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pluviooc2024-07-19 05:35 pm
pluviosamods) wrote in pluviooc2024-07-19 05:35 pm
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TEST DRIVE 03
TEST DRIVE
Hello, and welcome to the third Pluviosa Test Drive!
This Test Drive corresponds to Days 20-27 in the ship calendar, and will run until around the game's next major event. You can get a better idea what's going on in the most recent Game Update which covers Days 19-27, including the end of our previous event. Because some of the prompts in this test drive have differences based on whether they occur on Days 20-23 or 24 and on, you may wish to choose a firm date for your character's arrival and note it in your top level for other players.
Test Drive threads involving characters who are accepted are considered canon to the events of the game unless otherwise agreed by players/mods. Pluviosa does not do welcome mingle logs nor does it have any kind of in-character welcome information, making your test drive threads your character's arrival to the game setting. That said, mod-run interactions such as formal exploration and/or interactions with the Ship as an NPC are not available on the Test Drive.
It is advised that potential players familiarize themselves with the Premise page, the Rules/Session Zero page, and at least the first few paragraphs of the Setting page. As Pluviosa is a horror game, we especially encourage players to be aware of the content warnings that will be major themes of the game. If you have any further questions, you can ask them on the QUESTIONS header in the comments!
If you're test driving a character, you're welcome to join the game Discord and hang out and meet your fellow players!
Something jerks hard around your stomach, like a movement adruptly stopped. Something trickles through your hair, down the back of your neck - it's warm, and you get the feeling you know what it is.
But when you lift your neck to check, all there is is water. Somehow, counterintuitively, you feel a flash of disappointment. You feel someone's eyes on you...
As characters gain awareness of their surroundings, they will feel as though their head and neck are damp, as though they had just been in a light rain without any protection (even if they are, in fact, wearing a hat or hood). Unless they're particularly unlucky in the location where they wake up, though, the rain is in fact on the outside of the ship, and they are at most subject to humid air. Although the rainstorm in fact ends on Day 23, characters who arrive after that time will still be convinced that there is rain outside, complete with a hallucination of the sound of raindrops in the background, until they go to a window or an open-to-outside place (balconies, topside decks, etc) to check for themselves.
Rain aside, the feeling of being watched is stronger in the upper decks where characters arrive, which may send them seeking to go down instead of up. This might pose a problem in terms of actually making their way to the cleared, prepared-for-use parts of the ship... Especially with all that fresh rainwater breathing new life into the plants in the lower decks.
Note that prior to the rain ending, looking out the windows, glass balcony doors, or up into the domed roof of the passenger lounge will make it appear that the ship is underwater until late afternoon on Day 22. More information on this can be found on the So Below event posts. Additionally, the rainfall hitting the deck of the ship has a tendency to flood into the lower decks of the ship, particularly via the stairways and in rivulets down the hallways. It falls freely on the top deck and down into the open space in the center of the ship, though with less intensity than it does outside the ship's protective barrier.
And while going down decreased the feeling of eyes on you, it brings about other complications. Ghosts have been present on the ship for around a week now, and their time being visible is nearing its end as the ship comes above the old sea-level line on Day 22... At least as far as the longer-term passengers are concerned.
New arrivals, however, will continue to be able to see ghosts haunting the decks for the first 24 hours of their stay onboard the ship, regardless of the exact date of their arrival. These ghosts largely take the form of vacationers and researchers (as described here under the Haunting Feeling and Growing Shadows sections, respectively), and do not respond to attempts to interact with them any more than they did during the event. Less, even - once the ship is above the sea level line (evening of Day 23 and on), the ghosts perform their loops without registering any attempts to communicate with them. No matter what a character does, their attempts to interact with the spirits are for nothing - even standing in their path just gets you walked through as though you weren't there.
However, there are also a few new ghosts who only appear to the new arrivals, and are invisible to characters who were on board the ship previously:
-> A young man in extremely worn clothing, nursing a bruised jaw wanders the upper parts of Fern deck. When he sees the newly arrived character, he says "Oh, not more of this shit," aloud before turning and booking it off in another direction. Characters who chase him will find that he is visible and audible for a decent amount of time, but that his knowledge of the twists and turns of the Ship exceeds theirs and that he is unhindered by any of the overgrown vines as though they weren't there. As such, characters will inevitably fall behind and lose track of him.
-> At night, a dark-skinned woman can be seen in the lounge, looking back and forth between a glowing tablet she's holding and the sky above. If she notices a newly arrived character in the dimmed-to-nearly-nothing, she tells them in a firm voice, "You're not night shift. Go back to bed, you need your rest," before going back to whatever she's doing with her tablet screen. She fades slowly out of sight afterwards.
-> An androgynous person with a nearly-shaved head and a small flower dangling from a green marking over their ear comes out of the communal showers near the cafeteria. They glance around and ask, "Hey, did you see where that new guy with the eyepatch went?" but head off down the hallway without waiting for an answer, scrubbing at their cropped hair with a towel wrapped around their head.
-> A young woman in an open bathrobe with bandages around her middle looks out the back of the ship from the cafeteria deck, sitting with her feet dangling over the edge over where the ship's protective bubble attaches. Her light brown hair is blowing into her face constantly by the cafeteria's slight wind tunnel effect, but she doesn't seem to care, supporting herself by leaning her arms onto the lower rung of the railing. If approached, she gives a tired smile and says, "It's alright. I'm just waiting for that nice angel to come back," and resumes her watch out the back, not responding to any further questions or interactions.
These ghosts do not seem to register the presence of those who have been on board the ship more than 24 hours, even if pointed out directly. New arrivals who attempt to interact with the ghosts will be able to see and hear them, but not touch them. Attempting to touch a ghost in a way that 'proves' that they're not physically there (eg walking through them) causes the ghost to disappear, and they will not reappear.
Of course, the upper floors of the ship are not exactly free of eyes. A rather sizeable fleet of motorized drones zips around the hallways, ranging in size from knee-height to large enough to contain a moderately sized couch. The former are often equipped with scrubbing devices along their undersides, and work hard at portions of the floor in the hallways; the largest are functionally dumpsters on wheels, and other drones with long unfolding arms prune and rip plants from the walls, floors, and even the ceilings to fill them. These top two levels of Fern - not the open deck but the two floors immediately below - are clearly undergoing renovations, and renovations start with getting the plants out of the way. A few are even doing electrical or plumbing work, once things have dried up enough after the rain that it's safe to do so.
Since these are also the primary floors on which new arrivals wake up, it's very difficult to not come across some form of cleaning bot soon after arrival. However, there seems to be something a little... off about the ship's cleaning crew if you're a new arrival. They don't seem to register new arrivals as passengers yet; as a result, new characters may find themselves sprayed down with hot soapy water or subject to a set of surprisingly strong mechanical arms trying to shove them into a dumpster. Even if you aren't actively being aggressed by cleaning bots, they don't provide the kinds of loud "warning: backing up" noises they do for other passengers, nor do they slow down to avoid running you down in the still-mostly-dark hallways. The drones either have very good night vision or have some other way of finding their way around, since the only thing that brings them to a halt is particularly bad patches of floor.
Ship drones will continue to treat new arrivals as part of the walls (at best) or particularly stubborn plants in need of pruning (at worst) until either a light is shined on them - but beware, because this will cause any plants in the area to experience a surge of growth - or another, more known passenger intervenes. Admittedly, at that point the drones will be positively apologetic, as much as robots not equipped with voices can be. Soaked characters will be given a complimentary warm-air drying (if they stick around long enough) and anyone thrown in the dumpsters will be appropriately rescued - but it's still not all that great of a first impression, is it?
Or perhaps it's not the ghost of a person or the drones of the ship that you first encounter. It could be something significantly less civilized.
Strange animals have begun to appear in the ship's jungle - but you'd be forgiven for not noticing them at first. At rest, anyone would dismiss them as strangely shaped bundles of plant matter, because that's exactly what they are. Tails formed out of plaited vines; pelts and feathers formed of interlocked leaves; legs grown out of twisted wood with roots formed into toes. And, occasionally, sharp claws made of bent nails, fangs made of shattered glass, and antlers of rusted pipe, and, always, eyes like black pits that could swallow you up if you stared into them too long.
The 'animals' occupying Fern deck, if they can be called such, are formed out of plant matter with scattered bits of debris from the ship itself. They are, by and large, animals appropriate to the environment of the temperate rainforest that consumes the deck - no elephants or giraffes here. Deer, foxes, the occasional big cat or even a bear, and any number of smaller creatures... Smaller being a relative term, because the animals aren't always to their proper scale relative to humans. A deer might be only knee-high (antlers included), while a squirrel may come up to your waist. On most decks, they're limited to the height of the ceilings above them (9 feet or so), but if you manage to encounter them either on the open upper deck (with its much less height-limited tree canopy) or at the bottom (where the gap in the ship's decks, down the center, leaves lots of space for clearance above the mud and standing water), they could easily be taller.
Most of them are quite skittish, and will bound off into the jungle from which they came and disappear as though they were never there. A handful, though, respond as though threatened - or hungry. And while it might be funny to be stalked through the underbush by a cougar the size of a house cat, it will be less funny if it manages to sink its very real rusty claws into you, and getting trampled by a wooden deer whose antlers scrape the rotten ceiling tiles won't be fun at all.
It is possible to fight the animals, though most will make an attempt to flee if they get the chance, especially if you bring light or fire to bear against them. A 'killed' animal collapses into a pile of plant matter (leaves, branches, vines, etc) with the occasional bit of metal or glass; these heaps don't maintain their form as the 'body' of an animal and don't seem to have been connected together in any way. If lit on fire or otherwise affected by supernatural abilities, the animals react to this as an animal would be expected to, but their bodies are affected in ways consistent with the plant matter they're made of. In addition, no attempts at animal communication will work on them. On the other side of the coin, if you attempt to flee from them, most won't bother to give chase.
This Test Drive corresponds to Days 20-27 in the ship calendar, and will run until around the game's next major event. You can get a better idea what's going on in the most recent Game Update which covers Days 19-27, including the end of our previous event. Because some of the prompts in this test drive have differences based on whether they occur on Days 20-23 or 24 and on, you may wish to choose a firm date for your character's arrival and note it in your top level for other players.
Test Drive threads involving characters who are accepted are considered canon to the events of the game unless otherwise agreed by players/mods. Pluviosa does not do welcome mingle logs nor does it have any kind of in-character welcome information, making your test drive threads your character's arrival to the game setting. That said, mod-run interactions such as formal exploration and/or interactions with the Ship as an NPC are not available on the Test Drive.
It is advised that potential players familiarize themselves with the Premise page, the Rules/Session Zero page, and at least the first few paragraphs of the Setting page. As Pluviosa is a horror game, we especially encourage players to be aware of the content warnings that will be major themes of the game. If you have any further questions, you can ask them on the QUESTIONS header in the comments!
If you're test driving a character, you're welcome to join the game Discord and hang out and meet your fellow players!
ARRIVAL - GAZE FROM THE CLOUDS
Something jerks hard around your stomach, like a movement adruptly stopped. Something trickles through your hair, down the back of your neck - it's warm, and you get the feeling you know what it is.
But when you lift your neck to check, all there is is water. Somehow, counterintuitively, you feel a flash of disappointment. You feel someone's eyes on you...
As characters gain awareness of their surroundings, they will feel as though their head and neck are damp, as though they had just been in a light rain without any protection (even if they are, in fact, wearing a hat or hood). Unless they're particularly unlucky in the location where they wake up, though, the rain is in fact on the outside of the ship, and they are at most subject to humid air. Although the rainstorm in fact ends on Day 23, characters who arrive after that time will still be convinced that there is rain outside, complete with a hallucination of the sound of raindrops in the background, until they go to a window or an open-to-outside place (balconies, topside decks, etc) to check for themselves.
Rain aside, the feeling of being watched is stronger in the upper decks where characters arrive, which may send them seeking to go down instead of up. This might pose a problem in terms of actually making their way to the cleared, prepared-for-use parts of the ship... Especially with all that fresh rainwater breathing new life into the plants in the lower decks.
Note that prior to the rain ending, looking out the windows, glass balcony doors, or up into the domed roof of the passenger lounge will make it appear that the ship is underwater until late afternoon on Day 22. More information on this can be found on the So Below event posts. Additionally, the rainfall hitting the deck of the ship has a tendency to flood into the lower decks of the ship, particularly via the stairways and in rivulets down the hallways. It falls freely on the top deck and down into the open space in the center of the ship, though with less intensity than it does outside the ship's protective barrier.
SOMEBODY'S FOOTSTEPS
And while going down decreased the feeling of eyes on you, it brings about other complications. Ghosts have been present on the ship for around a week now, and their time being visible is nearing its end as the ship comes above the old sea-level line on Day 22... At least as far as the longer-term passengers are concerned.
New arrivals, however, will continue to be able to see ghosts haunting the decks for the first 24 hours of their stay onboard the ship, regardless of the exact date of their arrival. These ghosts largely take the form of vacationers and researchers (as described here under the Haunting Feeling and Growing Shadows sections, respectively), and do not respond to attempts to interact with them any more than they did during the event. Less, even - once the ship is above the sea level line (evening of Day 23 and on), the ghosts perform their loops without registering any attempts to communicate with them. No matter what a character does, their attempts to interact with the spirits are for nothing - even standing in their path just gets you walked through as though you weren't there.
However, there are also a few new ghosts who only appear to the new arrivals, and are invisible to characters who were on board the ship previously:
-> A young man in extremely worn clothing, nursing a bruised jaw wanders the upper parts of Fern deck. When he sees the newly arrived character, he says "Oh, not more of this shit," aloud before turning and booking it off in another direction. Characters who chase him will find that he is visible and audible for a decent amount of time, but that his knowledge of the twists and turns of the Ship exceeds theirs and that he is unhindered by any of the overgrown vines as though they weren't there. As such, characters will inevitably fall behind and lose track of him.
-> At night, a dark-skinned woman can be seen in the lounge, looking back and forth between a glowing tablet she's holding and the sky above. If she notices a newly arrived character in the dimmed-to-nearly-nothing, she tells them in a firm voice, "You're not night shift. Go back to bed, you need your rest," before going back to whatever she's doing with her tablet screen. She fades slowly out of sight afterwards.
-> An androgynous person with a nearly-shaved head and a small flower dangling from a green marking over their ear comes out of the communal showers near the cafeteria. They glance around and ask, "Hey, did you see where that new guy with the eyepatch went?" but head off down the hallway without waiting for an answer, scrubbing at their cropped hair with a towel wrapped around their head.
-> A young woman in an open bathrobe with bandages around her middle looks out the back of the ship from the cafeteria deck, sitting with her feet dangling over the edge over where the ship's protective bubble attaches. Her light brown hair is blowing into her face constantly by the cafeteria's slight wind tunnel effect, but she doesn't seem to care, supporting herself by leaning her arms onto the lower rung of the railing. If approached, she gives a tired smile and says, "It's alright. I'm just waiting for that nice angel to come back," and resumes her watch out the back, not responding to any further questions or interactions.
These ghosts do not seem to register the presence of those who have been on board the ship more than 24 hours, even if pointed out directly. New arrivals who attempt to interact with the ghosts will be able to see and hear them, but not touch them. Attempting to touch a ghost in a way that 'proves' that they're not physically there (eg walking through them) causes the ghost to disappear, and they will not reappear.
JUST ANOTHER WORKDAY
Of course, the upper floors of the ship are not exactly free of eyes. A rather sizeable fleet of motorized drones zips around the hallways, ranging in size from knee-height to large enough to contain a moderately sized couch. The former are often equipped with scrubbing devices along their undersides, and work hard at portions of the floor in the hallways; the largest are functionally dumpsters on wheels, and other drones with long unfolding arms prune and rip plants from the walls, floors, and even the ceilings to fill them. These top two levels of Fern - not the open deck but the two floors immediately below - are clearly undergoing renovations, and renovations start with getting the plants out of the way. A few are even doing electrical or plumbing work, once things have dried up enough after the rain that it's safe to do so.
Since these are also the primary floors on which new arrivals wake up, it's very difficult to not come across some form of cleaning bot soon after arrival. However, there seems to be something a little... off about the ship's cleaning crew if you're a new arrival. They don't seem to register new arrivals as passengers yet; as a result, new characters may find themselves sprayed down with hot soapy water or subject to a set of surprisingly strong mechanical arms trying to shove them into a dumpster. Even if you aren't actively being aggressed by cleaning bots, they don't provide the kinds of loud "warning: backing up" noises they do for other passengers, nor do they slow down to avoid running you down in the still-mostly-dark hallways. The drones either have very good night vision or have some other way of finding their way around, since the only thing that brings them to a halt is particularly bad patches of floor.
Ship drones will continue to treat new arrivals as part of the walls (at best) or particularly stubborn plants in need of pruning (at worst) until either a light is shined on them - but beware, because this will cause any plants in the area to experience a surge of growth - or another, more known passenger intervenes. Admittedly, at that point the drones will be positively apologetic, as much as robots not equipped with voices can be. Soaked characters will be given a complimentary warm-air drying (if they stick around long enough) and anyone thrown in the dumpsters will be appropriately rescued - but it's still not all that great of a first impression, is it?
IDEAL CAMOUFLAGE
Or perhaps it's not the ghost of a person or the drones of the ship that you first encounter. It could be something significantly less civilized.
Strange animals have begun to appear in the ship's jungle - but you'd be forgiven for not noticing them at first. At rest, anyone would dismiss them as strangely shaped bundles of plant matter, because that's exactly what they are. Tails formed out of plaited vines; pelts and feathers formed of interlocked leaves; legs grown out of twisted wood with roots formed into toes. And, occasionally, sharp claws made of bent nails, fangs made of shattered glass, and antlers of rusted pipe, and, always, eyes like black pits that could swallow you up if you stared into them too long.
The 'animals' occupying Fern deck, if they can be called such, are formed out of plant matter with scattered bits of debris from the ship itself. They are, by and large, animals appropriate to the environment of the temperate rainforest that consumes the deck - no elephants or giraffes here. Deer, foxes, the occasional big cat or even a bear, and any number of smaller creatures... Smaller being a relative term, because the animals aren't always to their proper scale relative to humans. A deer might be only knee-high (antlers included), while a squirrel may come up to your waist. On most decks, they're limited to the height of the ceilings above them (9 feet or so), but if you manage to encounter them either on the open upper deck (with its much less height-limited tree canopy) or at the bottom (where the gap in the ship's decks, down the center, leaves lots of space for clearance above the mud and standing water), they could easily be taller.
Most of them are quite skittish, and will bound off into the jungle from which they came and disappear as though they were never there. A handful, though, respond as though threatened - or hungry. And while it might be funny to be stalked through the underbush by a cougar the size of a house cat, it will be less funny if it manages to sink its very real rusty claws into you, and getting trampled by a wooden deer whose antlers scrape the rotten ceiling tiles won't be fun at all.
It is possible to fight the animals, though most will make an attempt to flee if they get the chance, especially if you bring light or fire to bear against them. A 'killed' animal collapses into a pile of plant matter (leaves, branches, vines, etc) with the occasional bit of metal or glass; these heaps don't maintain their form as the 'body' of an animal and don't seem to have been connected together in any way. If lit on fire or otherwise affected by supernatural abilities, the animals react to this as an animal would be expected to, but their bodies are affected in ways consistent with the plant matter they're made of. In addition, no attempts at animal communication will work on them. On the other side of the coin, if you attempt to flee from them, most won't bother to give chase.
Flamebringer | Arknights
Flamebringer's eyes fly open as he feels his body abruptly jerk, like a car or a ship slowing down abruptly, the all too familiar sensation of blood running down the back of his neck-
Crap, what had happened?! was he injured-
He reaches a hand back and feels. Nothing. Just the warmth of his own skin and his fingers brushing the edge of the hardened black spots that decorated the side of his neck.
Huh... pulling his hand back he stares at his palm. Its dry. No blood. Not even water. Even though he feels like he's been walking through the rain. He feels... disappointed.
He grits his teeth. Why would he be disappointed? That was less LMD he had to spend on bandages or medicines. This made no sense.
His tail twitched slightly as he finally registered a very different... and familiar sensation.
Something, or Somebody, had eyes on him. He wasn't alone.
Years of experience dealing with hostile gazes stayed his hand even though he wished to settled it reassuringly on his katana. It'd do no good to appear threatening if it was just some stranger who was smart enough to be on their guard. Or if it was something less friendly that would take that as a reason to put him down while he was at a disadvantage.
He forced himself to take a long, and measured breath.
Right.
He didn't know how he'd gotten here. One of the Doctor's plans maybe. If that's how it was, something had gone wrong. He didn't know where this was, or why he was here. That enough was good reason to have his guard up.
He quietly sighed to just himself. He started down the hall. First things first... he needed to figure out how hostile that gaze was. And if he could lose it's attention in this place.
[Somebody's Footsteps]
Flamebringer finds a staircase and takes it down. The sensation of somebody watching him grows weaker, but doesn't disappear. Purposely maintaining a casual, relaxed pace, hands in his pockets he continues to wander until he finds another staircase and decides again to take it down once again.
The sensation disappears entirely the moment his boots hit the bottom of the steps and he looks back over his shoulder bewildered. The timing was almost too perfect. What the heck was going on?
He continues to squint up at the top of the staircase for a minute longer, before shaking his head. Testing whatever, or whoever it was, was probably a bad idea.
Wandering further on this new level of whatever complex this was, only brought up more questions. He was seeing, people. Translucent people. Ghosts.
Flamebringer wasn't the superstitious type, but there were too many strange phenomenons in the world for him to disregard what he was seeing as a hallucination or something else.
He takes a cautious step forward into the crowd. None of them look his way, none of them even acknowledge his presence. He should be happy about that. It just makes his skin crawl.
He slowly makes his way through the crowd, looking at the different faces he saw. Some of them were dressed like civilians... some of them reminded him of the scientific and medical staff aboard Rhodes Island. None of it answered the questions of where he was and what was going on.
Refocusing his gaze on where he was going he yelped, "H-hey!" right before a guy walked straight through him.
It didn't feel like anything, nothing happened. Whipping around the guy was just continuing on his way, acting like he hadn't just completely passed through another human being. Flamebringer put a hand to his own chest just to feel that he was still solid to himself, his heart racing. Crap. Whatever was going on here. He'd had enough of it.
He found himself in a space that looked like a cafeteria. More ghosts were milling about. He ignored them. Except, there was one ghost, a woman, sitting at the edge, feet hanging out from under the railing, looking to all the world content to mind her own business despite how weird it was for her to be sitting so casually on the floor in that exact spot.
He stared for a minute, and started to turn away... ugh. Fine.
He made his way over, until he stood over her. Two things he noticed: she was in a bathrobe, which was really strange for a public spot like this. And below the bathrobe there were bandages. She'd been hurt.
"Hey. Lady. What are you doing here?" He asked.
She didn't startle, so she'd probably heard him coming. She turns to look up at him, expression tired, but she smiled at him anyways, "It's alright. I'm just waiting for that nice angel to come back," she states, then returns to looking out into the distance.
"Okay." fine, none of his business, although he did make a mental note of 'angel', could be a Sankta running around, "Whats this place then?"
She doesn't respond.
"Hey. Hey. I'm still talking to you."
Nothing.
"Hey," He reaches out to gently shake her shoulder, annoyed.
The moment his hand 'connects' with her shoulder, she vanishes. His fingers curl back and he takes a startled step back.
"Crap. Thats-" He hisses to himself, cutting himself off as every instinct he had told him this was a bad, bad place to be. What the heck was going on?!
[Ideal Camouflage]
Wired and on edge after his encounter with the ghosts, Flamebringer lets his feet carrying him down the halls and away from whatever that was. He didn't want anything to do with it. He wasn't somebody who was all that interested in mystic crap, and he didn't intend to start now.
Eventually he found himself in place strangely dense with plant life.
It was dumb, but the sight of greenery after all the hard metal walls, and the inexplicable ghosts, made his shoulders relax and he slowed down to look at the vines surrounding him and the other plants.
So this place was abandoned, he guessed. Nobody in their right mind would let this much greenery get out of control in a building... then again it wasn't like there weren't plenty of people who weren't in their right mind.
He walked deeper in, still keeping a weary eye out. Just because he was free of the weird stuff from before didn't mean he was safe.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement. Something else was here.
He slowly turned to face it. No sudden moves.
At first he didn't spot anything... but then he saw it. A... beast. He wasn't sure what it was. He hadn't seen anything like it before ((its a cougar)). It was moving with grace in the shadows, watching him.
Even if he didn't know what it was, he recognized the stance of a predator, and he slowly moved his hand to his katana. Grinning despite himself. Finally. Something he could handle on his own terms.
The beast realized it had been spotted, and pounced.
Flamebringer dodged out of the way with a hiss, minding his footing on the uneven ground. The beast landed and immediately whipped around to try again, but this time Flamebringer had the advantage.
With a flash he drew his katana, sword meeting foe mid-air in a violent clash that sent his opponent flying back and crashing back into the jungle floor.
Dashing over he raised his sword to stab it again, he didn't know what it was, and he wasn't risking it taking another shot at him-
He halted as he stood over it. There was no longer a beast. Just a pile of vines, leaves, and some jagged pieces of metal strewn in the pile.
He stepped back, stomach dropping and his sense of danger returned. The pile of debris vaguely resembled the beast he'd been fighting before, but it no longer held any of the life or structure.
What on Terra was GOING ON?!
There's the crunch of a footstep behind him and he whirls around, blade still in hand coming up to point at whoever approached him, eyes wide and wild, aura that of one who wouldn't hesitate to defend himself, or even kill, if given the excuse.
Camoflauge (May I offer you an angle in this trying time)
His posture stiffens, his hand resting on his gun. He is ready to draw it at a moment's notice.
And draw it he does, when he comes upon a wider area and a clearing, and someone standing in the center, crouched over a pile of plant matter. They must hear him, because they whirl on him, eyes ablaze with adrenaline, their tail lashing. Executor levels his weapon on the threat in a flash, eyes narrowed as he takes in the details, possible weaknesses, possible-
A thin black tail. Black horns...and patches of black stone on his skin. A face he knows. Not well, but...it's familiar. He's worked with him at Rhodes Island, run operations with him before. He knows this person. A sarkaz. An Operator.
Executor's eyes widen near imperceptibly, hard to notice if you don't know what to look for. He drops the barrel of his gun to point it towards the ground, his mind fighting back a strange haze to run through operator records he'd memorized, searching for a name. Ah.
"Operator Flamebringer?" he asks, stunned. Well, as stunned as someone like Executor Federico could be. It possibly is the most emotion that Flamebringer's ever heard from the usually stoic man.
Devil to yuor Angle
Sankta
CRAP. He'd guessed right with the ghost lady.
He stays completely still, muscles taut with the desire to move, only for it to abruptly lower seconds later.
Flamebringer doesn't give them the chance to raise it again.
He rams into them bodily, knocking them down onto the ground, rolling off, and coming up on one knee. He thrusts his arm forward holding his katana to their neck.
All things considered he had no personal interest in spilling sankta blood. But he wasn't going to just let them blast his skull open. Not without fighting back.
Breathing heavily he gets a good look at his attacker and-
He blinks.
"Angel face?!" he says incredulously. Raising his blade slightly, but only slightly. He growls, "What gives? I thought we were both working for Rhodes."
A new angle indeed!! From the floor.
What...?
He needs to move. He needs to defend himself--
His environment is swirling violently around him, disorienting him greatly. His lungs spasm with the impact, wheezing and near coughing to pull in more air. He should be able to recover from something like this. He should. What is...what's happening?? Did Flamebringer have some arts he did not know about...?
It's cold, on the ground, the blade at his throat. Executor manages to lay still, to prove he's not a threat, but he distantly realizes he's starting to shiver. Strange. Flamebringer is meant to be adept with fire...so why is it cold?
Confused, foggy eyes blink up at the sarkaz when Executor feels the metal draw away a little. "That is...not my name. Nor is it my codename..." he replies, still working to recover his breath. "But you are...correct. We both...are contracted with Rhodes Island. However we are not...there. I am sure you have noticed..." His brow furrows slightly, his vision starting to clear. "I apologize for...pointing my gun at...at you. I did not recognize you until...until I did. I had assumed you were...a threat." Which, technically, has been proved true, but...Flamebringer has proven to be reasonable, time and again. This social blunder will pass...
He hopes.
Does the ground taste good little angel
Shoot he'd rather not. The Executor Ex Foedere had always been fine around him. He wouldn't call them chummy, but they were efficient enough together on a team. And he'd rather not have a Laterano saint write back to home complaining about a sarkaz given head injury. It'd make his life more complicated than he'd like.
He's breathing pretty hard as well, almost breaking into a coughing fit, but that's pretty normal after having somebody ram you in the stomach. And knock you flat on your back. In the interest of not setting any kind of possible diplomacy between them on fire immediately he does not smirk at that.
Eventually he makes solid eye contact, and well. The Ex Foedere had a difficult face to read, and that wasn't just Flamebringer not giving a crap. Rumors in the halls of Rhodes confirmed it was a universal struggle.
"That is... not my name."
Flamebringer rolls his eyes. Okay. Well. One thing confirmed. This is the Ex Foedere he's familiar with. He had a funny order of priorities for a guy with a katana at his throat.
Flamebringer's eyes narrowed, sword dropping a little lower. They weren't there no. But pointing it out right at this moment sounded more like a threat than anything. Still... he let Executor continue.
His expression doesn't change, but the apology catches him a little off guard. They... haven't worked together much. Just a handful of deployments. He wasn't even sure if them being on the same team was ever intentional, or if it just happened to work out that way. Still he hadn't really expected Executor to own up to making a mistake.
"I has assumed you were... a threat."
Flamebringer's eyes narrow again and his lips thin. But still he hesitates to make any comment or move. Executor had backed off. That's what gave him the opening to knock him down in the first place. And given the Ex Foedere's track record, this made more sense then him actually trying to end Flamebringer's life.
He stays a minute longer, staring into those cold, gray-blue eyes. He sighs. He moves his knee off of Executor's chest, planting it on the ground and standing up. He still holds his blade pointing at the sankta's neck, but he backs off enough that Executor could easily stand without interference.
If the Ex Foedere decided to go for his guns Flamebringer might still be finished. His arts could burn Executor from the inside out first, or the draw of the sankta could be faster. He didn't know. This was a risk.
But right now the Ex Foedere knew more than he did. And it rubbed Flamebringer the wrong way to execute him (ha) so mercilessly when between their, small, history and his explanation he was at least half certain it'd be fine.
"Alright then, Angel face." He said, voice low, almost more if talking to himself then Executor.
No it tastes like dirt :/ (when they said touch grass idk if this is what they meant)
Persuasion check accidently passed - Flamebringer now knows this is indeed, angel face.
Bruh you will not believe the rolls I'm getting here
Flamebringer's sorta playing nice now. Sorta
It took me 5000 years but Fedi is now trying to shorten things. Ehe
Footsteps (Me again; hey you, you could use a snickers probably)
No floods. Everyone's okay. He's okay. It's nice to just be for awhile.
Except someone else is also. Being in the cafeteria today. To Aventurine's knowledge, this guy is one he's not seen before. So that's new. He's seen some odd types, but the tail and horns are...something he's not seen before on one of the passengers. But also the guy seems to be talking to himself...or something he's seeing near the railing of the deck.
He keeps a close eye on the newcomer, not able to rule out all possibilities of possessions and hauntings quite yet. Who knows how the ghosts would work with new arrivals?
And then the man shouts at empty space, looking startled and frustrated and very confused. Aventurine stifles a snicker, and sighs. He waves cheerily if the guy looks in his direction at all. "Hey there! You look a bit lost," he chirps helpfully, not getting up to move from his seat at the table. He's too tired and comfey. His hands still ache with healing scabs, and he's enjoying the warmth from the coffee mug through the bandages. "I dunno what you were doing just now, but you look like you need a snack. Why don't you have a seat?" Aventurine says, gesturing to the chair across from him, giving his best 'I don't bite~' smile he can. He's totally trustworthy, promise.
((Small note. He can't see the ghosts Flamebringer is seeing right now. Do with that what you will :) ))
You'd have to give him a whole bag my dude
As more people move out of the way he sees a person. Blonde, small, couldn't tell what their build was like under the big coat they're wearing. He's got a smile on his face and his eyes are in a content half lidded expression, he doesn't appear worried about the ghosts at all.
And he offers Flamebringer a seat.
Flamebringer's eyes narrow.
The man didn't seem bothered by the ghosts at all, no. His expression seemed content and calm... but there was something else there. Something that put Flamebringer on edge.
For somebody to be surrounded by the dead and to not care at all... could mean it was their fault everybody was dead.
Flamebringer straightens, lowering his katana, but not sheathing it yet. He walks over, and stands at the table, but doesn't sit down, he stares down at the man, glare fierce, and almost burning.
"Who are you?" He asks, fairly even tone despite the raw hostility that was rolling off of him.
I would but he has to put the sword away first LMAO
Can't really blame him though...this place can be extremely unsettling in many ways. And after the week he himself had...yeah. Makes sense.
Aventurine keeps calm and still even if someone approaching him with a blade makes his heart beat a little faster, and his legs tense to run. It's not raised at him, but it sure is in the guy's hand. And he certainly moves like he knows how to use it.
He keeps smiling, even as the guy demands his identification, posture and demeanor smoldering with suspicion and hostility.
"Kinda blunt, huh? I can work with that," he hums, taking a sip of his coffee before it gets cold. And possibly to take a little longer to respond...just for fun.
"You can call me Aventurine. I'm an assistant manager for the strategic investment department of the IPC, but...I imagine that doesn't mean much to you. Which is fine, we're all from vastly different places here," he says, shrugging. He could explain that but might as well not reveal his whole hand just yet.
He eyes the man's horns, and the tail he'd seen... "And you? Are you perhaps a type of Vidyadhara? I haven't seen one with a tail like that but you never know." He highly doubts it, but he wants to ask anyway, sue him. He's curious!
Tough challange, he keeps giving him reasons to hold onto it. AKA Flamebringer: His vibes are Rancid
"It gets business over with." He grunts.
The guy sure is content to take his time. If he's trying to make Flamebringer uneasy by doing so, well he's succeeded. But he was no stranger to playing games. He'd wait. He knew how to be patient.
Flamebringer tilts his head, eyes narrowing minutely, "No. No it doesn't." Sounded professional. Maybe he had guessed right, and this guy had some authority and therefore, power, over this place. Although if he was a guy in authority, he sure did dress casual for it.
He was withholding information that was for sure. He had the energy of somebody who held all the cards, and was having a little too much fun revealing them as slowly as he pleased. It made Flamebringer's skin crawl. People could call Flamebringer what they wanted, but he at least was straightforward. He hated the seedy merchant types, always trying to get more. This guy would fit right in.
He didn't move to threaten. But if he ever so subtly shifted his posture to let the light bounce off the recently sharpened edge of his katana... Well, nobody could prove anything.
"...'Vidyadhara'?" He asks. That was a new one. And it didn't sound like an insult. Actually it sounded like the most genuine thing out of this guy's mouth so far. His tail flicks behind him, "...I've been called many things. But that's a new one." his eyes narrow, "What's it to you, what I am?" If the guy was interested in killing sarkaz, he'd think he'd recognize one when he saw one. Flamebringer was more interested in why he bothered to ask if he had nothing to gain or lose by doing so.
Whaaaaat he's just having a friendly chat, nothing more :)
To the man who wants to chat the least. Got his name tho.
Oh yay! Aven is being a little less insufferble now with it :D
An unexpected outcome
I love getting a good grade in social interactions, which is totally normal and possible to achie-
[TERMINAL ILLNESS TW] Flamebringer once again issues an extremely sad and concerning vibe check
OH sweetie. Oh honey. I'm so sorry.
(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ finger guns
Camoflage
So when the man turns and points a sword at him, he just flicks his eyes from the sword to the man's face. "You can put that down. I'm unarmed and even if I was, I think I'd probably hurt myself more than you." There's a hint of a shake to his voice, but he's still staring the man down.
For his part, he's just got his hands in his jeans pockets. He pulls them out and shows the other - see? No weapon. "If you still want to kill me after that, that's up to you. I wouldn't be able to stop oyou."
Hey there half pint
Flamebringer's guard doesn't lower despite the shake in the kid's voice, his katana still held ready, eyes narrowing at the declaration of being unarmed, and the show of the boy's hands.
"Awfully gracious of you," He says, unfortunately he was more than desensitized to people throwing their lives away easily, "But sorry kid. I'm not stupid enough to fold just because you don't have a physical weapon." Plenty of people had arts, or oriopathy, that let them do far worse than any blade could do, "What did you sneak up on me for? If you're so unarmed, why are you wandering out here where its dangerous?" Given good enough of an excuse, he might be swayed to listen. Young as the kid was... he'd rather not have to get his blood on his hands.
Sadly a half pint already taller than his player...
... He's better with shore plants and seaweed, anyway. "And I heard a noise so I came to investigate it, only to find you killing it. ... I'd have liked to study it more, but it looked like it was trying to kill you so it probably wouldn't have held still long enough to study anyway." He eyes the sword again.
It's... it does look really sharp. And like something out of an anime. Maki and her father would have loved to see it. ... Why does his heart hurt? It's not like he has strong feeling towards Maki. Ugh. His face pulls into a scowl and he huffs. "But if you're gonna kill me, then kill me. I can't stop it, and I'd rather it be quick this time anyway."
Flamebringer could pick him up like Hamburger (Oh noooo, my condolences x'D) [SUICIDE MENTION]
Flamebringer smirks slightly despite himself, "So you're a brat." Smart kid though. Besides wandering into a place like this supposedly unarmed. And there were other people around?... Good to know.
Flamebringer's head twitches slightly towards the sad pile of debris he left behind, but he keeps his gaze focused on the kid, "Yeah sorry, it wasn't exactly up for playing games." There isn't an ounce of sympathy in his bones for that being. He didn't like unnecessarily killing beasts, but that didn't seem to be any kind of beast.
He watches the kid's eyes drift nervously back to the tip of his sword, fear in his eyes... and also... hm. For a kid who was so ready to die he was awfully nervous about the katana pointed at him.
Flamebringer stares at him a minute longer, contemplating... the kid had been pretty forward. And all his criticisms aside... it wasn't like he himself had known this area was dangerous before he wandered in. And if he was lost he could be pretty sure some kid like this was too.
...Screw him. Screw this. He wasn't in the mood to kill a kid. Not that he ever was. He'd keep an eye out and if the brat decided to pull a fast one on him he could always burn him to cinders or slice him in half.
"You're awfully forward about being suicidal," He states, efficiently sheathing his blade without any fanfare, "Try to fix that. Its kind of pathetic." despite the acidity of his words his tone is... surprisingly even... not gentle. But not unkind.
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Camoflague!!!
In a clearing she finds- oh. A person, who smells faintly of fire and sweat and the will to fight. Like her Emil...except much taller, and darker. He stabs a troll-not-troll with a very big knife, and it turns into vines. A fighter. Strong. She can report to this one--
Before the snapping branches, she smells more plant-rot. Dead-not-dead-strange-BAD-prowling closer. Her fur stands up on end and she growls, hissing loudly. "Psssh!!! Mraur!!" she warns. Something is here! It will hurt you! Look out! She's standing on her toes, not taking her eyes off the thing, starting to edge in the person's direction...
rescue kitty!!!!
Its. That's. Its not a plant beast, its an actual beast, and its not yelling at him, its yelling at-
His heart jumps and he spins on his heel-
Something crashes into him and he's completely knocked off of his feet. His back and shoulders crash into the, thankfully, pretty cushioned ground due to all the plant life, but he's stunned for a moment and he drops his sword.
IDIOT!
For a split second he sees his attacker and its- Its a different beast, larger than the last one, it was similar in shape but with a narrower face and a thicker tail ((it's an oversized fox)). He couldn't really make out what its face was, now that he was close enough to see all the vines and leaves it just looked like a mess. But he does register rows of sharp metal.
And it has him completely pinned down.
He immediately starts thrashing, making to move. It does unbalance the beast, which lets out a noise like metal grinding on metal that makes him want to put his hands over his ears-
Before he can completely get the thing off of him it lunges, sinking its teeth-like metal rows into his shoulder and upper arm.
He growls, flinching, pushing that pain aside not now-!
He successfully gets one foot down against the floor and pushes, shoving himself away from the floor and getting the beast OFF of himself.
As it slides he feels its claws cut him but he doesn't care. He needs to destroy this thing!
The moment he's standing he moves to kick it away, pulling at his arts and already creating a giant fireball in his hands-
With a yell he hurls it at the beast and it goes up in flames within seconds. The metal screeching accompanying its demise.
He watches with narrowed eyes, manipulating his flames to keep them from licking at trees and vines, until the beast falls limp. Dead.
He stares at it for a second, breathing heavily.
Well. Crap.
His arm throbbed painfully.
He stands up and grabs his sword, switching it to his right hand. His left was useless now.
He looked over at the beast that had helped him out. By comparison it was a lot smaller. Much easier to kill.
But. Hm.
It wasn't made of plants that was for sure. And... had it been warning him before?
He doesn't think about it for long. He'd overstayed his welcome.
He approaches quickly and kneels. "Hey, I need to get out of here, its not safe. Do you want to come with me?" He asks. Holding out his bad arm- No. wait. He hisses, stowing away his sword. Screw it. He could use more arts if he had to. He was going to try his best not to bleed on this beast if he could.
He wasn't sure if the hairy beast understood him, but if it ran away, well, oh well. Beasts were usually better off facing the world with their instincts than most people were anyways.
Sad worried Kitty noises
"MREEEH!!!" she yowls, her back arching impossibly higher. He's dropped his big knife. Unarmed. No!! The giant fox...it's made of plants, or is it infested? Rotting, bad, it could be a new kind of troll she doesn't know, and if it is-
Her little heart hammering in her chest, she lunges forward. If it's a troll she can take damage from it. She's safe from the sickness, she can--she's--
Too late.
Burning blood spills, coating the air with the smell of iron. No. NO!!! She'd just found a person who seemed good, she can't let them disappear too, like mama, like her crew, like like like-
She grabs onto the bad fox's hind leg, gnawing on it, clawing and thrashing with all her might. It needs to go away, go away!!! How dare it attack the first good person she'd found in this strange scary place??!! How dare-
The bad fox gets kicked away, and Kitty leaps back, her fur making her twice her size as she hisses and spits at it. She looks to the person and...
If cats could cry, she would. He was bitten. He was bitten by what may or may not be a troll. How long does he have before he goes away like mama? Like....like...
The person's fire burns bright, and he throws it at the bad fox, burning it down to nothing but blackness and screeching. Now that is a proper way to end a troll. Good. She takes some satisfaction in that, even as her heart aches and hurts hurts hurts-
The blood smell grows stronger. The man comes closer, kneeling before her. It's then she notices all the black on him...she's never seen that on a person before. She mewls with sorrow, thinking him to already be Turning. But he asks if she wants to come with him...the bloody arm reaching forward with a pained hiss. She sniffs, wanting to help clean him a little, just a little. Take some of the pain away...she's safe from the Sickness. It would not hurt her to clean the bite. But then the arm is pulled away, and he looks to her.
Strangely, she seems to understand him quite well. The harness around her shoulders wouldn't look like something from Rhodes, but it's make might seem military in a way. There's a name embroidered on it: Kisa. ((Kitty in Icelandic)) She looks again at his arm, then at him. Good person, strong, in pain. Already Turning...she doesn't want him to disappear so soon after finding him. ....yes, she wants to go with him. If he Turns fully she can...she can climb a tree. Something.
"Mrau!" she replies, jumping up along his unhurt arm and settling down along his shoulders, enjoying the fur in his hood. It reminds her of her Lalli. She headbutts the back of his head, partly a comfort, and partly an affirmation that she's with him in this little adventure.
She will stay with him as long as she is able.
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I used google translate LOL
NO KITTY [TW Discussion of Terminal Illness]
KITTY YES (Time to make up an environment real quick)
Mans is not okay!! Physically or mentally!! (xD yay you saved me the trouble!)
Well then have a fresh loaf of emotional support cat!!
Somebody needs to desperately teach Flamebringer what a cat is and what cats do help
Somebody's Footsteps
This time, the newcomer had made it to the cafeteria, and seemed to be... speaking to someone near the window? And yet... no one was there. It was curious. Interesting. It wasn't beyond the halovian to think that perhaps there were some ghosts that lingered, unseen even to him. He'd drifted within the lounge multiple times in the previous days, in the hopes of chancing upon that woman again, to no avail. He feels her loss, every time he steps within the room, and yet, knowing that the plants have grown freely, relentlessly in her absence, in the absence of all those that had made their continued existence possible...
Sometimes loss manifests as hope.
As he approaches, the other man's demeanour seems to change. He reaches for something that isn't there, and seems to feel its loss, like acknowledging it in truth, touching it, had broken through the veil cast over the Ship within the depths. Sunday supposes that whatever he had seen had not given him an answer he liked. The winged man walks slowly towards the other, stepping loud enough to make his presence known. His expression is kind, open. Nonjudgmental.
"I regret to inform you that the Ship is haunted. The ghosts as of late have been more concise in shape, but our moments with them are fleeting, I fear." He says, his voice soft, thoughtful. "I understand that it must be alarming."
His approach stops, when he reaches a place next to the other man. He gives the other a second to notice that his hands are empty, before resting his right hand upon the small of his back. His mind latches onto the fear of tipping over the balcony, falling into the abyss below, of somehow dragging the other man with him to a horrible death. He clenches his fist behind his back, in an attempt to distract, abate it. The fact that the bubble was there was not quite enough, not if he could feel the wind on his face, ruffling his hair, his feathers. (It could fail. All of this could.)
Despite the rising anxiety, he manages to smile.
"My name is Sunday. May I ask for yours?"
Sunday being the cucumber to Flamebringer's metaphorical Cat
He hissed under his breathe and whipped around towards the noise, drawing his katana as the man began to speak.
Several thins register in his mind and he freezes mid movement, neon orange blade just barely escaping its sheath. One, what the man said. Haunted. They were on a ship of some kind and it was haunted. Two. A halo, strange wings affixed to his head.
Sankta.
The man's expression is gentle, it doesn't look like the kind of face somebody would make when approaching their sworn enemies, and his voice matches it, but not a single muscle in Flamebringer's body loosens. He was in big trouble.
... Come to think of it, it's the weirdest looking sankta he'd ever seen. The wings that sprouted out from behind his ears reminded him more of the tufts of feathers you'd see on liberi than the various kinds of wings he'd seen on sankta. Weird spot for them too. Sankta normally theirs behind their backs.
The halo was also weird. It looked more like something carved out of metal then the stone or pure light-looking ones of most sankta he'd met.
Was this guy a half breed? Did the sankta even let their kind do that? It wasn't exactly like he'd ever stopped to get a sankta culture lesson from any of the ones he killed. He had been kinda busy trying not to get shot.
He keeps all these thoughts to himself, and off of his face as his eyes narrow. It would be stupid to attack somebody who's, at least for now, seemingly not going to attack him. But at the same time, the weird sankta could be biding his time, looking to catch Flamebringer off guard by being all friendly before stabbing him in the back.
But if it was a sankta who was powerful enough to try to play mind games, brazenly approaching a criminal wanted by the Laterano Hall, confident enough that he could without being in serious trouble... he was either exactly as dangerous as he thought he was, or he was an idiot and greatly underestimated Flamebringer.
... Crap. He didn't like his chances. He always had his own arts hiding in his back pocket if he needed them... but sometimes that wasn't enough.
For Sunday, several awkward moments of silence pass, whether or not he sees the half drawn blade... Flamebringer is trying to shield its view with his body, but he can only do so much.
"Ghosts..." he grits out, hesitantly sheathing his sword as quietly as he could, hating bowing to this mind game, if that's what it was. "So you can see them too?"
The weird sankta shows both of his hands, empty, and Flamebringer can't see a gun on him. But that doesn't mean anything. Not if he had back up. And not if he had arts. He'd seen a sankta sniper rifle take out people from a mile away.
The guys eyes dart to the space past the edge of the balcony, and Flamebringer tries not to visibly bristle. Drat... so he might have back up. Or he was looking for something else.
The guy smiles, but Flamebringer can see the nerves. Okay so maybe not as cocky about this as he thought. It almost makes Flamebringer crack a fanged grin, if he wasn't in such crap circumstances.
"'Sunday?'" he parrots back, head tilting. That sounded more like an operator name than a real name. Which checked out for sankta. Executor, Enforcer... these were a few he'd heard personally, among others, being named after a day of the week wasn't that weird.
Flamebringer snorts at being asked his own name, "My name?" he shakes his head, "For a sankta, you're acting awfully chummy, don't you think?" While he no longer is drawing his blade, his left hand rests on its hilt, a silent promise if Sunday tries anything.
It might be a horrible idea to poke at him, but with how the guy was already breaking under the pressure of the mess he'd got himself into, and oh boy, would Flamebringer make him regret it if he pulled anything funny, he wondered how much further he could fray his nerves with a little pushing.
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He's not quite sure the memory of that woman will ever leave him.
Sunday is more than aware of the hand upon the katana. The halovian's eyes even drift to it, but surely the gentle pulsing of his halo, the waves exuding tranquility and peace, will be enough to smooth over any feathers ruffled by his presence. Sunday feels no fear, as he means no harm. His intentions are pure, and he is without stain--- surely the other man would see this.
A sankta? He'd only heard that word from one other(well, two), before now. Sunday supposed he and Federico could look.... Similar enough, side by side, though they were very much not quite the same race. Was this man normally quick to draw a weapon upon seeing a sankta? It makes Sunday wonder. The word does make Sunday's face light up however, in recognition.
"Perhaps you are thinking of my dear friend Federico. You might know him as Executor." Sunday replies, completely unaware of the political minefield he's currently walking over. He has no idea what Rhodes Island is or if it is in Laterano or not, or if there was anything else on Terra. His mind is torn between the conversation and how close they are the railing. The bubble wouldn't hold if something hit it hard enough, he's almost sure. Sunday hates that the thought won't leave his mind.
"Are you from Laterano?"
The halovian eventually settles on gripping the balcony railing, but he can't stop looking over it. The dark abyss below, the distance between the sides of the ship, the myriad rooms lining the walls of the pit, the wind in his hair the bubble-- FEAR/DANGER/WRONG/BAD/JUMP-- The emotions from his halo spike, before muting into a low, heavy static as he withdraws.
Sunday turns away from the balcony, in an attempt to abate the thoughts, even considers taking off his glove so that the bite of his nails against his palm may help. Instead, he scoots himself away from that teetering edge, feathers fanning out, more than a little unsettled. He wrings his hands together quietly, trying to focus his attention on the new person. The new person resting his hand on a sword. The new person who certainly did not look all too thrilled to be seeing him. That.
-LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER-
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ideal camouflage because I love trouble
Huh. Looks like he took it out in one strike, not bad.
Boothill approaches to offer his congratulations, but the guy whirls around with his sword at the ready and quite frankly Boothill's pretty sure he can't be blamed for his own reflexes, so really, this situation ain't either of their faults. But he does have a gun pointed at Flamebringer. "Woah, woah, woah, no need to get hostile now, pal. I ain't gonna hurt ya."
Charisma check~
Given his occupation, his race, and his status as an infected, he'd seen down the ends of a surprisingly large amount of the things, and come out still around to tell the tale. But it never became something he took lightly.
The owner is talking, his tone is even, calm, like he's trying to keep things from going further.
Cheap words given how much power he held in this exchange. Flamebringer's eyes narrowed. He didn't look sankta. The pinpoint of red in his eye and the flash of sharp teeth spoke of literally any other race. But just because he wasn't sankta, didn't mean he wasn't dangerous.
Flamebringer still had adrenaline pumping through his veins, "Prove it." He said, his grip on his sword tightening, chest heaving from his previous kill, "Or else I'm more than capable of making this as painful for you as it will be for me."
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Still, he's never been one to shoot without cause and this guy hasn't done anything to deserve a bullet yet, so he takes his finger off the trigger and spreads his hands, redirecting the muzzle of his gun. "All right, I'll stow mine if you stow yours. Can't say I fancy having that big ol' knife pointed at me much either."
Of course putting his revolver away doesn't mean much since he's still armed with his built in gun, but that's between him and his finger. No need for his new friend to find out if things go well.
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Ideal Camoflauge | Two Sarkaz? Short tag to make the ball roll
The indifference does not waver. As the gaze shifts behind him and delicate hand raises up to point, a lance of green shoots past him to strike… the second leaf-beast, mid pounce on it’s way to Flamebringer. The beast crumples to the ground just like the first, dissolving into a pile of shredded green and metal as the small woman speaks. “Good afternoon. Please do not attack me, harming another passenger of this place would be inconvenient for either of us.” Her voice expresses the same indifference her gaze does, emotionless to the point of monotone.
Two of them!! But not really. Sorry for the long wait
"Hey, don't get any funny ideas-" He starts.
Before he can finish a blast of green shoots from her hand, over his shoulder and he hears the distinct sound of a collision. Whipping around he sees another one of those plant-beat things sprawled out on the ground, dissolving like the first one did.
"H-huh." He hadn't heard that one coming. He was slipping dang it.
He looks back at her, his katana now lowered and held securely at his side, not that it made him any less of decapitating her in a second if he so wished. But it felt in poor taste to point it back at her after she'd just saved his skin. At least for now.
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing, "Awful polite. Thanks for the save," but just because she saved him didn't mean she was trustworthy. He looks her up and down, "You obviously know more about where we are than I do." He states, "'passenger'... this is a vessel of some kind? And what are you doing here?"
She could obviously hold her own. He noticed finally her pointed ears, combined with the red eyes. Huh. A sarkaz maybe? That was concerning. If it wasn't just him, there was a possibility waking up in this strange place wasn't a coincidence.
We can walk and talk
After, she turns and begins walking away, a short gesture beckoning him to follow her as she begins to make her way back towards the elevator. “It is referred to as a ship, though it walks on land. I was removing the plants from the hallways.” Her words continue to roll with a measured monotone, and the area she leads him through bears out her words. The area being littered with dust and decaying plant matter that she sweeps over without taking any notice of it. All of it tinted black with necrosis.
Sorry he is being difficult 😔
She can be just as difficult
Touche
Bit of Lore! We are baiting him
Pspspsps the large angi man
Ping
Parried
Riposte
Uno reverse
+2
Trap card activated
Mystical Space Typhoon
Go fish
I've got Gin
Pokemon at 0 hp