“Hyper-Lethal Vector my ass, Six - a fight between us is over in two fuckin hits! I hit you, you hit the floor!”  How it had reached this point was beyond him, really. Maybe it was her smug attitude, maybe it was the constant poking and prodding at handful of chinks in his armor, the ones she always seemed to be so damn good at chipping away at until he finally lost his temper and shouted something he regretted.  He could vaguely hear Jun’s voice, as if from twenty miles away, but whatever he was saying the words just didn’t penetrate the rage.  “You wanna go, bitch, let’s go!”  All he knew for sure was that this time, she’d gone too far and before he knew it, he was on his feet, halfway across the room, the promise already voiced and it was too late to take back. His rage-addled senses took in everything at once - Emile never lost his edge when he lost his temper, if anything he became more on point and deadly accurate. Usually he never directed his temper against allies either, but when a man was pushed too far, there was only so long that logic prevailed over primal rage.  She smirked back at him, and for just a moment he swore he saw the world through a red filter despite his polarized visor, fully intending to wipe that smile off her face and possibly land her in sickbay for a week. She shifted her weight just a heartbeat or two before he moved within range, fully anticipating the battle they both needed to blow off some steam. God only knew who they’d hurt if they didn’t, when they inevitably tired of diplomacy and took out their aggressions on the myriad annoyances that plagued them daily aboard the Infinity… or what damage they’d do to the vessel herself if they didn’t get it out of their systems.  Emile lunged, aiming a fist for the bridge of Six’s nose.  THUD!  The impact of armored Spartan hitting armored Spartan.  WHUMP-CLANG! The impact of armored Spartan hitting the deckplates hard enough to bow one of them.  Emile registered the crack in his visor around the same time he realized he was flat on his back.  Sonofabitch… it took me eight hours to etch this visor… “OW! God-fuckin-damnitt, what the fuck do they feed you, Six!? This ain’t over! Round two!” Jun-A266 heaved a sigh, wincing as he placed a hand to his forehead, wondering briefly just how Emile had managed to survive this long without knowing when to leave well-enough alone. The thud-thud-clang of his lover hitting the deckplates again, coupled with his next shout, only served to make him wonder even more.  “Ugh… fuckin… nah, nah, this ain’t over, fuckin’ stand still so I can hit you!” THUD! THUD! WHUMP-CLANG!

Truth.

"But I also replaced every round she in said quarters with Blanks, and gave her back her Rats."

MOLTO GRAZIE HOLYSHITOMG

"We are droppin' into Hell, troopers! Time to grow a pair!"

The collected posts of "The Sharpest Lives" RP between myself and AskNobleSix, posted to GoogleDrive with SixMun's permission for your enjoyment. 

The mission, they said, was critical. A small window of opportunity to retrieve an admiral and their family from a well-entrenched group of insurrectionist terrorists, who intended to execute the lot, five people in all, over live broadcasts the closer their final deadline came without their demands being met. The admiral of course would be last, along with the usual threats of executing the lot should the UNSC deploy it's forces to retrieve the admiral. A huge blow to morale and a potential PR disaster if it reached civilian channels.  And so they'd come to him with the assignment, pairing him with just one more Spartan, a III, before hustling the two of them aboard a shuttle and off the UNSC Infinity as soon as they were both in full kit and armed up. Any more than two, the officer who'd handled their briefing had insisted, and there would be too much attention drawn to them, too much risk of exposure. Instead, just the two of them, considering their 'status', would be more than enough. What status that was eluded him.  Either way, it was good to be back in armor and back in action, and the fact that his partner didn't seem the chatty type didn't hurt at all either. She, for her part, had been largely silent during the trip and that suited him just fine. He wasn't particularly in a talking mood, not that he'd ever been a great conversationalist with anyone but his IIs and a handful of others. That was changing, sure, but during this first deployment it was nice to just have the quiet.  "ETA until arrival, 10 minutes." Their pilot called back, and the Chief could feel the slight vibration ripple through the craft as they hit the upper atmosphere of the planet that was their destination.  On touch down, we've got an 11km route from landing to target, He reviewed the mission parameters quietly over his HUD, noting that the last two kilometers were through a semi-urban area, most likely a settlement populated entirely by Insurrectionists. In quiet, out with a bang with five in tow... Here's hoping she's as good as they seem to think,  because I'm not particularly fond of the idea of lone-wolfing this while protecting this many people...