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mekachu04the whole damn thing is one big clusterfuck.
No one ever expected the Hosts to be down two pilots - leaving their one man out and a semi working suit. Micheal had been called away off site and gabreil had managed to break his arm trying god knows what.
the repairs to the suit where on azirpahles side, and he was confident that he could wrok aorund and shorts. the Beauacracy jsut needed someone to help him do that. the brothers of the E&E where loath to have an outsider in the suit - but needs must. adn crolwey got to be that lucky pilot seeing as he'd been the only one to really make any kind of azirpahle so far.
no body liked it.
crowley was actually expecting to like it - he did like azirpahle. the man was funny, but just mean enough that no one ever expected it from him. he was a riot. crolwey wasn't sure he liked the fact that he was going to essentially be piloting a malfuntioning half of a suit - but corlwey didn't know hte suit at all, so he really could not complain.
being thrown into battle was not the idea time to see if you where actually drfit compatable with someone, but there wasn't any better choises. corlwey shouldn't have been worried. he was about to discover the big dark secret of the Host pilots, and he would loath ever moment of it.
he and azirpahle where drift compatable. well... in the very loosest sence. one connected, all the two way feedback crolwey was tolt to expect - all the feedback he'd gotten on other attempts. non of it was their. just his own thoughts, and the suit. he was worried that they'd failed comepletely, but the suit moved with ease as corlwey instructed it.
it was... it was like he was solo piloting. not that he'd ever done that - but he immaged this was what it was like. and maybe it had failed and he was solo going - but they where under attack, and he'd rather die trying to stop it that die watching it happen, so he marched into battle.
the first clue tht he wasn't soloing was a nudge, like a sixth sence to dodge, and when he did, the errant blast form on of the other pilots cut thoughwhere he'd been. the radio cracked to life with apogies,a nd he sniped back and kept fighting.
it must be azirpahel - he figured out finally, and he followed a usggestion to strick,a nd he mad connection with the kaiji, sendong it stumbling back into a blow from one of hte other jagears. the other pilot was there, but he was almost comeplty silanced by crolwey. reduced to s asubconsious co-pilot.
a mind that could be comepltely swamped to essentially give the other pilot comeplree control. no teamwork nessisary. like an on board computer ready give suggetions, but no ability to manevous itself.
this wasn't a drift. this was a subjication. and he'd worry about the moraility of it later.
and worry he did. onec htey got back to base - the other three host poilots where already ready for them to dismbark. the all looked so solemn. corlwye wondered if they planned to dump his body somewhere to keep him from making a fuss. crolwey had turned to watch azripahle when they returned - the man mirroring his movements on automation, once wonderoudsly expressive face comepletely blank. like death.
even as he stepped out of the harness, azripahle said nothing. his head remained bowed down, gaze stubbronly othe floor and gabril stepped between them. croalwy wasnted to puthi sother arm in a cast. gabreil spoke in a low voice to his man, as metatron gestured for corwey to follow him. he went, but he did not shcool his face, letting the team leader know exactly how mush he disapproved.
No one ever expected the Hosts to be down two pilots - leaving their one man out and a semi working suit. Micheal had been called away off site and gabreil had managed to break his arm trying god knows what.
the repairs to the suit where on azirpahles side, and he was confident that he could wrok aorund and shorts. the Beauacracy jsut needed someone to help him do that. the brothers of the E&E where loath to have an outsider in the suit - but needs must. adn crolwey got to be that lucky pilot seeing as he'd been the only one to really make any kind of azirpahle so far.
no body liked it.
crowley was actually expecting to like it - he did like azirpahle. the man was funny, but just mean enough that no one ever expected it from him. he was a riot. crolwey wasn't sure he liked the fact that he was going to essentially be piloting a malfuntioning half of a suit - but corlwey didn't know hte suit at all, so he really could not complain.
being thrown into battle was not the idea time to see if you where actually drfit compatable with someone, but there wasn't any better choises. corlwey shouldn't have been worried. he was about to discover the big dark secret of the Host pilots, and he would loath ever moment of it.
he and azirpahle where drift compatable. well... in the very loosest sence. one connected, all the two way feedback crolwey was tolt to expect - all the feedback he'd gotten on other attempts. non of it was their. just his own thoughts, and the suit. he was worried that they'd failed comepletely, but the suit moved with ease as corlwey instructed it.
it was... it was like he was solo piloting. not that he'd ever done that - but he immaged this was what it was like. and maybe it had failed and he was solo going - but they where under attack, and he'd rather die trying to stop it that die watching it happen, so he marched into battle.
the first clue tht he wasn't soloing was a nudge, like a sixth sence to dodge, and when he did, the errant blast form on of the other pilots cut thoughwhere he'd been. the radio cracked to life with apogies,a nd he sniped back and kept fighting.
it must be azirpahel - he figured out finally, and he followed a usggestion to strick,a nd he mad connection with the kaiji, sendong it stumbling back into a blow from one of hte other jagears. the other pilot was there, but he was almost comeplty silanced by crolwey. reduced to s asubconsious co-pilot.
a mind that could be comepltely swamped to essentially give the other pilot comeplree control. no teamwork nessisary. like an on board computer ready give suggetions, but no ability to manevous itself.
this wasn't a drift. this was a subjication. and he'd worry about the moraility of it later.
and worry he did. onec htey got back to base - the other three host poilots where already ready for them to dismbark. the all looked so solemn. corlwye wondered if they planned to dump his body somewhere to keep him from making a fuss. crolwey had turned to watch azripahle when they returned - the man mirroring his movements on automation, once wonderoudsly expressive face comepletely blank. like death.
even as he stepped out of the harness, azripahle said nothing. his head remained bowed down, gaze stubbronly othe floor and gabril stepped between them. croalwy wasnted to puthi sother arm in a cast. gabreil spoke in a low voice to his man, as metatron gestured for corwey to follow him. he went, but he did not shcool his face, letting the team leader know exactly how mush he disapproved.
