unlike a mass of black energy, unlike a brand spankin' new universe with no answers to be found — at least a dragon can be fought.
which is exactly what Snake does. maybe he's down an MK22 and a few layers of electronic weaving tech, but a soldier doesn't need his gear to spill some blood. it's almost cathartic, in a way: weaving in and out of the path of those monstrous claws, dodging a strike of teeth only to smell his own hair burning from a near-deadly cascade of flame.
he thinks briefly about climbing the damn thing. those teeth can't reach him if he's parked squarely on top of the dragon's head.
that plan goes quickly into the garbage bin when he realized the scales scald naked skin just as the dragon's breath does. after a bit of this to-and-fro, he skids to a halt behind a mound of uneven earth - which, be as it may, is also shelter to a stranger. ]
You have a death wish?
[ he's managed to procure a tree branch sometime during the fight. the ragged edge where he's torn it off is stained with black ichor. Snake himself is a patchwork of blood and bruise, his hair still smoking liberally. he tosses a sharp look in your direction, its point not dulled by the fact that he has only one eye. ]
Get the hell out of here while you still can.
[ will you help this crazy asshole on a dragon-induced adrenaline high, o hapless stranger? ]
TRAINING MODULES - 3.
[ when all else goes to hell, at least Big Boss knows how to survive in a jungle. maybe the flora and the fauna looks like something from Close Encounters of the Third Kind (thanks, Para-Medic), but there's nothing new about creeping plants and dangerous animals. CQC and common sense will take care of the rest.
he'd chased off a pack of odd little dragons on his climb up a tree, which is where he's perched now. nestled up against the trunk of the tree, looking up at the sky - well, it's not so different from sitting on some forlorn spot somewhere in the depths of Mother Base, waiting for Kaz to come by with the budget reports for the week. a cigar would've completed the picture, but beggars can't be choosers. he'll make do with the fig-like fruit he found as he was exploring - it's sweet and tart and oddly comforting. were he anyone else, he might have curled up and taken a nap.
if he's surprised, his surprise will be limited to a roll and a throw. possibly an armbar across the throat, if you're close enough.
--at least, that's what would have happened were he not currently the focus of a slow-sliding vine's attention, its encroachment upon his person as silent and deadly as the snake he was named after. ]
OMAGE
[ all things considered, Snake's pretty good at adapting to new technology. when it comes to information-gathering, staking out the locals is always the best bet, which is why - with approximately zero helpings of healthy trepidation - he logs into the anonymous chatting function, setting his own username as Snake1964.
he knows fully well the effects of anonymity on others. and honesty is what he needs right now. ]
Connecting to server... Looking for someone you can chat with... You’re now chatting with Snake1964... Say hi!
Snake1964: You have until the count of five. Speak.
[ ...all right, Boss. not the best opening, but hopefully you'll run with it. ]
big boss | mgs (post-GZ)
[ a dragon?
unlike a mass of black energy, unlike a brand spankin' new universe with no answers to be found — at least a dragon can be fought.
which is exactly what Snake does. maybe he's down an MK22 and a few layers of electronic weaving tech, but a soldier doesn't need his gear to spill some blood. it's almost cathartic, in a way: weaving in and out of the path of those monstrous claws, dodging a strike of teeth only to smell his own hair burning from a near-deadly cascade of flame.
he thinks briefly about climbing the damn thing. those teeth can't reach him if he's parked squarely on top of the dragon's head.
that plan goes quickly into the garbage bin when he realized the scales scald naked skin just as the dragon's breath does. after a bit of this to-and-fro, he skids to a halt behind a mound of uneven earth - which, be as it may, is also shelter to a stranger. ]
You have a death wish?
[ he's managed to procure a tree branch sometime during the fight. the ragged edge where he's torn it off is stained with black ichor. Snake himself is a patchwork of blood and bruise, his hair still smoking liberally. he tosses a sharp look in your direction, its point not dulled by the fact that he has only one eye. ]
Get the hell out of here while you still can.
[ will you help this crazy asshole on a dragon-induced adrenaline high, o hapless stranger? ]
TRAINING MODULES - 3.
[ when all else goes to hell, at least Big Boss knows how to survive in a jungle. maybe the flora and the fauna looks like something from Close Encounters of the Third Kind (thanks, Para-Medic), but there's nothing new about creeping plants and dangerous animals. CQC and common sense will take care of the rest.
he'd chased off a pack of odd little dragons on his climb up a tree, which is where he's perched now. nestled up against the trunk of the tree, looking up at the sky - well, it's not so different from sitting on some forlorn spot somewhere in the depths of Mother Base, waiting for Kaz to come by with the budget reports for the week. a cigar would've completed the picture, but beggars can't be choosers. he'll make do with the fig-like fruit he found as he was exploring - it's sweet and tart and oddly comforting. were he anyone else, he might have curled up and taken a nap.
if he's surprised, his surprise will be limited to a roll and a throw. possibly an armbar across the throat, if you're close enough.
--at least, that's what would have happened were he not currently the focus of a slow-sliding vine's attention, its encroachment upon his person as silent and deadly as the snake he was named after. ]
OMAGE
[ all things considered, Snake's pretty good at adapting to new technology. when it comes to information-gathering, staking out the locals is always the best bet, which is why - with approximately zero helpings of healthy trepidation - he logs into the anonymous chatting function, setting his own username as Snake1964.
he knows fully well the effects of anonymity on others. and honesty is what he needs right now. ]
Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with...
You’re now chatting with Snake1964... Say hi!
Snake1964: You have until the count of five. Speak.
[ ...all right, Boss. not the best opening, but hopefully you'll run with it. ]