[A long time ago in some ancient historical landscape where there weren't any alien wars, it was a simpler time with really good - if not slightly meme worthy - music. Among the seas of audio visuals, there was a video for a song, Take On Me, that was only good to watch when one was some delightful level of intoxicated and absolutely bored (something he had been known to experience on occasion).
These motherfuckers reminded Tucker of that video.
It was surreal watching it in real life, even more surreal squashing something that was flat but not flat, not exactly paper but something else, the living embodiment of television static. It didn't take long for someone like him to get tangled up in the worst case of shibari he had ever been a part of. He frantically struggled where he was stuck to a large rock, trapped sitting in the grass with his back flush against it until the lines were shockingly heavy weights and thick bands. Stubbornness made him try harder, which only worked against him in the end, a strangely familiar scenario. If only his sword worked--
The second he heard footsteps, his head jerked up, brown eyes wide. Yes!]
Holy shit, tell me you've got some scissors or something, because safe words sure as hell aren't working.
Quarantine Breached
[There were nightmares, and then there was this. The dark hallways of a dilapidated building echoed with footfalls and breath, the scuttle of something small as it darted around. Tucker didn't think much of it, usually unshaken by the setting of a bad horror movie, until he saw the eyes.
Or. You know. Whatever those lights were.
Robots themselves were not terrifying (unless they were twenty foot tall Mantis' under Caboose's control), but Tucker knew menacing when he heard menacing. Quarantine. Quarantine sounded bad. Quarantine sounded real bad.]
Just so you know, your bedside manner sucks.
[So the Sim Trooper turned and ran, dashing through the twisting maze, shutting any door behind him. Window. Door. Something. He had to find a way outside or get a weapon or something, like an old I.V. pole or pump on an extension cord. Something.
Come on, guys. He could use a little help here.]
The New Farm Simulator Looks Great!
[So, it should be no surprise to anyone that Tucker fell asleep.]
Motherfuck--
[And it should be of no surprise to anyone now that he was actively chasing after these animals with a stupid plan in mind (stupid plans were Blue Team's currency).
Was he totally trying to get in front of them? Yes. Was he also planning on doing some cinematic move where he would grab onto their fur as they ran by and try to climb up onto the top of the leader? Also, yes.
This idiot was probably going to die, and he probably deserved it. But really, what was the big deal? He had seen this happen a ton of times in just about every action movie ever and it looked easy enough.
Lavernius Tucker | Red vs Blue | OTA
[A long time ago in some ancient historical landscape where there weren't any alien wars, it was a simpler time with really good - if not slightly meme worthy - music. Among the seas of audio visuals, there was a video for a song, Take On Me, that was only good to watch when one was some delightful level of intoxicated and absolutely bored (something he had been known to experience on occasion).
These motherfuckers reminded Tucker of that video.
It was surreal watching it in real life, even more surreal squashing something that was flat but not flat, not exactly paper but something else, the living embodiment of television static. It didn't take long for someone like him to get tangled up in the worst case of shibari he had ever been a part of. He frantically struggled where he was stuck to a large rock, trapped sitting in the grass with his back flush against it until the lines were shockingly heavy weights and thick bands. Stubbornness made him try harder, which only worked against him in the end, a strangely familiar scenario. If only his sword worked--
The second he heard footsteps, his head jerked up, brown eyes wide. Yes!]
Holy shit, tell me you've got some scissors or something, because safe words sure as hell aren't working.
Quarantine Breached
[There were nightmares, and then there was this. The dark hallways of a dilapidated building echoed with footfalls and breath, the scuttle of something small as it darted around. Tucker didn't think much of it, usually unshaken by the setting of a bad horror movie, until he saw the eyes.
Or. You know. Whatever those lights were.
Robots themselves were not terrifying (unless they were twenty foot tall Mantis' under Caboose's control), but Tucker knew menacing when he heard menacing. Quarantine. Quarantine sounded bad. Quarantine sounded real bad.]
Just so you know, your bedside manner sucks.
[So the Sim Trooper turned and ran, dashing through the twisting maze, shutting any door behind him. Window. Door. Something. He had to find a way outside or get a weapon or something, like an old I.V. pole or pump on an extension cord. Something.
Come on, guys. He could use a little help here.]
The New Farm Simulator Looks Great!
[So, it should be no surprise to anyone that Tucker fell asleep.]
Motherfuck--
[And it should be of no surprise to anyone now that he was actively chasing after these animals with a stupid plan in mind (stupid plans were Blue Team's currency).
Was he totally trying to get in front of them? Yes. Was he also planning on doing some cinematic move where he would grab onto their fur as they ran by and try to climb up onto the top of the leader? Also, yes.
This idiot was probably going to die, and he probably deserved it. But really, what was the big deal? He had seen this happen a ton of times in just about every action movie ever and it looked easy enough.
It couldn't be that hard, right?]