(apparently I'm on the ship so please just bare with me here)
Sam listened to the banter of the group. He laughed at some of the things and stood up to go to the armory. He liked to know what they would be using.
Upon entering the armory, he saw Null in there. Paying him no heed, he went over to the weapons locker which was already open, and gazed at the selection.
"Hmmm, nice choices, eh?" Sam asked Null. Sam grabbed his personal rifle off the rack.
"With this puppy I could hit a Plague soldier in the center of his head from five- no, six hundred yards. I know, because I did back on Zar-" Sam cut himself off there. No point in talking about the past.
"Well, anyways, I count my bullets, so don't get any funny ideas about my little baby here." Sam said.
Ares interjected, " Sir, I hope you know that your rifle isn't actually your-"
"Yes, Ares, I know, It's a type of human personification, I'm really attached to it, it's like how you call my Helmet home when really your home is the hou-" Sam cut himself off again. He stepped out of the armory to sit back down at his seat.
Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.
Last edited by Jedi_Man; 10-30-2009 at 12:05 PM.