#charrzooka

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Sieran always had a lot of questions for the new recruit. Kyel was the first Charr that the Sylvari had gotten to know well, never ceasing to amaze with vivid descriptions of the Black Citadel, her life before the Priory, and her warband. The questions soon turned to Kyel’s seemingly endless arsenal of gadgets and weaponry; Sieran had seen engineers before, but not half of the weapons that Kyel carried around seemed familiar. On one particular night, as the pair stopped at the edge of Blazeridge steppes to venture through the brand the next morning, she had one question at the forefront of her mind.

“Kyel, why is your... er... rocket machine called a ‘Charrzooka’?” Sieran asked during her designated question time (An hour, thirty three minutes and seven seconds, a bitterly negotiated time) around the campfire that the two had set up. “No offense, but the name sounds terrible! How did you come up with that?”

Kyel laughed softly to herself before turning over to Sieran.

“Well, I originally wanted to call it the ‘Portable Rapid-Fire High-Velocity Rocket-Launcher’, or the PRHR.” She admitted sheepishly, shaking her head slightly. “But, uh...”

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“Kyel, that’s a terrible name!” Reeva laughed, ‘patting’ her best friend on the back. “It’s gotta be something catchy, something that sounds more... boom.”

Kyel grinded her teeth. Slowly.

“Stop. Hitting. Me.” She grunted out, trying to wave the other Charr away. “Making. Calibrations.”

“Oh, sorry bout that! Keep forgetting!” Reeva smirked, before moving away to play with some of the other mechanical parts strewn around the workshop. “...Seriously though, the PRHR? That’s a boring name!”

“Well, I like it. Have any better suggestions?”

Reeva stopped messing around with Kyel’s musket prototype parts, stroking her chin in exaggerated thought.

“Hm... the Large Loader? Nah, always hated those names. Rockets... launchers... oh, I’ve got it!”

Kyel stared back at Reeva dryly. Last time Reeva had suggested anything, it led to double patrol times for the warband.

“Oh? Have you now?” She slurred out, the snark effectively oozing out from the surprisingly clear voice. “Regale me of your insight, oh wise Reeva.”

Kyel figured that it couldn’t be worse than ‘Reeva the Cleeva’.

“It’ll be called... the Charrzooka!” Reeva announced triumphantly.

Kyel then decided that no, it could always be worse.

 “Okay, you are NOT calling it the Charrzooka. It’s MY invention, I get to call it what I want.” Kyel almost shouted, pulling the prototype away from Reeva while shaking her head. “Seriously, out of all the names you could have possibly come up with...”

“Hey, hey. It’s a good name!”

“’Good’ is subjective”

“...What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kyel slumped against her workbench, groaning into the collection of papers, metal scraps, closing her eyes. “Look, it’s not going to be the Charrzooka. Period.”

“What if I take over guard duty?”

“No.”

“Repair your gear?”

“No.”

“Sing the collection of Human romance and love songs that we found at the separatist camp?”

Kyel’s ears perked up at that. “Whoah whoah whoah, I thought you destroyed those.” Kyel stammered, staring back at Reeva.

“Er, yeah, that’s right. I destroyed them, hehe...” Reeva laughed nervously, staring down at her feet.

“...Sure you did. Just stop. Not going to happen.”

“Alright, tell you what. I eat twelve Dolyak steaks in an hour, and I get to name it the Charrzooka. If I don’t manage, then...”

“I get the next week off.”

“Deal.”

---

“...And that’s why I never bet with Reeva on anything related to food ever again.” Kyel finished off, leaning onto her back to stare at the sky.

Sieran raised an eyebrow.

“I thought this story was about the Charrzooka?”

“Same thing.”

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Whoooah what's with the messed up html.