Dennis had the dream again. The sleep paralysis one where he sank into the ocean and the water was crystal clear, and he made just enough light to see that there wasn't anything to see, just the black water in all directions. An expanse bottomless yet perfectly spherical, so that a man suspended at its center would be infinitely far from any hope of ever reaching the surface. This is how the men from space feel, he thought. In the moment between the waking dream of spaceflight and the reality of wakefulness inside the floating tomb, when some diagnostic check compels a brief ascent to shore. The presenter tapped the display with a pointer for emphasis. The Third Quarter Projection Analysis Spreadsheets glared down at him from the pane where they were projected on the wall. The Senior Partners murmured and nodded sagely from their seats at the big table. Dennis blinked and acted as though he was awake.
The night Solo Nombre fell, I saw, and heard, things I'll never forget. A city burning horizon to horizon, endless artillery reports and thousands screaming for their lives. But worse of all was the smell. Indescribable. Barbequed meat and hair mixed with petrochemicals and concrete dust. It sticks to your clothes, hair, skin. Your eyes water and you cough your lungs out, but it barely helps. Now I stand on the homeworld of my enemy. A playground for corporate scum, who kill more people with a board meeting and the stock market than a heavy division of Spacers. And as I hunt these war criminals, traitors, cybernetic monsters and Brigadors... I ask myself only this: when will this world, smell like mine?
Waves ebb and flow against a shoreline, set against a fading sunset, dragging blood into the sea. A failing powersuit and a failing body rests within the sands. Breath in, breath out. The water’s warm. The salt hurts, but it barely matters. A fist clenches. Fury and fatigue concentrates within; a failed promise, vengeance left unfulfilled. There were more, surely, yet to fall here was tragedy. At least the Saints smiled. To die on soil, foreign or not, was a mercy. A comfort for someone alone. The fist opens and grasps sand, feeling it ebb and flow, taken with the tide, taken with the blood, all into the long night.
The dull rumble is heard by all. A steady procession which beats into concrete barriers and skimmers hulls. The tune is heard by few. When the mist sets in it floats through, whistling past your ears, tricking your eyes, still makes my head spin when the horizon disappears. It's then I look into the black, both above and below. There's never anything there. Just me, and the waves, and the song of the sea.
I had a strange dream. A young woman is walking through a parking garage, there are no windows and I have no idea what time of day it is, so I'm guessing it's underground. There's also a certain oppressive atmosphere, an instinctual sense of there being little to no chance of escape. The mog comes out of nowhere. This part is sketchy. At one point it comes around a corner, but at another it's waiting around another corner, powered down. Either way, it engages the young woman, who tries to stay out of its view by hiding behind pillars and desperately doubling down the stairwell she just exited through a hail of gunfire, jumping from one flight down to another. It's a dream, so the design of the mog is indistinct, shifting and changing between views. But it's a big boy, and while it never fires the weapon on its right arm and I have no idea what's mounted there, it rakes the environment with the weapon on its left, which are quad mounted bonesaws. Then there's a flash, either back or forward, I can't tell. The same young woman, and though the environment is too indistinct to make out, I have that dreamy sense that it's a court case, or a board of inquiry or some other serious business. She asks a question. "Is it true that you have used test subjects during your research?" The other person is another woman, older. Serious haircut. Serious clothes. Serious corpo demeanor. She responds. I can't make it out clearly, so I only get the general gist of it. They only used animals for testing, rats specifically. I'm very clear on the rat part. There's another flash, certainly back, and the scene changes again. As before the environment is indistinct, but the young woman is there again. It's clear she's trapped, locked up, sitting on the floor of something very much like a rat cage. There are no furnishings. She's much younger this time, maybe adolescent, certainly only on the cusp of adulthood, but I can't tell exactly because she's also slightly malnourished, though not emaciated. Her physical state is obvious because she's naked, clearly uncomfortable and stressed. Thin lines of implants and the surgery required to place them are visible on her body, running down her limbs. She bends forward at the last, a cranial jack visible at the back of her shaven head.
@@zoned7609 The alpha has been out for a couple days, it's possible the guy listened to the entire track on the main menu already and just came here to comment on the TH-cam upload.
"brigador" is set in cassannet bold, color #e8f2fb "killers" is set in Times New Roman Bold Italic color #db214c Japanese text is set in Kozuka Gothic Pro Heavy (H) with the same color as "killers" Details on the glow/drop shadow effects can't fit into a youtube comment but we'll include it in an FAQ
"brigador" is set in cassannet bold, color #e8f2fb "killers" is set in Times New Roman Bold Italic color #db214c Japanese text is set in Kozuka Gothic Pro Heavy (H) with the same color as "killers" Details on the glow/drop shadow effects can't fit into a youtube comment but we'll include it in an FAQ
Dennis had the dream again. The sleep paralysis one where he sank into the ocean and the water was crystal clear, and he made just enough light to see that there wasn't anything to see, just the black water in all directions. An expanse bottomless yet perfectly spherical, so that a man suspended at its center would be infinitely far from any hope of ever reaching the surface.
This is how the men from space feel, he thought. In the moment between the waking dream of spaceflight and the reality of wakefulness inside the floating tomb, when some diagnostic check compels a brief ascent to shore.
The presenter tapped the display with a pointer for emphasis. The Third Quarter Projection Analysis Spreadsheets glared down at him from the pane where they were projected on the wall. The Senior Partners murmured and nodded sagely from their seats at the big table. Dennis blinked and acted as though he was awake.
I scrolled down to look for Dennis lore, was not disappointed. 10/10
Pouring one out for Solo Nobre
Never forget what they did on the long night
The night Solo Nombre fell, I saw, and heard, things I'll never forget. A city burning horizon to horizon, endless artillery reports and thousands screaming for their lives. But worse of all was the smell. Indescribable. Barbequed meat and hair mixed with petrochemicals and concrete dust. It sticks to your clothes, hair, skin. Your eyes water and you cough your lungs out, but it barely helps. Now I stand on the homeworld of my enemy. A playground for corporate scum, who kill more people with a board meeting and the stock market than a heavy division of Spacers. And as I hunt these war criminals, traitors, cybernetic monsters and Brigadors... I ask myself only this: when will this world, smell like mine?
"Plastic melts to flesh, how much synthetics you think SNC suits have?"
Auditor just causally thousand yard staring into my soul...
Those eyes are the last thing a family of farmers who've been cultivating the same small plot of Nobrean land for decades sees
Waves ebb and flow against a shoreline, set against a fading sunset, dragging blood into the sea. A failing powersuit and a failing body rests within the sands. Breath in, breath out. The water’s warm. The salt hurts, but it barely matters.
A fist clenches. Fury and fatigue concentrates within; a failed promise, vengeance left unfulfilled. There were more, surely, yet to fall here was tragedy.
At least the Saints smiled. To die on soil, foreign or not, was a mercy. A comfort for someone alone.
The fist opens and grasps sand, feeling it ebb and flow, taken with the tide, taken with the blood, all into the long night.
Brigador fans turnings into profesional writers the instant they read one weapon description
I'm all for it
this goes beyond hard, it transcends.
a *salve* to MAVS for always making bangers like this
The dull rumble is heard by all. A steady procession which beats into concrete barriers and skimmers hulls.
The tune is heard by few. When the mist sets in it floats through, whistling past your ears, tricking your eyes, still makes my head spin when the horizon disappears.
It's then I look into the black, both above and below. There's never anything there. Just me, and the waves, and the song of the sea.
Auditor looking very cute and cleareyed now
she finally got some sleep, it was a long night
I had a strange dream. A young woman is walking through a parking garage, there are no windows and I have no idea what time of day it is, so I'm guessing it's underground. There's also a certain oppressive atmosphere, an instinctual sense of there being little to no chance of escape. The mog comes out of nowhere. This part is sketchy. At one point it comes around a corner, but at another it's waiting around another corner, powered down. Either way, it engages the young woman, who tries to stay out of its view by hiding behind pillars and desperately doubling down the stairwell she just exited through a hail of gunfire, jumping from one flight down to another. It's a dream, so the design of the mog is indistinct, shifting and changing between views. But it's a big boy, and while it never fires the weapon on its right arm and I have no idea what's mounted there, it rakes the environment with the weapon on its left, which are quad mounted bonesaws.
Then there's a flash, either back or forward, I can't tell. The same young woman, and though the environment is too indistinct to make out, I have that dreamy sense that it's a court case, or a board of inquiry or some other serious business. She asks a question.
"Is it true that you have used test subjects during your research?"
The other person is another woman, older. Serious haircut. Serious clothes. Serious corpo demeanor. She responds. I can't make it out clearly, so I only get the general gist of it. They only used animals for testing, rats specifically. I'm very clear on the rat part.
There's another flash, certainly back, and the scene changes again. As before the environment is indistinct, but the young woman is there again. It's clear she's trapped, locked up, sitting on the floor of something very much like a rat cage. There are no furnishings. She's much younger this time, maybe adolescent, certainly only on the cusp of adulthood, but I can't tell exactly because she's also slightly malnourished, though not emaciated. Her physical state is obvious because she's naked, clearly uncomfortable and stressed. Thin lines of implants and the surgery required to place them are visible on her body, running down her limbs. She bends forward at the last, a cranial jack visible at the back of her shaven head.
YES YES YES MORE BRIGADOR MUSIC
I love the Brigador soundtrack so much! I have been listening to it for weeks now.
cant wait for the new one
SOON IT SHALL BE TIME BROTHERS AND SISTERS. REVENGE FOR SOLO NOBRE!!!
Very impressed by the the first alpha, can't wait to see where the future leads this incredible game!
Glory to Great Leader
@@alexevans6737 truth nuke!
YAAAS I need more! Looking forward to the sequel!
The only thing that separated them from me was vacuum.
They had their fun,
Now it's time for our revenge.
That was a crazy party last night
MAVS informs us that the gig was a good time
If you know, you know
Great track as per usual. Really looking forward to listening to more : )
I love her.
IT'S COMING
This is amazing.
I mean it is but you only listened for 41 seconds when you said this
@@zoned7609 The alpha has been out for a couple days, it's possible the guy listened to the entire track on the main menu already and just came here to comment on the TH-cam upload.
BK Alpha and now this, but ... gimme more more more!
FINALLY LETS GOOO
Which 3 fonts are you guys using for the title?
"brigador" is set in cassannet bold, color #e8f2fb
"killers" is set in Times New Roman Bold Italic color #db214c
Japanese text is set in Kozuka Gothic Pro Heavy (H) with the same color as "killers"
Details on the glow/drop shadow effects can't fit into a youtube comment but we'll include it in an FAQ
@@stellarjockeysofficial Thank you!
like the new wallpaper. bery nice
Another, allez allez
YESSSSS
This reminds me how much i need to approach my wallet to your account to finally buy the game!
KNEEL BEFORE ZED!!!
!!! ZED SPEAKS !!!
LETS GO
WHENNNNNNNNN is it coming out
Choosing weapon setup based on effectiveness - ew
Choose weapons because they are lore friendly with your mech. That's the way to play it
Brigador Horror
Fuck yeah!
what is that font?
"brigador" is set in cassannet bold, color #e8f2fb
"killers" is set in Times New Roman Bold Italic color #db214c
Japanese text is set in Kozuka Gothic Pro Heavy (H) with the same color as "killers"
Details on the glow/drop shadow effects can't fit into a youtube comment but we'll include it in an FAQ