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a guy shoots at me with a sniper rifle and I catch the bullet in my teeth and eat it, but he saw that coming and put poison in the bullet, but I saw that coming and drank an antidote ahead of time, but all those weird chemicals still give me a really bad kidney stone a few days later and I pass out from pain and crash my car into, by pure coincidence, the sniper
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Stuffâs been going missing around COBRA HQ, and it looks like one of the organizationâs newestâ and most reclusiveâ operatives is to blame.
(Skitter belongs to me, Two-Step belongs to @peachy-wafflez, everyone else belongs to my other RPG buddies! Iâll add their credits once I know everyoneâs usernames.)
I donât get paid enough for this.
Dennis finally lifted his gaze from the newspaper, glaring none-too-nicely at the three Vipers invading his office. One Alley, one standard, and one Crimson. Delightful.
âSo⌠you think someone stole your shitâ why is that my problem? Just take the complaint to your officer.â
The standard Viper slipped their helmet offâ Leonard, a first-year. Dennis had seen him around the break rooms once or twice, but they hadnât spoken before; the most Dennis had ever noticed about him was that his shirt was always wrinkled. Even now, it looked like heâd pulled it from the back of his dresser and thrown it on last minute. Dennisâ frown deepened, and the Viper flinched.
âNot just someone, the new ninja! And we already tried to tell Brigsby. Sheâs never met them, she just thinks one of us is doing it as a prank. Last night they raided the supply locker and stole her goggles, now sheâs saying if we donât find the culprit ourselves, sheâll send a random dozen of us to the Scorpions. Iâm not joining those assholes because of that stupid ninja creep!â
The Alley Viper nodded. âWeâre not the only ones either, thereâs been complaints all over the COBRAChat. Which youâd know if you bothered to check it.â
Dennis turned back to his paper. This was the first he was hearing about a new ninja, but it didnât sound like anything that was his business. âFormal complaints are supposed to go through emailââ
âOhmygod, Dennis.â The Crimson Viper threw up her hands. âWe donât need you, thereâs plenty of us to deal with this. But theyâve holed up in the boiler wing and none of us have a key. Surely the Commander gave you a spare for your inspections. Weâll bring it right backââ
That caught his attention. Dennis sat the paper down on the armrest and leaned forward. âWhy are they in the boiler wing?â
Leonard shrugged. âI donât knowâ secret ninja ritual or something? But theyâve been hanging out in there for a while, I know the Toilet-Vipersââ
âAhem.â
ââthe janitors said theyâve caught them in there a few times. For all we know theyâve hidden a body back there somewhere. So can we borrow your key? Thereâs a good number of us who want a word with them.â
Dennis was already lacing up his boots. âNo, none of you can go in there. The Commander wants any complaints about our⌠more acrobatic associates handled by administrators. The last thing we need is to piss off the Clan when they could be needed for the next mission. Iâll handle it.â He gestured at the vest hanging by the door, and the Crimson Viper tossed it his way as he reached for the helmet tucked beside his armchair. Leonard and the Alley Viper both squinted around the room as Dennis finished gearing up.
âSo⌠how come you get a whole office?â
âIâm Springfieldâs one OSHA representativeâ department heads get offices. A perk for making sure nobody gets killed by anything structural.â
The Alley Viper was now reviewing a small sign posted beside Dennisâ computer. âBut âincidental injury from mutagenic compounds, incendiary devices, weaponry, or any and all actions associated with COBRA military forcesâ are⌠âexempt from coverage?ââ
âIt was in the fine print, man. I can help if a building falls on youâ itâs not my job if you get stabbed or something. Thatâs under the officers.â Dennis was still working on his helmet- the hard hat was supposed to click into a slot on the main mask, but sometimes it took a bit more elbow grease⌠click! Finally. He shooed the other three towards the door, eager to get them out before someone moved something. âAlright, alright, everyone out. Letâs go see if we can get everything back without getting the Commander involved.â
***
In all honesty, Dennis had expected the Vipers to be fibbing.
Maybe not outright lying, but heâd been sure theyâd been blowing things out of proportion. It was an unfortunate consequence of having hundreds of people all living together, working together, every second of every day in the same small-but-not-really town. People butted heads and sometimes property got stolen. Heâd even had to file his own complaints before (though heâd always emailed them, like a proper Viper). So heâd guessed there was probably one or two other people involved, nothing too extreme, and heâd be able to retrieve everything within the hour so he could enjoy the rest of his lunch break in peace.
Instead, there was at least a dozen angry people crowded around the doors to the boiler, seemingly taking turns trying to bust the doors down. It wasnât just Vipers eitherâ he could see several other operatives grumbling to each other. The Commanderâs bodyguard, Two-Step, was there tapping her foot beside a stranger in a white coat. The caduceus patch on their shoulder marked them as a member of the COBRA Health Corps, not one of Mindbenderâs scientists; Dennis was relieved. He much preferred a docâ if Mindbender had been involved, the door probably would have been opened already, but the culprit would already be on their way to âdisciplinary testing.â Not even the worst of the worst deserved that.
Another stranger was leaning against the wall, rubbing her forehead. A small drone was hovering above her; it turned its camera to face him as the group approached, and the stranger looked up, revealing an insectile mask with no visible glass or eyeholes. He flinched, startled, but the drone and its owner both turned back to the door, seemingly uninterested.
âHey, Dirt! You gonna open this door for us, or am I gonna have to âborrowâ your key myself?â Two-Stepâs voice was light despite the threat; unlike the rest, she seemed to be at her usual level of cheery mild aggression, and she smiled as he walked up to her. âIâve got a ninja that needs a wallopin,â apparentlyââ
âNo! No âwallopingâŚâ god.â The doctor shook their head, then nodded to Dennis. âIgnore her, please. Iâm MedKit, and thatâs one of the Corpsâ patients in there. They werenât supposed to leave their room this early, but someone left their door unlocked⌠anyways, theyâll be an operative once theyâre well. I know they havenât exactly been making friends, but Iâm under strict orders to return them to the medical bay in one piece.â
Dennis nodded, pulling out his pen and pad. The rest of the group had noticed him by now, and clustered around him as he began to take notes.
âAlright, I need to know everything thatâs been taken or your complaints so I can address them with the ninja in questionâŚâ He paused, glancing back at MedKit. âWhatâs their name?â
MedKit shrugged. âNo ideaâ Iâm not entirely sure they have one. Current call sign is âSkitter,â though. Iâve heard it was the Commanderâs choice, word in the halls is that they like bugs or something. Theyâre a bit⌠eccentric.â
âArenât we all. Okay, I know about the goggles, what else? No, no, one at a timeââ
By the time everyone was finished, Dennis had two pagesâ worth of stolen goods to recover and he was deeply regretting his choice to participate. In a matter of days, Skitter had stolen food, weaponry, clothing, honey from the hospitalâs first aid, and a drone, yet nobody had managed to see them, much less catch them in the act. Their photo also hadnât been released yet, so nobody had any idea what they looked like or how they had managed to break into restricted areas.
It was borderline shameful. Dennis tucked his pen into his pocket, shaking his head. âYou all should be concernedâ security this slack is a problem that could attract the Commanderâs attention. Fix it, pronto. Now, Skitterâs made a grocery store of the base and weâre all out of shopping carts, so Iâll need a couple of people to come with me and help carry everything. Any volunteers?â
For a crowd whoâd been so eager a moment ago, there was a shocking lack of hands. Dennis rolled his eyes. âAlright, Two-Step. At least someoneâs putting their money where their mouth is⌠and you. Call sign?â
âPanoptes.â
âThank you. Those drones look like theyâll be useful in case theyâre in a crevice somewhere. Not sure if you guys have been in this area before, but it gets a bit tight in places. And you, MedKitâ youâve got their files and they might be hurt. Youâll be joining us. Anyone else?â
The others had all backed away, kicking their feet or paying unusually close attention to the floor and walls. Lovely. Dennis sighed and pulled out his key ring; he had a copy of every physical key in the base, the only override for when the keypads bustedâ or in this case, someone locked themselves in. It took him a minute to find the right one, and another second to shimmy it into the old lock and get the deadbolt turned. He let Two-Step push the door open as he put his keys back.
âHey Dirt, whereâs the light switch?â
âThereâs not a switch, itâs automatic.â Dennis looked back up to find the boiler room pitch-dark, with Two-Step nearly hidden in the gloom just a few feet beyond the doorway.
ââŚwell then the lights are busted.â After a moment, an all-too familiar ksh-flick echoed in the gloom, and a tiny flame lit up her face. Dennie bristled, storming into the dark after her as he reached for it.
âDo not use your lighter, this is the last place youâd want to do thatâ!â
A bright beam of light lit up the pair; Panoptesâ drone slowly flew overhead, a flashlight on its underside illuminating the surrounding room. Each room in the boiler wing was at least two stories, large enough to accommodate the maze-like tangle of pipes needed to heat the COBRA base. The droneâs light wasnât bright enough to reveal the ceiling or far corners, but Dennis could see well enough not to trip, and to spot a small smudge of rust-red on the floor. Then another. And another, a crooked path or drops that led to a door on the right side of the room. An empty jar was caught in the frame, keeping it from shutting completely. Dennis couldnât quite make out the words on the label, but several yellow hexagons gave him a pretty good idea of what he was looking at.
âSorry, MedKit. I think the honeyâs a lost cause.â
The others followed him over to the door as he scooped up the jar, using his boot to wedge the door open. Just as before, the lights for the hallway beyond refused to come on, but there was a very faint, red glow from a doorway deeper in. Whatever Skitter had done to the wiring, theyâd spared the emergency lighting in that area; if his memory served, it held one of the main pipe lines.
MedKit leaned past him. ââŚthat looks⌠promising? Itâs not like they can see in the dark either.â
âDonât be too sure⌠ninjas can do some weird shit.â Two-Step squinted down the hall. âI feel like Iâve played games like this beforeâ this is the part before the jump scare.â
âThere wonât be any jump scares or âweird ninja shit.ââ Dennis sat the jar back in the frame and gestured for the drone to move ahead. Panoptes had been watching them all, rubbing idly at one temple. Something seemed to be up with her, but he wasnât in the mood to pry. âWeâre gonna go in, ask them nicely to come back to the hospital and to give everything back, and then theyâll do that and everyone wins⌠Two-Step, you go first.â
She huffed, but took point as they all followed the drone into the hallway. The flashlight didnât reveal anything of note besides a few dead roaches; Dennis made a note to tell the janitors.
âAlright, keep it quiet from here on out⌠maybe theyâll be sleeping or something, make our job easierâŚâ
Back in the first room, something shifted in the shadows at the ceiling. A long, thin body rose, perched on one of the pipes that ran haphazardly across the space. It froze for a moment, watching until the door finally clinked shut against the jar, then slipped over to a nearby vent, its cover long since removed. In seconds, the figure had disappeared into the tunnel, leaving the room abandoned again as both parties headed deeper into the dark.
The ants go marching, one by one...
A nice little thing of Skitter, my G.I. Joe RPG character (y'all find a group and play, it's so fun). They're COBRA, ex-Arashikage, bug-obsessed, and joined here by some slightly more insectoid versions of the rest of their party.
I'll be posting their ref at some point with more information, but in the meantime if anyone's curious about them I'm happy to answer questions, I love talking about my OCs.
I think cartoon/Marvel comic CoCo would be a Communications major with a double minor in Political Science and Theater! The theater seems to be a hobby thing to many people, but heâs using it for future disguises, trickery, and speech purposes.
Energon Universe CoCo double majors in Biology and Engineering as well as an extra in internship in a lab somewhere- he seems like the kind of go-getter to have 20+ class hour semesters.
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G.I. Joe: My Version #2, this time with everyone's favorite morally questionable ninja! I always thought the backstory from the live-action films was really interesting, so that's what I'm basing him off of. Since that means Zartan's gang is involved, my SS design takes inspiration from protective cyclist gear, which blends surprisingly well with the ninja armor styles of the series. He's also got a bit more of a punk-ish vibe to fit with his Dreadnoks origin. The face paint is to reference both Zartanâs mask(?) and Zanderâs face paint, along with paralleling the cheek scar for backstory reasons.
I also thought it might be fun to include music that fits the vibes of these redesigns, so here's SS's:
(Backstory + extra stuff below the cut! Also, if anyone has any asks or anything for this, by all means ask away! It helps me figure out how I want things to go.)
Storm Shadow was an arrogant child who used his position in the clan to make enemies rather than friends, so when his uncle was killed with Storm's weapons, no one argued that he was innocent of the crime. He had no choice but to flee for his life... right into the path of the shapeshifting assassin Zartan (who was also, suspiciously in the area on "business." You can guess what kind). Having a ninja seemed useful, so SS was swiftly drafted into the Dreadnoks, where he became a loyal, if difficult assassin; he sees the bikers and their leader as his true family now, and he takes on a younger-brother-ish role in the group. It wasn't the most responsible way to grow up and his maturity reflects that, but he's still a powerful fighter, and through Zartan's machinations, another clan of ninjas has recently adopted him as their leader. Unbeknownst to Zartan, however, he's also got a secret weapon of his own he's been hiding, something he picked up on a trip to Arashikage territory...
Other things:
- He has a bike of his own; teaching him to drive is one of the Dreadnoks' favorite memories with him.
- He still has the dual katanas that can fuse, however, they are not Arashikage; they're from the Red clan.
- He is genuinely liked by the bikers, who will usually call him "Slash" (he's not too fond of the nickname but doesn't care enough to complain). Zartan is the only one that really uses Storm Shadow.
- He struggles with mixing ninja traditions with the biker aesthetics of the Dreadnoks, and will switch between outfits depending on who he's with.
- Occasionally uses British curses, then gets embarrassed over it.
I have been on a massive G.I. Joe kick this weekend, so here's a "redesign" of everyone's favorite wannabe overlord. His concept is already pretty much perfect, I just wanted to combine some of my favorite aspects from different designs into one; I'm thinking about having my own version of the G.I. Joe world since my favorite versions of the characters are all over the place.
Anyways, love this guy and his stupid squeaky voice. I included the sword from Resolute + some glass needles full of algesic venom- the perfect weapon for him. Just jab someone and leave them to scream while you make a tactical retreat.