Search Results
3/30/2025, 11:18:12 AM
>SELECTED [Daredevil/Xenophobe split] I note the late votes tipping it in direction of the Daredevil choice, but given how close it is I will write this as Snake Eyes telling herself she’s a Company-only gal and holding some deep-set denial. As some anons have suggested, she might in the back of her mind be trying to figure out if there’s a way to get them in as new Company recruits. Can’t wait to see where the chips ultimately fall.
You used to be able to cross the dirt paths and humble tents that made up the main rebel base with your eyes closed. But lately it’s been growing faster and faster as every week new refugees trickle in sporadically or are rolled in from one of the outposts too near the front as part of the League of Dis’ inevitable gradual retreat. You don’t like it, not least because it means more mouths to feed. But sooner or later one of these wide-eyed idealists will be hiding the face of a slave that wises up and tries to cut a deal. The gallows to the south of the camp already presents it’s grim evidence of the fate a few would-be turncoats, as well as a harsh step for some of the more mundane betrayals of the rebel cause. You don’t have a lot of deserters, at least not those you hear from again, few other than the fighters you’ve directly or indirectly trained would survive long in the jungle alone. But someone will get a message in sooner or later. Or, worse still, the Cradler Auxiliaries will successfully track a group back here and then it’s all over. It’s why you or one of the other Cradlers in the Company are always sent out to make sure that doesn’t happen and cover your track, but everyone makes mistakes. It’s only a matter of time.
The rebel base is an exercise in incongruity. Kids in rags kick a muddy ball past line of scarred adults loading weaponry and counting ammunition. An old woman cackles as two aliens you don’t recognise claw and swipe at each other. There are a lot of humans sure. Slavers did very well in the years following the fall of Earth when it’s surrounding space was filled with undefended convoys, the vast majority of them defenceless cargo haulers packed to the brim with desperate refugees. Earth wasn’t the only homeworld wiped out by the Rot, or with a species that fell prey to slaver attacks, so even if humans are the single largest group in the camp they don’t form the majority. Dozens of species rub shoulders together and sweat or excrete something or other to deal with the heat, brothers and sisters in arms in the fight for freedom. Everywhere you go there is someone reading aloud the ‘Tenets of Freedom’ or laughing at a joke in the Pigdin Imperial you are now virtually fluent in. Not to mention the singing, something that is also out of place given the faint air of desperation and some of the rarer species not even having vocal chords.
[1/3]
You used to be able to cross the dirt paths and humble tents that made up the main rebel base with your eyes closed. But lately it’s been growing faster and faster as every week new refugees trickle in sporadically or are rolled in from one of the outposts too near the front as part of the League of Dis’ inevitable gradual retreat. You don’t like it, not least because it means more mouths to feed. But sooner or later one of these wide-eyed idealists will be hiding the face of a slave that wises up and tries to cut a deal. The gallows to the south of the camp already presents it’s grim evidence of the fate a few would-be turncoats, as well as a harsh step for some of the more mundane betrayals of the rebel cause. You don’t have a lot of deserters, at least not those you hear from again, few other than the fighters you’ve directly or indirectly trained would survive long in the jungle alone. But someone will get a message in sooner or later. Or, worse still, the Cradler Auxiliaries will successfully track a group back here and then it’s all over. It’s why you or one of the other Cradlers in the Company are always sent out to make sure that doesn’t happen and cover your track, but everyone makes mistakes. It’s only a matter of time.
The rebel base is an exercise in incongruity. Kids in rags kick a muddy ball past line of scarred adults loading weaponry and counting ammunition. An old woman cackles as two aliens you don’t recognise claw and swipe at each other. There are a lot of humans sure. Slavers did very well in the years following the fall of Earth when it’s surrounding space was filled with undefended convoys, the vast majority of them defenceless cargo haulers packed to the brim with desperate refugees. Earth wasn’t the only homeworld wiped out by the Rot, or with a species that fell prey to slaver attacks, so even if humans are the single largest group in the camp they don’t form the majority. Dozens of species rub shoulders together and sweat or excrete something or other to deal with the heat, brothers and sisters in arms in the fight for freedom. Everywhere you go there is someone reading aloud the ‘Tenets of Freedom’ or laughing at a joke in the Pigdin Imperial you are now virtually fluent in. Not to mention the singing, something that is also out of place given the faint air of desperation and some of the rarer species not even having vocal chords.
[1/3]
Page 1