- Location
- Utah, salt lake city
This is pretty good. Continue please?
The Crystal Lord (C&C:TW/Berserk SI)
- Thread starter PyrrhicSteel
- Start date
- Crossover
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Don't worry. I haven't been working on it as much as I'd like because of finals week kind of thrashed my free time, but that's over now. I would say expect it tonight, but I expected to have it out the night before last, so I won't.
JoshuaSweetvale
Insectovore
- Location
- NL, 65 Million Years Ago
The world of Berserk is arguably worse than Warhammer; it's in the habit of actively pushing against improvement.
Then again, GDI tech is pretty much defined by its toughness.
Unstoppable gribblies versus immovable clarketech, GO!
On a more human note, how long until Our Hero gets pissed off enough that feeds some throwaway corrupt authoritarian and his disgusting stooges to (the treads of) a slaved Mammoth tank?
Then again, GDI tech is pretty much defined by its toughness.
Unstoppable gribblies versus immovable clarketech, GO!
On a more human note, how long until Our Hero gets pissed off enough that feeds some throwaway corrupt authoritarian and his disgusting stooges to (the treads of) a slaved Mammoth tank?
- Location
- universe
That's incredible news.
This Story is something that i always look forward to seeing continued.
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
It was too big to be called a tank. Massive, slow, heavy, and far too tough. Indeed, it was a fortress with treads.
I also just typed up a big paragraph about the SI's philosophy behind the heavy hitters, but I figure that'll get explained enough in the future. I'll just say if someone needs executing, then I'm somewhat partial to more... melodious techniques.
- Location
- Up there somewhere. (Im a bit lost)
As in the percussive Melody of Artillery Fire? Ive never played C&C but in SupCom my favorite thing to build was always long range Arty or nukes.
JoshuaSweetvale
Insectovore
- Location
- NL, 65 Million Years Ago
Never played C&C either but I think I remember something Our Hero might have planned. I'll reread this story later today and then wait anxiously for more!
08: Suspicion
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
The only entrance to the structure seemed to be two gigantic doors in the front, which seemed to slide open and shut on their own. The dull-grey slabs dwarfed Alessia, and as she slipped through the gap between them she couldn't shake the premonition of them slamming shut behind her. They lay still after she entered, but that could change at any time.
Inside, the rustle of wind seemed to disappear entirely, masked by what sounded like a low, even buzzing. It was barely noticeable, but now Alessia had taken note of it she couldn't get it out of her mind. A part of her mind, one she'd kept telling herself she'd outgrown, summoned the image of a great leviathan breathing out, and out, and out.
That wasn't all. While the center of the entrance room was dark, a pair of balconies on either side were eerily well-lit. These points of luminance were too steady to be candles, and varied in color far too much to be sunlight. Perhaps this was just another use of The Commander's strange power? No, she was fairly sure the man wasn't here. If he was a sorcerer, then whatever The Commander's powers were they had to have originated here.
Avoiding the dark center of the chamber, from which several strange sculptures hung, Alessia cautiously made her way onto a balcony and deeper into the building. There was no doubt it had been crafted from metal, but Alessia only found more questions by examining it. Where had so much iron come from? Why were there so many hollow spaces carved into the walkway? Alessia felt the wrought iron would break with every step she took, and found herself clinging to the railing.
The wall opposite of the entrance confused Alessia. She wasn't sure the bogglingly-complex array of shapes, windows and patterns was a singular portion of the structure, or dozens of smaller objects intertwined into a tapestry of steel and iron. It didn't seem to serve any purpose. It wasn't lit well enough for decoration, and if there was a logic behind their placement it was beyond her. Perhaps something related to a ritual? It seemed too complex for that, which was a statement Alessia never thought possible.
The balcony gave way to an open doorway, more of that ethereal illumination pouring through a short hall and into the entrance chamber. Her curiosity barely overcoming caution and fear, she tightened the grip on her dagger and delved deeper into the structure. A doorway to her left seemed to lead directly behind the strange wall, but if inside held any solutions they would have to wait.
A gigantic panel, made of some glassy material, dominated the far wall of the room. Along the left wall, a steel ladder lead downwards, it's destination obscured in darkness. The right wall was dominated by another unknown sculpture, along with a door decorated by simple image of two people, separated by a line. In the center of the room was a bare table, sporting a tablet that was covered in an array of arcane symbols.
The strange light originated from the forward wall, bathing the room in aquamarine palor. Hundreds of lights, some pulsing, some flickering, and others steady, dominated the wall, set into intricate tiles dominating the wall in a steady array. They weren't set in mortar, but instead were segregated by metal plates, more of the unsteady light finding its way from between the gaps.
Unlike the mess of iron that dominated the entrance hall, this room seemed purposeful. Orderly. While it's function was beyond Alessia, she could almost imagine The Commander working here. The nature of that work, though…
There was clearly great power here. Nothing she knew could produce such light. How did the Commander use it?
She forced herself to look away from the glowing wall, instead focusing on the strange table in the center of the room. The black tablet dominated it's center, rows of unknown runes etched into its surface. They had to mean something. Alessia's fingers hovered over the object, but she didn't dare touch it. Who knows what could happen if-
"Inbound build request: Command Priority."
Alessia lept backwards, her dagger forgotten as light poured from the panel in front of her. That voice! The sudden statement, emotionless and uncanny as it was, seemed to be emanating from the walls themselves! The now glowing panel was filled with images and symbols, constantly changing spiral of patterns. She caught a glimpse of the diving eagle before she turned and ran, trying to find the fastest way out.
"Enlisted Barracks selected."
The entire structure seemed to spring to life. Alessia's exodus died almost as soon as it had begun as a cacophony of humming, buzzing, crashing and growling emanated from the entrance hall.
What unholy abomination could be up there? It was like the entire building had been lying dormant until she'd entered, before awakening enraged at her trespass. At least she'd stumbled into this death trap alone. If only she could warn them...
"Building…"
She needed to get away from the thing she'd awoken, but it had cut off her only avenue of escape. All she could do is hide and hope whatever was out there didn't find her. Perhaps the door was another exit. She threw it open, but when the dark room flooded with more of that unnatural light Alessia slammed it shut again.
The ladder was another choice. Opposite of the closet, it descended into darkness, farther away from whatever was outside. She hurried towards it, but once again stopped. The odd closet had been dark before she entered, as well. She didn't know what was down there, and would be vulnerable while descending. She couldn't risk it.
There was no other hiding spot then behind the desk, then. There, she would be exposed to the strange, glowing, moving panel, but this was the best she could do. Her breadth unsteady and her arms shaking, Alessia pressed herself against the pedestal, curling up to fit and clutching her dagger close.
She knew that wasn't enough.
Minutes passed. Alessia didn't move, her knees clutched against her chest. That… thing out there continued to rage, a ceaseless torrent of noise that varied in intensity seemingly at random. The slab in front of her continued to move and change, arcane symbols dancing across its surface. That thing wasn't moving. Had it not realised where she was? She… she doubted that. Perhaps it was too large to enter, and knowing Alessia was trapped, was content waiting in the entrance hall. There wasn't any food here.
Time dragged on, each minute seeming to take days, and as the immediacy of the threat waned Alessia found her thoughts drifting to more disturbing matters. That voice… The structure itself had spoken. A building had spoken. Did that mean- It didn't have a soul, did it? Only man bore a spirit, as the priest near her home would attest. The Commander must have taken it from someone to draw the machine's power.
With that, a horrible realization hit Alessia: That must be why he saved them! The Commander used some sort of horrid sorcery to conjure structures, using the power of maiden's soul. Her sympathy went out to the poor woman she'd heard. The voice had been flat, emotionless. Was it the stress of running The Commander's devices, or was the unnatural strain slowly tearing it apart?
Such a terrible fate… Beast or no, she needed to warn Ruth and the others. No end at the hands of bandits could compare to such as this!
Alessia's grip on the dagger tightened, and she made herself to stand, but another sound made her pause. Through the storm of noises, a familiar beat suddenly made itself clear. The sound of boots on iron was new to her, but she knew what a footstep sounded like. Someone, she was certain who, was rushing towards her.
The Commander.
The monster outside must have been waiting for him to arrive! Alessia didn't know what he would do to her, but whatever it was there wouldn't be much Alessia could do to stop him. Considering her potential fate, she couldn't make it easy for him. The dagger seemed to grow heavier in her hands. It would be her best way out, but getting to him would be an issue. Visions of the Snake Lord's men made their resurgence in Alessia's mind. Rushing him was out of the question. He had a better weapon, better clothing, and better strength.
Maybe she could trick him into coming close. Acting helpless and terrified wouldn't be difficult. There was a risk that, now she was in here, the Commander could use whatever sorcery he wanted to take care of her from a distance, but she couldn't think of a better option.
Careful not to cut her surcoat, Alessia tucked the dagger behind her back. Getting to it shouldn't be too difficult. With that, Alessia placed her right hand on the ground, near the weapon, and clutched her knees to her breast with the other.
The drumbeat of incoming footsteps came to an abrupt halt. Despite the noise from the entrance hall, Alessia's panicked gasping seemed to echo off the walls.
"Hello?"
The Commander's voice seemed innocent, but Alessia wasn't willing to test that. The silence remained for a moment, before the footsteps resumed. She craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of her captor as he appeared from around the pedestal.
Even when they were both standing, the Commander seemed to tower over Alessia. Now? He was a titan, unmoving, uncaring. For what seemed like minutes, his eyes seemed to stare into her. From how the brim of his hat cast his face into shadow even considering the multitude of light sources, it was impossible to read him. His grey, angular clothing that once seemed strange perfectly fitting the room they were in.
Until he suddenly knelt a few feet away from her, bringing his face to Alessia's level. The change in his cap's angle brought his face into the light, and the peasant finally found she could read him.
"Alright." The Commander scratched his chin, his eyes momentarily unfocusing before once again meeting Alessia's unflinching stare. "Before I explain anything, I want to say this: You're safe here."
Alessia couldn't sum up the courage to respond. The Commander's gaze was surprisingly calm. The way he held is face portrayed sympathy and guilt, but she didn't believe for a moment those were his true feelings.
"All of this." His arm swept from the glowing closet, past the strange, moving images on the panel, and finally resting when it was pointing towards the ladder. "Is a machine. It's significantly more complex than a clock or my gun, but fundamentally the same."
Alessia's eyes narrowed. She couldn't believe was he was saying. She'd never seen a clock, but she'd heard of the timekeeping device nobles sometimes used. No clock could speak, no matter how many craftsmen worked on it. Still, she remained quiet. Maybe this commander would reveal something useful if she let him keep talking.
"Okay, look. Up there." He pointed to a position above the moving images. "Is a generator of some sort. I don't know if it runs off of tiberium or converts the stuff into a better fuel, but-" There was a pause as he shook his head. "Alright, you know lightning? Thunder?"
Alessia could tell what The Commander was saying made sense to him, but to her it he might as well be speaking Kushan. It took her a second to realise he'd actually asked her a question. A short nod was all she could handle.
"Alright. I don't know what your people say causes it, but the people who built this discovered it's an example of a force known as electricity. Everything you see here is powered by that. Does that make sense?"
Alessia… guessed it did. Souls were a very powerful thing, but lightning… She knew it could strike down even the largest of creatures, or reduce a house or tree to charred remains in under an instant. Doing so seemed reckless and fraught with danger, but if it's brilliance and power could be successfully harnessed…
"Perhaps…"
"Good. Now, the structure we're in is something called a Construction Yard. It's a building that builds buildings." The Commander stood, motioning towards the entrance before extending his hand to Alessia. "I've got it building shelter for everyone. Care to see?"
The knife temporarily forgotten, Alessia stared up at the Commander. She had too many questions to sort through properly, and the talking question was still unanswered, but what other choice did she have? Her mind still racing, she took the offered hand.
"I'm sorry for scaring you." The Commander continued, releasing his grip once Alessia's feet had steadied. "I… I don't have much time, so I couldn't wait for you to leave before activating the Conyard." Hang on.
Hands still shaking from her ordeal, Alessia's pace ground to a halt. "You knew I was in here?"
"Yes." The Commander replied, turning to face her.
"And you still… told this building to start… building more buildings?"
"That's what the Conyard does, ye-"
His statement was cut off when Alessia's hand met his cheek. How could he? She went through that nightmare, feared for her life, because he was impatient? Right now, the hows of the Commander's actions weren't important, with one exception. How can someone be so nonchalant about such cruelty?
Entirely unprepared, The Commander reeled from the blow, taking a step backwards to steady himself. His cheek had already flushed a brilliant pink by the time a hand shot up to nurse it. His eyes, once relaxed, were plastered with shock.
As the man recovered, her actions finally dawned on Alessia. She'd let her temper get the better of her, and now she, a commoner woman, had struck a a man of unknown standing, perhaps a noble! The incident with this 'Conyard' aside, he'd seemed to harbor good will towards them… and she'd squandered it.
She averted her gaze from the man. Who knew how someone so callous would respond to such an insult? Still, her fury allowed her to once more meet The Commander's eyes. The deed had already been done. She might as well remain sincere in the face of punishment.
As the seconds dragged on, Alessia could only hope The Commander's revenge would only fall on her shoulders, and not those of her friends.
Inside, the rustle of wind seemed to disappear entirely, masked by what sounded like a low, even buzzing. It was barely noticeable, but now Alessia had taken note of it she couldn't get it out of her mind. A part of her mind, one she'd kept telling herself she'd outgrown, summoned the image of a great leviathan breathing out, and out, and out.
That wasn't all. While the center of the entrance room was dark, a pair of balconies on either side were eerily well-lit. These points of luminance were too steady to be candles, and varied in color far too much to be sunlight. Perhaps this was just another use of The Commander's strange power? No, she was fairly sure the man wasn't here. If he was a sorcerer, then whatever The Commander's powers were they had to have originated here.
Avoiding the dark center of the chamber, from which several strange sculptures hung, Alessia cautiously made her way onto a balcony and deeper into the building. There was no doubt it had been crafted from metal, but Alessia only found more questions by examining it. Where had so much iron come from? Why were there so many hollow spaces carved into the walkway? Alessia felt the wrought iron would break with every step she took, and found herself clinging to the railing.
The wall opposite of the entrance confused Alessia. She wasn't sure the bogglingly-complex array of shapes, windows and patterns was a singular portion of the structure, or dozens of smaller objects intertwined into a tapestry of steel and iron. It didn't seem to serve any purpose. It wasn't lit well enough for decoration, and if there was a logic behind their placement it was beyond her. Perhaps something related to a ritual? It seemed too complex for that, which was a statement Alessia never thought possible.
The balcony gave way to an open doorway, more of that ethereal illumination pouring through a short hall and into the entrance chamber. Her curiosity barely overcoming caution and fear, she tightened the grip on her dagger and delved deeper into the structure. A doorway to her left seemed to lead directly behind the strange wall, but if inside held any solutions they would have to wait.
A gigantic panel, made of some glassy material, dominated the far wall of the room. Along the left wall, a steel ladder lead downwards, it's destination obscured in darkness. The right wall was dominated by another unknown sculpture, along with a door decorated by simple image of two people, separated by a line. In the center of the room was a bare table, sporting a tablet that was covered in an array of arcane symbols.
The strange light originated from the forward wall, bathing the room in aquamarine palor. Hundreds of lights, some pulsing, some flickering, and others steady, dominated the wall, set into intricate tiles dominating the wall in a steady array. They weren't set in mortar, but instead were segregated by metal plates, more of the unsteady light finding its way from between the gaps.
Unlike the mess of iron that dominated the entrance hall, this room seemed purposeful. Orderly. While it's function was beyond Alessia, she could almost imagine The Commander working here. The nature of that work, though…
There was clearly great power here. Nothing she knew could produce such light. How did the Commander use it?
She forced herself to look away from the glowing wall, instead focusing on the strange table in the center of the room. The black tablet dominated it's center, rows of unknown runes etched into its surface. They had to mean something. Alessia's fingers hovered over the object, but she didn't dare touch it. Who knows what could happen if-
"Inbound build request: Command Priority."
Alessia lept backwards, her dagger forgotten as light poured from the panel in front of her. That voice! The sudden statement, emotionless and uncanny as it was, seemed to be emanating from the walls themselves! The now glowing panel was filled with images and symbols, constantly changing spiral of patterns. She caught a glimpse of the diving eagle before she turned and ran, trying to find the fastest way out.
"Enlisted Barracks selected."
The entire structure seemed to spring to life. Alessia's exodus died almost as soon as it had begun as a cacophony of humming, buzzing, crashing and growling emanated from the entrance hall.
What unholy abomination could be up there? It was like the entire building had been lying dormant until she'd entered, before awakening enraged at her trespass. At least she'd stumbled into this death trap alone. If only she could warn them...
"Building…"
She needed to get away from the thing she'd awoken, but it had cut off her only avenue of escape. All she could do is hide and hope whatever was out there didn't find her. Perhaps the door was another exit. She threw it open, but when the dark room flooded with more of that unnatural light Alessia slammed it shut again.
The ladder was another choice. Opposite of the closet, it descended into darkness, farther away from whatever was outside. She hurried towards it, but once again stopped. The odd closet had been dark before she entered, as well. She didn't know what was down there, and would be vulnerable while descending. She couldn't risk it.
There was no other hiding spot then behind the desk, then. There, she would be exposed to the strange, glowing, moving panel, but this was the best she could do. Her breadth unsteady and her arms shaking, Alessia pressed herself against the pedestal, curling up to fit and clutching her dagger close.
She knew that wasn't enough.
Minutes passed. Alessia didn't move, her knees clutched against her chest. That… thing out there continued to rage, a ceaseless torrent of noise that varied in intensity seemingly at random. The slab in front of her continued to move and change, arcane symbols dancing across its surface. That thing wasn't moving. Had it not realised where she was? She… she doubted that. Perhaps it was too large to enter, and knowing Alessia was trapped, was content waiting in the entrance hall. There wasn't any food here.
Time dragged on, each minute seeming to take days, and as the immediacy of the threat waned Alessia found her thoughts drifting to more disturbing matters. That voice… The structure itself had spoken. A building had spoken. Did that mean- It didn't have a soul, did it? Only man bore a spirit, as the priest near her home would attest. The Commander must have taken it from someone to draw the machine's power.
With that, a horrible realization hit Alessia: That must be why he saved them! The Commander used some sort of horrid sorcery to conjure structures, using the power of maiden's soul. Her sympathy went out to the poor woman she'd heard. The voice had been flat, emotionless. Was it the stress of running The Commander's devices, or was the unnatural strain slowly tearing it apart?
Such a terrible fate… Beast or no, she needed to warn Ruth and the others. No end at the hands of bandits could compare to such as this!
Alessia's grip on the dagger tightened, and she made herself to stand, but another sound made her pause. Through the storm of noises, a familiar beat suddenly made itself clear. The sound of boots on iron was new to her, but she knew what a footstep sounded like. Someone, she was certain who, was rushing towards her.
The Commander.
The monster outside must have been waiting for him to arrive! Alessia didn't know what he would do to her, but whatever it was there wouldn't be much Alessia could do to stop him. Considering her potential fate, she couldn't make it easy for him. The dagger seemed to grow heavier in her hands. It would be her best way out, but getting to him would be an issue. Visions of the Snake Lord's men made their resurgence in Alessia's mind. Rushing him was out of the question. He had a better weapon, better clothing, and better strength.
Maybe she could trick him into coming close. Acting helpless and terrified wouldn't be difficult. There was a risk that, now she was in here, the Commander could use whatever sorcery he wanted to take care of her from a distance, but she couldn't think of a better option.
Careful not to cut her surcoat, Alessia tucked the dagger behind her back. Getting to it shouldn't be too difficult. With that, Alessia placed her right hand on the ground, near the weapon, and clutched her knees to her breast with the other.
The drumbeat of incoming footsteps came to an abrupt halt. Despite the noise from the entrance hall, Alessia's panicked gasping seemed to echo off the walls.
"Hello?"
The Commander's voice seemed innocent, but Alessia wasn't willing to test that. The silence remained for a moment, before the footsteps resumed. She craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of her captor as he appeared from around the pedestal.
Even when they were both standing, the Commander seemed to tower over Alessia. Now? He was a titan, unmoving, uncaring. For what seemed like minutes, his eyes seemed to stare into her. From how the brim of his hat cast his face into shadow even considering the multitude of light sources, it was impossible to read him. His grey, angular clothing that once seemed strange perfectly fitting the room they were in.
Until he suddenly knelt a few feet away from her, bringing his face to Alessia's level. The change in his cap's angle brought his face into the light, and the peasant finally found she could read him.
"Alright." The Commander scratched his chin, his eyes momentarily unfocusing before once again meeting Alessia's unflinching stare. "Before I explain anything, I want to say this: You're safe here."
Alessia couldn't sum up the courage to respond. The Commander's gaze was surprisingly calm. The way he held is face portrayed sympathy and guilt, but she didn't believe for a moment those were his true feelings.
"All of this." His arm swept from the glowing closet, past the strange, moving images on the panel, and finally resting when it was pointing towards the ladder. "Is a machine. It's significantly more complex than a clock or my gun, but fundamentally the same."
Alessia's eyes narrowed. She couldn't believe was he was saying. She'd never seen a clock, but she'd heard of the timekeeping device nobles sometimes used. No clock could speak, no matter how many craftsmen worked on it. Still, she remained quiet. Maybe this commander would reveal something useful if she let him keep talking.
"Okay, look. Up there." He pointed to a position above the moving images. "Is a generator of some sort. I don't know if it runs off of tiberium or converts the stuff into a better fuel, but-" There was a pause as he shook his head. "Alright, you know lightning? Thunder?"
Alessia could tell what The Commander was saying made sense to him, but to her it he might as well be speaking Kushan. It took her a second to realise he'd actually asked her a question. A short nod was all she could handle.
"Alright. I don't know what your people say causes it, but the people who built this discovered it's an example of a force known as electricity. Everything you see here is powered by that. Does that make sense?"
Alessia… guessed it did. Souls were a very powerful thing, but lightning… She knew it could strike down even the largest of creatures, or reduce a house or tree to charred remains in under an instant. Doing so seemed reckless and fraught with danger, but if it's brilliance and power could be successfully harnessed…
"Perhaps…"
"Good. Now, the structure we're in is something called a Construction Yard. It's a building that builds buildings." The Commander stood, motioning towards the entrance before extending his hand to Alessia. "I've got it building shelter for everyone. Care to see?"
The knife temporarily forgotten, Alessia stared up at the Commander. She had too many questions to sort through properly, and the talking question was still unanswered, but what other choice did she have? Her mind still racing, she took the offered hand.
"I'm sorry for scaring you." The Commander continued, releasing his grip once Alessia's feet had steadied. "I… I don't have much time, so I couldn't wait for you to leave before activating the Conyard." Hang on.
Hands still shaking from her ordeal, Alessia's pace ground to a halt. "You knew I was in here?"
"Yes." The Commander replied, turning to face her.
"And you still… told this building to start… building more buildings?"
"That's what the Conyard does, ye-"
His statement was cut off when Alessia's hand met his cheek. How could he? She went through that nightmare, feared for her life, because he was impatient? Right now, the hows of the Commander's actions weren't important, with one exception. How can someone be so nonchalant about such cruelty?
Entirely unprepared, The Commander reeled from the blow, taking a step backwards to steady himself. His cheek had already flushed a brilliant pink by the time a hand shot up to nurse it. His eyes, once relaxed, were plastered with shock.
As the man recovered, her actions finally dawned on Alessia. She'd let her temper get the better of her, and now she, a commoner woman, had struck a a man of unknown standing, perhaps a noble! The incident with this 'Conyard' aside, he'd seemed to harbor good will towards them… and she'd squandered it.
She averted her gaze from the man. Who knew how someone so callous would respond to such an insult? Still, her fury allowed her to once more meet The Commander's eyes. The deed had already been done. She might as well remain sincere in the face of punishment.
As the seconds dragged on, Alessia could only hope The Commander's revenge would only fall on her shoulders, and not those of her friends.
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We talking second war Disruptors or third war Shatterers? You might have already said it, but I missed if you stated which GDI era tech base he's got access to.
- Location
- Earth, Sol System
Well, there's the medieval drama we were looking for! Just not what he was expecting.
- Location
- Canada
Typos in the latest chapter:
held
Not sure what the first part is supposed to be. I think writing "to her" there is technically correct, but it reads awkwardly and is entirely unnecessary. Maybe you missed a direction word ("to her left/right") or something?
held
she'd
weapon
I don't think the "of" is supposed to be there.
- Location
- Arizona
This is what showed up in my head when he got slapped.
Smooth.
"Okay. I deserved that. But everyone gets one. That was yours."
Mark IIIs not Mark IIs?
I suppose there is something to be said about having mega treads rather than quadrapeds.
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
I guess that's what happens when you get all your writing in after 22:00, I guess. Thanks for the criticism!
We're dealing with Tiberium Wars tech, which means I not only have Shatterers, but also sonic emitters, sonic fences, sonic missiles, and sonic grenades, all of which are equally awesome.
It also means only the Mammoth 27 is on the table. I never really liked the Mk 2, it reminded me too much of the AT-AT no matter how fun it was to use.
That being said, it would be really sad if all the Reclamator Hub did was to throw a MARV together...
- Location
- United Kingdom
Never really been a fan of the incompetant SI troupe, but seems reasonable otherwise
NuclearBird
More issues than Reader's Digest
- Location
- Here and There
But AT-ATs are awesome! What's the downside of that?
- Location
- universe
I'm not sure how this SI could be seen as incompetent considering the circumstances.
- Location
- United Kingdom
So generally you get two types of SI, the first being one who is very competent in all they do, is able to handle weapons, always keeps calm etc. They usually aren't really a character but a means by which the author presents the changes that they want to have occur in the narrative. They frequently call other characters out on stupid decisions etc but dont actually change much.
The second type is the SI who shoots someone and collapses to cry, or freaks out for the first 5 chapters about being dumped in a fictional universe, who moans about whether the people they're interacting with are actually real and so on.
To an extend, this SI fits into the second case, though obviously its not the tightest fit
- Location
- universe
The mistake you're making here is in assuming that the presence of those features automatically makes a fic bad, or inclusive of an actual incompetent SI. The thing is, a character can have all of those reactions and then some, but still be a badass motherfucker who's competent and capable of handling things. Those features are only bad if it paints the SI as unreasonably bad at things to the detriment of the story.
So far, these reactions are described such that i can imagine an actually real person who exists there and is tough would act like that, whilst interspersed between moments of grit and tenacity which show that the SI is far from incompetent.
- Location
- United Kingdom
I'm making no such assumption, I'm simply noting common tropes. None of my remarks have been judgements of quality, I'm drawing distinctions between two separate cases which are often the case. Indeed, you're the one who's placed statements of objective or subjective quality with that which I've described, which says more about what you think of the tropes than what I do.
09: In Trouble
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
A/N: Wow, last chapter was over a month ago. Sorry for the delay, everyone. I have a million excuses, but none of them explain a delay this big.
Also, don't look up Command and Conquer in the news right now. Please.
- - -
I… may have made a mistake.
Her shoulders rose and fell in sudden, jerky motions, her breath hissing slightly as it's forced from pursed lips. A thin layer of grime was only apparent on her face from where tears had washed it away. Her hair was matted and glistening with sweat, occasional dark strands escaping her bonnet and falling down her face. Her eyes didn't deviate from mine, the laser-focused pupils daring me to retaliate.
I could tell she was pissed, if the lingering sting in my cheek wasn't enough of a hint.
Why wouldn't she be? At the very least she'd felt she'd been in lethal danger, and after my attempts to calm her down I'd almost casually dismissed the experience.
Still, I had a bit of a problem here. Slap or not, there's a good chance that, in a male-dominated society like the one I've probably woken up in, not doing something may undermine the authority I had with these people, which was something I desperately needed.
Plus, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little angry. Once again, I was getting hounded on for trying to help people. If everyone in this world was going to act this way, I might as well blast off and leave them to crystalize.
No. Anger wasn't useful to me at the moment, and after my performance with the bandits I shouldn't be concerned about being 'manly enough.'
Instead, I returned her gaze with the flattest expression I could muster.
"Did that make you feel better?"
My words hung in the air for precious seconds, before the woman finally gave a curt nod.
"Good." I responded, breaking her gaze and making my way to the Conyard's restroom. "Let's get your face cleaned up, alright? There's a lot of things I have to talk about, and not much time to do so."
Everyone else seemed to look up to the woman, and since there was no way they could trust me (I hadn't even given them my name yet, if they couldn't read the tag) washing them off would help uphold her image and would come across as a show a good faith.
That being said, I had made sure I kept my eye on the woman while making my way towards the restroom. She had a knife, after all, and this vest didn't cover nearly enough of me even if it was stab-proof.
"You're…" The woman behind me started, her sentence coming to an abrupt halt as the restroom lights activated. With some surprise, I'd discovered the restroom opted to dispense paper towels out of some unseen fabricator instead of using an air dryer. The woman's didn't start speaking again until I'd grabbed a fresh one and made my way towards the sink. "You're not angry?" The one I'd just grabbed froze, close enough to the faucet that it had automatically started.
"Not really." I admitted, now that the sting had faded, what's a slap compared to everything else that had happened today? I allowed my attention to slip from her long enough to wet the paper towel, before turning back to her. If the plumbing had shocked her, she didn't show it. "Anger isn't that useful, you know."
Judging by how her brow stitched, I knew I'd have to elaborate.
"Look. You get angry, you start to focus on what's making you angry instead of what you're doing. If my full concentration isn't on managing this…" I waved my left arm over the walls and equipment of the building. My right was idle at my hip, hovering near the insurance policy strapped to my thigh. "...I'm going to make mistakes. I don't have time for those just yet."
With that, I held the damp paper towel out to her. Her glare returned for a moment, but in a moment she'd taken it with both hands -the knife nowhere to be seen, thankfully- and started dabbing her face.
"Come on, then. I bet everyone else is worried." I turned from her, entering the hallway to the assembly bay. "I'll explain why I'm in such a hurry once everyone is… together…"
While I wouldn't say I was scatterbrained, the commotion at the entrance to the conyard thoroughly diverted my train of thought. When I had entered the building, I wasn't paying much heed to the assembly bay as it fabricated the first building module. I'd been too busy sprinting to really take in the scenery. Now?
It was… beautiful.
Awestruck, I could do little more than stand and stare as the footsteps behind me came to a similar stop. The skeleton of one of those universal containers sat in the center of the room, half-filled with the folded-up forms of robotic arms and what I assumed to be the excavation drones. Half a dozen of the ceiling's manipulators were active, while the wall of machinery hummed contentedly. The image of some gigantic spider working with an erector set flashed into my mind as I watched the array of arms carefully grabbing materials sliding out of the fabricators and assembling them into the form of a drone. With almost a reverence, the arm that ended up holding the completed machine slid it snugly alongside it's comrades.
It was as if a 3D printer, forge, drydock, and an assembly line were all masterfully grafted into a single machine, some avatar of industrial progress. There were just so many things happening at once. Metal plates slid out of rollers, pre-cut into their proper shape. Circuitry and servos appeared from smaller assemblers, rapidly disappearing into their places as power drills roared. The majority of visible machinery was inactive, yet the entire building seemed to be pulsing with motion. I felt I could stare, mesmerized, for hours. Obviously I didn't have time for that, but it was a welcome break and reminder. Tiberium was an absolute bitch to deal with, but if anything could do the job, the conyard tech I'd woken up with could. A TCN node wouldn't help me against the bandits, after all.
I didn't tear my eyes away from the commission until the ark of a welder suddenly bathed the room in light and I found myself blinking away the afterimage. It wasn't safe here, and the last thing I needed was arc eye. I had more work to do, anyways, such as enacting my plan for the peasants. Alone, I could work myself to death and still fall behind the red zone's growth, which had already covered a lot of ground and had a lot of weird transmission vectors. With a few hired hands, though, I could at least establish a safe area for long enough to bring in more native help, eventually training enough people in the basics that I could establish workable perimeter around the Red Zone and call it a day. I didn't expect for a moment any sort of competence, but in this case bad help was better than no help. Of course, all those workers needed a guard...
I'm getting ahead of myself. Getting useful help would be monumental enough, let alone enough useful help. Focusing on after that would just cause more stress.
Speaking of stress, wasn't I forgetting something?
While the lack of footsteps behind me could have been attributed to her soft-soled shoes and the ruckus generated by the Conyard, I had other suspicions. Sure enough, the woman (I'd needed to ask for her name again, soon) had remained on the walkway, her hands white on the railing as she stared into the assembly bay. Could I blame her?
She seemed to get over it when I broke her line of sight, however, jumping back from my hand as I waved it between her and the array of machines. The pair of eyes locked onto mine, and I tried to suppress the stress and panic that had been following me the entire day. She needed to know this was normal. Safe.
"It's… overwhelming, isn't it?"
A wordless nod.
"I…" What could I say? Considering her position… at least I knew what to call everything I was running into. "I understand. Look, everyone outside's probably waiting for us."
I don't know if she held my gaze for one second or five. Was that fear in her expression? Terror? Confusion? Or was there something better there. Maybe not hope, but acceptance? I'm not good with faces under the best of circumstances.
"Yes."
I can work with that.
"Alright, then." Forcing a smile, I turn and resume my treck out of the conyard, peasant woman in tow.
- - -
By the time we were halfway towards the commoner's wagon, the terrified girl I'd seen on the walkway had once again disappeared, and the headstrong force who'd slapped me had returned. Instead of trailing behind me like a terrified puppy, she'd matched my pace, despite her poor shoes.
We would reach the group at the same time… and then what? My admittedly poor stress-mitigation technique of only dealing with problems when they arose was coming back to bite me. I wanted to explain what tiberium was, but without good visual aid and a way to patch the drone's feed from the red zone it would probably come off as too fantastic. I don't think their leader would be much inclined to enter the Construction Yard again, but without it I'd have to wait for the barracks before I could get a proper presentation going. On that note, I wasn't going to start building the barracks without some sort of fair warning, but any delay on getting infrastructure set up could result in it being overrun.
The 'Snake Lord's Tribute' had mostly disembarked. The supplies that had previously been lashed behind the seats were open and spread across the trampled-flat grass, some of the woman sorting through their late captor's supplies. The grass obscured the majority of their bounty, although a decent area around the cart had been trampled flat by the children's playing. A few other women looked after them as they darted through the tall grass, waist-high for the majority of them. If they were my children I'd be concerned for snakes, but I didn't have any experience parenting, so they probably knew better.
The majority of the prisoners had noticed us, it seemed, and were currently standing in a rough line, alternating between staring at us and leaning into each other for hushed conversation. One had broken away from the group, approaching us at almost a run. Her hair was darker from the leader's, while her clothing was considerably brighter. That made the grass and mud stains significantly more visible, but fashion wasn't anyone's priority at the moment.
"Alessia!" her shout came a moment before the two collided in a hug, almost sending the pair toppling among the grass. "You took so long… we were about to flee!"
They were 'about to flee?' Was the peasant woman- Alessia, I mentally correct- serving as a scout for them?
"Ruth!" Alessia's shoulders relaxed in the embrace. "I never dreamed I'd be so glad to see you! I thought this day would be my last!"
Not how I would speak in a joyous reunion, but the other woman, 'Ruth,' didn't seem perturbed by Alessia's strange wording.
"What happened in there?" Ruth broke the hug, holding Alessia out at arms length. Her eyes visibility scanned her companion, lingering on the various sweat stains and wrinkles left from when she'd been hiding. My spine stiffened in apprehension. There… weren't many good answers there.
"It-" Her voice cut off for a moment, and I tensed. She was still angry with or afraid of me, perhaps both. There was a good chance she could poison the water between the rest of the peasants and I, but what could I do to stop it?
"It was confusing."
She stopped, taking a step away from Ruth to face me. Her face was relaxed, but her gaze was once boring into me.
Before, that glare was an accusation. Now? An order. Despite my technological prowess, efficient weapon, physical advantage, cultural standing, and authoritative uniform, Alessia had the trust of the peasants, and thus the real power here. I could draw my pistol and seize it, sure, but if anything is worse at operating heavy machinery than medieval peasants, it's terrorized medieval peasants. That limited my options somewhat. I still had options, though, like the one she was giving me.
"Alright." I returned her gaze with one of my own. By now, the redness from the slap must have dissipated, and between my stature and the ballistic vest I cut an intimidating figure. "I want to speak to everyone at once. I don't have time for repetition."
A chance should be all I need.
Also, don't look up Command and Conquer in the news right now. Please.
- - -
I… may have made a mistake.
Her shoulders rose and fell in sudden, jerky motions, her breath hissing slightly as it's forced from pursed lips. A thin layer of grime was only apparent on her face from where tears had washed it away. Her hair was matted and glistening with sweat, occasional dark strands escaping her bonnet and falling down her face. Her eyes didn't deviate from mine, the laser-focused pupils daring me to retaliate.
I could tell she was pissed, if the lingering sting in my cheek wasn't enough of a hint.
Why wouldn't she be? At the very least she'd felt she'd been in lethal danger, and after my attempts to calm her down I'd almost casually dismissed the experience.
Still, I had a bit of a problem here. Slap or not, there's a good chance that, in a male-dominated society like the one I've probably woken up in, not doing something may undermine the authority I had with these people, which was something I desperately needed.
Plus, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little angry. Once again, I was getting hounded on for trying to help people. If everyone in this world was going to act this way, I might as well blast off and leave them to crystalize.
No. Anger wasn't useful to me at the moment, and after my performance with the bandits I shouldn't be concerned about being 'manly enough.'
Instead, I returned her gaze with the flattest expression I could muster.
"Did that make you feel better?"
My words hung in the air for precious seconds, before the woman finally gave a curt nod.
"Good." I responded, breaking her gaze and making my way to the Conyard's restroom. "Let's get your face cleaned up, alright? There's a lot of things I have to talk about, and not much time to do so."
Everyone else seemed to look up to the woman, and since there was no way they could trust me (I hadn't even given them my name yet, if they couldn't read the tag) washing them off would help uphold her image and would come across as a show a good faith.
That being said, I had made sure I kept my eye on the woman while making my way towards the restroom. She had a knife, after all, and this vest didn't cover nearly enough of me even if it was stab-proof.
"You're…" The woman behind me started, her sentence coming to an abrupt halt as the restroom lights activated. With some surprise, I'd discovered the restroom opted to dispense paper towels out of some unseen fabricator instead of using an air dryer. The woman's didn't start speaking again until I'd grabbed a fresh one and made my way towards the sink. "You're not angry?" The one I'd just grabbed froze, close enough to the faucet that it had automatically started.
"Not really." I admitted, now that the sting had faded, what's a slap compared to everything else that had happened today? I allowed my attention to slip from her long enough to wet the paper towel, before turning back to her. If the plumbing had shocked her, she didn't show it. "Anger isn't that useful, you know."
Judging by how her brow stitched, I knew I'd have to elaborate.
"Look. You get angry, you start to focus on what's making you angry instead of what you're doing. If my full concentration isn't on managing this…" I waved my left arm over the walls and equipment of the building. My right was idle at my hip, hovering near the insurance policy strapped to my thigh. "...I'm going to make mistakes. I don't have time for those just yet."
With that, I held the damp paper towel out to her. Her glare returned for a moment, but in a moment she'd taken it with both hands -the knife nowhere to be seen, thankfully- and started dabbing her face.
"Come on, then. I bet everyone else is worried." I turned from her, entering the hallway to the assembly bay. "I'll explain why I'm in such a hurry once everyone is… together…"
While I wouldn't say I was scatterbrained, the commotion at the entrance to the conyard thoroughly diverted my train of thought. When I had entered the building, I wasn't paying much heed to the assembly bay as it fabricated the first building module. I'd been too busy sprinting to really take in the scenery. Now?
It was… beautiful.
Awestruck, I could do little more than stand and stare as the footsteps behind me came to a similar stop. The skeleton of one of those universal containers sat in the center of the room, half-filled with the folded-up forms of robotic arms and what I assumed to be the excavation drones. Half a dozen of the ceiling's manipulators were active, while the wall of machinery hummed contentedly. The image of some gigantic spider working with an erector set flashed into my mind as I watched the array of arms carefully grabbing materials sliding out of the fabricators and assembling them into the form of a drone. With almost a reverence, the arm that ended up holding the completed machine slid it snugly alongside it's comrades.
It was as if a 3D printer, forge, drydock, and an assembly line were all masterfully grafted into a single machine, some avatar of industrial progress. There were just so many things happening at once. Metal plates slid out of rollers, pre-cut into their proper shape. Circuitry and servos appeared from smaller assemblers, rapidly disappearing into their places as power drills roared. The majority of visible machinery was inactive, yet the entire building seemed to be pulsing with motion. I felt I could stare, mesmerized, for hours. Obviously I didn't have time for that, but it was a welcome break and reminder. Tiberium was an absolute bitch to deal with, but if anything could do the job, the conyard tech I'd woken up with could. A TCN node wouldn't help me against the bandits, after all.
I didn't tear my eyes away from the commission until the ark of a welder suddenly bathed the room in light and I found myself blinking away the afterimage. It wasn't safe here, and the last thing I needed was arc eye. I had more work to do, anyways, such as enacting my plan for the peasants. Alone, I could work myself to death and still fall behind the red zone's growth, which had already covered a lot of ground and had a lot of weird transmission vectors. With a few hired hands, though, I could at least establish a safe area for long enough to bring in more native help, eventually training enough people in the basics that I could establish workable perimeter around the Red Zone and call it a day. I didn't expect for a moment any sort of competence, but in this case bad help was better than no help. Of course, all those workers needed a guard...
I'm getting ahead of myself. Getting useful help would be monumental enough, let alone enough useful help. Focusing on after that would just cause more stress.
Speaking of stress, wasn't I forgetting something?
While the lack of footsteps behind me could have been attributed to her soft-soled shoes and the ruckus generated by the Conyard, I had other suspicions. Sure enough, the woman (I'd needed to ask for her name again, soon) had remained on the walkway, her hands white on the railing as she stared into the assembly bay. Could I blame her?
She seemed to get over it when I broke her line of sight, however, jumping back from my hand as I waved it between her and the array of machines. The pair of eyes locked onto mine, and I tried to suppress the stress and panic that had been following me the entire day. She needed to know this was normal. Safe.
"It's… overwhelming, isn't it?"
A wordless nod.
"I…" What could I say? Considering her position… at least I knew what to call everything I was running into. "I understand. Look, everyone outside's probably waiting for us."
I don't know if she held my gaze for one second or five. Was that fear in her expression? Terror? Confusion? Or was there something better there. Maybe not hope, but acceptance? I'm not good with faces under the best of circumstances.
"Yes."
I can work with that.
"Alright, then." Forcing a smile, I turn and resume my treck out of the conyard, peasant woman in tow.
- - -
By the time we were halfway towards the commoner's wagon, the terrified girl I'd seen on the walkway had once again disappeared, and the headstrong force who'd slapped me had returned. Instead of trailing behind me like a terrified puppy, she'd matched my pace, despite her poor shoes.
We would reach the group at the same time… and then what? My admittedly poor stress-mitigation technique of only dealing with problems when they arose was coming back to bite me. I wanted to explain what tiberium was, but without good visual aid and a way to patch the drone's feed from the red zone it would probably come off as too fantastic. I don't think their leader would be much inclined to enter the Construction Yard again, but without it I'd have to wait for the barracks before I could get a proper presentation going. On that note, I wasn't going to start building the barracks without some sort of fair warning, but any delay on getting infrastructure set up could result in it being overrun.
The 'Snake Lord's Tribute' had mostly disembarked. The supplies that had previously been lashed behind the seats were open and spread across the trampled-flat grass, some of the woman sorting through their late captor's supplies. The grass obscured the majority of their bounty, although a decent area around the cart had been trampled flat by the children's playing. A few other women looked after them as they darted through the tall grass, waist-high for the majority of them. If they were my children I'd be concerned for snakes, but I didn't have any experience parenting, so they probably knew better.
The majority of the prisoners had noticed us, it seemed, and were currently standing in a rough line, alternating between staring at us and leaning into each other for hushed conversation. One had broken away from the group, approaching us at almost a run. Her hair was darker from the leader's, while her clothing was considerably brighter. That made the grass and mud stains significantly more visible, but fashion wasn't anyone's priority at the moment.
"Alessia!" her shout came a moment before the two collided in a hug, almost sending the pair toppling among the grass. "You took so long… we were about to flee!"
They were 'about to flee?' Was the peasant woman- Alessia, I mentally correct- serving as a scout for them?
"Ruth!" Alessia's shoulders relaxed in the embrace. "I never dreamed I'd be so glad to see you! I thought this day would be my last!"
Not how I would speak in a joyous reunion, but the other woman, 'Ruth,' didn't seem perturbed by Alessia's strange wording.
"What happened in there?" Ruth broke the hug, holding Alessia out at arms length. Her eyes visibility scanned her companion, lingering on the various sweat stains and wrinkles left from when she'd been hiding. My spine stiffened in apprehension. There… weren't many good answers there.
"It-" Her voice cut off for a moment, and I tensed. She was still angry with or afraid of me, perhaps both. There was a good chance she could poison the water between the rest of the peasants and I, but what could I do to stop it?
"It was confusing."
She stopped, taking a step away from Ruth to face me. Her face was relaxed, but her gaze was once boring into me.
Before, that glare was an accusation. Now? An order. Despite my technological prowess, efficient weapon, physical advantage, cultural standing, and authoritative uniform, Alessia had the trust of the peasants, and thus the real power here. I could draw my pistol and seize it, sure, but if anything is worse at operating heavy machinery than medieval peasants, it's terrorized medieval peasants. That limited my options somewhat. I still had options, though, like the one she was giving me.
"Alright." I returned her gaze with one of my own. By now, the redness from the slap must have dissipated, and between my stature and the ballistic vest I cut an intimidating figure. "I want to speak to everyone at once. I don't have time for repetition."
A chance should be all I need.
Eh. Just go back to Generals and get a mod. If you haven't already, try Rise of the Reds first.