acts_of_gord | (no subject)

This place is not the first patch of Polish earth that has seen this many deaths. But the others were done by humans, and were driven by human hatred. The Combine have no such drive spurring them onward; quite simply, they do not care who learns about this place, or about what they've done here, only that the job of making this world their own gets done with as little interference from the local population as possible.

So there is nothing deliberately intimidating or sinister about the complex of plastic and steel and energy fields surrounding the European geneworm's spire. It's just one more blotch of alien architecture designed for funneling fuel into the alien monster's mouth, for inhaling everything Earth has to give and expelling the winds of an alien dimension in its stead. It could be anywhere. It has been anywhere, as ruins in North Dakota and Chapada dos Guimarães and Uluṟu-Kata Tjuṯa National Park and the forests of central Africa will attest.

But it still seems oddly appropriate, to Gordon, anyway, for the tiny scrambling band of humans to be flinging everything they have with all their might at a foe this far advanced here, of all countries. Maybe it's not mustering the cavalry for one screaming ride of explosive defiance straight into the teeth of the invading tanks, but... well, the battle here feels like something he thinks those men would approve of, even if it is only a distraction to allow their vermifuge-laden Combine scanner to slip through and poison the monster at the heart of it all.

He's pretty sure he'll be deaf for a good several hours by the time it's all over. But he'll accept that. Some prices, you pay.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

smelltheashes

Of course, they're not quite in the complex. Not yet. They're skirting the edge of the dead zone in a stolen hunter-chopper piloted by the man claiming to be a Marine. (A Marine. Seriously. One who was at Black Mesa and somehow managed to survive. Jesus Christ, is everyone batshit insane back in the States?)

The man in the yellow suit sits grimly in the rear compartment with the other three members of the infiltration team. He's trying not to show that he's nervous, but in trying he's making it even more obvious to a discerning observer.

From:

hecu_marine

For what it's worth? The Marine is trying not to show that he's nervous, either. He just does it differently- singing under his breath. And just because he's nervous (flying is, after all, one of the three things in this world he fears) doesn't mean he isn't going to take the opportunity to mess with the head of someone he loathes....

"Do it if you dare
Leaping from the sky
Hurling through the air
Exhilarating high
See the earth below
Soon to make a crater
Blue sky, black death
I'm off to meet my maker..."

Screw Rule 35.

From:

smelltheashes

Yeahh, he's getting the hairy eyeball for that. Not just from the man in the yellow suit, either. Arnold the Medic is giving him a flat 'wtf?' look, while Prohaska is doing his best to pretend he doesn't hear it.

From:

acts_of_gord

"Shephard."

From:

hecu_marine

"Sorry 'bout that."

He doesn't sound sorry at all. But he does change his tune:

"By the last breath the fourth winds blow
Better raise your ears
The sound of hooves knock at your door
Lock up your wife and children now
It's time to wield the blade
For now you've got some company

The Horsemen are drawing nearer..."

That's encouraging, right? There's four people in the back of the chopper, right?

From:

smelltheashes

The man in the yellow suit certainly seems to think so. In fact, he actually starts nodding along a little.

From:

hecu_marine

"With the Four Horsemen ride
Or choose your fate and die

You have been dying since the day you were born
You know it's all been planned
The quartet of deliverance rides
A sinner once, a sinner twice
No need for confessions now
'Cause now you've got the fight of your life..."

He pauses, peering out the window.

"Comin' up on the drop zone. Git your asses good'n ready."

From:

smelltheashes

Prohaska nods resolutely and double-checks his AK-47. Arnold grips his pulse rifle a little tighter, but otherwise doesn't react. The man in the yellow suit looks expectantly at Gordon.

From:

acts_of_gord

Gordon's crowbar is secured, the Gravity Gun and shotgun are in place, and his helmet is latched on good and tight...

He looks to Arnold and Prohaska, and dips his head fractionally.

"Let's go."

From:

smelltheashes

The man in the yellow suit hefts his own crowbar and crouches before the bomb hatch in the floor of the compartment. He looks to their pilot, waiting for him to open the hatch and send them into the unknown.

From:

hecu_marine

"Crackin' now," comes Shephard's voice, and the hatch doors swing open.

Shephard does not normally take his eyes off the space in front of him when he flies this monstrosity, but for an occasion like today he is willing to make an exception. Just a tiny one.

Sir in the yellow suit, there is a Marine twisted around in the pilot's seat to face you, smiling the sunniest of publicist-friendly smiles and waving at you.

Oh, and his hand just dipped out of sight for long enough to retrieve his knife and use it to toss off a moment's salute in your general direction.

... he'll go back to the hovering now.

From:

smelltheashes

...

The man in the yellow suit will be getting out of the chopper very quickly now.

From:

acts_of_gord

"You're a bad man," says Gordon reprovingly to Shephard.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," says the unrepentant Marine. "Now git your ass movin'."

Gordon just shakes his head and makes his jump.

From:

smelltheashes

Followed shortly by Prohaska and Arnold.

They're close enough to the ground to avoid serious injury, but they still hit hard. They need a minute to recover before getting back to their feet again.

"Everybody okay?" murmurs Arnold as he levers himself upright.

From:

acts_of_gord

Gordon pushes himself up, pats himself down, and nods before looking to the other two. They seem all right; he can spare the moment to look around, assess the situation...

From:

smelltheashes

This spot was picked as the drop zone because it appeared to be deserted. As far as one can tell, it is. There's nothing here but loosely stacked freight containers, long since emptied and therefore not worth guarding. The man in the yellow suit is already crouched behind the furthest one, looking out toward the Gene Worm's complex.

From:

acts_of_gord

"Doesn't look too different from the last few," Gordon notes. "They'll probably have manhack or scanner patrols out this far. Won't be soldiers until we get further in, or until one of their sweeps spots us. We'd better start moving."

From:

smelltheashes

"Right." The man in the yellow suit nods and gestures toward each of them in turn. "You, on my right. You, on my left. You, cover the rear."

Lest they forget who's in charge here.

From:

acts_of_gord

Arnold rolls his eyes and looks to Gordon for approval before falling back to do so.

Gordon nods, tells himself that as soon as the scannerdrone reaches the Gene Worm they can all turn around and run like hell, and moves up with his shotgun at the ready.

From:

smelltheashes

"On three. One, two--"

And the man in the yellow suit takes off in a dead sprint toward the next piece of suitable cover.

From:

acts_of_gord

Well, he's got the right spirit, at least, even if this isn't how Gordon would necessarily handle things. Might as well keep up. They've got work to do, and that spire isn't getting any closer on its own.

He's still listening for the whine of incoming engines, or the roar of combat in the distance, of course.

From:

smelltheashes

He won't have to wait long. The familiar drone of manhacks is rapidly increasing in volume.

From:

acts_of_gord

Right. Gravity gun time.

Let's see our friend in the yellow suit handle this.

From:

smelltheashes

Said man swings his crowbar like a baseball bat, taking out a manhack with every swing. Whatever else you can say about him, the man has good aim.

...though he does get slightly distracted by the gravity gun.

From:

acts_of_gord

Gordon doesn't say anything at that. He's busy snatching the things out of midair and punting them into each other, or into the ground if he can't get a target fast enough. If there were something bigger around he'd be shooting whirling death into the middle of its center of mass, but for now- well, he's done this often enough that it's second nature by now.