Post by viruswithshoes on Oct 13, 2019 16:07:42 GMT -5
Toulon stepped out of a sweltering workshop stripped to the waist which exposed a torso covered in scars and burns. Those and the two extra arms made of black steel jutting from his body made most people who had seen him so exposed turn whiter than the pale cyborg.
To the black haired man trying to forge metal parts for cybernetic limbs it meant a great deal to be that vulnerable in front of another human being.
Pan was one of those human beings.
Attaining a temporary home for his crew had taken Toulon's entire stock of prosthetic limbs, a slightly embellished version of the sad story of how The Black Cross lost their clinic in a battle with The Night Stand as well as the four armed cyborg pleading with his forehead planted firmly on the floor of The Cogs' compound in Cogs Hollow.
In addition to a place to stay and resources Toulon had negotiated a non-aggression pact with The Cogs.
Toulon and his weaponized puppets and Pan with his death machines contradicted both men's pacifistic natures. It made bonding a faster process. They were the same kind of oddity.
The black haired man's idea of a free clinic within Funkyard appealed to the white haired one as long as there would be no trouble from the Steel Talons or Marines.
"Don't upset the fragile equilibrium we have here, Toulon."
"I just want to establish a clinic, not looking to destabilize any existing power structures."
The Captain of The Black Cross had a plan. Establish an alliance or treaty with each of the three powers of the island and leave some of his doctors.
It was simple but he knew it wouldn't be easy. Experience with war taught the former battlefield medic that human beings naturally gravitated towards war but he tried to remain optimistic.
After a short bath and trimming his unruly uni-brow until it became two separate eyebrows, the four armed cyborg with the long two pronged beard dressed himself in his unwashed black suit and white, oil splattered lab coat.
The compound Toulon and his crew called their temporary home was abuzz with activity. Doctors on duty were dealing with the minor and major wounds that the engineers of The Cogs caused themselves dealing with dangerous machinery. Some even took the opportunity to use some of Toulon's prosthetic arms and legs.
As a doctor himself, Toulon felt at home with his medical staff, but, Andromeda and Khali, who he deemed his command staff, were a different matter. As a shipwright and navigator, respectively, the doctor with the shoulder length ebony hair felt awkward dispensing orders to mistresses of disciplines that were a mystery to him.
Though space was not at a premium in the Cog compound the two women had to share quarters. Toulon was given a space to sleep but had not used it. He simply fell asleep at whatever work bench he was working on at the time.
He knocked on their door and fidgeted. He would need their intimidating looks to help his negations with The Steel Talons for things to go well and their strength in case things went poorly.
To the black haired man trying to forge metal parts for cybernetic limbs it meant a great deal to be that vulnerable in front of another human being.
Pan was one of those human beings.
Attaining a temporary home for his crew had taken Toulon's entire stock of prosthetic limbs, a slightly embellished version of the sad story of how The Black Cross lost their clinic in a battle with The Night Stand as well as the four armed cyborg pleading with his forehead planted firmly on the floor of The Cogs' compound in Cogs Hollow.
In addition to a place to stay and resources Toulon had negotiated a non-aggression pact with The Cogs.
Toulon and his weaponized puppets and Pan with his death machines contradicted both men's pacifistic natures. It made bonding a faster process. They were the same kind of oddity.
The black haired man's idea of a free clinic within Funkyard appealed to the white haired one as long as there would be no trouble from the Steel Talons or Marines.
"Don't upset the fragile equilibrium we have here, Toulon."
"I just want to establish a clinic, not looking to destabilize any existing power structures."
The Captain of The Black Cross had a plan. Establish an alliance or treaty with each of the three powers of the island and leave some of his doctors.
It was simple but he knew it wouldn't be easy. Experience with war taught the former battlefield medic that human beings naturally gravitated towards war but he tried to remain optimistic.
After a short bath and trimming his unruly uni-brow until it became two separate eyebrows, the four armed cyborg with the long two pronged beard dressed himself in his unwashed black suit and white, oil splattered lab coat.
The compound Toulon and his crew called their temporary home was abuzz with activity. Doctors on duty were dealing with the minor and major wounds that the engineers of The Cogs caused themselves dealing with dangerous machinery. Some even took the opportunity to use some of Toulon's prosthetic arms and legs.
As a doctor himself, Toulon felt at home with his medical staff, but, Andromeda and Khali, who he deemed his command staff, were a different matter. As a shipwright and navigator, respectively, the doctor with the shoulder length ebony hair felt awkward dispensing orders to mistresses of disciplines that were a mystery to him.
Though space was not at a premium in the Cog compound the two women had to share quarters. Toulon was given a space to sleep but had not used it. He simply fell asleep at whatever work bench he was working on at the time.
He knocked on their door and fidgeted. He would need their intimidating looks to help his negations with The Steel Talons for things to go well and their strength in case things went poorly.