This is how a Spartan takes a selfie.

Did a mobility test last night and walked up and down some stairs. Definitely a bit slowed down but wasn’t too bad. I will reinforce all strapping tonight.

#405th #halo #spartan #cosplay #cosplayer #masterchief #markvi #sarge #rvb #redvsblue #roosterteeth #selfie #dragoncon #dragoncon2015 #melpool

Sarge the Dad Guy

Description: Sarge is everyone’s fucking dad, isn’t he?

A/N: I have no explanation for this, either. It’s short enough that I won’t put in a Readmore.


Simmons took long, deep breaths. He figured it was a good idea to breathe as much as possible, considering his anxiety levels were way up. Across from him, sitting on the floor, was Sarge, who looked more shell-shocked than he had when he had learned that Grif had a sister. Well, this wasn’t too far off from that instance, per-say, not that Sarge or anyone else was really happy about it. Grif was off in the corner, sitting on a crate as he glared daggers at the back of Sarge’s head. It was rare that the orange Simulation Soldier showed so much aggression, much less looked like he would act on it, but Simmons figured it was pretty much expected, given the rather odd and awkward circumstances.

“So let me get this straight…” Washington began, looking from Sarge, to Grif, to Donut, and then back to Sarge again. “You’re telling us, that during your first shore-leave, you fucked Grif’s mother in order to make him, fucked Donut’s mother to make him four months later, AND you raised Agents North and South Dakota!?” He sounded absolutely astonished.

“That doesn’t automatically mean he’s Donut or Grif’s dad though, right?” Simmons questioned, ready to start an argument over the matter. “I mean, what if Grif’s mom got around- as surprising and unusual as that is to think about- and it’s just a coincidence that Sarge fucked her around the time she got pregnant with Grif.”

“I hate to say this, Simmons, but let’s face it: I’m related to the craziest man in the universe,” Grif deadpanned, dropping off the crate to lie down on the ground. Was he getting into the fatal position? Yep, he sure was. “Oh God, what if I get a southern accent!?” He looked to Wash, eyeing the pistol holstered on his hip armor. “Hey, Wash, you got anything against shooting me? Like, right here? In cold blood? Just pretend I’m Donut, I mean, you shot him, remember?”

“Should I be mad at you about that, son?” Sarge suddenly questioned, taking his whole life into account as he truly began to realize that two of his soldiers were his children. “I mean, I was already down ‘n furious with ya fer shootin’ one of my boys, but now he’s actually my boy… oh boy.”

“Oh God, I’m related to DONUT!” Grif screeched, shaking as he rocked in the fatal position. Back and forth, back and forth. It was slightly dizzying to watch. “What if I start watching reality TV shows, or drinking fancy wine? I DON’T WANNA BE A PINK IDIOT!”

“Hey, it’s lightish-red! And I’m not an idiot! Right, Dad?” Donut looked to Sarge, looking expectant. Compared to everyone else, he was taking this a lot better.

Everyone collectively groaned, as if Donut saying 'Dad’ further laminated the truth of the situation. “Is there anyone you’re not the Dad of on this planet!?” Wash suddenly shouted, throwing his arms up in frustration.

For a moment, all was quiet, until Caboose walked in, for once out of armor. The dark haired man looked surprised, an open bottle of Dr. Pepper centimeters from his mouth. Sarge gave the blue rookie a long, thoughtful look. “Caboose… you ever met yer first pa?” He asked the simple, innocent question.

Caboose looked confused, before shaking his head, a bit disappointed. “Ya know, Caboose, ya look a whole lot like a lady I once fancied… ya at all related to a Janet Jupiter?”

“You mean Mom?” Caboose replied, finally taking a long, slow drink of his Dr. Pepper, making a face at the fizzy taste. “Yes. I guess so. How do you know Mom, Mr. Sargent?”

“Well, ya see…” And so Sarge started ranting on and on to Caboose about how, yes, he knew his Mom. In the meantime, Washington curled up beside Grif, absolutely astonished by Sarge’s past… 'experiences’. Donut stared at the floor, as if asking it how this could happen, while Grif began to cry. Loudly. Simmons sighed, shaking his head. This was un-fucking-believable.


A/N: Completely odd and random… can you even imagine? I actually do enjoy the headcanon of Sarge having raised the Dakota Twins, and him having something to do with Grif, Donut, and Caboose’s births is pretty funny to me. Is it canon in any of my fics? That’s for you to decide… heheh.

 ~Supercasey.

Wait

Wait wait wait

so

Lopez is very clearly not just a robot, dude’s got emotions. Even if they are predominately exasperation mixed with anger and the general disillusionment of life. So I’m pretty sure he’s an AI.

So Sarge created an AI from, essentially, scratch. Then Sarge does it again, with Lopez Dos-Point-0, only that one went insane with rage and tried to kill them all. This alone points out that Lopez Dos-Point-0 was also an AI, just one more prone to losing his shit as opposed to Lopez the Heavy. 

So Sarge created not one, but two AIs. From scratch. Where the Director could not.

Not only that, but let us not forget the fact that Grif was mortally wounded and Sarge was able to pull a Frankenstein and then make Simmons a cyborg out of spare parts. Therefore, he has more medical expertise than Doc. Except he doesn’t, because he had to use a chart for the names of the parts of a cow.

And it is possible to be a genius in a league nobody’s ever heard of, but not know it due to inadequate education. 

So this all brings me to the point that I’m fairly certain Sarge is an unregistered supergenius or some shit who refuses to acknowledge it because fuck it he ain’t some fuckin’ nerd.

So the Red Team is a group of incredibly talented underachievers. Except Grif

goredteam