Fisher twists his helmet off, sets it onto the table in the engineering armory, and pops his mask off, tossing it underhanded onto the internals table. He looks at his helmet critically, and blows on it, sending a few small metal shards flying off. "...I think I got the floor on my face."

With a loud clanking of armored hardsuit banging together, Cloud Nine unceremoniously wriggles free of her hardsuit and dumps it into the decontamination chamber, where it would be cleaned for the next operation. "Damn thing will need a new paint-job, I hear bullets don't come out easy." She grumbles, then unhooks her medical belt and drapes it over a rack, not bothering to empty it of spent medicine capsules and bandage wrappers, before tugging her gas-mask free and swallowing a great gulp of re-processed air.

Fisher mumbles in agreement as he slowly makes his way out of hsi hardsuit, occasionally grunting in annoyance. "Something's in this damn suit, I swear." Making his way out, he turns to look at the back of the suit. "Oh, wow."

Cloud leans out of her own staging point and peers over into the engineering 'armory'. "What's up?"

Fisher gapes as he looks at what's been lodged in his suit- "Wow, holy shit, there's been a piece of rebar stuck like a centimeter through the suit half of this whole time." He pulls out the piece of rebar with a bit of effort and tosses the hardsuit and his pack into the corner, going to show Cloud the offending piece of metal.

Cloud inspects the metal, furrowing her brow with a look of concern as she inspects it. "Lucky they aren't cheap with the suits, this thing could've really wrecked your spine and more if it got through... you alright, feeling any pain back there?"

Fisher shrugs. "I don't feel particularly impaled, no." He kicks off his magboots, albeit leaving them on, and walks a few steps towards his armory before tossing the magboots at it- one sticks to the table, the other just bounces off of the floor. He whistles innocently.
"Until the supervisor gets me on a stick for throwing my shit like that, at least."

Cloud snorts in amusement and strips off her gloves before sticking them in one of her jumpsuit pockets. "I won't snitch," she assures as she nonchalantly strolls towards the door. "Dunno about you, though, but I could go for a shower."

James, by now fully unsuited, puts a hand to his chin as to mull it over as he too starts heading to the door. Then, he grins mischieviously as he picks up pace slightly away from Marian, turning towards her briefly to deliver the line: "Yeah, me too. I'm assuming separately, of course."

Marian sharply arches an eyebrow and rolls her eyes before sticking out her tongue at James. "Oh, whatever. You know what I meant."

James grins again, before shrugging and sighing. "Yeah. A bit of relaxation would be appreciated after explosion festival 2558." He pauses in thought a bit. "At least there wasn't any freaky shit this mission, just all the bombs."

"Don't bloody remind me about that one genetics incident. 2557, got turned into a man and had to deal with a willy of my own. Never forget."

James snorts in sliiight amusement when she mentions "a willy of my own" and repeats "Never forget." in an only half serious voice. The two of them are about two thirds of the way to the showers at this point.

"And then you tossed him into space and we reported that he ran off. Good times."

"Good times, good times... I'm preeetty sure Jones got the message, though."

"Mmm. Well... I think that was only me, you, and some other shoot-goon, wasn't it?"