#decontamination tunnel

[theladyregret]

Wow, I...vastly underestimated how much you guys would vibe with the whole The Walking Dead in Space thing lol ok well...now that I have a day off from work here's some of the ideas I've been thinking about while bored this week.

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Human Diplomat: Hey, is there a reason all the water access areas don't allow humans anymore? Don't you guys know we have high water requirements?

Alien Space Station technician: Oh! No one told you?

Human: Told us what?

Alien: Sorry, they were supposed to tell you. Our apologizes, this must look terrible.

Human: Tell. Us. What?

Alien: Our bio filters detected the disease you all carry in the stations water supply after you visited last. Our scientists ran some tests and found that it can survive almost indefinitely in water and is highly resistant to our water treatments. We had to purge and decontaminate the entire system. We created a separate system for your use that is more isolated. You can use those....I....uh...are you ok? Is this sufficient?

Human, frantically writing in a log book: Oh? Yes, fine...that's fine!

Second human: I think you guys just solved a centuries old mystery for us.

Alien, looking confused: What mystery?

Second human: How our species all became infected so quickly.

Alien: You never found out?

Human: It wiped out 99% of our population during the initial outbreak...the how and why of it kind of stopped mattering after a bit, you know?

---------

Galactic News Reporter: Tragedy today after the recent excavation of the lost human mining crew in sector 92. Against human recommendations, rescuers continued their efforts throughout the week. The human deceased, commonly referred to as Walkers, attacked and killed several rescue parties before the site had to be bombed by air support military. Diplomats from several species met once again today to discuss the risks of open contact with the Humans and whether stricter protocols need to be put in place.

Video feed cuts to a human diplomat standing in a room full of multiple different aliens: We told you what to do! You didn't listen! You never listen to us! If you had, none of this would have happened!

Alien Politician: You recommended that the tunnels be collapsed before any excavation be conducted prior to the time frame denoted by safety regulations which would have condemned any potential survivors-

Human, hitting the table in front of him with his fists: YOU'RE STILL NOT LISTENING!

--------

Transport ship pilot over PA system: Our ship is currently on approach to the Human home planet of Terra. Be aware that we will be passing through the debris field left over from the Human Colony Wars which will require us to drop out of FTL. Our ship is specially equipped for this journey so rest assured we are in no danger from the debris. It is recommended that any windows be shielded for the duration of this time, thank you.

Human passenger pulls the shade down for their window with a sigh.

The alien next to them looks curious: Why do the windows need to be covered?

Human: Some people find the...debris...disturbing. *the way they said debris sounded sarcastic*

Alien: ...humans find broken ships disturbing?

Human: You didn't do very much research before coming here did you?

Alien just looks confused.

Human reaches over and opens the window cover. They pass close by one of the wrecked ships and at first it looks like any other debris field...then something moves and they realize it's a body. A human body floating in space. It jerks and twists as they pass by. Mouth opening and closing. The alien jerks back in surprise.

Human: The vacuum of space means they don't decompose so...all those people who didn't die properly...they're just out there...like that. Thousands of soldiers. Ships just full of Walkers.

They pass by another ship. This one looks intact and newer.

Alien: That's not human...

Human: Pirates...scavengers. Sometimes they try to come in and take metal from the ships...but...without the proper shielding.

They pass to the other side and there's a hole torn into the side of the ship.

Human: Just another corpse in a field of corpses. Food for the dead.

Alien looking horrified: Why not clean it out?

Human: Why take the risk? Besides...it keeps out the unwanted.

They pass by the corpse of an alien floating in space that still has a walker clinging to it, idly chewing on what still has flesh attached to it. This walker looks more decayed then the other one had. The alien looks like they might be sick so the human shuts the shade again. They don't talk the rest of the way.

[thestobingirlie]

i hate how theyre trying to make the supplemental media canon, especially when it counteracts established canon, either from the show or other supplemental media.

but the stranger things creatives dont seem to know the meaning of the word "canon" because they counteract previously established canon in the show.

take the atmosphere of the upside down.

in s1, it's well established that the atmosphere is toxic. lab employees use full hazmat suits and breathing apparatus when they're even going near the gate, let alone through it. joyce and hopper are given the same equipment when they go to get will. will is obviously very sick from the atmosphere.

in s2, the toxic atmosphere remains. hopper gets sick after spending a night in the tunnels. he then has to be decontaminated in the lab by agents in hazmat suits. when owens shows him the gate, they're all wearing hazmat suits. when steve and the kids go into the tunnels, they all wear makes and goggles.

but in s4, it's fine. steve, eddie, nancy and robin spend hours running around the upside down trying to escape, and none of them seem concerned about the toxic atmosphere, or that steve has open wounds in a toxic atmosphere. the kids don't pick up on it either. then they go back into the upside down again without anything to protect them from the atmosphere, and we're supposed to believe that they're just fine afterwards.

i honestly think the duffers have just forgotten, and also can’t be arsed lol.

i guess maybe they also kind of needed to tone down the upside down being toxic so no one really questions how vecna (still human despite looking like that and being dickless) managed to survive down there for so long.

steve just has canonical magical healing powers atp, because that boy should be dead lmao. running around open wounds. barefoot. not a care in the world. doesn’t even get his wounds checked. and stobancy got strangled for about half an hour. and somehow they don’t even have bruises lol.

[ms-macintosh]

City of Devils - Episode 1

Dion City, Capital of earth. What a beautiful place to be… everyone says. Its skyscrapers rise above the clouds, and its vast array of buildings are connected by bridges and tunnels so you can go absolutely anywhere. On foot, no less. It's full of tourist traps, restaurants that are extremely expensive, though almost worth the price if you order the right things. almost. It's a city that’s full of visitors, and rarely anyone but the super-corporations stay permanently. 

Well, That’s the High end. Dion City is known as the city for Vacations and The Omni-Uber-Rich, sure, but there’s another end, on the ground. The Low end, where the gangs fight over scraps, where the Rich never go to, nor even mention to their precious public. A place where all sorts of unpopular people go for opportunities. 

Of course, this side of the city has a name other than just “The Low End.” it got its name for a reason:

The City Of Devils.

That’s my Job, A Devil. We’re the controllers of the city, the powerful ones with means to back it up. I’m just a simple soldier, sure, but I work for the strongest gang to ever live. We regulate the underground rules, and keep order for all of the smaller gangs. 

My job as a Devil Gang soldier is not that hard. More of a bodyguard, really. I watch the big bosses, I get paid. One of ours dies, I don’t get paid. Basic economics… except its gang warfare in the middle of the 22nd century.

Tonight, I have a job: I’m escorting Gon Knix, one of our top generals, to a deal with a rival gang. If all goes well, we have a trade that benefits us both with no casualties.

All never goes well. I don’t care how optimistic you can be, the data doesn’t lie. Nine times out of ten? It goes south fast. The other one out of ten? It goes south a little slower.

As such, I need to make sure I come back without looking like swiss cheese. I grab my repair kit, and arm myself with a model 2100 revolver and an AK, shoving it all in my coat for when I go. It's going to be a long night, so I need to charge my batteries now. I set an alarm, and let my mind drift off, thinking about the grapple hook I could buy with a big job’s payout like this one.

* * * * *

I pull myself back into focus 3 minutes before my alarm goes off, so I decide to take a quick decontamination shower. Nice and warm on my cold metal, just how I like it. After that, I grab my coat, check it, put on my hat, and head off to the rendezvous point.

I’m early again, so I take in the view. It's dark here, with green, pink, yellow and blue neon lights everywhere in sight. People walk around like any old city, but everyone walks with purpose. No one here is caught off guard, unless you’re a piece of fresh meat. That’s what a lot of locals would call them, but someone new is a wild card. I especially don’t mess with them.

It's a couple of hours past the few rays of sunlight we get, since the city wall blocks the setting sun. about six o’clock, if I’d venture a guess; restaurants are bustling, and lines flood out of their doors. Not a single restaurant is without a wait. 

Even the Indian place, Prasad’s, is full. I must've forgotten it's saturday. I usually go there after work and talk to the owner. They love talking to me, especially when I bring buddies who can actually eat. 

Amidst sightseeing, I see Gon Knix pull up in a JAX Hover-limo. Those rich people love spending their money on superfluous things, where a car will do just fine. Seriously, only the rich would even have the idea of wanting a hovering vehicle. Cars on wheels are great! And cheap!

Whatever, whatever. I get my paycheck; As long as I live. I just have to keep my cool, and everything will be fine. Can’t kill your boss and expect your paycheck.

I climb into the floating behemoth of a vehicle, with two human guards sitting next to Gon Knix and me sitting across from him. Figures he’d separate the one robot in the group.

The JAX has a red carpeted interior, bright like in the really old cars. It's a shiny black on the outside, with an imposing angular profile that just screams “Boss.” its lights even have small blackouts to look like angry eyes. If that isn’t a Big and Bad Guy Car, nothing is.

Again, a good old wheeled vehicle does the trick around here either way. No one in the City of Devils is rich enough to go to the high end, so a flying craft isn’t necessary. Of course, then there’s the problem of parking: I usually stick to walking, myself. After all, I live only a few minutes of walk time from our gang’s usual rendezvous point.

Gon Knix has started bellowing. “I want to play this as a clean trade. Today, I can’t take risks, so I want your guns at your sides.” This deal is a pretty big one, from what I could tell. Three Devil Soldiers is a lot for one car, and this is the Gon Knix. he might as well be my Boss. Well, for today, he is. Normally I answer to someone a lot lower.

“This deal needs to go smoothly. No funny business, and no threats,” Gon Knix continued. “Stay behind me, and do not get aggressive unless I give the order.” Good, this night may go smoothly. For once.

Oh, who am I kidding? We’re bringing three soldiers and one of our generals to some trade deal. It's going to get ugly really fast. Might as well check to make sure I’m loaded now.

Looking down at my revolver, it has its energy cell properly placed in its chamber. Six little glowing rectangles show me it's fully cooled, ready to turn six faces into six holes before it has to let off steam. Its sights are off, from a slight chipping. Who knows when that happened. I can easily compensate for it when aiming though. 

My AK is looking… like an AK. It has its signature curved magazine, and its dust cover is angled with an attachment rail up top. But really, who uses anything but iron sights on an AK? 

* * * * *

Landing at the site, my sense of direction tells me we’re in the back alleys of the Chinatown district. Certainly smells like it too: the rotting white takeout boxes, the noodles, and of course, plenty of people wanting into that one really good thai place that really shouldn’t be in Chinatown due to it being, well, thai and not Chinese, but no one cares because the food is, well, that good. Our limo drops us off by a large alley, more than enough to fit all four of us wide. It’s got an exit on the other side, and plenty of dumpsters and doors for cover. Perfect for what I planned for: an absolute massacre. Whether that’s my group or theirs, I couldn’t say.

Taking Gon Knix’s advice, I pull out my pistol and hold it at my side; my AK still in my coat, with its handle sticking out of its pocket ready to go. The other soldiers do the same; one has an old AR pattern rifle, and another with just a laser hand-cannon. We tread behind Gon Knix, Guns ready but not aiming. 

At the other end of the alley comes another Hover-limo, with an insignia of the Lion Gang. They usually like to stir up trouble, but only a few henchmen step out of the doors. If there’s so few henchmen, there’s bound to be a sniper or two. Looking around, I spot them on the rooftop, from a glint in their scope. I can also see that the magazine of the rifle is a little crooked. They’re to my right, pointing at Gon Knix and not any of us soldiers. Let’s see how well that goes for them.

The Leader that steps out of the hover-limo can only be described by one word; Big. This guy is a good eight feet tall, with wide shoulders and an openly half-metal face. Normally, you can get a bit of rubber to cover up whatever cybernetics you can have, but they just lean into the cyborg look, and… kinda rock it. It's a real shame that’s an enemy gang leader, they could easily be one of our generals by looks alone.

My fist clenches on the handle of my pistol, almost sweating and trembling, if it weren’t for the fact that I have no sweat glands; and I remember my situation. This fight is going to be hard, when it comes down to numbers. Seven henchmen and a sniper for our three soldiers. I focus on the numerous tempos of breathing around me, and listen to Gon Knix’s voice for the signal; a change in tone, a specific sentence that hints towards a threat, but there’s nothing.

“Mister Pride, it's been some time,” declares Gon Knix; his voice calm, collected, cool, but loud and commanding the situation. “Do you have what I asked for?”

Pride spoke with a deep voice, a hint of a russian accent. That must be why he’s so tall; probably one of their super-soldier projects. “I do. And you have the money?”

“Of course. No need to fight for it. Standard rules, set it down and slide it over.” Gon Knix responded almost excitedly, by his standards at least. 

With a clean, harmless, and cooperative slide of the two briefcases, Gon Knix looked into it to find exactly what he needed, and smiled. Pride looked a bit unhappy though, as he stared at a suitcase full of money. “This is in the wrong currency,” came his voice, bellowing and starting to get angry. “I asked for USD, not Global currency.”

Then, right there, came the signal from Gon Knix. “Well that’s a shame. I guess the deal… is off.”

Immediately, I began to focus. my tremble, my uneasiness, all of my fear faded as I sensed everything.

The clicking of the sniper’s trigger, the Henchmen mumbling and panicking as their ace in their sleeve didn’t work by mere ‘random chance.’ Pride realized what happened, and started yelling at his henchmen in some other language. Judging by the accent earlier, it's likely russian. My own comrades were raising their arms, and in this moment I focused and stood still, slowing time to a near stop… then fired my revolver. 

First shot to the sniper, straight to the head through the scope I hope. I didn’t have much time to calculate it precisely. Second to a henchman, then third, fourth, fifth and sixth among the rest. Only two lived, to which I drew my AK in my off hand faster than a human could blink and sprayed down the alley. The muzzle lit up everything, from scrap metal to trash cans to the dumpsters and the eyes of the last henchies standing. 

After my mag emptied, the only one left was Pride: his knees wobbling, a single drop of sweat down his face at the sight of me. He tried turning to run, to which a single round to the knee stopped. Props to the guy with the AR, I didn’t have to reload.

“Where’d you learn to aim like that, Kid?” his voice was as shocked as Pride’s was, but not out of fear: out of admiration.

Of course, I responded as casually as I could. “Oh, it's all in the wrist.” it most certainly is not.

“Looks to me like you’re getting paid,” came the reply of the dirty elitist named Gon Knix. Finally, something I can understand.

* * * * *

Gon Knix Called me into his office at a local underground bar. He’s either really impressed, or really disappointed. Given my performance recently, I’m hoping for impressed. 

I open the door into his office, and close it politely behind me. I sit down in front of my boss, and he starts talking. The words have to struggle to get through the wall of his ego.

“You did good today, kid.” his voice barely climbs out of his mouth, through all his flab around his face. I walked by three homeless families on my way here. All of them were starving.

These elitists are all the same, inhumane and constantly living like there’s never going to be a problem. The thought makes me sick.

The job today went better than usual, sure, but I’ve reached my limit with this guy. Gon Knix has become demanding, consuming, and if I could, I would just leave. But no, I have to ‘respect him’ because he bought his way to his position. 

“Your work hasn’t gone unnoticed. The budget has been worked around a wee bit, and it appears that we can give you a little bonus.” I have to turn up my sensors to understand him now. “The only little cost, however, is that your friends may have… delays in their own checks.”

I know this technique all too well. He’s trying to get me to trust him, side with the rest of the elitists. I won’t stand for it. “With all due respect, sir, if you want to raise my pay, take it out of your own pocket. I joined this gang to defend equality among the commoners, not so you could play favorites.” standing up feels good, doesn’t it? Defending your rights, keeping your comrades up and alive. “Call me back when you’re willing to do that.”

“Listen, scrapheap.” Oh, do I want him dead. “You either take this money, or you don’t get paid this week. I’m trying to help you here.” What a load of scrap. I was hoping to use the money for a new grapple hook, but my loyalties do not lie with money.

“Then I don’t need my pay. Give it to the rest of the Devils in my squad,” Tipping my hat and leaving, I walk home. 

It's bright out tonight, with neon colors everywhere. I stand with the crowd, the brim of my hat just above some of the shortest people. Finally arriving at my apartment building on Seventh street, I step inside after getting my serial number scanned. I wish I could just have a passcode, but at the end of the day…

To them, I’m just a bot. 

[ahoysailorsteve]

I posted 2,444 times in 2022

That's 2,164 more posts than 2021!

144 posts created (6%)

2,300 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@scooprtrooprbutchristmas

@gingerbreadmunson

@skullrock

@lesbianrobin

@midnightrainmayfield

I tagged 2,402 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#st4 spoilers - 1,292 posts

#steve harrington - 563 posts

#eddie munson - 479 posts

#st4 - 261 posts

#robin buckley - 147 posts

#nancy wheeler - 134 posts

#steve and eddie - 120 posts

#st cast - 97 posts

#dustin henderson - 91 posts

#max mayfield - 88 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i know i mentioned empire before and never went back to fully elaborate but yea the 'traitor' comment is what tipped me towards that theory

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

yall mind if i scream

280 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

#4

goddd when I said I wanted to see steve with a bat again that was NOT what I had in mind

420 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#3

ummm???

823 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

#2

steve harrington post s2: *has endured intense trauma both physically and emotionally, got dumped in a bathroom after getting called out on his attempts to suppress said trauma instead of dealing with it, definitely needs some therapy or at least a brain scan for the numerous head injuries*

the duffers writing s3 steve:

1,791 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

s1: the atmosphere in the upside down is toxic, hazmat suits are required to go through the gate, will just barely makes it

s2: spores everywhere, hopper and dustin both inhale them, hopper is fully decontaminated at the lab after being saved from the tunnels because of the toxicity, steve and the kids wear goggles and masks to protect themselves

st4: fuck it, walk walk fashion baby

4,276 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[munsons-maiden]

Steve said when they got to Eddie’s trailer in the Upside Down “I just inhaled that stuff” (or something very similar, definitely inhaled), meaning he breathed in the particles…do we think this could come back? Do we think Steve breathing in the particles could somehow make him be controlled by Vecna? Hmm

I don't think the spores can flay people, else Vecna would have made use of that way earlier. But they're definitely as toxic as the rest of the atmosphere in the UD - I mean, Brenner had his people do whole decontamination showers and Steve and the kids put bandanas over their faces before they went into the tunnels in ST2. I wonder why they didn't do that in ST4.

[molsons112000]

Watch "This $45BN Megaproject Will Forever Change Paris" on YouTube

So all these construction companies that remove Earth can use a conveyor belt as they move the material through.They can remove any pollutants from the material as it passes through these lasers.

You can also create drones or a vehicle like a zamboni. But this goes over soil and underneath.It has numerous lasers that hit the soil to decontaminate the soil of pollution.

So any building site that they're doing.They can remove the contaminants from the soil that they remove and they can also purify the soil around the construction site. So yes, the soil that is removed is purified of all plumes, but the remaining soil that created the wall of the dig they can purify. Also, with these tunnel boring machines. They can have above it lasers that after it. Removes the soil the lasers outside of it purify the soil before they put on the panels. So literally the tunnel boarding machine will purify the soil.It removes and it will purify the soil around the tunnel boring machine before the panels are placed on. So literally it's purifying the Earth. It means they don't have to worry about pollution leaching in to the tunnels. Because this is one thing they don't address is the environmental toxin of the soil that surrounds the tunnels. It's especially a place like Paris, France and all of Europe, where there's been unbelievable amounts of continuous war. And also , the population of the united states is fairly new in comparison

upi.com

https://www.upi.com › 2017/08/29

Lasers inspire new soil detox technique - UPI.com

Aug 29, 2017 — Researchers have developed a new technique for ridding soil of pollutants: blasting the dirt with lasers.

Missing: incinerate ‎| Show results with: incinerate

DiVA portal

https://www.diva-portal.org › ...PDF

Disposal of Toxic and Non-Toxic Waste through Lasers

by A Islam · 2013 — The original idea was to use solar pumped lasers to destroy toxic and non-toxic waste materials. Solid, liquid and gas toxic materials listed were supplied by ...

228 pages·3 MB

So there's been modern warfare in Europe for the last 40,000 years. So there's unbelievable amount of environmental pollution.

About 40,000 years ago

Modern humans supplanted the scanty Neanderthal population in Europe about 40,000 years ago, and by the beginning of the 2nd millennium bce the general population groups that would become the historical peoples and countries of Europe were in place.

Physical geography and history …

www.britannica.com/summary/Europe

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[seepiner]

Zombie night terror walkthrough moonwalkers three towers

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Make your way to each Terminal and activate the Hydro-Energy Infusions. You will find both of Terminals in the same room, adjacent to each other. To do so, look for the two Terminal way points that are now showing in the Particle Accelerator room. Now that the power is turned on, it's time to unlock the Pack-A-Punch. Once you reach the small room, unlock the door for 1,750 points and interact with the Red button to turn on the power. Once inside the Particle Accelerator room, look for the Power icon and navigate the area. This door will lead you to the Particle Accelerator room and will cost you back 1,500 points. With the Medical Bay now unlocked, head inside and look for the next door. You'll want to open the door on your left, as it leads to the Medical Bay - this will set you back 1,500 points. Enter the Facility and continue following the path until you reach a set of doors in the Control Room. Head inside the Tunnel and turn left, here you will find a newly opened door that leads to the Facility. Follow the Crash Site to the opposite end - you'll pass the Jugger-Nog Perk Machine along the way - and you will find yet another blocked path marked by a large red cross that leads to an underground tunnel. Clear the doorway for 1,000 points and continue to the Crash Site. At the very end, you will find a blocked doorway next to the large purple arrow on the wall, just across from the Stamin-Up Perk Machine. You will need to clear the debris blocking the staircase for 750 points in order to continue.Īt the top of the staircase, turn left and make your way towards the end of the "Bedroom". Now that you're inside, look for the staircase that leads to the second floor - this will be marked with a bright purple arrow that points towards the floor above. Just right of this table, you will find a green door - use 500 points to open it. To do so, look for the crafting table that can be found up against the wall of the nearby building. Wonder Weapons, you will need to turn on the power. Step Three: Get the Decontamination Agentįirst things first, before you go obtaining any of the D.I.E.Step One: Collect Doctor Vogel's Diary and Speak with the Three Anomalies.Looking for something specific? Click the quick links below to be taken to that particular section! Browse the collection for many more top titles.How to Complete the Die Maschine Cold War Zombies Easter Whatever flavor of zombie apocalypse game you seek, you shall find it here. Check out Zombs Royale or Zombie Hunters Online for some top-down zombie-slaying mayhem. Check out Stickman: Legacy Zombie War too!Īnother exciting way to experience this apocalypse scenario is online with friends. Infected Days is a superb, action-packed game using this format. The classic survival game features intensifying waves of zombies that test your ability to keep your cool under pressure. Check out Sandbox City - Cars, Zombies, Ragdolls! For that. But sometimes you just want to run zombies down in slow-motion while driving a car. Surviving against hordes of zombies can be a fun challenge.

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[industrial-air-solutions-cbe]

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Address Info

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[thelordofdarkreunion]

The Worst Planet in the Universe

The “humans are weird/earth is space Australia” stories that are quite famous here usually have aliens reacting to how they think humanity or Earth is really strange and bizarre.  So, I got an idea: what if people could react not to Earth, but to one of the singular worst planets in all of science fiction?  Here, we have some of the characters of the Magnificent Scoundrels reacting to the planet of Krieg and its infamous Death Korps from Warhammer 40k.  

Death Korps is pronounced “death core” not “death corpse.”   Jeicher is pronounced the German way, as “yay-cur”, not “jai-cher.”  

“In life, war.  In death, peace.  In life, suffering.  In death, atonement.”  -Final litany of the Litany of Sacrifice, recited by the Guardsmen of the Death Korps of Krieg when entering battle

The shuttle slipped through the dead and polluted atmosphere, shields raised to their fullest capacity to avoid the boiling streaks of orange lightning.  The occupants of the shuttle stared warily out the window, still nervous even though their craft was in the hands of some of the best pilots in the universe.  

“I still don’t understand why we’re here,” said Commissar Cain from a strapped-in seat in the shuttle’s rear.  

“Well, we’re visiting planets from each other’s galaxies,” replied Admiral Vir from the cockpit as he and Solo desperately tried to avoid the lighting.  

“Yeah, I know that,” snapped back Cain.  “What I don’t understand is why we’re here.  Out of all the planets in the galaxy, you pick this one.”  

“You wanted to know more about populous Imperial Guard regiment homeworlds, and you said Krieg sounded like an interesting name,” muttered Solo as a particularly large blast lit up the cockpit window.  “Starting to regret that now?”

“I most certainly am!” screamed Dr. Kril from inside the heavy clear plastic compartment designed to hold him when accompanying Vir off the Omen.  “And I thought Earth was a death world!”  

“Radiation levels are approaching 3,700 roentgan,” said Vir, crisply reading off the cockpit instruments.  

“We’re all gonna die,” wailed Kril.  

The shuttle’s communication system crackled to life, and a dry, toneless voice sounded over it. 

“Shuttle B-77401, you are clear of the storm in twenty seconds.  Please proceed to landing pad RT-556 at coordinates 66579.  Radiation levels on ground are currently 1,500 roentgan.”  

“I remember reading up on your horrible human disasters, and that’s the level of radiation the Chernobyl disaster had right next to the plant as the fires were still going!” screeched Kril.  “I will not be stepping foot on this planet!  If you have a death wish, that's fine with me, but I won’t be leaving the shuttle!”  He crossed his arms and sat against the container wall.  Vir and Solo didn’t have time to respond.

“Breaking storm now.”  The lightning and horrible, swirling grey clouds cleared, only to reveal a scene of utter devastation.  The land below was an endless expanse of grey and brown.  Entire swaths of earth were covered with grey dust.  Other areas were endless seas of irradiated mud, with ancient and rusted barbed wire, empty concrete bunkers, and long abandoned and corroded gun emplacements sticking out from the infinite brown.  A few ossified trees, long dead, peeked up in places, the only signs of life, or what was once life, on the planet.  

“What happened here?” murmured Vir.  

“A tale of tragedy, and betrayal,” replied Cain softly.  “Once upon a time, some 1,500 years ago, Krieg was a massive city world.  The ruling oligarchy decided to turn their backs on the Emperor and rebel against the Imperium of Man.  The commander of the loyalist Guard forces decided that if the Imperium couldn’t have the planet, no one would.  But despite the unleashing of a stash of Dark Age nuclear weapons, the people of Krieg survived, and loyalist fought traitor in a five hundred year long war in the trenches of the wastes.”  The shuttle was silent, imagining how horrible such a war would be.  This singular civil war, on this singular planet, eclipsed even the most horrible of fights from most of their home galaxies.  “Eventually, the loyalists won, and rejoined the Imperium.  Ever since, the people of Krieg have fought in the deadliest of Imperial warzones to repent for their ancient betrayal.”  

“Wait, wait, wait.  There are people that live here?  This isn’t just a military base?” asked an incredulous Solo.

“Yes,” replied Cain.  “They live in massive underground cities, safely shielded from the worst of the radiation aboveground.” 

“My god… there aren’t really words to describe that,” said Vir.  

“Shuttle B-77401, you are cleared for landing,” came the voice of the controller.  “Please wear radiation-proof suits.  Commissar Jeicher will be present along with an honor guard to escort you.”   The brown of mud gave way to a large, circular landing pad sunk into Krieg’s dead earth.  The pad led to a set of stairs, travelling down into a set of heavy, sealed double doors, leading even further down into the ruined planet’s crust.  On the pad were two figures, clad in greatcoats and gasmasks, flanked by a double line of soldiers.  Vir and Solo set the shuttle down.  

In the back, Cain had already pulled the hood of a radiation-proof bodysuit over his head, and attached an anachronistic looking gasmask.  Over this, he donned an old and tattered Commissarial cap and greatcoat.  Vir and Solo also donned much more modern-looking gas masks over their bodysuits, and went to the shuttle’s rear as Kril screeched about the dangers of radiation.  With the quick press of a button, they activated the airlock and stepped onto the surface of the ruined planet.  

Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance as they stepped down the shuttle ramp and came face to face with what they presumed to be Commissar Jeicher.  He was wearing the same outfit as Cain, a Commissar’s cap and greatcoat covering his bodysuit and gas mask.  Behind him was a double rank of soldiers, wearing grey greatcoats and gas masks, clutching their las rifles in the ‘present arms’ position.  Next to Jeicher stood another figure, hands clasped neatly behind their back.  This one was dressed in much fancier boots, and wore a cuirassier’s breastplate.  A brown greatcoat was draped over the figure's shoulders, and Vir assumed it to be an officer.  Jeicher reached out to shake each of the trio’s hands in turn.  

“Admiral Vir.  Captain Solo.  Commissar Cain.  A pleasure to have you on Krieg.  I am Commissar Jeicher, and this is Captain Kust,” he said, pointing to the officer behind him.  Kust offered a single, curt nod.  “You wished to have a tour of the planet, and to see it’s capacity for making war.  I can assure you, gentlemen, that Krieg is one of the finest planets in the Imperium in that regard.  I trust you will not be disappointed.”  As he said this, Jeicher led them down the path leading away from the shuttle and towards the underground tunnels.  As they walked, a series of flashes lit up the horizon, followed by the booming of thunder.  Jeicher raised a gloved hand and gestured in the general direction of the noise.

“About twenty kilometers in that direction, we have the artillery and live-fire drills of the soon to be 712th Death Korps Regiment.  It is the be the newest regiment coming into Imperial service, and the thirtieth Death Korps regiment raised this month.  They will soon be shipping out to Warzone Viclius in the Segmentum Pacificus to break a massive ork siege of the Viclius sector.”  They reached the end of the twin lines of troopers.  

“Right shoulder, arms!” yelled Kust, her voice (Vir could tell it was a ‘her’ underneath the mask now) managing to carry through both her mask and Krieg’s stormy atmosphere.  “Left face!”  The Korpsmen spun to face the heavy blast doors in perfect synchronicity.  Jeicher inputted some sort of code, and, with a great creaking and grinding of metal, the doors slid open.  “Forward, march!”  

The group, followed by the honour guard, stepped into a large white room.  As the doors closed behind them, various nozzles sprayed radiation-retardant foam onto them.  The airlock process completed, the heavy set of double doors in front of them opened.  Despite the decontamination, no one took their masks off.

The halls were quite familiar to Vir, but unlike anything he’d seen as a civilization.  They were long, emotionless white and grey concrete bunker systems, lit by cheap yellow bulbs that still allowed him to see perfectly well.  Endless, emotionless bunker halls.  It saddened him.  What a terrible way to live and grow up.  

Through the long walkways, they passed seemingly thousands of Korpsmen, all wearing grey greatcoats, and staring from behind emotionless gas masks.   They all blurred into one, and Vir was grateful that at least Jeicher, Kust, and their honor guard he could pick out from the crowd.  

They reached another large double blast door, and the two Korpsmen standing guard outside snapped to attention.  The group walked through, only for the three offworlders to stop short.  The entire left half of the hallway was a massive clear window.  Far beneath them, a full division of Death Korps Guardsmen marched through an utterly massive, hangar-sized underground hallway.  It was an endless tide of grey coats and gas masks, the thud of their boots echoing up even past the glass of the observation deck.  Tanks rolled past, along with smaller, two legged armored walkers.  

“That’s the 122nd Siege Army.  Newly formed.  They’re shipping out to the southern part of Segmentum Ultima today,” said Jeicher.  He made another motion, and the group, still followed by Kust and her honor guard, left the observation room.  

They walked through more hallways, still stark and emotionless, until they got to another double door.  This area of tunnels and bunkers seemed to have more Korpsmen around.  Officers, wearing their higher, more polished boots and cuirassiers’ breastplates.  The double doors opened, revealing a much more polished and refined room, made mostly out of metal.  Computers clung to the walls, and workstations were filled with Death Korps soldiers, red-robed cybernetic tech-priests, and unmasked commissars.  

 “This is the central command room of this section of Krieg’s underground cities,” said Jeicher, continuing the tour.  “All the regiments and supplies that are raised and produced in section Alpha-Gamma-551 are tracked here.  As you can see, we have more than enough to outfit the two regiments this sector is raising.”  They went through the room, through another series of hallways, and down multiple sets of solid but plain corrugated steel stairs.  

“Here we have the underground munitions factories of Krieg,” said Jeicher, gesturing through another glass panel on an observation deck.  This time, the windows led onto an utterly massive factory floor.  Conveyor belts led to unknown machines, and churned out endless numbers of what seemed to be artillery shells.  “As you can see, everything is completely on schedule.”  Vir noticed workers, all wearing heavy grey suits and gas masks below.  Some of them seemed to be… off, and it took a moment for him to realize precisely why. 

“Wait a minute… are those children?” he wheeled around and demanded at Jeicher.  He was met with the empty lenses of a gas mask.

“Yes,” replied Jeicher.  “I do realize that many off-worlders not of the Munitorum or Mechanicus find the practice… distasteful, but-”

“Distasteful doesn’t even begin to cover it.  More like abhorrent,” snarled Vir.  

“If you cannot fight, you must serve,” intoned Kust.  “All infertile males serve in the Death Korps.  Most fertile males and infertile females serve in the Death Korps.  Most fertile females and some fertile males serve in the munitions factories.  Children cannot go to waste,” she finished, rattling off the practices of Krieg in a completely toneless voice.  Vir looked like he was about to explode.  Cain put a hand on his shoulder, and nodded towards the honor guard and their las guns.  Noticing the mood in the room, Jeicher went on.

“I think it’s best if we go on,” he said.  The group followed him through another set of hallways, and when Kust was out of earshot, Jeicher spoke to the trio of newcomers.  

“Please don’t antagonize the Kriegers,” he said.  “That’s why they have commissars, actually.  To ease the transition between them and any allied forces.” “They deserve to die,” hissed Vir, still shaking with rage.  Jeicher gave a mirthless laugh.

“Oh, they do.  Their entire purpose, their entire existence, is to die in the Emperor’s wars.  They want this.”

“Why?” asked Solo.  “Why would anyone want this?”

“They are driven by one of the most powerful motivators in the world.  Not anger, not love, not faith, but shame.  Shame of their ancient rebellion.  In the Emperor’s service, the Death Korps will pay any price.”  

The group reached another viewing balcony.  This one overlooked a much smaller room, where a group of children in grey overcoats drilled with small las carbines.  Vir clenched his fist in rage, but said nothing.  

“Present arms!” yelled an adult and fully uniformed drill sergeant from behind his gas mask.  The children held out their weapons in front of them, many with as much or even more precision than Vir had seen of new GA marine recruits.  Most of them looked to be no older than six or seven, making the workers in the factory even younger… 

No.  He did not want to think about that.  

The drill instructor moved along the line of recruits (or children, if you were fortunate enough to not be raised in a post-apocalyptic militaristic hellhole, thought Vir.)  The instructor spun and glared at one of the cadets.  

“P-44271930,” he stated.

“Yes, sir!” replied the cadet, with the enthusiasm of a fresh recruit.

“What is your duty, P-44271930?” asked the instructor.  

“To serve the Emperor’s will,” replied the cadet.

“And what is the Emperor’s will?” queried the instructor.

“That we fight and die!”  Vir clenched down so hard he crushed the balcony bar in the viewing room.

“What is death?” asked the instructor.

“It is our duty!” replied the cadet.  The instructor nodded.  

“Very good, P-44271930.”  He took a step back.  “Right shoulder, arms!”  Vir looked at Jeicher.

“They’re calling them by their serial numbers at that young of an age?” he asked, still fuming.  Jeicher inwardly cringed.  He suspected the esteemed Admiral would not like what came next.  

“They don’t have names,” said Kust, with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.  

“What?” asked Vir, in a ‘please, do try my patience’ tone.  

“None of us have names,” replied Kust.  

“You have a name,” pointed out Vir. 

“You only get a name if you survive long enough to become an officer,” replied Kust.  

“Really?”  Vir wheeled around to face the leader of the honor guard.  “What’s your name?” he asked.

“YH-5577933,” replied the man, in a completely emotionless voice.  Vir threw his hands in the air, completely done.

“Fine.”  He nodded at Jeicher.  “Continue the tour,” he snapped.  Jeicher nodded, and motioned them on.  I have to get off this place as soon as possible, thought Vir.  This is… beyond anything I thought possible.

I hope you enjoyed it.  I find Krieg and the Death Korps are one of the most interesting groups in science fiction.  Motivated by shame, they represent the worst humanity could ever become.  However, they are utter badasses in battle.  If you aren’t afraid to die, you can pull of some pretty heroic things.  If you have any questions, comments, criticisms, concerns, requests, or want me to continue this story, please tell me!  Have a great day!

It should be noted, of course, I do not own any of these characters.  Vir and Kril belong to starr-fall-knight-rise, Cain belongs to Games Workshop, and Solo belongs to Disney.

[iamthekaijuking]

Some guardian society biotech

I thought I’d write up some biotech, specifically vehicles. Props to my best bud @dappercritter for coming up with names for all these, save for the Lithodon, which was thought up by discord user Lavabender.

English name: Centirail

The primary method of transportation for non-guardians, these biotechs perform a role much like those of trains on earth. Centirail are made up of two different biotechs, which are actually just opposite phenotypes of each other. The leading car and the passenger car. Passenger cars are hollow and have many resting places for citizens and have sphincter doors for people to come and go. Leading cars act as directors and brains and are attached at the front and ends of a Centirail collection. They tell the whole colony where to go. They also have a compartment for a technician to reside, who keeps an eye on the vitals of the colony and makes sure the leading car’s mental map is up to date via panels. All cars can link up and share a duel parallel nervous system, and sphincter doors on the fronts and backs allow for travel between cars. They run on blunt centipede-like legs from stop to stop through designated tunnels protected by plasma forcefields. An electrical current runs through the ground they swiftly scuttle on, and feeds them. The subway tubes they run through are everywhere in the guardian society.

English name: Shuttler

The Shuttler is a planetary exploration type biotech. Roughly the length of a bus, it walks on six legs. Each leg is tipped with primary claws, traction denticles on the underside, and hyperextended fingers with sickle claws for gripping. They can be outfitted with wheel zooids as well. The cockpit is an organ called a Rose Ganglia, which is what all piloted biotech have. The Rose Ganglia is a highly damage resistant organ that opens up to reveal a bed of tendrils. These secure a pilot in place and link up with their nervous system, thus allowing the biotech to be controlled. Multiple eyes along the Shuttler allows for 360 degree vision. A sphincter door with a tongue ramp leads to an airlock/decontamination chamber, which then leads to the insides. Inside is a main compartment that can be outfitted with materials and biotech an expedition crew needs, which leads to a bathroom for hygiene and toiletries (waste is consumed by the biotech), the cockpit, and the rear compartment storage shell.

English name: Excabrach

The excabrach is a construction type biotech that works much like earth excavators. It crawls along on two scaled muscle beds similar to gastropod feet and has one or multiple Rose Ganglia in the back. The front of the Excabrach has two large compound eyes and a large arm for excavation. Unlike the excavators of earth with their inefficient two arm joints, the arm of an Excabrach has a vertebrae-like internal skeleton powered by both normal and hydraulic muscles, giving it immense power and flexibility. Most Excabraches have a maw at the end of the arm for scooping up substrate with small legs inside to direct ruble into a gular pouch running along the underside of the arm to increase loads, which can be ejected. Body parts are modular and can be swapped out, and many models exist. From small models much like compact excavators, to absolute behemoths surpassing bucket wheel excavators such as badger 258 that require multiple pilots.

English name: Lithodon

More robust but less precise than Excabraches, the Lithodon is an excavation unit that shovels and plows substrate with its massive biomineralized maw. The Lithodon resembles a massive frog with erect limbs and a massive underbite. A Rose Ganglia sits on the hips, and toothy spinning zooids as tough as diamond line the tip/leading edge of the mandibles to drill away at tougher materials and direct substrate into its maw. It shovels detritus with its clawed hands out of the way and scoops several tons of substrate into its mouth and gular pouch that takes up half of its body. Ventral Pleats allows the skin to stretch. Like with the Excabrach, many models of various sizes exist.

[noblesixjm04]

The Flood

Pairing: N/A

Reader type: Gender Neutral

Characters: John-117. Fedric-104. Linda-087. Kelly-058. Y/n.

Song: Diamond walls-The people's thieves.

Warnings:

An: Idk what this is lol. And I apologize ahead of time for any errors. I may have mixed up a few of their call numbers lol but I'm doing this on my phone and don't feel like trying to fix it. Regardless I hope y'all enjoy!

Everything happened at once. The OutPost losing power. A Covenant dropship crash landing not even a mile away.

The screaming. The yelling. Gunpowder hanging thickly in the air. Plasma scorched the walls and bodies littered the floors.

Then the infection. The flood. It took everyone. Man and Covenant. They screamed. Cried. Called out for help. Still it echoed in your ears. The acidic stench etched into your clothes.

You could still hear them just outside the doors. See them in front of the large windows. They knew you were in here

You had locked your self in the decontamination hall. Sat yourself in the middle of the thin hallway. Every so often and infected scientist or staff personal would pass by the windows. Smack their hands against the glass or the now useless controls.

They would do this. Find it futile then join the ever growing group of infected by the doors.

You swore they were made of the stuff from nightmares. Covered in growths and plant like foliage. It pulled at their skin. Turned them different hues of green and grey. Still draped in whatever clothes they were wearing. Thier dull eyes bore into you. Watch you.

Waiting.

They still had basic cognitive function. Every so often they would fire guns. Open doors that didn't require power.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw one pressing buttons on the keypads. It would do nothing. You know this. But t didn't stop the panic. The gut wrenching fear.

If there was still power there was a chance you would have lost your life. Worse yet, become one of them.

Every so often one of the small ones would crawl along the window. Looking for any kind of crack to squeeze through. Pushing at seems. Trying to find thier way to you.

.

Three days. Three days you've been in this room. Pacing. Thinking. Watching them. Waiting and listening to the wet noises they made. The growling and shuffling. You run your hand over your face. Pull at your hair.

You were going insane. Driven mad as you saw nothing but them. No food or water either. God you were hungry. Dying of thirst.

You eye your pistol lying on the floor. Everyone had one. It was issued the moment you stepped foot on the OutPost. You walk to it. Grab it. Eject the clip.

A singular bullet. Silver in color. The rest of the chamber had been emptied on them. The infected.

It was all you needed in hindsight.

.

Day four had you screaming. Yelling. Grieved with anger at everything they took.

You cursed every god you could think of for letting this happen. Letting everyone get hurt and fall in a manner worse than death.

For letting you be in this alone.

.

On day five you begin to wonder if the sos made it. You were there when it sent out only to have the power cut out moments later.

You lay on your back. Head swimming even in your prone position. Your body hurt. Muscles cramping.

The shooting began again. Bursting then stoping. Bursting again.

You close your eyes. Press your palms to the cool floor. The pistol was heavy on your chest.

Something smacked the window rapidly. There was no energy in you to even look.

The smacking began again. This time less rapid. More of a pattern.

Tap tap. Pause. Tap tap. Pause. Tap tap.

With great effort you lifted your head. Opened your eyes. A blurry grey figure stood behind the window.

You sat up quickly. Regretting it the moment pain swam your head and your eyes blurred and tunneled.

You rush to the window staggering on your feet.

A Spartan stood on the other side. The flood laying dead around them.

Her. The numbers 087 on her chest.

You press you palm to the dirty glass. Tap the pattern she was making.

She responds back.

Something floods over you. Relief? Gratitude? Who knows.

She points to either side of you. Motioning to the doors. You shake your head. Pain racketing through as you do.

'Locked' You finger spell praying for that she gets it. She nods her head. Jack's a shell into her gun.

Your stomach drops when she leaves. Twists and turns. You want to cry but having nothing to cry with.

The shooting begins again.

It's brief. Then the tapping on the right door. You run to it. Answer back. Barely able to see though the grim on the window. A blur of green.

Something hits the door. Hard. You find yourself scrambling back as far as you could. Pressing your back to the large window.

You jump and jerk when the door flies back. Clattering against the ground. A green Spartan. A towering giant of a man. Then 087 behind him.

The Spartans file in one after the other. 087 going to the other door. Another grey Spartan staying at the open door. Gun pointing out for anything that moves.

The other two come to you.

117 and 058.

"Are you injured?" 117 asks.

Holy shit. You shake your head no. Your heart flip flops. Both from actually being rescued and.

"You're the Master Chief." You cough around the words. Voice hoarse and harsh. Your throat dry and lips dry and cracking.

You could hear some chuckling from the others.

"Here. You're dehydrated." You snort. Accept what you could only call a flask from his green hand.

You drink greedily from it. 058 stops you.

"Careful." She tells you. "You'll throw it up if you drink to much at once." At her prompting you drink much slower.

"We need to move Chief. They're coming in faster than we thought." The Spartan from the door announced. Chief nods his head. Looks to you.

"Can you walk?" You nod your head. Drink the last of the water. He tilts his head. "How long have you been here?" You shrug.

"Since the start of all this? I kinda lost track of time. There's no clock or anything like that." He nods his head. Points at your pistol.

"You're going to need that." You pick it up.

"There's only one bullet left." He says nothing at that. Hands you another clip for the gun.

They file out one after the other then form a half circle in front of you as you walk down the halls.

You feel sick at every body you pass. Recognizing friends and other staff. You can't help but glance behind you every so often. Your entire body on edge even with four Spartans around you.

104 glanced back at you. Looks to Chief before pulling back. The group forms a circle around you with 104 behind you.

"We won't let anything get to you." He rumbled it out. Low and quiet. It might as well echoed in the halls. As silent as it is.

"Thank you." It comes out a whisper. As much as you are grateful to be out of that small hallway your terrified. Not about what's to come. But of them. You've seen what the Flood could do.

You wanted no part of it.

The group goes left. Curves around the corner. Guns raised and ready for whatever is there.

You grip the handle of you gun tightly. Trying to use it to ground yourself for your incoming panic. Every inch of your body just want to bolt. To run. To get out of there.

They round another corner. Right this time. You glance around. Find the large A2-B3 painted on the wall. You want to speak. Want to tell them that if they go left instead it would take them to the path the mechanics use. Narrow pathways out of the way of the regular Hussle and bussle.

A quick way out of here.

You swallow thickly. Feel cold dread draped over you as you see the pathway they are taking is blocked off. Rubble from the upper stories jamming the hallway.

"Now what?" 104 asks. "The flood overtook the rooms we came from." He motions to you. "We can't take them that way. Not safely." Your ears burn.

"We. We can take the access tunnels?" It came out more of a question. You want the ground to swallow you whole when they all look at you.

You were never good with being the center of attention. It's why you took the custodial job here. No one really noticed you. Not when it matters anyways.

Its probably what saved you life in the end. No one cares enough to try to use you as a shield. Use you as a blocking point.

"The access tunnels?" Chief asks. You Joe you head. Point a shaking hand back down the hall you came from.

"Ya. The mechanics here used them so they can stay out of everyone's way. It also made it easier to get to places quickly when something goes wrong." You shift on your feet. "It also has more than one way out of here."

The group looks at one another. Talking probably. Without you listening. You take the time to look around. Take in the decimated place you had called home for the past 5 years.

"Can you bring us there?" Chief asks. You swallow. Nod your head.

"Uhh. Ya. I can. " He comes up to you. Pushes against your shoulders.

"Show us." And then. "We'll keep you safe." You walk in front of the group. Chief and 104 directly behind you. 087 and 058 on either side of you.

You come to the door. Point.

"There it is. If I remember right, Dave said all someone had to do was follow the green arrows. Something about it being easier to mark the way out that teach everyone."

He had been right in a sense. Since coming here it had been drilled into everyone's head to follow the green arrows. Safety. It meant. The job everyone had here was vital. But not In a way one would think.

This place ment supplies. Materials for the UNSC. The Covenant we're desperate for it.

.

.

It wasn't long until the quiet broke. In a single file all of you walked in the tunnles.

The Spartans heads just skimmed the roof. Shoulders brushing along the walls. If something were to happen here it wouldn't take much for it to all go wrong.

You prayed for a quick and easy escape.

058 told you that there was a group of people outside. Keeping the Flood from getting out but getting survivors to safety.

"Was there anyone else?" You had asked her. You throat burning as you breathed in the dusty air of the pathway. They had all paused. Said nothing. Eventually Chief spoke.

"No. Only you." You had only let out a quiet. Oh. 104 had put his hand on your shoulder. Guilt ate you. You could have saved someone. Could have pulled them into the decontamination hall with you. Kept them save.

But you just had to be a coward and run. Run and hide.

.

.

.

Not much farther now. You could actually hear other people talking. The rumble of engines.

The crashing of a vent grate.

Your ears ring when they fire thier guns. You want to scream when you see one of them. The little small Flood that you watched infected you friends.

One landed on your shoulder. A grey hand reached out. Grabbed it. Smacked it into the wall.

Next you knew you were being lifted. Set onto the back of one of the Spartans.

"Kelly! Move! Get them out of here!" And then she was bounding. The walls became a blur as you tried your best to be as small as you could. Griping tightly around her shoulders so you wouldn't fall off.

Every so often she would fire her gun. You could hear the others behind you.

Keeping you safe.

They promised.

And they did.

You felt the warmth of the sun hit your back. Heat through your clothes and warm your skin.

Cool air brushed your cheeks.

She set you down. A medic pulled you to the side. Checked you over. All the while you watched the door you came though.

Come back. Please come back.

.

.

You were sitting one the back of a Worthog when you saw them. Towering guardians watching over everyone.

You slide off the vehicle. Make your way towards them. Marines and others alike part as you do.

You tap 104's arm. They look to you and you feel your face warm.

"Thank you." You tell them. They say nothing. Nod. Go back to conversing amongst each other.

It feels off when they do so and you chalk it up to a Spartan thing. You just hope they truly know just how much you meant it.

[theatomsinme]

Things in my engineering labs

That just make sense

The wooden board behind the metal rolling mill to stop pieces that shoot out from hitting others in the lab

A coil of giant ventilation duct hose that no one really knows how to work or where it vents to

The industrial pipes from when this was a T.I factory adding to the serious and occasionally depressing atmosphere.

The semiconductor lab with orange windows and special lighting to prevent damaging the electronics.

The decontamination room to get into the semiconductor lab that also fufils the dreams of pretending to be a contagious disease expert.

A few plants here and there to remind us what the outside world looks like (themost popular ones being cast iron plants is TOTALLY a coincidence)

The bioengineering lab being located in the most remote corner of the building with 8 different hazard warnings about contagious doseases and cancer warnings that need 3 levels of authorization and 2 safety training courses to even get into.

The 24/7 moniter feed of all the materials the department has ever analyzed with a scanning tunneling microscope- also set up to display if someone is using it at that very moment.

The eagle plushy in every room with a hardness testing machine because they don't seem to work otherwise.

The regular 3D printer that works half the time.

The industrial 3D printer that is covered in stickers from every STEM club and organization in the building; it always works but it'll run you $80 a session so make it count.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Double kill? The subtle coded communication between the impostors to tell each other that it's happening, the quick switch from friendliness to panic as two crewmates who thought they were safe together get attacked, maybe a bit of a delay between the kills so that the second person realizes what's happening and that they won't escape... Possibly also some chat between the two newly-killed ghosts as they process what just happened? Take as much or as little of that as you want, I just think that double kills are really entertaining, to watch and possibly to write!

again, i defaulted to the friday night crew! lol

pls feel free to specify if you have a particular person/duo/group in mind for any of your requests :)

...

“Is everyone done with tasks?” asks Brody in the middle of his normal pressing-the-button meeting. “We’ve still got seven people left and the task bar looks pretty full.”

Amidst the chorus of “I’m done”, Endless speaks up: “I’ve got one left. And I don’t wanna do it.”

“Why?” Brody demands.

“Because it’s in specimen and I’m scared of that place. It freaks me out.”

“I’ll come with you,” Astro offers. “My last task is in specimen so I’ll come along with you.”

“Uh… Are you safe?”

“I’ve already cleared Astro,” says Tango. “I couldn’t get on the med scan when he was on it, so he’s definitely safe.”

“Oh.” Endless nods. “Then yes please, Astro. I just need to get through Simon Says and then I’m done.”

“No problem.”

At the end of the meeting, Astro and Endless head down and go into the decontamination room. Endless looks nervous, so Astro reaches out and squeezes his hand. “I’m here, buddy.”

“Thanks,” says Endless gratefully. “Sorry, I’m not usually this nervous. Specimen freaks me out.”

“It’s a really unique room in that it’s accessible from two different parts of the map but you have to go through decontamination both times and the tunnels are so long. When you kill in here, you either get caught right away or the body never gets found.”

Endless shivers. “Great… Thanks for reminding me.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Astro chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep watch while I’m doing my task. If anyone comes in, I’ll make sure they go for me first.”

“I appreciate that. Thanks.”

Astro steps back and lets Endless go up to his task, before going to his own. As he does, he keeps an eye on both entrances, making sure that nobody sneaks in undetected.

Movement catches his eye and he glances sharply to the left, but he relaxes when he sees two people enter. He still feels safe. So he goes back to his task.

However, just as his task is finishing, he hears a scream and whirls round to find Impulse pulling a knife out of a collapsing Endless’s chest.

Astro’s heart freezes and he starts towards his friend. “Endless!”

But before he can reach Endless, he feels a sharp pain in his back and he falls forward, trying uselessly to fight against the darkness threatening to overwhelm him.

The last thing he’s aware of before he slips away is a hoarse voice croaking his name.

Seconds later, Astro sits up, pressing a transparent hand against his transparent head. “Oh man…”

“Oh my gosh!” gasps Endless’s voice. “Astro, they got you too?!”

Astro glances over to find Endless’s ghost sitting near his body. “Yeah, we got double-killed. I’m so sorry, Endless. I saw two people come in but I didn’t expect they were both it.”

Endless lets out a sad sigh. “It’s not your fault. Thanks for coming with me anyway.”

After a moment, Astro floats over to Endless and gives him a hug. “No problem. I’ll stay right here while you do your task.”

“Thanks, man.”

Astro steps back and watches over Endless as the latter continues with Simon Says. There isn’t much point, Astro knows; they can’t be harmed anymore. But fondness for Endless, coupled with a deep sense of guilt that he couldn’t protect his friend, keeps him there.

“There we go, finally done,” says Endless. “I hate Simon Says. I always get interrupted one way or another.”

“Me too.” Astro glances around the room. “So Impulse got you. Was it Skizz who got me?”

Endless nods. “Yeah, I think so. They only need one more kill and then they win.”

The two of them pause for a moment, glancing around the room.

Then Astro smiles. “Wanna go haunt the hell out of them?”

“I really, really do.”