video;
[ derp derp punching buttons and swearing and trying not to be freaked out of his mind ]
--the fucking fuck, I don't need thi-- oh.
[ angrily, ]
This is Private O'Brien, UNSC Destroyer 993. Whatever cocksucker is responsible for all this-- [and he stabs a finger in the general vicinity of behind him] --I've got a bullet with your name on it. I ( Read more... )
--the fucking fuck, I don't need thi-- oh.
[ angrily, ]
This is Private O'Brien, UNSC Destroyer 993. Whatever cocksucker is responsible for all this-- [and he stabs a finger in the general vicinity of behind him] --I've got a bullet with your name on it. I ( Read more... )
Comments 47
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Wait, who the fuck're you.
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--York.
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...just York. [THAT'S USELESS.] Are you a Marine or what.
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[Calm, smug Elite is calm and smug. Despite being in the same boat.]
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No one asked you.
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[Totally. It's not that he finds you hilarious, O'Brien.]
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Afraid shooting things ain't gonna help. You're on Sacrosanct. A UNSC distress beacon has already been been set up. We're out of range. No help is coming.
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What do you mean, no help is coming? There's all kinds of chatter on this network, civilians, this is some kinda populated colony...
...isn't it?
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This is no colony. It's deserted aside from the people chattering on this network. Population seems to be mostly synthetics.
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[ THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE. ]
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ANYWAY, HERE'S THE RUN-DOWN: YOU'RE ON A HUGE, EMPTY PLANET CALLED SACROSANCT. YOU'VE BEEN ACCIDENTALLY KIDNAPPED BY SOME FREAK FUCK OF A GLITCH IN SACROSANCT'S BULLSHIT QUASISENTIENT MOTHERBOARD THAT SEEMS TO CAUSE SPACETIME RIFTS. IT ALSO MAKES THIS STATION SOMETHING OF A BLACKHOLE FOR STUPID ASSHOLES.
CONGRATULATIONS AND WELCOME, HUMAN O'BRIEN.
BUT WHO THE FUCK KNOWS. THAT'S JUST WHAT I'VE BEEN TOLD.
EITHER WAY, YOU'VE BASICALLY BEEN BROUGHT HERE BY COMPLETE BULLSHIT. LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, APPARENTLY.
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Yeah okay, you know what? That sounds like a complete pile of horseshit, but thanks for playing.
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IT IS DELIGHTFUL.
CUZ YEAH YOU KNOW I WAS SO READY TO THINK THE SAME EXACT FUCKING THING
UNTIL I HEARD IT FROM LIKE 5 OTHER PEOPLE.
BE RESIGNED TO YOUR COMFORTABLE, HORRIBLE FATE.
BESIDES EVEN DESPITE MY OWN SKEPTICISM, I WAS AT LEAST FUCKING SMART ENOUGH TO CONSIDER HOW UNREAL THE CIRCUMSTANCES BY WHICH I ARRIVED WERE.
SEE, I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I ROLLED DOWN A HILL OF SHRED-YOUR-SHIT-TO-FUCK AND PRETTY MUCH GOT MAIMED. I GOT ALL PATCHED UP AND EVERYTHING BUT I WAS SMART ENOUGH TO REALIZE THIS WASN'T MY FUCKING PLANET! WELL, NO.
I WASN'T ON THE SORT-OF PLANET I'D BEEN ON PREVIOUSLY.
ANYWAY MY POINT IS IT WAS OBVIOUS I WASN'T WHERE I WAS SUPPOSED TO FUCKING BE. IT WAS AN INCREDIBLE REVELATION OF FORESIGHT THAT MADE ME LOOK LIKE LESS OF A HOOFBEAST'S HINDQUARTERS.
AS USUAL, YOU ARE TRAPPED IN THE LIMITED SPACE OF YOUR STUPID THINK BOX, OF WHICH YOU CANNOT THINK OUTSIDE OF.
I MEAN, COME ON.
CONSIDERING EVERYTHING SO FAR, DOES IT REALLY SOUND SO ( ... )
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You've got spirit, soldier, but unless your battalion followed you into that trash heap, you're going to have one hell of a time shooting up this place.
Far as the chatter goes, you've got a number of buddies hoofing it out here. If you've lost your side-arm, might be wise to have one of them come and retrieve you.
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They're not my buddies unless they're Helljumpers, and I haven't heard anybody sound off yet.
It's fine, though, whatever, I don't need any fucking back up. I can handle myself.
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When you're in grey territory, anyone wearing the same logo on their armor is your buddy, Private.
But, if you can handle yourself, by all means.
You found your way out of the radiation yard yet?
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[ Of course he hasn't. ]
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