(no subject)
Swenson always dreamed of being a soldier one day. It'd been a pipe dream for so long that he'd forgotten the uglier, grittier details of what military life would be. An an engineer, he wasn't sure if he'd ever even see combat. Yeah, well. Tell that to the grenade that had found itself in his tent during a raid on their camp. His left arm had taken the brunt of the damage, and there had been no choice but to amputate it. His leg had been salvaged, but it had taken intense physical therapy to even get him walking again.
Prosthetic limbs were nothing like the real thing, and the military had offered to compensate him by sending him a robotic aid. With nothing to lose, Ethan had agreed.
The thing they'd sent him... was a hunk of scrap. Still, after his initial temper flare had died out, the former soldier's curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he'd begun tinkering with the machine as best he could with one arm. He'd have killed for another, usable limb, but he was working the best he could. The face wasn't great. He'd slapped a circuit board with LED lights on it and had claimed it was good enough. Some of the artificial 'skin' was torn in places, revealing the metal workings and circuitry underneath.
Sitting back on his heels with a wince and immediately shifting his weight so it was more on his right leg than his left, Ethan looked over his work with a critical eye. This was as good as it was going to get. His leg was throbbing, as was his arm. Though he knew the arm was gone for good, it still ached at times. Phantom limb, they called it. Bullshit, is what he called it.
His right arm extended, seeking to activate the robot. "Come on, you hunk of junk." It was a mutter. "Let's see what you can do."
Prosthetic limbs were nothing like the real thing, and the military had offered to compensate him by sending him a robotic aid. With nothing to lose, Ethan had agreed.
The thing they'd sent him... was a hunk of scrap. Still, after his initial temper flare had died out, the former soldier's curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he'd begun tinkering with the machine as best he could with one arm. He'd have killed for another, usable limb, but he was working the best he could. The face wasn't great. He'd slapped a circuit board with LED lights on it and had claimed it was good enough. Some of the artificial 'skin' was torn in places, revealing the metal workings and circuitry underneath.
Sitting back on his heels with a wince and immediately shifting his weight so it was more on his right leg than his left, Ethan looked over his work with a critical eye. This was as good as it was going to get. His leg was throbbing, as was his arm. Though he knew the arm was gone for good, it still ached at times. Phantom limb, they called it. Bullshit, is what he called it.
His right arm extended, seeking to activate the robot. "Come on, you hunk of junk." It was a mutter. "Let's see what you can do."