"Michael - you do know that when I said 'get a haircut'..."
"Uh, yes, sir?"
"...Never mind. It's better than it was."
"Okay!"

Knock. Knock, knock. Try not to dent the door. In the corridor outside his boss's office, Caboose paced up and down nervously.
Eventually, a reply came. "Ah; come in, Michael."
"Um! Okay, sir!" He almost pulled the door off its hinges.
"...and sit down. I think we have a few things we need to ... talk about." Caboose dropped into the offered seat with an alarming creak. Across the desk from him, his boss gave him a friendly smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, hidden behind a pair of dark-rimmed glasses.
"...sir?"
"Please, Michael. You sound like you're in the army. Call me Mr. Valenti."
Caboose paused. "Okay, Mr. Valenti, sir!"
The older man folded his fingers together and leant forwards across his desk. "Since you've been here... I have to say, I've been impressed by what you've managed. You had your share of... problems in the early days, am I correct?"
"Um, yes. ...I, uh, broke stuff."
"You didn't break anything important. You've done well." Valenti's eyes narrowed slightly. "In fact, I've been told you're doing a little ... too well. Apart from that... absence a few months back."

Caboose swallowed.

"I watched you in action in the warehouse, the other day. Are you aware that, typically, those boxes would need to be moved by a forklift truck?"
"Uh, I can't drive very well. ...I crash a lot."
"That isn't the point. You're a ... talented individual, Michael. I'm going to ask you something, now. And I want an honest answer. Are you a mutant? Even now?"
"...no?"
Valenti nodded. "I see. But you clearly have a few skills that aren't quite the norm, shall I say? Are you registered?"
It took Caboose a moment to realise just what Valenti was referring to. "I'm not a hero! I, um, don't own any capes or anything..." He managed to close his mouth before any mention of his armour came out of it, already getting the sense that things were going to turn bad quickly if he did.

"Hm." Valenti fiddled with his glasses for a moment. "It's a good job you're working here, then. ...Take a walk with me, Michael. I have a proposition."
"Uh..."
"An ... idea. I believe it'll help the both of us."

As yoinked... meme!

WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE MORE OF? Plot-wise, character-wise. Either concerning my character(s) or not...

-

Posting these bits here as the pups in question don't have big f/lists.

Anyone who plays with young!Chief regularly, advice plz?

Plus a couple of pics from K's universe.

He woke up on a cold concrete floor.
His head span as he looked around, eyes darting backwards and forwards trying to take in what he was seeing. Not the island, not the Gulch; this was a strange place. An unfamiliar, cloudy, darkened city, but one a lot like many he'd seen in recent times.
No armour, he realised. He was down to the bare undersuit. And what was more, he wasn't alone.

My name is Omega...

"Wake up, sleeping beauty," a mocking voice said. "Or are you happy where you are?"
He just about leapt to his feet. "Shut up!" he yelled, his voice sounding a little strange to his own ears.
"Or what'll you do?"
"This." A crude move but one effective enough. The gang leader dropped, and he grabbed his gun. They'd pay for stealing his armour. They'd taste oblivion! They'd...

My name is O'Malley...

It didn't matter, he'd beat them! Take them all down, as he did so many times, as he did at Battle Creek. Perfectly aligned shots, smacking any who came too close directly with the weapon; a perfect routine. Something felt a little strange, though. His thoughts felt out of sync, shadowy and elusive. But it was all okay, he was fighting them! This was what he was made for! They fought back, but they were no match...

My name is Michael J. Caboose.

He froze, eyes wide in terror, hands white on the gun. It all began to rush into his mind. Flashes of what he'd done and what he'd become, the blood on so many worlds that he'd been responsible for spilling. Too many lives lost when he'd told himself no more fighting. The weapon fell to the floor.

"What the frack is he doing? Get him!"
With that, the assault that had stopped for a brief moment restarted. He couldn't make himself fight back, now. All he could do was endure the assault the best he could - and try to escape. Projectiles flew past him as he ran, gunshots grazing his arm, barbed wire tearing under his grasp and making the wounds worse. All he knew was he had to get away. Run for it; dodge down alleyways and through a door that presented itself into a warehouse.

Immediately, bright light assaulted his eyes. Artificial and natural at the same time, and a familiar landmark in the middle of it all. How had he managed that...?! He didn't stop until he'd crashed into a couch, shuddering.

But it was over. Friendly faces, helping hands, all offering him support. He didn't deserve it.

But it was done.

((So. Getting artistic again as I've realised that my OOC icon might just need an update sometime soon what with the fact the hairstyle's completely wrong now. XD

It started there and I got carried away... did the rest of my Halo-pups to match, (and while I was at it, sketched them). It's been ages since I've worked on this lot.))

( Aww, look at them... )

((Aaand... while I'm in pixel land... anyone want one of their own pup? I'll need a decent pic to work from otherwise it'll be winging it, but apart from that... open for requests!))

( And meme is here. )

Once upon a time, Caboose could hardly remember the days before he wore the armour. Now, he had too many memories, and a mind not strong enough to take them.

Omega had left traces behind; not a whole mind any more, but faint recollections. Names and faces and locations as if seen through a fog. It'd been tricky learning which were his own and which weren't again when he had returned to his own mind.

And now, others joined them. The recollections of the time of the reality explosion were as clear as any other memories he had, the brief days when he'd been 'a real Spartan'. Where he'd had so many allies closer than his wide family had been in the true course of history. They weren't all. The dim memories of the days before that remained, reflections of reflections. He distantly remembered sitting on a hilltop, hearing Will crack jokes about their instructors; helping Kurt talk a whole tray of dessert out of the mess hall staff and running it back to the barracks - and coming near to tears the day he'd heard he died; fighting an onslaught of Grunts and Jackals with his squad and coming out triumphant.
He'd been part of something, then. Able to take a full part in their operations, even if he hadn't been the one coming up with any of the ideas.

He knew that it wasn't real, that it hadn't 'really happened', any longer. He could remember his real life.

And the differences stood out so sharply it hurt to touch them.

((Saw this about. Sounded like fun.))
( Ask The Pups: Meme )

...I don't like it.

If the stuff with me being a Blue used to be real and everyone remembers it being real now but I don't...

I don't want to be one! That civil war is not doing anything. It is just people shooting at people because they can and there are no real commanders and no real armies. I don't want to be there. I want to be here with my squad where I am doing things and making a difference.

I like reality the way it is.

That was just really, really strange. I can't believe I hadn't seen Grif had an alternate before! I would have thought I would have met him. There's one of me from his civil war, too? I'm surprised that I didn't meet him either. It'd be nice to talk.

Older-Robert and York know what colour my armour is, they were on the rescue team when I was captured, why did they ask about everything too? And my name... everyone is acting like there is something wrong with me, there is something different about me. But I'm just how I've always been. (Well, always been since before I started going to the Nexus.) Older-Bob just kept asking me... this is all confusing.

It's weird actually knowing what my surname used to be. I don't know if I like it or don't like it but it sounds familiar so it's got to be right? Hasn't it? I guess my alternate must have told people or something like that.

...how can Tucker have a kid who is a Covie kid? Is that Nexus stuff? It does do weird things like that.

A shudder as if a cold breeze had just passed through him, and Michael-076 rolled over in his bunk. Not like it would wake him up, though - it was well known that if he wanted to stay asleep he had to be thrown out of bed. He'd gotten onto the wrong end of many a DI's shocker when he was younger over that.

Right now, he was dreaming. Spartans all around him in brightly coloured armour; how did that work? You'd be able to see them a mile off! Unless they'd perfected that camouflage technology he'd heard rumours of, but he doubted that even in the dream.
Strange, though - even though he'd slipped into lucidity for a rare moment, this one felt so realistic it was untrue. The scenery was so vivid, this dusty canyon; it was almost like it was a memory. Couldn't be, though. He'd never seen a planet that looked anything like that.

Michael was one of the youngest Spartans, only five years old back in 2517 when they'd been taken. He'd always been the baby of the group in some regards, but he'd always been able to hold his own. They'd been worried for him when the enhancement procedures hadn't sped up his mind in the same way as his body - in fact, the opposite - but they were family, and he wasn't going to be let go. He had his place, and he was more use on the battlefield than in some tactical role, physically one of if not the best of them... so here he was. 2532, twenty years old, part of the toughest force that the UNSC had ever put together.

Though as he finally awoke to face the day, the image of the canyon stayed lingering in his mind.

((Yup. Blame Rassilon. I will also say, on that subject? LOL Doctor Who character names. ;) ))
((( What happened? )))

((Hokay; I'm going to be away from New Years' Eve through to next Thursday. Usual applies, don't know what my internet time is going to be like, will attempt to swing some but no idea. Just letting everyone know so no-one's waiting around for me on the Omegaboose thread, just do whatever you like there; actually, if you ever find things getting slowed down, don't worry about trying to wait for any sort of an order and go for it if you weren't the last person up. Consider the next few days a good chance to get the hell up to the base, if you like... Anyone using the LJ tracking pin thingy? How does that work?

Anyway, enough of that. If I don't have a chance to say between now and then, Happy New Year, everyone!))

Everyone - thank you for the rescuing and the everything.

But does anyone want to do fun stuff that isn't fight stuff? A friend of mine said, she was throwing a party, and she said I could invite friends, and you are friends... so, um, does anyone want to come?
There's food.

((Okay, I've spent today drooling at the Halo 3 trailer, and figured it was worth sharing the results with anyone who might be interested. These are all from various Halo 3 media - the new advert for most of them, but a few are from a behind-the-scenes at Bungie video that did the rounds a while back and there's a few MP-type ones too - I did them ages ago from the original scans that went around the interwebs rather than the hi-res pics that came later; I might redo them with the hi-res art but they look pretty much OK anyway.))
( Icons! )

( Nexus Quiz Questionnaire )

"Let me go! ...Stop it! Please, stop it!"
"Not until I know what I need to know. You should know that. Tell me and this ends."
"Does it end with ...me living?"
"You know that too."

The island known to some as Relic. To Omega - it's known as home. To Caboose - it's currently a prison. He's been trapped in one room; fortunately, there's a communications panel on one wall that Omega forgot to deactivate.
He's sitting in a corner, hands wrapped around his knees and resting his head.

hi

am in evil base of doom on evil island of doom
again
cant get out am trapped am locked in

need help please and not being killed

thanks :(

oh crap do you think he can hear me?
oops

Close call, close call!

"Come back here!" Omega yells as Caboose sprints off through random NPCs crowds outside the main hub of the Nexus.

...Phew. Lost him, he thinks, looking around. He's just found himself next to the familiar green lights of a teleporter, too - aha, back to the Gulch! He jumps through before Omega can catch him.

Immediately, he realises something is seriously wrong.

This? This isn't Blood Gulch. He knows where it is, though. It looks all too familiar.
"...oops." He goes to tap at the PINpoint on his wrist, and just taps fresh air. It's accompanied by a sudden vision of it sitting on his bedside table.
"...double oops."
The teleporter seems to be passworded, and he can't remember what the password is. If it's not 'password', he's a little bit sunk.

One option left.

Time to run again. This could get tricky.

I hope this is worth it.
I can't see how it wouldn't be, though.

((Any objections to the main plot finale happening/starting this weekend?))