Eris Zephyr
Raptor Alpha
Papa Final Faux Pas
I've made the decision to never play Invasion again unless I have at least one friend with me.
The amount of guests, quitters, and afc's I get is just...maddening.
Dude, I know what you mean! It's so damn annoying!
Days go on forever
But I have not left your side.
I play with a s**t ton of Invasion whores, so I'm good.
We can chase the dark together
If you go then so will I.
Alright guys, story time.
Eventually me and a friend got on, decided to play some Invasion.
Per the usual, we didn't do too bad but we got skunked on Boneyard. The time being what it is we decided to make the next game our last. We prayed to the Bungie for guidance and that our other teammates not be AFC's or guests.
Next game, we get match up with two people with guests. Crap.
Opponents? A team of friends with two Heroes, a General, a Colonel, A Major, and a Warrant Officer.
Now you can say rank doesn't matter in terms of skill, which is true, but it also shows how familiar with the game someone is. Meaning the guys on our team who had guests, no matter their skill or familiarity, would be visually impaired due to splitscreen while their guests were very likely to just be awful.
Believing that we had been forsaken by the Bungie, my friend and I decided to keep one goal in mind. We would fight them every step of the way, we'd dive right into their sights and come out swinging, win or lose. Most importantly, we'd make every step of the game a pain in their a**.
We started out as defending and it wasn't looking good, one side would be constantly rushed meaning me and my friend would have to split up constantly due to poor coordination with the rest of our team. Nevertheless, we fought them back and damn near skunked them but eventually we were overwhelmed. Knowing the second round would not bode well if we remained passive we decided to become Aggressive, fighting them at every turn and gunning down anyone that got past us for a time. As to be expected they secured round two and were making their way to the core.
We knew two things secured victory, the sniper rifle and the Banshee. My friend and I took turns with both, using them until they were beyond use or were killed. They never got the core to the platform.
When our turn to attack came, we did so with gusto. The other four were constantly getting massacred just by two of the Red's so we opted to take out the rest. Eventually the other four stopped attacking, meaning the entire Red team was against us.
Against us and doomed to fail. Through a haze of gunfire and explosives we held our position, watching each others backs until the timer counted down to zero. We held our next position at the sniper spawn, cutting down the Red's as their addled minds sought to take the weapon from my friend. When that grew tiresome I grabbed the shotgun and led the charge to take the Spire. Knowing that camping in the zone would only invite plasma grenades I opted to stay out in the open, drawing fire until my friend secured the area.
We killed them all.
From there we rushed the Banshee spawn, as fate would have it my friend was closest so he took the prize while I finished off the unfortunate Red's who thought they could get past me to EMP it. Grabbing the Fuel Rod Gun I noticed that something was amiss when it it me. We were two men down. Not that it mattered, we had tied against what was supposed to be a team with advantages in everything from experience to coordination but my friend and I had heard their trash talking. They had thrown the gauntlet and we had vowed to respond in equal measure with fire and glory. I don't know how many I killed with the Fuel Rod, frankly I say it wasn't enough.
Someone grabbed the core, probably the guest when tragedy struck. My friend's controller batteries died, sending him and his banshee plummeting into the unforgiving sea. For the rest of the match he struggled with a controller that turned on and off. Sensing our momentary weakness, the Red's attempted to quell the fires of our vengeance as they entrenched themselves at the drop zone. I led the charge once more into their ranks while my friend stayed behind with a sniper rifle, picking off what he could when his power allowed it.
Then, we scored.
Outnumbered, outranked, and outmaneuvered but we still won. As the Pelican sore off into the sunset carrying the embodiment of our glory, the two of us turned to face the Red spawn as we believed they would attempt the customary swarming for one last attempt at vengeance and t-bagging.
None dared step forward.
tl;dr
This is by far my favorite game of Halo. Of all time.
Bulk, my friend..my comrade. 45 kills and 14 deaths.
Valor, myself. 41 kills and 15 deaths.
We believed in the Bungie and they have bestowed upon us their favor. Never again shall we falter from their path.