03-23-2020, 03:20 PM
[caustic finds himself stuck with a reoccurring nightmare featuring a particularly bad end to one of his first rookie matches]
There were a few steps in the process of becoming an Apex Legend. First of all, you had to qualify. There were a few additional factors beforehand. You had to be presentable, have a reason for entry, and most of all you had to be marketable as a product. At it's core, the Apex Games was a sport. Legends were assets and they generated income from the games.
Qualifying involved intense practice- learning to work with the equipment and comms, hours of target practice on end. It was considered unethical to send a rookie who had no clue what they were doing into a match with the Legends. It was slaughter, not sport at that point. They liked to pair rookies with a Legend, just as an attempt to balance things out. Gibraltar always took rookies onto his team with no hesitation. Perhaps, one could admire Makoa's open heart, but Caustic knew such actions allowed the weak to survive. They made for easy kills in the future.
After qualifying, you had to survive and become a champion. After that, you were healed, and given a contract. It was an exchange, you became an Apex Legend with all the power, fame, and glory of the title. This was at a cost: you had to sign away the rights to your body. Legends made the agreement to have their bodies scanned, uploaded, and constantly killed. Your memory would be constantly updated, and subconscious replaced into a new body.
Caustic's championship match was well-fought for, as he was paired with Pathfinder and Bangalore. The scientist used his traps to keep the last squad from entering the ring, and gunned them down from inside. Accepting victory was oh so sweet, as Caustic knew it was a new chapter to his life.
It, unfortunately, took him a few matches to fit in properly. Learning to work with a team was difficult, especially when his teammates were always fools.
One defeat always bothered him. It was a victory he should have been able to attain, quite easily. It was inside the circular room of Water Treatment, the scientist had trapped all the doors, carefully sitting still and watching the zipline. His NOX grenade held firm in his hand, ready for use.
It all went wrong, however. Wraith opened the door, setting off his traps, voiding inside and immediately attacking him. His grenade clattered off the edge, wasted uselessly in the floor below, as she lunged and ripped off his mask. She exposed him to his own clouds, knife slamming into his chest and twisting-
Caustic awakes, rolling off his bed in a scramble of limbs and falling onto his shoulder. The wolf hisses, letting out a yelp. He convulses, shoulders racking as he coughs, spitting onto the floor and digging his paws in as he tries to sit up. Caustic wheezes, pain firing through his throat as he struggles to regain his breathing. It takes what feels like minutes, as he wheezes and hyperventilates to get it under control. He finally stands, gas wheezing from his mouth and looking onto his bed.
He expects a speedster to be lying there, still asleep. Octavio was a heavy sleeper, staying awake for hours on end until the daredevil crashed. It takes a moment for the thoughts to register through Caustic's brain. Octavio would have stayed asleep or woken up, put his arms around the scientist, mumbling something incoherent and falling back to slumber. Caustic twitches at the the thought. He is internally looking for comfort from another, especially one who cannot reciprocate genuine kindness.
Octavio is not here, though, and Caustic feels alone again. Unsatisfied, the wolf moves to the outside, laying down at his porch and pondering what he should attempt to work on.
There were a few steps in the process of becoming an Apex Legend. First of all, you had to qualify. There were a few additional factors beforehand. You had to be presentable, have a reason for entry, and most of all you had to be marketable as a product. At it's core, the Apex Games was a sport. Legends were assets and they generated income from the games.
Qualifying involved intense practice- learning to work with the equipment and comms, hours of target practice on end. It was considered unethical to send a rookie who had no clue what they were doing into a match with the Legends. It was slaughter, not sport at that point. They liked to pair rookies with a Legend, just as an attempt to balance things out. Gibraltar always took rookies onto his team with no hesitation. Perhaps, one could admire Makoa's open heart, but Caustic knew such actions allowed the weak to survive. They made for easy kills in the future.
After qualifying, you had to survive and become a champion. After that, you were healed, and given a contract. It was an exchange, you became an Apex Legend with all the power, fame, and glory of the title. This was at a cost: you had to sign away the rights to your body. Legends made the agreement to have their bodies scanned, uploaded, and constantly killed. Your memory would be constantly updated, and subconscious replaced into a new body.
Caustic's championship match was well-fought for, as he was paired with Pathfinder and Bangalore. The scientist used his traps to keep the last squad from entering the ring, and gunned them down from inside. Accepting victory was oh so sweet, as Caustic knew it was a new chapter to his life.
It, unfortunately, took him a few matches to fit in properly. Learning to work with a team was difficult, especially when his teammates were always fools.
One defeat always bothered him. It was a victory he should have been able to attain, quite easily. It was inside the circular room of Water Treatment, the scientist had trapped all the doors, carefully sitting still and watching the zipline. His NOX grenade held firm in his hand, ready for use.
It all went wrong, however. Wraith opened the door, setting off his traps, voiding inside and immediately attacking him. His grenade clattered off the edge, wasted uselessly in the floor below, as she lunged and ripped off his mask. She exposed him to his own clouds, knife slamming into his chest and twisting-
Caustic awakes, rolling off his bed in a scramble of limbs and falling onto his shoulder. The wolf hisses, letting out a yelp. He convulses, shoulders racking as he coughs, spitting onto the floor and digging his paws in as he tries to sit up. Caustic wheezes, pain firing through his throat as he struggles to regain his breathing. It takes what feels like minutes, as he wheezes and hyperventilates to get it under control. He finally stands, gas wheezing from his mouth and looking onto his bed.
He expects a speedster to be lying there, still asleep. Octavio was a heavy sleeper, staying awake for hours on end until the daredevil crashed. It takes a moment for the thoughts to register through Caustic's brain. Octavio would have stayed asleep or woken up, put his arms around the scientist, mumbling something incoherent and falling back to slumber. Caustic twitches at the the thought. He is internally looking for comfort from another, especially one who cannot reciprocate genuine kindness.
Octavio is not here, though, and Caustic feels alone again. Unsatisfied, the wolf moves to the outside, laying down at his porch and pondering what he should attempt to work on.
TAGS • PLAYLIST • PENNED BY OWLIE
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