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2/13/2016 1:13:10 AM
1
Ginger peaks out of the cockpit, not recognizing the man who scavenged the wreckage. With two rapid punches, he shatters the thick glass windows, and crawls out of the cockpit. He appears unarmed, but looks can often be deceiving. Blue static crawled across the ceramic plates of his armor, as his shields attempted to recharge to no avail.
English
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[b]The man noticed, but kept to himself, not trying to start a fight He pulls out a small grenade, pocketing it[/b] [i]"Not the normal man, I assume?"[/i]
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"I'm many things, but I'm hardly a normal man." Ginger grunts as the muscles stitch themselves together, and the skin regrows over the wound.
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[b]The man looks over, and chuckles, going back to picking over the remains of the ship[/b] [i]"Yeah, can already tell"[/i]
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Ginger recalibrates a tac-pad on his left wrist, likely checking the status of his armor. He then extends his right arm out, a blue halo forming around his closed fist, and suddenly, a shotgun forms in his hand. The beast is thick, grey, and blocky, almost as if it was built for him specifically instead of a human, and the nozzle spreads outwards like a dish. The gravity shotgun had long been a staple of Ginger's Arsenal, but it had been many years since he had required it's services. "Alright, well I'm off. Help yourself to anything on that ship."
