Anders (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unconfines) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lifeofpineapple2015-02-08 12:08 am
unconfines) wrote in lifeofpineapple2015-02-08 12:08 am
Entry tags:
'cause you're hot then you're cold
[It's a disaster. There's no other way to slice it.
It isn't that Blue hadn't prepared a suitable plan of attack, it's that the plan had completely fallen to pieces when it came to getting everyone out. Mission objective complete, technically. The backlash had just been more than they expected. They'd been forced to scatter instead of sticking to the intended extraction; he doesn't know what happened to anyone else.
He's sure the CDC won't care about that part.
His blackglass keeps giving him the same generic error message over and over when he tries to check in on the status of his team, because of course it does. The only other option is to cut his way through underbrush, try to make it back to the temporary camp they'd established at the halfway point. Foreign plantlife catches on his uniform, and he finds himself wishing for the old-fashioned way, not for the first time. Crows don't stop working right when you need them the most.
When he realizes that there's someone else in the brush ahead of him, he stops in his tracks. He isn't particularly subtle; there isn't any way he went unnoticed. He doesn't have much left in him, but he does have enough to make electricity crackle menacingly around his open hand.]
Who's there?
It isn't that Blue hadn't prepared a suitable plan of attack, it's that the plan had completely fallen to pieces when it came to getting everyone out. Mission objective complete, technically. The backlash had just been more than they expected. They'd been forced to scatter instead of sticking to the intended extraction; he doesn't know what happened to anyone else.
He's sure the CDC won't care about that part.
His blackglass keeps giving him the same generic error message over and over when he tries to check in on the status of his team, because of course it does. The only other option is to cut his way through underbrush, try to make it back to the temporary camp they'd established at the halfway point. Foreign plantlife catches on his uniform, and he finds himself wishing for the old-fashioned way, not for the first time. Crows don't stop working right when you need them the most.
When he realizes that there's someone else in the brush ahead of him, he stops in his tracks. He isn't particularly subtle; there isn't any way he went unnoticed. He doesn't have much left in him, but he does have enough to make electricity crackle menacingly around his open hand.]
Who's there?