<strong>PFC Nortan 'Gizmo' Law</strong><br/><br/>Being paranoid had its advantages. Gizmo paid extra attention to his surroundings, constantly looking about to scan the horizon, keeping his eyes peeled and his ears open as much as he could for anything out of the ordinary. The wind, rain and general terrain was making it difficult for him to cover each opening effectively. Each tributary, each gaping crevice, each less than delicate trench of dirt and stone looked as if buzzing with activity from tiny invisible life forms, calling out mockingly to him, flashing him winks and maniacally laughing after whipping back into cover. Wild geese the whole lot of them. Sediment, loose pebbles, condensation, steam, the whistling of the wind. He would have to throw all of these out to humanly notice even the slightest of change. He was also only dry a few seconds ago. Now he was soaking wet. If he had known about today's forecast, he could have put on his raincoat.<br/><br/>He looked over at Senjo as she approached and did not bother to waste his breath over the howlings of the wind, giving her a more universal signal of understanding in the form of a visible nod and a light pat on her shoulder. It was his response to the incident in the mess deck, along with a general sense of camaraderie. He wanted to tell her verbally that he was okay, having noticed that she had been watching him then, but the words would have to come later once they were out of the woods and in a relatively safe status. He immediately took position towards the left, completing the formation with standard military decorum. If the situation had not been so uncertain, he would have offered to help Senjo carry her load, even though he knew that it would be exceptionally difficult lugging such equipment around with his physique.<br/><br/>As he followed Reaper, he visibly noticed the surroundings become more clear as soon as they were well within the area of raised elevation. No more wind to buffet over his face. The conditions had just improved only slightly, still having to squint through the rain that pattered all over his armored body-<br/><br/><em>-There was a difference between barren world rain and tropical rain. The precipitation had clear distinctions. Although the jungle had trees and vegetation to act as shelter from the elements, the volume of water was far more than that of any storm. When it rains in the jungle, do not expect the ground to be very solid after the first 5 minutes, and not be very stable after 10. Keeping dry is nigh impossible, as the mud can do what the assaulting rainwater could not. Rivers and waterfalls could do what lightning strikes could not. Many a good marine has had their moments with flashfloods more than they do with any enemy when on duty on a jungle planet, and many more had died needlessly for it.<br/><br/>"Well, this sucks..."<br/>"Shut your gob, you funking wanker, and keep walking!"<br/>"No disrespect, sir, but walk where? We're fucking swamped in a mud bath!"<br/>"Suck it up! Both of you! Stick to the tree roots. Make sure you keep that equipment off the ground."<br/>A splash of something falling from behind the line, "Oh.... Too late, Captain...."<br/>"For God's sakes, Gizmo!"<br/>"Sorry!"<br/>"Watch your footing, lads,-"</em><br/><br/>"-cause you never know when the next step will be your last." Gizmo whispered to himself, steadily keeping his feet firmly clamped onto the rocky ground. Lessons learnt to keep his centre of gravity in check, he had gone over his clumsy streak long ago. He used to trip over even the slightest of tree trunks and sometimes on his own shoelaces, ridiculed again for quite a while and reprimanded by many an officer. He made it a mission to keep his balance nowadays, taking advantage of his small size and relatively lean body shape, training his body enough to fit proper marine standards. Kept up well with good footing in this outfit, and gladly enough, no accidents that showed his previous weakness, only imagining what nightmares the Sarge and the LT could conjure if he tripped over now. Gingerly, he stepped over a blunt looking rock outcropping without even giving it much of a thought, keeping his shotgun raised and ready, his mouth shut to keep the resonant ambiance undisturbed in his ear. A lot of the rocks were weathered beaten by wind and rain, blasted for quite a while before their arrival, so much of it was smoothed down and hardened. It made it a little easier if it were not for the random obstruction to a brisk straight walk down their path.<br/><br/>Within a sweep towards his left and to his right, his peripherals caught sight of Reaper's back nearby and a passing thought flashed through his mind. He did not know the man very well, except for the fact that he shoots his guns extremely well, and every attempt so far to socialize usually ends with a deathly stare into his soul. It was easy to tell how he came to be known by that nickname. He had seen what he could do and the things he did had a different disposition to that of the LT and Rome. The man was deathly calm, even when dispatching an enemy, as he was now, leading his group in the front like a wolf in disguise. Giz cant say he liked him, that unnerving sense of silence and fear that was so different to the other squadmembers. Nonetheless, his guts overrode his thoughts and he trusted Reaper all the same, as he does all the rest for the same reason they bonded as a team.<br/><br/>He kept thoughts about the mission details and tactics to himself. As a general rule, he tried his best not to sound like a smartass by voicing too much of his opinions, due to his rank, file and standing. If they needed him, they would just need to holler and he would be there if it was feasibly possible. All he needed to do right now was follow orders and not be a smartass. 'That way everything would go along just fine', quoting from a long lost face he once knew, 'Step out of line, and the whole system falls apart. We dont want that to happen, dont we?.