runmakitarun | As with most things, there is a beginning

Entry tags:

oom,
war in bahamut

As with most things, there is a beginning

Earlier today Makita spoke to the people on her team she could find, and left notes with Bar for those she couldn't. Today is the day. It's time to go back.

While she's spoken to her team about what to expect, at least to some degree, no one's gotten a full briefing yet. She's pushed some tables out of the way to form a sort of open space in one corner of the bar, and as people begin to arrive she's starting to unpack the five military-style duffel bags at her feet, laying the contents out on the tables nearby. Grenades, mines, boxes of ammo, and a few guns are slowly spread out like a deadly little buffet.

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"Did you tell her she should stop making it look so fun?" Mel asks, then slides her small backpack off her back. "That reminds me, I have something for you..."

After a little chuckle and a shake of her head, Goldy's demeanor turns inquisitive.

"You do?"

"Yep."

Mel's beaming by the time she pulls out a small package wrapped in saran wrap, which she hands over.

Goldy might just have enough time to discover it's a round of PB and jelly sandwiches on white bread with the crusts cut off, before Mel's other hand comes forward to present a Bionic Woman thermos, which inspection will reveal is filled with milky tea.

"He wanted to do rounds for everyone, but I didn't know who else was coming."

The delivery is met by a fond smile. And it gets even fonder when the packaging and contents are properly examined.

"Aww. Iron rations Mikey-style."

"You have the sweetest boyfriend," she declares as the items are stowed. "And here was I, thinking you were about to pull out another embarrassing piece of winter wear for me."

She nods at the fur hat that Steph loaned her for the trip and wrinkles her nose distastefully.

"I know."

Mel's winter wear isn't that much better, although a lot less practical: a bright orange sweatshirt, a long matching scarf and mittens. These last don't look like they're ever going to get worn: they're hanging from her belt like patches, and instead she has fingerless gloves of her own. Her strategy is to freeze, to kill, then get her ass back to bar to warm up.

"Don't tell him that, though. You'll just encourage him."

Goldy squints at Mel confusedly.

"You don't like him to do sweet things?"

"Prefer it when he's doing kickass ninja things?" Mel admits. "Especially if he's naked when he's doing it."

A guffaw of raucous laughter follows that response.

"Okay, okay. That definitely makes sense. I love the way you think, Mel."

Her mirth fades into a smirk.

"...Excepting your choice of camouflage." She nods at the gaudy sweatshirt. "You do have something to go over that, right?"

"It belongs to the ninja," Mel points out.

"I'm kind of planning to kill people fore they notice me."

"Um... okay."

She sounds pretty skeptical.

"It's just... people tend to wear orange in order to get noticed when there's poor visibility. Construction workers, cyclists, etcetera etcetera." She glances at Makita, then at Bar. "How about a super light wind cheater in white or gray to go over it?"

She screws her face up apologetically.

"I know you're good. But it would be a shame if something so easily fixed were to end up compromising the mission."

"The mission to kill a lot of people?" Mel returns.

"I'm here as Slayer, not thief."

Goldy bites down on her lip as she musters a suitably inoffensive reply.

"We'll be the ones getting killed if we're spotted by aerial reconnaissance before we reach the intended targets."

Mel smirks slowly, looking at Goldy slowly from her boots up, lingering on her hair.

"I'm here 'cause of my skill in not getting killed," she says dryly. "We don't all get to rely on immortality and a fashionable wardrobe. You want me to leave my weapons behind too?"

Goldy opens her mouth, then closes it and just glares a little.

Mel does have a point. Mike's sweatshirt isn't the only garish thing about her. There's the bright red of her scythe blade and handgun. And there's also the purple hair.

"Fine," she says, with playful huffiness. "But I'll tell you this, Rainbow Brite, if I get blasted because your kaleidoscopic kit compromises us, I'm not going to be a happy bunny."

"I'll pay if your shirt gets damaged, Princess," Mel allows, with a gracious grin.

If she was addressing someone other than Mel about this issue, Goldy might be annoyed. But she does have a lot of faith in the Slayer's abilities, so she's actually just amused.

She can't let that nickname stand though.

"Hey. Easy with the Princess thing. I'm not that bad."

Mel glances again at Goldy's matching pants and jacket, and shrugs.

"Anything you say."

Goldy follows Mel's glance, her top lip curling in bemusement.

"What's wrong with these? They're standard US Army fatigues. Gen 2 GORE-TEX, Arctic snow camo. Not exactly the height of combat fashion. Just functional."

"Yeah?" Mel asks, and shrugs. "You'd know."

A little frown, and then a shrug back.

"Excuse me for doing a bit of research on how to stay warm and as invisible as possible. I don't have super strength and agility."

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As with most things, there is a beginning

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