[ He knows where he is. Simmons has been a nerd for far too long not to get this right. These are orcs, actual orcs, talking about Saruman, and oh my god this just has to be Rohan. Unfortunately, even though it makes part of Simmons's stupid fanboy heart sing, being right isn't all that great given what he's right about. Being a prisoner of orcs is authentic to the Middle Earth experience, sure, but oh my god does it suck. Of course Simmons can't just have a cool dream about being in the Lord of the Rings. He supposes it shouldn't surprise him too much, really. It's kind of his lot in life to be so close and yet so far.
At least it's a dream, though. Has to be a dream, right? And that means it's the kind of situation he might just be able to solve if he pays attention. It's not like real life, where stupid and impossible things just happen all the time.
So it was that when they stopped for the night and the prisoners were allowed to drop to the ground, Simmons took a minute to twist his left leg around to confirm one of his suspicions. The orcs hadn't known what to make of him (mostly his armor), and though it means they'd roughed him up more than most of the others (and his robotic arm isn't working so great right now), it also means they missed something.
The problem is between the state of his arm and the bulk of the armor, he can't twist himself enough to reach it.
He's going to have to rely on the person on his left, close enough to whisper to. ]
Hey, how're your hands doing?
E. An Inconvenient Trope
[ During the battle, Simmons wasn't entirely useless. He's discovered something new he can apparently do when he's upset enough: he can manifest golden chains of solid light. He has trouble doing it for long, or consistently, but it was enough to trip up orcs and uruk-hai in the melee. All things considered, that didn't go as badly as it could have.
Now, however, you're both on a raft of flotsam spinning crazily toward a definite cliche: the floodwaters are spilling into one of the open crevasses that lead down into the heart of Orthanc's war machine, a fall neither of you is perhaps likely to survive.
Simmons has an idea, though. ]
I think I can chain thing to that!
[ To aid his shitty descriptive skills, Simmons points with his working arm at a massive siege engine the orcs were building. It's too heavy for the flood waters to shift.
He's only going to have one shot at this. ]
F. I don't have a pun for this one, you're welcome.
[ It's over! You're alive! It's time to celebrate!
...Or to just kind of lay here on top of the scaffolding of an orc war machine. Simmons is doing that as he comes down off the adrenaline and starts noticing how much his entire body hurts.
The worst of it hit the arm without pain receptors, but he's still going to whine a bit anyway. ]
Simmons | Red vs Blue
[ He knows where he is. Simmons has been a nerd for far too long not to get this right. These are orcs, actual orcs, talking about Saruman, and oh my god this just has to be Rohan. Unfortunately, even though it makes part of Simmons's stupid fanboy heart sing, being right isn't all that great given what he's right about. Being a prisoner of orcs is authentic to the Middle Earth experience, sure, but oh my god does it suck. Of course Simmons can't just have a cool dream about being in the Lord of the Rings. He supposes it shouldn't surprise him too much, really. It's kind of his lot in life to be so close and yet so far.
At least it's a dream, though. Has to be a dream, right? And that means it's the kind of situation he might just be able to solve if he pays attention. It's not like real life, where stupid and impossible things just happen all the time.
So it was that when they stopped for the night and the prisoners were allowed to drop to the ground, Simmons took a minute to twist his left leg around to confirm one of his suspicions. The orcs hadn't known what to make of him (mostly his armor), and though it means they'd roughed him up more than most of the others (and his robotic arm isn't working so great right now), it also means they missed something.
The problem is between the state of his arm and the bulk of the armor, he can't twist himself enough to reach it.
He's going to have to rely on the person on his left, close enough to whisper to. ]
Hey, how're your hands doing?
E. An Inconvenient Trope
[ During the battle, Simmons wasn't entirely useless. He's discovered something new he can apparently do when he's upset enough: he can manifest golden chains of solid light. He has trouble doing it for long, or consistently, but it was enough to trip up orcs and uruk-hai in the melee. All things considered, that didn't go as badly as it could have.
Now, however, you're both on a raft of flotsam spinning crazily toward a definite cliche: the floodwaters are spilling into one of the open crevasses that lead down into the heart of Orthanc's war machine, a fall neither of you is perhaps likely to survive.
Simmons has an idea, though. ]
I think I can chain thing to that!
[ To aid his shitty descriptive skills, Simmons points with his working arm at a massive siege engine the orcs were building. It's too heavy for the flood waters to shift.
He's only going to have one shot at this. ]
F. I don't have a pun for this one, you're welcome.
[ It's over! You're alive! It's time to celebrate!
...Or to just kind of lay here on top of the scaffolding of an orc war machine. Simmons is doing that as he comes down off the adrenaline and starts noticing how much his entire body hurts.
The worst of it hit the arm without pain receptors, but he's still going to whine a bit anyway. ]
I can't believe I'm still alive but I'm dead.