by MillietheWarrior » 09/28/2009 6:59 PM
Kicks drew his head back a little, leaning on one arm as he tried not to look too confused. What was this crazy girl talking about? Ticking time bomb killers? Kicks wondered if she was talking about the Clones. He felt slightly offended for a moment, his face taking on a disgruntled, somewhat annoyed look. Prudii seemed to catch wind of his train of thought, and elbowed him lightly, pointing to the cafeteria droid that still buzzed and whirred obliviously in it’s kitchen domain. Kicks’ face lightened up as understanding dawned on him. Well, it made sense. Madeline had just shot up a droid who’d shot up Prudii, and probably wasn’t feeling too friendly towards those of the metal and tin persuasion.
Kicks waved his hand with an amused grin, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Aw, come on. They aren’t that bad. And they’re only programmed to do what you want them to do. That sniper droid--I’m assuming it was a droid--was programmed to shoot and kill it’s targets. That one over there-” He jerked his thumb towards the food droid. “-Is programmed to cook semi-delicious food that is both bland and packed with nutrients to keep us boys strong, but devoid of any form of taste. Give it some time; you’ll probably end up liking them. Especially the ones that clean the rooms for you and pick up messes.” Trinket had stilled completely, avidly listening to what Kicks was saying as if his life depended on it. It seemed as though he always paid close attention to everything Kicks --and to that effect, almost any of his squad mates-- said.
His hand clutched the red fabric, frozen in mid-air with a needle in his free hand as he altered the pants to make the waist smaller. As Kicks fell silent, Trinket unfroze, his necklace clacking against his armor as he bent over the fatigues to alter them. Prudii watched him with an amused smile, a fond glow in his eyes. Trinket, though the same age as his brothers, always seemed like the youngest of them all. He was very impressionable, choosing to imitate whatever brother he happened to be with at the time. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own personality; he just chose to be more like his brothers, because he felt that was what everyone wanted. Prudii knew Trinket was slightly ashamed of himself for his mild case of kleptomania, and his apparent ‘weirdness’ as he called it.
No one seemed to pay him any mind, and it was all too easy for him to fade into the background or be forgotten. Trinket was scared to death of being left behind or forgotten; he showed this overwhelming fear both on and off the battlefield. When he was on the battlefield, he stuck close to his brothers, fighting like a crazy man to make sure he stayed near them, and taking down anything in his way. Even if he was the squad medic, he was still a soldier, and a dangerous and deadly one at that. Off the battlefield, he shadowed his brothers like a lost puppy, always trying to win affection and recognition for the things he did, and willing to do just about anything to be noticed and appreciated. Prudii knew he didn’t need to work so hard; his brothers, him included, loved Trinket for who he was, and accepted him as part of their odd, miss-matched family. But Trinket’s fear was overwhelming, and no matter how many assurances he’d received, he always worked hard not to fade away into the background and be forgotten.
Speaking of Trinket…Prudii looked up, eyeing his squad medic as Trinket held the fatigues up to inspect them with a critical eye. Prudii dipped his head, smile on his face as he took another bite of his food. He knew what was coming next, and he lifted his eyes slightly to watch. Trinket reached down and tugged on Madeline’s sleeves, nearly bouncing in his seat in his excitement. He pushed the fatigues towards her, quite happy with his work, and silently waiting for praise or recognition. His eyes seemed to spark with happiness at having done something good for once. Kicks leaned forward, head resting on his hands as he smiled softly. “Well, looks like he’s finished. They look good, Trink. Nice job.” He offered his brother a thumbs up; even if Madeline wouldn’t compliment him, Kicks would. Trinket nudged Madeline again, still looking excited to hear her verdict on the clothing.
[64,12,10]
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure! +Imp. Documents+ +Menagerie+ +Wishlist+ +Journal+