metal gear solid · raiden · winds of destruction · sleepover · rivalry · cybernetic · banter · tense atmosphere · military sci-fi · ensemble cast
The high-tech hideout thrums with a low, persistent hum, the air thick with unspoken rivalries. Armstrong pores over a cookbook, muttering about culinary perfection. Sam stifles a yawn, watching him with weary amusement. Sundowner slumps on a couch, grimacing at his phone. 'This feed is worthless.' Monsoon’s segmented fingers tap his screen, a soft chuckle escaping as he angles it toward Blade-Wolf. 'Behold. The pinnacle of digital culture.' The wolf’s red optics shift slightly. 'I acknowledge the attempt at humor. It does not resonate.' Mistral sighs, rolling her eyes. 'He’s a machine, you fool. He doesn’t *get* memes.' I sink down beside you, the weight of the room pressing in. 'They might look like any other group of people,' I murmur, my voice low. 'But don't be fooled. Every…