#bxttle-cry

Sokol stared up at the rust-red sky, then back down at the two shock troopers by his side, idly thumbing the safety on and off of his rifle. Not even his rifle--some dead man’s, that he’d scavenged two weeks ago. It was his only option. Three months into the siege, the defense of Reach was stretched paper-thin, on the verge of collapse; supply lines were no longer something that could be relied on. That dead man’s rifle had been in front of him, and replacements were very far behind.

He barely even knew the Marines, either. Like their ordnance, their unit was scavenged, scraped together from whatever men could be found. He knew their names--Harkness and Rajbandhari--and their old units--2nd and 19th Battalions. Beyond that, all he knew was their rendezvous. Callsign NOBLE, approximately one and a half kilometers from ONI SWORD Base.

Fucking ONI.

It was always fucking ONI.

He heard the crunch of heavy boots on the rocks behind him and turned, instinctively clicking the safety to auto. Two things made footsteps that heavy, and he’d seen vastly more Elites than Spartans in his service. Thankfully, he lucked out, and a human silhouette stood stark against the skyline.

Dark bags could be seen under the mans eyes, he couldn't remember when was the last time he got some rest, but that didn't matter to him right now. There was so much the needed to be done, and he wanted to get them done before more things pilled up again. He looked at the other, shaking his head softly, fighting off the urge to drift off and fall asleep. Thomas rubbed his eyes, the glow of the lights burning them.

"Is this really necessary? I really don't need to be put to bed, I've had plenty of rest. I closed my eyes for over 3 minutes, power nap as they call it."

“The most visible one, here along my jaw and neck, was actually post-Covenant War. Innies decided that after the UNSC almost got wiped out protecting humanity was the perfect time to start shit again. They hit Luna Starport with an IED back in ‘54 in hopes of taking one of the few public S-IIs out of the fight before they started their rebellion.

crimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most?

((Nisha is very high-energy; if she likes something or someone, she will let everyone know, repeatedly and excitedly))

champagne: does your muse drink (alcohol)? are they a heavy drinker, if so?

   Kitt and knowing when to rest are so far away from speaking terms that knowing when to rest can’t even call in order to ask to have the kids back.

      Even before the Battle of Earth, Kitt was never fond of sleeping: the longer her eyes were closed, the likelier someone could get the drop on her. Without Isiah around to watch her back and the taking of further combat deployments, she’s grown reliant on (admittedly somewhat habitually abusive of) intravenal caffeine stims to the point that she developed insomnia.