Red Versus Blue (Writefag Romp) Day 1

>You take deep breath.
>You adjust your helmet, and bite your lip.
>Then you close the visor.
>You look down to your hands, which are armored to the very joint.
>The thin breast plate rings when you knock on it.
>Classic mix of ceramics and what people called ‘plastic’.
>But this was no usual bendy straws, no sirrie.
>It was tough enough to block a shot, but light enough for you to jump around.
>For one, you were no super soldier.
>You clutch onto your standard issue Twilight Firmware rifle, its purple surface reflecting the dim lights of the dropship.
>Pilot:”Touching down, ten minutes.”
>Anon1:”About fucking time.”
>He’s wearing the same standard issue armor, but he was holding a different rifle.
>A closer look reveals its origins.
>LunaCorp.
>He had the middle-range rifle, the most common of its kind.
>The rifle had a navy blue spray, small glitters dressing its sleek surface.
>On its body, you could notice the silver linings gilding it.
>Anon1:”The fuck you looking at?”
>You point at the gun.
”LunaCorp?”
>He smiles.
>A1:”Hell yeah.”
>Then you notice the blue cloth piece tied to his arm.
>Blue?
>You look at your own arm, and see the red sash.
>Different colors?
>P:”Anon, your stop is here.”
>The two of you stand.
“Me?”
>P:”The one with the blue cloth.”
>The door slides down, forming a ramp for the other soldier to jump out.
>He silently jumps out, only to be greeted by other soldiers like him.
>You swore you heard someone shout ‘party’.
>You clutch onto your rifle.
>It was a very simple design, only made for the sake of efficiency.
>It wasn’t exactly ugly, but skeletal.
>It only had armor on the important parts.
>That corporation really has a ‘No bullshit’ rule.
>At least this rifle let you watch the inner workings of the mechanism.
>P:”Your stop.”
>The ramp lowers, and you jump out.
>Then you hear a shot fired.
>Lulz:”Suck on that, fuckers!”
>The soldier laughs.
>???:”Ow!”
>A distant cry echoes the valley.
>He squints his eyes, and looks far off.
>Lulz:”SORRY!”
>He waves.
>You step out, as the ship leaves.
>The base was more of a bunker, few covers here and there.
>There was a hole right on top for anyone to jump in.
>The hole led to the base floor, and you could see the Red flag inside, waving about.
>How is that even possible?
>They don’t even-
>Lulz:”Hey!” Someone taps your back.
>From the shadows of his hood, you can’t make out any facial expressions.
>You’re guessing he’s happy.
>Lulz:”Sup?” he asks, holding out a hand.
>Why is he wearing a red bandana?
>Techy:”HEY!” Another sniper chimes in, tapping your other shoulder.
>What is this, hugbox?
>He’s holding a pure white rifle, embroidered with golden markings.
>EVERYWHERE.
>It was quite a beauty of a rifle, and it looked expensive as hell.
>Lulz:”Techy, is this the new recruit we’re getting today?”
>Techy:”Looks like it, Lulz, why don’t we ask the boss?”
>The duo leads the way, going down the ramp on the side of the base.
>This ‘Lulz’ guy is ignoring his helmet.
>He has the standard gas mask on, and only a hood.
>A GODDAMN HOOD
>How will he survive concussions to the head?
>He barely has armor.
>And with that bandana.
>He has a sniper rifle strapped to his back, looks like this is LunaCorp as well.
>At least Techy over here have some decency to wear a helmet.
>And then, you hear mad laughing.
>Another of them, you think.
>He’s holding a large flame-thrower, chasing a chicken.
>His dark armor has flames painted on it.
>Lulz:”That’s Rune.” One of the two points.
>’Rune’ kicks down the small animal, and unleashes hell.
>You hear the wheezing noise of fire going off, enveloping the chicken.
>He cackles, before examining his work.
>He then takes off his helmet, and takes a sip of water.
>Wait, that’s no water.
>That’s vodka.
>He then pours the rest of the content over the burning chicken, and goes in for round two.
>He then turns to you and smile, giving thumbs up.
>Rune:”Dinner is served.”
>Wuten:”GODDAMMIT, RUNE!”
>Another soldier comes out of the base.
>He’s holding a plate of pasta.
>Wuten:”How is *that* going to go with this?”
>He points at the carcass of the chicken.
>Rune simply shrugs.
>Rune:”I added alcohol to make it taste better.”
>Then the chicken let out a dying cock.
>Everyone jumps.
>Pretty much everyone:”HOLY SHIT KILL IT, KILL IT WITH FIRE”
>Rune grins and lets out another torrent of flames.
>The soldier then drops his pasta and runs to the chicken, and kicks it away.
>It flies to the background.
>Everyone wipes tears and salute the flying chicken.
>You are dumbstruck.
“What. The. FUUUUUUUUUU”

>Pale slapped his helmet.
>He even prepared a party and all.
>Not again, Gadget.
>Pale:“gajit, pls.”
>Gadget:”Fak you pell, I do what I want.”
>He then proceeded to flash the newbie.
>Not with his hairy man-nipples, but with his weapon.
>He had Magic-Trix’-magic weapon, which was more of an over-powered flashlight with tazers.
>Just like its creator, all show- no game.
>Then Gadget shot the tazer at the newbie.
>Pale:“Gadget, NO!”
>The new guy shook rapidly, before his muscles started to spasm.
>Pale also smelled urine and fecal matters.
>Bracing himself, he put on his helmet.
>He then poked the guy with a stick.
>Pale:“Buddy, you alright?”
>Overlord came along, cleaning his Apple-family shotgun.
>Overlord:”Hey guys, what do we- HOLY SHIT”
>Gadget flashed the guy one more time.
>Pale slapped Gadget’s helmet, and poked him again.
>Overlord:”What the hell is that?”
>Overlord aimed his weapon at the twitching mess of a human.
>The three stared the guy down.
>Overlord:”Why did he lose his shit?”
>Pale:“Who, Gadget, or the newbie?”
>Overlord:”Both.”
>Then the guy gurgled, and moved his arm.
>The three screamed in unison, and jumped backwards.
>Overlord fired his weapon to the guy, in shock.
>Gadget:”That was a fucking zombie!”
>Pale:“What.”
>Overlord:”DIE ZOMBIE.”
>Overlord fired more shots to the dead man.
>Pale sighed.
>Why couldn’t he have picked the Red team?
>He drags the body to the massive pile far away.
>He then takes out a list and crosses a name.
>That was the fifth this week.
>This just can’t get any-
>He felt a sharp pain on his leg.
>Lulz:”Suck on that, fuckers!”
>Pale:“Ow!”
>He clutches his leg.

>Lulz:”SORRY.”
>Damn those Reds.

>Somewhere in the base, Scooter wakes up in sweat.
>He rubs his temples, and stares at his gloves.
>Another chicken…
>He grabbed his weapon, a looked it over.
>No, it wasn’t a chicken.
>The orange rifle was pretty much standard design, expect it had a tube where people could feed items and fire it.
>Yes, it was a gimmick.
>The tube wasn’t even big, it could only fit an-
>Egg.
>That’s where the joke came along.
>It was, in all actualities, Twilight’s rifle, just repainted, and given a useless addition.
>Brainhorn was already up, putting on the armor.
>Brainhorn:”Another one, Scoots?”
>Scooter:”Y-yeah.”
>Brainhorn:”I don’t even-“
>A charred carcass of a chicken flies through the hold on the ceiling, lands on Scooter’s lap.
>Scooter jumps and screams like a girl.
>Brainhorn turns around, and screams too.

>Scooter:”God, this is good.”
>Scooter bites into the leg.
>Brainhorn:”It’s well done, no blood at all.”
>Brainhorn takes a bite.

~Day 1