Tyson Gandy, "Dandy"'s page

Gandy - Dandy, he reminds himself now that he's in the cockpit - grimaces.

"If this thing is some Seracorp experiment there's going to be more to it than meets the eye. They're probably sending us newbies as the recon crew so when we die a less expendable team can come in."

"I'd say it's been nice knowing you all but..."

Quick retcon: Looks like GM already had plans for Seraphim Corporation, LLC that are...wildly different from my backstory, so I'm changing the name of my sponsor to Morningstar Corporation*.

*A wholly owned subsidiary of Seraphim Corporation, LLC.

Tyson casually climbs into his suit, and it's only after the suit closes and hides him from view that he allows his nervousness to peek through.

I've never driven one of these damn things, why did they pick ME of all people to be their representative? Whose stupid f!$&ing idea was it to make a fashion mech in the first place? This aesthetically overwrought piece of junk is going to get me killed. And worse, prove that cold b!+#$ with the bee-bot right.

At that thought, he stiffens his spine and clamps down on his emotions.

That's right, that's what we're fighting for: to prover her wrong. Prove them ALL wrong.

"Ugh. Put me down for 'not the dump', thank you. I'm pretty sure Seracorp would actually kill me if the first thing I did was send their new designer Suit wading through literal garbage."

"Mannequin is set up as a "spotter". Seracorp wants it in the field, but doesn't want anything to scratch the paintjob. I'll be on-site but you can think of me as closer to mission control and overwatch than an active combatant. Guess that means I'm with...you." he finishes, looking to Eleanor.

"Interesting insight Mr.Gandy, I will make a note to study your performance during the mission to analyze the validity of your claim."

Tyson rolls his eyes.

"How about you focus on your own performance, and try not to get yourself killed?"

"I'm the most valuable commodity on the market, sweetheart. You think just anyone can pull off this ensemble? That's what they pay me for."

"And, no offense, but I don't think you're gonna last long in this line of work without making connections. If you know the right people you can buy fancy new targeting systems, better boosters, and everything you need to make hunting the big ol' critters easier, but nothing in the world can buy you a winning personality. And I do mean winning, this is the opportunity of several lifetimes for me."

He gives her a grin which could be generously construed as "catty".

Tyson winks and shoots some finger guns as he enters the registration office. Somehow his fans always figure out where he's going to be. Both flattering...and annoying.

He drops the happy-go-lucky facade as he reaches the privacy of the admin building. Not like anybody here would appreciate it anyway. It was harder to put on the act these days in any case. Something about being press-ganged into fighting life and death battles to shill products had ruined his mood.

At the counter, he makes a faint attempt at pleasantries, but is mostly ignored by the guild receptionist. He rolls his eyes and hands over the paperwork.