Categories > Original > Sci-Fi > Red vs Blue: Three Mercs, Three bullets
The blade twirled in between her fingers, the rough, rigid edges not leaving a single scratch on her armored fingers. The Mercenary turned her helmet slightly with the light of the sun glinting on her visor, her blade twirling stopping as she grabbed the knife's hilt. She threw it with ease, the sharpened end piercing through the visor of a former Charon prisoner that was a soldier for the male Mercenaries. She smiled under her helmet as she knew it struck right between the eyes.
She was leaning against the wall of the abandoned Charon base, turning her head to look at her partners, Locus's daughter, Hornet, and Sharkface's daughter, Barracuda. It seemed that only she knew the truth about their parents, Felix wasn't dead, he was just crippled at the moment; Locus was wounded badly; and somehow Sharkface survived the bullets to the neck and still manages to speak. They were tough fuckers, it would take a lot to put them down for good.
She crossed her arms, titling her helmet downwards to look at the seated Hornet cleaning her sniper. "What's the plan?"
"We need intel on them, Darkwatcher," she informed her.
Darkwatcher scoffed, rolling her eyes behind her helmet. "Fuck the intel. There Simulation troopers and two Freelancers." She interlocked her fingers together. "They fit together perfectly, two Freelancers to carry the asses of the Reds and Blues. Intel session over. Suck it, bitch."
"Do you ever shut up?" Barracuda growled at Darkwatcher. She was in her spot, leaning against the blood stained walls, fixing her flamethrower gauntlets. She took them out of her father's armor and put them in her own, proving that she was of his blood. Her helmet was tilted towards her and she could feel the venomous glare shot towards her. Her painted shark smile looked like she had just splattered blood on her helmet and smeared it into a smile.
"Well, I do when I sleep," Darkwatcher shot back, crossing her arms. "You're no better with your constant muttering about how you'll avenge your father like some fucking noblewoman."
Barracuda pushed herself off of the wall, walking over to her with a threat in her body language. Darkwatcher moved to meet her threat, but Hornet threw her arms out to stop the two females from getting into a fight.
"Enough, you two," she barked, shoving them both in opposite directions to force them to back down. "There's no need to start up a fight between each other. We need our focus on the Freelancers, not each other's throats." She lowered her arms, picking up her sniper rifle, cocking the weapon. "Besides, I have all the information on the Reds and Blues, as well as Carolina and Washington."
Darkwatcher yanked her knife out of the dead Charon soldier, sheathing it. "Don't expect miss fussybitch here to protect all the time." She shot her one more glare, looking to Hornet. "At least your father is still alive."
Hornet looked at her, placing her rifle on her back were it snapped in place. "There's no time to talk or think about them, Darkwatcher. Let's get a move on." She motioned them outside, hopping inside of a Warthog.
"When in this conversation, did we say you were to boss us around?" Darkwatcher growled, her hand flicking down to her knife hilt.
She was leaning against the wall of the abandoned Charon base, turning her head to look at her partners, Locus's daughter, Hornet, and Sharkface's daughter, Barracuda. It seemed that only she knew the truth about their parents, Felix wasn't dead, he was just crippled at the moment; Locus was wounded badly; and somehow Sharkface survived the bullets to the neck and still manages to speak. They were tough fuckers, it would take a lot to put them down for good.
She crossed her arms, titling her helmet downwards to look at the seated Hornet cleaning her sniper. "What's the plan?"
"We need intel on them, Darkwatcher," she informed her.
Darkwatcher scoffed, rolling her eyes behind her helmet. "Fuck the intel. There Simulation troopers and two Freelancers." She interlocked her fingers together. "They fit together perfectly, two Freelancers to carry the asses of the Reds and Blues. Intel session over. Suck it, bitch."
"Do you ever shut up?" Barracuda growled at Darkwatcher. She was in her spot, leaning against the blood stained walls, fixing her flamethrower gauntlets. She took them out of her father's armor and put them in her own, proving that she was of his blood. Her helmet was tilted towards her and she could feel the venomous glare shot towards her. Her painted shark smile looked like she had just splattered blood on her helmet and smeared it into a smile.
"Well, I do when I sleep," Darkwatcher shot back, crossing her arms. "You're no better with your constant muttering about how you'll avenge your father like some fucking noblewoman."
Barracuda pushed herself off of the wall, walking over to her with a threat in her body language. Darkwatcher moved to meet her threat, but Hornet threw her arms out to stop the two females from getting into a fight.
"Enough, you two," she barked, shoving them both in opposite directions to force them to back down. "There's no need to start up a fight between each other. We need our focus on the Freelancers, not each other's throats." She lowered her arms, picking up her sniper rifle, cocking the weapon. "Besides, I have all the information on the Reds and Blues, as well as Carolina and Washington."
Darkwatcher yanked her knife out of the dead Charon soldier, sheathing it. "Don't expect miss fussybitch here to protect all the time." She shot her one more glare, looking to Hornet. "At least your father is still alive."
Hornet looked at her, placing her rifle on her back were it snapped in place. "There's no time to talk or think about them, Darkwatcher. Let's get a move on." She motioned them outside, hopping inside of a Warthog.
"When in this conversation, did we say you were to boss us around?" Darkwatcher growled, her hand flicking down to her knife hilt.
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