Allies [Time to go to war. Should have expected it. Since when have things ever been quiet here or back where he came from?
At least the air is better quality than it had been. Makes it easier to stock up on what he needs. When it hasn't been shaken loose by the quakes at least.
Wash spends his time stockpiling what supplies he can, collecting weapons that might be useful, even if not to him. He's learnt to trust his instincts and every one of them is screaming at him that things are going to go bad very soon.]
Threat [The hallways have been turned into something from nightmares; flesh organs pulsing against the walls, horrific but somehow still living. He thinks he's seen a movie like this before and he wishes he'd never had to remember it. Luckily he isn't a strange to gore, and once he sets aside the initial mix of sick horror and revulsion, Wash is adept at causing damage.
Grenades, small bombs, knives if he has to, anything to get them through this... thing. A wall of flesh. He really hates that he's ever had to think about this.
And beyond the wall, it doesn't let up. He thinks he recognises them. They look like people he knows, flashes of them out of the corner of his eye. Maine one second, Connie and even the idiot sim troopers. They lack the charisma though, and it seems like once the mask is off, there's no returning it.
Renewal [He just wants to sleep. Stupid, isn't it? Reaching the end and just wanting to sleep until it's all over. Let someone else figure this out! He's the muscle. He'll go where he's told and do what he's instructed if anyone has ideas, but otherwise Wash is content to sit in the odd glow of the Ingress energy and try not to fall asleep.]
Agent Washington | Red vs Blue | OTA
[Time to go to war. Should have expected it. Since when have things ever been quiet here or back where he came from?
At least the air is better quality than it had been. Makes it easier to stock up on what he needs. When it hasn't been shaken loose by the quakes at least.
Wash spends his time stockpiling what supplies he can, collecting weapons that might be useful, even if not to him. He's learnt to trust his instincts and every one of them is screaming at him that things are going to go bad very soon.]
Threat
[The hallways have been turned into something from nightmares; flesh organs pulsing against the walls, horrific but somehow still living. He thinks he's seen a movie like this before and he wishes he'd never had to remember it. Luckily he isn't a strange to gore, and once he sets aside the initial mix of sick horror and revulsion, Wash is adept at causing damage.
Grenades, small bombs, knives if he has to, anything to get them through this... thing. A wall of flesh. He really hates that he's ever had to think about this.
And beyond the wall, it doesn't let up. He thinks he recognises them. They look like people he knows, flashes of them out of the corner of his eye. Maine one second, Connie and even the idiot sim troopers. They lack the charisma though, and it seems like once the mask is off, there's no returning it.
Renewal
[He just wants to sleep. Stupid, isn't it? Reaching the end and just wanting to sleep until it's all over. Let someone else figure this out! He's the muscle. He'll go where he's told and do what he's instructed if anyone has ideas, but otherwise Wash is content to sit in the odd glow of the Ingress energy and try not to fall asleep.]