It's getting dark, too dark to see.
Who: Solid Snake, Ocelot, Liquid Snake
When: 9/25, After dark
Where: Sector 11
Summary: Missing persons and stalkers. Violence is always a good way to start building trust, right?
Warnings: A bit of violence, probably a bit of harsh language.
It had been days since Big Boss disappeared, and Snake was still looking. He had always been the stubborn type, but it wasn't like Snake to beat a dead horse. So why couldn't he seem to accept that Big Boss was really gone for good? Worse, there's a sense of helpless, undefinable frustration with the man for disappearing. Abandoning his responsibilities, especially after that speech the other day about putting one's men before themselves. (and whether Snake himself was counted in that was beside the point.) Big Boss, or the man who had been here, John. How much of him, the hero or the madman, would Snake have recognized? Now, it seems, he'd never know. It should probably be a relief. Annoyingly, it isn't.
Snake had opted not to take the motorbike today, (a man nearly identical to Big Boss, riding around on his motorcycle. One could see how it might be a little confusing to those they'd enlisted to help with the search,) and was traveling on foot, having turned back a while ago so he could head back to base before it got too dark. At least, that had been the plan. Sirens had gone off half an hour ago. Regardless, he made his way slowly back to Outer Heaven, or what was left of it after its lynchpin had been removed. Strange that he should care so much about salvaging the namesake of an institution he had toppled himself. Strange that, although his contact with Big Boss in the city had been brief and terse, he should feel his absence so keenly. ("...Come find me when you're ready." He'd said. And now he couldn't find him at all.)
At first it wasn't too difficult to dodge the things in the Darkness. The ones he came across in the beginning were slow or single-minded enough that he could slip away unnoticed. Stealth had always been a specialty of his. But the closer he got to home, the closer they got to him, as if seeking him out, and more than once he was forced to work out his frustrations on those creatures that ventured too close. (And it's sort of a relief to do so. One might wonder if he ran late coming home on purpose, but he's smart enough not to risk his life unnecessarily, isn't he? He has responsibilities of his own.) And the more he got the feeling that he was being followed, like they were zeroing in on his location.
One can only get lucky for so long. It was only a matter of time before Snake was caught, outnumbered and surrounded in a rundown alley not too far from home, and didn't that just figure. His escape route cut off on both sides, he dodged as a pair of the monsters lunged at him, but they were fast, unnaturally so, and he felt the sharp claws catch at his skin as they flew past. Spinning, he leveled his gun at one of the things and fired. One down, and more on the way.
Snake heard movement to his left and knelt, grabbing an old, rusty pipe from the debris on the ground and swinging it up toward the nearest creature. (On site procurement indeed. Otacon would be proud. Just like one of his Japanese horror games.) Two down, and if only he could get out of here. He was trapped in such a confined space. If he could just clear a path before he ran out of bullets, he could escape.
When: 9/25, After dark
Where: Sector 11
Summary: Missing persons and stalkers. Violence is always a good way to start building trust, right?
Warnings: A bit of violence, probably a bit of harsh language.
It had been days since Big Boss disappeared, and Snake was still looking. He had always been the stubborn type, but it wasn't like Snake to beat a dead horse. So why couldn't he seem to accept that Big Boss was really gone for good? Worse, there's a sense of helpless, undefinable frustration with the man for disappearing. Abandoning his responsibilities, especially after that speech the other day about putting one's men before themselves. (and whether Snake himself was counted in that was beside the point.) Big Boss, or the man who had been here, John. How much of him, the hero or the madman, would Snake have recognized? Now, it seems, he'd never know. It should probably be a relief. Annoyingly, it isn't.
Snake had opted not to take the motorbike today, (a man nearly identical to Big Boss, riding around on his motorcycle. One could see how it might be a little confusing to those they'd enlisted to help with the search,) and was traveling on foot, having turned back a while ago so he could head back to base before it got too dark. At least, that had been the plan. Sirens had gone off half an hour ago. Regardless, he made his way slowly back to Outer Heaven, or what was left of it after its lynchpin had been removed. Strange that he should care so much about salvaging the namesake of an institution he had toppled himself. Strange that, although his contact with Big Boss in the city had been brief and terse, he should feel his absence so keenly. ("...Come find me when you're ready." He'd said. And now he couldn't find him at all.)
At first it wasn't too difficult to dodge the things in the Darkness. The ones he came across in the beginning were slow or single-minded enough that he could slip away unnoticed. Stealth had always been a specialty of his. But the closer he got to home, the closer they got to him, as if seeking him out, and more than once he was forced to work out his frustrations on those creatures that ventured too close. (And it's sort of a relief to do so. One might wonder if he ran late coming home on purpose, but he's smart enough not to risk his life unnecessarily, isn't he? He has responsibilities of his own.) And the more he got the feeling that he was being followed, like they were zeroing in on his location.
One can only get lucky for so long. It was only a matter of time before Snake was caught, outnumbered and surrounded in a rundown alley not too far from home, and didn't that just figure. His escape route cut off on both sides, he dodged as a pair of the monsters lunged at him, but they were fast, unnaturally so, and he felt the sharp claws catch at his skin as they flew past. Spinning, he leveled his gun at one of the things and fired. One down, and more on the way.
Snake heard movement to his left and knelt, grabbing an old, rusty pipe from the debris on the ground and swinging it up toward the nearest creature. (On site procurement indeed. Otacon would be proud. Just like one of his Japanese horror games.) Two down, and if only he could get out of here. He was trapped in such a confined space. If he could just clear a path before he ran out of bullets, he could escape.