#magellanicclouds

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

@magellanicclouds is an absolute gem! Starting off our spotlight series strong with a master of anatomy and one of the sweetest people I've had the luck to meet! You can find her here on tumblr as well as her ko-fi.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

I crave your brilliant writing, Stumpy. How about #14 for the Things You Said prompt, "...when I wasn't meant to hear." ' v '

Very much inspired by your art and writing! My brain fully derailed on the tone but I love the Gammas and I bet they will have issues adjusting to the SoF and letting their walls down while they lick their wounds. I did crack open D*vine Wind again and that was a mistake so apologies for the tone.

-

Being a Spartan, an alive one, meant having near perfect situational awareness. It was beaten into you at a young age. Like a lot of other things.

You and your siblings were the last of your unit. Your pack, your family after the one that borne you died in fire and plasma, were clinging to life by the skin of your teeth.

You looked out for each other. You learned from your elders. And you always knew where the exits were and who held the keys. You and your siblings watched the docs and nurses and orderlies. You watched your mom sleep heavily under the drugs keeping her from feeling the skull fracture. You watched the IIs with open curiosity - how could they be so similar and different from Blue Team. You all knew it was time, but seeing it in person was strange. They were rough around the edges, eerily similar to you and your siblings, not fully tempered like Blue Team. Not yet.

You heal fast. The doctors whisper. You try their synthesized smoothers, under observation, and feel the world slip into focus a little more with every adjusted dose. You feel their eyes on you. You hear their fascination muddled by fear and discomfort. They're not a green crew but they only had 3 Spartans before and now they have 6.

And you're not like other Spartans. Not even like the rest of your generation. Gammas were something else. IIIs aren't as polite as IIs, there wasn't time in the suicide trainings for manners or etiquette or scholarly discussions.

Your team has specialists in stealth and information so it's only a matter of time before you heard it all. Gross devaluation of human life, ethics violations, just kids with scarred tissue aged at least a decade. Ticking time bombs, drain on resources, maybe not in so many words but hearing what they didn't mean to say, reading between the lines, knowing who on staff would break first was important to keep them alive. None of them were in top fighting form.

But not for long.

Still when you are welcome and abhorred by the same doctors that had one of your own under observation you had to play it safe.

The fighting was never done. Playing for time and breathing room was standard operating procedure at this point. ONI had made them see enemies in allies and vice versa.

All they could do now was wait. Time would iron out the rest of the details.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Hallo my lovely friend Stumpy! ; v ; I am home. How's about 'Rain', for the single word ask? I hope you've been so well! <3

Hello! So good to hear from you! I'm glad you're home and I hope you get a chance to rest! You always work so hard.

Thanks so much for the prompt!

-

Weather on this ring was different. The Ring was still repairing itself and the ecosystems were disrupted by the massive cracks that separated the floating islands. Still, some things never changed.

Like the feeling of rain on Mjolnir on an alien world months into a nearly hopeless campaign.

Zeta Halo had left its mark on all of them. He saw it in the faces of the remaining troopers. In Esparza's and hers. The rain came in quick showers, not enough to wash away the dust of patrols. The water came quick and sat in the dirt roads only to bake for a few hours of starlight as the day/night cycle spun. It turned the weather humid and brought more complaints from the marines.

It was almost familiar. An imitation so close to real.

The rains had come again and his Gen 3 Mjolnir nearly reacted the same as his old, comfortable gear. The shields flickered as the drops pelted him. Rivulets ran down his visor while he remained still and dry.

A marine down the path leading up to the FOB looks around before hopping in a puddle and splashing around.

Some things never change.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

For the writer ask - I will absolutely never forget the way Morbid Curiosity made me feel, Stumpy. That fic is still one of my favourite of your's and it effects me in a profound way each and every time I read it. Also, I would be remiss to not also mention Like a Force to be Reckoned With, which I fully accept as canon without argument. I hope you will always keep writing, because your talent and passion is something so beautiful. That you share it with us is our very great privilege indeed! Love you! 💙

You're too sweet! I'm going to fall over this is so kind of you to say. I will never stop writing, it’s too much fun and I love being a nuisance and reading tags.

I put a lot of thought and effort and probably too much of myself in that first chapter. I'm still really proud of that fic and I will get the rest out eventually, I swear. There's outlines and scenes and just a lot of choices to make. It’s also a lot of fun to give depth to characters that people pigeonhole into the funny sassy character or the rules guy.

And it’s not my fault Halo gave us a cool universe with brain theft and pseudo-people and no one stopped me from taking it and running.

As for Like a Force to be Reckoned With, it’s what we needed. Halo is a great playground to write in because of how much could be fixed or changed. If they’re going to give us fun characters only to send them to a farm upstate the Ark, then I’m going to take them and do something else.

Thank you so much for the ask! It’s great to hear from you!

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

POV for writing meme? ' w '

I'm trying more of those outsider POV fics of how the marines might react to Chief in Infinite.

From this ask game!

You can't feel sensation in your arms or legs anymore but when the marine hogtied next to you starts cheering about the Master Chief, you think for a second maybe you aren't the worst one off in this camp. Of course you'd already overheard discussions of rationing human meat and the closest Brutes had been eyeing the remnants of your platoon a little too closely.

You turn your head to quiet them when you see Big, Green, and Mean come swinging in and crush a Brute's skull with the butt of his gun and then jump into a pack of grunts who start squealing something awful.

You know you're not dead yet because he kills the power to whatever tech is binding you and you fall to the ground and scramble for fallen weapons. Kicking the dead Brute for good measure you limp your way after Chief, following the swath of dead Banished and frustrated cries of their leader on the comms. The roar of a phantom blocks it all out for a second but even reinforcements can't stop Him.

You stop watching when he gets one of those beam guns and vaporizes the charging Brutes. You have nothing in your gut but the smell still makes you retch. You didn't think they could smell any worse.

[infinityactual]

🖊 for the OC ask! Any OC you'd like to share! ' U '

Giuseppe speaks Sumerian as a second language! He took it in college literally after throwing a dart at the list of languages because he couldn't decide which one he wanted to take, and he actually wrote Audrey a fucking love letter on a clay tablet and had the art department fire it for him. He also sings three or four Sumerian folk songs/lullabies for his sons when they're little. I have no idea how he stays in practice. He also plays Ukulele (idk if I said that elsewhere already or not) and he wears corset vests both because they look hella good and because the pressure helps him feel less anxious during important meetings and other Fancy Social To-dos, like a human Thundershirt.

And I can't remember if I've gone into this on tunglr or not, but Lasky Does Not Like Bugs, and that dislike becomes a borderline phobia after the events of FUD when he encounters Mgalekgolo for the first time.

Prior to that, bugs were a manageable level of dislike, as long as he could shoo it outside (or at least out of HIS room). But the knowledge that these enormous alien monsters consist of worms?? That really freaked his bean in a serious way. Sarah pranked him by tossing a rubber centipede at his face exactly once, and he screeched like a pterodactyl and parkour'd over several pieces of furniture to get away. And while he can deal with Mgalekgolo if he knows beforehand they're going to be around, it's obvious that he Does Not Like It and it leaves him feeling exhausted after. If he were to bump into one while rounding a corner, that's grounds for panic. He'd scramble back frantically and put the first thing he could between him and it pretty much on reflex.

[biomecharnotaurus]

🖊 for the OC ask! ' U ' Any OC is more than welcome. I adore your world and character building!

Awww you are always so kind!! Thank you 😭 ❤️❤️❤️

I'll go with...uuh Arlene!! She is not really an OC but more like an extremely overcomplicated headcanon/AU version of 2 preexisting canon characters (Arlene Sanders from the Doom novels and Crash from Quake 3 Arena) combined together, but probably still considerable my own character at this point

As in Crash's canon, she was Flynn's Drill Sergeant, and also Stan's of course. Despite FOX not having the best reputation as a squad, she is one of the best and most well trained marines to work for UAC, and damn if she is good at her job. She has a total of 15 years of service in 2022, against the 9 of Flynn and Stan.

She is also a good example of how much the UAC Gunny equipment changed through the years:

She is not particularly tall (1,64 m /5'5 ft), but her genetical and mechanical modification improved her stats at the point of being capable to replace an exoskeleton, making her a perfect "war machine"...or that is what who doesn't know her personally thinks.

Despite being a tough drill instructor, she is very caring to her comrades. She is not a medic whatsoever, but she still tries to help in case of injuries or/and sickness. She is probably the only person that actually managed to mentally help Stan, which wasn't exactly doing that great before they were dating. She also really likes Flynn, but it's more like a big sister-little brother type of friendship. She loves him but doing stuff like stealing his PDA so he can't go to the bathroom is funny

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

'// U //' for the no-pain prompts: The Gammas watching Fred and Veta interact from a distance, all heckling and appreciating them in equal amounts. 💙

Okay so first I have to say I reread Sugarsweet because it's awesome and I'm still trying to nail the characterization the way you have. So this is a follow up to that in a way. Freta....and their 3 beautiful mutant children :)

-

Something was different between Mom and the Lt.

They had been preparing since Kelly had sent the message after their unofficial mission to the bar. Mom had been tight-lipped after they got back but said she did deliver their message to Fred. The Lt had ignored their looks and then had the nerve to make them run extra drills when they pressed him the next day. Ash had opened his mouth to ask why his ears were so red but Olivia elbowed him in time and Mark dragged the two of them away.

Linda gave nothing away and Kelly only smiled wider when they swarmed them at meal times. It was only after another slog of classes and trainings that Kelly showed mercy and gave them some advice.

"Fred's never been good at schooling his face. You need to be patient, treat this as reconnaissance practice. Learn his tells, watch their body language, and if they catch you say it's part of your homework."

So the Ferrets began their information gathering.

Their targets had busy schedules but always seemed to catch each other in the morning, right after meetings. They'd walk to Mom's office before the next round of briefings, and the Ferrets could tell something was up. The body language between them was light and open, playful even as the Lt brushed his knuckles against her elbow. He stood in her door and chatted for what seemed like forever, at least for a Spartan.

The Ferrets watched and learned before slinking away. Meeting Mom later meant noticing the large jacket on the back of her chair as she fidgeted in her new office and spun in circles while they sprawled out over every available surface.

She couldn't understand how they seemed comfortable sitting anywhere, but something was off. Her kids' body language was too relaxed. They looked like they did when trying to blend in as civilians. A little too much effort in appearing apathetic.

Lopis stops spinning her chair and squints her eyes at them, folding her hands on her desk in her best Osman impression.

"What are you up to?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Mark almost fools her with the act but the way he bites his cheek gives him away. Olivia does a decent job distracting her with "Well we wanted to check on you. How have you been adjusting to the recent changes?"

"Uh huh..." Lopis replies sardonically and turns her gaze to Ash who is smiling a bit too wide. "Ash?"

"I just wanted to ask about your new jacket, doesn't really seem like your size, Mom."

There’s a knock at her door, and she lets out a quiet breath and calls them in.

It’s Fred. Of course it’s Fred.

He’s mirroring her expression, a deer frozen in the headlights before he weakly asks,

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope!”

“No.”

“We’re done here.”

The Ferrets pop up in unison and file out the door with smiles on their faces. Both adults are watching them go without stopping them, and Mark closes the door with a “Bye Mom, Bye Dad, have fun on your date!”