Rikku was clanking along, trying to orient herself and unbuckle--unclasp--undo whatever she'd done. Her feet swang jerkily with every step, one arm sort of windmilling at the side. She couldn't really see around her well, what with the slatted visor and her short stature. The suit had been made for someone with probably a good two, maybe three inches on her--she kept having to go up on her tip-toes. However, if she'd had a mirror to look in and see her wooden-soldier-esque flailing, she would have agreed that she did, indeed, look possessed.
Rikku wasn't even aware that she'd nearly mowed someone over--she was fiddling with a catch on the left gauntlet, it was just so hard to see and there was absolutely no way for her to tell if she'd grabbed it with the metal fingers--it wasn't until they screamed that Rikku realized what was happening. She swung around haphazardly with all the grace of a wind-up doll, nearly tripping on her own two feet and a crevice between stones. She caught a glimpse of a guy with wild red hair grabbing for a giant sword. She shrieked and backed up, reaching for her own knives that she realized she couldn't get at. Dratted armor suit!
"Doon't--" she tried to say. Don't hurt me. Don't attack. Don't get in the way, maybe. Rikku wasn't sure, she never got to finish the thought; her armored feet got caught in another stone crevice in mid-back-pedal, and she went down with a clatter that must have sounded terrible on the outside and sounded like the most horrific thunder from the inside. Rikku winced and squirmed, unable to clap her hands to her ears. What a nightmare! Never, ever again! And it hurt. Rikku realized she was also going to be bruised all up and down her backside from that fall. She'd look beaten even if this guy didn't kill her. Which, at the moment, she wasn't too certain about.
"Hey, hey, don't hurt me," she said, waving frantically at him. "I'm not-- I'm just stuck," she tried to explain, starting to pull at the helmet. After struggling a bit, the metal head gave and popped off. Rikku let out a sigh of relief, happy to feel cooler air hit her skin; it was starting to get warm in that stupid suit. She struggled to sit up, not unlike a turtle upended onto its shell, and then peeked at him from over open neck hole--the rim of which was about even with the tip of her nose. "I can't get out," she admitted; even though he couldn't see the pout she'd forced her lips into, her tone made it plenty obvious.
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Rikku wasn't even aware that she'd nearly mowed someone over--she was fiddling with a catch on the left gauntlet, it was just so hard to see and there was absolutely no way for her to tell if she'd grabbed it with the metal fingers--it wasn't until they screamed that Rikku realized what was happening. She swung around haphazardly with all the grace of a wind-up doll, nearly tripping on her own two feet and a crevice between stones. She caught a glimpse of a guy with wild red hair grabbing for a giant sword. She shrieked and backed up, reaching for her own knives that she realized she couldn't get at. Dratted armor suit!
"Doon't--" she tried to say. Don't hurt me. Don't attack. Don't get in the way, maybe. Rikku wasn't sure, she never got to finish the thought; her armored feet got caught in another stone crevice in mid-back-pedal, and she went down with a clatter that must have sounded terrible on the outside and sounded like the most horrific thunder from the inside. Rikku winced and squirmed, unable to clap her hands to her ears. What a nightmare! Never, ever again! And it hurt. Rikku realized she was also going to be bruised all up and down her backside from that fall. She'd look beaten even if this guy didn't kill her. Which, at the moment, she wasn't too certain about.
"Hey, hey, don't hurt me," she said, waving frantically at him. "I'm not-- I'm just stuck," she tried to explain, starting to pull at the helmet. After struggling a bit, the metal head gave and popped off. Rikku let out a sigh of relief, happy to feel cooler air hit her skin; it was starting to get warm in that stupid suit. She struggled to sit up, not unlike a turtle upended onto its shell, and then peeked at him from over open neck hole--the rim of which was about even with the tip of her nose. "I can't get out," she admitted; even though he couldn't see the pout she'd forced her lips into, her tone made it plenty obvious.