Red vs Blue: Repetition (IC|INVITE ONLY)

[Anowa]

Red vs Blue: Repetition

>>OOC<<

Sgt. Graham
Pvt. Church
Blood Gulch

It was a peaceful day in Blood Gulch, the birds were singing, the grass was swaying, a slight breeze was wafting cold air into the canyon, and no one had been shot at yet... Yet. Though at one side of the canyon were a duo of blue troopers, their voices seemingly carrying across the winds in an indecipherable mumbling. Currently watching their sworn adversaries with apt attention, and as a result, probably burning off a few brain cells.

"Hey, Graham?"

"Yeah Church?"

"Why the fuck are you laying down?"

Graham paused as she rolled over a bit to look at the still standing man, "Gee, Church, I dunno. I've been feeling a bit tired lately."

'Wait really?"

Graham just stared at Church through her helmet, "No dumbass, we're backdropped against a fucking orange rock wall. Blue doesn't make for good camo in this godforsaken canyon."

Church shrugged, "Yeah that's fair, but even if those red dumbasses would think to look up here I doubt they'd be capable of hitting anything." though in a sign of concession he got into a crouch, "God this is gonna ruin my back."

Graham snorted as she looked back through her rifle's ACOG, "Better than fighting in a war of genocide."

"Yeah I guess." a pause as Church's rifle hung over the dirt, watching the red base. "Speaking of, weren't you fighting in the war? Why the fuck are you here? You'd be like, the only person in this canyon who's somewhat competent, well, besides me."

"You can't hit the broadside of a barn Church. But yeah, I was in the war, don't like to talk about it." memories of the war were somewhat of a sensitive topic with the woman, what she'd done and seen could only be guessed at, but given that she was the only one in the canyon with even a remotely larg array of tactical knowledge, it was obvious she had experience.

Regardless, Church found the woman's answer fair, he had stuff he didn't want to talk about either. Not exactly fair to push others to spill their secrets when he wouldn't spill his own.

The rockface was silent for a good minute or two before the younger of the two broke the silence, "So what do you think they're talking about down there?"

Graham shrugged, or at least did her best from a pron e position. "No clue. Though it's kinda ironic that there's only two red guys on an entire team of people who're supposed to be red... Two ripe tomatoes in the whole fucking bushel."

"The fuck kind of analogy is that?" Church lowered his rifle, seemingly done with the whole recon thing, "What did you work on a farm or something?"

"No, I just know a bit of stuff here and there." Graham settled herself into a crouch as well, "Come on, we should probably get back to base, before Clement bathes us in bleach again."

Church shook his head, disgust in his voice as he spoke, "Oh God."

[Kentucky Fried Land]

Blue Base
PFC. Wilmer Clement
”Clement”

PFC. Wilmer Clement stared out at the vast canyon. It was filled to the brim with rocks, grass, a few dead trees, and… that was about it. A base on each end of the canyon too, he supposed, but when did he ever get to see that other base? Just Blue Base. All day, every day. Blue Base, rocks, grass, a few dead trees, and a team that were mostly complete assholes. But that was besides the point. What wasn’t besides the point was that it was beyond dirty out here. This canyon, just crawling with bacteria and disease and he was sure his squad mates were festering with it too. He had seen at least one of them leave the bathroom without washing their hands, the nasty fuckers.

He scanned the horizon, searching for anything, looking for something that was out there. Maybe Graham and Church, headed back from their scouting trip out to the Red Base. He hadn’t volunteered this time around; he was still reeling from Captain Flowers keeling over after a heart attack took him in his sleep. He remembered touching his disgusting, likely disease ridden ankles as he helped carry the body into its shallow grave. How they dug it, he had no clue. Maybe Li shot a grave up while he wasn’t watching. Clement continued scouring the landscape, finally finding his target. He turned to his guard duty partner, Pvt. Bates.

“Okay, okay. I got it. I spy with my little eye… something… brown.” He stared out at the object; not a hard guess, he figured. He gripped a little harder on his assault rifle, which was still lowered, as it had been two hours ago, and as it would be two hours from then.

[Vacif]

Pvt. Li
Blue Base

Li sat in their common area whistling tunelessly as he threw darts at a dart board. He was... well he was off duty. There wasn't a great deal of things that they could do. Food was already prepped, all systems were as good as they were getting, Clem had cleaned out the base several times over, and there wasn't much else that could be done. It didn't help that this canyon didn't have connection to Waypoint, so they were stuck watching the same things, listening to the same things, and talking to the same people since day one.... Well maybe not talking to all the same people. Captain Flowers was dead. Died of a heart attack in his sleep, but he didn't have a history of heart problems. Weird.

Regarding that, he'd done his best with the grave but what the hell was this canyon made out of? Mithril? He got three feet before he chucked a grenade in there. Raymond had picked up gardening since he'd been reassigned but the tough ground made it hard to plant anything. He'd settled for planter beds made out of whatever the hell he could get his hands on. Mostly old boxes. Clem was an absolute pain on to deal with whenever he went gardening though. What was his deal with germs anyways? Been here weeks, and he never told them why.

Sighing he concluded yet again, same shit different day. "BS orders, BS posting, BS Clem screwing with his things, BS BS BS." He mumbled to himself. Cleaning up the darts neatly, he went for a walk. With his rifle. Might as well hit the "range".

[Corsaiir]

Collab Post
Pvt Bates
PFC Clement
Blue Base

Bates looked around at his surroundings briefly. Its just walls, dirt, and grass after all. "Its dirt isn't it? Its always dirt, and if its not dirt then its the canyon walls. This is the worst game ever." Bates stated then sighed. "Ok my turn now. I spy with my little eye something.... brown again. Everything is brown in this dam canyon! Man, guard duty sucks."

"No, actually it's-" Before Clement could answer, Bates did it for him. "Okay, yeah, it was the canyon wall." He listened to Bates attentively, still looking at the canyon before him. "Maybe we need to find a new game. I would say the license plate game, but we don't have any cars out here. I dunno man. Twenty Questions?"

"That car idea... we should really ask the sgt if he can call us down a vehicle or two. For uhh, ya know killing the reds and all mainly, but also for sick races. I don't even see a need to guard our base. The reds never do anything anyways. Our time would be much better spent getting air and going fast, man I do love driving fast vehicles."

"We should totally get a jeep. That would be fucking sweet. As long as it came with polish and stuff. And..." He paused, thinking of something Bates said for a moment. "Wait... isn't Sergeant Graham a girl? I mean, she doesn't really count, but still. On a technicality, Graham is a girl."

Bates thinks back for a second. "Oh yeah.. i did call her a he. Well. Be a pal and don't tell her i said that. It's not like there are cameras here ha. haha....." he says, looking around behind him towards the base. "I hope there arn't at least. I've done stuff..."

Clement looked behind him when Bates mentioned the camera, and adjusted his rifle. "I mean, I wouldn't put it past her. She seems kind of... I dunno, intense?" He coughed a little, then looked at Bates. "You've done stuff? Like, what KIND of stuff?"

"Woah woah woah what is this an inquisition? Just stuff, ya know. stuff" Bates stands in awkwardness for a second before coughing and changing the topic. "So, why isn't Li on guard duty anyways? Its not like there is more to do in the base compared to outside of the base."

Clement considered this for a moment. "Uh, why would I know? He's probably cooking a Hot Pocket or something down there." Clement looked back at the stairs. "...think we should go check on him? It's not like the Reds are gonna show up anytime soon. What if he like, slipped and fell and hit his head? Or what if he had a heart attack like Flowers? Do these suits come equipped with, like, LifeAlert or anything?"

"It's not like anyone is here currently to tell us not to" Bates looks around just to make sure the sgt is actually not here. "probably not, its the army, i would be surprised if these suits could even stop a bullet." Bates nods his head towards the base entrance and starts to head inside with Clement following to look for Li.

[Vacif]

Pvt. Li
Blue Base

As the two on duty marched down the stairs back to base Raymond left through the eastern entrance. With him was your run of the mill MA5B assault rifle and an M6D with the according magazines. Striding away from the base he went to his usual spot for target practice. It was a small protrusion in the earth forming a kind of defilade. This firing position overlooked a small area in front of the canyon wall. A trio of near indestructible trees sat in the empty space. Like everything else in this canyon the trees were made of some ungodly tough material. They just tanked bullets. And grenades. Scorch marks marred the surface of the trees. Red humanoid silhouettes were painted roughly on the trees.

Lowering himself down onto the ground he shouldered the standard issue rifle and fired off several bursts. The rounds bouncing off of the trees like usual. As he fired he switched between targets and fire modes. In hind sight it probably would of been good to inform the others of his actions but they were on duty. They would of seen the reds before they heard them. Regardless it was too late now, the others would find out soon enough.

[Beiarusia]

PFC Daisy Bonneville & PFC Lily Bonneville
[ RED TEAM ]

---

Red Base, Blood Gulch

The Bonneville twins had been reassigned to the Blood Gulch outpost and had spent the previous two weeks — thirteen days, seven hours, twenty-four minutes, and forty-nine seconds to be exact — acclimating to the arid environment, one that could best be described in various shades of brown with the odd sticker-bush growing with stubborn determination like the Little Engine That Could if said locomotive was a sticker-bush and the hill a dry canyon. Daisy Bonneville, the younger twin, was positively overjoyed with their new assignment; Lily Bonneville, the elder twin, was not, being hot and bothered in a literal sense or, more to the point, hopelessly depressed about much everything else, being the sort to see the glass as half empty even when completely full. Blood Gulch was a backwater, a dead-end posting, the dustbin of the UNSC where fuckwits and liabilities were conveniently swept away where their idiosyncrasies could present only the incomplete notion of a problem far enough away from anything that truly mattered, similar to how one would segregate the fireworks factory from the match emporium. Daisy was content to waste her days playing in the unforgiving sun as if on vacation (and considering the lack of formal chain-of-command at Red Base the young woman had free reign to do as she wished) whereas Lily could only ponder the horribleness of it all, their being hidden away like the redheaded stepchild that not only brought shame and dishonor to the family but was quite ugly like some cosmic insult to injury.

Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

For the last few days Lily had preoccupied herself with repairing the radio that had been nearly obliterated in a game of Tag gone wrong. The work was boring, tedious even, reconnecting wires or else soldering bits that should have never needed to be soldered, but it kept her mind busy, which kept her from thinking of how terrible her life had become since the accident, which kept her from simply drowning herself in the latrine since the roof was too low to feasibly jump. Few had come down to bother her in the little maintenance closet that had since become a workshop, which suited the introvert just fine, except for Daisy who could hardly go more than a few hours without the companionship of her twin.

"-and I just kick it as hard as I can, you know, like I did that one time to Bobby DeMarco in the third grade after he pushed you in the mud, and it just goes flying over the boulder and all the way to Blue Base on the other side of the canyon," Daisy said from where she sat atop the small table that currently served as Lily's desk, moving her hands in a comically animated fashion as if that would make her exaggerations all the more accurate — the next time the story was told the soccer ball would have hit a Blue on the head. Lily merely nodded along as she pieced together the busted radio. Daisy continued with, "There was a scorpion, too, not the tank but the bug, or insect, or whatever it is that has all the legs and the stinger, and I thought it was cool so I tried to pick it up and it stung me so I crushed it with a rock and it left this cool mess that would look good on a T-shirt."

"Fascinating," Lily muttered, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She set down her tools and tried the radio. It turned on, which was an improvement, but the antennae was failing to find a signal. Lily frowned and went back to work.

"I think the Sergeant wanted us to do something today. I think. Maybe. I wasn't paying attention because, you know, I had just found the soccer ball and I really really really needed to give it a good kick, so I kinda just ignored him which is easy 'cause he never says anything interesting anyway." She paused for breath. "You should take a break. Get some sun."

"I hate the sun."

"Then let's get something to eat. I'm hungry and you probably haven't eaten since the day before yesterday." A more-or-less true assumption if one didn't count the open box of crackers as adequate sustenance. "I heard a rumor that the cafeteria has tacos and complimentary sombreros. It'll keep the sun off you, promise, but they probably don't have many, so we gotta get going before they run out."

Daisy was likely wrong about the rumor she had heard concerning the Mexican food and hats (or she had simply concocted the idea without realizing) but Lily really did need to eat something, so she agreed to leave her lair after she had finished with the radio, which appeased her sister well enough. Not that the radio could be fixed anytime soon, so after an hour the towel was thrown in and the two made their way up to the cafeteria, Daisy leading the way with her loud voice echoing with Lily following in her shadow. Sure enough there were tacos to be had.

[Tayner]

Sergeant Heartbreak
Red Base
Red Team

Heartbreak looked at his armor in the mirror, simply amazed. When he filled out the requisition forum he asked for red armor. Apparently the best they had was orange with red stripes. God damn supply. He thought. He'd have to make the best of it, despite the fact that shiny orange armor basically made him a bullet magnet. He simply finished cleaning his gear before heading to where most of the Reds were congregated at this time. He sat down, helmet on, tray of food in front of him and stared at the food.

"Fuck it." He mumbled before stepping up on top of the chair he was sitting on. "Surprise inspection, outside, ten minutes!" He yelled. "Full battle rattle." He said, heading to grab his weapon, a M45E shotgun. He soon got on the base intercom and made the announcement again before heading outside. He stood still outside the front of the base and watched as they filed out of the base into formation.

"God damn you are some slow motherfukers!" He yelled. "Taco Tuesdays are gone if you aren't in formation in 60 God damn seconds!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. In reality, it had only been five minutes since he made the announcement, but nevertheless he stood at attention with his weapon by his side, awaiting the rest of the team to form up so he could yell at each and every one of them for something. He would make sure they were prepared for an assault on the blues at any given moment, even if he had to make each Red fell less important that the dirt beneath their boots.

[Pacific Brotherhood of Steel]

There are a lot of mysteries that have always captivated humanity. Why are we here? What is the meaning of life? Who or what created us? But none of that mattered here. Nothing mattered here. This place was worthless. Another day of hell in this shithole of a canyon, trapped in his own mind. Steven didn't understand it and he didn't try I pretend to understand it. There were certain things he was never meant to understand. Still didn't make it any better that he wasn't much more than a spectator to his own life. As much as he tried to he couldn't control himself at all. He could see everything that happened. He could hear everything that happened. He could feel everything that happened. But it wasn't him in control.

His body was moving and he could see plainly what was happening. He walked across the top of the red base here in Blood Gulch. On top you could see just off in the distance the Blue base. Two tiny figures dotted the top of their own base. Apparently he wasn't the only one doing the watching. Just at the edge of the base looking over at the blue base was Private Private. A rather slow individual much similar to the one in control of Stevens own body. He was okay enough. Much better company than most others in this canyon all things considered. The one in control of his body decided to walk over to Private most likely to spew inanities at each other.

”Those damn alien bastards are still sitting over there hiding in their base! I know under that armor that they're elites.”

Yes, that's right. Yancey thought the blues were elites because of their armor color. Steven sighed inwardly. This was going to be interesting to listen too at least. If he had his choice Steven would be begging Yancey to tear his helmet off and bludgeon him to death so that he could escape this living hell but he couldn't. He never could. Not usually anyways.

”They aren't aliens, idjit. They just look like ‘em, Yancey.”

Oh how enlightened his body snatcher was.

”Hey, my names not Yancey. It's Private. You got it.”

Oh, what an aggressive retort. What else could he expect out of these buffoons.

”I know Yancey.”

They're going to fight aren't they. Pleasant. Maybe it'll knock some sense into the one who controlled him.

”Then why do you call me that?”

Hm. Well, maybe not then. But the day was still young. It could happen still. You never know. But before the thing that controlled Steven could speak Sargeant Heartbreak started screaming at the top of his lungs telling them to line up for inspection. Today just keeps getting better and better. First he had I listen to these two dolts and now he was going to have to listen to Sargeant Heartbreak shit all over everyone's hopes and dreams. His body started moving in recognition of Sargeant Heartbreak’s barely coherent screaming knowing that if it didn't get down there fast we'd be in the shit.

“Come on Yancey. We gotta go.”