𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫
@tundraborn.bsky.social
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“ 𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵.” | #ᴇʟᴜᴠᴇɪɴ | #HaloRP
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tundraborn.bsky.social
— 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐕

Captain Ripley “Winter” Kullander | ONI | Reach survivor | Former marine | Reconnaissance | Infiltration | Retrieval | 6’7” | 6’11” in armor | Mirage IIC | Friendly | Helpful | Loyal

#ᴇʟᴜᴠᴇɪɴ | #HaloRP
tundraborn.bsky.social
wrist, Ripley made a weak attempt to reach the cast. There was no risk of them actually getting to it, not between Reigh’s intervention and their limited mobility.
tundraborn.bsky.social
“Why?” Their voice was hoarse, and little more than a murmur despite their best attempts. What had happened was slow to come back to them. They remembered the berserkers who had jumped the two of them, but the memories of the Chieftain had yet to catch up with them.

Despite Reigh’s hold on their —
tundraborn.bsky.social
despite their best efforts, but a Spartan would still hear them just fine. With both hands they had grabbed onto the head of the bunk, and had started to pull themself into a seated position.
tundraborn.bsky.social
It was entirely unfortunate that Ripley had only recently dragged themself to bed, and was in no shape to get up at a reasonable pace. By all rights they should have still been on a hospital bed — but they had fussed enough to be sent to their own quarters.

“It’s unlocked!” Their voice was weak —
deathoncall.bsky.social
@tundraborn.bsky.social

Silvia had promised that she'd be back- and she was never one to promise anything. It had taken afew days, of course, she was a difficult woman to track- and even more difficult to actually get ahold of.

But, she had promised. And she'd be damned if it wasn't kept.

Knock.
tundraborn.bsky.social
remained unaware of Reigh being seated right beside them.
tundraborn.bsky.social
avoid the lights, the Spartan began to lift their arm in what was supposed to be a stubborn act of removing the cast. Only, their arm would not raise nor bend enough for them to reach the cast. They attempted the act again with their other arm to the same result.

During it all, Ripley had —
tundraborn.bsky.social
were stiff, everything felt hazy, and somehow they still felt sore.

When first their eyes opened, Ripley had to squint and adjust to the light. In trying to turn their head, they discovered not only was their neck incredible stuff, but it had been encased in a cast. Still squinting and trying to —
tundraborn.bsky.social
Hours more passed before Ripley began to stir. Entering consciousness felt like slipping into a dream thanks to the cocktail of chemicals being pumped through their system. Even with the extreme amount of painkillers Ripley was on, they were able to immediately tell something was not right. They —
tundraborn.bsky.social
|| And now: some very very late replies
tundraborn.bsky.social
|| Today I am a year older, and to mark the occasion I will try to get to replies on Ripley to give them attention because I miss them
tundraborn.bsky.social
began seep out and form a pool around their head.

Upon any inspection by Reigh, Ripley would remain unresponsive. Their breaths were shallow and ragged, and their vitals corroborated their critical state.
tundraborn.bsky.social
By the time the Chieftain was dead, Ripley remained an unmoving, crumpled heap of armor on the floor. The auxiliary shield generator on their chest was shattered and caved in, and would occasionally spew sparks from its broken lens. From beneath their dented helmet a steady stream of crimson had —
tundraborn.bsky.social
|| Reminder that: cutest ONI gamer
tundraborn.bsky.social
|| I am guilty of saying “hammer time” in reference to Ripley getting crushed by a gravity hammer almost every time I’ve brought up or thought about it happening
tundraborn.bsky.social
Had Ripley not been so drugged up or exhausted, there was a high chance they would have been giddy. Instead they just shut their eyes, hummed quietly, and murmured a near unintelligible “thank you.”

It would not take them long to pass out again. They had been on the cusp of sleep since waking up.
tundraborn.bsky.social
in next to my end table.” At least then they would be able to distract themself with movies or games during the times they were awake.
tundraborn.bsky.social
be comfortable and wear their binder, which was a minor yet compounding discomfort. It took them a few moments to think of anything they could have retrieved which would not be objectionable.

“Top drawer of my dresser… Or on top of it, I don’t know — is my personal pad. Charger should be plugged —
tundraborn.bsky.social
Hearing Silvia was up for a promotion had Ripley turn their head to look at her again. They refrained from any congratulations when hearing how Silvia viewed it as annoying.

“Well…” There were many things Ripley wanted for comfort that they had to do without. Broken ribs meant they could not even —
tundraborn.bsky.social
against their not-too-comfortable pillow, they sighed lowly and fixed their attention on the ceiling. “I hope you’ve been well, at least.”
tundraborn.bsky.social
Ripley was warm to the touch, though that was nothing new. They ran warm even while idle. What was new was a subtle, constant trembling. Either it was just their body reacting to the physical trauma and healing, or to the myriad of drugs being pumped through their system.

Leaning their head back —
tundraborn.bsky.social
“I wasn’t meaning to.” With a wince they turned their gaze to look at their left arm. The scabs weren’t anything that would scar or ruin their tattoos, though they still hated the way they looked — not that it was a priority concern. “First few days after the surgeries I didn’t know where I was.”
tundraborn.bsky.social
“Wish they’d tell me… When I’ll stop being hooked up to all of this.” Ripley gestured to all of the IVs and sensors hooked up to them. At one point Ripley had kept tearing them out whenever they woke up, leading to a collection of scabs and bruises along their arms.
tundraborn.bsky.social
“Am I?” Their voice was hoarse and quiet, and almost immediately breathless. For a moment they closed their eyes, only to reopen them when they felt the threat of passing out encroaching.

“The food,” they started, pausing to breathe, “suggests I’m in hell.”