Rather important little note: This fic is not a fic at all. It is a conglomeration of small drabbles, pieces of stories that do not belong in any fic. These were all challenges, where a phrase and the word count were given to me, and I wrote something in response to the challenge. I like some of them, so I'm posting them here, in this story thing. New drabbles go into new chapters. None of them go together. They're just here.
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Challenge #2
Phrase: "Try to learn some patience. It'll do you good."
Word Count: 722
Rating: PG
Title: Friendly Advice
Author: Rydia Highwind
Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 2 and all characters refered to herein belong to Konami. I claim nothing, I'm simply borrowing.
Summary: Otacon and Snake on a random mission somewhere between Shadow Moses and the Big Shell.
Warning: Um. I...like cheese. XD
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The computer display was glowing a weak green color in the dim light, purposely on the lowest setting since it was drawing power from a car battery, a battery that was also serving to start the van of the 'get away' vehicle if such a thing was needed. The back of this van saw several different monitors hooked up, all displaying different information, and behind the quiet hum of the computers working to display such things was the thrum of the alternator trying to keep the battery charged.
Amid all the monitors and computers and such stuff was an old beat up desk chair that appeared to be on its last leg of life, held together in some places with duct tape and super glue. And in the chair sat a fairly normal looking guy, tapping quietly at a keyboard, and peering at the various screens through a pair of glasses. Of course, the situation elicited the fact that appearances can be deceiving. The van was now a converted super computer on wheels, and the man, a Dr. Hal Emmerich, codename Otacon, was the one who had built was running that computer. Specifically, he was monitoring a factory down the road that wasn't exactly what it seemed to be either. Or even more specifically, he was monitoring someone inside that factory.
One monitor displayed what appeared to be an outline of a man, exhibited various vital signs and an inventory display. Another showed a simplex map of the compound, complete with a small green arrow darting in an out of boxes representing rooms. Yet another, and the one the man was currently the most focused upon, seemed to be a live feed from somewhere, most likely the factory's main computer system, and Otacon, also a master hacker, was actively hacking deeper into it.
There was a subtle ringing noise in his ear, inaudible to anyone but him, and he turned a quick glance back at the first display, eyeing the inventory and raising one eyebrow as he took in the information showing up there. He raised his right hand and tapped his upper jawbone just behind his ear, switching on yet another tiny monitor, this one displaying directly on his retinas, a tiny flash of green at the lower part of his field of vision. On one side showed a mental projection of his face, and on the other, a projection of someone else's face, split by the number 141.80, the frequency of the man calling him. Simply put, his partner, Solid Snake, inside the building was calling him via codec.
"Do you read me, Otacon?" asked the representation on the monitor. Otacon threw a glance at the second monitor, the one with the radar, to track his partner's position before responding.
The nanomachines could link up with the codec, both internal devices, and portray a visual representation of the person speaking, displaying emotions and a mouth that moved as one spoke. Otacon had once figured out how to manipulate his avatar and had called Snake with rabbit ears once. Though Snake hadn't been real impressed.
"Loud and clear, Snake," he replied into the tiny microphone built into the codec he was wearing. "What's your situation? And where on earth did you get that RGB6?"
A pause. "The armory." Snake gave him a look that clearly read, 'Duh.'
Of course, the armory that was probably incredibly well guarded and posed a severe health risk to any intruder, such as Snake, wanting to get in. Otacon made a mental note to keep a better eye on the radar from now on. "Right. And tell me, why exactly do you need a grenade launcher?" He allowed for just the right amount of dryness to enter his tone.
"The room that leads to the basement stairwell is just beyond what looks like a break room," Snake replied with a particularly mischievous expression. "There's about seven or eight guards in there; the RGB6 is probably the fastest way to get rid of them."
"And to let the entire complex know you're here," Otacon reminded him, his voice a gentle reprimand. "Try to learn some patience. It'll do you good."
"Is that one of your 'inspirational' proverbs?"
"No, it's my own personal advice."
Snake's visage held a smirk. "Huh. Then I'll be sure not to listen."
"Snake!!"
--
Challenge #2
Phrase: "Try to learn some patience. It'll do you good."
Word Count: 722
Rating: PG
Title: Friendly Advice
Author: Rydia Highwind
Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 2 and all characters refered to herein belong to Konami. I claim nothing, I'm simply borrowing.
Summary: Otacon and Snake on a random mission somewhere between Shadow Moses and the Big Shell.
Warning: Um. I...like cheese. XD
--
The computer display was glowing a weak green color in the dim light, purposely on the lowest setting since it was drawing power from a car battery, a battery that was also serving to start the van of the 'get away' vehicle if such a thing was needed. The back of this van saw several different monitors hooked up, all displaying different information, and behind the quiet hum of the computers working to display such things was the thrum of the alternator trying to keep the battery charged.
Amid all the monitors and computers and such stuff was an old beat up desk chair that appeared to be on its last leg of life, held together in some places with duct tape and super glue. And in the chair sat a fairly normal looking guy, tapping quietly at a keyboard, and peering at the various screens through a pair of glasses. Of course, the situation elicited the fact that appearances can be deceiving. The van was now a converted super computer on wheels, and the man, a Dr. Hal Emmerich, codename Otacon, was the one who had built was running that computer. Specifically, he was monitoring a factory down the road that wasn't exactly what it seemed to be either. Or even more specifically, he was monitoring someone inside that factory.
One monitor displayed what appeared to be an outline of a man, exhibited various vital signs and an inventory display. Another showed a simplex map of the compound, complete with a small green arrow darting in an out of boxes representing rooms. Yet another, and the one the man was currently the most focused upon, seemed to be a live feed from somewhere, most likely the factory's main computer system, and Otacon, also a master hacker, was actively hacking deeper into it.
There was a subtle ringing noise in his ear, inaudible to anyone but him, and he turned a quick glance back at the first display, eyeing the inventory and raising one eyebrow as he took in the information showing up there. He raised his right hand and tapped his upper jawbone just behind his ear, switching on yet another tiny monitor, this one displaying directly on his retinas, a tiny flash of green at the lower part of his field of vision. On one side showed a mental projection of his face, and on the other, a projection of someone else's face, split by the number 141.80, the frequency of the man calling him. Simply put, his partner, Solid Snake, inside the building was calling him via codec.
"Do you read me, Otacon?" asked the representation on the monitor. Otacon threw a glance at the second monitor, the one with the radar, to track his partner's position before responding.
The nanomachines could link up with the codec, both internal devices, and portray a visual representation of the person speaking, displaying emotions and a mouth that moved as one spoke. Otacon had once figured out how to manipulate his avatar and had called Snake with rabbit ears once. Though Snake hadn't been real impressed.
"Loud and clear, Snake," he replied into the tiny microphone built into the codec he was wearing. "What's your situation? And where on earth did you get that RGB6?"
A pause. "The armory." Snake gave him a look that clearly read, 'Duh.'
Of course, the armory that was probably incredibly well guarded and posed a severe health risk to any intruder, such as Snake, wanting to get in. Otacon made a mental note to keep a better eye on the radar from now on. "Right. And tell me, why exactly do you need a grenade launcher?" He allowed for just the right amount of dryness to enter his tone.
"The room that leads to the basement stairwell is just beyond what looks like a break room," Snake replied with a particularly mischievous expression. "There's about seven or eight guards in there; the RGB6 is probably the fastest way to get rid of them."
"And to let the entire complex know you're here," Otacon reminded him, his voice a gentle reprimand. "Try to learn some patience. It'll do you good."
"Is that one of your 'inspirational' proverbs?"
"No, it's my own personal advice."
Snake's visage held a smirk. "Huh. Then I'll be sure not to listen."
"Snake!!"