spaceracist: (don't be like that)
[Well, this has been a hell of a day...couple of days? Emile's not entirely sure, since his mission clock isn't synching with anything. He's completely out of his element here, especially after the little white fuzzy bastards put him in some kind of stasis a couple times. The idea of those things controlling everything here--which they clearly do--isn't comforting in the least to him. He's also not entirely sure what to make of this little snake...thing that he supposedly "made" from those weird pieces.

At least there was something to fight here, and a few battles with Nightmares had done a lot to calm him down. So now he was poking around with the communicator, and wonder of wonders there do in fact seem to be other people here. Might as well see what kind of afterlife he's landed in.

The video clicks on to show armor that might be familiar to anyone who's been paying attention to the Freelancers, but there's a very distinctive skull pattern carved into the domes gold surface of his smooth EVA helmet.]

This is Noble-Four requesting contact from any UNSC-friendly forces in the area. This don't make any goddamn sense.

--And are those little white bastards shitting me or is it really called "munny"?
unrecovered: (Default)
[The video flickers on to show both Wash and North in what looks like one of the hotel rooms. It’s far enough away that it’s obvious they’ve set it up on a flat surface somewhere. Wash is still wearing his helmet; old habits die very hard.]

Hey. Does anyone know anything about these Dream Eater things? We know they can fight and that you can make them from little rainbow pieces; aside from that, I’ve got nothing.

[There’s a squeak from offscreen, and Wash looks over-] Hey, get over here. [-and leans out of the frame.]

[North, meanwhile, has his helmet off, because all things considered, this area’s probably safe and he can let his guard down a bit. ]

Also, do they all carry loose change or something? It’s an odd way of making money.

[He glances over at Wash.]

Everything alright, Wash?

Yeah, fine, just- c’mere!

[There’s more squeaking offscreen, and finally Wash leans back into the frame, pulling his bat into his lap. The bat squeaks piteously, and it’s pretty obvious that one wing is bandaged.]

Is there a vet around here, or someone who knows how to take care of this? [He gestures at the bandage.] I can do this much, but that’s about it.

[Responses will come from both Wash ([personal profile] unrecovered) and North ([personal profile] brodakota).]


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