Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-30655593-20180813014135/@comment-30014014-20180816175543

The rumbling sound of a car vacating the place echoes far from the town, bound to return should its user see fit. Carlos stood before an amalgamate of polished but discorded metal pieces, most of it painted in ivory. Those pieces all garner heavy components and plates, often carrying more aesthetic craft lingering in washed extremities.

Others, more comfortable in the gray area, feature pistols and rivets. Miniature pipes and hydraulics, all way too small for a vehicle. Oddly enough, like the ivory plates, they shine a light green auroma, looking to indicate their powered state despite being for the most part, shambled in pieces.

Carlos dives his hand in a heavy case, pulling out what looks to be an assault rifle. A scar, to be precise. It shine in a gilded manner, his movement prompting the inert pieces to breath life. Like a sapent set of part, they collide on the man in his seamless gestures, from boot to head.

Only now would one realize that those pieces were to be assembled into armor. Something close to an exosuit. Every inch of Carlos' body is interlapped in this assembly of metal and circuit. Light and power.

His head is adorned with a metallic cap reminiscent of an officer's, powered with the faithful green light work the rest of his armor offers to the sight.

He slide the Scar to his back, the shiny weapon clapsing against his cold exterior. A pistol can be seen cuddling his left reinforced leg, no doubt another weapon.

"Well then..." he speaks, his voice filtered and robotized through what sounds like an external communicator, eyelids in greenery "...another run into the unknown. SO be it".