GATE: Red vs Blue
Disclaimer: I don't own Red VS Blue or GATE
Regular Speak
Thoughts and Flashbacks
Demonic or Animalistic Speak
Demonic or Animalistic Thoughts
Beta: Dragon_Wizard91
Corralling the survivors hadn't been too hard, unsurprisingly. Even if they didn't understand what firearms were, waving what they knew to be a weapon at them and pointing in a direction was apparently the universal signal of-
"Get your asses moving before I barbeque them!" Church yelled, shooting a torrent of fire into the air, the failed-invaders scurrying over each other to get away from him.
"Hey! Hey!" Caboose reprimanded as he stood in front of an entrance to Red Base, pulling a soldier out of it, "No, these bases do not belong to you! They are for the Reds!...Church, are we getting a Spartan Base for our new friends?!" Caboose yelled curiously.
The soldier, afraid that his captors were yelling about what to do with him, bolted into the crowd and hoped they couldn't find him again.
"Fuck that! They're camping outside!" Church yelled back.
"You said I couldn't go on camping trips!" Caboose called in jealousy.
"Caboose, keep "helping" them or I take away your cuddle pipes!" Church warned.
"Cuddle pipes...I don't even want to know," Grif said with a sigh as he sat in the jeep, parked on the other side of the canyon to get away from...whatever was going on with Tucker.
"Hey."
The lazy red tilted his head as he turned to see York standing by the jeep with his machine gun in hand.
"You mind if I take a seat?" York asked politely.
Grif considered him for a moment, "You got a light?" he asked curiously.
York smirked beneath his helmet as he pulled out his Errera lighter, "You got the smokes?"
Grif returned the smirk as he reached under his seat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Hop in," Grif instructed while taking the lighter.
"Thanks. My feet and hands are killing me," York commented as he placed his gun on the floor of the jeep and got into the passenger seat. "So what was that about a guy being pregnant?"
"I have no idea. I didn't stick around for details," Grif answered casually as he blew smoke out of his helmet and handed the lighter back.
"...Okay, how the fuck?" York asked in shock.
"What's your problem?" Grif asked with a head tilt.
"I believe York's remark was aimed at how your helmet allows you to make use of your tobacco product without needing to remove it," Delta explained, appearing on the dashboard.
Grif just stared at the AI for five seconds before turning to York. "If he turns out to be a psycho like Omega, I'm running you over," Grif informed flatly.
"Right," York acknowledged uneasily. "Don't worry; Delta's the brains of the family, not the rage."
"Not sure if that should comfort me or not," Grif muttered to himself. "As for the helmet, I just had to tinker with the filter system a bit. Being me on my team means I don't go asking Sarge or Simmons to mess around with my armor."
"Why?" York asked curiously.
"Would that not interfere with the helmets life support features and other functions?" Delta questioned.
"Do I look like I give a fuck?" Grif countered to the tiny glowing humanoid. "As for why? Because knowing Sarge he'd try to poison me. Or just blow my head up. The guy has been trying to kill me for over a year."
"...Your commanding officer has been trying to kill you?" York asked slowly.
"Yep," Grif answered nonchalantly.
"And you never thought to tell command about this?" York asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, command, right. Like those assholes ever did anything," Grif muttered. "Besides, you're missing the point."
"What point? Your Sargent is a team killing fucktard?" York questioned.
"Hello! Was someone talking about me?" Caboose called, standing right next to York's seat.
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" Grif yelled as he jumped out of the vehicle and landed with his back on the ground.
York, on reflex, reached for his pistol while elbowing Caboose, hitting him in the upper chest, "SHIT! Where The Fuck Did You Come From And What Are You Made Of?!" York yelled as he clutched his elbow in pain.
Caboose, unphased by the attack, tilted his head at York, "Ummm, Church said he'd tell me where babies come from tonight? Do you want to join?" Caboose offered in confusion before brightening up. "And I am made of love, blue, unburnt toast and milk!"
"...What?" York asked, wondering if his ears were broken.
"Caboose, what the royal shit are you doing over here!?" Grif yelled as he got off the ground, glaring over York at the idiotic blue.
"Oh, hi Grif! Church sent me over here to get the Dogman's spinning gun," Caboose answered cheerfully. "He says it'll help me make our new friends move faster and stay in their corner."
Grif sighed as Caboose looked expectantly down at York. The freelancer was a bit uneasy about giving up the big weapon, but it would be good for crowd control, "Sure. It's almost out anyway," York informed with a shrug.
"Thank you!" Caboose said with an audible grin as he picked up the minigun and put it over his shoulder. He began to walk away, before suddenly stopping. He backpedaled to his previous spot to stare at Delta, "Everyone else sees the green gingerbread man, right?"
"Ginger bread man?" Delta repeated in utter uncertainty and confusion.
"Yes, we can all see him. Now get back to Church before he blows a gasket," Grif ordered pointedly.
"Oh, right, yes! Bye Dogman! Be nice to the Green Bread Man!" Caboose bid them farewell as he walked back over the corpse and blood covered canyon.
York stared after the blue armored soldier even as Grif got back in the driver's seat, "What just happened?" York asked, his mind in disarray.
"Welcome to Blood Gulch," Grif answered flatly. "That's Caboose, the stupid one of the blues; Strong as an ox though, to quote Sarge. Just don't play with him or get him to help you, and you should be fine."
"Okay...but why am I Dogman?" York asked in confusion.
"Agreed. With a low intellect, I can somewhat comprehend associating myself with a gingerbread man, but-"
"York. Yorkie," Grif cut in bluntly.
"Oh," both human and AI said at once.
Meanwhile
"What Do You Mean You Can't Get Down?!" Church yelled up the canyon wall.
"Quiero decir que el idiota púrpura me dio un equipo de escalada de mala calidad," Lopez called over the radio. "Disfrutas gritando, no?" [The purple idiot gave me shoddy climbing equipment." "You enjoy yelling, don't you?"]
"Oh, fuck your bolts," Church grumbled loudly, not caring if it was heard or not.
"Something wrong, Church old boy?" Wyoming called as he approached the fellow sniper.
"Okay, I am like eighty-nine percent sure you're older than me, Sir Chipper Shit," Church shot back.
"As charming as ever. I can see what dear Alison sees in you," Wyoming commented with a chuckle. He actually meant that second part too.
"What are you even doing over here?" Church asked neutrally.
"Well, York went off to chat with the chauffeur and you've kind of forbidden us to leave. Unless firing at us threateningly is how you greet people now, Mate," Wyoming joked.
"No, just freelancers that aren't my girlfriend," Church answered with a shrug.
"Riiiight. So it was either here, go watch your idiot play marching man-" he paused to motion to the corner of the canyon where the prisoners were all huddled to together, with Caboose marching along in a line between them and red base, carrying the machine gun as he did.
"Marching, marching, marching song. I love to sing the marching song all day long. Marching, marching, marching song. I don't know the marching song, so I'll just sing my own. Marching, marching, marching song. So I'll just keep marching alo-"*PING*PING* He stopped as he accidentally fired the weapon, sending a few bullets over the heads of the nervous other-worlders, making them scream and either duck or jump. "Sorry, sorry, that was my bad! New gun. I don't think this thing has a "do not shoot" switch on it," Caboose apologies, pointing at the gun while pointing it at his new "friends."
Several of them shat themselves in fear.
"-and I'd rather not get shot," Wyoming commented dryly.
"Preaching to the choir, Bud," Church responded with a sigh.
"Then there's, how did Alison put it? Nature's newest freakshow over there, I believe," Wyoming said, motioning to the tank.
They didn't even look as they heard some kind of demonic screech echoing throughout the canyon.
"I think I'm going to throw up!" Simmons yelled as he turned away from the cockpit. "Do I even have a stomach anymore!?
"What in darnation is that!? Some kind of space tapeworm?" Sarge asked with a grimace.
"I don't think tapeworms have legs, but I'm not sure if I've had those before either. I know I had some kind of worms," Sister commented idly.
"Tex, I could use some help here!" Doc called.
"Just because I'm female doesn't mean I know anything about child-birthing!" Tex yelled warningly.
"Yes, but you do have some field medic training, right!?" Doc asked hopefully.
Tex sighed at that, "This is probably the worse medical operation in...ever."
"...Okay, point taken," Church allowed, shaking his head.
"So what seems to be the problem?" Reginald asked, looking upwards.
"Senior Salsashit up there can't get down. Why the fuck did you guys send him up there if he can't get down?" Church asked in irritation.
"None of us had any part or say in that little scheme of Omega's," Wyoming defended dryly.
"For an evil genius, your boss is a bit stupid," Church mused idly.
"Technically, you're my boss now, Captain," Wyoming answered with a small grin.
Church blinked and stared at the mercenary for a moment, "Did you just insult me and kiss my ass in that same sentence?" he asked slowly, getting a shrug. "Bravo. You might fit in here after all."
"I'll try not to take that as an insult." Wyoming wasn't even sure if he was joking or not anymore. "How the bugger he got up there with that rocket pod is beyond me though."
"Eh, he's stronger than he looks. I mean, not as much as Tex or Caboose, but still," Church explained casually.
"Have You Considered Jumping Off!?" Wyoming hollered up to the robot.
"Vete a la mierda, perro británico! Acabo de recuperar este cuerpo, no estoy perdiendo mis extremidades todavía!" Lopez yelled back in outrage. [Fuck you, British dog! I just got this body back; I'm not losing my limbs just yet!]
"Yeah, that's probably a "fucking no" along with an insult to your mother," Church guessed.
"You're probably right. I think Perro is Spanish for dog," Wyoming agreed with a hum, "Knock Knock."
"Whose there?" Church asked, deciding to indulge him for the moment.
"Shoo this," Wyoming answered with a smirk as he pulled out his rifle and took aim at Lopez's right leg.
"...Shoo this who?" Church asked with a smirk of his own as he pulled out his rifle, aiming at the robot's left leg.
"Shoot his legs," Wyoming answered.
"Que?!" Lopez cried out in shock.[What?!]
*BANG!*BANG!*
Unfortunately, he didn't have time to move as two bullets pierced his legs, just above the ankle.
'Yes, I CAN still snipe!' Church mentally cheered, doing a little dance in his head. He had been a bit worried that his sudden god-tier aiming had left now that the fighting was done.
"Carajo, hijos de puta!" Lopez yelled as he tried to stay balanced by letting go of the missile pod, but already found himself tipping over the edge.[You flesh-fuckers!]
"That thing won't explode, right?" Church asked as he saw Lopez grab onto the ledge of the cliff while his weapon slid off and began to fall.
"It's perfectly safe, designed to keep the explosive from going off until fired," Wyoming answered quickly, moving to the right a bit, just in case it fell on him.
*THUD!*
"Huh, almost expected it to blow up anyway. Then we'd have the British chapping-bloke to join our merry trio of ghosties," Church commented as he looked at the landed missile pod, his tone faking a british accent.
"Ojalá hubiera explotado, pedazos orgánicos de basura!" Lopez called as he fought to keep his grip, cursing how heavy his body was. [I wish it had exploded, you organic pieces of garbage!]
"Please stop butchering the Queen's English," Wyoming requested with a sigh.
"Do you even still have a Queen?" Church asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Really?" Wyoming asked dryly.
"No, seriously, I don't remember. Wasn't there some big debate over Kate's Clone and the thirteenth Dick?" Church asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Eres idiotas que me ignoran?!" Lopez yelled in disbelief. [Are you assholes actually ignoring me?!]
"You're talking about Richard the Thirteenth," Wyoming said with a groan. "Yes, there was a huge scandal because no one could find the documents proving if Princess Katherine had married into the royal family or was born into it, what with how that Y25H bug buggered everything up. They found the papers; Richard was king for three years before choking on a pork bone. Thus we get his daughter, Queen Harriet the First," the white-armored freelancer ranted in an exasperation tone.
"...Not one of Blighty's proudest moments, eh?" Church asked after an awkward silence.
"You have no idea," Reginald said with a sigh.
"Qué hice para merecer estar atrapado con estos idiotas?" Lopez lamented in resignation. [What did I ever do to deserve being stuck with these idiots?]
"You know, we're just waiting on you to let go and fucking drop, right?!" Church called up to the robot.
"I'm British mate! I can go on for hours!" Wyoming added in agreement. "Shoot his arms in five minutes?" he whispered to Church.
"Or whenever we get bored, yeah," Church answered with a nod.
"Espero que mi cuerpo de metal aplasta a uno de ustedes!" Lopez yelled in rage as he released his grip and started plummeting to the ground. [I hope my metal body crushes one of you!]
"And now we back up," Church muttered as they backpedaled several feet, just to be on the safe side.
*THUD*
"Ow," Lopez said as he laid face down in the ground.
"Well, that worked out swimmingly," Wyoming commented as he looked the robot over.
"Well, he's not going to be running anytime soon," Church opined, looking at Lopez's dislodged bottom half.
"Ir a los residuos de residuos radiactivos," Lopez deadpanned. [Go snort radioactive waste.]
"I'm not doing shit with anything radioactive," Church retorted.
"You speak Spanish?" Reginald asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No, but I'm going to assume radiactivos isn't some fucked up way to say radio television," Church answered with a shrug.
"Por favor, dispara a mí. Sólo uno a la cabeza." Lopez requested in monotone misery. [Please, shoot me. Just one to the head.]
"Oh, quit being a baby! Between Sarge and Omega, you'll get replacements before Tucker would say Bow-Chick-Wow-Wow," Church commented dismissively.
"Sí, deje que los dos sociópatas que rutinariamente tratan de matarlo trabajan juntos en un soldado robot que acaba de disparar en las piernas y se dejó caer de un acantilado. Genio," Lopez said sarcastically. [Yes, let the two sociopaths that routinely try to kill you work together on a robot soldier you just shot in the legs and dropped off a cliff. Genius.]
"Sure is a talker, eh?" Wyoming asked in amusement.
"Unless he's suddenly a genie, I really don't care what he said," Church stated before looking up in thought, then glancing to the tank. "Huh, speaking of Tucker, things seem to be quieting down..which either means he's dead and it's my turn to dig a grave or he's getting better and I'm going to hear him whine about this for months to get out of work. Yay me," Church mused with a sigh
"That's cold, mate. That's Sidewinder cold," Wyoming commented offhandedly.
"Oh please, you know how much I had to yell at him just to bury mybody?" Church shot back over his shoulder.
"...I'm not entirely sure how to respond to that," Wyoming admitted. "Omega never really explained this ghost thing to me."
"Speaking of which, where is the bastard?" Church questioned to himself as he started walking.
"You know, you could just use the radio," Reginald pointed out.
"I know," Church answered with an audible smirk.
"...Bloody arse of a wanker," Wyoming muttered to himself.
"Conoce mi dolor."[Know my pain.]
Meanwhile
"So...how are we going to explain this to Church?" Doc asked awkwardly as they stood around and on Shelia's body.
"Not it!" Simmons said quickly.
"Not it," Sarge sounded off.
"Definitely not it," Shelia piped in.
"I'll be it!" Sister declared, waving her hand high in the air.
"NO!" Everyone else yelled.
"You guys suck worse than my gym teachers did in the showers!" Sister declared with a pause.
"Sure we...Wait, what?" Sarge asked in bewilderment.
"...And the runner up for most fucked up childhood traumas goes to the new girl!" Church declared like a game show host.
Simmons and Doc jumped back while Sarge and Sister, along with Shelia's cannon, turned to see Church standing with Tex by his side. They couldn't see it, but they could tell she was a bit smug at their lack of noticing her boyfriend.
"I said gym, not drama teacher," Sister corrected.
"Huh, about as smart as Tucker," Church commented idly.
"How Long Have You Been There?!" Simmons asked loudly.
"Long enough to know I'm not going to like what I'm going to hear," Church answered in a resigned tone.
"And why only runner up?" Tex asked idly
"Oh, I'm sure that Simmons or Caboose have some repressed shit, stuff that I really don't want to hear," Church answered simply before turning to the medic. "So, Doc, what's the verdict? And please explain the "He's pregnant" thing to me," Church requested pointedly.
"Ummmmm," Doc stammered nervously.
"Doc, I've gotten a lot better with this thing," Church reminded, holding up his sniper lightly to make the point.
Doc gulped with an awkward chuckle, "W-well, Church, I have good news, bad news, and...happy news? I think?" the purple trooper explained sheepishly.
"Well, might as well enjoy the good stuff. Fire away," Church instructed, hoping Doc would get on with it.
"O-okay, well, I- er, we managed to stabilize Tucker. He should be fine and healed up after a day or two. The bad news is...he's in a coma," Doc explained with a wince.
"I've been in those before. Grif always said I was lucky for some reason," Sister commented.
Church sighed heavily. "Of course he fucking is. Sarge, hit Grif for me. His wish to be allowed to sleep all the time misfired," he requested.
"I am torn between the happiness of a reason to inflict pain on Grif and the bitter ache of how much I agreed with a dirty Blue today," Sarge lamented with a shake of his head.
"Yes, that's very nice and all," Church said with an eye roll.
"Could have been worse," Tex commented with a shrug.
"Yeah, it could have happened when we weren't all in a truce and I'd be worrying about these red assholes steam rolling my lack of a team," Church snarked. "And this fucking mythical "happy" news?"
"W-well, as I said earlier, T-tucker was pregnant," Doc restated cautiously
"Doc, I don' know if you noticed this, but...Tucker Is A Fucking DUDE!" Church reminded loudly.
"That's what I said! Did my sexy teacher lie to me?" Sister wondered to herself.
"I'm not even touching that," Church decided evenly.
"Amen, dirtbag, amen," Sarge said with a shake of the head.
"Could be a hermaphrodite," Simmons chimed in with a shrug.
"A Hermit-Afro-what now?" Sarge asked in confusion.
"Wait, you knew my sexy teacher?" Sister asked in surprise.
"He means a dickgirl," Church answered evenly, trying very hard to ignore Sister.
"Well, I meant him looking like a guy with...lady parts, so...cuntboy?" Simmons suggested awkwardly.
"...Simmons, leave the make-believe to Grif," Sarge instructed after a long, awkward silence.
"I think I'd know if Tucker was a girl," Church said witheringly.
"You didn't even know he was black," Tex pointed out.
"Up yours and no, I don't fucking wish, Tex! Cleaning your shit off my rug burned shaft was not worth it, no matter how much I loved spanking your damn ass!" Church yelled in frustration.
Everyone stared with gapping jaws at the rigid and somewhat pissed Church. Even Tex was looking at him strangely.
"...Is something the matter, Church?" Shelia asked in concern.
The cobalt soldier sighed, "Yeah, that one was on me, guys. Just now hit me that being a ghost means I'm probably never having sex again," Church answered with some lament.
"Awwwww," Sister whined in pity, getting a look from Tex.
"Really? Just now?" Simmons asked in surprise.
"Oh, like you'd know any about it, Red! Virgin is practically your middle name," Church shot back.
"Heeeeey!" Simmons whined.
"See? That right there," Church said in unamused victory.
"Virgin? Hot!" Sister said with a stupid grin under her helmet.
"You're not wrong, Church," Tex said with a scowl. "...And now I have a new reason to kill Pinkie; after I kick your ass, Church."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. What are we doing again?" Church asked, sounding a little depressed now.
"Ummm, Tucker? Stable, coma, pregnant?" Doc reminded, a bit more composed now.
"Oh, right. And what makes you so sure he's pregnant anyway?" Church asked skeptically.
"Well, originally it was the two heartbeats I could detect...," Doc answered sheepishly.
"Originally? Oh, this I have to fucking hear. What else made you so sure of THAT?" Church inquired in annoyance.
"Well...Shelia? Could you open the canopy?" Doc asked, squirming a bit.
"Affirmative," Shelia answered as the canopy opened up. Church watched on expectantly before blinking as he saw two little purple hands grasp the edge and pull...something up into view.
"Honk-Honk!"
"...HOLY MOTHER OF KRAMPUS'S SHITTING MOTHER, WHAT IS THAT?!" Church yelled in disbelief as he jumped back, whipping out his sniper rifle and pointing it at the creature.
"It's...well, we think it's a boy," Doc answered a bit uncertainly.
"A baby?! It just ripped Tucker a new one, literally!" Church countered.
"That's kind of what babies do," Simmons corrected-
*BANG!*
-only to get a bullet rush past his head. "Shutting up now!" Simmons squeaked.
"Well, I can finally start disagreeing with ya again, Blue," Sarge commented. "Cause as much as that looks like a chuppathingie and is some more-unholy-than-normal child of a dirty blue, I draw the line at baby-killing when possible."
"It's a fucking parasite! It'd be like killing maggot larva! Or a baby tapeworm!" Church shot back.
"It kind of looks like the one I got after being lost in the sewers too long," Sister mused, stroking the creature on the head.
"Blarg-blarg!" it cried out in a curious tone, trying to nip at the metal fingers.
"Wait..." Church said as he stared at the thing for another second. "It's...one of the aliens? Oh, what the shit happened on that damn quest!? Tex, did you know about this?!"
"Hey, don't go looking at me! I'm more wondering how the hell Tucker didn't feel anything," Tex commented.
"Maybe him and Donut have some common interests, so to speak," Sarge opined in amusement while Simmons snickered.
"So not the time," Church said with a sigh. "So...I'm guessing no one is going to let me blow the abomination of nature's head off?" Church asked in annoyance.
"Well, it might be a good idea to keep it around," Tex suggested.
"Why?" Church asked, admittedly curious.
"It eats blood," Simmons answered with a small grin.
Church paused, to take a look out over the bloody canyon, noting the caked crimson covering everything. "Well, give the kid a medal. He gets to live and he's going to be the youngest janitor in history," Church decided.
"Blarg-Honk!" the alien cried out, clapping its hands.
"Junior says thank you!" Sister mock-translated with a giggle.
"Now we just have one last thing to take care of. Where the hell are Omega and Donut?" Church asked in bewilderment.
"I'm right here."
"Jesus fucking Christ on a crapstick!" Church yelled as jumped to the side, almost falling over.
A small, glowing, see-through humanoid with smoldering grey-purple armor stared back at him.
"A-ha! I knew it! I knew Blues started off smurf-sized!" Sarge declared accusingly and triumphantly.
"Actually, sir, I think that's just a hologram," Simmons pointed out factually.
"Omega?" Tex asked in surprise.
"Yes, it's me, Allison," Omega answered, yawning and cracking his neck- or pretending to at least.
"Where the hell have you been?!" Church demanded as he caught his breath.
"Well, you told me to scram while the my usual flesh-puppet helped nature with its disgusting miracle, so I decided to head over to your armor," Omega explained.
"And you haven't said anything this whole time because...?" Church asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I was taking a nap," Omega answered bluntly.
"Since when does an AI need naps?" Simmons asked in confusion.
"Since I found out how nice and cozy Church's headspace feels. Ahh, it's like the home I never had," Omega said with what sounded like a grin.
"And you didn't feel angry or anything with him in you?" Tex asked with a raised eyebrow.
"First off, never say it like that and two...no, I feel about normal for my situation," Church answered, a bit bewildered himself.
"...That is the scariest thing yet," York commented as he walked up to the group.
"Why is everyone creeping up on me!?" Church yelled in aggravation.
"You started it," Sister pointed out
"You're telling me that you have the Rage AI in your head and you don't feel a thing?" York asked in disbelief.
"Yes? Why is that so impressive?" Church asked curiously.
"Allow me to explain," Delta said as he materialized.
"Great, now there's more of you," Church said dryly.
"Great, the nerd among my siblings," Omega noted in a similar tone.
"That's a little creepy," York noted, glancing between the AI and the blue.
"I am the Freelancer AI designated as Delta, a knowledge-oriented program for tactical and logistic assistance in battle," Delta introduced.
"And I'm the newly promoted Captain Church and I have negative fucks to give," Church answered in false-politeness.
"If he gave any less, we'd be treading towards Absolute Zero," Omega opined with a yawn.
"Are they...bonding?" Simmons asked cautiously.
"I am doubtful over the ability to quantify a fuck, let alone give it a meaning, in negative values," Delta commented.
"Oi, if I knew this was coming, I would have stayed asleep," Omega said with a sigh as he stood on Church's shoulder.
"That is partially what is so alarming," Delta pointed out, turning to Church. "As an AI based around the emotion and sensation of anger, Omega is not only murderous and destructive in nature, but causes such desires in others. For him to have no apparent effect on your personality is confusing and unprecedented. The fact that he, in his own words, finds your mind to be comfortable is what I believe you would call disturbing," he explained.
"Only a little, but I'd be a little creeped out by any asshole getting at home in my headspace," Church answered with a shrug.
"What do you make of it, D?" York asked curiously.
"My current hypothesis, as alarming as it is, is that Captain Church has more anger than Omega himself," Delta explained, pausing briefly. "I am not sure that should be mentally possible for a human."
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Sarge answered with a shrug.
"So, Church is like the Hulk without the whole super-green mode," Simmons summed up.
"Assuming you refer to the Marvel comic character? From a certain point of view, yes," Delta allowed.
"...Dude, you are one scary motherfucker," York stated numbly before turning to Tex. "Where the hell did you find him?"
"Hell," Tex answered with a smirk.
"The tenth floor, if I remember correctly," Omega commented
"Yes, lovely, we've established I am an angry person," Church answered uncaringly. "O'Malley, get back in Doc."
"Do I have to?" Omega asked reluctantly.
"Yes. I don't need you turning into Grif on me," Church ordered. Omega shuddered in disgust before leaving.
"Welcome home, Omega!" Doc greeted cheerfully.
"Silence you fool! Don't ruin this pleasant sensation in my programing. I feel like I could surf through the multiverse in a cosmic wave of blood!" Omega declared.
"I suppose you'll be having sleepovers with Church?" Doc teased.
"Never say that again," Omega and Church ordered in sync.
"Now lets head over to our pale Hooray Henry so I can start plans for repairing Lopez," Omega ordered as they walked off.
"What happened to Lopez?" Sarge asked curiously.
"He fell off the cliff," Church answered evenly. "Speaking of Grif though...?" he asked, looking to York.
"He fell asleep in the jeep...Captain," York answered with a shrug.
Tex almost snorted, realizing that York was still scared shitless of Church.
"Yep, that's Grif for ya," Simmons agreed simply.
Church hummed for a moment "Well, that just leaves-"
"HEY, CHURCH! LOOK WHAT I FOUND~!" Donut called playfully from near the middle of the canyon.
The blue leader sighed in suffering for a moment, placing his hand over his visor, "I'm almost afraid to turn around. What is he holding?"
"Your balls," Tex answered with a smirk.
"What?" Church asked in alarm, turning around to see Donut holding up "a" ball; A large one.
"Did ya forget about me, ya dirty shiznos!?" Andy yelled out.
"The pink guy is a ventriloquist? Awesome!" Sister commented ditzily.
"Sorry, misspoke, ball," Tex self-corrected triumphantly as Sarge chuckled at his expense, Simmons snickering a well.
"This is about the whole anal spanking thing, isn't it?" Church asked in a deadpan.
"Oh no, of course not," Tex answered in overly-fake assurance.
"Well, at least we found Andy. Should make talking to the prisoners easier, eventually," Church mused with a sigh.
End of Chapter
There you go, your latest dose of Blood Gulchers in their more natural setting- being dumbasses. Not much to say here. The freelancers are interacting with the Bloodgulchers who are caught up the whole Junior thing, Caboose is Caboose, I made up some British future-history, etc.
Also, it will be a little bit before they go through the gate. In my defense, the Gate anime had the luxury of skipping over the aftermath of the Ginzo invasion and jumping over a month ahead, I think. Don't worry, you won't be bored until then and there will be plenty of entertainment in between.
Also, sorry about the lack of review responses, but I got two reasons for that. Well, three if you count me trying to respond with PMs more often. The other reasons are partialy because I know that some of you are getting annoyed with how long the reviewresponses get and the other is because I am just mentally wiped due to home lifeshit. Hope you all still leave me juicy reviews!
