#datapad (asks)

[noble-leader]

😱 + 😇

🔪 anon

😱: does your muse have any specific fears? where did those fears come from?

His worst fear is probably a court martial. But not for the reason you think. He fears a court martial because that means he’s failed those under his command. He doesn’t care about himself.

😇: What would your muse do if they became a god?

Carter.. at first he wouldn’t know what to do. But then two roads become clear. And.. I’ll ask you to pick one:

Benevolence or Vengeance?

[noble-leader]

Hello! I was wondering, do you have a link to rules? I’m restricted to mobile and can’t see any links. Also, would you be interested in a thread at some point? I have a whole bunch of muses, but my two most active are over at cosmic-gemstone and n0v4-z3r0, both of whom are fandomless sci fi OCs, but are open to multiple fandoms. Thanks for your time!

// I do not have rules! I’m pretty chill honestly. And sure! Pleasure to meet you by the way.

[noble-leader]

🗝️

-🔪 anon

“Not sure how long she’s gonna stay together. Skies are jammed up anyway. Gotta get you off her, Lieutenant.”

His eyes burned, everything had a tinge of red to it. His lungs felt like they could barely expand to breathe.

“Sir, you-“

The ever-stoic Noble Six started to protest, and she sounded worried. It wasn’t obvious, but the slightly twist of the word was all he needed to hear to know it. He’d gotten rather good at reading her over the past few weeks.

“Don’t wanna hear it. Get the Package to the Autumn.”

“Done.”

Carter couldn’t help but smirk.

If only it were that easy.

“Not yet. it’s not.”

Then he turned in the seat, looking back over his shoulder at the two Spartans.

His Spartans.

His team.

It was his job to protect them. But he wasn’t positive he could anymore.

Something cracked in his chest. Something metaphorical.

“Emile, go with her. It’s a ground game now.”

Emile turned from where he was watching their six, tossing his grenade launcher aside and thumping his chest.

“It’s been an honor, sir.”

I’m sorry Thom..

“Likewise….”

Carter turned back forwards, a grim determination settling in his chest.

“…I’ll do what I can to draw their fire.”

A clank of metal signaled Six moving towards the Blood Tray. Carter wasn’t sure what possessed his next action.

“Six..”

A shifting of plates let him know she had stopped. He didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to see his face.

“That A.I. chose you… she made the right choice.”

Goodbye, Spartans.

[noble-leader]

Sure is quiet today on base. Really quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Say, anyone seen Emile lately?

Carter blinked at his datapad.

And then he pinched the bridge of his before sighing.

“Why did you have to say-“

The PA crackled.

“Sierra-259 to the brig.”

“-damn it.”

[noble-leader]

Ive been honestly kinda scared to ask to roleplay but its nearly impossible to find Carter rpers...I really only use discord as Ive never actually used tumblr for roleplay which is a main reason Ive been so terrified to ask 🥲 Any reason for me to be nervous?

// Absolutely not! I admit I get bursts of motivation, but I really enjoy rping! I also RP on Discord!

[noble-leader]

You know, they all died because of you, right? All of NOBLE is gone because you couldn't save them. You weren't fast enough.

You failed them.

And now they're gone.

Forever.

They’re right, 259. They’re all dead because of you.

Carter’s eyes snapped open as he sat up, chest heaving, desperate to claim enough oxygen but never seeming to have enough.

“Shut up!”

“Not here, 259. This place is mine.”

What?

Carter blinked harshly, eyes darting around his dark quarters— where?

There!

In the corner, front right compared to his current position. Half-shrouded in shadow.

Impossible.

The form stepped out of the shadows in a rather dramatic fashion, it only needed two steps.

It being his armor.

“We have a designation, 259.”

Carter was on his feet— wait, what?

“I’m not you.”

Sure, he’d been scared before. When he was younger, at Camp Currahe. Even more recently, on Reach. But he’d always been able to tamp it down. This? What he was feeling? It wasn’t fear.

It was terror.

A mixture of terror and rage boiled in his chest, neither feeling outright incapacitated him but both certainly had him feeling queasy. This was a scene straight out of his nightmares.

“I’m in your head, Spartan. Metaphysics was never our strong suit, but even you know we’re one in the same.”

“No.”

259— his armor looked ever so slightly down at him.

This seemed like a spot where a crossing of arms would be appropriate but it just didn’t. It was wrong. It didn’t follow mannerisms that 25—that Carter knew he had. It wasn’t human.

“Who do you think you owe your life to, Spartan?”

Faster than Carter could react, it’s gauntlet shot out directly towards his face and—

“Contact front!”

His quarters were gone, now he was standing in the middle of a battlefield. Still in his civvies, civvies being a relative term for boots, pants and a thin shirt.

Two long stretches of buildings on either side of a long plain of destruction, comparative to the No Man’s Land of the 20th century’s Great War between two trenches, above him hovered the domineering shape of a CCS-class battlecruiser.

Fumirole.

A trio of plasma bolts zipped past him, and on pure instinct 2—Carter sidestepped and dove for a nearby DMR resting in the mud, performing a combat roll as he grabbed it and ignoring the feel of mud coating his body when he shouldered the rifle.

259 blinked, and suddenly he was in his armor, finger hammering trigger and sending Elites sprawling to the dirt. Then his COM sputtered to life, and Carter found himself speaking.

“293, stand down!”

No. Nono. Nonono not again pleasenonotagainplease.

“I’m not so sure that’s an option anymore, Commander.”

Please not again, I don’t want to- please no.

259 sidestepped to the left, twirling on his heel and performing a full 360 rotation before shouldering his DMR and pulling the trigger and watching an Elite collapse in a hail of blood as globs of plasma tore through where he’d originally been standing. Carter on the hand, focused on his radio.

“Thom, fall back! We can find another way!”

“You know damn well this is our one shot, Boss! I ain’t about to let Kat get barbecued for nothin’!”

NO!

Carter glanced up at the silently hovering CCS-class that was the main objective of Operation: ROSEBUD. Sanctity of Purification, it was called. And then 258 ducked as a splash of plasma smattered across his shield and alarms blared in his ears.

“Commander, I have Two. Me and Four are assisting a medical team getting her back to the firebase. Over.”

Not a second later, Thom came back on his private line with Carter.

“You heard Jorge, Boss!”

I can’t take this again..

Carter, for one of the first times in his life, was at a lose for what do. He’d lost soldiers before. This.. this.. why was this different?

“Thom-“

“Goddamnit Carter! Go, now!”

The next thing he remembered was darkness. Not the darkness of unconsciousness.. at least, not yet. But the darkness of every possible visible line being obstructed by dust, dirt and debris. Force the likes of which he’d never felt before washed over him, he didn’t know which way was up, alarms were blaring in his ears—shields, inactive.

Pain blossomed in his everywhere, his skin was on fire, yet he was freezing at the same time—temperature regulation, offline.

His back slammed into what felt like concrete and he heard something break as even more pain blossomed in his back.

Something was coming towards him in the dusty haze; He couldn’t make out what it was at first, assuming it was just a piece of concrete. Then it landed next to him.

It was a helmet, the visor cracked and covered in flash-boiled blood that hadn’t quite evaporated, instead charred itself black.

Then all memory vanished. The next thing he remembered was waking up aboard the Aegis Fate.

Not this time.

This time, the black faded earlier.

What he returned to was the dust fading, complete silence roaring in his ear. He was stood atop a hill of Covenant bodies, some missing limbs, others looked like they’d literally had their skulls caved in, others still—and these were the minority—had bullet wounds.

His gauntlets and vambraces.. he couldn’t even see the blue.. all he saw was purple.. green.. even red.

Nothing but blood.

259 flexed his fingers— Carter couldn’t breathe, and he felt his legs give out, sending him tumbling down the pile of corpses. He was disoriented when he reached the bottom and landed on his knees, staring down at his gauntlets.

Now all the blood was red.

Carter blinked, and suddenly he was staring at clean hands, and steel deck plating. His head snapped up to meet his own visor, eyes narrow.

“I am the reason we aren’t dead because of your weakness.”

Carter felt the rage that had been roiling in his chest boil over, and before he knew what was happening—

“You’re a machine, 259. Accept it.”

Carter launched himself at 259, colliding with the suit of armor with the force of a speeding train, tackling it to the floor with a clank of steel. His fists slammed into the impassive golden visor over and over, and he didn’t feel a thing.

“I am human! I. Am. Human!”

The visor was cracking.

“I’m not a machine!”

Crack. Crack. Crack. Smash.

Fiery red hair and eyes of sapphire, covered in blood.

“Yes, 259. You are.”

…

…

Carter’s eyes snapped open.

[noble-leader]

What made you decide to write this muse? / Tag someone you love/look up to! / What’s your sweetest RP experience so far?

// 1: Because of the lack of much about him! I had lots of headcanons and he seemed very intriguing.

2: @wcrspite bish

3: The Cartemis Cuddles

[noble-leader]

You might as well get adoption papers since you seem to adopt every Marine you see.

I have no idea what you’re talking about.

*closes tab on datapad*