Out of the frying pan.. (Complete)
Character(s): Ghost.
Content: Ghost stirs.
Setting: An old apartment complex, bordering the Fountain.
Warnings:Foul language? PROBABLY!
One would think waking up in a fridge would be disconcerting...
However, for the man known as Ghost, it was a...Reassuring...situation.
One moment he had been seconds from being smeared across the surface of a burning Bug World by their equivalent of a Goliath Battlemech, and the next he finds himself, somehow, inside of a large metallic rectangle..
Small favors....
The door of the device still moves with some difficulty, and Ghost manages to wriggle his way OUT of the fridge, rusted hinges squealing, after a minute or two of struggle.
He stumbles out and hisses, clutching his right forearm for a moment. Apparently, he had sustained a flesh wound during the fight after all. It was nothing major, though. He had medical supplies with hi-
Wait....Where *WERE* his supplies? He'd had a gunny sack loaded with the tools of his trade. Explosives, remote laser taggers, first aid supplies, food, portable weather shelters....His entire pack had gone missing...Including most of his ammunition.
"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me...."
He grunts and begins patting himself down, searching for the rest of his equipment. Goggles, pistol, rifle, etc.... Well, his main equipment was still present, and he had a few spare rounds for the pistol on hand.
However, the more appropriate question was just where in the HELL was he? A strange red glow seemed to filter in from a small, partially covered window along the side of the room.
He approached the window and leaned forward, somehow expecting it to be the red, volcanic glow of Char's surface.
What he didn't expect was...Well...This. A City. Decaying, decrepit, but definitely Terran. And a sky the color of blood... Below, a fountain draped in moss or lichen....
".....Where...The HELL....am I...?"
Content: Ghost stirs.
Setting: An old apartment complex, bordering the Fountain.
Warnings:Foul language? PROBABLY!
One would think waking up in a fridge would be disconcerting...
However, for the man known as Ghost, it was a...Reassuring...situation.
One moment he had been seconds from being smeared across the surface of a burning Bug World by their equivalent of a Goliath Battlemech, and the next he finds himself, somehow, inside of a large metallic rectangle..
Small favors....
The door of the device still moves with some difficulty, and Ghost manages to wriggle his way OUT of the fridge, rusted hinges squealing, after a minute or two of struggle.
He stumbles out and hisses, clutching his right forearm for a moment. Apparently, he had sustained a flesh wound during the fight after all. It was nothing major, though. He had medical supplies with hi-
Wait....Where *WERE* his supplies? He'd had a gunny sack loaded with the tools of his trade. Explosives, remote laser taggers, first aid supplies, food, portable weather shelters....His entire pack had gone missing...Including most of his ammunition.
"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me...."
He grunts and begins patting himself down, searching for the rest of his equipment. Goggles, pistol, rifle, etc.... Well, his main equipment was still present, and he had a few spare rounds for the pistol on hand.
However, the more appropriate question was just where in the HELL was he? A strange red glow seemed to filter in from a small, partially covered window along the side of the room.
He approached the window and leaned forward, somehow expecting it to be the red, volcanic glow of Char's surface.
What he didn't expect was...Well...This. A City. Decaying, decrepit, but definitely Terran. And a sky the color of blood... Below, a fountain draped in moss or lichen....
".....Where...The HELL....am I...?"