[ Lara is entirely and completely unprepared for the absurd twist her life has taken of late. Honestly, the tiny motorized hoovers are one thing, but these... She's stopped counting and is half tempted just to upend the entire crate and see how many fall out, expect a part of her is worried that if she does, there won't be an end to them. Finally, she gets to the bottom and takes a step back, hands on her hips, to survey the somewhat alarmingly vast, colorful plush creatures. ]
Right. What am I meant to do with these.
[ As if on cue, a hundred plus tiny little motors revved up and a cacophony of high pitched voices rang out. ]
ME FURBY!! UH-OH!!
B. A Little More Conversation, A Little Less Action
[ This is more anthropology than archaeology, but still Lara is fascinated. The novelty of meeting an alien species still hasn't worn off and the revelation that they can be communicated with all the more so.
The problem, of course, is making contact. The creatures seem rather prone to avoiding the temporaries for the most part, not that one could really blame them, which meant leaving the temporaries was necessary. That's where things get a bit tricky. Lara stands at the edge of one now, bow and arrows slung over her back and her pickaxe on her hip, contemplating the floating island not far away. She could probably make that jump... ]
C.The Roomba Rescue Patrol
[ Miller had said she was good at using her surroundings to improvise, but she never quite imagined she'd be doing it this way. With 15 of her original 30 roombas left, she mounts 10 with the stripped down skeletons of the furbies and sets them loose. It works shockingly well as a diversionary tactic, the combination of the shrieking, squealing metal and the enhanced speed of the roombas sending the scraplets scrambling one second and buzzing after the contraption in hot pursuit the next. Lara is rarely far behind, axe in hand to pick off the stragglers. ]
Lara Croft (ota)
[ Lara is entirely and completely unprepared for the absurd twist her life has taken of late. Honestly, the tiny motorized hoovers are one thing, but these... She's stopped counting and is half tempted just to upend the entire crate and see how many fall out, expect a part of her is worried that if she does, there won't be an end to them. Finally, she gets to the bottom and takes a step back, hands on her hips, to survey the somewhat alarmingly vast, colorful plush creatures. ]
Right. What am I meant to do with these.
[ As if on cue, a hundred plus tiny little motors revved up and a cacophony of high pitched voices rang out. ]
ME FURBY!! UH-OH!!
B. A Little More Conversation, A Little Less Action
[ This is more anthropology than archaeology, but still Lara is fascinated. The novelty of meeting an alien species still hasn't worn off and the revelation that they can be communicated with all the more so.
The problem, of course, is making contact. The creatures seem rather prone to avoiding the temporaries for the most part, not that one could really blame them, which meant leaving the temporaries was necessary. That's where things get a bit tricky. Lara stands at the edge of one now, bow and arrows slung over her back and her pickaxe on her hip, contemplating the floating island not far away. She could probably make that jump... ]
C.The Roomba Rescue Patrol
[ Miller had said she was good at using her surroundings to improvise, but she never quite imagined she'd be doing it this way. With 15 of her original 30 roombas left, she mounts 10 with the stripped down skeletons of the furbies and sets them loose. It works shockingly well as a diversionary tactic, the combination of the shrieking, squealing metal and the enhanced speed of the roombas sending the scraplets scrambling one second and buzzing after the contraption in hot pursuit the next. Lara is rarely far behind, axe in hand to pick off the stragglers. ]