#halo of ashes

[spilladabalia]

Screaming Trees & Josh Homme - Halo of Ashes - 11/30/96

[yourlocalabomination]

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.

[amimuu]

to the disciples:

how do y’all feel abt narinder?

In reality they all hate his guts. With reason

[doom-dreaming]

take my humble offering of various low-quality halo character textpost memes

Ferrets under the cut

and as a gift for @poisonheadcrabsalesman

[magellanicclouds]

Personal Journal (Theodore Srivastava, MBBS-MD) / Entry 0864 / 2559-10

>>: The recovered individuals had required extensive medical care on arrival, and a battery of diagnostic testing to understand their biology enough to successfully deliver treatment and establish a safe continuity. Commander Mallah had offered to loan me a few techs from the Xeno lab for consultation. For humans.

Their rate of healing has been extraordinary however, and there's blessedly no signs of preliminary rejection to organ tissue, structural implantation, or soft tissue grafts. Primarily just scattered ecchymosis for two out of the three. It's remarkable. Examination is on-going, several rounds daily, and expected to continue for a series of weeks to establish more reliable trends.

They'll be with us for the duration of course.

There's nowhere else to go.

We've learned that the individuals represent a third generation of Spartans, and their...atypical lab results have been casting long shadows to say the least. More of the UNSC's deeply forbidden secrets are filling our charts in waves and creating a lot of unease regarding this sub-category's uniquely dangerous mutagenic traits. These features are remarkable for organic changes in their brain tissue and gross manipulation of the endocrine system. Even considering the total divorce of human ethics that the Spartan programme already represents, this seems a startling escalation.

What is happening back home to have prompted such a chilling devaluation of human life?

The discomfort amongst my staff is overwhelming their fascination.

It's not yet clear if the Spirit's limited facilities can even maintain the critical needs of these new and terrifying soldiers. What is the margin for error on the consistency of their 'smoother' dosages? How short exactly is the fuse on their hormonal detonators? Could a scuffle in the mess hall lead to a massacre?

They're bracingly young, but noticeably removed from the common traces of youth. The scars between them are enough to trade away for decades of warfare.

Myself and other providers have found their temperament similar to the Spartans of Red Team at least. Polite. Professional. Human certainly, though most of my staff have remarked negatively on their atonal general expression and significant lack in sense of social familiarity.

Truthfully, after the hell they'd undertaken groundside (and surely horrors years before now), I find it callous to hold 'being withdrawn' against them. They do not shy from eye contact, and when one looks back with not the eyes of a provider, but the eyes of a man, it is clear that these Spartans too know fear and sadness and heartbreak.<< //

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

For @magellanicclouds - I wish it was happier but I am still thinking about the Gammas on that ship after being undercover for so long.

-

As soon as they're well enough to do so, the Gammas start patrolling.

The impulse is instinct beaten into them. Establish a basecamp and then monitor it and its surroundings. Two go and one stays with Mom. She nods and lets them because recon is important and just because ONI isn't on the Spirit of Fire doesn't mean they're safe. Someone is always watching.

The captain. The AI. The medical team. The IIs.

Red team may be apologetic about the circumstances they met under but IIIs don't do manners. Or socialization. It's why during a scouting trip past the onboard gym they heard themselves described as "feral".

At least you could count on marines to be too dumb to be anything but loose lipped and honest.

Years undercover aren't undone overnight. The tangled strands of who they were then and who they are now can never be the same. Some strings are cut to survive. Some parts lost. Habits that kept them alive are viewed as nervous tics and hypervigilance by people who had the luxury of sleeping through the worst of the war.

Maybe that's unfair, but so is their existence. The Gammas are the most volatile of the IIIs. They can never forget it. Revealing their need for smoothers meant handing over their leash. The need for a chemical tether never bothered them so much as the supplier. Nothing is ever certain but the mission. The mission's over now. Everything is uncertain and without each other to ground them, the Gammas would be lost.

Ash thinks of Onyx and Kurt. He thinks of being a leader and what sacrifices are necessary.

He listens to his brother struggle to breathe and wake up choking in the night. He holds Mark closer these days. He hears the sacrifice in his slower words and sees it in his far-away look.

"Exitus Acta Probat" - the ship's motto haunts his thoughts. Exploring yet another colony ship retrofitted for war should stir something in him, but Ash is tired. They're all so tired. Livi had gathered information on one of her patrols and then she had returned to their quarters and slept. And slept. Exitus Acta Probat: the end justifies the means. But what is the end? And where is the limit?

Ash doesn't know, but he'll lead his team as long as he draws breath. He makes Mark lean on him on the way back from patrol, shouldering his brother's weight with his head still on a swivel.

Eyes on them. Rescuers and witnesses to the means. In the end the mission was a success. Intrepid Eye was no more. The Keepers failed. Life goes on, for most.

A young man tucks his family in and then sleep takes him. He dreams of caves and phantoms and the sight of Mark still in the water.

Tomorrow he will get up and walk the ship again. There is no end, only the means and the ever growing middle.

[empresskadia]

I choose to believe that the Spartan IIs and IIIs are not used to normal acts of domesticity outside of the military. If you made them dinner, they would be absolutely blown away by the quality simply because they're so used to MREs.

For them, it was the best meal of their life. For you, it was lasagna day.

I love this and I fully agree. Very few of them recall home-made meals as children but it’s a very distance memory, Fred happens to be one of them. Like certain smells will click that memory in his head but he can never fully grasp it. Kelly teases him about it and tries to figure out what food he’s talking about but they can never put two and two together. It happens to be Blue Team’s greatest mystery they can’t solve.

But you make them food after they come back from a mission, and they are shocked. For Spartans, being cared for is alien to them, so they happen to be touched by this gesture. John and Kelly cannot sit together cause they will try to steal each other food, Kelly’s worse about this and you have to call her out cause she will try with Fred and Linda [who just about stabs Kelly’s hand with her fork.] when they aren’t looking. John will swipe a bite from Fred’s and Fred pretends not to see. For whatever reason when you make food for them, hell breaks loose and they will fight, Linda always ends up winning.

If you ever did this with the Ferrets, they get so quiet and kinda of just stare at the meal waiting for a trick question. Like why would you do this? All three of them are quiet while eating, but Ash is the one who asks if they’re allowed to have seconds and his eyes brighten when you say yes. Olivia gets a core memory unlocked and ends up sharing it at the table when Mark asks if she’s okay. They are seriously moved by this gesture and don’t know how to react but you’ll notice they go out of their way to stop by and say hello between missions. Mark ended up coming to you for advice once and continues to do so, he enjoys helping you in the kitchen too.

[halobirthdays]

Happy birthday to Spartan Ash-G099!

Today is his -515th birthday!

Ash was orphaned during the Human-Covenant war after the Covenant glassed his home planet of Alluvion. He was recruited by ONI into the SPARTAN-III program, and began his training under Kurt Ambrose on the shield world Onyx. Ash was assigned to Gamma Company and the leader of Team Saber, which became one of the Spartan-III's best fireteams. After the devastating losses in Alpha Company, Ambrose decided to do things differently with the Gammas. Determined not to suffer the same losses, he secretly had the Gammas treated with a cocktail of illegal performance-enhancing drugs. While this made the Gammas faster and stronger, it also made them more mentally unstable. The Gammas, including Ash, required the use of "smoothers", drugs which would counteract the mental imbalance.

After the first activation of the Halo array, Sentinels on Onyx entered a standby state. When the Sentinels reactivated, they approached Ash. When Ash was unable to satisfactorily prove that he was a "Reclaimer", the Sentinels became hostile.

At the same time, Fleet Master Voro Nar 'Mantakree began his assault on Onyx. Team Saber was joined by Spartan-II Blue Team who helped stage a defense against the assault. Two of Saber's members, Dante and Holly, died during the assault. After 'Mantakree's fleet was destroyed, Ash and the surviving members of Team Saber remained attached to Blue Team.

Blue Team was deployed to Gao to investigate the presence of a Foreunner ancilla. The ancilla was attempting to brew tension between the already-distrustful Gaos and the UNSC by killing Gao citizens, who suspected the UNSC of the murders. Gao Special Inspector Veta Lopis was sent to investigate the murders, accompanied by Blue Team. Like the other Gaos, she suspected the UNSC of the murders, and in particular, Gamma member Mark-G313.

When the truth about the ancilla Intrepid Eye was revealed and the Gao government turned on Lopis, she dropped her suspicions and joined forces with the UNSC. However, ONI was concerned with the risk the Gammas presented when they did not have a steady supply of smoothers. To keep them out of the public eye, the Gammas were trained to be part of an ONI operative team called the Ferrets with Veta Lopis as their leader.

The Ferrets went into deep cover within the Keepers of the One Freedom--a Covenant splinter group--posing as Lopis' children. Through this, they were able to follow the Keepers to the Ark. There, they learned that the Keepers intended on using the Ark to fire the Halo array with the help of San’Shyuum Prelate Dhas Bhasvod. The Ferrets broke cover to stop them, with Lopis allowing herself to he captured with the intention of guiding the UNSC to initiate an orbital bombardment to prevent the Halo arrays from firing. Mark, who began to unravel due to a prolonged period without his smoothers, suffered significant injuries by the time the Ferrets were rescued by Red Team. As they retreated, Mark was killed by Bhasvod. The Ferrets joined the crew of the UNSC Spirit of Fire, who held a funeral in his honor. Ash was deeply shaken by the loss of his teammate, believing himself responsible for Mark's death.

In canon (~2560), he is turning 21!

[luci-muller]

a bunch of tumbnails i did for a client

[halowishes]

banana fish review!

this show is “start here” by caitlyn siehl animated.

(spoilers ahead!)

first things first: the animation was amazing! everyone act surprised! i haven’t been to new york in god knows how long but i think it captured a lot of its charm and not so charming parts well. i thought the pacing was pretty good. definitely got kinda slow at times, but with the heavy content, the tempo helped ease the story. every character was well fleshed out, the plot was complex and entertaining, and deeply thoughtful. (bring back 24 episode seasons!)

now i’m really gonna go on a tangent here: ASH LYNX. what a character. obviously a very tragic end, but one that i think he’s satisfied with. everything about his story is tragic really. he wasn’t made for the world he was forced into. he wasn’t a beast, a leopard, or a peacock— he was a boy who wanted to survive. he was soft and kind and tender, but he needed to prove his value in a dangerous world.

it hurts the most when ash talks about eiji. how he wanted something real, someone who only wanted his company and nothing else. how ash could barely stand who he’d become, but he would do it all for eiji. and while everyone feared him, he found a peer who was innocent and curious and wanted to protect him and not be protected.

it hurts because he’d rather love and die than hate and rule. how at the end of it all, ash would’ve gone with eiji. but instead of fighting again, he went back into the library to finish reading his letter. (because he believed deep down, he didn’t deserve eiji.)

but eiji is so unique. stupidly brave at times, entirely earnest, and tries his very best to understand ash. when ash said he needs him because he has everything he doesn��t… that one hurt. he doesn’t exist for ash’s salvation, but eiji wouldn’t mind it either.

also wanna say how sick and twisted it is they compare ash to a peacock. all feathers, beautiful, but can’t fly well. and what made him so enamored by eiji? he saw him fly.

this show really twists the heart strings! i can see why it has such a loyal fan base. long live yearning and soulmates!!!

banana fish- 9.5/10

ash and eiji: there is no me without you.

[orb-simp]

[whotookmytomato]

Veta: I thought I had seen a lot of destruction in my life but nothing prepared me for when the Spartans were given a ball to play with indoors

[dougielombax]

Same energy.

…

In my mind….

[she-bear18]

Random Freta fanfic

Veta Lopis x Fred-104

Okay, first of all, ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I accept constructive criticism, but pls be kind :)

Secondly, this is my first time writing a Halo fanfiction, more specifically a Veta x Fred fanfic. There aren't enough of them out there, so I have to take the matter in my own hands !!

Thirdly, this is SHIT, no thoughts, no plot, warned you lol

MESSAGE 

Veta was still getting used to this new lifestyle. Missions back to back, little to no rest and endless paperwork. Sometimes, she longed for home back on Gao, her tiny appartment, her lovely neighbours, her remaining family...She wondered what happened to them, do they miss her ? Is her little cousin Arnie still hoping to become an investigator like her ? Does aunt Pattie still bake her famous pumpkin pie ? So many questions, no answers.  She shook her head refusing to dwell on the past, she had a report to write down, and Baby Dragon  wasn’t a very patient woman.  

She was seated in a room on a prowler (whose name she forgot as soon as her feet landed on the deck) that ONI kindly lent to her. It was small and dusty, its grey walls were tinted with some kind of whitish product that smelled like paint. There were only a desk and a chair in it, which was more than enough for Veta to write her report.  

Her ferrets were down the corridor organizing their gear and getting ready for their next assignement. A little smile crept on her lips at the thought of them. She grew pretty close to Ash and Olivia, bonding over some of their “non-classified” stories (which she found pretty terrifying considering their age). Mark was an another story. He was still very wary of her, and did’nt seem to accept her as a part of the team. Less than a few months ago, she suspected him to be a serial killer, so she understoood his reluctance towards her, but she hoped things would change for the sake of the team’s dynamic. 

She was chewing on the bottom of her pen, deep in thoughts, when her mind wandered on Blue Team. Several of her past missions involved both her Ferrets and Blue Team, it was always an honor to work alongside them.  

She continued to tap her report on her borrowed laptop when Fred’s face suddenly popped in her mind. She blushed, they grew pretty close during their short time together.    

She dared to say she missed him.   

This wasn’t an inappropriate thought...was it ? He was one of the only constant thing in her life at the moment, except for her Ferrets. They came from different worlds, and very opposite upbringings : she grew up on an insurrectionist planet who longed for its freedom, while Fred is the ultimate representation of the UNSC authority. Never in her life would she have dreamed of becoming friend with a UNSC thug. But there she was, missing him and his dry witted humor, and wondering if he was safe. 

She grabbed her commpad, oppened a private channel and wrote the following message : 

Dear Lieutenant, 

 I sincerely hope that you are having “fun” on your current classified adventure. On my part, the Ferrets are doing good. I was thinking about you lately, I dare to say I miss you.

I've got a lot to tell you, don’t go MIA until then.  

Take care, 

Inspector Lopis 

[doom-dreaming]

High Flakes Combat

“Blue Lead,” Linda’s whisper cuts across TEAMCOM, crisp and several degrees colder than the icy landscape. “Hostiles approaching your position.”

Fred, tucked behind the trunk of a towering pine tree, exhales a slow, measured breath. Waiting. Listening. Without his motion tracker, only the crunch of footsteps in the snow—and Linda—could tell him when their opponents were closing in.

There. Fifteen meters out. He motions to John, positioned behind an adjacent tree. On my signal.

…ten meters…

Cover me. Go high.

…five meters…

John nods. Fred tightens his grip on his weapon.

Now.

As one, they pivot, breaching cover. Fred drops to a knee, attacking swiftly, before their adversary has a chance to retaliate.

The snowball hits Ash directly in the center of his chestplate. Active camouflage flickers briefly, then recalibrates, as the young Spartan crashes dramatically to his knees before sprawling backward, motionless.

Fred doesn’t let the theatrics distract him. The other two had to be nearby and the round wasn’t over until— A snowball whizzes past his head, followed by a sharp curse—out loud, close. He catches a shimmer of white on white as Olivia leaps to find cover and “reload,” but John is faster.

The snowball hits her thigh before she can complete her maneuver and she slides to a dejected halt in a snowbank. “Dammit! Mark!” she calls out. “You’re on your own!”

Fred doesn’t hear a verbal response. He knows he won’t, Mark’s too good to give away his position— Thwap. Fred’s vision goes fuzzy and white as Mark’s snowball connects with his visor, splattering on impact. Fred groans and flashes a red status light across his team’s HUDs. He’d be out until the next round.

“He’s on the move!” Linda barks over the comms.

Fred folds himself cross-legged into the snow and wipes his visor clean just in time to see Kelly bounding over a nearby ridge, clutching a snowball in each fist.

“I’ve got him!” She goes streaking across the snow toward a barely-visible figure—also sprinting.

Mark wouldn’t be able to outrun Kelly—a fact Fred knew the S-III was well aware of—but he was certainly trying his best.

Kelly nails Mark with both snowballs, one in the shoulder, the other in the back. He stumbles just enough that Kelly’s momentum sends her into him at full force. The clack of their colliding armor echoes like a shot as both Spartans go tumbling to the ground, sending up a minor flurry in their wake.

“Aaaaaaaand match!” Roland’s voice rings out over the simulation deck, followed by a buzzer. “Blue Team takes the win!”

“Again,” Olivia grumbles, pushing to her feet and dusting snow off her armor.

“It’s three against four,” Ash reminds her, still lying on his back a few feet from Fred.

Olivia crunches her way over and offers him a hand. “Can we make Kelly sit out the next round?”

“If you’re not having fun, leave,” John quips.

“Or maybe you should switch Kelly to our team and see how it feels,” Livi bites back, helping Ash haul himself to his feet.

“Fighting over me?” Kelly rejoins the group with Mark close behind. “I’m flattered.”

Fred chuckles. It was good to see Olivia trading barbs with John. The Gammas had warmed up to him quickly—and he to them—and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Fred was sure the S-IIIs had given him some new streaks of gray hair, but at the same time, they made him feel younger. He hoped they were having the same effect on John.

“So…” drawls a familiar voice, raised just loud enough to carry, “this is the reason my fireteams can't train today? A snowball fight.”

Every Spartan in the simulated snowscape whips toward the entrance. Commander Palmer stands at the far edge of the scene, arms crossed. She looks odd and out of place, a lone figure in a techsuit against the stark white surroundings, but no less intense than usual.

“Thought we’d try something different from the typical drills, ma’am,” Fred coughs. He’s not sure why he feels guilty; they’d requested the time and blocked out the schedule and followed protocol…even if they hadn’t said precisely what they’d be doing…

Before anyone else has a chance to speak, a snowball goes sailing over Fred’s shoulder, on a collision course for Palmer. She’s too far away to hit, but the aim is dead-accurate and it lands with a wet plap several yards directly in front of her.

Even at this distance, Fred sees her eyes narrow. The vague guilt solidifying in his gut crystallizes into ice. He knows who threw that and he’s already, reflexively, preparing for the necessary damage control—and for Linda, no less. Kelly he was used to, but Linda?

Palmer shifts her weight and fixes the seven of them with a hard stare that lasts long past the point of being uncomfortable. “Don’t go anywhere,” she eventually orders, leveling a finger in their direction. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Without leaving any opportunity for rebuttal, she turns on her heel and swiftly disappears from the deck.

Immediately, Linda’s status light starts blinking rapid-fire green across Blue Team’s HUDs. Kelly follows suit.

“Really?” Fred grumps over TEAMCOM.

“Can you blame her if it worked?” Kelly retorts.

“Yes! You’re making an assumption and setting a bad example.” He switches to his helmet’s speakers. “Gammas, don’t throw things at your commanding officers.”

“Unless you’re sleeping with them,” Kelly adds, with enough tact to keep the comment on Blue Team’s private channel.

Another green light from Linda.

Fred willfully ignores both of them.

“...we’re not in trouble, are we?” Ash removes his helmet and shakes out his hair. “To be honest…I don’t know what just happened.”

Kelly seats herself on a tree stump, legs akimbo, smugness oozing from every seam of her armor. “Palmer’s getting suited up to come play with us.”

Ash seems unconvinced but Mark shrugs. “She’ll balance the numbers. We might even start winning.”

Only Blue Team can see—and appreciate—the red light John flashes in silent response.

**********

As threatened, Palmer returns exactly ten minutes later, fully armored aside from the helmet tucked into the crook of her arm. “Okay, here’s the official story.” She strides up to the group. “We’re running an unorthodox but fully sanctioned training exercise all day.”

“I’ve cleared the schedule and put out an open invitation,” Roland chimes in. “As requested.”

Palmer nods her approval. “Figured I’d let you have your fun on the condition that the rest of us could get in on it too.” She raises an eyebrow. “Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Fred answers, echoing the array of green lights on his HUD. “Alright. Ground rules—we’re running blind for this, Commander. No motion trackers.”

She looks pleased. “I like a challenge.”

“If you get hit, you’re out for the round,” he continues. “Once you’re out, you can’t help anyone still standing. Round ends when a whole team goes down.” Fred nods toward the ceiling. “Roland’s keeping score.”

“Huh,” Palmer hums. “So you knew about this, too, Roland?”

“I…was informed the exercise would require a scorekeeper instead of a handler,” the AI answers, somehow managing to achieve the verbal equivalent of tip-toeing. “And I volunteered a mere fraction of my copious attention to the task.”

Palmer just rolls her eyes.

Ash clears his throat and steps forward. “If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am, we’d greatly appreciate it if you joined our team.”

“They’ve been wiping the floor with us,” Olivia adds, somewhat ruefully.

Palmer looks back and forth between Blue Team and the Gammas with a hint of a smirk. “Well.” She slips her helmet on. “Allow me to level the playing field.”

**********

And indeed, the tide began to turn. Quickly. It wasn’t that the Gammas couldn’t hold their own, but Palmer was a different flavor of ruthless and even numbers did make a difference.

Kelly, as Blue Team’s sole survivor, was in the midst of a valiant stand, but she was up against Palmer and Olivia and they were going in for the kill. Up to this point, Kelly had been relying on her speed to evade them, but Fred doubted that would be able to carry her any further.

Palmer and Livi split around the back of the snowbank Kelly had hidden behind, falling into synchronized step with each other, timing their paces perfectly. Palmer’s boots fall heavier and louder, covering Olivia’s near-silent glide around the other side.

The strategy is obvious, at least from Fred’s position of passive observation—Palmer would draw Kelly’s attention, Olivia would come up on her flank and take her out. And it would work, too…on anyone less observant than Kelly. Fred has a feeling she’ll see right through it. But one of them was going to hit her either way, so it didn’t really matter as far as the outcome was concerned.

Surprisingly, a third option presents itself. Fred realizes after a few seconds that he’s been holding his breath, expecting Kelly to explode out of the snow and make a run for it, but…she doesn’t.

Palmer reaches the other side of the snowdrift and slows, confusion evident in her body language. She paces around the area, making sure not to stay still for too long, obviously reluctant to let her guard down completely. Fred can see the hazy mirage of Olivia’s SPI suit still moving in with careful deliberation.

There was no way Kelly could have moved. She hadn’t had enough time. More importantly, she would’ve been spotted if she’d tried to flee, so why couldn’t—

Palmer disappears. One second, she’s standing on the other side of the snowbank, visible from the waist up, and the next second she’s gone. Fred can’t see much of anything, but there are sounds of a scuffle and the blur of camouflaged armor as Livi sweeps in to assist with whatever the hell had just happened.

Barely a breath later, Roland announces the end of the match. “And Gammas-Plus-Palmer emerge victorious! …or should I say Olivia, specifically, seeing as she is the last Spartan standing. You know, you really oughta come up with a better name for your team—”

There’s a burst of indignant exclamations and flustered cursing from Palmer. She reappears only to rip her helmet off and kick some snow back in the direction from which she’d escaped.

Olivia removes her own helmet; Fred is surprised to see her laughing. “She got you good!” There’s a giddiness in her voice that Fred’s never heard before, but she seems to remember who she's talking to a moment later. “...ma’am.”

Kelly pops up beyond the ridge. She remains helmeted but Fred knows there’s a shit-eating grin on her face just from her posture alone.

“What happened?” He shouts the question out loud.

“She buried herself in the fucking snow and pulled my legs out from under me,” Palmer growls as she trudges over.

“And then I hit Kelly point-blank in the face!”

Olivia’s gleeful comment is backed by Kelly’s laughter over TEAMCOM. “Worth it.”

“Hey!” A different voice cuts into the conversation, once again pulling everyone’s attention toward the entrance. “Heard there was some kinda free-for-all goin’ on in here?” Gabriel Thorne stands flanked by the rest of Fireteam Majestic, all in full Mjolnir. “Got room for another team?”

Palmer waves them in. “Come on up, Majestic. We’ll get you briefed on the rules.” She sighs and fits her helmet back on. “Hope you’re ready to get your asses kicked.”

**********

An hour later, after Majestic had carved out a few victories of their own, Crimson shows up. Rules are recounted, home bases are realigned, play resumes. Within another two hours, there are four more Spartan fireteams on the field. Alliances are formed, both openly and secretly. Several hours are devoted to building snow forts. Play evolves. Forts are defended and captured, sabotaged and reinforced.

And then Lasky arrives.

“Captain on deck!” Roland bellows.

The silence that blankets the simulation deck is instantaneous and absolute. Nobody moves. If the snowballs already in flight could have frozen in midair, they probably would’ve. Instead, they land in a chorus of muffled thwumps.

Lasky stands there for a few seconds, small and unimposing by the distant doors, sporting his trademark expression of beleaguered amusement—presumably at being called out. “Don’t stop on my account,” he eventually says. “I just wanted to watch. …unless there’s a team looking for a liability,” he jokes with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Everyone on the field exchanges glances and shrugs. A sea of status lights blink across Fred’s HUD—most amber, some green. Finally, someone from Crimson waves Lasky over. “We’ll take you, Captain!”

He seems genuinely surprised by the invitation, but begins the trek across the snow. “Try not to kill me, alright?”

That draws laughs from most of the Spartans, but it’s John who actually banters back. “No promises, sir.”

[magellanicclouds]

@poisonheadcrabsalesman I love playing in the post-DW 'Gammas-on-the-Spirit' sandbox and little scenes like this keep coming to me. My poor tired ocs never get anything nice. +++ Teddy sighed, exasperated. "Uncoil a little, would you?" He nudged a cup of coffee across the desk toward Ash. It had several cracks across the surface, new and old, all repaired with different adhesives. "I'm not saying you're a rabid dog, I'm just keeping things in perspective." He paused a moment, hoping for a reaction from the Spartan. Something, anything to grab onto in hopes of beginning the painstaking effort of building trust with the young man, but Ash was still. Teddy slumped back into his chair, quietly a bit embarrassed about how far at the edge he'd been perched. He was going about this all wrong, wasn't he? Tired brown eyes wandered over the surface of his battered old mug. "Listen, obviously there's a lot of concerns, and yeah - a lot of them are fearful and biased and people talk, I don't need to tell you that. But I do think I need you to understand that this isn't a field op you can improvise on, and you need somebody to mitigate for you here." "And you would do that?" Teddy shifted before leaning forward onto his forearms. "We live here, Ash. You live here now, your family lives here now. We've been managing, but resources are not infinite. Tell me what happens when we hit limitations and can't synthesize the components for your medications? What is our contingency?"

"What do they do with rabid dogs?"

+++