#b3l2

[napsoldier]

im not logged into six [b3l2] but uhh gimmie that good (shelter) meme

nonverbal starters

   The abrupt rustling leaves and the glint of purple flying towards his feet are the only warnings he has, mind failing to comprehend what he’s looking at but his body on autopilot as he retreats. There’s no single word in mind when he tries to sprint away but there is a something inside that feels almost like an internal scream. ‘ DANGER, ’ it cries, ‘ AWAY, ‘ it demands, but not in words! Oh no! In pure idea, instinct, and nothing less. 

 The few footsteps he manages to take back are all he can do to obey it before he’s whisked off his feet by a force that could shatter bones and rend flesh in an instant. 

   It’s not the blast. 

   Something grasps him by his shoulders, pulling him away with such strength he feels his boots lose touch with the ground and his hands scrabble for purchase in a hapless flail as control is stolen away. The world becomes a flurry of earthy greens, blue lights, and metallic grays until his vision is entirely obscured. His head thunks against something solid and in seconds it all comes to a stop. Right before the plasma grenade goes off, shaking the ground and shattering everything near it in a deafening explosion where he used to be. His proximity to the sound is less than pleasant but it manages to shake him out of the stupor the ODST found himself in. The force of it never managed to touch him.

   Eyes wide, lips mouthing in a silent ‘ what the-? ’, Rookie wriggles slightly in someone’s hold. He needs his gun, they’re under attack! Did he lose it in... ‘ Transport? ’

   He can’t look up or around yet- his visor’s being pressed down into something. Someone’s holding him- hell, someone straight up plucked him out of death’s grasp and he’s not in hundreds of little tiny pieces- and there’s only one person it could’ve possibly been. 

   “ Six! “ He breathes, voice little more than a whisper as shouts from the other marines finally reach his ears. Bullet spray fills the air and for the little time they have, Rookie buries his face deeper into her armor. Trusting, grateful, relieved, and more than a bit shaken. “ Thank you. Thank you. “ 

[imperxtor]

@b3l2 liked for a starter

MARCH 12th, 2556

Nearly 4 years.

It’d been nearly 4 years since the end of the war, and finally he had decided that maybe it was worth a shot. A letter had come in, marked with several stamps of being sent this way and that, nearly across UEG-controlled space and back until it had reached him. It was unmarked, simply the emblem of the Spartan Branch, signed with a little drawing of an arrow. He’d heard tell of the Alpha-class III before. He’d tucked it into his thigh pack for a while, and so while it was now crumpled and creased, that he’d kept it said quite a bit.

He hadn’t had near as much trouble as he’d thought he might; considering that the UNSC wasn’t actively at war, he was able to cash in on what amounted to personal days saved up from over 2 decades of duty, charter a Prowler on a favor, and jet off for the massive supercarrier.

On his way to catch one SPARTAN-III, then, he was more than surprised to see another.

[napsoldier]

@b3l2 gets an extremely late starter!

   High pitched whines like missile drops fill the air, crackling, sizzling pops chase thunderous booms across the night sky. Embers and sparkling lights dance and arc again and again, bursting like crushed fruit beneath a swinging hammer. Blues and orange hues of fire, green blobs of plasma rounds, pinks from Needler Blamite, and the yellow of Sangheili eyes in the dark.

   Screams pierce the air with every explosion. Rookie pins the small heap of pillows to his ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise. 

   Doesn’t work a damn bit. Hearing every whistle and pop as though it were right outside his window, the New Years festivities fails to bring any sort of cheer to the ODST. There wasn’t any escape from it here, the base is simply too close to a city park and there’s nowhere to take leave to. It was baffling really- nothing was more widely celebrated across all the Colony Worlds than Earth’s completed rotation around the sun. There was nothing significant about it in celestial terms. While it was indeed the cradle of humanity... Well, why didn’t everyone celebrate the rotation of Mars too? 

   Though... That’s not to say the importance of Earth having made it another year was lost on him.   

   Knuckles rap against the door and Rookie is startled from his thoughts, lifting his head and displacing the pillows. Had he been expecting company? 

   Rising from the bunk, he’s quick to make his way over to the door clad in the usual black ODS-Tee and dark cargo pants rather than standard issue armor. His rotation wasn’t up for a while, couldn’t be that. Was there that subtle sense that something was wrong? Yes. Yes there was.   

[napsoldier]

from b3l2 c: | she narrows her eyes slightly, watches him, waits. it's something she has seen others do and has grown curious. it is taking /ages/ for the opportunity to show itself. finally. when his arms raise as he stretches she is reaching out and dancing fingers over his ribcage.

Touch my muse. Be descriptive or simple, tender or violent, fond or hateful - anything goes.

   For once he is unknowing of the predator watching him, oblivious to the dangers that shadow every movement. Hands coated with dirt dip in and out of new soil, removed to the sound of shaking leaves as the ODST carefully transplants greenery like organs. What were once nothing more than weak sprouts became healthy and flourishing examples of gardening, moved from old, cheap pots clearly too small to hold anything sizable, into lovingly decorated ceramic with much more room for new roots to grow. It’s intensive business but he loves it all the same, therapeutic and relaxing in the encouragement of life. By the end of it all Rookie has forgotten he’s not actually alone, even when he takes a breather. His hands are crudely cleaned with a small rag until he can get to the sink, the excess dirt shuffled back into a bag for later projects. At last, it’s all done! The plants look happier already!

   His arms raise and his spine curves back in a most languid stretch- only for him to jerk suddenly when struck by one smooth criminal. An ungainly snort of laughter at Six’s touch takes his balance and he very nearly topples onto a Devil’s Ivy (harmless, but he would’ve destroyed it under his weight).

   “ Six! “ He yelps, trying to turn to get a look at her with betrayal and amusement written all over his face. Oddly enough, Rookie doesn’t remember ever being ticklish. Seems like things have changed... Or has he been touched enough to ever find out? “ I thought you loved me! “  

[ycvng-gcns]

from six to carter | “Don’t weep for me.”

“I would not weep for anyone unless they have died, and unless I was particularly close to them.”

Though Carter’s expression was grim, grim, and his eyes were pools of sadness. His shoulders were set and his spine was straight; his mouth was a firm line. He did not cry for Six, no. But he felt... sad... for her. If that was the way he could explain it. He was not really sure himself.

“But I do grieve for you, Six. I see the good in you, and I see what kind of person you could really be, if you let yourself.”

[supermecalca-blog]

[[ it means you're a nerd ]]

[ and this is the first ]