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Entry tags:
Red Rubric // Closed
Who | Terezi Pyrope ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pythianjudgment and Shepard earthborn
What | Meetin' up for instructional bomb-making
Where | Behind Town Hall, in a Shrubbery
When | Late Week Three
Warnings/Notes | Improvised Weaponry And Cussing
Recon was a fact of life for anyone who wanted to live longer than a few days. Oh, you could hole up and post watches, but it was never enough. Someone always found a way in, or if they didn't, the Gamemakers got bored and threw mutant termites at you until you decided to man up and do something interesting.
So Shepard was prone to scouting, it was interesting, useful, and best of all it was only marginally likely to get herself killed. Compared to all other varied and interesting ways she could get herself killed, of course.
It was an interesting fact of nature that one could sit inside the curve of an overgrown and long-dead blackberry bramble and remain all but invisible, if you held still enough. Shepard, with her legs crossed in front of her and the Slegehammer held across her knees, was in just such a position. Twice, she had calmly watched the listless grey walkers pass in front of her, seeking prey but unable to recognize her position. Once, a distressingly large spider had slipped by.
And now...
"Hey. Hey, kid, you got anything good?"
Subtlety was boring, anyways.
pythianjudgment and Shepard earthbornWhat | Meetin' up for instructional bomb-making
Where | Behind Town Hall, in a Shrubbery
When | Late Week Three
Warnings/Notes | Improvised Weaponry And Cussing
Recon was a fact of life for anyone who wanted to live longer than a few days. Oh, you could hole up and post watches, but it was never enough. Someone always found a way in, or if they didn't, the Gamemakers got bored and threw mutant termites at you until you decided to man up and do something interesting.
So Shepard was prone to scouting, it was interesting, useful, and best of all it was only marginally likely to get herself killed. Compared to all other varied and interesting ways she could get herself killed, of course.
It was an interesting fact of nature that one could sit inside the curve of an overgrown and long-dead blackberry bramble and remain all but invisible, if you held still enough. Shepard, with her legs crossed in front of her and the Slegehammer held across her knees, was in just such a position. Twice, she had calmly watched the listless grey walkers pass in front of her, seeking prey but unable to recognize her position. Once, a distressingly large spider had slipped by.
And now...
"Hey. Hey, kid, you got anything good?"
Subtlety was boring, anyways.