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@spartan-five-five-eight
Well....
Seems I had a brain fart and forgot to check Tumblr this past week or so... Do I owe anyone any replies??? If so, lemme know, and if you can't find 'em and/or the idea's gone stale, I'll draw'd you a purty picture as an apology!
I AM the sniper on the roof.
Send me ‡ for my character's reaction to yours climbing into bed with mine.
Five-Five-Eight was at an internal impasse. He remained quiet while he mulled things over, shifting slightly, his hands visibly tensing around the rifle he had been told to drop. The rifle was as much a part of him as the armor was, and stripping that away from him would turn the SPARTAN into a very dangerous beast indeed.
First things first. He had never heard of this Earth-GOV before. As far as he was concerned, she had no real authority over him because Earth-GOV didn’t exist, he was under the jurisdiction of the UNSC. But the II technically was not in his own dimension, his own version of humanity and it’s military branch. Technically….
Technically he was just a civilian. A well armed and armored civilian, but still a civilian at that. This happened to be the straw that broke the camel’s back as Five-Five-Eight slowly lowered the barrel of his weapon, slipping it to the ground and pushing it over to her, hands in the air. Here he was not a soldier, here he was weak, here he could do nothing about the supposed-agent pointing a weapon in his face. Behind the facade of his helmet, the SPARTAN’s teeth were gritted together as he surrendered himself to Ellie.
"That’s better, thank you," She lowered her weapon as soon as the rifle was slid over to her. She downloaded both weapons to her RIG for safe keeping, now very untrustworthy of this man. Guess she’d be following him to Isaac’s after all. "That crowd is just upset over Danik’s death. It was months ago but there’s nothing they can do about it. I watched him die, he isn’t coming back. If they do get violent there will be riot police ready and waiting…"
Ellie gestured for him to stand up. “Get up. I’ll take you to Isaac’s… If you try anything funny along the way, or if you touch a single hair on his head, you’re dead. Understood?” The Brit threatened, beginning to lead the way. “I don’t trust you… Not after what you just pulled.”
Five-Five-Eight grunted his consent as they walked, keeping a very wary eye on the group of cultists as they passed. A few seemed like they were egging him on, but he could do nothing about it, given the current circumstance. His hands curled into fists as they walked. Not only had his weapon been taken from him, something that had genuinely rubbed him the wrong way, but now he had practically made an enemy out of Clarke’s girlfriend. And if he was as unstable as she made him sound, the SPARTAN did not want to do anything that might send Isaac into a frenzy.
"The IV’s would be laughing their asses off right about now." He muttered to himself as the shouts and criest of the cultists began to grow faint, several civilians on the street pausing to gawk up at the armored…. man? Robot?
Ellie chose to ignore his muttering as they walked. She’d give him back his rifle when she was sure he wasn’t going to randomly pull it out in the middle of public. But until then she’d keep it on her and away from him. She turned a corner and headed west, it would only take a few minutes to get to Isaac’s apartment. But each minute felt like an eternity walking with this guy. The stares they were getting made shivers run down her spine.
"Can you at least take the helmet off so you don’t scare the shit out of the citizens?" She asked.
Ellie's ears would catch a hiss of suit-seals as his helmet came off, though it didn't do much to change the stares they were getting. His expression was hard, eyes forward, jaw set, almost as if he were a POW, showing no sign of weakness or even a crack in his fortitude as they walked.
Soldiers were intimidating, with their imposing RIG helmets and all of that armor, but they were average-sized humans. This was a SPARTAN II, easily 7' tall with a muscular, yet lithe build. He towered over every other human present, and it probably didn't help much that in his half-ton of armor, his boots thunked loudly with every step he took.
"Considering you’re talking to an Agent with EarthGOV I suggest you drop the weapon, sir. Unless you want to be arrested for disturbing the peace.” She gestured that she wasn’t gonna let up until he did as she told him to. “The Unitologists have freedom of speech just like any other religion. This isn’t your jurisdiction, sir, it’s mine. Any stranger with a weapon out in the open will be considered an enemy to them and they’ll attack. Put the fucking rifle away or you really will have to use it.” Her voice was low and full of authority. He didn’t know that after Tau Volantis her job with the EDF was non-existent anymore. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him… probably. Ellie may not believe in their religion, and she may have been working towards stopping their blessed convergence, but that didn’t mean she didn’t respect their damn beliefs. The Unitologist bracelet around her wrist reflected the glow of her cutter.
She aimed it high, three glowing dots landing on his neck. Her finger hovered over the trigger. He didn’t know it, but these tools had been built for cutting through the densest of space rocks… His fancy suit would be like cutting through butter on a warm day for the beam of plasma energy.
Five-Five-Eight was at an internal impasse. He remained quiet while he mulled things over, shifting slightly, his hands visibly tensing around the rifle he had been told to drop. The rifle was as much a part of him as the armor was, and stripping that away from him would turn the SPARTAN into a very dangerous beast indeed.
First things first. He had never heard of this Earth-GOV before. As far as he was concerned, she had no real authority over him because Earth-GOV didn’t exist, he was under the jurisdiction of the UNSC. But the II technically was not in his own dimension, his own version of humanity and it’s military branch. Technically….
Technically he was just a civilian. A well armed and armored civilian, but still a civilian at that. This happened to be the straw that broke the camel’s back as Five-Five-Eight slowly lowered the barrel of his weapon, slipping it to the ground and pushing it over to her, hands in the air. Here he was not a soldier, here he was weak, here he could do nothing about the supposed-agent pointing a weapon in his face. Behind the facade of his helmet, the SPARTAN’s teeth were gritted together as he surrendered himself to Ellie.
"That’s better, thank you," She lowered her weapon as soon as the rifle was slid over to her. She downloaded both weapons to her RIG for safe keeping, now very untrustworthy of this man. Guess she’d be following him to Isaac’s after all. "That crowd is just upset over Danik’s death. It was months ago but there’s nothing they can do about it. I watched him die, he isn’t coming back. If they do get violent there will be riot police ready and waiting…"
Ellie gestured for him to stand up. “Get up. I’ll take you to Isaac’s… If you try anything funny along the way, or if you touch a single hair on his head, you’re dead. Understood?” The Brit threatened, beginning to lead the way. “I don’t trust you… Not after what you just pulled.”
Five-Five-Eight grunted his consent as they walked, keeping a very wary eye on the group of cultists as they passed. A few seemed like they were egging him on, but he could do nothing about it, given the current circumstance. His hands curled into fists as they walked. Not only had his weapon been taken from him, something that had genuinely rubbed him the wrong way, but now he had practically made an enemy out of Clarke's girlfriend. And if he was as unstable as she made him sound, the SPARTAN did not want to do anything that might send Isaac into a frenzy.
"The IV's would be laughing their asses off right about now." He muttered to himself as the shouts and criest of the cultists began to grow faint, several civilians on the street pausing to gawk up at the armored.... man? Robot?
At the sight of a weapon being drawn out of the corner of his eye, Five-Five-Eight snapped around. He was a blur of motion as he dropped to a knee, rifle snapping up to his shoulder and aimed at her center of mass. The only thing that kept him from pulling the trigger, which his training screamed at him to do, was the fact that she had been helpful and hadn’t shown any signs of hostility before-hand. Whatever that little gun, or tool, whatever it was, he figured it would take at least 3 or 4 shots to put a dent in his shielding.
"Drop the weapon." He said, no hostility in his voice. Simply a firm, commanding, warning tone. "Even out of my armor, you wouldn’t stand a chance, ma’am. In no way was I going to incite anything with those cultists. I simply drew my weapon so that if and when the first shots are fired, I would be prepared to protect you, and the rest of the civilians caught in the crossfire, as well as I possibly could. I say again. Drop. The. Weapon."
Now all that was left was for her to react to his movement, which had taken just longer than the time it took to blink, which put his head under the plasma cutter’s firing arc.
"Considering you’re talking to an Agent with EarthGOV I suggest you drop the weapon, sir. Unless you want to be arrested for disturbing the peace.” She gestured that she wasn’t gonna let up until he did as she told him to. “The Unitologists have freedom of speech just like any other religion. This isn’t your jurisdiction, sir, it’s mine. Any stranger with a weapon out in the open will be considered an enemy to them and they’ll attack. Put the fucking rifle away or you really will have to use it.” Her voice was low and full of authority. He didn’t know that after Tau Volantis her job with the EDF was non-existent anymore. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him… probably. Ellie may not believe in their religion, and she may have been working towards stopping their blessed convergence, but that didn’t mean she didn’t respect their damn beliefs. The Unitologist bracelet around her wrist reflected the glow of her cutter.
She aimed it high, three glowing dots landing on his neck. Her finger hovered over the trigger. He didn’t know it, but these tools had been built for cutting through the densest of space rocks… His fancy suit would be like cutting through butter on a warm day for the beam of plasma energy.
Five-Five-Eight was at an internal impasse. He remained quiet while he mulled things over, shifting slightly, his hands visibly tensing around the rifle he had been told to drop. The rifle was as much a part of him as the armor was, and stripping that away from him would turn the SPARTAN into a very dangerous beast indeed.
First things first. He had never heard of this Earth-GOV before. As far as he was concerned, she had no real authority over him because Earth-GOV didn't exist, he was under the jurisdiction of the UNSC. But the II technically was not in his own dimension, his own version of humanity and it's military branch. Technically....
Technically he was just a civilian. A well armed and armored civilian, but still a civilian at that. This happened to be the straw that broke the camel's back as Five-Five-Eight slowly lowered the barrel of his weapon, slipping it to the ground and pushing it over to her, hands in the air. Here he was not a soldier, here he was weak, here he could do nothing about the supposed-agent pointing a weapon in his face. Behind the facade of his helmet, the SPARTAN's teeth were gritted together as he surrendered himself to Ellie.
Ask my muse questions about their relationship with another character.
Five-Five-Eight nodded, his eyes locked on the crowd, jaw set as his features hardened, his eyes darting around as he analyzed the situation. He spotted several cover points, a few sniping positions, explosive gas pipes, and a whole lot of civilians that would die if...
At the sight of a weapon being drawn out of the corner of his eye, Five-Five-Eight snapped around. He was a blur of motion as he dropped to a knee, rifle snapping up to his shoulder and aimed at her center of mass. The only thing that kept him from pulling the trigger, which his training screamed at him to do, was the fact that she had been helpful and hadn't shown any signs of hostility before-hand. Whatever that little gun, or tool, whatever it was, he figured it would take at least 3 or 4 shots to put a dent in his shielding.
"Drop the weapon." He said, no hostility in his voice. Simply a firm, commanding, warning tone. "Even out of my armor, you wouldn't stand a chance, ma'am. In no way was I going to incite anything with those cultists. I simply drew my weapon so that if and when the first shots are fired, I would be prepared to protect you, and the rest of the civilians caught in the crossfire, as well as I possibly could. I say again. Drop. The. Weapon."
Now all that was left was for her to react to his movement, which had taken just longer than the time it took to blink, which put his head under the plasma cutter's firing arc.
Five-Five-Eight nodded slowly, looking down to the ground for a moment. “I suppose I can understand that. The only problem is that I’ve got a very short time to be here, I’m spending most of my Leave saying thanks to him, and I’d hate for all of this to have been a...
Five-Five-Eight nodded, his eyes locked on the crowd, jaw set as his features hardened, his eyes darting around as he analyzed the situation. He spotted several cover points, a few sniping positions, explosive gas pipes, and a whole lot of civilians that would die if a gunfight broke out. Without taking his eyes off of the Unitlogists, The II placed the helmet back on his head, sealing with a hiss, and pulling his Assault rifle off of his back and cradling it.
"Stay between me and the crowd, things are going to deteriorate quickly, and this is a dead-end alley. If anything breaks out, I need you to do exactly as I say, no questions asked. Do you understand me?" Said the armored man, not moving a muscle.
themetamk2:
spartan-five-five-eight reblogged your post:whats the thing?
I’m completely random and from nowhere. You can trust me with the thing.
"…..No."
"I promise you that I will take care of the thing and guard it’s secret as if it were my own." Gives a totally forced and unconvincing smile.
Send me "So..." to hear what my character would say to yours after casual sex.
Ellie shook his hand. “Call me Ellie. Ellie Langford…” Her two toned eyes were glued to his… well, where she assumed his eyes would be. “So… Isaac knows you from where, exactly?” She asked, still hesitant. Trust...
Five-Five-Eight nodded slowly, looking down to the ground for a moment. "I suppose I can understand that. The only problem is that I've got a very short time to be here, I'm spending most of my Leave saying thanks to him, and I'd hate for all of this to have been a waste."
The II looked back out to the street contemplating the expressions of the people outside, as well as the rising voices of these 'Unitlogists.' If some form of riot broke out, he'd need to deal with it, considering the amount of civvies that were around and the possible collateral damage.t
whats the thing?
"…..None of your business."
“That’s what.”
"What about mine?"
"….Nope."
I'm completely random and from nowhere. You can trust me with the thing.
=_____= Fuck getting married this is bullshit.
NO! CONNIE PLS!
YOU STAY OUTTA THIS BITCH TITS MCGEE
im guessing this is a bad time to go in for the rebound
I'm guessing this is also a bad time to randomly stroll by .-.
Ellie shook his hand. “Call me Ellie. Ellie Langford…” Her two toned eyes were glued to his… well, where she assumed his eyes would be. “So… Isaac knows you from where, exactly?” She asked, still hesitant. Trust was something she had...
The II nodded, "I've been trying to get a hold of him, but it's completely possible that he doesn't recognize my COM frequency. I was sending him messages from a ship's frequency, seeing as my armor only has a medium-range point-to-point COM set-up."
Five-Five-Eight looked back to her, concern hinting at his features. "Nightmares? I mean, those things were definitely something I had to bleach out of my mind, but he seemed pretty calm and held-together while within that hell-hole
If TV Channels were Your Family (x)
holy shit accurate
WHAT DID YOU DO WITH ALL THAT CLEVELAND SHOW I GAVE YOU?
oh History Channel
Behold. South Park changing the derogatory definition of ‘fag.’ Making it synonymous with moron, jackass and douchebag. Once the old homophobic preachers die out and a generations passes, we’ll be left with this lovely urban definition: “Fag, noun. Used to describe someone acting with poor, rude and unintelligent behaviour.”
South Park is perfect
ATTENTION EVERYONE
