<strong>PFC Nortan 'Gizmo' Law</strong><br/><br/>As soon as Rome appeared from out of nowhere, Gizmo almost froze to a block of ice. So concentrated he was to keep his profile a little low with the nerves that he almost barely did not notice him just a few feet away. He was just about to speak to Senjo again, something light and conversational, but with the big man suddenly making his entrance made him close his mouth. He only smiled awkwardly at him after his comments and seemingly lewd offer to Senjo, trying his best to call in the 'joke'.<br/><br/>In truth, he found it discomforting. The mere suggestion of it in such a public place was embarrassing and flushing in the face was always close to bare. He even thought that he might have been dead serious about it and taken the synthetic there and then. Roman Beneke was one to always make those kind of jokes, and some of them may not even be anywhere close to joke in a matter of speaking. Sometimes he seemed serious, which petrified Giz to the core, not because of his size and demeanor, but because of his past histories. He knew about the big man's records. Read through his files several times and shivered while trying to imagine the things he did and the things he was capable of doing. A dangerous man, Giz thought, one he really did not want to piss off, more than even the LT.<br/><br/>After grabbing whatever chow he knew he could finish real quick, he plopped himself down and was not very surprised to see Senjo and Rome sit nearby. Having the synthetic next to him was a lot more of a comfort than sitting next to Rome so he was glad that he sat at the corner of the mess table. Immediately after he settled himself in, he found that he had leaned forward a little too far on his seat, his dogtags jingling out from under his loose tank. He specifically customized it with a longer chain, as on the shiny metal necklace that was fastened around his neck was another accessory that he normally did not speak of. The weird looking pendant was three inches long, an inch wide, shaped in a Y with the hands curved into something like a crab claw. Light, sleek and shiny, the head was barbed with dulled down hooks and the tail simply a thin rod. It clinked against the metal table, which prompted him to immediately seize it and tuck it back under his tank. The other squad members had asked what it was, and he simply said that it was a momento from a previous mission, something to remember things by, something very important to him. He had never told them about what exactly it was and how he got it, having gotten permission from high places to keep it with him. No one had been curious enough to probe further.... Sooner or later, he would have to tell someone.... but he was not sure if he was ready for that yet.... Not until he thought about it a bit more....<br/><br/>He really hoped that Senjo wouldn't ask, having acted as fast as he could. The last thing he needed was her analyzing the metal of his momento as unknown....<br/><br/>He wolfed down his food. The memories were not helping him in staying calm. The dreams he had did not seem to have stopped and he felt like he may need to talk about it to someone soon, orders not to or no. Ever since that operation, he had always been having them, replaying in his sleep over and over. PWS, maybe. Post War Stress was a very common case among many army vets since the dawn of humanity, but those take some time to manifest. All he did was live through a single incident that changed his life in the Corps, and he already felt like he could just break down and cry like a baby. Maybe he was just being a wuss again. Maybe he was really damn lucky. That frustrating and agonizing question still remained unanswered, even after one whole year in a different outfit.<br/><br/><em>Damn..... Why am I still alive?</em><br/><br/>Then he heard the Sarge call him out, snapping back to reality from his quiet already almost finished meal. He nodded at the CO, "Alrightie, sir."<br/><br/>No time to think. Not right now. He'll have to do it while he worked on the APC.