22
Apr
missdelite:

David Chiang [via]

missdelite:

David Chiang [via]

reblogged 5 months ago @ 10:00 pm with 8 notes via/source
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#fc #pictures
22
Apr

agentkansas:

“No, not exactly.” Kansas shook her head, twisting the wrench around the valve’s opening. “The hole’s much too small to be causing all this smoke. There must be something wrong inside the valve.”

The mechanic tugged on the wrench with one hand. It refused to move. She pulled with both hands now and ended with the same result. Kansas leaned back, huffing at the valve. It just didn’t want to cooperate with her today. She brushed aside a few stray hairs, taking the flashlight from her mouth and stuffing it into her hair.

“Thought you might be a city boy. Your hair gave it away,” she laughed a little at Mary. She bent back over and readied her arms to pull again. She jerked the wrench around. It began to loosen and she continued to chat as she worked. “That’s good to hear. You close to them?”

With one final tug, the wrench was free, popping the lid right off. It flew up and bounced against the hood before Kansas caught it. She flipped the cap around to make sure it wasn’t dented. Aside from a few scraps, it was still useable.

Kansas pocked the cap and returned to examining the valve. She removed the small flashlight from her hair. Leaning farther in, she shined the light through the hollow tubing, checking to see if it would show anymore holes. Nothing came through aside from the single one.

Kansas paused when she heard Mary assume she was from England. The corners of her mouth curved downward as she stared at him. “People always guess I’m from England. My accent isn’t British, it’s Australian. You should be careful not assume Mary, it’s…oh, what that saying you Americans have?”

She tilted her head back, tapping fingers over her chin. “Oh, right. It makes an arse out of you and me.”

Her eyes lingered on Mary for another moment, waiting for his reaction. She kept a serious tone and stared. Her cheeks began to puff out and she coughed, covering her mouth to subside the giggles. Another cough and more snorting. Her poker face fell, wild curls bouncing as she chuckled at him.

“Haha, sorry Mary.” She smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “You gave me an opening I had to take. I lived outside Oxford with my mothers. They’re both still there will my little one.”

As she explained, Mary couldn’t help himself from peering inside the engine, as if he expected to see the valve she was talking about. Truly, he should have known better, as Kansas herself needed to bend like a pretzel and use a flash light to examine the problem. Still, he found himself looking into the jumble of machinery that he knew nothing about. 

Her comment threw him off once again, snapping him back to his normal posture. She could tell he was from the city because of his hair? Well, he certainly did keep it well kept—that was important to him. Though, he had thought that was because he had grown up with an inspiring hair stylist. 

"Really?" he asked, eyes trailing back to the engine a little. "My hair gave me away? —Ah, a-and, yeah. Close enough. Sister stays in touch a lot, and my parents and brother always badger her for updates." He gave half a chuckle, thinking of how she had described the last holiday—everyone asking her for updates on him, instead of trying to contact him. Apparently she was ‘better with details’.

The lid finally coming free and smacking against the warthog’s hood cut off his memories, and left the rest of his chuckle in his throat. He had lost focus for a second, and hadn’t been expecting the clang; his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. It hardly seemed to phase Kansas, though, as she casually reached up to catch the cap and examine it. Mary let out a soft sigh, and turned his attention back to her as she answered his question.

A heavy weight seemed to settle is his stomach, and his shoulders tensed a little more. Oh, he had misheard her accent…! His expression seemed stuck on a slightly surprised and slightly apologetic look. He had always hated when others would always make stupid assumptions similar to that about him. And he had just tried to do the same with Kansas.

"Oh, god, I’m sorry, Kansas," he started to say quickly, but was cut off by first a cough and then snorts and giggles. Brows knitting together in confusion for a moment, Mary very quickly caught on that it had been a joke. Letting out a breath, the freelancer rookie shook his head and smiled. "You got me, there, Kansas." Had he still not been holding the hood, he would have risked giving her a playful nudge on the shoulder. Instead, he returned to the conversation. "You have a kid?"

reblogged 5 months ago @ 09:58 pm with 12 notes via/source
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#in which i take 5ever to reply to a thread omfg #i'm sorry OTL #agentkansas
01
Mar
reblogged 7 months ago @ 03:36 pm with 15 notes via/source
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#fc #pictures
01
Mar

thatbitch-tex:

agt-maryland:

He’d grown up always hearing people talk about their ‘survival plans’ if ‘something like that ever happened’. Talk of where they’d go first, how they’d hold out, and what sort of ideas they had for getting supplies. At the time, it had all seemed pretty dumb—he himself had never thought anything out because ‘as if something like that would ever happen—grow up’.

He wondered if any of those plans had worked out.

Pryce ducked behind a car and paused, catching his breath. He could still hear the groans and grunts of his two ‘infected’ pursuers not far from where he was crouched. These were persistent ones. And more difficult to take down bare handed than most—he’d almost been bit two times now. Or maybe it was his own fatigue. Either or.  

Running a hand through his hair, Pryce plunged his hand into his coat. He let out an irritated sigh as he pulled out a clip. He hated using his guns. The shots always had the possibility of alerting more ‘zombies’. Or other survivors. Problems came with both options. 

His gun loaded, he stood up again. Taking aim, Pryce fired three shots. Head shot, chest shot, head shot. He stayed still for a while, not even bothering to lower his weapon. Listening was his top priority—to determine whether those shots had drawn any more attention to himself. 

The stairwell was dark. All power in the building had been cut days before. With every turn, more and more stairs laid out before Allison. Her breath was shallow and ragged as she flew up yet another flight of stairs, the groans of monsters deemed unnatural, and unreal far below.  

One more flight. That was all she could take, hoping that their was indeed a roof top exit. Spinning around one more corner and she could see it, the tiny slither of light, shinning through the bottom of the door. With all her might she burst through the door into the light of day. 

Not giving herself time to relish the warmth of being outside, she slammed the door and padlocked it shut. Allison wanted nothing more than to stretch out on the dirty roof top and catch her breath but the sound of three gun shots stopped her.

Sprinting to the roof’s edge, there, in the street was a survivor. Not just any survivor, one with a gun. Plans formulated in her head, all with the same goal. Get the ammo. This world had become survival of the fittest and being low on ammo herself she had to do what was necessary to survive. 

The stairwell was out of the question when it came to getting back to the ground floor. The fire escape on the next building over seemed the only other logical way down. But she had to be quick, who knew how long the survivor would leave themselves open for. 

With all speed, Allison scaled down the fire escape into a poorly-lit ally way. Grabbing the rifle strapped to her back she stepped out into the light, gun raised and adrenaline pumping.

"Give me your ammo, and i’ll spare you your life."

The rifle pointed at him was met with his own handgun. Whoever this woman was, she was damn impressive. Despite the area being fairly quiet—well, for the most part—after his shots, he still hadn’t heard her approach until it was too late. Pryce had barely had enough time to point his gun in the right direction. 

So she wanted his ammo. He scowled. This was why survivors were tricky. They either wanted supplies or they wanted protection. Neither were favorable situations. While the woman in front of him looked tired, he had no doubts that she could hold her own in a fight.

Pryce said nothing for a few moments, defiantly pointing his handgun at her while she pointed her rifle at him. A regular stand off. And she seemed pretty set in her decision. He doubted he could negotiate his way out of this one.  

—Well, he could at least try. If he tried to run he’d just get a bullet in his back. If he tried to fight, he had his doubts. Her physique suggested she was pretty strong. But If he could bullshit his way through at least the beginnings of a conversation there could be an opportunity to make a break for it. 

"You think my ammo will be of any use to you and your damn rifle?" Pryce asked. To his left, he could hear some distant shuffling noises and the occasional groan. It was still a fair ways off, but he knew damn well that if this didn’t wrap up quick, their little stand off would get more players. 

reblogged 7 months ago @ 03:21 pm with 2 notes via/source
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#thatbitchtex #zombieau #rvbrpevent
07
Feb

He’d grown up always hearing people talk about their ‘survival plans’ if ‘something like that ever happened’. Talk of where they’d go first, how they’d hold out, and what sort of ideas they had for getting supplies. At the time, it had all seemed pretty dumb—he himself had never thought anything out because ‘as if something like that would ever happen—grow up’.

He wondered if any of those plans had worked out.

Pryce ducked behind a car and paused, catching his breath. He could still hear the groans and grunts of his two ‘infected’ pursuers not far from where he was crouched. These were persistent ones. And more difficult to take down bare handed than most—he’d almost been bit two times now. Or maybe it was his own fatigue. Either or.  

Running a hand through his hair, Pryce plunged his hand into his coat. He let out an irritated sigh as he pulled out a clip. He hated using his guns. The shots always had the possibility of alerting more ‘zombies’. Or other survivors. Problems came with both options. 

His gun loaded, he stood up again. Taking aim, Pryce fired three shots. Head shot, chest shot, head shot. He stayed still for a while, not even bothering to lower his weapon. Listening was his top priority—to determine whether those shots had drawn any more attention to himself. 

posted 7 months ago @ 01:54 am with 2 notes
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#thatbitchtex #rvbrpevent
27
Jan

agentkansas:

"Nothing wrong with that." Kansas chuckled a little. "Not so good with public transportation myself. Grew up on a farm, tractors and trailers were more familiar to me than any public bus."

She leaned in farther, her flashlight filtering through the valves and pipes better from the raised hood. “Thank you, dear,” she said aside to Mary.

Her attention returned back to the engine, where grey smoke was now illuminated by the light. The wispy cloud was forming from a smaller valve near the back of the main engine. Kansas smiled, one clue had been found, bring her closer to solving the mystery.

"Looks like I found something," she said quickly, ducking her head down and searching her pockets for a wrench. "Keep the hood up if you can Mary and let me know if your arms start to get sore. We can stop."

Kansas shoved the flashlight into her mouth and dove back into the belly of the beast. Her body was bent at an awkward angle, the lower half stiff as a board, but the upper portion coiling around like a snake. With all the years she spent bending and twisting her body to fit in strange places for napping, it was no wonder she was something of a human pretzel. Minus the salty aftertaste.

"It’s a leak of sorts," she muttered, the flashlight muffling her words. She twisted the wrench around the valve, finding it too small and switched it out for a larger one. "Should help lead me to the problem. So, Mary, where did you live around? Urban city or rural outskirts like me?"

A small grin flashed on his face for a second. He was glad that doing something as simple as holding the hood was a help for her. Extending his arms a bit more as she spoke, Mary lifted it a bit higher. And just as he was about to offer a ‘no problem’ in response to her ‘thank you’, Kansas had dived right back in to the engine. 

"—Ah…" he trailed off before giving what sounded like a soft laugh. Her body was bent at angles that Mary hadn’t been sure were possible. But she didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. Flexible, she was. "Don’t worry about me, Kansas. I can hold this up for a while." 

A little time passed as Kansas dug around in the engine and Mary held the hood. For a moment, Mary let one of his arms drop from the hood. Grabbing his hair that had been slowly slipping from its binder, he shoved it to his left side and draped it over his shoulder. He also took the opportunity to brush a few strands from his face. 

As soon as Kansas’s voice echoed out from the engine, Mary slipped his hand back to give the hood support from both of his arms. Seemed as if she had found a leak. Now, Mary knew next to nothing about vehicles, but even he knew that a leak wasn’t good. But the way she talked, it didn’t seem like the leak was the root of the problem. 

Her questioning about where he lived dragged him out of ‘vehicle’ thoughts a little and he gave as best a shrug he could while holding something over his head. No one had really asked about his civilian life before, and he hadn’t bothered to ask anyone else. It was almost kinda nice to hear bits and pieces about Kansas’s life—how she had grown up in a rural area.

"The leak itself isn’t the problem?" he asked before moving on. "And big city for me. Grew up in Chicago." Mary paused a little, shifting his weight and thinking of home for a few seconds. "Most of my family’s still there, actually."

—He wasn’t quite sure why he had tacked that on at the end.

"What about you, Kansas? What rural outskirts of England did you grow up in?" He stopped a second, face twisting into an idiotic look as he added on quietly. "—England, right?"

reblogged 8 months ago @ 04:44 pm with 12 notes via/source
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#news flash mary's a dumb #agentkansas #bifi
14
Jan
reblogged 8 months ago @ 06:53 pm with 2 notes via/source
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#pictures #fc
14
Jan

agentkansas:

“Oh she didn’t mean to, did you girl?” Kansas patted the uplifted hood of vehicle lightly. “She’s got a nasty stomach ache in need of fixing. But thank you for coming by, a little company is always nice to have.” She offered a small smile towards Mary. He seemed like a fine lad and had lovely locks. She’d have to remember next time to ask him how he got his hair so nicely styled. Hers could always use some help, tangles were a hard thing for her to tame. But hair styling came second in this instance.

“Well it’s your lucky day then. You get to see how a mechanic works firsthand,” she replied with a faint glimmer in her eyes. Kansas enjoyed being able to share her love of mechanic work and repair with her son, so why not extend it to others? She took the toolbox from his hands with a curt thank you and set it down beside her. She bent her knees, lifting the locking latch with a flick of the finger and began to pull out several different tools she’d need to work.

“Tell me Mary, how much do you know about vehicles?” Kansas asked as she pulled a small and medium sized wrench from the red box. She glanced upwards a few times as she continued to gather the few remaining tools. A row of several different sized wrenches and other tools were lined up on the ground. It wasn’t the neatest line, but suited Kansas just fine.

“That should do it.” She clapped her hands together and stood back up. She had the flashlight in her hands now, plucking it from her pant pocket. She clicked a button on the small handheld light. A bright beamed shined out it and covered the entire upper hood in light. A few rays bounced off the reflective hood and made a miniature disco of sorts. Kansas laughed a little, lowering her hand until the flashlight was illuminating the inner section of the engine.

As she leaned in closer, seeking the source of the smoke leakage, she spoke out, “Mary mind lifting the hood a bit higher? It’s still casting a shadow and making it a bit hard to see inside.” Her voiced echoed from the inside of the car. It sounded less like a kind request and more like an ominous voice booming from the depths of the earth.   

Watching a mechanic work firsthand—his lucky day. Well, maybe Kansas was right. After all, she seemed rather passionate about her work.

His eyes strayed to the vehicle for a moment, looking it over once more. She spoke about it with such affection. She had even called it ‘she’ and ‘girl’. For a split second, a part of him almost thought it strange, but the feeling quickly left. When so much work has been poured into maintaining—caring for something, there’s bound to be some sort of… attachment. 

Hell, he felt that way about his hair. As stupid as it sounded in his head. 

Forcing his mind to move on, Mary took a few steps closer to Kansas as she arranged her tools before practically diving into the engine itself. He simply remained quiet, watching. Though, he did fidget some, shifting his weight to keep his legs mildly occupied. That was something Mary really did hate about himself—his silly, little inability to stay still for too long.

"How much do I—?" Her question stopped his moving, and he gave a  short laugh. "To be honest, Kansas, I know next to nothing about vehicles. I used public transportation all my life and to this day don’t even have a driver’s license."

Her booming voice made him chuckle a little, but he did what he was told. Grabbing the warthog’s hood, he lifted it higher, hoisting himself slightly onto his toes. 

reblogged 8 months ago @ 06:35 pm with 12 notes via/source
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#agentkansas #bifi
09
Jan

agentkansas:

The smoke had mostly cleared after a few minutes, though some stubbornly remained, blowing out from a hole in the engine somewhere. Kansas had managed to return her breathing to a regular pace, lungs no longer clogged by smoke. She took a step back, away from the vehicle in need of repair. Distance was the first step in approaching any problem. Her mind needed to see the whole picture, piecing together the small clues until she had a clear theory as to what was causing the warthog to no longer function properly.

Kansas folded her arms one over the other as she leisurely walked around the outer edges of the vehicle. She examined the vehicle from afar, taking in what details she could, even as minor as the fallen screwdriver beside the front wheel. Every bit counted in this mystery. She hadn’t failed though to hear the sound of heavy footsteps echoing the vehicle garage.

The mechanic turned her head halfway, standing still on the opposite side of the car from where she had started. Who was entering her workspace? It wasn’t as if they would be bothering her, back in the army she had to work alongside other soldiers who specialized in vehicle repair. And that was in much smaller spaces with dozens of rookies and veterans running back and forth in between drills, training and actual combat. Distractions were merely a trifle for her, hardly even a disturbance. Still even she was entitled to some curiosity, it was the basis for human nature, was it not?

“Oh, Agent Maryland. Didn’t know you were coming by. Something I can help you with love?” She greeted her fellow agent, lowering her arms as she entered a more relaxed state. There were still many agents aboard the MOI that Kansas had yet to meet but Maryland was a new recruit like herself, having joined up sometime before she had arrived.

“Seems to be. The girl’s got something wrong with her, but for the life of me I can’t quite figure it out,” she responded with honesty. She had circled the four-wheeler twice over but could not find any external issues. The body was sleek as could be, already outfitted with new armour plating courtesy of Kansas. It wasn’t linked to anything outside of the warthog, so the only conclusion was to head inside the vehicle. “Something inside her isn’t working right. I intend to find it and fix it up.”

Kansas ran a hand through her curly hair, fingers caught in between tangles and knots. She’d need to brush it again once she had a free moment, for now a hair tie would do. She yanked the rubber band off her wrist and tied her hair into a stubby tail, curly strands sticking out from the stump. She walked over to the open engine of the vehicle, taking a closer look inside to see if she could find more clues.

“Mary, could you be a dear and bring that red toolbox beside the back wheels over here? I’m going to need my flashlight to peek in the narrower cavities,” she asked Mary, nudging with her shoulder towards the rear end of the vehicle. Now that he was here, at least for the moment, she could use an extra hand. “Oh, but only if you’ve got the time. I don’t want to keep you from anything important you might be doing,” she added in afterwards, hands resting on the edges of the hood as she lifted her head to address him.

"Need something?" He shook his head. "No, I just ended up around here and thought I’d say hi. And make sure you were still breathing after the warthog attacked you with smoke." While the smoke had dispersed, a faint smell of it still hung in the air—probably coming from the car?

Oh, he had no clue. He was terrible with vehicles. His primary modes of transportation had always been public transportation. You didn’t need to know how it worked, so long as it got you to where you were going. 

Kansas’s voice cut through his thoughts, and she explained that she didn’t know what was wrong with the warthog. Just that it was on the inside. Turning his attention away from it for a moment, he glanced at his fellow rookie. She stared at the vehicle with both traces of puzzlement and determination. At least, that’s what Mary interpreted it as. 

She began to tie her hair up and he cracked half a smile. Kansas had nice hair. Sure, perhaps were she not working, a brush could help clear a few knots, but there wasn’t time for that right now. Not while there was work to do. Even still—tangles or no, Mary found her curls to be quite nice. 

—Oh, god dammit. Here he was thinking about hair of all things when Kansas had asked him to get a toolbox. Nice going, Mary. This wasn’t Colly’s workshop where he could babble about hair tips. 

"Nah, I don’t have anywhere to be for a while," he said and jogged over to the tool box. Hoisting it up, he walked back around to present it to Kansas. 

reblogged 8 months ago @ 12:03 am with 12 notes via/source
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#randomly gets distracted by hair #gdi mary #agentkansas #bifi
02
Jan

agentkansas:

The quiet hum of the engine was like a lullaby to Kansas’s ears. She ran her fingers over the steering handle of the four-wheeler, pressing her heel lightly against the gas pedal. The vehicle’s engine made a roaring sound that put a lion’s roar to shame. Smoke flew out the exhaust pipe in short bursts in union with the engine’s noises. The ship’s resident vehicle expert smiled lovingly at the sounds, her baby was getting better. The howls died down as Kansas eased her foot back, but a newer sound emerged.

The engine began to hiss, puttering as it struggled to go on. Kansas’s eyebrows arched down, crinkling lines filling her forehead. What was the source of the sudden change in sound? It was as if something suddenly became caught in one of the turbines or was blocking the gears from working right.

"Something’s clogging up your valves girl, isn’t it?" She asked the question to no living being in the room, patting the warthog’s windshield. She inched back her heel from the pedal until the engine died down again. Kansas swung her legs around, hanging them over the edge of the seat. In one swift motion she leapt out the open side of the car, landing on the ground without fail.

Kansas landed with her legs bent, squatting down with arms outstretched to avoid any potential mishaps. She could only imagine what the others would say if she sprained her ankle because she leapt out the side of a stationary vehicle. At least with one in motion she could pass it off as an interesting injury story to be told in later years.

"Right now, no time to dilly dally. Need to see what’s not working inside you girly," Kansas spoke softly, concern in her words. She pressed her palms to the ground and bent her arms, pushing off to return her to a standing position. She was upright in no time, rolling her shoulders as she approached the hood of the four-wheeler.

The vehicle mechanic used her left hand to unlock the engine cover and popped the lip up with her right. Even through the brief cracks she could see wisps of grey smoke attempting to escape. That was never a good sign. “Well, sometimes you need to go head first into cold water if you want to learn to swim,” Kansas repeated an old motto of her mum’s, bracing herself for the oncoming troubles.

She lifted the hood up with both hands and a cloud of smoke erupted from the confines of the car. Kansas could barely see, coughing from the awful stench that was produced. She managed to secure the side latches that would keep the hood propped up in her wheezing fit.

She waved her hands about in a poor mannered attempt to clear the lingering smog. It managed to work to some degree, the darkened clouds fading away in several swings. A bit of the smoke remained however, still being emitted from somewhere inside the engine. Kansas gave another hefty cough, clearing her lugs of the gasoline exhaust, taking in the recycled air. She was going to need all the oxygen she could muster to handle this job.

He had already lost track of how long it had been. The hallways had just flown by, and Mary hadn’t paid any attention to where he’d end up. It had started out as a jog to fill the time, but eventually it had turned into a full blown run. Which, in its own way, was good, because he had skipped his usual morning routine. Need to make up for it somehow. 

Trotting to a stop, he leaned forward to steady himself and catch his breath. Mary took in slow, deep breaths of air, trying to remember the last time he’d actually just ran. No training, fighting, or obstacles—simply running. A while, he decided. 

Finally taking the time to absorb his surroundings, Mary noticed he was near the vehicle garage. Giving a stretch, and looking around for a display to check the time, he wasn’t prepared for the sudden rev of an engine echoing from inside. Though, to be fair, he really should not have been expecting anything different. 

After a subtle flinch at the sound, Mary moved to the closest door, peering inside. In truth, he had wondered for half a second if someone was fooling around with one of the warthogs. However, when he saw Kansas—the newest addition to Freelancer—jumping out of the vehicle, he knew better. She was working.

He was about to turn and leave—he didn’t want to bother or distract her—but what was when a cloud of smoke emerged from the engine. Poor Kansas was left coughing and waving her arms around in an attempt to clear it away. Mary wasn’t exactly sure why he began to walk over—after all, he doubted he could be much help. But hell, he had some time to kill.

"Hey, Kansas," Mary said. He raised one hand to swat some remaining smoke away and another to wipe sweat off his brow still left from his run. "Problems with the warthog?"  

reblogged 9 months ago @ 12:56 am with 12 notes via/source
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#mary must make a habit of showing up in people's workspaces #mary stahp #agentkansas #bifi