Sometimes Bahamut doesn't look like a city at war. Today, for instance, the snow is fresh and clean, yet to be churned up by the tread of running boots and the tracks of krawls ( Read more... )

Makita sleeps for nearly sixteen hours before her eyes snap open abruptly. She's in a bed. That isn't right. Her mind casts back, trying to figure out how she got here, but the memory she finds first stops any search for an explanation.

Now she's curled up on the bed, tucked into as small a space as she can manage, whining brokenly.

The light of the rising sun barely kisses the broken buildings of the city of Bahamut as Proto and Makita walk across the snow-covered streets. They pick their way across broken rubble, broken vehicles, and broken bodies in silence ( Read more... )

Makita's breathless laughter proceeds her entrance into the bunker that is the closest thing she has to a home in Bahamut. She glances back over her shoulder to grin up at Proto, "I won, so you have to cook dinner. Really, Proto," she teases, "How are you going to fight off all those Reds if you can't run any faster than that ( Read more... )

The air is crisp without being cold, the sun is bright without being hot, and the grass is greener than it ever was back home. But somehow... somehow this seems like the perfect place to remember papa. The perfect place to love his memory and let it go ( Read more... )

Makita sits in front of the two graves she dug every day. Sometimes it is only for a minute or two, sometimes for hours, but each time she cries ( Read more... )

Makita rarely spent much time in her room. She slept in the bar, where there were people. But the noise which was so often comforting had become a reminder of the life and laughter that had been lost.

Seeing faces she knew had hurt as much as helped, and so she had retreated to her room where she alternates between sleeping and crying numbly.

0:06:14Her father is in a shell of a building. It may once have been an office of some sort, but it's hard to tell. He's lying back on the ground, propped up against the wall, covered in blankets that are slowly turning red. The medic at his side looks up, "Gently, Makita. Gently ( Read more... )

0:19:28Makita's feet take her bounding across the ruins of the city. She doesn't notice the collapsing buildings and the burned out husks of vehicles as anything other than inevitable. Just one of the prices of war, and not the hardest one to pay ( Read more... )

0:26:30
Trust your dropline magnet. It will hold your weight. Still sprinting forward, Makita hits the dropline release on her harness and reaches back to pull the SWORD from her shoulder. The end of the Hydra's barrel arrives and she pours on a final burst of speed and flings herself out into nothing. The line spools out and the catches as ( Read more... )