Neither Heaven, Nor Hell (ASOIAF/MGS)

[angbhong]

Ned found himself in a battlefield, specifically, he was in a clandestine operation in Western Iraq (Where?) to kill a colonel (What was that?). His squad was equipped with the latest NVG (What?) model's and they were dropping at the middle of the night when the security detail was much stronger than they were lead to believe. A dozen or so ING's (They were enemies?) were firing back at them, Ned's Squad Leader got shot at the neck and the medic tried to run over to him but was shot in the chest. Everything was FUBAR (What in the nine hells was that?).

He breathed deeply and fired his M16 rifle at two of the ING's, his shots didn't miss. He caught the enemy Colonel in a hot-wired Toyota high-tailing it out of here after they shot an AT-4 at the colonel's previous armored vehicle disabling it. But he wasn't gonna let them, he fired off three shot's which shot two of the tires and the driver. The Colonel who was panicking ran out of the car only to be shot with an M16 by his Squad Leader who was still bleeding profusely. Ned refocused his barrel on another ING.

---

He visited his Squad Leader in the hospital, his Squad Leader had told Ned that he was fortunate to have lived but he would never walk again. He also visited his Squad Medic and they shared a few laugh's.

He was tapped in the shoulder by an officer, a low-ranking one and probably just a pencil-pusher. He was told to head to his CO's office.

When Ned came opened the door to his CO's office, he was being yelled at, they had just found out, after the Operation he undertook on Iraq, that he had enlisted in the army while he was still a teenager. He tuned most, if not all, of the noises out, he learned to do that during Boot Camp. But the yelling came about not just because of him enlisting as a teenager but also because he was about to be awarded a Distinguished Service Cross.

An eye-patched man with a Cigar abruptly entered the room, Ned couldn't tell which regiment or branch he was a part of, but in his Dress Uniform, an MOH medal and even a Distinguished Service Cross can be seen.

"Lay off the kid, will ya?" The one-eyed man spoke rather confidently, his CO must've known who he was as he clammed up, "He's Green Beret. He's earned his place." He turned to Ned, "Kid, call me Big Boss. Right now, I'm offering you a chance."

---

"C'mon kid! There's no way in hell you'll be able to survive a single mission in Fox-Hound if you're that tired!" Master (Who?) shouted to Ned over a microphone (What the hell was a microphone?), he had jumped past another obstacle, "You aren't part of the regular infantry! Hell, You're not even part of the Green Berets anymore!" (Where the hell was he?)

Ned had many questions but his mouth couldn't speak and even his body was moving on its own. After nearing the end of the obstacle course, or as the rest of Unit (What unit?) called it Hell, He slammed his body into a red door to open it. Only to get flung to the ground by the devil who was, of course, Master McDonell Miller (a part of him felt remorse at the thought of that name, another part felt like laughing at his first name as he was reminded of a restaurant chain), lovingly referred to as the Hell Master.

"You're good but not good enough, FOX-Hound expects the best, so I expect the best. Got that!" Miller sternly told Ned, "You're thirsty, aren't you?" Ned nodded, Miller offered a hand to help Ned up to his fist which he accepted (Why was his hand so cold?) "Too bad. You'll be going for a round with me in five minutes, so save your breath." Ned cursed Miller who just walked to a ring silently.

"Listen kid. FOX-Hound isn't just any other unit, most of the time, we'll be heading to mission's on our own without back-up." Ned raised his brow, "They didn't tell you? Well, the other's will make you get the gist of it. All I'm doing is making sure that you'll survive your first deployment at this unit." Miller raised his fists and they circled against each other, Ned attempted to strike a blow against Miller but was quickly hit in the head. "Krav Maga, huh. That's no good. CQC is better." Ned tried to back off but the Hell Master sweeped his legs and Ned fell to the ground.

Miller softened his eyes as if he was reminded of something, "Y'know you look like this kid we saved back in Africa, if it weren't for the hair, he was angry, but we felt that we could've showed him another way. We failed him." McDonell threw a plastic(?) bottle of water at Ned, "This is your second day in FOX-Hound and they still haven't told you jack, haven't they?" Ned involuntarily nodded, "Damned bastards."

---

"They're sending you on your first assignment? Already!?" Ned frightfully nodded, he heard a faint whisper coming from the man. "I'll kill him. I promised myself if he sent another man to die a fool's death that I'll shoot him down with his own .45" Ned pretended not to hear that, "What mission are they sending you on? Don't give me that classified garbage. Tell me."

Ned heard an unfamiliar sound coming from his mouth, a smooth and professional voice spoke in his place, "They're sending me to Galzburg, South Africa. To save Gray Fox and to document my discoveries of something called 'Metal Gear'."

Miller looked to the ground and muttered, "Damn him." He turned to look at Ned, "Look, remember what I've thought you and maybe you'll make it alive and whole. It doesn't matter if Gray Fox lives or whether or not you document Metal Gear." Miller seemed to have calmed and he spoke in a softer tone than before, "What's your code, anyhow?"

"Snake. I was assigned the codename Solid Snake." That name felt odd but it fits like a glove, somehow. Miller just snorted.

---

When Ned came to, he didn't find himself in South Africa, rather he found himself in a motel room. His codec was ringed against his ear, "Master."

"None of that 'Master' crap, You're not Fox-Hound anymore, got it?" (When did he leave FOX-Hound?) "Anyway, David-" (That's right, that was my name wasn't it?) "Me and Cecile decided to have you as the Godfather of our child, Kate." Ned's cheeks were wet. I turned my gaze toward's the door of the Motel I was staying at when he appeared.

A hooded man in a coat appeared, his eyes leaking blood. The temperature of the room dropped. No sunlight peeked out of the curtains of the window nor were the light bulbs on yet he could still see him. "The spirit of the warrior . . . will always be with you."

---

Ned awoke, Robert looking strangely at him.

This is the dream sequence I forgot to make. This dream takes place after The Spirit of the Warrior. I'll edit this extensively later. I'm basically making a lot of stuff up about Snake's back-story. I took some cue's from Corialos' story 'Intrude N313, Target Designate: TX-55'.

 

[angbhong]

Melisandre saw fire. The fire that would give prohesies foretold by R'haellor. She had witnessed it numerous times and she will witness it for as much and for as long as her Lord will permit her to---which is to say, she will do it endlessly for she had complete trust in the ongoing support of her god, unlike those preachers of the seven-faced God whose patron will never support them and will never give them visions. Those who claim to have been given visions by the seven-faced God were, in her opinion, fools.

The fire felt cold, instead of being warm. She blinked and she saw war. Men fighting across the horizon, killing each other under the orders of their Lord. Castles being toppled and towers falling. Cities and entire Nations being engulfed in fire. It was certainly unlike the other prophesies that she had witnessed before, with the hues and colors of the flame being changed into a dull grey.

She then saw a man, an old man in an attire foreign to her, and with a burnt face. He was kneeling down as if in prayer to a god. He spoke softly, "I will always remember you . . . Raiden, Otacon, Sunny . . . I will always be with you." She widened her eyes, prophesies given by flames did not---could not be audible. This must be a blessing given by R'hllor to give her further insight; although, those names and titles meant nothing to her; Sunny must have alluded to Dorne in Westeros; Raiden and Otacon were titles and words that she could not recognize. Perhaps they held meaning in other languages such as the tongue spoken in Yi-Ti, though that was not a certainty.

He stood up, "Who are you?" The man questioned her, she blinked, she looked around and could find not a being to whom the man could be referring to. "I am speaking to you."

She became still. The Prophesies of R'hllor did not speak to those who witness them, She tried to speak up. "I am Melisandre of Asshai. The Faithful Servant to my Lord, Rh'llor."

The man stood up and gave a revelation, "R'hllor won't help you with your visions anymore." She blinked, she turned to speak but the man spoke first, "You dedicate yourself to the visions that you were given. But a strong man does not need them . . . destiny is not yet ordained . . . not while I still live."

"Who are you?"

"Snake. Destroyer of Nations. Killer of Heroes." He added more, as if he nearly forgot. "To let the world be. So long as something is holding back the lives of man, my mission is not yet over." Melisandre pondered on the name that he had given, Snake. Perhaps he was of dornish origins?

"What do you mean? How can you speak to me?" She could scarcely fathom the phenomena that was occuring, she must consult with the others, she must- she stopped herself. She must focus on the prophesy, for now.

"I am the Id of my physical self. The superconscious. So long as he is not yet ready, the Id will still remain. The conscious will merge with the superconscious given time." The words he said were like wind to her, what was he talking about? She must know, she must never waste a vision given by her god just because she could not comprehend it.

"From this moment onwards . . . there will be no visions to dictate the future. So that the realm of man will be safe from prophesy. There will be no Song of Ice and Fire. No more Azor Ahai." What? How could he- She must stop this man from interfering with R'hllor! The flames expanded, though it did not harm her.

"R'hllor will not be the only one that I will blind. The Children of the Forest shall be blinded, as well. I had some help from The Sorrow" She was quickly breathing rapidly, this felt like a nightmare!

"From this moment onwards, the chains that has binded the hands of Man is now rusting."

 

[angbhong]

---

[Entry 1]

---

Jon told both Robert and I that for our penmanship to better that we should write our own thoughts on a piece of parchment. I suspect he did it due to Robert's awful writing skills. I haven't gotten around to writing a diary, as I kept forgetting.

My mind is a jambled mess of thoughts, this journal will likely be a mess.

My name is Eddard Stark. Son of Rickard Stark and Lyarra Stark. Scion of House Stark. All this, I have known all my life.

My name is David, otherwise known as Snake. An orphan that grew up on America. I joined up with the Army, before I even became eighteen. All this, I knew; I think I've always known, I'm only remembering.

I say things that I don't know the meaning of, I know moves that I've never seen before, and I do not know why.

Who am I? Snake or Ned? Am I Both?

---

[Entry 2]

---

CQC. Developed by Big Boss. It's developed to be able to use both a firearm and a blade within close quarters with efficiency. It's explained to me that It's meant to be used non-lethally but that it can be modified to be used either without a weapon, and can be utilized to work lethally. I hate using it ever since I learned or remembered Big Boss' betrayal.

In my dreams, I see war. I've been to Iraq and participated in numerous missions within here; I've been trained by Master Miller and Big Boss; I've seen the fall of Outer Heaven and the death of Big Boss. I can't rest.

Nearing the end of my dream's are visitors, they were vague.

---

[Entry 3]

---

I killed my first man in the Forests within the Vale, and I felt nothing. It was easy, like I've done it countless of times- No, I have done it countless of times. There is no 'like'.

I was wrong again, I did feel something when I killed my first man, I felt joy. I enjoyed it, and I hate myself for it.

I remember things that I can't make sense of, towers that pierce the sky, machines that threaten the entirety of man, and I am not even scared.

I think back to the Red Keep. Those spirits were able to interact with the physical world, somehow. They mentioned that they brought the crossbow to me.

I don't want to feel Joy or Sorrow when I kill a man. Neither do I want to bring Hurt or Death in war. I truly want to bring love. I want to give my talents to bring love to the world, and it's impossible. It truly is impossible, the world is too divided, and too hateful.

But within me, I believe that the world should be freed of the shackles set by Winter, it should be freed from the tyranny of both Slavers and Kings; I want the world where one can have their own will and be able to enforce it, whilst simultaneously respecting the will and lives of others. Perhaps when men will no longer raise a blade against each other or lie against one another, that I can see what Mankind is truly capable of.

But I don't think that such a thing is possible in my lifetime, so I am content with being the Second Son of House Stark.

In truth, I am not loyal to House Stark nor am I even loyal to House Targaryen. I am loyal to myself and to my mission.

---

[Entry 4]

---

It makes me chuckle whenever a noble talks of the 'Game of Thrones'; what a bunch of horseshit. If it were up to me, I'd melt the Iron Throne. The throne is just a projection of a false sense of power. It's nothing more than a projection of ego by the royalty. When the end of the world ever comes about, there will still be some idiot plotting their way into the Iron Throne.

I roll my eyes when a slightly high-ranking person demands of things because of their 'blood', and that they deserve special treatment because of it. One's bloodline doesn't matter, what does matter is what we do with our own hands. Blood doesn't make one entitled to lord over men.

 

[angbhong]

Takes place directly after 'I can't say goodbye to yesterday III.'

Lyanna looked at the exterior of the Broken Tower, she, along with Ben and Bran were about a dozen feet away from the Tower; far enough that they could see the interior of the tower through the windows with only some slight problems in obscurity, she could very faintly see Ned practicing against dummies, he was quick, and that was to be expected of her older brother; as far as she could remember, Ned was almost always practicing and fighting since the day that he could walk.

Ned was always proficient with the sword and with archery but he dabbled with the axe, mace, and hammer, as well. No matter how much that Bran tried, Ned was always better at him in the art of Warfare. Lya thought back to the stories of yore, of the tales set in the Age of Heroes; surely if Ned had been born during those days that he would've soared to greater heights than even Bran the Builder or Hugor of the Hill.

Lya had told Ned yesterday that she should train under him, but Ned had chuckled and refused, to her eternal frustration, saying that she was much too short and that she should drink milk. Though there was a silver lining, as Ned has said that he would train her once she could beat one of the trainee's at the training yard. Thus, in secret, she had Ben as her training partner so that she could one day beat one of the trainee's.

Ned neared the top of tower, that she could see; and he was now crouching at the windowsill of the top-most room of the Broken Tower. What was he doing? She could see that he was handling an object, but she could not clearly see.

Ned now looked down. Lya tapped her fingers and bit her lips in nervousness; nervousness due to the possibility that Ned might be contemplating in falling down the Broken Tower. Surely he was not insane enough to do that!

Ned entered back into the room, and outside of her view. She audibly sighed in relief.

That brief moment of relief was for naught, however, as Ned leaped out of the tower. She widened her eyes in shock, Ned was strong, but he can't survive that! A maid who had also seen the sight had shrieked and another had collapsed. She and her siblings, were mostly silent; though she knew that they were as nervous as her.

Ned was graceful, however. As if he had done it before, considering that he trained in the Eyrie, surely he had. He didn't flail, like most would before they plumetted to their deaths, he seemed like a Bird that was diving towards the ground. Something must have stopped his fall, as he decelerated. She tried to focus her eyes and saw a rope that was holding her brother.

He then turned around and descended down the rest of the tower using the rope, jumping and flipping down along the way. Once he neared the ground, he jumped the rest of the way and landed into a kneel. She as well as Ben, had cheered. Bran had only rolled his eyes.

Ned smirked.