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Snippet #2691471

located in Space, a part of Skylab 014 Genesis || Remake, one of the many universes on RPG.

Space

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Piper Lafleur Character Portrait: Helen Liu Character Portrait: Andreev Nicanor Character Portrait: Kevin King Character Portrait: Matilda Livingston Character Portrait: Quentin Fisher Character Portrait: Jon Wolff Character Portrait: Eric Zarzuela
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While normally people were setting up their belongings in a satisfactory way in their room, Eric was handling his own room in a different way. For one thing, there were three people in his room and everything was messy. Fortunately everyone was still clothed and the mess was more of the mechanical sort.

The room was small, white, and surprisingly tidy. What clothes he had was packed in the closet, and the books he had brought were stored neatly on the shelf. Small trinkets were kept in a box that was tucked underneath his bed, and the bed was empty except for the twenty-four year old man sprawled on the covers, humming what sounded suspiciously like an off-tune version of Eminem as he flipped through a book with planets on the cover.

The floor was, unlike the rest of the room, covered in a clear plastic tarp. Tools were scattered all over it, and seated on the tarp was another young man with similar features to the man on the bed, bent over a metallic leg belonging to a brown-haired man with a grimace on his face, although whether it was from the music or from the messing around with his prosthetic leg was difficult to guess.

"Dude, you done?" Eric asked, looking back down at his leg. Dressed in an olive-green jacket that had been pulled over a black shirt and loose brown shorts, Eric would have looked a bit as if he were posing with one leg outstretched and one pulled loosely up against his chest, leaning back against the side of his bed as he drummed his fingers lightly against the floor in accompaniment to Akira's off-tuned humming - if it weren't for the tools surrounding him and Makoto bent over his leg. "It's been over half an hour. Also, Chocolate."

Some of the joints in his right leg had been a bit creaky lately, squeaking whenever he bent his right leg or taking a few seconds to respond to his movement. Probably a bad joint connection or something. While Eric would normally deal with it himself in the form of percussive maintenance, it hadn't worked this time and so Eric had sought Makoto - and by extension Akira - out. And thus the slumber party in Eric's room had taken place.

It seemed to be coming to an end now. "I told you, not long now." Makoto muttered, not looking up from where he was staring at. Inwardly, Eric marvelled over how fast his leg had gone back to normal - only five minutes ago it had looked like a mess of wires and metal. Fingers trailing over the smooth metal with practiced motions, Makoto grabbed a screwdriver and continued to work. "I just need to screw everything back together. E... Eels. Akira?"

"Shark!" Akira replied breezily, not looking up from the book he was reading. He flipped the page, beginning on a new chapter as he continued "Shark's are edible - shark fin soup. Right Eric?"

"Yeah." Eric answered dully, closing his eyes. "Endangered though, so a lot of people are using faux shark fin. Honey - Ow fuck!" Eric winced as a familiar current ran through him, causing him to jolt and bang his back against the bed as he bit his lip to stop more pained exclamations from escaping. While Eric's prosthetics weren't too bad (shabby and old but well-used and well maintained), it definitely wasn't one of the top-of-the-line models that made reconnecting a synch. "Dammit, Makoto, warn me next time!"

"Ah, sorry! I forgot." Makoto apologised. Akira snickered, but gave Eric a pat on the shoulder as he scowled up at Akira, waiting for the tingling to fade. Straightening up with a stretch that popped the bones in his back and arms, Makoto gave Eric an apologetic smile. "Um. Some of the wires were loose; I tightened them up. I also did some maintenance. Should be alright now. Test it out?"

"Sure." Standing up, Eric did a few test stretches. "Hey, it worked!" No more squeaking sounds, and the response time was faster too. He shot a grin at Makoto, who was busy packing away his tools. "Thanks man. Also-"

He was interrupted by the speaker. Piper's voice filled the room, asking them all to meet in the central room.

"We've got a report to catch." Akira finished for him. Closing the book with a snap, he rolled off the bed, landing lightly on his feet with a grin. "C'mon, lets go! Race ya!" He grinned mischievously at the two, eyes twinkling. "First one to win gets Eric's onion soup, yeah?"

"Oh, onion soup?" Makoto asked hopefully, finishing his clean-up. Placing the rolled up tarp into his bag, he slipped it into the pouch at his side, straightening up. "i like onion soup. You're definitely not beating me in this one."

"Oh, so I'm making the prize? So glad to know that I have no say in this," Eric grumbled, slipping on his shoes. There was no heat to it, however, and there was a faint grin on his face as he asked his question, already knowing the answer. "So what does that mean if I win?"

"That you don't have to make the soup, of course!" Akira laughed, slapping Eric on the back as he made his way past him. The shorter man whirled around to smile at them, walking backwards. Eric's eyes narrowed. He had just enough time to notice that Akira had one hand on the door before the grin turned sly and Akira said "But that doesn't matter because I'm gonna win anyway!" and ran off, door banging open as the younger Kawasaki charged down the hall.

Two voices yelled after him, interrupting the peal of laughter. "Like hell you will!"

-------------

Fortunately for Eric, he made it to the control room first. Thank goodness for the maintenance - it helped that he could push both legs longer than normal thanks to them being, well, fake and not at risk of lactic acid. Unfortunately Akira had whined about losing, but one small cuff on the shoulder and a few shared jokes later and they split up, Makoto heading to his own buddies with a private smile on his face while Akira bounced towards the other pilots, chattering excitedly.

Eric, meanwhile, stuck to the back of the room. Folding his arms across his chest, he gave a few small waves or nods whenever someone he recognised entered, although he refrained from conversation. Waiting patiently, he leant against the wall, waiting to find out the purpose of why they were all called there.