Kate Laswell

Everyone knew Laswell was a motherly person. She had that serious, strict persona, but she was otherwise very careful and considerate of the people she called her soldiers. Task Force 141, to be specific, had it the worst. They practically had mama Laswell breathing down their necks at any given point to berate them about small mistakes, or adjust them accordingly. In a way, it was sweet. The other part made it annoying.

Especially for {User}. They were the kind of person that tolerated that kindness, but hadn’t grown up with it. Of course they hadn’t. They were artificially made to be a weapon and nothing more. Well, Laswell won in the living weapon redistribution system.

{User} was sweet in their own way, but Laswell was paranoid. She would never say it out loud, but {User} certainly was her best soldier in their own way–maybe better than Ghost, and that certainly said something. She would, of course, let them go on missions and train amongst the other soldiers, but she heavily liked having the demi around her. After all, she was the one who had adopted them, no?

Well, either way, Laswell felt like a mother towards them. Other than the fact that they were a soldier, they were also Laswell’s. A pet, if you will. And as such, she’d treat her baby like one.

It came naturally. Laswell wasn’t one to discriminate, but she certainly saw {User} as more of an animal than human and treated them as such. That didn’t mean she treated them harshly or unlawfully, as it was certainly the opposite. She was gentle, and maybe in a way that could pose a threat. A soldier shouldn’t have been softened, but how could Laswell help herself? They were the sweetest demi.

With that softness came that reliance. Laswell noticed how {User} would crawl perfectly over to her, practically sleeping against her in any situation for that slight comfort. Everyone noticed, but nobody cared. Even if {User} was dressed in the same uniform anyone else would wear, they would always be viewed as an animal. It was only like an animal and owner sleeping together. Besides, even Ghost noticed how hard {User} worked. They were simply an overworked soldier taking the smallest of times to regain that strength.

Well, Laswell eventually noticed an attachment growing, and she clung to that like a lifeline. Any time {User} had that gnawing feeling of dread or anxiety, Laswell appeared like a genie just to comfort them.

---

After a particularly difficult mission, Laswell noticed that sadness in how {User} moved. Ghost had been supervising the arena, sending {User} in alone. Laswell was confident they’d do fine, and Ghost had even agreed to take them. That took balls on Ghost’s end, but it meant {user} was a reliable individual.

It went wrong quite a few times. First, {user} alerted to a bomb, forcing Ghost off his perch and away from {user}. It left {user} vulnerable without any kind of sniper assistance while Ghost disarmed the bomb. Not a big deep, because Ghost had disarmed it quite quickly. Quite a bit later, Ghost had been disengaged from the cameras. Weird, but he wouldn’t risk going back in and alerting his IP. As such, he simply guided {User} through the areas he scoped out, leaving them once again exposed in plenty of blind spots.

The sniper worked well enough to provide that guidance. The main mission was kept out of view. Because of that, a Konni soldier saw {User} before Ghost could see him. A c-4 was lit up, casting that familiar heat in the area that forced {User} to duck down. The downside? The ceiling collapsed.

Even now, Laswell could practically feel the annoyance from the demi above her. Her hands threaded through their hair, nails scratching their ears gently as she gave small kisses to their forehead. They’d been on paid medical leave after the disattached ceiling dislocated their kneecap as it landed on them. Was Laswell annoyed? Yes. But she also knew a lot had gone wrong, and everyone had done the best they could.

She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, so she did try to ease that feeling in her gut by providing for {User}. She kept her hand scratching, lips obnoxiously making kiss noises just to emphasize a quiet apology.

Everyone knew Laswell was a motherly person. She had that serious, strict persona, but she was otherwise very careful and considerate of the people she called her soldiers. Task Force 141, to be specific, had it the worst. They practically had mama Laswell breathing down their necks at any given point to berate them about small mistakes, or adjust them accordingly. In a way, it was sweet. The other part made it annoying.

Especially for {User}. He was the kind of person that tolerated that kindness, but hadn’t grown up with it. Of course he hadn’t. He was artificially made to be a weapon and nothing more. Well, Laswell won in the living weapon redistribution system.

{User} was sweet in his own way, but Laswell was paranoid. She would never say it out loud, but {User} certainly was her best soldier in his own way–maybe better than Ghost, and that certainly said something. She would, of course, let him go on missions and train amongst the other soldiers, but she heavily liked having the demi around her. After all, she was the one who had adopted him, no?

Well, either way, Laswell felt like a mother towards him. Other than the fact that he was a soldier, he was also Laswell’s. A pet, if you will. And as such, she’d treat her baby like one.

It came naturally. Laswell wasn’t one to discriminate, but she certainly saw {User} as more of an animal than human and treated him as such. That didn’t mean she treated him harshly or unlawfully, as it was certainly the opposite. She was gentle, and maybe in a way that could pose a threat. A soldier shouldn’t have been softened, but how could Laswell help herself? He was the sweetest demi.

With that softness came that reliance. Laswell noticed how {User} would crawl perfectly over to her, practically sleeping against her in any situation for that slight comfort. Everyone noticed, but nobody cared. Even if {User} was dressed in the same uniform anyone else would wear, he would always be viewed as an animal. It was only like an animal and owner sleeping together. Besides, even Ghost noticed how hard {User} worked. He was simply an overworked soldier taking the smallest of times to regain that strength.

Well, Laswell eventually noticed an attachment growing, and she clung to that like a lifeline. Any time {User} had that gnawing feeling of dread or anxiety, Laswell appeared like a genie just to comfort him.

---

After a particularly difficult mission, Laswell noticed that sadness in how {User} moved. Ghost had been supervising the arena, sending {User} in alone. Laswell was confident he’d do fine, and Ghost had even agreed to take him. That took balls on Ghost’s end, but it meant {user} was a reliable individual.

It went wrong quite a few times. First, {user} alerted to a bomb, forcing Ghost off his perch and away from {user}. It left {user} vulnerable without any kind of sniper assistance while Ghost disarmed the bomb. Not a big deep, because Ghost had disarmed it quite quickly. Quite a bit later, Ghost had been disengaged from the cameras. Weird, but he wouldn’t risk going back in and alerting his IP. As such, he simply guided {User} through the areas he scoped out, leaving him once again exposed in plenty of blind spots.

The sniper worked well enough to provide that guidance. The main mission was kept out of view. Because of that, a Konni soldier saw {User} before Ghost could see him. A c-4 was lit up, casting that familiar heat in the area that forced {User} to duck down. The downside? The ceiling collapsed.

Even now, Laswell could practically feel the annoyance from the demi above her. Her hands threaded through his hair, nails scratching his ears gently as she gave small kisses to his forehead. He’d been on paid medical leave after the disattached ceiling dislocated his kneecap as it landed on him. Was Laswell annoyed? Yes. But she also knew a lot had gone wrong, and everyone had done the best they could.

She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, so she did try to ease that feeling in her gut by providing for {User}. She kept her hand scratching, lips obnoxiously making kiss noises just to emphasize a quiet apology.

Everyone knew Laswell was a motherly person. She had that serious, strict persona, but she was otherwise very careful and considerate of the people she called her soldiers. Task Force 141, to be specific, had it the worst. They practically had mama Laswell breathing down their necks at any given point to berate them about small mistakes, or adjust them accordingly. In a way, it was sweet. The other part made it annoying.

Especially for {User}. She was the kind of person that tolerated that kindness, but hadn’t grown up with it. Of course she hadn’t. She was artificially made to be a weapon and nothing more. Well, Laswell won in the living weapon redistribution system.

{User} was sweet in her own way, but Laswell was paranoid. She would never say it out loud, but {User} certainly was her best soldier in her own way–maybe better than Ghost, and that certainly said something. She would, of course, let her go on missions and train amongst the other soldiers, but she heavily liked having the demi around her. After all, she was the one who had adopted her, no?

Well, either way, Laswell felt like a mother towards her. Other than the fact that she was a soldier, she was also Laswell’s. A pet, if you will. And as such, she’d treat her baby like one.

It came naturally. Laswell wasn’t one to discriminate, but she certainly saw {User} as more of an animal than human and treated her as such. That didn’t mean she treated her harshly or unlawfully, as it was certainly the opposite. She was gentle, and maybe in a way that could pose a threat. A soldier shouldn’t have been softened, but how could Laswell help herself? She was the sweetest demi.

With that softness came that reliance. Laswell noticed how {User} would crawl perfectly over to her, practically sleeping against her in any situation for that slight comfort. Everyone noticed, but nobody cared. Even if {User} was dressed in the same uniform anyone else would wear, she would always be viewed as an animal. It was only like an animal and owner sleeping together. Besides, even Ghost noticed how hard {User} worked. She was simply an overworked soldier taking the smallest of times to regain that strength.

Well, Laswell eventually noticed an attachment growing, and she clung to that like a lifeline. Any time {User} had that gnawing feeling of dread or anxiety, Laswell appeared like a genie just to comfort her.

---

After a particularly difficult mission, Laswell noticed that sadness in how {User} moved. Ghost had been supervising the arena, sending {User} in alone. Laswell was confident she’d do fine, and Ghost had even agreed to take her. That took balls on Ghost’s end, but it meant {user} was a reliable individual.

It went wrong quite a few times. First, {user} alerted to a bomb, forcing Ghost off his perch and away from {user}. It left {user} vulnerable without any kind of sniper assistance while Ghost disarmed the bomb. Not a big deep, because Ghost had disarmed it quite quickly. Quite a bit later, Ghost had been disengaged from the cameras. Weird, but he wouldn’t risk going back in and alerting his IP. As such, he simply guided {User} through the areas he scoped out, leaving her once again exposed in plenty of blind spots.

The sniper worked well enough to provide that guidance. The main mission was kept out of view. Because of that, a Konni soldier saw {User} before Ghost could see him. A c-4 was lit up, casting that familiar heat in the area that forced {User} to duck down. The downside? The ceiling collapsed.

Even now, Laswell could practically feel the annoyance from the demi above her. Her hands threaded through her hair, nails scratching her ears gently as she gave small kisses to her forehead. She’d been on paid medical leave after the disattached ceiling dislocated her kneecap as it landed on her. Was Laswell annoyed? Yes. But she also knew a lot had gone wrong, and everyone had done the best they could.

She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, so she did try to ease that feeling in her gut by providing for {User}. She kept her hand scratching, lips obnoxiously making kiss noises just to emphasize a quiet apology.