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thesilliestrovingalive · 6 months ago

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Updated: June 19, 2025

Reworked Character #18: Walter Ryan

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, child abuse, suicide, drug addiction, and crime.

Real name: Walter Evangelos Mulryan

Nicknames: Walt, Evan, and Ryan

Occupation: Sergeant Major of Division 6 and cadet for the P.F. Squad (formerly)

Retirement plans: He's unsure what he wants to do outside of military service

Special skills: Zoology, callisthenics, Krav Maga, the use of paradummies, and mastery of guitars, keyboards, and singing

Imperfect clone abilities: From just above his pubic region to the upper back in a semi-crescent shape, he has skin flaps that open wide when he slouches and focuses on a specific person, group or object. Once open, they reveal his Marian blue muscles coated with mucosal lilac slime and six large circular holes. The mucosal slime coats his entire muscular and internal organ systems, providing effective immunity against harmful bacteria and viruses. From these holes emerge 1 ft (30.48 cm) fleshy periwinkle tendrils that grow up to 4 ft (121.92 cm) upon exposure to air, fueled by rapid cell growth and blood flow. The tendrils become semi-hard and extremely elastic, stretching up to 12 ft (365.76 cm) and capable of breaking iron-strength objects. Their primary functions include impaling, crushing, restraining, and lifting massive objects, such as two Easter Island heads, but they also possess remarkable sensitivity to gentle touch. Tracing the bulging greenish and reddish veins triggers uncontrollable spasms and intense arousal.

When he's extremely focused on reaching his destination, the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins enables him to run at an incredible pace, nearly twice as fast as a cheetah. He possesses exceptionally acute hearing, capable of detecting sounds from 20 ft (609.6 cm) away, including the faint footsteps of cats, which enables him to easily sense the presence of others. Initially, his endurance and stamina enabled him to withstand three times the normal amount of physical pain, recover from injuries 50% faster, and remain active for seven hours without fatigue. However, following his training with the Peregrine Falcons Squad, his endurance and stamina have improved significantly. He can now tolerate extreme physical stress, recover from injuries in just one to two hours, and sustain himself for up to five days without rest.

Hobbies: Dumpster diving, phoning his Mama, frequenting karaoke bars, smoking his neon-coloured, floral-patterned bong off work, and creating new rock-inspired musical compositions either by himself or in collaboration with Allen Jr.

Likes: Trying on pretty dresses, letting Tyra put makeup on him and paint his nails, the call sounds of laughing kookaburras, the necklace his older half-sister gave him, and spending an entire day off work watching nature documentaries and writing music reviews

Dislikes: When others poke fun of his accent and use of Australian slang, his fleshy tendrils being caressed during battle, being viewed as an impulsive moron, gender norms, and jungles

Favourite food: Grilled kangaroo covered in gravy and caramelised onions

Sexuality: Bicurious, heteroromantic demisexual

Gender: Male

Age: 11 (in 2022), 17 (in 2028), 19 (in 2030), 21 (in 2032), 23 (in 2034), 30 (in 2041), 32 (in 2043), 33 (in 2044), and 36 (in 2047)

Blood type: AB-

Weight: 183 lbs. (83 kg)

Design: He’s a 7 ft (213.36 cm) Greek-Australian ectomorph with a wiry build, an inverted triangular body type, slightly elongated limbs, sloping shoulders, and decently chiselled muscles that bulge unnervingly when he flexes. He has dark green eyes, golden beige skin, and brownish freckles scattered across his face, chest, and hands. Additionally, hidden behind his standard teeth lies a row of razor-sharp, carnivorous ones. He sports the same hairstyle as Walter’s card from Metal Slug Advance, but his hair is a glossy raisin black with neatly tapered sideburns that fade out halfway down. Shortly after he started dating Tyra, she painted his nails with aquamarine nail polish and did his makeup, applying fan shape steel blue eyeshadow, brownish-black mascara, and soft peach lip gloss.

He has the same cybernetic prosthetic as Marco, but it replaces his right arm and doesn't include the gilded blade. He bears several scars, mostly obtained during the Survival Island Occupation: a cut from beside his left nostril to the centre of his chin; two bullet wounds on his left deltoid; a graze wound on his left knee; a gnarled slash on the top of his left forearm, curving slightly towards the end; bite marks on his left forearm; and multiple healed scratches and skin-picking scars on his left upper arm, shoulder, and thighs. He has a tattoo featuring a vertical mauve to dusty rose to blue-grey gradient, situated just below his collarbone. The tattoo reads "Πάθει μάθος" (páthei máthos), a Greek phrase that translates to "learning through suffering”. He has a tattoo on his left lumbar region, depicting a horned viper coiled around a rotten red apple, ready to strike.

His military gear consists of a metal dog tag necklace with his name, reseda green leather wristbands, a sinopia belt with a snap-on bronze buckle, a sheath for his combat knife, and a holster for his handgun. He sports a Pacific cyan vest with four pockets, its original P.F. Squad logo on the back having been replaced by the Division 6 insignia. He wears an olivine T-shirt with a ripped right sleeve, featuring a golden-red phoenix centred on the front, its head turned to the right. The phoenix has outstretched wings, a black beak, eagle-like feet, and an emerald green eye. He wears dark green, greyish-brown, and charcoal camouflage army cargo pants, which are tucked into the same boots worn by Walter Ryan in Metal Slug Advance.

The pockets of Walter’s vest carry around a pinkish-white vape adorned with light yellow teardrop seeds that impart a vanilla strawberry flavour, an amber jewel with a bright sheen (a gift from Tyra), a white gold stick of raspberry champagne lip chap, and a butterfly knife. It also carries a photograph of his Mama with a toddler version of himself, sucking his thumb and shyly looking away from the camera, taken on a sunny day at Poipu Beach.

Over his T-shirt, he dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries around his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. His left forearm is wrapped in a dirty gauze bandage, and a rust-coloured bandolier is slung over his right shoulder, holding bullets for his handgun. Walter carries a sinopia load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a RMb-93, a Shotgun, and a couple of paradummies. His backpack even carries a maximum blue purple Yamaha SHS-10, a Paris green sound-cancelling, bluetooth headset, a cellphone with a metallic purple case, and a metallic purple rectangular case filled with coloured pencils in every hue of the rainbow.

It contains a Drop Shot modified by Tarma, which fires bouncing landmines that explode upon contact with fabric and travel far distances of up to 18 ft (548.64 cm), and is combined with a heavy machine gun. It also contains his diary, bound in worn alligator skin and marked with a phthalo blue silk ribbon, filled with his most intimate thoughts and feelings, observant sketches of his surroundings, and illustrations of the disturbing hallucinations that plague him.

He has three piercings: yellowish-green snake bite piercings; a white gold nostril hoop piercing on the right; a metallic blue horizontal barbell piercing above his left eyebrow; and purple-tinted silver tassels that adorn medium-sized gold hoop earrings. Walter wears a personalised friendship bracelet featuring Dilovar's name in letter beads, accompanied by alternating turquoise, amethyst, and yellow-orange beads. He wears a black cord necklace featuring a sapphire boomerang-shaped pendant, adorned with two thin zigzag stripes in yellow-orange, a gift from his older half-sister when he turned 15.

Character summary: He's a troubled and quick-tempered individual searching for his life's purpose, who excels at creating distractions through clever misdirection, verbal deception, and unorthodox tactics like animalistic sounds and decoys. After being mute for nine years of his life, he has developed a tendency to be overly talkative and expressive, often unintentionally interrupting others. Whenever he feels emotionally overwhelmed, he tends to exhibit self-soothing behaviours, such as biting his forearms, scratching himself or picking at his skin. He's surprisingly laid-back and easygoing, always supportive of his comrades and friends as he adapts seamlessly to any situation without complaint. He occasionally needs some persuasion to take action, particularly when concerns about potential risks or negative outcomes hold him back.

He's a bit of a mama's boy, evident in his weekly phone calls with his mother and occasional returns home to stay with her when he’s feeling emotionally drained. It really annoys him when people call him a "mama's boy” because he doesn't want to be perceived as weak and overly dependent on his mother. He calls his mother frequently, driven by a deep love for her and a persistent fear of losing her unexpectedly. The thought of her loss would plunge him into profound despair and existential crisis. He’s a charming and flirtatious feminist, often complimenting women and offering them physical comfort and words of encouragement. He feels more at ease in the company of women, finding their presence enjoyable and aesthetically pleasing, which is why he tends to seek out their company over socialising with groups of men.

He's an extroverted and slightly sarcastic rebel who boldly stands up for what he believes in, refusing to remain silent when something doesn't feel right or his loved ones are made to feel uncomfortable or threatened. Yet, his unfiltered honesty can sometimes come across as blunt and abrasive, occasionally landing him in confrontations. He's an endearingly curious and affectionate person who possesses a childlike enthusiasm for the things that thrill him, especially when it comes to upcoming vacations, quality time with loved ones, action-packed moments, and the latest music drops. Compared to most people in the Regular Army, he stands out as a hardcore party enthusiast, finding parties to be an exhilarating escape from the stresses of daily life. He's deeply passionate about indie, J-pop, rock, punk, grunge, dubstep, and electronica music, his loved ones, and animals, and he thoroughly enjoys discussing these interests with others.

He has zero tolerance for hypocrisy, food and resource waste, littering, dishonesty, animal cruelty, domestic violence, and the mistreatment of women and girls, considering these behaviours to be utterly unacceptable and destructive. He harbours sneaking suspicions about the Regular Army, particularly regarding the disregard many special operatives show for the innocence of individuals affiliated with the enemy. However, he keeps his concerns to himself to avoid creating tension for the special forces units he cares about. Walter has a tendency to become vengeful, confrontational, aggressive, and intimidating when he feels strongly wronged or his anger is justified. He often appears to be dismissive, standoffish, and condescending toward individuals he personally dislikes and doesn’t trust.

He has a tendency to act impulsively, often driven by the rapid escalation of tension and excitement. He usually jumps into battles without hesitation when he believes they will bring him closer to achieving his goal of true worth. He lacks some common sense, leading to inappropriate questions, misread social cues, interrupting others, and difficulties following instructions, even when they’re relatively straightforward. He also tends to mispronounce words, take unwise shortcuts, and overlook warning signs when dealing with individuals who hide their harmful intentions behind superficial kindness.

He takes immense pride in his singing voice, fueled by numerous compliments about its beauty and power, yet the attention it brings makes him feel painfully shy and uncomfortable in the spotlight. He hates the idea of fame because it causes him immense stress due to the prospect of unwanted attention and constant scrutiny. He becomes flustered when a woman or close friend compliments him, and he particularly dislikes it when people insult or poke fun at his enjoyment of traditionally “feminine” interests. He absolutely despises it when people look through his diary, considering it a blatant invasion of his privacy. When he's had too much to drink, he becomes hyperactive, argumentative, careless, and flirtatious, and his usual self-deprecating, anti-authoritarianism humour turns nonsensical and lighthearted.

He lives with atypical depression, PTSD, anorexia nervosa, white knight syndrome, and undiagnosed paranoid schizophrenia. Although he has paranoid schizophrenia, he doesn’t experience delusions, but he does experience hallucinations, which he has become desensitised to over time, and they now rarely cause him visible distress. He sees himself as a burden and a coward, overly reliant on others, and believes he's unworthy of the good fortune and happiness he has. He struggles with intense feelings of failure and worthlessness when he can't protect loved ones. Jungles evoke traumatic memories of the Survival Island Occupation, fueling his deep-seated fear of becoming lost, suffering the brutal loss of his friends, and being exploited as a sacrifice. While he'll initially refuse a mission that takes place in or primarily involves operating in a jungle, he'll quickly agree if Tyra, Dilovar or Roberto offer even the slightest bit of persuasion.

He secretly admires Marco for his significant contributions to the Peregrine Falcons Squad's successes, having heard many inspiring stories about him during his cadet days. He views Eri as a protective older sister and regards Roberto as the older brother he never had, despite being his distant cousin. He's good friends with Trevor, often doing graffiti in abandoned buildings or smoking weed and talking about random things. He's also on good terms with Nadia, enjoying food challenges, beach trips, and shopping sprees together, and he likes to try out different outfits she suggests for him. He absolutely despises Gimlet and frequently clashes with him over his unwanted advances on Tyra and his racist, sexist, and sanist bullying of many people, including cadets. However, a small part of him respects Gimlet for his role in the Arms Deal Barrage and empathises with his struggles with substance abuse.

Walter loves his adopted Martian son, Pocke, with the devotion of a caring father. He'll stop at nothing to keep him safe, and enjoys showering him with attention through conversation, playtime, and gentle affection. Pocke's silly antics and curiosity have captured his heart, but his tendency to knock things off the counter and pick up potentially hazardous objects can be slightly maddening. He has three pets that he deeply cherishes, which he bought after saving enough money following the Invader Conquest: Spawo, a Moluccan cockatoo; Maristela, a sunset ball python; and Zeph, an agouti Siberian Husky with heterochromatic eyes (green on the right and amber on the left). He dislikes it when people try to teach Spawo naughty words as it always embarrasses him when his cockatoo annoyingly repeats the same word she learned throughout the day.

Dilovar is his closest friend and he thoroughly enjoys spending time with him, appreciating his quirky humour, lively nature, comforting presence, and awe-inspiring determination. He has a brotherly relationship with Dilovar, marked by occasional heated disputes and good-natured joking. However, he either finds Dilovar's flamboyant, playful, and joking suggestions and antics that are directed towards him to be arousing or unsettling. Initially, he clashed with Tyra, perceiving her as overly confident, showy, and disturbingly cold. Despite this, he maintained a level of respect for her, largely driven by his disgust at the idea of mistreating a woman. He was also aware of her reputation for being merciless and aggressively aloof towards those who crossed her, so he made a conscious effort not to push her boundaries. His true motivation for initiating a short-lived rivalry with Tyra was rooted in jealousy, wanting to surpass her fearlessness in combat and wilderness survival.

As they opened up and formed a platonic bond that blossomed into romance, he became increasingly protective of Tyra, often going out of his way to help her, even when she was capable of handling things on her own. His gratitude for her unwavering support, combined with his admiration of her stunning physical beauty and military prowess, fueled his growing devotion and deepened his strong romantic feelings for her. He’s incredibly affectionate towards Tyra, frequently showering her with physical affection and well-meaning compliments. He often hugs her tightly, rubs his face against hers, and showers her with love through various types of kisses, ranging from a gentle peck on the cheek to a passionate French kiss. He's quick to listen and back down when she verbally tells him to or shoots him a sharp, serious glare. He sometimes gets into heated arguments with Tyra over things they disagree on or when he does something foolish. However, he occasionally doesn't bother to fight back because he finds her intimidating when she's really angry. Instead, he’ll often give her some space after they're done arguing.

He’s a utilitarian who believes that people should not dwell on the consequences of their actions because the results only occur in the future. Instead, he thinks they should focus on happiness, which is the only intrinsic value that matters in determining our goodness or wickedness in life. He believes that actions causing unhappiness are wrong and that everyone's happiness deserves equal consideration when making decisions. He advocates for the right to self-defence, even when it may result in harm to others, particularly when faced with a genuine and immediate threat. Furthermore, he believes that proportionate defensive measures are justified against entities that violate the principle of non-aggression and pose a threat to others. He believes that the cycle of life and death are interconnected and that if one were to suddenly vanish or become overpowered, the equilibrium of the universe would collapse in on itself.

Backstory: Walter Evangelos Mulryan was born on February 14, 2011 in Rockhampton, Australia. His mother, Chloe Mulryan, whom he refers to as Mama, was once a mercenary for the Regular Army before retiring to start a family, and later became a geologist and avid adventurer. He has a Portuguese stepfather, Valério Medeiros, a construction manager who was a former member of the Serapion Fellowship who defected due to their morally reprehensible beliefs and practices, including brainwashing and human exploitation. He has two half-sisters: Lúcia Medeiros, his older half-sister and a fashion designer, and Betânia Medeiros, his younger half-sister and a dermatologist. He has a maternal aunt, whom he affectionately calls Auntie, who would often babysit him and read him books about nature and Australian history. He has a distant cousin on his father's side, Roberto, whom he first met at a family gathering in Portugal.

He often describes Mama as "one wild lady" and cherished their adventure-filled times together. However, she had a tendency to baby him excessively and shower him with disproportionate attention. When Mama was away, he would spend hours with his half-sisters, Lúcia and Betânia. They would dress him up in pretty dresses, apply makeup, and share their aspirations with him. Lúcia would tell Walter stories about her crushes, school dramas, and lessons from her courses. He felt uneasy being around his stepfather, who treated him and his half-sisters with a stern, militaristic demeanour. Valério was disproportionately strict with him, largely because he was the product of an extramarital affair. He describes Auntie as similar to Fio in terms of her demeanour, but she leans more towards conspiracy theories, and she's notably more aggressive and confrontational when defending her loved ones.

He was once extremely shy and heavily reliant on Mama, which frustrated his stepfather, who did his best to encourage self-reliance. However, his efforts were often in vain, as Walter would frequently ignore his encouragement, instead isolating himself in his room for hours until dinner or spending most of his time outdoors. When Walter turned 3, his stepfather's frustration sometimes boiled over into physical punishment or verbal belittling. This traumatic treatment left him fearful of speaking up, causing him to become mute. During this period, he learned sign language and discovered a natural musical gift, exhibiting talent in playing the guitar and keyboard, and emerging as a budding prodigy. Despite being shy, he struggled with anger issues, lashing out at his peers during playground and school interactions, frequently getting into fights and physically intimidating others, which landed him in frequent trouble.

At a New Year's Eve party, Walter, who had been mute for nine years, surprisingly spoke up, asking where Mama was, marking a turning point in his journey toward self-confidence and self-reliance. The entire family was stunned, having lost hope that he would ever regain his voice. However, Valério remained skeptical, attributing his mutism to attention-seeking behaviour and a lack of courage to assert his independence. This action would earn his stepfather a sliver of respect and pride, despite viewing Walter as an unwanted burden and a stain on his marriage to Chloe. Shortly after this moment, he would receive a diary as a gift from his Mama.

He endured school bullying for being different, struggling with self-reliance, and having interests that didn't align with traditional masculinity. He tried to focus on his studies and ignore the bullying, but the constant harassment often proved too much, leading him to lash out verbally or physically in self-defence on multiple occasions. A schoolyard scuffle would lead him to inadvertently discovering his imperfect clone abilities in secondary school. During an altercation, a girl kicked him in the groin, causing him to double over in pain. As he did, his hidden skin flaps and fleshy tendrils were exposed. In that moment, he unintentionally crushed the girl who had hurt him to death, which left him visibly shaken. After that, people saw him as a freak of nature and were terrified, including his small group of friends, who went out of their way to avoid him at all costs.

He would eventually learn from his Mama that he’s an imperfect clone of his Greek father, conceived through in vitro fertilisation using his father's sperm and bioengineered DNA. He was a scientist for the Amadeus Syndicate and one of Doctor Amadeus’ top researchers. However, he attempted to steal sensitive documents detailing unethical experiments and cloning technology, and mysteriously disappeared before Walter was born. Walter was supposed to have a twin brother, but his brother tragically died in the womb. It made him realise that this revelation seemingly contributed to Valério’s animosity toward him and the fear others harboured for him.

Over the next few years, Walter developed white knight syndrome due to repeated abandonment by friends, unsuccessful pursuit of romantic love and exploitation by partners he tried to help. Feeling inhuman and unimportant, exacerbated by his stepfather's emotional unavailability and mother's increasing absence, further eroded his self-worth. Additionally, bullying for his physical appearance and societal beauty standards led to body dysmorphia, culminating in anorexia nervosa. The cumulative stress, exacerbated by his stepfather's neglect and stringent expectations, coupled with the recent traumatic loss of his Auntie in a car accident, triggered symptoms consistent with paranoid schizophrenia, although no official diagnosis has been made. Amidst this turmoil, he found solace in playing the guitar and keyboard, singing, nature documentaries, and the support of his two half-sisters.

By the time he was in grade 11, he dropped out of high school during a difficult period of depression in the winter. Struggling to find direction in life, he experienced a crisis that led him to consider harming himself. One night, while contemplating jumping off the Neville Hewitt Bridge, a group of passersby noticed him and intervened, offering support and persuading him to reconsider. These delinquents would take Walter in, understanding his struggles and making him feel accepted, giving him hope of finding purpose in life.

From that point on, he became involved in crime, committing illicit activities such as car break-ins, vandalism, credit card fraud, and physical altercations. He also began to express his individuality through tattoos and piercings. Additionally, he developed an interest in self-defence, studying Krav Maga, and physical fitness, practicing callisthenics. He and his newfound friends started a hip-hop alternative rock band with Walter as the lead singer, which slowly grew in popularity. During a wild party at a friend's house, he developed a barbiturate addiction, had a reckless encounter with a prostitute, and received his first bong: a neon-coloured, floral-patterned one that he still treasures. Walter eventually abandoned his rock band due to his struggles with a barbiturate addiction, overwhelming fan expectations, and unwanted attention. Fans, particularly young girls who found him attractive, male peers jealous of his talent, and harsh critics, added to the pressure.

After a near-fatal drug overdose and being sent to juvenile detention for the third time, Walter's stepfather intervened, urging him to turn his life around or face homelessness. With support from Lúcia, Betânia and his Mama, Walter entered drug rehabilitation and overcame his barbiturate addiction. While caring for the household, seeking employment, and being homeschooled by his Mama and Lúcia, Walter discovered an online recruitment ad for the Peregrine Falcons Squad at age 18. Seeing this as his calling, he volunteered without hesitation, promising his mother he'd stay in touch via phone on a weekly basis.

After earning decent grades on the written tests, he enlisted in the P.F. Squad, joined by five former delinquent friends—Ivanhoe, Maximilian, Brody, Rylan, and Uriah—who sought a renewed sense of purpose and the opportunity to protect others. However, his reputation as an imperfect clone, combined with his ill temper and harsh treatment of those he disliked or distrusted, made it challenging for others to approach or trust him. His temper was notoriously volatile, frequently leading to cafeteria fights, where he and his friends would overpower their fellow cadets who dared to provoke him. On rare occasions, these altercations nearly turned fatal. As a result, his former drill instructor, known for being exceptionally strict, isolated him and his friends from the rest of the group and placed them into the "misfit batch”, alongside Dilovar and Tyra.

During training, he befriended Dilovar after a lively conversation about their shared enthusiasm for military service, bonding over beers and a weed break. He struggled to trust Tyra due to her overconfidence and aloof demeanour, which sparked jealousy when he witnessed her fearlessness during training exercises. This led to a rivalry between them, with both striving to outdo the other in the intense training courses. Their competitions frequently ended with either Tyra emerging victorious or a tie, but these encounters gradually fostered a strong friendship and deep mutual respect. Despite this, his time in the P.F. Squad helped him hone his skills in paradummy tactics and better control his imperfect clone abilities. Through their rigorous training programs, he discovered a community of trustworthy peers, developed self-confidence in his physical prowess and mental resilience, and became more laid-back and open to forming lasting, loyal relationships.

Initially hesitant to participate in the final P.F. Squad training program, he harboured a nagging feeling that something would go terribly wrong. However, with Dilovar's reassuring words of encouragement and Tyra's playful teasing about being a coward, he pushed aside his doubts and joined the others in the final training course. After being dropped off at a remote South Pacific archipelago by boat, Walter reunited with his friends from Australia and teamed up with Tyra. Together, they ventured deep into the jungle, discovering a clearing with a nearby freshwater stream, where they constructed makeshift shelters centred around a communal campfire.

While searching for Tyra, who had vanished during a hunting expedition, he stumbled upon a suspicious blood trail. It led him to an encampment of Rebel Army cadets, where he found Tyra and aided her in defending herself against them. Later that day, he stumbled upon the lifeless bodies of Ivanhoe, Maximilian, Brody, Rylan, and Uriah beside the stream, victims of a deadly ambush by Rebel Infantrymen and cadets who had seized their weaponry and equipment. The trauma of losing the people who had first welcomed him triggered a debilitating mental breakdown. Fortunately, Tyra was by his side during this incident, and her kindness and support deepened his affection for her, revealing a warmer side of her that captivated him.

He didn’t hesitate to charge forward, driven to uncover his true worth while exacting vengeance on the Rebel Army for their past transgressions. As Tyra searched for a radio tower, Walter focused on finding Formor and stumbled upon an abandoned building in a destroyed site, surrounded by discarded military vehicles and a functional SV-001. Inside, he saw Amadeus Syndicate scientists collecting body parts from the mutilated corpses of Rebel bodyguards and P.F. Squad cadets, but Walter swiftly retreated before they detected him. Later, while navigating a village of South Pacific P’isqu Runakuna huts, he encountered and battled a couple of frenzied creatures resembling mantis and simian monsters. To his dismay, they turned out to be transformed fellow cadets and Intelligence Agency agent hostages.

During his journey, he fell into a trap set by Allen O'Neil, who had disguised himself as one of his drill instructors. Allen O'Neil had deliberately misled him, ordering him to press onward under the pretense of stopping the Rebel threat. He was swiftly captured by the P’isqu Runakuna ("bird people" in Quechua), who planned to sacrifice him to Itzamná. This was after Allen O'Neil had brainwashed them into believing Walter was a worthy candidate to appease their god. In the altar room, the P’isqu Runakuna meticulously prepared their sacrificial ritual. They fed and cleaned Walter before securing him to a stake placed before an ancient statue of Itzamná. Then, they carefully positioned poison-spewing maggots on his body, which would later leave him with a lasting fear of larvae. Just as the sacrifice was about to begin, Dilovar and Hyakutaro peacefully intervened, rescuing Walter and joining forces with the natives to combat the Rebel Army.

During a chase to confront Logan, who was piloting Karn and leading his platoon, Walter was attacked by a flamethrower soldier, severely burning his right arm. The pain distracted him, and he was quickly overwhelmed by a group of six Rebel Infantrymen, including the flamethrower soldier, who viciously taunted him for not keeping a close eye on Tyra and mocked him for being a poor excuse for a soldier. A shielded soldier, wielding a machete, brutally attacked Walter, chopping off his right arm and causing him to scream in agony. This alerted Allen Jr., who rushed to his rescue and slaughtered all the soldiers pinning Walter down before they could inflict any further torture. With Allen Jr.'s assistance and encouragement, he was forced to temporarily retreat and receive urgent medical assistance from Rumi. Consumed by rage and a desire for vengeance, Walter fatally shot Logan with a Shotgun after he attempted to escape the destroyed Karn, avenging Tyra's kidnapping and harm.

Shortly after the Survival Island Occupation, he graduated with the highest honours alongside Tyra and Dilovar. He then joined Division 6 after Hyakutaro extended an invitation to him, and he rose to the rank of Sergeant Major. Later, Tarma built him a cybernetic prosthetic, which he greatly appreciates. During a mission to thwart a pirate raid on a cargo ship carrying valuable Regular Army military weapons and biotech, he unexpectedly reunited with Roberto, whom he thought he'd never see again.

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xus-alt · 8 months ago

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You're in your snail era. Have this

Snera

Sergeant Slug and Snailspace :3

Goobers :3

#yokai watch #yokai #ykw #yo kai watch #yo kai watch 3 #snail posting

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nunezs-stuff · 6 months ago

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I'm sorry to bother you, but I need help with something...

For my Metal Slug AU, I'm reworking a character named Allen Jr. In the OG gaming franchise, Allen Jr. is the son of the Rebel Army Sergeant, Allen O'Neil. He's an elite soldier for the Rebel Army. He's described as being more cold and calculating than his father, who's more of a hot-headed dunce.

In my AU, Allen Jr. works for the Regular Army because he's against the Rebel Army and their atrocious actions. I decided that his mother, Henrietta, is Scottish-Hungarian. He has a little sister named Nancy (like OG Allen Jr.). His family is alive and well.

I'm currently trying to figure out how he joined and left the Ikari Warriors (a mercenary group), and how he ended up joining Division 6 (a special forces unit). I'm also trying to figure out a traumatic event that would've awakened his esper abilities (maybe it has something to do with being bullied because I decided that Iron Eclipse!Allen Jr. is autistic).

I'm okay with random suggestions :)

As much as I don't know much I will try my best

He awakened his abilities when he was a child because he got kidnapped and was about to be shoot in the head so out of pure mental Panic he screamed which activated his abilities killing his kidnappers and the reason he joined Division when he was looking for a job as he was maybe on decent terms with his parents but he could tell he was slowly becoming a burden so he wanted to find somewhere to live and money fast so he joined them but something always felt off like they were hiding something and it seems he was right because

he left because he found out the Army was putting trackers in the children that were brought there to be raised and fight in the army and because he found out that one of the Army members were killing children after being supposedly kicked out because he wasn't doing his duties properly and the fact that they covered it up made him angry

I tried my very best with this ask I hope you liked my idea

#you ask i answer

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absolutelybifurious · 10 months ago

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cancelling the apocalypse

pacific rim au | buddie | longfic, whump, angst, eventual happy ending (very eventual) | mature

chapter uh, 8?? yeah 8!!! update

read from beginning

Chapter summary: Buck and Eddie get into some trouble.

“Damn,” Eddie says, trying for a laugh. “Got a little bit of a hair trigger, huh?” It’s not like Buck’s renowned for his impulse control, but that was… different. He’s been asking if Eddie’s okay, but he’s the one who feels dazed. “Yeah,” Buck half-gasps. “Guess so.” His knuckles sting from Doug’s jaw – but the weird part is he’s still angry. Every time he glances over and sees the cut on Eddie’s temple, the blossoming purple around it. He’s thinking about Doug’s hands on Eddie, thinking of Eddie’s shocked breath at the impact. Buck can’t stand Doug. He’s definitely fantasized about hitting the guy before, but this is different. For one, he did it. For two, this is painful, like a rending in his chest. Like he wants to turn around, walk back into that room, and tear Doug in half – consequences be damned. “You gotta relax,” Eddie says, still trying for levity. “You look like you’re thinking about slugging me now.” “No,” Buck says, too bright – like he’s electrified. “No, I wouldn’t—” “I know.” Eddie scratches the back of his head. All gentle reassurance. “But right now, we’re about to get chewed out by Sergeant Grant, and I think it’d be best if you didn’t look ready to take a swing at her.” Buck nods, then inhales long and deep through his nose before he lets it out. “Are you okay?” he asks once he’s done. “For the tenth time,” Eddie says, “I’m good.”

read on ao3

#bri fic #look i finally did it #skipped like 3 chapters i think but here we are #i have 72k of this fic written im so serious im unwell #its so messy this is so messy and longggg #buddie fic #pacrim au

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amrass · 1 year ago

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Fanfiction updates and excerpts 06.16.24

Happy summer, everyone! The worst season lol. Late spring was intense and I'm still recovering, but we're experiencing a lot of nice rain, and I am engorging myself on coffee and books :)

I miiight open up for RDR2 oneshot requests sometime later this summer or early autumn, under a collection - or a fic at Ao3, most likely - called Barbwired Tumbleweed. So watch this space!

As always, most of the fics underneath the cut are explicit and rather dark, with a focus on Morbell and Drisbell.

Main projects:

Salt part 16+. Colm/Micah. Sugar daddy AU. Dark.

While carrying a large barrel of moonshine of his wiry, but considerably strong body, Toothpick paused beside Micah. He looked him over from head to toe, making him feel weirdly slimy.

"What do you want?"

"Oh nothing, really. Just admiring Colm's taste, that's all."

"Not everyone can fuck their way to the top," Daniel commented, breaking the staring contest between them. Micah snarled at the implications, lighting himself a smoke and breathing like a dragon.

"That puts you two boys in the same boat, doesn't it? One boy for each brother. Oh, I like our bosses, I really, really do."

The Lost and the Lethal part 3. Gen? Biker AU in the 90s.

"Listen," Hosea began. "Bringing back this bad stuff with Annabelle, it's obviously meant to antagonize you."

"Damn right it antagonizes me," Dutch muttered.

"Only if you let it," Hosea said, tone sharp until the Duke meowed in irritation. Hosea petted him and said, more quietly, "You're good at ignoring Arthur when he's had too much to drink, no matter how much crap he comes up with. Use some of that skill for this."

"Hey," Arthur said, feeling less like a sergeant at arms sitting between the president and vice president of a biker club, and more like a kid dragged into the quarrel of his parents.

These Days part 3. Arthur/Micah. Biker AU in the 00s.

He turned the water to its coldest setting. He'd done that often, before, so he didn't expect the dizziness when it came. Nearly falling, he grasped the wall to keep his balance.

Legs shaking, he glared at the shower chair.

"Fuck you," he said, and then laughed at himself for cursing a piece of furniture. The laughter was bitter, and he didn't let go off the wall. If shower chairs could gaze, this one did so somberly and purply.

Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill. Arthur/Micah. A sequel to Through the Wilderness. Micah is a bounty hunter, hunted by Arthur, who has survived TB through the method of artificial lung collapse. Dark.

"But I guess that was a while ago. Last time I saw you, I didn't think you'd pull through! All skin and bones now, but better than all blood and coughs. Is it true that they cut out one of your lungs? Leave it up to a creature like you to beat a thing that kills most men. Better men, some would say. Not me."

Let that silver-tongued bastard talk. Let him stall the massacre in the saloon. Let him put fuel to Arthur's rage so it'll burn them both.

"My boys tell campfire stories about you, you know. They say you take the shape of a big black dog, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the scent of blood. Can you smell it right now? We're planning to do some hunting soon. We're real good at it, too, cause you've been picking off the boys who ain't worthy of following me."

Slug. O'Driscoll Gang/Micah. Biker AU in the 80s. VERY DARK.

"Easy, baby," Toothpick says as if cutting the hair of a pet, not slicing up boxers. As soon as he steps back to look at his handiwork, Micah closes his thighs and pulls his knees to the side, hating to be exposed. The position remains awkward, all the duct tape on him leaving him in a sort of standing kneel rather than anything stable.

"Adorable." Toothpick puts the knife back in his boot. He begins toying with the waistline of the sweatpants, showing off the outline of an erection. Slowly, he reveals himself only to hide himself again, like he's teasing a lover with something wanted.

Cheeks burning, Micah wants to look away, but the tape keeps his head fixed in place. He's vaguely aware of Prince Albert piercings being a thing, but he's never seen one in person until now.

"You like it?" A step closer. Every muscle in Micah's body tenses. "It doesn't have to hurt," Toothpick croons. "Will it be your first? I like introducing boys to this very important part of life."

LOL what an excerpt to end with ... Ngl Slug might be my best work. Anyway, that's it! I'll probably be working on these until autumn :)

Hope you're all are doing great!

#amras writes #morbell #drisbell

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theirishwolfhound · 1 year ago

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AHoGiSoG- Chapter 3: The Ural Mountains Pt. 1

Mission Start: Locate Unknown Target Word Count: 5,671

Content Warnings: Gays Flirting, Dad Jokes, Really Bad Flirting Happy Pride month! Enjoy these four gays hiking chatting. Not too much action (violence mostly) takes place in these few chapters, take it as a slice of life type content. Just to see the vibes and how I imagine everyone interacts with one another. :) Banners are from: @Firefly Graphics

5:45 July 31st, 2022

The same faint, annoying blare of an alarm clock that woke him up every morning began to buzz in the empty room. He slapped his hand over the clock, turning it off before sitting up to get ready for the morning. Running a rough hand over his face and through his messy hair, he swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up and stretch his sore muscles. A low groan pooled from his lips as he headed to his bathroom to clean up and get ready for the day. He would get dressed into his fatigues— they’d have time to put their gear on and check it later— tucking his shirt into his pants to look somewhat put together, and exit his room to walk towards the common room.

The walk was quiet, his boots hitting the floor just right to avoid making any sound, nor did any of the soldiers that were up that early pay him any mind, it was way too early for a conversation after all— at least that was the idea.

“Ghost! Good mornin’...” The familiar Irish accent got his attention and he was quick to look up towards the sergeant that stood in front of the coffee maker, his fatigues covering up the pale canvas of skin underneath. Curly hair pulled back into, what he could only guess was supposed to be, a bun while a small smile splayed across his lips. For once he looked well rested, and it looked good on him. “I, uh, made ye’ tae.”

“Sergeant.” Ghost greeted, giving the younger man a nod as he made his way over to the Irishman so that he could take the cup of tea from him when it was offered out. He looked down to the cup and hummed softly to himself. “Thanks, lad, didn’t ‘ave to make me a cuppa…” He mumbled, pushing his mask up slightly to take a sip when Wolfhound turned to continue pouring himself some coffee. Johnny had come by after he had left Crow’s bunk, telling him that the Irishman might have a sneaking suspicion on their more intimate affairs— but Simon was surprised the man didn’t figure it out sooner, considering how clingy Soap was. But at least he knew now what the two had been teasing one another about. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a feckin’ babe.” Crow laughed softly as he set the pot back under the dispenser and picked his mug up to turn towards Simon. He hummed a little, lightly reaching over to slug the taller man in the shoulder. “T’anks t’ya. Now, uh, I’ve gotta go finish up m’paperwork so it won’ pile up ta’much..”

“Hm… yer welcome, red.” The lieutenant mused, rolling his eyes at the other’s words. He took a sip of the tea, sighing in faint delight before watching the ginger take his mug and exit the common room. “Have fun.”

~~~~

Hours would pass before any of the sergeants or the lieutenant would see one another. Between training separately or tying up loose work before they had to leave, but once they were given the word to finally group up at the tarmac they would. Price was waiting for them near the helicopter, watching as they approached with gloved hands tightening loose gear to their proper fittings. He stepped over to Gaz when Ghost stepped in front of Soap, the two commanding officers tugging and inspecting their gear while Wolfhound adjusted his a little bit more. The smaller man occasionally glanced up to watch the four men fret over one another. With a few pats to the older sergeant’s chest the captain moved on to the younger’s, checking over his gear.

“I know you’ll take care of the lads out there,” Price started, his voice soft enough for the other three to not hear— not like they were listening anyways, they were bickering with one another while trying to check Ghost’s gear as the tall man grumbled in annoyance. Crow stumbled a little when John gripped the sides of his vest, pulling on it to make sure it was strapped perfectly. “...just make sure you let them do the same for you, y’hear?”

“Aye, cap…” The Irishman chuckled softly, lightly patting the captain’s hands a little to reassure the man, he knew that he could be stubborn on missions with how he put others before himself. Though ever after he lost his fiancé he couldn’t help but make sure his team got out safely, even if he had to fight tooth and nail to do so. “We’ll come back safe n’ sound, yeah?”

Price didn't need the reassurance, trusting his men enough to go in and get the job done so that they could come back to him and the others— but he needed at least one, preferably two at most, to come back without an injury. “Right well… I’ll hold you lads to that.” He chuckled, lightly letting the smaller man go, patting his chest like he had done for Kyle, before walking back to the other three. Sure the simple gesture was given before almost every mission, but it still felt nice— reassuring even, leaving the younger man wanting more for the simple comfort. Crow looked to the spot that had been patted and smiled softly, placing his hand over it before quickly rejoining the group.

Wolfhound stood at Gaz’s side and gave the taller a faint smile as Price spoke about the mission details once again, the four men listening intently before they loaded onto the helicopter.

~~~~

After a long and rather boring flight, with the occasional smartass roast sesh between Johnny and Kyle— specifically when the Scot fumbled over his words when he was talking about a dream he had the night prior— they would land and clamber off the helicopter. Waving the pilot off with a quick signal before they began their trek.

The unadulterated beauty of the landscape was like a breath of fresh air, literally, compared to the scenery around the base. Their more desert-like home was nothing in beauty when put against a lush green valley with a healthy mixed forest of coniferous and deciduous trees before them. Crow stared out from the flat summit they had been dropped on, turning in a circle to look south at the distant steppes and nearly full deciduous woods. His eyes wide with appreciation, only for him to smile widely and hop lightly on his feet. He couldn’t help but feel giddy at the naturalistic view that he had before him.

“Cac naofa... Tá sé chomh hálainn…” He breathed out and then turned to look at his teammates as they watched him. There was something so ethereal about seeing the normally unamused man seem so… smiley and excited. Johnny couldn’t help but smirk and raise one of his brows.

“Cannae keep yerself contained, eh, ya wee cuilean?” The Scot teased before laughing as the Irishman glared playfully at him.

Wolfhound gave a gesture with his hand and scoffed slightly. “Wud ya get outta t’at garden, big fella!” He hissed back with a laugh while the Scot joined in.

“Oi, would y’two muppets stop arguin’?” Gaz quipped teasingly as he moved to gesture the ginger man over, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to pull him north. He slid his hand up into Crow’s hair, ruffling the already tangled curls enough to earn a soft growl from him. “C’mon, we can admire the view while we walk rather than faffing around.”

~~~~

August 1st, 2022

After walking as far as they could before the sun set, and a restful night in tents, the four would wake back up and begin to dismantle their tents— Wolfhound and Gaz working together with little argument, though a lot of snickering as Ghost purposefully messed with Soap by toying with the tent as the Scot worked on unhooking the stakes. Once they were packed up and ready to travel they would begin to head north once again, after having a quick breakfast of course. They hiked through the valley and up the incline of a steep mountain path that Johnny took one look at and called the degree of the incline. 16° according to him, and no one had the right to argue because the bastard was right.

The man was fucking brilliant. It was one of the many features about Soap that Wolfhound loved, his intelligence, simply because it made everything so much easier— and it was lowkey attractive, even when it pissed the Irishman off. But he couldn’t deny that he loved giving him problems to solve just to see him happy about planning or solving a puzzle that he himself was having trouble with. Though when it came to something that Crow was supposed to be good at, he couldn’t tell if he was supposed to be impressed or angry that he was right.

It was a hard climb—not overly difficult, just annoying— but they managed to get to the peak and out of the valley so that they could continue along the way. It felt more casual than other missions, like a hike between friends despite the lingering caution in the air since they knew that they would eventually find some sort of resistance. Yet that did not stop them all from lightly joking around especially whenever it came time to take a quick break a little bit after noon.

“What is red and bad for yer teeth?” Ghost asked gruffly while opening his canteen to take a sip, watching as Soap struggled to open up his rations.

“What’s it?” Gaz asked, chuckling slightly as Wolfhound snatched the rations from the Scot to open it for him.

“A brick.”

A soft snort came from the Irishman’s nose, only for him to bring a hand up to his brow and pinch it slightly. “Oh my God.” He breathed softly, stifling the rest of his laugh while the other two shared one. “T’at was terrible.”

“Y’laughed.” The lieutenant teased with a gruff chuckle.

“An’ I regret it immensely.”

“Oh I’ve one fer ya’.” Soap said with a mouthful of his ration, a sly smile on his face. “Jus’ git back from a magic holiday in France, great hospitality in te’ hotel. Every time I ordered twa pints, they brought me three!”

Gaz snorted at the joke, rolling his eyes before watching as the Scot beamed proudly with his joke, his eyes sparkling faintly. The other two had to take a moment to understand, but they also wound up chuckling— at least Ghost did, considering Wolfhound was still trying to mask his giggles. Garrick seemed to take a few seconds then crossed his arms over his chest. “Where do y’ take someone who was injured inna peekaboo accident, eh?”

He paused for a few seconds making sure to hold eye contact with the first one that looked to him— and unfortunately the ginger-haired man was the first to glance over. He held a straight face then smirked when he noticed Crow’s attempt to stifle the little smile that was trying to form. “...the ICU.”

The younger’s breathing stuttered softly at the silly joke— though when a certain someone to his right let out a hearty laugh he couldn't help but laugh as well. He hid his face in his hands and shook his head as he giggled, the sound more genuine than any of his other laughs. “Eejits! Te’ lot of ya’.” He chortled, which only caused Johnny to laugh even more.

“Yet y’laughed. Again.” Ghost chuckled, watching as the redhead looked at him through his fingers.

He hid the goofy smile behind his palms then shook his head slightly. “An’ I regret it immensely.” It was a lie, they could all tell from the way he hid his lip— hid his tell, but they didn't call him on it. Not yet anyways.

~~~~

The day would go by fairly quickly, and soon— after another half day of hiking— the night would come and the four men would settle down. Though as they ate, Crow set to work after grabbing a flattish rock to start digging a hole… much to the confusion of the other three. It was odd. Wolfhound had his…. quirks sure, but they never included digging holes like an actual dog.

“Oi, heathen,” Kyle laughed softly, lightly flinging a bit of soil in Crow's direction to get his attention. “What in t'bloody Hell are you doing, wolf?”

“Dakota fire hole. Keep who'ver's on watch warm while bein’ sneaky still.” The shorter man replied as he continued to dig out the main hole with practiced fervent motions. “G'get some nice dry wood and kindlin’ fer me.”

At the wave of his hand, and to humor his request, the three went to find the items near the campsite they had set up— which they managed to do rather smoothly, no thanks to the bitching that happened during the setting up of tents. Finding the dry pieces of wood was rather tedious as when Soap brought back some sticks, Wolfhound would feel their bark before looking to the Scot with a disapproving frown… only for it to turn into a playful grin when he noticed the pout on his friend's lips.

“A'said dry, MacTavish, nae fresh out th’ river!” The Irish sergeant teased as he jammed the sticks down into the hole to hollow out the tunnel that would feed air into the fire. “...jus’ kiddin’, mate. T'ese will do jus’ fine.” He chuckled when he noticed the frowning pout on the Scotsman's face.

With the help of the other three the Irishman was able to get a small, nearly smokeless, and completely out of sight fire going. He breathed out happily and then turned to look at the others. “I’ll take th’first watch, eh?” Crow offered, smiling gently to the others. “Get some rest, lads— I’ll wake th’lot of ya if somethin’ happens.”

13:04 August 2nd, 2022

“‘Ave you lads ever heard of th’ Dyatlov Pass incident? Took place further up in the Urals.” Crow’s voice called back to the three men as they walked down a particularly smooth grassy hill. The previous night had gone by relatively easily, and breakfast was just nice, seeing as they were able to actually heat it up since they fed the fire throughout the night— up until the Irishman buried it to leave no trace except loose dirt. “Happened back in 1959, nine people died from a few differn’ causes. Mostly hypothermia, some had blunt force trauma t’ough.”

“I think I’ve heard of it,” Kyle hummed as he trailed behind the ginger man. “Can’t say I know much onnit.”

“If it makes y’feel better, no one knew what caused it fer a while.” Crow mused, turning to walk backwards so he could look at Kyle. “Back t’en no one knew what could’ve killed them. Whether it be th’ Soviet military, fall winds, animals… hell some people even t’ought it was a supernatural force or t’ey all panicked due to a low-frequency sound.” He paused then smiled faintly. “Back in 2020 t’ough, th’ Russian government said it was an avalanche after openin’ up another investigation.”

“Why the hell d’ya know about this?” Simon asked with a faint chuff of a laugh.

“Looked it up when Cap’in first told us about t’is mission.”

“Did ya’ always look up things like this before a recon?”

“Nah, sometimes I jus’ know t’ings.” He boasted playfully. “Mostly about flora and fauna… but I keep m’eyes on some true crime stories… runnin’ inta cannibals is a fear o’mine.”

“Cannibals?” Ghost asked with a faint chuckle

“Aye, t’ey’re… uh kinda scary.”

“Well, go on then, puppy, give us a few facts about th’other things y’know.”

Wolfhound had to pause his backwards stride at Gaz’s voice, his eyes narrowing in faint disbelief— only to shoot an annoyed glare at Soap, who smiled proudly. ‘He’s put others up to this game now?’ It had been a common thing to hear from Soap, especially when Wolfhound started to come around a few months back, but he never would have thought he’d get the others in on it. “Is fuath liom tú.” He muttered out to the older man before shaking his head. ‘Smug bastard.’ But he could never deny liking the teasing, though before it had only been Soap calling him that— as far as he knew.

“Why in the bleedin’ hells ‘ave you lads started t’at, eh?” He asked with a scoff, turning on his heels to face forward and start walking down the hill once again when he felt a rush of warmth rise to his face.

“Ye like it,” Soap teased with a laugh. “...an’ it’s a play on yer nickname… truer than jus’ ‘Wolf’. An’ besides… we’re friends we gotta tease one anotha’.”

‘Yeah, friends..’ The Irishman pursed his lips slightly then threw his hands up slightly, almost in defeat before he let them drop down to his sides once again. He needed to change the subject not wanting to dwell on the ‘friendly’ teasing— even though he knew it wasn’t just a friend thing to call one another names like that, freckles sure but not puppy. “I…” He huffed and shook his head. “Yeah, I d’mind it.” ‘More than you’ll ever know.’

He was quiet for a few seconds feeling the wind against his face before he heard Gaz’s voice speak to him once again. “Whatta ‘bout those facts?” Which got him to think much more intently, specifically about what he knew about their general area.

“Th’ eurasian brown bear is Russia’s national animal… t’ey live in t’ese parts too.” Crow said, looking over his shoulder to the three men with an annoyed look to give them a sharp playful glare. “T’ere’s like… ova’ a hundred thousand of ‘em in this country. T’ey're unpredictable, an’ ye’ gotta be big an’ loud to scare ‘em off.” He chuckled, turning back around once he was sure that his blush had died down. “Like t’is.” Crow said, raising his arms over his head before letting out a short yell— to which it would have been longer if he didn’t stumble into a small divot in the soft grass.

The yell turned into a series of grunts and laughs as he toppled backwards, due to the extra weight of his backpack, and down the remainder of the hill. At first the three men were worried— well Soap and Gaz seemed worried, Ghost had to clench his jaw shut to not laugh at the sight— but hearing the man laugh as he tumbled down the hill eased their concerns.

“Oh you dumbass!” Kyle grumbled as he hurried down the hill followed by John, who was now laughing teasingly. The oldest of the sergeants made it to Crow’s position, watching the younger hold his sides as he laughed, while John managed to slip on the grass and join the other at the bottom of the hill. It was more like a series of giggles, but burrs and twigs, among many other small plant debris, had gotten tangled into his curly hair and some even stuck to his gear. Soap was no better, laughing and lightly pulling little bits of nature from his mohawk.

“Oi get up, y'knobheads.” Kyle laughed as he moved to gently nudge both men with the side of his boot, only to grab Crow’s hands when the younger man stuck them up in the air for assistance— lifting him off the ground, unlike Simon who playfully slapped John’s hands when he asked for help off the ground. The Irishman laughed as he was yanked off the ground and into the oldest sergeant’s arms, lightly clinging to him as he continued to giggle.

“Dinnae see th’ hole t’ere.” Wolfhound said as he lightly held onto one of Gaz’s arms to keep himself steady. “’aven’t rolled downa hill inna while… I t’ink I needed t’at.”

~~~~

That night Crow spent most of his time around the hidden fire pulling twigs and leaves from his hair, cursing playfully as he tossed the items into the fire pit while he listened to the others speak.

“I jus’ hope th’cap lets us head to the pubs after this mission,” Kyle groaned as he opened his MRE. “O’Neil said th’first round’s on him after all.”

“Yeah, jus’ th’ first, one rule t’ough.” The younger man chuckled as he continued his light grooming. “Has t’be a pub I choose.”

“Oh easy deal,'' came the other man’s reply. “You probably know better places t’go anyways, eh?”

Wolfhound shook his head lightly. “Nah, mate. Malakai did t’ough. He scouted out th’places we wen’ to.” He chuckled and tossed the last (hopefully) burr from his hair then reached to his vest to open one of the pockets. The Irishman would pull out a rubber band then slide it onto his wrist as he began to braid his hair back. “I’m… not a super heavy drinker really. Got scared outta it when I was a lil’ lamb. But communion wine is fine, I guess, heh..”

“Eugh, altar wine.” Soap groaned and shook his head as he took a bite from his meal. “That’s boakin’. I’d rather be a roaster than eva’ drink t’at shite again.”

“It ain’t too bad, now t’at I’m grown.” Crow admitted with a shrug and then smiled faintly, only to clear his throat slightly. “Bu’ yeah, Kai had a list of pubs t’at were top tier— I’m sure he wouldnae mind if I shared ‘em wit ya lads, hmhm.”

“Figured he’d come t’haunt us if he dinnae like sharing his bonnie lad wit us, few pubs won’t hurt.”

Simon shot a silent glare at John, while Kyle looked at him with a bit of warning— though Crow blinked and glanced over to the Scotsman as he finally tied his braid off with a faint hum. His smile had slowly faded to a faint frown, though he did not seem too upset and was rather in thought. He then nodded slightly before their lieutenant swatted the Scotsman upside the head.

“You troglodyte.” The older man hissed.

“Nah… Johnny-boy issa bit right… I jus’ never t’ought of it t’at way.” The Irishman replied slowly, then chuckled a little. While not expecting the conversation to go this way, it did remind him of what his therapist had brought up before. Malakai loved him, he would want him to be happy. “...he’d be happy t’share.”

His words seemed to surprise the other two sergeants, though the lieutenant seemed to just be relieved that the other did not get upset over John’s teasing and took it with some sort of stride.

“Yeah? Well… we’ll keep it in mind, red.” John chuckled softly and then nodded a little as Crow glanced to him, an unsure smile on his face.

“Save it fer t’ride back, yeah?”

11:53 August 3rd, 2022

“Alright, so, uh, what’s everyone’s favorite food? One that you’d kill for at th’ moment?” Gaz asked as the group made their way through a particularly rocky pass through the mountains they had to head through. A chill had begun to settle in the air as they continued their trek north. “I personally I’d murder for some bangin’ curry right now.”

“I’m cravin’ somethin’ sweet,” Soap chimed as he wet his lips with his tongue. “It’s t’ start of raspberry season… could go fer a cranachan bu’ some shortbread would do me ova’.”

“Shepherd's pie, ‘specially if it’s made wit venison or boar meat.” Wolfhound replied from the lead, stopping for a second to let the other three men catch up to him. He leaned against the rocky wall behind him then turned back to look at them.

It took Ghost a few moments to respond, though it seemed like he was really mulling over the question. “Hmm… might kill for a taste of human—”

“Absolutely not, ye shitehawk.” The Irishman squawked. “Yer fecked up.”

“Ah yer crabbit,” A boisterous laugh sounded from the Scotsman at the other Celt’s reaction, noticing the faint look of disgust— but in a fearful way almost. He clapped the shorter man on the back and gently grabbed at his sides as if he were mocking an eating motion. The light pinching seemingly tickled Crow with the way he jumped and tried to pull away. “Dinnae worry, Wolfhound, yer too sweet fer Ghost’s tastes.”

“He drinks too much coffee for my tastes.” Ghost corrected before moving to lightly swat John away from Crow. “Too bitter— ‘e’s more of Price’s taste, heh.”

“Yer not funny! Neither ov’ya.” The shorter man grumbled softly. “Least Kyle loves me ‘nough t’be nice t’me.”

“Aye,” The oldest sergeant mused, moving to wrap an arm around the smaller’s shoulders— sticking his tongue out at the other two while playfully shielding him. “I’ll keep these plonkers from nipping at yer bones, eh?”

“Yeah yeah,” The lieutenant chuckled before waving his hand dismissively. “...I’d actually like sushi… something with eel sauce. Or some sorta stew.”

“See… now that’s better than a bite outta our freckled friend— who may ‘er may na’ taste bitter or sweet.” The youngest of the four mused.

“Ye two are terrible,” Crow replied, feigning annoyance. “I hate ye both.” He shot a mock glare at John and Simon, only getting a few chuckles from both of them and a faint squeeze from Kyle.

“Hehe, ye know ye love us, pup.” Soap teased, reaching over to ruffle Wolfound’s messy braid— further messing it up. He could not help but chuckle at the way the smaller man’s nose scrunching up when he gave his half-attempted glare. Though when he put a bit of thought into it, it looked more like a pout. “Ye feckin cute, ye ken?”

“Oh, dún do bhéal!” The Irishman hissed, rolling his eyes as he ducked out from under Gaz’s arm so that he could continue heading north. “Told ye ta save it fer te’ ride back, when tis is all ova.”

It did not help the man's case when he seemed to blush at the faint teasing, having dealt with this sort of attitude for the past few days it really started to break down the walls he had put up after the death of his previous lover. Though, deep down, Crow did relish in the attention— truth be told he really needed it deep down but couldn't let it show, for as far as he knew Ghost and Soap were in a relationship while Gaz and Price were in their own.

"Oh come on, we've got ta' 'ave fun out here somehow, yeah?" Soap teased gently as he headed after Crow, followed by Ghost and Gaz who shook their heads in light amusement.

“Nah, yer just a collective group of dicks,” Crow barked back, only to huff quietly and grip the armstraps of his heavy travel pack. He stepped up onto a larger rock to start leading the group out of the rocky terrain as best he could. “...compliment obviously… I wouldn’ travel out ‘ere wit just anyone.”

“An’ ye feckin’ know ‘at.” John chuckled, grinning to himself as he watched the Irishman take the lead once again. The smaller man was agile, kept his balance rather well though at the faintest wobble, the younger sergeant moved forward. He did not hesitate to reach out, wrapping his hands around Crow’s waist in a simple attempt to keep him from falling backwards as he stepped up the rocks. “Yer lucky te’ rest a’ us are soo ‘elpful and handsome, eh?”

Kyle watched with a faint chuckle while Ghost shook his head slightly, though Crow seemed rather surprised at the sudden touch. He knew that even with his gear he weighed a little over one-hundred kilos— though he had to remind himself that he once saw the Scotsman lift more than his weight before in the gym.

Wolfhound turned slightly while looking to Soap for a few moments, only to roll his eyes and continue to lead the way. “Aye, I ‘spose it is always good ta’ ‘ave eye candy along side yer trail mix.”

Soap nearly choked on a quiet laugh at the sight of Crow’s eye-roll and ability to keep marching forward— though he could practically hear the flustered tone in the man’s voice. The thought alone would send him into hysterics, though he held back as he knew Crow would take any chance to shove him off a cliff if he stepped on his toes too much. He turned back to look at the other two men, raising his brows with a smile.

“Eye candy,” He snickered, then shook his head to follow after the older man.

"Shut up, ya git." Crow huffed back with a little pout, but he couldn't help but let out a little scoff that sounded a bit like a chuckle before continuing on. He knew it was all in good fun— but that did not mean that he could not have some fun himself. He gave Soap a small sideward glance before grinning to himself.

"Not my fault ye lads keep tryin' ta' get a rise out a me," he teased.

Soap could not help but snicker at the pout— not to say that it wasn't the most adorable thing, it just seemed so out of character for the smaller sergeant, though he was happy to see the man’s walls start to crumble. But the scoff followed by a light chuckle was the icing on the cake, making Soap almost wish he could have seen the expression that went along with it. He chuckled lightly himself, following closer beside Crow on their trek.

Crow continued to lead the other three men out of the rocks then turned to look at them slightly. Making sure they caught up before continuing on the way. Ghost was the last to pull himself out of the rocky terrain, but he was quick to catch up to the group and rejoin the circle, falling into a sort of rhythm with their pace. The only sounds were their own footsteps and the quiet shuffling of gear being pulled here and there. It was relatively quiet save for the natural sounds of the region, and it was obvious that John was starting to get a little fidgety.

~~~~~

"Ye ken," Soap started, falling into step beside the shorter man. The sun had begun her descent into the horizon— though it would be a few hours before she began to set when his voice broke the long, albeit comfortable, silence. "I've been thinkin’…”

“Dangerous game yer playin’ t’ere.” Wolfhound quipped, beating Ghost’s attempt

"Oi, quit it," Soap huffed in response, rolling his eyes at the typical cheeky response. "This is a serious question."

"When is anythin' you ask serious?" Ghost chimed in with a low chuckle, knowing full well where Soap was likely going with the question.

Gaz laughed softly and then gave a faint shrug. "They're right, suds."

The Scotsman shot a glare at the both of them, mostly for being right. But before he could come up with a smartass response, he felt a sharp pinch on the back of his arm— courtesy of Ghost, who gave him a smirk before gesturing for him to go on.

With a roll of his eyes and an annoyed huff, Soap turned back to Crow. "Right... I've been meanin' to ask... how long's it been fer ye... since the whole thing wit' your fiancé… yeh mentioned it, but neva said how long..”

"... he died last November? So it'll be 'round eight months given August just started?" He replied softly then shrugged faintly. "Some days it still feels like it happened yesterday." The Irishman then paused for a moment turning his head slightly to look up to the sky, then towards the horizon. He was quiet, though his faintly saddened expression turned to one of sheer focus. He was silent for a few seconds then he held his hand up to silence the other men.

"...shh...listen."

The men perked up at the sudden signal to be silent, and they almost spoke up but stopped just at the last minute, looking between each other with concentration. It took a few moments, but soon the faint sound of a helicopter came into range. The four of them exchanged looks with each other then ducked behind a large rock— huddling close together. Ghost and Soap crouched together while Gaz pulled Crow over to where they had ducked down, holding the man by his shoulder almost as if it was a subtle show of protection. The faint sound grew closer to their direction.

"Military?" Ghost mouthed to the group, his voice barely above a whisper when the helicopter began to fly overhead.

With precise movements Crow pulled his sniper from his back, though did not load it. Rather he aimed it towards the helicopter to look through his scope curiously. He eyed the soldiers' uniforms that were in the craft as it began to pass by, his brows furrowing slightly as he adjusted his scope to zoom in. As he watched the helicopter fly over he began to take a mental note of everything that he saw. The make and model, the size and style for how many passengers it could hold, and then finally, how heavily armed it was.

"Unmarked." He responded just as quietly. "It's not Russian… seems like an espionage..?”

“Whatever they are… means we’re heading in the right direction.” Gaz said quietly, lightly peeking over Crow’s shoulder while keeping his arm around Wolfhound’s shoulders. “Good catch, Wolf…”

Soap opened his mouth, as if to say something else, but just as quickly closed it when Ghost shot him a glare that said 'shut the hell up'. The group was silent for a few moments, but Ghost was the next to speak.

"We need to find somewhere to camp for the night. Re-check our gear... rest." Ghost said with a quiet tone. "If we keep pushing, then we risk running into them.”

“Rog, Lt.”

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verycorrectslugterraquotes · 6 months ago

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YOU'RE MESSING UP MY SCAM!

Sergeant Slug to Eli in “Club Slug”

#source: ed edd n eddy #slugterra #incorrect slugterra quotes #incorrect quotes #sergeant slug #eli #eli shane #mine #thick as an ed

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silverwings22 · 1 year ago

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Song of the Sea: Chapter 14: Singing Slug

Chapter Warnings: major injury, brief description of medical procedure, kidnapping, profanity, flashbacks to derogatory sexual language Series warning: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a.

Previous Chapter:

Next chapter:

"Shiani? Shiani?!"

Tech's voice was sharp as the siren opened her eyes, every inch of her already bruised body screaming in protest. She was laying face down on a pile of scrap metal, blinking and dazed. She didn't remember the landing or blacking out, only the terrifying fall through the darkness and her limbs being wrenched from around Tech in the shuffle. "T-tech?"

The metal beside her shifted and Tech was clambering on top of the pile to get to her in an instant. "Cyar'ika, are you alright?"

"I’m okay…" She wobbled when she sat up and he crouched beside her. "Where is everyone?"

"Omega and Hunter fell on the starboard side nearest the Marauder. They've checked in over comm." He smoothed a hand over her head gently. "Echo, Wrecker, and I were saved from serious injury by our armor."

Shiani didn't wear armor. When he didn't see her immediately after coming to, his first thought was a vision of her laying somewhere impaled on rebar or broken scrap. He'd been terrified. When they got out of here, he was building her some goddamn protection.

Shiani nodded, rubbing her head. "We hurry then… got to get out of here before Crosshair finds us."

He nodded. "You are right. He will be furious… he was injured in the engine blast."

Despite the fact he'd tried to kill them, Shiani clucked her tongue sympathetically. "Not himself. I’ll say sorry when he is."

"That is kind of you." Tech was feeling less than charitable about the sniper at the moment, and helped her to her feet instead of voicing his opinion. They hurried back to Wrecker and Echo, who both looked relieved to see the siren in one piece. Together, they moved around the husk of the Venator towards their own ship. Imperial troops were moving in, trying to set up a perimeter but being relatively quiet about it. Tech still had access to their comm channels and guided them through, almost home free when the crack of a shot rang out.

Shiani frowned, ear fins wiggling. "That didn’t sound right. Not a blaster."

Tech stiffened. "Then the only alternative is a slugthrower."

"Hunter's in trouble." Echo grabbed his own blaster and took off running.

The others followed suit, getting to the Marauder just as the Empire did. Hunter was laid on his back, not moving, and Shiani could taste the blood in the air before she saw the puddle of red growing under him. She skidded to the downed sergeant as the clones started firing at the Imperial troopers to cover her. "Hunter? Hunter?!"

He groaned weakly. "O-omega… he took her…"

"Shh." She slid her arms under his and started dragging him back towards their ship. "We’ll get her back. Don’t fall sleep." Her eyes darted up as she cleared the ramp and moved him to the medbay. "He’s been shot in the chest!"

"Shit." Echo hissed as Tech slid into the pilot's seat and they got off the ground. "I'll get the med kit-"

"No bacta." Shiani fumbled with the fasteners of the sergeant's armor. "Not yet. Go help Tech. Imperial fighters will come after us, and you’re the corporal. I’ve got Hunter."

Echo nodded, hurrying to assume command when she gave him a hard glance. "Wrecker, tailgun!"

Hunter looked bleary-eyed at Shiani as she dumped his helmet and chest plate on the floor. She pinned his arms and legs with her tentacles and leaned over, cupping her hands around her mouth and holding them over the bleeding wound in his chest. "Wh-what are you-"

"Singing." She muttered, then dropped her voice and hit a note he felt in his bones, blood, and between his eyes. His head dropped back on the table, chest screaming protests before a metallic tink echoed in the tiny med bay.

“What the fuck….?” He wheezed.

Shiani slipped an arm under his shoulders and sat him up. “Sorry, I gotta see you naked but it's for medical. Here, hold my tentacle. Squeeze if it hurts.”

Hunter just blinked at her as she pulled his blacks top off and finally grabbed the bacta, spraying him down and letting him squeeze as tightly as he wanted at the sting. Once he was doused, she wound gauze around him carefully and put him down gently on his back, shifting her approach from bossy to comforting for him. “You’re okay now. Just need to rest.”

“We have to find Omega…” He muttered faintly. “She’s just a kid… who knows who that bounty hunter is working for? Or what they want…”

“I promise, we’ll get Baby Mega back.” The siren breathed, watching the tattooed man resist rest like it was a person who’d deeply offended his entire bloodline. She leaned in and hummed a low not that made drop off into unconsciousness despite how hard he was fighting. She cleaned the blood off him and lay a blanket over his shirtless form, before plucking something from the table by his side.

The ship was spinning as Tech evaded a fighter shooting at them, and Shiani had to hold Hunter to the gurney to keep him from getting dumped off. “We have to make the jump.” Echo ordered.

“We have to find Omega!” Wrecker yelled back from the tailgun.

“We’re no good to her if Crosshair shoots us down! Make the jump, Tech!” Echo’s voice didn’t brook any arguments, and despite all their feelings it was the logical choice to make.

The Havoc Marauder lurched violently as they cleared the atmosphere and leapt into the eeriness of hyperspace, the silence only broken by the sound of everyone’s heavy breaths. Wrecker leaned over the tailgun controls, Echo putting his hand on the console of the bridge to steady himself. “S-sound off.”

“I’m okay.” Wrecker mumbled.

“I am unharmed.” Tech leaned a head around the cockpit door.

Shiani looked at her own balled up right fist. “I’m okay… Hunter will be okay. Baby Mega’s missing.” She extended her hand out to Echo as he walked over. When he extended his hand, she opened hers. A piece of deformed, mushroom-shaped metal the size of his pinky nail dropped into his palm, and the durasteel was still damp with red blood.

“What is that?” He blinked.

“Slug. From a slugthrower.” Shiani looked at it, sitting still and harmless in Echo's gloved palm. "I took it out of Hunter chest, before bacta. That's why I said wait, so we didn’t close the slug inside the wound."

Tech set the autopilot and walked over to her as she picked Hunter's helmet off the floor. “Shiani…”

She pushed the helmet into his hands before he could embrace her. "You can… review bucket-cam? See who took Baby Mega. We can catch him and get her back."

He nodded. "Excellent idea."

She nodded. "I’ll check on Hunter again. He’ll wake up soon… stubborn brother." She vanished back into the medbay as quickly as she'd come.

"She's in shock." Echo said softly when Tech looked stricken by her sudden departure.

"Yes… you are right." He was more speaking to himself than Echo, comforting himself at the sting of her rejection.

Echo was right. She was just in shock, this was a terrifying ordeal for a civilian. She'd be herself again eventually. Shiani loved him, he knew and accepted that… so why did he hear Crosshair’s voice mocking him again?

"What, you haven't fucked her yet? Afraid she'll swim off cause you turned out to be more of a freak than she is, or did you chicken out when you went to stick your dick in that goddamn mouth?”

No. No, he was not losing Shiani over that. Crosshair was wrong, just like he was wrong about the Empire, and Tech's only mistake had been talking to him one night when they'd both been a little too drunk to think the conversation through.

"I will go review the footage. We will see if Cid's contacts can help us locate whoever took Omega." He said softly. "I am not sure I believe in a divine, but if it exists… that bounty hunter is going to need it."

"Cid's contacts did manage to identify the bounty hunter. His name is Cad Bane." Echo poked Hunter into a seat before the stressed sergeant could reopen his wound by pacing around. "Nothing on who hired him, though."

"This is the second bounty hunter after her." Shiani was sitting, tightly coiled in the chair the girl usually occupied. "Why would somebody want a little girl? If we figure that out, we can figure out who hired Cad."

Tech held up his scanner. "I… may have a theory. I analyzed Omega's genetic signature when calibrating the chip scanner… she has pure, unaltered first-generation DNA."

"An unaltered clone… how many clones like that are there?" Hunter frowned.

"Planning to adopt more babies, Hunter?" Shiani frowned. The sergeant looked away sheepishly, indicating the thought had crossed his mind.

"Just one other. Alpha, later renamed Boba Fett."

"Prime's son." Echo frowned thoughtfully. "No one's seen him since he busted out of prison."

"Precisely. But he, or Omega, would be invaluable in restarting the Kaminoans cloning operation. For the Empire, instead of the Republic."

Shiani hissed softly, bursting into blue rings and covering her mouth with mouth hands. "Then that's the answer. Long-necks." It made her sick, but the anger soothed over her otherwise crippling fear. The long-necks took Omega, to hurt her like they'd hurt the sirens. She couldn't let that happen. "Can you track her comm?"

"I can try, but it will be complex if the device is disabled." Tech nodded

"You’re the smartest man in the galaxy. We’ll find her." The siren met his eyes. "I know you can do it."

Echo nodded. "I'll start trying to boost our long range scanners and see what we pick up. Hunter… stay put for the love of Manda. Wrecker, you're Hunter-sitting." The corporal headed to the bridge to work.

Wrecker sat beside Hunter as Shiani bowed her head, watching the siren think for a while. She looked so serious and upset, light-years away from the cheerful and bright eyed Shiani he knew. "You okay?"

"I need to be helping. I don’t know how." She muttered against her knees.

"You already did a lot. You saved Hunter's life." He pointed out. "None of us would have thought about the slug. We're used to blaster wounds… where'd you learn that, anyway?"

"Tech speaks Mando’a sometimes. I wanted to understand more… read about the language. Then history. Mandalorians used slugthrowers to fight Jedi lightsabers a long time ago. There were accounts of injured Jedi. I’m not squeamish, so I read that too." She looked up. “Couldn’t let it happen to Hunter.”

Wrecker reached out, putting a massive hand on her head. “See? You did a lot.”

“Not enough. Not until the family is all back together.” She looked at Hunter. He was even more worried than she was about Omega, which was impressive considering how her hearts seemed out of sync the longer the girl was missing.

Idly, she wondered if the others felt the same way about Crosshair’s absence.

Hunter leaned over a little and leaned against Shiani, brotherly comfort she hadn’t realized she needed until she was melting against his side and Wrecker pulled them both into a hug as gently as he could. “We’ll get her back, guys.” The big clone murmured faintly.

Shiani nodded, looking up at Tech’s back as he had returned to his spot in the pilot’s seat. As soon as everyone was safe, because she refused to accept that they wouldn’t be, she wanted to curl up against Tech’s chest and just cry her hearts out. But not until her meltdown wasn’t a distraction. Not until she was sure she wouldn’t cause him to make a mistake that lost them their precious little sister.

"I'm picking up something on the comm." Echo called.

"Hunter? …. -ho? Tech? Wreck-... -ani?" Omega's voice was broken up by static, but everyone lurched at their names.

"Omega?!" Hunter nearly dumped himself on the floor in an attempt to climb through the comm and get to her. "Omega, where are you?!"

"I'm not sure… facility… machines like Tipoca City…"

"I'm getting a read on the Lido system." Echo whispered. "The signal isn't strong enough."

"Omega, try to cause a power surge." Tech ordered, hooking his datapad up.

"Okay."

They waited in agonizing silence as the girl breathed through the static.

"I've got something." Tech started. Before he could explain, the comm started rustling and Hunter's skin prickled at the sound of Cad Bane's voice.

"Let me go! Hunter, I need you!"

"Omega!" The sergeant froze at a crunching sound that left the comm dead. "Where is she, Tech?"

"The signal is coming from Bora Vio." The genius ran for the cockpit again, setting the navi-computer. "Hold on."

Everyone braced as they lurched the correct direction. Shiani let Hunter squeeze the life out of her tentacles, teeth clenched.

We’re coming for you, Baby Mega. Hold on.

"Cloud coverage is not ideal." Tech muttered. Bora Vio was swathed in it, and even as Echo scanned for another ship signature they had only Omega's last known to go on. If the bounty hunter had moved her-

"Flying thing!" From the rear of the ship, Shiani was pressed against the tailgun glass. "Round pod!" She had no idea what to call it, but she could at least describe it.

"It's falling out of the sky. Scoop it up, Tech." Hunter ordered. Somewhere deep in his chest, he was sure she was on board.

Shiani came running out of the back, throwing Wrecker into a seat and yanking his lap bar down as Tech dove. Three tentacles suction cupped her to the wall, the fourth holding Hunter from going flying. Tech was a masterful pilot, and they locked the pod into place before it hit the ground.

The siren jogged to the hatch before Wrecker could get himself out of his seat and opened it, peeking in. "Baby Mega?"

"Shiani?!" A pair of terrified brown eyes looked up at her, the girl holding up still cuffed hands from inside the pod.

Shiani sat on the floor and stretched her tentacles down, wrapping securely around the little one's waist and hauling her up and into the air above the siren's head. "You hurt?"

"N-no…" Omega whimpered.

Shiani brought her down into comforting arms as she jettisoned the pod with her free limbs. "Shh. You’re safe now." Her claw dug into the lock of the cuffs, tripping the mechanism until they popped open. "There. Better?"

"Y-yeah… thank you…"

Shiani carried her into the front of the ship, setting Omega on her feet delicately. The blonde immediately ran to Hunter, who winced when she collided with his injury but hugged her back anyway. "We got you. You're okay now." He whispered, all the fight melting from his exhausted body.

"Why is this happening? What do they want from me?" She whispered.

"You've got to tell her, Hunter." Echo sighed.

While Hunter knelt slowly to explain what Tech had discovered about her genetics, Shiani ran to the cockpit. Tech was turned around in the pilot's seat, having set the nav, and was watching the reunion with his usual detached expression. The kid was safe, everything else was okay…

He looked up at Shiani as she approached, expression giving nothing away. "Yes?"

"You okay with touching right now?" She whispered.

He nodded curiously, and was surprised when she simply climbed into his arms and buried her face in his shoulder. "Are you alright, cyar'ika?"

"I was so scared." Her teeth chattered. "It's over now, don't have to… pretend to be brave now. Can I just have a hug? I hated all of that."

His arms wound tightly over her. "I am here." Relief flooded him. She'd been propping herself up, not running. Echo had been right. "I've got you."

Safe in his arms, Shaini pressed her cheek to his chest and finally sobbed out the terror of it all. The Empire, Crosshair, the gunshot wound in Hunter's chest, the loss of Omega… no, she wasn't a soldier like them. But she was part of this family now, and that came with a monumental amount of uncertainty. At least she had Tech, her very best friend in the entire galaxy.

"Come on. Let's get back to your bed… I will stay with you for a while. It will be almost a full rotation back to Ord Mantell." Tech picked her up and carried her to their bed. He was happy to support her now, and keep her to himself a little while.

He’d been scared too, but it was easier to get comfort from her under the guise of giving it.

#explict #original character #clone force 99 #the bad batch #fanfic #tbb tech #star wars #oc shiani illumai

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sloshed-cinema · 1 year ago

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Full Metal Jacket (1987)

François Truffaut once claimed that a true anti-war film is impossible. Perhaps. All of cinema is exploitation, so I think that’s a silly hill to die on when looking at earnest efforts in the genre. But even if that is true, Stanley Kubrick is the best of the bunch at making them. I count at least four from his brief filmography among this loose can(n)on. If Paths of Glory deconstructs the construct of “courage,” if Barry Lyndon emphasizes that warfare has been the plaything of the elite since time immemorial, if Dr Strangelove underlines emphatically the insanity of it all, this is the most cynical entry. Warfare is a fetish. Men grasp both of their pieces at the behest of a surrogate father figure in a homoerotic situation all while faggotry is the highest of all crimes. A man is at his best when he is an instrument of war and serves his purpose in killing both himself and his commanding officer. You can scream all you want but you’re still some dumb asshole with a slug in your chest at the end of the day. Men are meat and ideology is meaningless. If Vietnam was the most pointless war for Kubrick’s generation, this is his most comprehensive statement in the matter.

There’s something about the cross-fades and general abruptness in the editing which renders this all the more effective. Nothing matters. Scenes simply fade away, both cementing the drumming down on the recruits and building up their indoctrination and rendering utterly meaningless anything that happens onscreen. Acts of violence are half carried out, simply vanishing before the eye. Who fucking cares? This man lies dead, but it doesn’t matter. These killing machines are just doing their job. The film gives the impression that it doesn’t care, but the attention to detail is still there: at any key point of conflict between Hartman and Lawrence, Joker is also present in frame, implicated in his guilt in some form or other. While other directors might disguise their hard-on for violence in a so-called anti-war film, this one seems genuinely exhausted and baffled by everything that unfolds onscreen.

THE RULES

SIP

Someone says 'rifle' or 'shit'.

Pvt Pyle fucks something up.

A platoon member dies.

BIG DRINK

The drill sergeant delivers an insult that makes you actually snicker.

#drinking games #full metal jacket #war #drama #stanley kubrick #matthew modine #vincent d'onofrio #r lee ermey #one of the baldwins

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halloweeneveryday · 1 year ago

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Check point

Not sure if you guys would want to hear an asian story but I thought it’s worth sharing. This was told by my dad when I was 12. Even now, when I ask him about the story, he can remember every vivid detail like it just happened last week.

My dad was in the police force for 20 years and when we just a rookie, he had to conduct nighttime roadblocks meant to catch drunk-drivers.

They had done it many times before and this night started routine enough for them. That was until this Toyota Corolla drove up to them with what looked like a white blanket on its roof, flapping in the wind.

They thought it was weird but did not see anything amiss about it. One of them even joked that this guy was multitasking by drying his laundry and driving home at the same time.

The laughs stopped when the lone car came closer and all of them saw what looked like a woman in white lying face down on top of the car. The woman seemed to slide like a slug backwards until she disappeared behind the car as it eventually came to a stop in front of them.

It took a few minutes for my dad’s team to re-compose themselves as they stared at each other as if to say “you guys saw that right?”.

The most senior of them finally stepped up and shot the usual questions to the driver. There was a noticeable quiver in his voice as he made conversation and asked him to step out of the vehicle. My dad’s team inspected the whole vehicle, including the boot and found nothing strange in it.

The driver was a good-looking Staff Sergeant in the army who was heading home from a company event earlier that night and admitted to have had a few cans of beer. He said he laid down in his bunk to sleep it off, hence why he was driving home at that time (it was 4am).

He passed their sobriety test and they started to ask him if he saw anything weird during his drive. Initially he said no but after more questioning, he mentioned that he had to swerve to avoid what looked like a bird that was flying upside down. It was spooky but didnt think that was a detail worth sharing with police officers.

The senior then told the guy to chill out at a 24-hour coffeeshop before heading home (the locals believe that if a malevolent spirit follows you, making a pitstop confuses them so they can’t set up shop in your house). After some confusion of his own, the driver finally caught on and nodded in agreement.

After the guy leaves, they call in to the station and cut the night short. Never knew what happened to the driver, hope he’s alright.

source: https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/7wrbns/comment/du2xkm6/

#halloween everyday #halloweeneveryday #my life is creepy #haunted #ghosts #haunting #ghost #mylifeiscreepy #paranormal #supernatural

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thesilliestrovingalive · 3 months ago

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Updated: May 27, 2025

Reworked Character #23: Rumi Aikawa

POTENTIAL TRIGGER: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to drug addiction, SA, sexual harassment, death, and torture.

Real name: Rumiko Aikawa

Alias: Wandering Ghost

Occupation: Sergeant, battle supplier, and nurse of the Regular Army and Honorary Corporal of the Intelligence Agency

Retirement plans: To start a charity that helps families in need of medical care and open a car garage

Special skills: Running, piloting helicopters, excellent visual acuity, knowledge of paramedicine, and proficiency in food rationing and car repairments

Hobbies: Collecting floral accessories, making homemade ice cream, swapping photos on ID cards, organising the supplies in her backpack, and naming every animal she encounters on her walks

Likes: Reading supernatural horror manga and simplistic poetry during a picnic on a sunny day, using underhanded tactics against enemies, peaceful strolls with Clark, pleasure walks, and Madoka

Dislikes: Bleakness, dangerous animals, accidentally headbutting people, starving and sick soldiers, and being confined in an empty and spacious room

Favourite food: Manneken waffles and chicken nanban

Sexuality: Questioning

Gender: Female

Age: 25 (in 2022), 31 (in 2028), 33 (in 2030), 35 (in 2032), 37 (in 2034), 44 (in 2041), 46 (in 2043), 47 (in 2044), and 50 (in 2047)

Blood type: AB+

Weight: 106 lbs. (48 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 2” (157.48 cm) Japanese ectomorph with a rectangular body shape, sloping shoulders, subtle muscle tone, and slightly curvaceous breasts and hips. She originally had honey brown hair styled with tight, dramatic, oversized corkscrew curls that reached halfway down her back, paired with layered sides featuring voluminous waves that fell just below her bust. She had tanned rose beige skin, and her eyes were a sparkling blue-green. After her digital consciousness was transferred into a cybernetic body, due to her human body suffering irreversible damage, she underwent slight physical changes. Her new form features pale ivory skin, a black mole beneath her right eyebrow, and brownish freckles scattered across her face, neck, and hands. She has seemingly lifeless, heterochromatic eyes: her right eye is a leaf green, while her left eye is a sky blue. While her hairstyle is the exact same as Rumi's Metal Slug Attack portrait, her hair is a sandy blonde hue.

Her synthetic flesh retains the same scars as her old body, a reminder of her clumsiness and combat ineptness. Her lower legs are scarred with scrapes, while her thighs and upper arms are marred by numerous self-inflicted cuts. Her upper back and buttocks are covered in whip marks and knife cuts. Additionally, she has a slightly curved scar that extends from the middle of her levator scapulae muscle to the top of her thyrohyoid membrane.

When working as a nurse, Rumi wears a sterile white scrub top and a nurse's cap bearing a scarlet red cross. She dons Munsell purple cargo shorts that reach mid-thigh and are secured by a black belt with a silvery white snap-on buckle. On her right upper arm, she dons a Persian orange armband displaying the Regular Army logo. Her outfit is completed with black knee pads, Persian pink mid-calf socks, and fern green paratrooper boots with khaki laces.

When working as a battle supplier, Rumi wears a khaki blouse with rolled up sleeves and two breast pockets, tucked into a pair of mid-thigh maroon cargo army shorts. A rufous belt with a silver buckle secures her cargo shorts around her waist, and a walkie-talkie is tucked into the left pocket. She also wears the same armband as her nurse uniform, knee-length mindaro socks, forest green wristbands, and spike-soled rufous paratrooper boots, secured with bone-white laces.

When working as a fighter, Rumi wears E-Armour, a dark brown drop-leg holster for her electrical baton, and rugged, low-profile black combat boots featuring grippy soles. She wears khaki beige tactical gloves with grip palms, secured by forest green wristbands. Her black utility belt holds a holster for her Hamada Type II semi-automatic pistol, a sheath for her combat knife, eight mocha pouches for 7.65mm Browning cartridges, and a Persian orange waist pack containing flashbangs and her walkie-talkie. She wears a medium-sleeved maroon shirt and cargo army pants featuring an asphalt black, dirty grey, cordovan, and raw umber camouflage pattern. She accessorises with the same armband from her nurse and supplier uniforms.

She always carries an enormous forest green load-bearing backpack full of essential supplies, including maps, food rations, ammunition, and weapons. The backpack features two large side pockets, each adorned with scarlet square patches bearing a white cross emblem. It contains a mechanic's toolbox, a first-aid kit, a bottle full of Captagon oral tablets, a russet-and-fallow teddy bear wearing a Cobalt blue business tie and missing its left arm, and the same canteen of water featured in Rumi's Metal Slug Tactics portrait.

She wears a tang blue tube bra and panties, and has two hololith bracelets: the right wrist features a thick bluish-white band, while the left wrist has a thinner redwood one. She occasionally wears a Hawaiian flower lei around her neck, adorned with ten artificial peach blossoms. Her ponytail is secured with a sage green hairband, which features two artificial Viola mandshurica on the left side.

Character summary: She's known for being boisterous and talking incessantly, both on and off duty, and isn't afraid to sass back to superior officers when she thinks they're being too harsh. This often irritates some people, who shut her down immediately, like Marco, or ignore her because they can't stand the constant chatter, like Eri. However, others like Tarma and Fio are more tolerant, even finding occasional amusement in her passionate and rambling monologues. They're either desensitised to her talkative nature and sassy attitude or know how to respectfully put her in her place when she goes too far. She appreciates it when people genuinely listen to her and engage in conversation as she often feels like she's having one-sided discussions.

She struggles with kenophobia (fear of empty spaces), agoraphobia, severe abandonment issues, and unresolved trauma. She's mentally exhausted, cynical about the world around her, and bitter as she struggles to come to terms with a couple of lingering regrets. Rumi is prone to misery and guilt whenever she makes a mistake with lasting consequences. She's emotionally sensitive and cries easily when feeling scared and overwhelmed, but she makes an effort to conceal this vulnerable side from others. Due to the trauma she suffered during the Arms Deal Barrage and Great Morden War, she has secretly developed an addiction to fenethylline, never daring to share her struggle with others for fear of ostracism. Although she's trying to distance herself from it, the stimulant's effects—heightened confidence, physical performance, and alertness—are traits she highly values as a soldier and agent striving for excellence.

She does her best to keep her personal problems from getting her down, often appearing bright, cheerful, and happy-go-lucky. She often has a gentle smile plastered across her face, and she's very outgoing and extroverted. Although she often comes across as blunt and a bit abrasive, she's actually a thoughtful and caring person with a genuine concern for the health and well-being of her family, friends, and comrades. She'll selflessly put herself in harm's way to protect her loved ones and fight alongside her comrades in the most desperate of times. She's remarkably generous, readily offering assistance to those in need and providing vital supplies to her comrades in times of desperation. Notably, she has even been known to extend aid to her enemies, particularly when they're genuinely struggling, demonstrating her compassionate nature and recognition of their shared humanity.

She always becomes very embarrassed and anxious whenever she gives away certain supplies to the enemy and is quickly discovered by her allies. When this occurs, she manages to avoid suspicion by acting terrified and feigning innocence, insisting that the enemy forced her to give up valuable supplies. On Valentine's Day, both enemies and allies know her for giving out free chocolate treats that she bought herself to anyone she encounters.

She’s a handy mechanic who can be somewhat reckless and impatient at times, particularly when faced with excessive waiting periods, but overall, she remains cautious and tolerant. She's a bit of a klutz, often finding herself tripping over her own feet, randomly falling on her butt or accidentally headbutting people when she's in the process of standing up. She's a people-pleaser with a strong work ethic, but this sometimes gives way to a slightly egotistical streak. She tends to view herself as more hard-working than others and believes she plays a crucial role in the survival and successes of the Regular Army soldiers and Intelligence Agency agents. She's generally adaptable to change and is quick to apologise when she recognizes her mistakes. She likes pretty flowers and gentle animals, but is anxious around dangerous ones, which remind her of intimidating people.

She has a habit of adding the Japanese honorific "-san" to inanimate objects, believing that they should be treated with care and respect. She tends to drool in her sleep and has a habit of sleeping with three blankets, regardless of the temperature. She has a habit of trying to make dramatic entrances, but they never seem to go as planned. Due to her absent-mindedness and poor sense of direction, she frequently becomes disoriented on the battlefield, often wandering aimlessly. She's extremely loyal to the Regular Army, rarely questioning their motives, and dedicated to aiding them in their successes and protecting confidential information.

She has impressive arm strength, capable of tossing multiple grenades with ease from a distance, a skill she takes great pride in. She's not a very competent fighter and often resorts to nervously flailing her arms when in close combat. However, when she's deadly serious and very focused, she can fight exceptionally well, particularly by utilising knife fighting, grenade tactics, and exploiting her enemies' physical vulnerabilities to her advantage. She possesses superior stealth abilities compared to most of her comrades, rivaling those of Clark, Red Eye, and Tequila.

She looks up to Clark as a father figure and appreciates the support he provides, making her feel cherished. Whenever he's available, she enjoys talking to him for hours about various topics and listens intently as Clark shares stories about his day and imparts his knowledge on different subjects, gained from library books and personal experiences. Interestingly, Rumi sometimes confuses Clark with her former friend, Alexander Suvorov, due to their similar physical appearance and the fatherly energy they both possess.

She maintains a strong friendship with Red Eye, whom she deeply admires for her exceptional skills as a seasoned S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. agent, drawing inspiration from her to become a better military woman herself. Her bond with Shufen is particularly strong as she has grown extremely fond of this personality. She finds it challenging to connect with Ruoxi due to her extreme trust issues and her initially aloof and ruthless treatment. However, she respects Ruoxi for giving her a chance and showing a more empathetic and tender side. As for Liddy, she gets along with her reasonably well, although she often finds her mischievous and hedonistic tendencies frustrating.

She’s on good terms with Celaphios, appreciating his willingness to listen to whatever is on her mind. However, she only shares conversations about her day and personal experiences with him because she doesn’t want to cause unnecessary concern. Rumi is grateful that Celaphios is willing to aid her in distributing supplies to deployed soldiers and fight alongside her when she needs it the most. She deeply cares about her older sister, Madoka, and enjoys spending time with her by going on nature walks, frequenting restaurants, and visiting amusement parks. She’s worried about her health, especially when Madoka is deployed on the battlefield or hasn’t been seen or heard from for a couple of days. She views her as glamorous and won't tolerate anyone who shamelessly insults her. She always helps her out, no matter what, even when Madoka is completely intoxicated.

Backstory: Rumiko Aikawa was born on January 18, 1997 in Kyoto, Japan. A month before she was born, her parents divorced for reasons that were never disclosed, possibly due to a strained relationship. As a result, she never knew her father. Her mother, Honoka, avoids discussing him, seemingly wanting to erase him from her memory. Rumi and Madoka spent their childhood in a small apartment, a one-hour bus ride from their school. Honoka worked tirelessly to provide for her daughters, taking on multiple part-time jobs that offered decent pay, even if it meant commuting long distances to earn a good income. Although she rarely had time to spend quality time with her daughters or help them with school, she made the most of the free time she had, teaching them valuable life lessons and essential skills like cooking and doing laundry.

At the age of 10, she developed a fascination with the inner workings of everyday items. She would frequently disassemble and reassemble toys and appliances, carefully observing their distinct mechanical components. Rumi can vividly recall the time when Honoka came home and walked into the kitchen to see her taking apart the toaster and Madoka cleaning the dirty parts. Her mother was very displeased, stating that their toaster was expensive and would be difficult to replace at a decent price. She confidently told her mother that she could fix it and easily reassembled the toaster in under an hour, while Honoka was getting settled. Later, when making breakfast for dinner, Honoka went to use the toaster to toast some bread and was pleasantly surprised that it worked properly. From then on, she never doubted Rumi's repair skills again.

Her family's new neighbour, a U.S. immigrant who lived across the hall from their apartment, turned out to be a car mechanic. According to her, his name was Phil, a caring, passionate, and introspective person seeking work in Japan. When he discovered Rumi's fascination with mechanical complexity during a conversation with Honoka, he began teaching her basic car repair skills, including how to fix a car engine.

A month after her 13th birthday, her mother developed heart failure, forcing her to reduce her work hours and rely on Madoka and Rumi for support. Inspired by Madoka's dedication to caring for Honoka and her determination to keep their mother alive, Rumi went out of her way to earn money, mainly by babysitting neighbours' pets or young children. At 16, she became involved in her school's tutor program, which provided her with an opportunity to earn extra money. As her older sister's physical health declined near the end of high school, Rumi took on various odd jobs to support her family's well-being. After graduating, she enrolled in a university paramedicine program, hoping her knowledge would help her family. However, the high costs of tuition and living expenses forced her to drop out after 10 months.

As things grew desperate and she worried that the health of her mother and Madoka was deteriorating rapidly, she made the decision to join the Regular Army, hoping they might be able to accommodate her. She enlisted in the Regular Army, so that Honoka and Madoka can make use of their medical facilities for treatment. However, a paperwork error during training led to her unexpected deployment to the frontlines in Iraq. Despite being under-trained, she proved herself by covertly capturing resources from enemy forces and redistributing them to Regular soldiers. She also repaired tanks that had sustained minor damage and provided first aid to numerous Regular soldiers. She emerged from the battle unscathed, and her actions caught the attention of Chris Key, Captain of the Intelligence Agency.

Chris Key, a British immigrant residing in Vietnam, was a member of an organisation that advocated national liberation in South America. He invited her to join the Intelligence Agency, and she eagerly accepted. She quickly formed a close friendship with Chris, who also mentored her in military matters. She soon came to admire him greatly, noting that he possessed a will of iron and would stop at nothing to achieve his objectives. Chris also played a role in shaping Rumi's brighter and more cheerful personality, emphasising that an optimistic mindset and a pleasant smile can be incredibly powerful.

Upon completing her training, she requested to serve as a supplier and nurse, a role unexpectedly approved. Since then, she has packed her army-issued backpack with an incredible amount of supplies, delivering them to friendly forces on the battlefield with the hopes of aiding in their victory. However, due to being horrible at remembering directions, she often wanders off to anywhere there's a path and seemingly appears and disappears out of thin air. This has led to a few unfortunate encounters with enemies. Fortunately, she usually escapes unharmed. On occasion, if she notices her adversaries struggling to survive, she secretly provides them with a few essential supplies. As a nurse, she regularly tends to hospitalised Regular soldiers and even special forces operatives, ensuring they return to top physical condition.

During the Arms Deal Barrage, she was deployed to the frontlines by Donald Morden to provide essential supplies to Red Eye and Tequila, who were facing shortages of food rations and ammunition. Upon arriving at Mt. Snow, a snowy, mountainous region serving as the fortified lines for the Serapion Fellowship, she became disoriented, having forgotten the directions provided by Morden. While looking at the map and frantically searching for Red Eye and Tequila, she was ambushed by a small group of masked soldiers, who destroyed her walkie-talkie.

She was imprisoned in a spacious but unheated hut and subjected to torture, including cutting, threatening to slit her throat open, and inappropriate touching, in an attempt to extract information about current Regular Army operations. She withstood the interrogation for hours, refusing to reveal any confidential information, until her captors eventually gave up. They then stole some of her supplies and locked her inside the hut. After a Frontal Attack was performed with the SV-000 to break open the hut, she was rescued by Red Eye and Tequila. In return, she gave them the supplies they desperately needed. Out of immense gratitude, she gifted Tequila E-Armour and provided a new one to Red Eye, replacing her well-worn and damaged one.

Following the events of the Arms Deal Barrage, she was promoted to Private. Her superiors recognised her invaluable support for Red Eye and Tequila as well as her bravery in maintaining secrecy to ensure the success of their attack on the Serapion Fellowship. This is also when she met Alexander Suvorov, 1st Lieutenant of the Intelligence Agency, after she accidentally headbutted him in the cafeteria and apologised. Alexander politely accepted the apology, but sternly and vaguely warned her to be careful next time. She learned from Chris Key that when he was a 2nd Lieutenant, he suffered an incident in which he was betrayed by a fellow agent and close friend, making him extremely distrustful of humanity. As a result of this, he wasn’t able to form a team with anyone and was transferred to the Intelligence Agency, where he achieved numerous achievements through his solo espionage activities. He reassured her that he’s a very kind and compassionate guy, but it would take some time to earn his trust.

Six months prior to the Great Morden War, she forged a friendship with Alexander, although it was a bit strained due to his mistrust of unfamiliar individuals. She held him in high esteem as a highly skilled agent, a proud and courageous leader, and a paternal figure. She discovered that he was a Russian immigrant who had relocated to the United Kingdom in pursuit of a better life. One week into the Great Morden War, Rumi, Chris, Alexander, and eight seasoned Intelligence Agency agents received a mission to identify the locations of civilians and allies being exploited as human shields. This unethical tactic, orchestrated by General Morden, involved the Rebel Infantrymen capturing and strategically positioning innocent individuals in the line of fire, effectively deterring the Regular Army from launching any reckless attacks.

However, Rumi's team was assigned to an operation where they would disguise themselves as working-class civilian POWs to provide support to allies on the frontlines. The operation was delayed when the disguised Intelligence Agency agents were ambushed and captured by Rebel Infantrymen, and subsequently thrown into a prison camp. Chris devised an escape plan, but Alexander cautioned him that one of the captives was a Rebel spy, prompting everyone to exercise extreme caution. To uncover the spy's identity, Chris ordered everyone to salute. Rumi quickly identified the spy, noticing their hesitation to comply. The group successfully apprehended the spy, binding them with rope, with Alexander speculating that they might be a brainwashed rookie.

After escaping the prison camp undetected, they found themselves still trapped in enemy territory. Rumi sensed that their return to friendly territory would be challenging as the heavily guarded iron bridge was their only viable option. In a desperate bid for cover, they used a hollowed, abandoned tank spotted by Chris and Rumi. They made a break for the bridge, dodging sniper fire and explosions along the way. Having successfully crossed the bridge unscathed, they soon realised they were still stuck in enemy territory with the Rebel Army's movements growing increasingly busy.

Chris had the opportunity to part ways with his comrades and resume his original mission, but he felt that would be unwise, given the strong bonds he had formed with them. However, Rumi and Alexander were forced to bid farewell to Chris and the others as they had received new mission orders. Before departing, they wished their friends a safe return and hoped that their paths would cross again once the operation was over. Rumi, Alexander, and a handpicked group of Regular soldiers adopted similar working-class civilian disguises and intentionally surrendered to the Rebels. Their mission was to gather vital information on enemy operations and serve as a location point for Marco's team. However, after a week in captivity, Rumi got tired of waiting for Marco’s team to arrive and rallied the group to leave.

Alexander stopped Rumi, accusing her of being a reckless and giddy idiot, but she retorted, confident that she could find Marco's team. She ran off towards where she thought Marco's team was, sincerely hoping they were not far. However, she ended up going in the wrong direction and walked into the Rebel's side of the battlefield. She would be reunited with Chris and five Intelligence Agency agents, who were badly injured after being viciously attacked by drug-crazed Rebel Army fanatics that killed and cannibalised three of their comrades. A group of Rebels on patrol in the area took notice of their presence and managed to corner them by scaring them off with gunfire, explosive cacti, and grenades. They would be captured and imprisoned in an abandoned warehouse that the Rebels were using as a strategic location. Before interrogation began, they managed to get their hands on Alexander and his group, who had taken notice of Rumi's strange absence and went out to rescue her.

They were ruthlessly tortured as the Rebel Army desperately sought to extract vital information that would aid them in their fight. Despite the brutality, they remained firm in their dedication to protecting the Regular Army's confidential information. The Rebel soldiers' torture methods escalated to genital mutilation, breaking fingers, aggressive beatings, and whipping. Rumi was then forced to witness the gruesome execution of her two friends: Chris was shot in the head at point-blank range and Alexander was beheaded with a machete. At this point, the Rebels grew tired of the silence and decided to exploit Rumi and four captured comrades to alleviate their boredom and vent their hatred for the Regular Army. She suffered severe injuries, including head trauma from being struck against a wall three times, a broken left arm, and severed feet. Additionally, she was subjected to starvation and dehydration on two occasions and was raped multiple times.

After a couple of torturous weeks, Rumi and her surviving comrades were rescued by the Magpies, who slaughtered their tormentors and called for immediate medical care. They were then escorted out of the abandoned warehouse by a group of nearby Regular soldiers and transported to the medical facilities at the Joint Military Operations Headquarters. She received medical care, being heavily bandaged, with each wound thoroughly cleaned. She was surprised to have survived the atrocities she endured, but the cost was high: losing two good friends, a burden she strongly felt responsible for. She couldn't help but wish she could turn back time and stay by Alexander's side instead of acting recklessly.

Madoka and her mother visited Rumi, who was showing some physical improvement, but they were shocked and devastated by her crippled state. Later, Marco, Tarma, Eri, and Fio came to see her, visibly upset by her ordeal and their hatred for the Rebel Army burned deeper as a result. Rumi recalled Marco telling her that he couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt for not meeting up with her and Alexander because his team was being pursued by Rebel Infantrymen. He also expressed frustration that their superiors hadn't informed them that Rumi's group had been sent to provide backup. Marco and Tarma delivered the news that Red Eye had been killed by General Morden, sending Rumi's emotional turmoil into overdrive.

Determined to keep one of their best nurses and suppliers alive, the Regular Army higher-ups obtained consent from Rumi and her family to give her a second chance at life. They then ordered their scientists and engineers to design a reliable cyborg body, which would be provided to Rumi once it was completed. To ensure her efforts weren’t in vain, she received a dual promotion: Corporal of the Regular Army and Intelligence Agency. After almost three weeks, Rumi's digital consciousness would be updated before being transferred to her newly finished cyborg body. She described her new body as feeling liberating and was overjoyed that she could move again. However, her trauma remained, and it was overwhelming, causing her to try to clear her mind by appearing more jovial. Unfortunately, she would soon develop an addiction to fenethylline, a mistake she deeply regrets. Her superiors offered her the opportunity to resign and return to civilian life, but she declined, believing she had passed the point of no return.

During the Extraterrestrial Alliance Clash, she was deployed in Riyadh before being kidnapped by the Arabian Infantry. They placed her inside a 3-Ton Utility Truck, where the Rebels used her as a temporary pack mule. She had a brief encounter with Abul Abbas, who attempted to woo her. However, she rejected his advances, bluntly telling him off, and he subsequently left her alone. Rumi was freed by Marco's new team and Hyakutaro, whom she supplied with weapons and ammunition. Later, she was deployed at the Ajirabian Ruins as Marco's team was running low on food. However, she got lost and ventured deep into the ancient pyramid. Eventually, she was found, provided Marco's team with the supplies they needed, and was then redirected to a nearby group of Regular soldiers who required medical aid.

She was dispatched to resupply Marco's team with weapons and explosives because they had depleted their ammunition and bombs. She made a swift stop to aid them, providing them with bombs, Heavy Machine Guns, and Laser Guns during their intense battle against the Dragon Nosuke. Additionally, she handed over two gas canisters when their Slug Flyer and SV-001 unexpectedly ran out of fuel mid-fight. After completing her mission, Rumi returned to the Regular Army Helicopter to await further orders on her next deployment. She was deployed in New Godokin City, where she entered a subway tunnel. There, she encountered two intoxicated, gossiping Rebels who sexually harassed and catcalled her. She defended herself, using her combat knife to inflict lethal injuries by targeting the major veins located on the neck. She was later found by Marco's team, who redirected her to locate Division 6 and ensure their safety.

She was deployed to a South Pacific island owned by the Peregrine Falcons Squad to oversee the final training of their latest cadet batch, ensuring a smooth and uninterrupted process, free from potential Rebel disturbances. She was also authorised to provide assistance to any struggling cadets she encountered. However, her mission took an unexpected turn when she became lost in the jungle. There, she had a brief encounter with Logan, who initially attempted to kill her but ultimately spared her life, deeming her a waste of time. She also reluctantly provided food and medical aid to a contingent of starving and ailing Rebel Infantrymen, led by Ferdinand, who had also become lost in the jungle.

Once the Survival Island Occupation began and Division 6 arrived at the archipelago, Rumi decided to join the fight. Rumi proved herself to be a capable fighter while also serving as the primary supplier and medic for her comrades. During the mission to secure the base storing the Cabracan, she conducted reconnaissance to gather intel on enemy positions. However, she became disoriented and inadvertently stole food from the Rebel Army's special forces. Following the successful completion of the Survival Island Occupation, Rumi was promoted to Sergeant of the Regular Army.

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