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Archive for the tag “caboose”

Attention to Detail – Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It had been a long time since Church possessed a live person with their required breathing and uncoordinated appendages. He immediately lost his balance and fell into a very well endowed woman standing next to him. Unfortunately, his hands landed on those endowments.

“Hey,” she squealed, getting the attention of her hulking giant of a boyfriend.

Before Church could attempt an apology, a fist was in his face, knocking him flat on his ass.

“Son of a bitch,” he yelled, grabbing his nose.

“Next time, keep your hands to yourself, asshole.” The brute gave him a kick in the side for good measure before the couple stomped off.

Caboose came running over. “Church? Church is that you?”

Church groaned and staggered to his feet. “Yeah, it’s me.” He carefully pulled his hands from his face, expecting a gush of blood, but there was only a trickle from one side. He wiped it away with the back of his hand then squeezed the bridge of his sore nose. Nothing felt broken at least. He had forgotten what this kind of pain felt like.

“Are you okay, Church?”

He finally noticed the worried expression on his friend’s way-too-young-to-be-caught-up-in-this-crap face for the first time. He sniffed until his nose cleared some then patted Caboose’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine. This guy’s going to have some serious shiners in the morning, though. Come on, let’s go find the others.” Read more…

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Red vs Blue fic: Attention to Detail

After their last Eleventh Hour Hail Mary mission, Grif had plopped down right among the dying enemy soldiers and said he wasn’t moving until he got some leave. He wouldn’t even budge for Sarge’s shotgun.

“We’ve saved the galaxy enough times. I think we deserve a vacation.”

No one could come up with a logical rebuttal for that so they headed to the nearest resort planet.

OR

Epsilon and the gang take a vacation, and it goes about as well as you’d expect.

rating: R for language 


attention (n): consideration, notice, or observation | detail (n): a part considered or requiring to be considered separately from the whole

Chapter 1

“Blackwater is a neutral planet,” Simmons read from an advertisement as they skimmed over a midnight ocean, heading to the biggest space dock on the southern continent—a tourist hot-spot apparently. He continued to read off a long list of rules and regulations for visiting Blackwater while Church and Caboose watched their clunky approach out a side window.

“Why do you think they call it Blackwater?” Caboose asked, thoughtfully. “Do you think it’s because the water is black? Or do you think the water is black because the planet is called Blackwater?”

“That doesn’t even make sense, dumbass,” Tucker said from Caboose’s other side. “Why would the water change color to black just because the name of the planet has ‘black’ in it?”

Church reached around behind Caboose and smacked Tucker upside the head.

“According to the brochure,” said Wash, strolling over to join them (or maybe just trying to be closer to the emergency exit as they neared the dock), “the water on this planet appears black on the surface because of a mineral in the soil.”

Caboose mulled this over for a moment. “Neat.”

They bumped and bobbled along as Grif struggled to maintain altitude and pitch on his first landing approach. It usually took two or three tries if they didn’t want to crash and burn on impact, but they glided in, only slamming slightly into the docking bay before easily coming to a stop on the first attempt.

“Ha!” Grif shouted from the cockpit. “Nailed it.” Read more…

Red vs Blue fic: Nightlight

rvb_nightlight

561 words | [G]
There are still a lot Wash has to learn about the inner workings of Blue base now that Epsilon is gone. Like Caboose’s sleeping habits.


The knock on the door is light. For a moment, Wash isn’t sure he heard anything, but there it is again. A soft tap, tap, tap. He rolls over, checking the time on his computer terminal. 0124.

“This better be important,” he grumbles, hauling himself out of bed. “I was sleeping good. Sort of.”

He’s ready to dress-down the idiot waking him up, but it’s Caboose standing there, shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with the edge of his t-shirt.

“Caboose?”

“Oh, hey, Agent Washington. Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, you did. It’s one-thirty in the morning, Caboose. What’s wrong?”

“Oh.” He pulls on the hem so hard it tears. His shoulders slump. “I was just kind of having a problem.”

Wash’s brain is still fuzzy from sleep, and he really doesn’t feel like dealing with Caboose tonight, but he pulls in all his frustration. “What kind of problem?” Read more…

Red Vs. Blue fic: Rockets Red Glare

If you have a cracked sense of humor and you’ve never watched the webshow, Red Vs. Blue, you are missing out on some ridiculous laughs. Their episodes are on YouTube, but the six-minute episodes are combined into two-hour seasons on Netflix–thirteen of them. It starts out slow, but later seasons actually work around some major story arcs. For something that started so silly, this show actually made me cry. The animation–created from the Halo games–improves drastically over the course of the series, so don’t let that turn you off. Just be aware that the language and many of the jokes are crude. The show is hilarious, though. I’ve watched through it two or three times already.


rvb_rocketsredglare.jpg

The one where the DVD collection is a mess and Caboose thinks it’s the 4th of July.
WARNING: language
639 words | rating: R


“No, no. Those go there and these go here,” shouted Church.

“But I thought we were going to put these there,” said Tucker.

Church growled. “Now why the hell would we do that?”

“I don’t know it just makes sense.”

“In what world does putting these over there make sense?”

Tucker shrugged, stepping out of the way as Caboose ran through the room. “Because they’re all red. And those are blue. And these are green.”

“WHAT? You organized them by color?”

“Yeah, of course.” Tucker looked up at Church. “Why? How do you organize them?”

Church fought the urge to throttle Tucker. “Oh, I don’t know—how about in alphabetical order!”

“Geesh, calm down, man. It’s just a stupid DVD collection for Christ’s sake.”

Tucker started sorting the DVDs again as Caboose ran past in the other direction. Church watched over his shoulder to make sure he did it right this time.

“F comes before G, dipshit.”

“Whatever,” Tucker muttered, and when Church turned to watch Caboose skip through the room, he tossed the copy of Four Weddings and a Funeral into the trash. “There,” he said a minute later.

Church checked the shelves. “Do you even know what alphabetical means?”

“Hey, fuck you. You know how hard it is to do anything with you breathing down my neck.”

“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,” yelled Caboose as he bounded back through the room with a sparkler in each hand.

“And what the fuck is with Caboose?”

Church started rearranging the DVDs. “I don’t know. I find it easier to just ignore him.”

“Yeah, but that’s when he gets in the most trouble.”

Church glanced at Tucker for a moment. “Good point.”

The two followed the sound of Caboose’s laughter to the roof of the base. Caboose had sparklers taped to every surface while he wrote his name in the air with the ones in his hands.

“Caboose,” Church shouted. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the Fourth of July!”

“No, it’s not,” said Tucker. “Actually, I think it’s November.”

Caboose danced around them as the sparklers petered out. “Oh, yeah. If it’s not the Fourth of July, then how come the Reds are having a fireworks display? Huh?”

“What?” Church and Tucker said at the same time.

As if on cue, there was a bang from the Red base across the canyon. Sparks flew into the sky.

“See, fireworks. That means it’s the Fourth of July.”

“All that means,” said Tucker, “is that you’re an idiot. They could be shooting fireworks off for any reason.”

“Uh-” said Church.

“It could be someone’s birthday. It could be someone’s anniversary. It could be they had extra gunpowder lying around-”

“Guys-”

“It could be they just like pretty, sparkly things like you, dumbass. Hell, it could mean the Cubs finally won the World Series after five hundred years. Who the fuck knows.”

Church backed away. “I don’t think those are fireworks.”

“What?” Tucker turned to look where Church was staring. “Oh shit, man. Run.”

Caboose squealed. “Look they’re shooting them our way so we can join in the fun. Happy Fourth of July to you too, Reds.”

“Caboose,” Church yelled, “those aren’t fireworks. They’re rockets.”

“And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,” sang Caboose, hand against his forehead in a salute.

“Caboose!”

Tucker leaped from the base, running for cover. Church dove at Caboose, tackling him over the side just as the rocket hit the roof. Chunks of concrete and red sparks rained down on them.

“So pretty,” cooed Caboose.

Church rolled onto his back, gasping for air. The sky was lit by the fire now consuming their base. It made the air waver, distorting the stars above. He let his head fall back with a long sigh. “You’re right, Caboose. It is pretty.”

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