Hi guys!
Would any of you consider to take part in a costume (cosplay) contest? If yes, as what (or who) would you dress up?
The prize would be a month’s worth of sweet treats 😏
Kelly: Hmm. Sweet treats, you say? Could be worth it, but i think I'm too big to be a very convincing rabbit.
Fred: I guess I'd try, but I don't think I would win. Maybe I could go as a Jiralhanae?
John: Nope, I'm out. Unless I can dress up as myself, in my armor, I prefer to stay in uniform.
Linda: I'd compete. I have a very convincing bush costume.
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"YOU ARE THE CULMINATION OF A THOUSAND LIFETIMES OF PLANNING."
RULES / MUSES / VERSES
Independent & semi-selective blog, featuring Master Chief from the Halo franchise as well as a plethora of other characters from various video game, film, and anime franchises, all penned by Sharky. AU, crossover, and OC friendly!
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Original promo template can be found here.
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Quick prompt for a friend - Master Chief finds a tiny cat
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The second mission to secure supplies from a civilian depot had gone much better than his first attempt. This time John had been prepared for the onslaught of sights and sounds, the sheer number of people around him while out of his armor, and for the staring.
He even had a team specifically picked for the endeavor; the most leveled headed marines he had worked with recently made up the team that loaded into the road-approved warthog for a "grocery run". They stuck to the plan, loaded the cart with Spartan-like efficiency, and were in and out in under half an hour.
Exiting the structure, he relaxes as he finishes his headcount and they make their way to the car unscathed. John won't chalk this one up to a success until they're back on base, but he's pleased at how well he navigated the trip so far.
Kelly's sitting at the wheel of the vehicle, head bobbing to the radio as she scans the parking lot and waits for them to load the supplies.
John was just about to climb in when he hears it. A strange high pitched whine, short and clipped, but repeating frequently enough he can locate the source in the hedges surrounding the store's eastern side. It was distinct, different from the whistling of projectiles or humming whirs of alien weapons.
A signal to Kelly informing her to hold position and he walks towards it - hand hovering near his concealed MK50 Sidekick.
The sound gets louder and more frantic at his approach until he kneels a few meters away, body at an angle to become a smaller target. Cocking his head he narrows in on the source.
A tiny fuzzy creature about the size of his fist and covered in dirt mews at him as it waddles closer, meowing and hissing in tandem. Its eyes are unfocused and blue. John doesn't know anything about cats but he's never seen one with blue eyes, not in any of the pictures that have been shared with him. In recent months he's found out he's the namesake of a lot of pets; cats, dogs, and even a very stubborn tortoise.
The tiny thing must be a young kitten, too young to survive on its own, especially in a busy parking lot.
The choice is easy. John doesn't leave anyone behind.
The kitten hisses as he cups it in gun-calloused hands, fingers gently supporting fragile bones and fur. Tentatively he pets it, scratching under its chin and it vibrates - purrs - shaking its tiny frame.
He walks back to the warthog and the look Kelly gives him is as smug as he's seen her. Her eyebrow's raised and she appears to be biting the inside of her mouth while she turns down the music.
The marines are less reserved and clamor to see what the Chief picked up. He silences them with a hand while the other one is occupied. Their newest addition mews and one marine can't help but "aww" at the kitten before he's elbowed by his seatmate.
Kelly, nonplussed and more pleased than she should be, side-eyes him as he slides into the passenger seat and the warthog suspension shifts. "What are you going to call it?"
"Naming it would look like we're keeping it." He says, petting the kitten and plucking debris from its fur. He turns and hands a marine the card preloaded with credits and nods from the kitten to the store, and three of them are out of the car nearly as fast as Kelly.
She huffs a breath into the steering wheel, content to wait a bit longer.
"Thinking about 'Frederic'." John replies after a moment. The kitten is falling asleep in his hands and he shifts to tuck it against his jacket.
"Oh he would hate that." Kelly doesn't hide her smile now, a slight upturn of her mouth with a bright spark in her eyes.
"I know." John allows himself to slouch in the seat and watch the small ball of fur nap against him.
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Edit: This fic now has fanart by the lovely fablepatron - link here
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