking for and we'll work around with the wireframe until I'm convinced enough to run some concepts. First off, define what you want? An armature for indoors, in-ship, room-to-room standard infantry work, something you could sit in a cockpit with or get through a doorway, or a walking tank? The two exclude each other."

---

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)

Information | Recruitment | Message Dump |
Feedback | Diplomatic channel

(Links pending redevelopment).