poisonheadcrabsalesman · 9 months ago
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The Question
For @bellygunnr. I asked him for a prompt, he delivered, and it devolved into this. This questions can destroy friend groups so tread carefully. Here's 1700 words of Roland making Miller's life hard ft guest appearances by some of our Fireteam Crimson.
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Miller was enjoying a cup of coffee in one of the messes when Roland popped up. Key word: was.
Fresh coffee too, barely scorched to the bottom of the carafe, with liquid (!) not powder creamer. And then Roland had to come ruin his morning.
"Spartan Miller, Fancy meeting you here!" Roland says with a flourish of his avatar. He's grinning like he's already pulled one over on Miller. His mood and coffee sour instantly and he swallows with a grimace.
Miller takes a full second to debate how to respond. He opts to save himself the trouble and cut through the mind games. "Morning, Roland."
The words are drawled over the rim of the mug, his one shield between them, as Miller leans on the counter and waits. He's punished for his patience as Roland smiles at him. He doesn't like the smile.
"I heard something that certain crew members were talking about-" Oh no. "-something of a philosophical debate, and I wanted your opinion on it."
"Uh huh..." He takes his time. Roland's grin does not falter. Miller doesn't like that. If he's not so impatient to hurry him along then he's already decided on the outcome. He's just here to fuck with him and it is too early for that. "This isn't another body part conversation, is it?"
"Spartan, I would not be so gauche as to ask about that at breakfast."
Miller sighs and shifts his footing. "Then what?"
"Do you consider milk a snack?"
What?
"What?"
"I want to know your thoughts. I've been privy to some heated debates around the snack status of milk. Some even went as far to say it could be a meal, in certain situations."
"What?!" Miller's voice goes up and he grumbles. Pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you hanging around marines? This is the kind of stuff that marines argue about."
"There were some others involved. Some people with more credentials weighed in and lines were drawn." Roland is eerily somber as he delivers that line, but it's gone in a flash as he perks up to say, "That's why I want to hear your thoughts!"
"Is milk a snack?" He echoes. This was not where he thought the line of questioning would go.
"Could it be considered one?"
He's vaguely aware of his face doing something. He's mad at himself that his arms are crossed and he's invested so quickly. Who was arguing this? Milk's a drink. Who is spending their free time arguing about this? And the more important question; What does Roland want? What does he get out of this?
Miller eats his five food groups plus the extra ones they made up for the IVs. Milk is not a snack, it's a drink. Right? Roland knows this. He has to know this. The care and feeding of humans probably came with his instruction manual of the ship. Miller's heard him remind people to eat and drink when he's feeling particularly snippy and points out bad habits to (try to) win arguments. Roland's just messing with him. Unless that's what he wants Miller to think so then Miller would say it's a snack and then Roland would call him an idiot for thinking that. There's no safe answer here, but the best option Miller has is to say that no, of course not. Milk isn't a snack, and it's illogical to consider otherwise.
"You've been quiet for a bit, didn't know this was such a tough question."
He feels his eye twitch, but he doesn't rise to the bait. Miller sniffs, it’s a loud and abrupt noise, and puts his mug in the dish return. "Milk's not a snack, Roland." He says with the deep calm of the utmost paranoid.
Roland raises his chin and tilts his head to the side, looking at Miller with a face full of polite indifference. It's almost funny seeing him try to look down his nose at him from a holotank a meter off the ground. "Oh really?"
Cold sweat collects on the back of his neck. Miller had not avoided the mind games.
"Why not?" Roland mirrors him, arms crossed head tilting back to eye him.
"It's not!" He blusters and then remembers himself. "You asked what I thought and I told you."
"Yeah, but why?" Roland turns his hand to check his nails. "I heard some pretty compelling arguments."
Miller's eye twitches again. The door to the mess opens and shuts without him bothering to look at who's entered.
"From who?!"
"People."
"’Snack’ means food. Milk is not a food, it's a drink."
"It's a thick drink. Could be a snack in a pinch."
"What are you even saying?"
"Milk snack."
"It's too early for this. Are other drinks snacks?"
"I don't know, are they?"
"Are you mad at me? Did I do something recently? To deserve this?"
"Hey now, are you mad at me? You're looking upset there, Spartan. Heart rate is up too."
"Roland! You-! You're the one seeking me out to ask me if milk is a snack!"
"Do you draw the line at milkshakes? Oh, or maybe an egg cream?"
"You're making that last one up."
"I am not! It’s a real thing, look it up."
"Anyway, you're trying to distract me. Milk is not a snack."
"Well, that's your opinion. What do you think, Captain Lasky?" Roland smirks, barely dragging his avatar's eyes from Miller's as awareness hits him like a grenade. 
There’s a second before the captain responds, enough time for Miller to glance over and take in Lasky in his front row seat to the Roland and Miller show. The Captain. Of the whole ship. Sitting there watching Miller’s sanity erode in real time.
"Oh, I'm good. You two have fun." Captain Lasky smiles at them and raises his own mug of coffee as he goes back to his datapad.
"Sir." Miller nods robotically. The cold sweat is back. So is the unpleasant flush of heat on his face.
"Spartan." The Captain nods back. He even smiles. Is that sympathy or pity in his eyes?
"He came in about halfway through our discussion." Roland stage-whispers to him. It is definitely loud enough for Lasky to hear because he grins into his mug. "I would have warned you but you seemed so intent on this topic."
"Roland."
"Yes, Miller? Something you care to share?"
"No..." He doesn't deflate, but the fight's gone out of him. There's no winning.
"Captain." Miller nods and leaves the room. He's dreading Ops now. There's no way Roland lets this lie.
-
"Hello Crimson, Roland here!"
Miller doesn't mute in time and hot mics an exasperated groan straight into Crimson's TEAMCOM.
"Spartan Miller! I know today's mission is a lot of standing around and waiting for things to happen, but a bit of decorum, please! What would Commander Palmer say?"
"Clear the line and let the Spartans work, Roland."
"That is a very good impression of her, have you been working on that?"
Miller ignores him and tells Crimson their mission. It is in fact a “standing around and waiting for things” mission. Four Spartans from Fireteam Crimson are guarding Site Req//7848-2328 codenamed “The Refuge” because it’d been the site of enough problems already and Commander Palmer wanted it covered while Infinity Science packed their bags.
“So we’re babysitting again?” Crimson 4 asks. Crimson 2 elbows him hard enough his shields flicker. Miller watches this unfold from Crimson 3’s helmet feed and sighs. It’s not his day today.
“You’re guarding the scientists and marines who are finishing up doing science stuff in the area.” Miller explains. “Before anything else bad happens.”
“And we drew the short straws.” Crimson 4 says to himself.
“Gunny, your mic’s on.” Crimson 2 chides.
“Oh I know.”
“You know-” Roland interjects.
“No.”
He ignores Miller. “-there’s a question going around and no one can agree on the answer. Miller here didn’t like me asking him, but I bet Crimson could tell me their thoughts.”
Crimson 2, 4, and 5 exchange glances. Crimson 3 continues napping from a spot in the nearby greenery, seemingly asleep until he flashes green. 
“Is milk a snack?” Roland asks and silence falls on the team of highly-trained, combat-hardened super-soldiers. 
Miller groans and hides his face in his hands. “Roland, we can't keep doing this.”
“What kind of milk?”
“I like making Pilk!”
“It could b- Gunny, what the fuck is Pilk?!”
“‘Cause it could be a snack, depending on the animal or nut it comes from.”
“Sometimes in the old country, all I had for dinner was milk.” Crimson 5 nods sagely, his accent clipping his words through the mic.
Oh you know, pilk!”
“That doesn’t explain anything!”
“What is happening?”
“Research, Miller. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Miller, what’s your opinion?” Crimson 4 chimes in.
“It’s not- it’s not a snack.” He sounds absolutely despondent. This mission was supposed to be simple, but now thanks to Roland, it’s gone completely off the rails.
“Really? Too good for milk snack?”
“It’s a drink!”
“It could be a snack. Glass of milk between meals?”
“Are you guys okay?”
“I don’t know, our mission handler is acting weird. Too high and mighty for milk snack.”
“Yesss! Join me! Rhodes, when we get back, can we make pilk?”
“I still don’t know what that is.”
“Milk and soda!”
“Sounds almost like an egg cream.”
“Aha!” Roland cheers and his avatar does a little fist pump in the Op center.
“There’s no way egg creams are real!” Miller explodes. Dalton looks at him from his station with his usual level of concern. He likes to let Miller know he’s here, but he’s not intervening.
“Focus Crimson, you have a mission.” Miller tries to regain control but it’s long gone.
“We are on mission. Stand around watching the trees and radar. Don’t let anyone touch Forerunner buttons and become the science. Listen to Roland ruin Miller’s day. Standard operating procedure so far.”
Miller doesn’t know how to respond to that.
Roland does.
“I don’t ruin his day! I brighten it and yours with my charm and valuable tactical advice!”
“Shoot the door gunner, Crimson. Touch the button, Crimson. Ooh a big locked door, let me open that for you, Crimson.”
Miller blinks in surprise as Roland is, for once, speechless.
The silence is broken by Crimson.
“Do you think Murphy considers milk a snack?”
“I don’t want to spend our trip home arguing.”
“I bet he would like pilk.”
“You’re not listening, are you?”
“No <3”
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bellygunnr · 6 months ago
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Cavalry Call
Commission piece for @poisonheadcrabsalesman of my Spartan and AI Roland driving a tank!
Gunny squints through the War Games UI. He's not in armor, so there's no HUD, necessarily, but his neural implant jumps to connect with the simulation pod and forces various shapes and lines to scrawl over his naked eyes. It makes his brain pulse in a deeply uncomfortable way. He jabs aimlessly at the air, snarling when he puts in the wrong option, tosses his head back when his implant abruptly goes icy and his world tinges yellow.
Bit small in here, isn't it? A familiar voice says.
Gunny leans on the edge of the pod, world swimming counter-clockwise.
"Roland," he says. "What are you doing up?"
The freezing sensation zips down his spine and melts slowly. His vision flares. Roland is-- showing off, he realizes, rifling through his brain and making the pod easier to work with.
"This is an oddly specific setup for you," Roland replies, ignoring him completely. "Ohhh. You were Army?"
The pod hums to life. Gunny climbs inside, settling into the straps, harness, and chair, and tries not to think about Roland partially riding inside. He didn't ask for a buddy, but maybe he's just doing that badly, to warrant pity from--
Hey, Roland says sharply.
Right.
He relaxes into the restraint. The hum rises in volume until his molars buzz, and then the world melts away. His limbs grow heavy and gravity tries to yank him to the ground.
But he catches his footing and rolls back to a standing position-- right next to an M808B MBT. Scorpion, for short. Gunny runs his hands over the angled hull of a tread pod, nodding to himself. It'd be a tight fit inside with his helmet.
I've never driven one of these before, Roland comments. Mind if I tag along?
"Do I have a choice?" Gunny grunts, swinging himself up and over the rear pod and on top of the cockpit.
He kicks open the hatch with one practiced strike with his boot, but hesitates on diving inside. Instead, he crouches under the long barrel, taking stock of his surroundings. That was the problem with War Games--
It could simulate enemies, but not friendlies. His ghosts didn't care what he was doing here. 
"You always have a choice," Roland says, seeping into his armor speakers. "You haven't said no yet, either."
"You didn't ask," Gunny snaps. "You seriously haven't ridden a tank?"
His HUD shivers yellow at the edges. He wishes he knew what Roland is doing, knows he can ask, but doesn't. The horizon some two kliks south lights up in neon and ionizes the air. Shakes the ground. 
Don't sound so surprised, Roland says, deep in his mind, I'm usually busy flying a starship!
He sucks in a deep breath and swings down into the cockpit of the tank. The tip of his helmet's horn grazes the ceiling before the single seat bolted to the floor grabs him and holds him close. His neck twinges as Roland jumps around, stretching himself out to fill the space of a brain and fake reality, while his neural implant does the same to sink deep into the tank.
Yeah, okay. He hasn't been in a Scorpion in a long time. It's kind of comforting, if you consider lying prone in a giant metal coffin a comfort.
Still, it takes a second for the controls to rise to his finger tips. The tank has to be started manually, but that's muscle memory. Gunny's sure the only reason he's aware of the process at all is due to Roland skimming through his brain, pleased. Then it's letting the exterior sensors and computer guiding systems pour into his brain. 
"Kind of claustrophobic, don't you think?" Roland laughs. 
Under the laughter, there's a current of genuine discomfort. Gunny lets the massive engine roar up through his throat and into his guts, lets Roland copy the synapses necessary to encourage the tank to move, and hauls off toward the flashing forest with dirt and stone dragging across his- their- backside. 
The Scorpion has its name for a few reasons, really. The most obvious is its silhouette. That low, wide hull that hugs the ground, yet snaps up into a long-snouted cannon turret. Just like its namesake, it has a long reach and a nasty bite.
And it's agile as hell.
Gunny coaxes the big thing off the plateau and down a pile of previously-blasted rock. Data rushes in at an increased rate and he braces for the skull-splitting division of attention that comes with it, but between Roland and the Spartan implant, coordinating the four track pods down the slope feels more like breathing than it should. The engine whines in discomfort as its buffeted by the slide.
He floors it into the copse of trees.
Roland is a heavy presence the entire time, all curiosity and quiet disapproval, apparently aware of how familiar Gunny is with the scenario and able to suss out what that means, exactly. It's the quietude that's unnerving-- moreso than the Covenant Armoured lurking just beyond the border of the woods. 
"Did Crimson send you after me?" Gunny demands.
He's not sure if he speaks aloud or thinks really hard or what. There's like, two Spartans total on Crimson that'd hunt after him, and that's Sadie and Rhodes. And Rhodes and Roland--
Gunny's head twitches as he gets a targeting lock on a Wraith turning away from his position. That is according to plan. Yet...
He cuts the speed incrementally. Breathes in.
Can't a guy hang out with his favorite Fireteam?
His vision blurs slightly. The barrel drops. Brakes grind. The entire assembly jerks as he hammers in the firing solution and lets loose on the errant Wraith. The 102mm round drills through the shields and sinks deep into the power core of the beast. 
Roland makes a little squeaking sound as he, presumably, detects every alien start trying to get a lock on their position. Gunny slams into reverse just as the Wraith gives up and explodes. 
And explodes again-- ammunition reserve, then. Nice.
You really don't like tanks, huh? Gunny projects. Watch this.
"Target lock," the tank says.
Oh. Well.
The Scorpion lurches as he abruptly tries to pivot left and swings into a tree, knocking it over with a crack. Overhead, a flaming ball of plasma rains down onto their position. 
"Oops," Gunny says blandly.
Roland jumps from the tank to his brain in a panic.
The exterior of the Scorpion burns. Gunny just hastily resets the simulation with a groan.
----
Like what you see? Commission me or drop me a ko-fi.
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ageless-aislynn · 2 years ago
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Yay, I finished Halo 4 Spartan Ops! And let me tell you, I finished it on Normal because you cannot pay me enough to play 50 levels of this on Legendary. No way.*⬇ I have never in my (admittedly limited) gaming life seen such a tremendous disparity between the difficulty of Normal and Heroic as Spartan Ops has. I tried for an achievement requiring Heroic and, frens? I literally had Promethean Knights raining down on my head. Literally spawning in and landing on my head while I was being attacked by other Knights, Crawlers and Watchers *shakes fist* from all sides.
I was therefore not surprised to learn that Spartan Ops is intended for up to 4 players at a time so therefore the enemies are set for you to be a team of 4. Even when you’re playing solo.
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That was the singular most awful Halo game experience I’ve ever had. And that’s counting the week and a half it took me to beat the Halo 2 Regret boss battle on Legendary.
Anyway, here’s “Wonderwall” what my Spartan Ops character looks like!
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Aren’t I pretty in purple and teal? 😎😉 Despite being Fireteam Crimson (all by my lonesome), I didn’t go with red since that’s the color of my fem!Six’s Mjolnir. And yes, the skull visor is an homage to Emile, whom I love. 😉
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Also seen from Halo: Reach: Jorge, whom I love, Kat, whom I love and fem!Six, whom I love, in her red Mjolnir. 😇💖
Seriously, though, every time somebody in game announced that Fireteam Crimson had arrived, I wished it would show me jumping out of the Pelican all alone and everybody else looking like, “Um, that’s the Fireteam? The entire Fireteam???” 👀
And I’m standing there like
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Anyway, just wanted to share! Love you, frens, hope you’re doing well! 🤗💖
*Until I get sad enough because I’ve finished all of the rest of the MCC and decide to try Heroic and/or Legendary and see if I can grind through them and get the achievements for completing them. You actually get two for Legendary, one for completing it and one for completing it solo. 😐  Because it will be A PILL to complete solo. But I’m contrary that way, what can I tell you? 🤷‍♀️😉
EDIT:
Dude. Why do I even throw that gauntlet down?
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Okay, well so apparently I’m going to try Spartan Ops on Legendary solo. Wish me luck, frens! Chapter 1, episodes 1-3 are done, just 47 more episodes to go! 😧🤷‍♀️😉
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fireteammusketeer · 1 year ago
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tenebrisxarmatus · 3 months ago
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Fireteam Crimson - Updated
Clerical Update Log - Group File - Spartan Fireteam - CRIMSON
It has been some time since they operated alongside Commander Cain, but after being brought back into the fold, the team was reconstituted after they were outfitted with fresh arms, armor, and equipment. Updates are as follows, and while I don't actually feel emotions, it is pleasant to see the old team alive and well.
-UNSC AI Fox
Spartan Barbara Jun
Still brash, still loud, still very deadly at close range. Her number of Banished trophies is as unsettling as it is helpful for the analysis teams.
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Spartan Samantha Aaron
With the selection available, she has embraced her previous service history, like many ODSTs-turned-Spartan, and still the backbone of support for the team.
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Spartan Nath Horváth
Every bit the demolitionist he was before the Created War, Nath has thankfully maintained his expertise and his positive attitude. New 'toys' are being developed thanks to his field reports of action against the Banished and Created.
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Garth Verma
Garth still operates as the dedicated team medic, and is the only reason all of Crimson made it back to the Academy in one piece, and has expanded his expertise in fixing Spartans to include their armor as well.
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Team Leader: REINSTATED
Spartan-077 - CMDR Joshua Cain
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(Been a LONG time since I messed with Crimson. I figured since I've been updating Joshua's armor that I'd get Fireteam Crimson back up to date too whether it's the Canon Timeline or mine.)
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berat-adil-emre-yukime · 10 months ago
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Is there something you wish had gone differently? If there is, would you go back and change it?
Well this is a specific one, and quite personal-
There have been multiple events where I wish things had gone differently, and I would give everything to be able to go back in time and change it.
My most recent one though would probably be something I call the "Hacksaw Mission". Everyone suggested I go with my team for that mission but I didn't listen.
Why? Because I was still trying to get over an argument I had with one of my teammates.
I thought everything was going well but...
... I think I revealed enough.
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crystalsandbubbletea · 11 months ago
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Chin-Sun: Why do you you get to be in charge? Why can't we take turns?
Berat: Because I'm the oldest-
Dae-Seong: Oh yeah? Well you're also the GAYEST. Therefore I think I should be in charge.
*Bonus*
Casimira: ... What the hell did I just witness?
Azad: Dae-Seong and Chin-Sun don't agree with Berat being in charge of our fireteam-
Casimira: I- It hasn't been a day yet and your team is already having problems?
Azad: Just one though!
Casimira: ..... This is Casimira Wagner. I'd like to report that Fireteam Crimson is already having problems-
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cappurrccino · 11 months ago
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I feel like if I make a new forerunner oc it has to be a juridical, right? like there is simply no other option
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alonygamingnerd · 5 months ago
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"Murphy's Crimson"
A piece dedicated to the famous Fireteam Crimson of the second Requiem campaign and the Marine who stuck by their side, infinitefied
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a-driftamongopenstars · 2 years ago
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here is an ask game based off destiny 2 exotics! 🟡 feel free to reblog and have fun
Riskrunner - What was the very first weapon that your Guardian knew was truly theirs? Do they still use it?
Sunshot - What is your Guardian's temper? How do they handle stressful situations? How do they relax?
Ace of Spades - What's your Guardian's relationship with the Vanguard?
Crimson - Does your Guardian often compete in the Crucible arena? How successfully?
Le Monarque - How does your Guardian feel about puzzles and mysteries?
Ager's Scepter - Does your Guardian enjoy hunting down lore, transmissions, stories? Do they know much outside of the Vanguard network?
Touch of Malice - Is your Guardian often participating in raids?
Hard Light - Is your Guardian proficient in all subclasses or do they specialize? Do they have a favorite subclass power?
Gjallarhorn - Was your Guardian risen during the D1 or D2 events, or even earlier?
Black Talon - What is your Guardian's aesthetic?
Malfeasance - Did your Guardian side with the Vanguard or the Drifter when he asked? (or what would they have picked if didn't get a chance back then)
Witherhoard - Does your Guardian wield the Darkness? How does it make them feel?
One Thousand Voices - Is your Guardian lucky with loot drops?
Outbreak Perfected - Does your Guardian have any body modifications? Do they want any?
Trinity Ghoul - Does your Guardian prefer to work alone or do they have a fireteam?
Huckleberry - What is your Guardian's approach to combat? Are they subtle, all guns blazing or prefer to avoid it altogether?
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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 11 months ago
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"Numerous Pelicans shot down trying to recover the power supply for the Covenant Harvester. Fireteam Crimson searching for survivors while recovering the replacement part."
A quick edit of "Seize the Power", the third chapter of the tenth episode, Exodus.
This is the level I've been dying to show people.
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bloodgulchblog · 11 months ago
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First section of Touchstone, insane Miller-has-a-crush-on-Master-Chief fic premise.
It is not currently nsfw. It is currently running away from me as I relish in the opportunity to flop around in this space in Halo lore like a crow in a rain puddle.
But anyway, here's how it's going so far. (Reprints the thing I posted before for coherency, mostly it's Miller suffering, eventually once I feel like I have a substantial amount of fanfiction built up here I might post it to ao3 but who knows)
Directing Blue Team is different from directing Crimson, or Majestic, or any other Spartan-IV team. It shouldn’t be. A Spartan fireteam is a Spartan fireteam, and Spartan-IV outcomes are equal or superior to Spartan-II. This is the official line. Miller has all the data rattling around in his head that would confirm it, all the performance metrics and wargames statlines and field reports.
But data’s only one piece of a puzzle. The other piece is the VISR feeds streaming across Miller’s display, pooling together the four perspectives that make up the whole of the mission. 
Kelly-087. Fred-104. Linda-058. John-117, the Master Chief himself.
They speak very little, they move in perfect concert, the whole execution of every objective the wargames protocol spits and Miller calls out for them is ruthlessly, antiseptically clean.
If Crimson is like a rocket launcher, the Spartan-IIs feel like a goddamn tactical nuke.
Directing Blue Team is a rush.
“Enjoying yourself?” Roland asks, the surprise lighting up all the muscles in Miller’s shoulders and making his teeth click together. The yellow figure of the Infinity’s AI, arms folded behind his back and brows arched, has co-opted the workstation’s holo display. He manages to project the full energy of someone leaning on the back of Miller’s chair despite lacking both the body and the weight to lean.
Miller feels his ears burn, like he’s been somehow caught doing… something.
He’s not going to analyze exactly what that something is or why he feels that way about watching Blue Team sighting in on a Promethean Knight, right now.
“...Sure. Just putting Blue Team through their paces,” he replies, starting off cautiously neutral. Roland hasn’t done anything yet. There’s a chance he won’t do anything, or say anything. Miller can be the bigger person. Miller can offer Roland the chance to better his track record vis a vis the doing and saying of things.
The Master Chief makes a hand signal, invisible on his cam but Miller sees it flicker in triplicate across team feeds before they all start moving. Fred-104 pops from cover to herd the Knight, tightly placed AR groups forcing it to move back before it has a chance to hit him with its scattershot. Linda-058, further off up a stone ledge where she’s been cleaning Watchers out of the air, fires a round that slices through one side of the Knight’s carapace and bursts out the other with a flare of damaged orange hardlight. It staggers and step-turns to hunt the sniperfire, and immediately gets hit from the back by Kelly-087, lightning fast with a shotgun blast that shreds the rest of the rear armor and exposes the Knight’s glowing core.
Then there’s the Master Chief. He slides in from the flank, closing immediately to drive in a knife. The Knight staggers forward and the Chief mounts up, tipping the big construct with a powerful twist of his body while he adjusts the angle of the blade. There’s nothing random about the stab, Miller can see him pull the Knight’s core with one hand while the other slices into the contacts along its rim. It screams as something pops with one disdainful flex of the Chief’s wrist, and he jumps away clean before the Knight dissolves into sparks and cinders under him.
Roland whistles appreciatively.
Miller swallows.
It’s here that he gets the first inkling that maybe, possibly, he might have a problem.
“Very nice,” Roland is saying. “Ooh, Miller. Miller! Can I tell Majestic how much this beats their time?”
“Good work, Blue Team,” Miller says, ignoring him. “That was the last target. Head back to the first waypoint, and we’ll pull you out of the sim.”
“Spoilsport,” Roland grouses. “I think a little competition would be good for Majestic! Light a real fire under ‘em.”
“Roland, clear the channel,” says the Master Chief before Miller has to do it himself. “Miller, it was a smooth run. Good job, Spartan.”
Miller’s heart doesn’t skip a beat, because that’s the sort of trouble reserved for mere mortals with organs not reinforced by polythread weave. 
And that’s the only reason.
“Thanks.”
It’s lame, Thanks, but the word gets out of his mouth in one piece and he couldn’t be more grateful.
Roland’s trying to lure the Master Chief into giving him some pointers that he can offer next time Thorne’s team runs this exercise, no doubt because he’s bored and would love to rile Majestic up, but the Chief can hold his own and Miller’s lost focus on it in the face of what he’s learning.
Because oh.
Oh.
He has a problem.
MJOLNIR variants, the names of specific patterns for alien weapons, the shape and flow of familiar combat situations. The ways his teams fall together, the ways the personalities play off one another or don’t. How something can happen, and someone can suddenly be different from how they were before.
The things Miller knows snap into focus every time he recognizes them, like the targeting reticle blinking awake on his HUD when the MJONLIR’s gauntlet contacts clock a supported weapon. He’s always liked knowing things, even made it his business to know things when he could be relying on a machine to pull up the details. Memory is faster, sharper, lets him fit facts together into something that might actually help. Maybe. Maybe it’s also just a certain amount of residual nerdery that the UNSC decided it liked enough not to sand off of him.
Usually, he likes this about himself too.
But right now, the new information slotting itself so helpfully into all Miller’s awareness is that the Master Chief is hot. The Master Chief is really really hot, and he can’t stop noticing.
Just not thinking about him doesn’t work. The Infinity is the biggest ship in the fleet and has a population to match, but in the grand scheme of things? She’s a small town, and Chief’s a big resident. People still talk over the rumors about the Biko peace talks, the whole slate of rumors about Requiem, about Cortana, about even quieter and older rumors only some of the Spartans are allowed to know and only most of them know if ONI isn’t asking.
People wonder stuff about Master Chief.
“How’d he take it?” is what Carmichael wonders over lunch. 
Miller twists his fork in his noodles.
“He’s…” Miller searches for a word that has nothing to do with anything he has possibly felt ever in his life. “Professional.”
“That bad?” Carmichael’s eyebrows lift. It’s more than just thinking it’s funny, though.
“Not bad,” Miller clarifies, maybe a little too quickly. “It’s just…”
Carmichael’s scheduled to do some trial runs with Blue Team, too. Palmer hasn’t said anything, but Blue Team hasn’t had to work under a Spartan mission handler since John-117 came back from the dead. Blue Team also hasn’t been out in the field since the disaster at the Biko peace talks. Everyone on S-Deck is smart enough to figure out what’s happening without having their hands held.
Carmichael’s real question, the one Miller’s trying to answer, is: How is the legendary defender of humanity doing with his wings clipped?
The answer to that question should absolutely not be hot.
“If he’s upset about it – and I’m not saying he is – he’s not showing it.”
Carmichael nods, accepting this. 
“So, how do they run?”
This one’s worse to answer. It’s so much worse. Miller can hear his pulse in his ears and feel the fork digging into his hand.
He laughs nervously. He hopes Carmichael can’t tell.
“I won’t spoil it for you.”
He can feel Carmichael studying him. Carmichael’s older, all of the other mission handlers are older than Miller and most of them are from a Spartan-IV class or two before his.
It doesn’t bother him, most of the time, but it is enough to create a divide between him and the few other people who share this highly specific job.
“Alright Miller, keep your secrets,” Carmichael says. “May the best man win, eh?”
Miller manages not to choke. Oh. Oh, no.
“That’s not what I meant, I-”
“Don’t worry about it.” Carmichael’s tone is amicable, but a little of the friendliness has slipped back. They’re not in cahoots sharing information anymore. This has gone totally professional. 
Carmichael has completely misread this. Maybe Miller has too. He didn’t realize Carmichael might care about who gets assigned Blue Team?
Maybe it would be a prestige thing? God damn it.
He tries to think of how to fix this, to make it less awkward to share workspace with Carmichael for… for however long this might last? But he can’t do it.
Carmichael finishes eating and leaves the mess first, and Miller’s shoulders sink.
He goes back over the testrun in his head as he picks at what’s left on his tray, appetite gone. Did he miss anything during the mission? Any hesitations or bad calls? What’s Commander Palmer going to say when she finally records feedback? Was it a clean run? He thinks maybe?
Is this even a competition?
Is there any chance they’ll assign Blue Team to him?
Miller thinks about the hole in his roster that’s been there since February, and his gut still twists. Fireteam Castle, all six Spartans, lost to Covenant remnant shooting down their Pelican. All the arguments with himself about whether or not there was something he could’ve done better, arguments he’s had with himself hundreds of times since, start rising to the surface of Miller’s thoughts.
He forces them all away and rests his face in his hand, fingers on one temple and thumb on the other. He breathes out, long and slow, focusing on the transfer of air until there isn’t any left and his head’s quiet again.
No. They’re not going to put him in charge of Blue Team, and it’s going to be for the best for all concerned.
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ageless-aislynn · 2 years ago
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It’s the Halo 4 Spartan Ops Legendary solo update that I know all of the UNSC, the Covenant, the Forerunners and the Flood who are not invited to this party otherwise (whew, I couldn’t handle the Flood on top of all the rest of this mess 😉) have all breathlessly been waiting for! 😎
Last time on “Ais Plays Spartan Ops on Legendary ‘Cause She Apparently Has Nothing Better To Do,” here’s where we were at!
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Episode 1, chapters 1-3 completed!
Today...
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Episode 1, chapters 4 and 5, and Episode 2, chapters 1 and 2, completed!
And guess what? I have a full team for Fireteam Crimson now! Look under the cut to see their awesome pics!
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Fireteam Crimson leader Purple Teal Ais!
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Fireteam Crimson weapons’ specialist Bandana!
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Fireteam Crimson escape specialist Acrophobia!
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Fireteam Crimson second-in-command Otto Auto-Sentry!
Yes, friends, I decided that since the game thinks there are 4 of me, then darn it, I’m going to use the skulls to help myself as much as possible, lol!
Bandana provides infinite ammo and Acrophobia lets you fly. Otto my beloved Auto-Sentry lasts until somebody kills him and then I can immediately revive him so he’ll continue helping me to blast enemies! He also draws fire off of me so I can flank enemies as well. I figured that was basically what you’d do with an actual teammate, right? And if you have 4 people playing, that’s 4 times the ammo so thus... Bandana. But I have to say that Acrophobia can only do so much because those blamed enemies will snipe you straight out of the air with no problem. 🤬🤬🤬
Even with my new “team,” it still took me over an hour to grind through Episode  2, Chapter 2 and it only gets harder from here. But, at least I have more of a fighting chance, right?
In case anybody cares, I’ve found the most successful loadout to be the DMR for primary weapon, plasma pistol for secondary, and Otto my beloved for armor ability. I can’t always remember if we’re going to be dealing with Covenant or Prometheans (and sometimes you get both) but the plasma pistol is definitely your friend to overcharge shields off of Covvies but especially is awesome in EMP blasting vehicles so they’ll stop shooting you or so you can board them. The DMR gives you 14 shots before you have to reload, so that’s better than some of the ones where you practically have to reload every other shot.
Note: a slow-loading or frequently needs to be reloaded weapon is a great way to get murdered on Legendary because the enemies are AGGRESSIVE. They’ll leave their designated areas and hunt you down once they know you’re there and there are a ton of sword Elites who charge straight at you, usually faster than you can pop their shields and headshot them unless you have enough time to see them coming. 😧
You can always change weapons for those you find on the battlefield but I’ve found that combo to be a solid starting place, so thought I’d pass that on just ‘cause!
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Okay, back to completely ignoring Camp NaNo in favor of playing more Spartan Ops! 😬😧😐
Love you, frens! 🤗💖
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halobirthdays · 1 year ago
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Happy birthday to Field Master Parg Vol!
Today is his -457th birthday!
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Vol served the Covenant until its dissolution in 2552. After the Covenant's fracture, multiple splinter groups appeared. His presumed relative, Merg Vol, created one such group, which Parg joined as an assassin and arms dealer.
After Merg Vol was killed by Spartan Sarah Palmer, his faction fell apart, and Parg joined Jul 'Mdama's Covenant to continue the campaign against humanity. Four years later, while serving 'Mdama on Requiem, he was targeted and killed by Spartan-IV fireteam Crimson.
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fireteammusketeer · 1 year ago
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captainstarcruiser · 6 months ago
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Vanguard Guardian OC Description
Name: Crimson-9
Nicknames: Crimson, Crim, Red, 9, or (Gambit title) Red Dot.
Pronouns: He/Him
Class: Exo Hunter
Subclass: Solar/Golden Gun and Stasis/Silence and Squall
Ghost: Bun.3 (pronounced Bunny) her shell is the Year of the Rabbit Shell.
Revival spot: EDZ Forest
Age: 25 (29 after revival)
Personal Trinket: MP4 made with salvaged Golden Age technology and these enemies: Fallen, Cabal, Vex.
Preferred Tools of Trade:
Häkke Brand
Suros Brand
Heliocentric QSc
Ammit AR2
Breakneck
Come to Pass
Coronach-22
IKELOS_HC_v1.0.3
IKELOS_SR_v1.0.3
IKELOS_SMG_v1.0.3
Herod-C
Albruna-D
Crux Termination IV
Tarnation
Hullabaloo
Half-Truth
The Other Half.
Exotic Favorites:
Sunshot
Borealis
Suros Regime
Forerunner
Monte Carlo
Ace of Spades
Hardlight
Polaris Lance
Quicksilver Storm.
Bio: Known as the Exo Hunter Crimson-9, he spent time with Cayde-6 on and off the field in order to learn his tricks and skills for the field. He usually sticks to the Hunter groups due to sharing more in common with them. From time to time he works with other classes when he's looking to make quick glimmer or resources for his purchases.
He enjoys music and food more than any exotic he's gathered.
Especially from a hole in the wall diner in the city run by an Exo and Awoken couple, known popularly as The Grease Bucket. They make the thickest, greasiest, and tastiest burgers and chili-cheese fries in the whole city.
As for Crim's taste in music, he has a collection that spreads down to the oldest traces of music, before the Traveler and Golden Age. He loves old school jazz, death metal, dubstep, and for his usual meditation sessions: Japanese Hot Spring Music.
Crimson-9 has a troubled past, involving the Red War and his time being lightless. Eventually his team ended up leaving him behind during a raid on the moon in the Hive sector. His only way to cope with the memory is his music, and meditation.
He hates Hive, with a seething passion. Anything that resembles the Hive, causes his mood to sour. Once he leapt onto a giant Hive Knight Boss and stabbed it in the head over and over till it fell, just because his team took too long to kill it.
The time he spent wandering the Hive zones after his fireteam abandoned him caused him to have nightmares of his time down there. Some nights it's just him being chased by cursed thrall, but the worst is when a curse of Hive decay slowly overtakes his body. He picks at and cracks off all the growing decay till he sees his face fall apart into a hideous ugly screaming thrall.
His likes:
The Grease Bucket
Modded MP4
Music
Pet Ginger Cat named Amber
Dancing
Meditation
Side Arms
Hand Cannons
Spending time with people
Drawing citizens of the Last City
Video Games
His Ship: Mayfly
Collecting every shader he can find
Collecting Gemstones
Collecting Sparrows and Skimmers.
His dislikes:
Hive
Bugs
Spicy and Bitter Stuff
Screams of Pain
Wasting Resources
Arc attacks
Raw Tomatoes
He had a strong silent type of demeanor, usually because he is listening to his music or focused on the battle. He'll open up if you offer food, a clone of your music for his collection, and his favorite drink at the Glimmer Glint Bar, which is a Sweet Wish Stasis, named after a famous Hunter who used Ahamkara-Stasis based weapons on their battles.
He had a secret nerdy when he's happy and philosophical side when he feels melancholy about the entire situation of the Earth.
If you talk to him about cats, music, food, weapons, or animals then he's ready to talk your ear off.
He's Pansexual, and a very tender lover. He knows which buttons to press, and loves seeing his partners reactions. From a cute moan to a squeal, it makes him feel warm when he hears his partner is being satisfied. If you treat him well, show some interest, and try to keep in contact often he'll stay loyal regardless of class or rank.
The only challenge you'll have when around him, is not dying from how critical Bun.3 gets when he's being himself.
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