Author's Note: Trying something new.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
=====[]=====
Thunder echoed...
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
=====[]=====
Thunder echoed...
Mike Check! (WotHT)
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Prologue
Librarian
SAN Loss Isn't Fun Anymore...
Author's Note: Trying something new.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
=====[]=====
Thunder echoed in my eardrums, a soft pattering of something falling across my back.
Sleepy. Don't wanna move. Go away.
More thunder, and another drizzle of something on my back. I'm starting to feel cold spots of moisture all over, is it raining? Did I forget to close the windows last night? Bloody hell, all my books will be wet.
Oh, and something's digging into my face, I might have gone to sleep with my glasses still on. Aw crap, I hope it's not broken yet.
Probably ought to fix tha-
Artillery: 1D100 => 71
A sudden clap of LOUD thunder and the sensation of small objects raining down on my head with metallic dings and whargargbla-
AWAKE AWAKE NOW WHAT THE HELL
With a strangled screech (entirely warranted, I assure you!) I flung myself into an upright position, practically punching the weirdly soft ground as I ohshittippingover-
OW!
Okaaay. Take two.
Blinking the stars out of my eyes and rubbing the shiny hardhat I'm somehow wearing, I once again pulled myself into a sitting position. Something just felt... off, as I noticed the odd uniform-ish sleeve covering my arms as I lowered my hand, and I looked around. Grasslands as far as I can see without a building in sight, definitely foreign, the cooler air here reminds me of air conditioning or half-remembered holiday trips and and the smoking crater just past my feet-
Wait, hold up. Smoking crater just past my feet?!
It was as if some maniac god had decided to stab the ground with a blunted pencil; a giant puckered-up wound in the earth belching smoke and flames. The grass all around the blast zone had been charred black and clods of mud lay spewed out in a rough ring around the hole, likely the stuff falling on me earlier. Burning cinders swirled from the rising pillar of smog as little firefly motes of something began spewing out from the impromptu hellmouth to my rising horror.
T-that's not fallout or something, is it?!
Another shotgun blast of air and sound snapped me out from my stupor as a fist of air slapped me on my much-abused noggin, the gale-force winds damn near bowling me over again. Crawling on my hands and knees with an undignified whimper, I desperately scrabbled away from the brand new pothole in the increasingly-ruined grass towards anywhere, anywhere away from the noise, the sound, the sheer I have no freaking idea what's going on. Oh my god, what did I ever do to end up in this place!
Something clicked as a voice spoke directly into my ear. "Micae One-Three, Micae One-Three! Major wants you to head north to the treeline and look for enemies in the forest, sniff them out for the artillery squad! Over!" A cutesy voice called with a bit of a walkie-talkie static effect, cutting off with another click.
"Help help what the heck oh my god aaaa" A jumble of words burst out from my lips as I huddled behind the meager cover of a protruding boulder, my noticeably smallish hands pressed hard against my ears as I tried to squish as much of myself into the grass-coated stone as possible. Shutting my eyes and blocking out the hell-scene going on around me, I screamed and screamed my throat hoarse and click- "and I don't even know where's north anymore and and..."
"Lost your compass, Micae?" The voice piped up again, in a squeaky yet surprisingly gentle tone. "That's okay! Let's see, just turn to your right about thirty degrees and run, you should reach the woods in fifty meters or so!" A pause, and a delighted noise half-muffled in static. "Ah, the enemy's barrage should be ending about now, it'll be awhile before they start shooting again! Good luck, Micae! Over!"
I choked back a... a... (I dunno?!). You want me to charge into that?! No thank you- aw bloody hell, they mentioned the "enemy" shooting again, didn't they? This place isn't going to stay safe for much longer, right?
Just my luck!
Dash: 1D100 => 15
Scrambling over Mr Boulder's protective bulk, I tumbled gracelessly into a messy roll bulled into a headlong rush vaguely leftwards, keeping my eyes squeezed shut as thunder blasted all around me and trying my best not to flinch whenever the shrieks of descending warheads came close. Get to the trees and I'll be safe-
A flash, a bang and a sudden weightlessness as a sledgehammer blow slammed right into my unprotected back. The world dissolved into a psychotic mess of colours and spinning and-
Such a pretty color the treetops have. I've never noticed.
The sparse canopy of trees growing on the border of the forested areas filled my vision as I lay where I landed, the force of that most recent impact still bouncing around inside of my head. Coupled with the shock of being violently blown off my feet and the rest of today, staying put here was looking mighty appealing right now.
At least being knocked off my feet gave my heart a chance to finally slow down from 200rpm. Calm is good, calm is not running around like a headless chicken and doing stupid things.
Right, time to pick myself off the floor again. Looking around, it seems like I'd ended up blown into what looks like a forest, plenty of undergrowth but not really "vines everywhere" full-on Tarzan jungle. Faint pops of what I assume is gunfire (funny how normal it seems now!) could be heard off in the distance, muffled by assorted ferns and undergrowth blanketing the forest floor.
As far as I could tell, the place was reasonably safe for now. That settled, I took the time to look my(?)self over.
The first thing that caught my eyes was green. Whatever had dumped me here had seen fit to pour me into some sort of military uniform, albeit a garish bright green and somewhat scuffed from my journey here. Another thing that struck me was how small I'd become, the little pale hands patting and tugging at the front of my clothing positively tiny compared to the hands I clearly remembered having: coupled with my drastically shrunk (as far as I could tell sitting down) torso and I almost looked like a child!
Although, that was as far as I could tell looking through the spiderwebbed pair of glasses perched on my nose; my "sleeping" on it and all the excitement earlier probably hadn't been very kind to it. Fishing the battered eyewear off my face (and temporarily blinding myself as its arms dragged long locks brown hair into my face, curious), I brushed the stray hair out of the way and oh bloody hell.
My foot was gone. With the cracked lens out of the way, my horrified eyes feasted on the sight of my feet; my right foot had been mangled. The black combat boot housing the digit looked crumpled with a vicious hole torn right through where the front of the ankle would be, with a matching wound at the back. Even now the boot looked shredded, the tough leather crumpling inward like and imploded hull.
And it's still twitching. Oh god, oh god, my foot. My foot is GONE.
Wait, what's that crackling sound i hear?
Grabbing onto my shin (and cringing as my ruined foot twitched), I pulled my leg close and took a closer look at the maimed extremity. Gingerly prying apart the ragged edges of the hole in my boot, I looked in to see the pale-ish skin similar to that on my hands, the pink of shredded flesh (but... no blood?) and the glint of metal and crackle of exposed circuitry?! And there's the same firefly-embers I saw back in the crater, except now it's coming from me!
I'm apparently a child-sized (and shaped, I think) robot soldier powered by radioactive fallout, dumped into an active warzone with no idea what the heck is going on.
Mirror. I need a mirror, now-
Crunch. Crunch crunch crunch. Rustle.
I promptly froze upon hearing sounds coming from nearby, my roving hands still stuck in their position digging into my uniform's many pockets for a reflective surface. Acting on instinct, I immediately pitched onto my back and flipped over, hugging the lichen as I tried to ignore my crippled leg flopping uselessly along the ankle. From my position low on the ground I couldn't see anything, but nothing could see me in return.
I hope.
More rustling from the ferns up ahead, and regular crunching which I assume would be footfalls; someone was in the area. As the footfalls came closer, I held my breath and pressed myself closer to the forest floor.
"Micae One-Three, Micae One-Three! You've gotten to the forest, good job!" The voice in my head chose this moment to suddenly pipe up, damn near stopping my heart from shock. "The enemy's artillery corps should be somewhere in the area, Major wants you to charge in and sniff them out! The main forces need them destroyed before they can advance, good luck!"
OH HELL NO. "Houston-can I call you Houston? We have a PROBLEM." I spat, unloading my pent-up stress and venom as I mentally scowled at the cheery voice in my head. "I am TIRED, BATTERED, not to mention my foot is CRIPPLED. I am facedown in a forest with SOMEONE, almost definitely a bad guy, practically standing one meter away from me and you want me to rush in?! I can barely even walk!"
"Ehh, what? Who's Hews-tonne?" The voice chirped bubbly as ever, seemingly oblivious to the venom laced in my words. "My name is Cheetosay(?)! Oh, and about your foot? Easy! Just turn on your Radar and scan the area, our artillery corps can target the enemy units you find and attack them from over here!"
Radar? What do you mean, radar-click.
My vision abruptly went Matrix as everything was replaced by wireframes, my awareness expanding greatly as a pulse of energy flowed from the top of my head. Everything around me was lit up with shades of green like one of those old CRT radars, with the undergrowth a dark, almost invisible green. With my newfound vision, cover became meaningless as a number of silhouettes formed in the now-empty spaces, several humanoid figures comprised of brighter green dots clustered together were milling around the area. One of which was, as expected, very very close to my position.
In unison, every single one of them turned to face towards my direction.
"Good job, Micae One-Three! Relaying targeting data to the artillery corps, stand by for impact!"
I all but screeched as I violently pushed myself off the carpet of assorted lichens, staggering to my feet just as the figure I'd spotted earlier came into view. A diminutive girl dressed in a smart-looking forest green uniform top and skirt. She appeared to be unarmed save for a bulky vest and backpack, looking for all appearances a lost backpacker. A black officer's cap sat atop her black bobcut hair, its front adorned with a shiny golden plaque.
An eternity passed in the handful of heartbeats in which we stared at each other, equally surprised. As I opened my mouth to call out to the terrified looking girl, she let out a high-pitched cry. "Take this!"
Shrieking a battle cry as she lunged at me, the little lass reached into her vest. With a sharp ping, a tiny metal pin came loose in her hands.
Kamikaze: 1D100 => 58
A horrible flash filled the area as an expanding fireballed occupied the place where the girl once stood. The concussive wave slammed into my battered frame and drove the breath from my lungs, like an invisible child throwing away an unwanted plaything. I vaguely heard an unfamiliar voice screaming as I tumbled through the air once again, a sickening feeling of wrongness coming from my abused leg even as I spotted the barks of nearby trees shattering under an onslaught of loose shrapnel kicked up by the blast.
As my battered body finally came to a stop after crashing into a verdant bush, a white-gold flash filled my vision as something slammed into the ground in front of my face. Half-embedded into a thick root sat the plaque on the girl's hat, still steaming from the heat.
The back of the plaque sat facing towards me, the reflective metal glinting in the sunlight streaming in from the treetops. With shaking hands, I plucked the golden coin and held it up to my face.
Oh. No. It all makes sense now.
Radioactive particles. Chibi combat robots.
Artillery. Radar. Scout Rush.
Cheetosay. Chitose.
Micae. Mike.
I'm an Imperial Recon Tank.
Panting like a hound, I stumbled away from the blast crater as fast as I could, stealth be damned. Screaming metal and a growing feeling of horror in the pit of my stomach ensued as my horribly abused foot protested, the extremity bending and flopping in way no foot should. Blanking it all out through the sheer horror racing through my mind, I crashed my way through the undergrowth on the glorified peg-leg.
No. Nonono. This setting is hyper-lethal to grunt troops like me. Have to get away.
Intercept: 1D100 => 2
"Hey, you!"
A sudden shout came from my left, and I instinctively turned to look. Another girl appeared beside a tree, leaning her torso out from behind the gnarled trunk. Her hand whipped up from her waist and-
AAAAHH
I can't see!
I tumbled to an ungraceful halt, rolling across the root-strewn floor on sheer momentum to plunge into a small hollow. My hands gingerly groped the gash occupying the left side of my face, and I swallowed in horror as my questing fingers found a ruined mess where my eye would be. Television static filled the entire left field of my sight as my twitching eyelid closed over an eye that was no longer there.
Dimly, my ears picked out the distinct pop-popping of gunfire, as sharp thunks echoed through the trunk of the tree.
My hand drifted down to my waist, and felt a large object strapped to my hip.
Retaliate: 1D100 => 34
I've had enough.
"Eat shit and DIE!" Whipping out the object (an Imperial Recon Handgun, my mind supplied), I leaned out from cover and snapped off a wild volley of shots at the offending enemy. Wicking candle-wisp bullets flicked out from both of our muzzles as we traded fire, the harsh crack-boom of my sidearm drowning the blasted world out for a few moments even as my left shoulder abruptly caved inward from a lucky bullet. My left arm dangling uselessly at my side, I seamlessly switched to one-hand shooting and emptied the rest of my magazine at the little bitch.
The greenette's head rocked back all of a sudden, a bright flash puffing from the side of her head and sending her twintailed hair fluttering. I choked out a strangled cheer at the sight, only for it to devolve into panicked fumbling as the pistol in my hand clicked empty.
As I struggled to reload the unfamiliar(?) weapon one-handed, the back of my neck prickled and my other-sense prickled.
"Come in, Command! There's an enemy Recon Tank at my position, it's in radar range of the artillery squads! Relaying coordinates!"
Oh, fuck.
Banzai: 1D100 => 57
I may or may not have screamed a "mucho weeaboo war cry" as I burst out into the open, freshly-loaded gun in hand. Waving my arms like a maniac and hollering like a loon, I bumrushed the gap between us while firing all the way. For the first three seconds of my flight I was treated to the sight of the enemy soldier gaping at the spectacle, eyes wide and mouth open in a comical "O" as her brain struggled to process the drunk barbarian antics in front of her. Snapping out of it, she shook her head violently and raised her weapon.
Too late.
Whatever-tonnes of irate loli battle-machine smashed into the little trooper like a tidal wave, my body pitching forward in the last lunge as my abused foot gave way and inadvertently adding to my momentum. The enemy's gun went flying as we tumbled into a flailing pile of limbs, with me unashamedly biting and scratching and punching in a haze of wild rage. Hauling myself atop the prone figure, I raised my arms and began to rain a steady beat of fists upon the helpless trooper. Eventually, the enemy's spirited struggles began to peter off and it lay limp between my legs.
Struggling back to my feet, I leveled my gun. Before me lay a young girl, her face all battered her body limp. Glowing red eyes stained with tears stared up at me, her cherubic cheeks twitching as the skin on her face began to bruise over.
I gulped, sweat dripping from my forehead. The sights of my gun shivered.
Do I really want to do this?
Out of the corner of my eye, one of her hands twitched towards a certain direction. Her handgun, lying discarded, half a meter away.
My finger coiled.
Gunshot. X 110, Y 091.
Dignity: 1D100 => 95
The smoking remains of the g-enemy, the enemy, lying at my feet, I rested my weathered frame against one of the trees in the area and leaned back. Our scuffle had carried us into a clearing in the forest, and I could see the sky through a rare hole through the all-encompassing canopy. Fluffy white clouds mingled with streaks of grey through the clear blue sky, comets streaking their way through the heavens to kiss the distant earth far off somewhere. The early noon sun cast a deep azure pallor across the empyrean, and my sole remaining eye picked out the faint twinkle of starlight.
Ah, I remember now. Being seen is a death sentence.
Thunder rumbled around me, a dancing leaf kissing my cheek.
Pushing off the knotted bark of the ancient tree, I hobbled into the center of the grove and tilted my head to face the sky. Plumes of dancing flame blossomed unnoticed amidst the trees I had just left, the wind running gentle fingers through my sandy-brown hair and stroking my face with the touch of summer. The blocky pistol clasped in my hand I let go, my dutiful companion coming to a rest at last with a soft thump.
So tired.
One of the stars brightened to eclipse the others, and I looked up into the light. Oh, so bright.
I felt a pressure on my chest-
In a forest in the middle of a grassland, a pockmarked clearing stood in the middle of a copse of burning trees. A pillar of ash scarred the center of the grove, its base aglow with embers dispersing wisps of light. Metal glinted within the depths of the pit, and swathes of green cloth danced across the area as they fluttered and burned.
Nestled on a bed of flashed-dried grass, a small brown bundle lay a short distance away.
"I-I mattered," a tinny voice gasped, spitting out each word with herculean effort. "my n-name is-!"
Crimson eyes flashing and dimming, the decapitated head gave one final twitch and fell silent.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
=====[]=====
Thunder echoed in my eardrums, a soft pattering of something falling across my back.
Sleepy. Don't wanna move. Go away.
More thunder, and another drizzle of something on my back. I'm starting to feel cold spots of moisture all over, is it raining? Did I forget to close the windows last night? Bloody hell, all my books will be wet.
Oh, and something's digging into my face, I might have gone to sleep with my glasses still on. Aw crap, I hope it's not broken yet.
Probably ought to fix tha-
Artillery: 1D100 => 71
A sudden clap of LOUD thunder and the sensation of small objects raining down on my head with metallic dings and whargargbla-
AWAKE AWAKE NOW WHAT THE HELL
With a strangled screech (entirely warranted, I assure you!) I flung myself into an upright position, practically punching the weirdly soft ground as I ohshittippingover-
OW!
Okaaay. Take two.
Blinking the stars out of my eyes and rubbing the shiny hardhat I'm somehow wearing, I once again pulled myself into a sitting position. Something just felt... off, as I noticed the odd uniform-ish sleeve covering my arms as I lowered my hand, and I looked around. Grasslands as far as I can see without a building in sight, definitely foreign, the cooler air here reminds me of air conditioning or half-remembered holiday trips and and the smoking crater just past my feet-
Wait, hold up. Smoking crater just past my feet?!
It was as if some maniac god had decided to stab the ground with a blunted pencil; a giant puckered-up wound in the earth belching smoke and flames. The grass all around the blast zone had been charred black and clods of mud lay spewed out in a rough ring around the hole, likely the stuff falling on me earlier. Burning cinders swirled from the rising pillar of smog as little firefly motes of something began spewing out from the impromptu hellmouth to my rising horror.
T-that's not fallout or something, is it?!
Another shotgun blast of air and sound snapped me out from my stupor as a fist of air slapped me on my much-abused noggin, the gale-force winds damn near bowling me over again. Crawling on my hands and knees with an undignified whimper, I desperately scrabbled away from the brand new pothole in the increasingly-ruined grass towards anywhere, anywhere away from the noise, the sound, the sheer I have no freaking idea what's going on. Oh my god, what did I ever do to end up in this place!
Something clicked as a voice spoke directly into my ear. "Micae One-Three, Micae One-Three! Major wants you to head north to the treeline and look for enemies in the forest, sniff them out for the artillery squad! Over!" A cutesy voice called with a bit of a walkie-talkie static effect, cutting off with another click.
"Help help what the heck oh my god aaaa" A jumble of words burst out from my lips as I huddled behind the meager cover of a protruding boulder, my noticeably smallish hands pressed hard against my ears as I tried to squish as much of myself into the grass-coated stone as possible. Shutting my eyes and blocking out the hell-scene going on around me, I screamed and screamed my throat hoarse and click- "and I don't even know where's north anymore and and..."
"Lost your compass, Micae?" The voice piped up again, in a squeaky yet surprisingly gentle tone. "That's okay! Let's see, just turn to your right about thirty degrees and run, you should reach the woods in fifty meters or so!" A pause, and a delighted noise half-muffled in static. "Ah, the enemy's barrage should be ending about now, it'll be awhile before they start shooting again! Good luck, Micae! Over!"
I choked back a... a... (I dunno?!). You want me to charge into that?! No thank you- aw bloody hell, they mentioned the "enemy" shooting again, didn't they? This place isn't going to stay safe for much longer, right?
Just my luck!
Dash: 1D100 => 15
Scrambling over Mr Boulder's protective bulk, I tumbled gracelessly into a messy roll bulled into a headlong rush vaguely leftwards, keeping my eyes squeezed shut as thunder blasted all around me and trying my best not to flinch whenever the shrieks of descending warheads came close. Get to the trees and I'll be safe-
A flash, a bang and a sudden weightlessness as a sledgehammer blow slammed right into my unprotected back. The world dissolved into a psychotic mess of colours and spinning and-
=====[]=====
Such a pretty color the treetops have. I've never noticed.
The sparse canopy of trees growing on the border of the forested areas filled my vision as I lay where I landed, the force of that most recent impact still bouncing around inside of my head. Coupled with the shock of being violently blown off my feet and the rest of today, staying put here was looking mighty appealing right now.
At least being knocked off my feet gave my heart a chance to finally slow down from 200rpm. Calm is good, calm is not running around like a headless chicken and doing stupid things.
Right, time to pick myself off the floor again. Looking around, it seems like I'd ended up blown into what looks like a forest, plenty of undergrowth but not really "vines everywhere" full-on Tarzan jungle. Faint pops of what I assume is gunfire (funny how normal it seems now!) could be heard off in the distance, muffled by assorted ferns and undergrowth blanketing the forest floor.
As far as I could tell, the place was reasonably safe for now. That settled, I took the time to look my(?)self over.
The first thing that caught my eyes was green. Whatever had dumped me here had seen fit to pour me into some sort of military uniform, albeit a garish bright green and somewhat scuffed from my journey here. Another thing that struck me was how small I'd become, the little pale hands patting and tugging at the front of my clothing positively tiny compared to the hands I clearly remembered having: coupled with my drastically shrunk (as far as I could tell sitting down) torso and I almost looked like a child!
Although, that was as far as I could tell looking through the spiderwebbed pair of glasses perched on my nose; my "sleeping" on it and all the excitement earlier probably hadn't been very kind to it. Fishing the battered eyewear off my face (and temporarily blinding myself as its arms dragged long locks brown hair into my face, curious), I brushed the stray hair out of the way and oh bloody hell.
My foot was gone. With the cracked lens out of the way, my horrified eyes feasted on the sight of my feet; my right foot had been mangled. The black combat boot housing the digit looked crumpled with a vicious hole torn right through where the front of the ankle would be, with a matching wound at the back. Even now the boot looked shredded, the tough leather crumpling inward like and imploded hull.
And it's still twitching. Oh god, oh god, my foot. My foot is GONE.
Wait, what's that crackling sound i hear?
Grabbing onto my shin (and cringing as my ruined foot twitched), I pulled my leg close and took a closer look at the maimed extremity. Gingerly prying apart the ragged edges of the hole in my boot, I looked in to see the pale-ish skin similar to that on my hands, the pink of shredded flesh (but... no blood?) and the glint of metal and crackle of exposed circuitry?! And there's the same firefly-embers I saw back in the crater, except now it's coming from me!
I'm apparently a child-sized (and shaped, I think) robot soldier powered by radioactive fallout, dumped into an active warzone with no idea what the heck is going on.
Mirror. I need a mirror, now-
Crunch. Crunch crunch crunch. Rustle.
I promptly froze upon hearing sounds coming from nearby, my roving hands still stuck in their position digging into my uniform's many pockets for a reflective surface. Acting on instinct, I immediately pitched onto my back and flipped over, hugging the lichen as I tried to ignore my crippled leg flopping uselessly along the ankle. From my position low on the ground I couldn't see anything, but nothing could see me in return.
I hope.
More rustling from the ferns up ahead, and regular crunching which I assume would be footfalls; someone was in the area. As the footfalls came closer, I held my breath and pressed myself closer to the forest floor.
"Micae One-Three, Micae One-Three! You've gotten to the forest, good job!" The voice in my head chose this moment to suddenly pipe up, damn near stopping my heart from shock. "The enemy's artillery corps should be somewhere in the area, Major wants you to charge in and sniff them out! The main forces need them destroyed before they can advance, good luck!"
OH HELL NO. "Houston-can I call you Houston? We have a PROBLEM." I spat, unloading my pent-up stress and venom as I mentally scowled at the cheery voice in my head. "I am TIRED, BATTERED, not to mention my foot is CRIPPLED. I am facedown in a forest with SOMEONE, almost definitely a bad guy, practically standing one meter away from me and you want me to rush in?! I can barely even walk!"
"Ehh, what? Who's Hews-tonne?" The voice chirped bubbly as ever, seemingly oblivious to the venom laced in my words. "My name is Cheetosay(?)! Oh, and about your foot? Easy! Just turn on your Radar and scan the area, our artillery corps can target the enemy units you find and attack them from over here!"
Radar? What do you mean, radar-click.
My vision abruptly went Matrix as everything was replaced by wireframes, my awareness expanding greatly as a pulse of energy flowed from the top of my head. Everything around me was lit up with shades of green like one of those old CRT radars, with the undergrowth a dark, almost invisible green. With my newfound vision, cover became meaningless as a number of silhouettes formed in the now-empty spaces, several humanoid figures comprised of brighter green dots clustered together were milling around the area. One of which was, as expected, very very close to my position.
In unison, every single one of them turned to face towards my direction.
"Good job, Micae One-Three! Relaying targeting data to the artillery corps, stand by for impact!"
I all but screeched as I violently pushed myself off the carpet of assorted lichens, staggering to my feet just as the figure I'd spotted earlier came into view. A diminutive girl dressed in a smart-looking forest green uniform top and skirt. She appeared to be unarmed save for a bulky vest and backpack, looking for all appearances a lost backpacker. A black officer's cap sat atop her black bobcut hair, its front adorned with a shiny golden plaque.
An eternity passed in the handful of heartbeats in which we stared at each other, equally surprised. As I opened my mouth to call out to the terrified looking girl, she let out a high-pitched cry. "Take this!"
Shrieking a battle cry as she lunged at me, the little lass reached into her vest. With a sharp ping, a tiny metal pin came loose in her hands.
Kamikaze: 1D100 => 58
A horrible flash filled the area as an expanding fireballed occupied the place where the girl once stood. The concussive wave slammed into my battered frame and drove the breath from my lungs, like an invisible child throwing away an unwanted plaything. I vaguely heard an unfamiliar voice screaming as I tumbled through the air once again, a sickening feeling of wrongness coming from my abused leg even as I spotted the barks of nearby trees shattering under an onslaught of loose shrapnel kicked up by the blast.
As my battered body finally came to a stop after crashing into a verdant bush, a white-gold flash filled my vision as something slammed into the ground in front of my face. Half-embedded into a thick root sat the plaque on the girl's hat, still steaming from the heat.
The back of the plaque sat facing towards me, the reflective metal glinting in the sunlight streaming in from the treetops. With shaking hands, I plucked the golden coin and held it up to my face.
Oh. No. It all makes sense now.
Human Tanks
Radioactive particles. Chibi combat robots.
They are memories of war
Artillery. Radar. Scout Rush.
Prove your existence with the rifle in your hands
Cheetosay. Chitose.
Human Tanks
Micae. Mike.
That is your instinct
I'm an Imperial Recon Tank.
Panting like a hound, I stumbled away from the blast crater as fast as I could, stealth be damned. Screaming metal and a growing feeling of horror in the pit of my stomach ensued as my horribly abused foot protested, the extremity bending and flopping in way no foot should. Blanking it all out through the sheer horror racing through my mind, I crashed my way through the undergrowth on the glorified peg-leg.
No. Nonono. This setting is hyper-lethal to grunt troops like me. Have to get away.
Intercept: 1D100 => 2
"Hey, you!"
A sudden shout came from my left, and I instinctively turned to look. Another girl appeared beside a tree, leaning her torso out from behind the gnarled trunk. Her hand whipped up from her waist and-
AAAAHH
I can't see!
I tumbled to an ungraceful halt, rolling across the root-strewn floor on sheer momentum to plunge into a small hollow. My hands gingerly groped the gash occupying the left side of my face, and I swallowed in horror as my questing fingers found a ruined mess where my eye would be. Television static filled the entire left field of my sight as my twitching eyelid closed over an eye that was no longer there.
Dimly, my ears picked out the distinct pop-popping of gunfire, as sharp thunks echoed through the trunk of the tree.
My hand drifted down to my waist, and felt a large object strapped to my hip.
Retaliate: 1D100 => 34
I've had enough.
"Eat shit and DIE!" Whipping out the object (an Imperial Recon Handgun, my mind supplied), I leaned out from cover and snapped off a wild volley of shots at the offending enemy. Wicking candle-wisp bullets flicked out from both of our muzzles as we traded fire, the harsh crack-boom of my sidearm drowning the blasted world out for a few moments even as my left shoulder abruptly caved inward from a lucky bullet. My left arm dangling uselessly at my side, I seamlessly switched to one-hand shooting and emptied the rest of my magazine at the little bitch.
The greenette's head rocked back all of a sudden, a bright flash puffing from the side of her head and sending her twintailed hair fluttering. I choked out a strangled cheer at the sight, only for it to devolve into panicked fumbling as the pistol in my hand clicked empty.
As I struggled to reload the unfamiliar(?) weapon one-handed, the back of my neck prickled and my other-sense prickled.
"Come in, Command! There's an enemy Recon Tank at my position, it's in radar range of the artillery squads! Relaying coordinates!"
Oh, fuck.
Banzai: 1D100 => 57
I may or may not have screamed a "mucho weeaboo war cry" as I burst out into the open, freshly-loaded gun in hand. Waving my arms like a maniac and hollering like a loon, I bumrushed the gap between us while firing all the way. For the first three seconds of my flight I was treated to the sight of the enemy soldier gaping at the spectacle, eyes wide and mouth open in a comical "O" as her brain struggled to process the drunk barbarian antics in front of her. Snapping out of it, she shook her head violently and raised her weapon.
Too late.
Whatever-tonnes of irate loli battle-machine smashed into the little trooper like a tidal wave, my body pitching forward in the last lunge as my abused foot gave way and inadvertently adding to my momentum. The enemy's gun went flying as we tumbled into a flailing pile of limbs, with me unashamedly biting and scratching and punching in a haze of wild rage. Hauling myself atop the prone figure, I raised my arms and began to rain a steady beat of fists upon the helpless trooper. Eventually, the enemy's spirited struggles began to peter off and it lay limp between my legs.
Struggling back to my feet, I leveled my gun. Before me lay a young girl, her face all battered her body limp. Glowing red eyes stained with tears stared up at me, her cherubic cheeks twitching as the skin on her face began to bruise over.
I gulped, sweat dripping from my forehead. The sights of my gun shivered.
Do I really want to do this?
Out of the corner of my eye, one of her hands twitched towards a certain direction. Her handgun, lying discarded, half a meter away.
My finger coiled.
Gunshot. X 110, Y 091.
Dignity: 1D100 => 95
The smoking remains of the g-enemy, the enemy, lying at my feet, I rested my weathered frame against one of the trees in the area and leaned back. Our scuffle had carried us into a clearing in the forest, and I could see the sky through a rare hole through the all-encompassing canopy. Fluffy white clouds mingled with streaks of grey through the clear blue sky, comets streaking their way through the heavens to kiss the distant earth far off somewhere. The early noon sun cast a deep azure pallor across the empyrean, and my sole remaining eye picked out the faint twinkle of starlight.
Ah, I remember now. Being seen is a death sentence.
Thunder rumbled around me, a dancing leaf kissing my cheek.
Pushing off the knotted bark of the ancient tree, I hobbled into the center of the grove and tilted my head to face the sky. Plumes of dancing flame blossomed unnoticed amidst the trees I had just left, the wind running gentle fingers through my sandy-brown hair and stroking my face with the touch of summer. The blocky pistol clasped in my hand I let go, my dutiful companion coming to a rest at last with a soft thump.
So tired.
One of the stars brightened to eclipse the others, and I looked up into the light. Oh, so bright.
I felt a pressure on my chest-
To all the Human Tanks
Living in this world
Your enemy stands before you
Pull the triggers and annihilate them
=====[]=====
Living in this world
Your enemy stands before you
Pull the triggers and annihilate them
=====[]=====
In a forest in the middle of a grassland, a pockmarked clearing stood in the middle of a copse of burning trees. A pillar of ash scarred the center of the grove, its base aglow with embers dispersing wisps of light. Metal glinted within the depths of the pit, and swathes of green cloth danced across the area as they fluttered and burned.
Nestled on a bed of flashed-dried grass, a small brown bundle lay a short distance away.
"I-I mattered," a tinny voice gasped, spitting out each word with herculean effort. "my n-name is-!"
Crimson eyes flashing and dimming, the decapitated head gave one final twitch and fell silent.
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Master Basher
hYPER Demon
- Location
- UK
... Well, that seems to be a really brutal one shot. Then again, alas, a Human Tanks fanfic on SV!
Watched, in case there's more than one, or as a prelude to some reincarnation hijinks.
EDIT: Also noticed some hidden invisidice in hand, wonder what's the context of it.
Watched, in case there's more than one, or as a prelude to some reincarnation hijinks.
EDIT: Also noticed some hidden invisidice in hand, wonder what's the context of it.
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HarakoniWarhawk
Striking from the Skies
- Location
- Holy Terra
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I have no clue what the setting is but more Plox.
Master Basher
hYPER Demon
- Location
- UK
Oh, you mean please?I have no clue what the setting is but more Plox.
Because I definitely recognize the setting from the initials alone. Thought "wait a minute, could it be..." And all it took, was the references, and you'd be hailing to the sound of Human Tanks. (Which in general, is a series of tactical games featuring cute Tank Girl's who are animorphistic weapons of war. Akin to 'Tanks' in moe culture.)
All I can do, is bar maybe hoping that the story continues from what was seen previously being likely 'death by decapitation joy'. And hey, maybe being recycled into a better/worser body would be a sort of 'life' system?
Still, bar curious/interest on dice checks, I wonder how/where in the setting the person is inserted to, and what potential ramifications could be had if his 'sentience' is ever discovered, for better/worse.
Either way, watching with a sniper scope.
Librarian
SAN Loss Isn't Fun Anymore...
I have no clue what the setting is but more Plox.
War of the Human Tanks. Kind of an "infantry"-based game of Battleship, with the two sides maneuvering to locate and destroy each other's units with a wide array of weaponry.
Most of the units have one cell of health, for a BATTLESHIP-esque game. Largest units go up to six cells, while attack radii can go up to eight or more.
Hyper-lethal, yes.
... Well, that seems to be a really brutal one shot. Then again, alas, a Human Tanks fanfic on SV!
Watched, in case there's more than one, or as a prelude to some reincarnation hijinks.
EDIT: Also noticed some hidden invisidice in hand, wonder what's the context of it.
Invistext is as invistext does. Experimenting with a more luck-based battle progression to help with flow.
As the threadmark states, this is the Prologue. More are coming.
Ah, and also? This is not an SI story.
People die when they are killed.
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Librarian
SAN Loss Isn't Fun Anymore...
If anyone's interested, today's prologue was brought to you by the following sponsors:
- No FreePlay/Replay rush in WotHT: ALTER, 1-cell Imperial troops only.
- In Flanders Fields - Youtube
- Query: Self-Insert Fanfiction without Self Insert character?
- SCIENCE
- Writing Practice
Chapter 1.1
Librarian
SAN Loss Isn't Fun Anymore...
Author's Note: Experimented with a crowd scene. The nice thing about Human Tanks are that they're pretty easy to write, what with their childlike demeanour and not-too-great intelligence.
"Hey, Chief! The boys just found something for ya!"
"I see 'em. Royal ARs, Royal 'zookas, Imperial wrecks... Have the lads haul all the Royal stuff to the furnaces and have them melted down for scrap, you and I'll be looking over all this for anything salvageable. Wait a minute, that a Human Tank's head sitting over there? Bring it over for me, will ya?"
"Right, boss. Yeesh, the Royals really did a number on this poor thing, didn't they? Bullet must have bounced off the rim of its helmet and carved open the left side of its face. Cranium's pretty intact for something so banged up though, all we found was a half-melted artillery warhead embedded in the remains of the rest of it."
"Dud round, eh? Musta punched clean through the torso and ripped out the reactor faster than the self-destruct mechanism could trigger, causing the damn thing to blow up behind the Tank. Happens from time to time, especially with the shitty trigger mechanisms on them Royal Bazookas."
"Uh huh. So boss, what're we gonna do with this thing then?"
"Hmm. The interior looks fine, looks like skull absorbed most of the damage. Here, plug this thing into the computers and make sure it's still running, we'll just build a new body around it."
"Got it, boss. Waitaminute, I'm seeing a lot of junk coding and corrupted data in here, archival's hit pretty bad and personality matrix's all but toast. Might have to reformat the whole thing, but I'll need a couple of hours and it's getting pretty late. What do I do, boss?"
"Just purge the corrupted parts and splice in one of the Mike OS backups we have sitting around, should be good enough. The brass won't care as long as it can scout and shoot, 'sides Human Tanks don't last all that long out here anyway."
"Got it, boss."
=====[]=====
(RE)CONSTRUCTION IN PROGRESS, APOLOGIES FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.
=====[]=====
Chapter 1.1
"Hey, Chief! The boys just found something for ya!"
"I see 'em. Royal ARs, Royal 'zookas, Imperial wrecks... Have the lads haul all the Royal stuff to the furnaces and have them melted down for scrap, you and I'll be looking over all this for anything salvageable. Wait a minute, that a Human Tank's head sitting over there? Bring it over for me, will ya?"
"Right, boss. Yeesh, the Royals really did a number on this poor thing, didn't they? Bullet must have bounced off the rim of its helmet and carved open the left side of its face. Cranium's pretty intact for something so banged up though, all we found was a half-melted artillery warhead embedded in the remains of the rest of it."
"Dud round, eh? Musta punched clean through the torso and ripped out the reactor faster than the self-destruct mechanism could trigger, causing the damn thing to blow up behind the Tank. Happens from time to time, especially with the shitty trigger mechanisms on them Royal Bazookas."
"Uh huh. So boss, what're we gonna do with this thing then?"
"Hmm. The interior looks fine, looks like skull absorbed most of the damage. Here, plug this thing into the computers and make sure it's still running, we'll just build a new body around it."
"Got it, boss. Waitaminute, I'm seeing a lot of junk coding and corrupted data in here, archival's hit pretty bad and personality matrix's all but toast. Might have to reformat the whole thing, but I'll need a couple of hours and it's getting pretty late. What do I do, boss?"
"Just purge the corrupted parts and splice in one of the Mike OS backups we have sitting around, should be good enough. The brass won't care as long as it can scout and shoot, 'sides Human Tanks don't last all that long out here anyway."
"Got it, boss."
=====[]=====
(RE)CONSTRUCTION IN PROGRESS, APOLOGIES FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.
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Master Basher
hYPER Demon
- Location
- UK
... Oh~ boy, the worst part/thought, is even if you survive, your memories may be wiped regardless. That aside, maybe the sentience would still be there? Which could lead to even more horror...
Librarian
SAN Loss Isn't Fun Anymore...
Not much memories to speak of. The last fragments of the previous mind have been wallpapered over in general, but the rush job for a by-all-respects mass production machine means that the new OS and Mike's greymatter don't quite gel. Grunt units don't get customized maintenance.
The result: a glitchy Human Tank that may or may not spontaneously mutate loopholes to Asimov's Three Laws (among other things).
As for the last part? Just re-imagine the prologue chapter in the eyes of a regular Recon Tank.
- Human Tanks are basically fun-sized Terminators.
- Human Tanks have no qualms with destroying enemies.
- Human Tanks do not have the mental capacity for moral quandaries.
- Human Tanks will do anything to please their superiors. Anything.
- Even the dedicated suicide-bomber units, the Shock Tanks, detonate themselves freely on command.
- Human Tanks generally have the psyche of small children.
the creation of the Albatross
Even as they're firing, even as they're dying, They. Are. Still. Smiling.
CuteHorror is a go.
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Hammerheadcruiser
Eagle-1 my beloved
- Location
- Anaxes
Well that was different. Interested to see where it goes, especially since I've never heard of Human Tanks.
- Location
- Over the hill and far away
very neat! Definitely something I hadn't seen before, too.