[ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

The spaceship. A once-glorious masterpiece that was capable of interstellar travel. Now it's crashed down in the centre of the Crystal Territories, by the edge of their holy lake. The AI is down, but the flickering power might just barely be enough to sap some energy from.
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Silence Underbourne
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[ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Silence Underbourne » 07 Nov 2019, 20:10

The pod door seals hiss as the hydraulic pistons raise the lid, startling the woman inside awake.
"WHERE... what the fucking hell...?"
A spasm of coughing erupts from her as gouts of pseudamniotic fluid are forced from her lungs, spattering the nylex seat of the pod.
A hand to her throat, sore from the volume of fluid forced out, Silence takes a shuddering breath of air and absorbs her surroundings.

Cryo pods. Electronics. Dim light. And, oh yes, water everywhere...

She hangs her head with a shake as the reality of the situation begins to settle in. Fucking Genesis Corp. Mother-fucking GC.

And I'm the only one. Even better.

Swinging a leg out of the pod and rolling, Silence flops like an Old Terran seal onto the pitched floor. She gasps in pain at the sensations in her legs and arms as they are used for the first time in a century. She gazes down the bay, tilted 45 degrees and nearly full of water, at all the submerged pods, and snorts. Some pods have already opened; some are still closed, hibernation seals intact. Others... aren't so lucky. Silence staggers to the nearest pod with sky-blue lights pulsing along the sides, looking for an opening mechanism. None to be found, that she can see.

Probably would have helped if she'd been conscious when she was stuck in this damn tin can, then maybe she'd know how to get others out. Maybe she could programmatically open them?
She looks about for a control unit; nope. That'd be too easy.

Silence struggles to slide open a hatch, then another. She crab-walks down the emergency-light lit corridor, one foot on the wall, one foot on the floor. This ship is probably not dissimilar to Muckton, the hive city she grew up in.

She eventually finds an active control wall that's barely active and summons the AI.

No response at this terminal.
Christ on a cracker.
Never should have had that drink with that dude at Eisley's; he looked too smooth to be honest. Gotta trust those instincts, that's what's kept me alive.


She thinks back to 'the night before', now probably five bajillion years ago.

How long was GC-2's trip supposed to take? Not really a concern for one of my status.

It had been CD Eve, 'Colonization Day' Eve. They'd been building the colonization ship for so long that they'd already created the holiday before it had actually 'set sail'. Fucking GCorp's ship was going to set off the next day; everybody and their servbot was talking about it. And that handsome gentleman was sooooo interested in what she'd had to offer...

Data, data, data. Files. Cripto. Speaking of, it was time to see what she could do at this control wall. At least some emergency generators were obviously still operating at this part of the ship.

If this even is the ship, still don't know for sure. Maybe they've got me hooked up to the GCorp mainframe like Mum and Da; all a brilliant simulation. That'd be a fucked-up sim for sure.

Silence's fingers dashed across the glass, busting out some fugly hacking and trying to assess the situation. Yup, she was in the GC-2, alright. Logs are... locked, crypted... showing deleted, but the files are all still there. She grunted in consternation; maybe she could figure that out later but... who cares right now.

SecurCam footage? Same. No access. Ah! Got one live at least, maybe I can get more up in time. It's... a corridor. Of the ship. One of a zillion. Awesome.

She swiped through to cryonic support systems. Grunted again. Quite a few turds still in stasis. Lucky, lucky bastards. A few more swipes and she set them all to auto-rouse.

Why would they name it auto-rouse? So many bad jokes... And now for a little mayhem.

She engaged the auto-rouse protocol for all intact, safe-to-open pods. In a bit of time all the coffins would be open, the inhabitants awake and alive (whether they want it or not).

Then maybe we can play a bitchin' game of Gencards. Fucking Genesis Corp.

She moved on from the wall; couldn't access everything she needed from this far back in the ship. SecurCam, if any worked and showed the outside environment, would need to be accessed closer to the bridge. At least, that seemed like a good guess.. or maybe just a good hope.
She reached down and cupped some water from a puddle nearby, sniffed it.
Seems ok. Maybe their goddam ship fell out of orbit back onto Terra? Wouldn't that be ironic? Or maybe the eggheads had actually found a habitable spot. Great job; let's fuck over another planet.
She passed signs of a struggle; searched a guard looking fella and was rewarded with a handgun and medkit. She straightened, then doubled over coughing, breaking into a sweat.
Gotta take it easy; medkit may have to last a damn long time.
After a few minute's rest she moved on, finally finding a working SecurCam (only showing one cardinal direction of the environment, but beggar's can't be choosers...) and... finding an egress to the outside.
Here we go. Maybe the atmosphere's poison and I'll die instantly? Can't be worse than Muckton... and hell, if the ship hasn't sunk yet, maybe I'm lucky enough to not die instantly
Silence opened the hatch and poked a head out into the unknown...
Last edited by Silence Underbourne on 08 Nov 2019, 18:06, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: [OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Yves » 08 Nov 2019, 00:32

Yves issued a forceful slap against the left side of his cheek. Goose bumps had appeared up his arms as he shivered and struggled to stand. His hair was matted in thick moisture and pushed off towards its side. Hibernation sickness was no joke. His eyes were all fuzzy in the corners, his head was light, and the dizziness was rather miserable.

As hazy blue eyes adjusted to the carnage around him he tried to process what had happened. Rubble, sparking cables, flashing lights, and the silence… the deafening silence. It was obvious that the Genesis had crashed. Was he the sole survivor? Do people die of starvation or dehydration first? He knew the answer but he was blanking. How was he supposed to prioritize if he didn’t know whether he should scavenge for food or water? Did any of the liquor survive the crash?

It wasn’t until logic, reason, and basic survival instincts jumped back into the man’s head that his panic subsided.

Rows of cryopods deliver Yves that sinking feeling of dread. He was lucky not just to be alive but to have woken up at all. Hesitantly, he pressed a palm against the panel of the pod beside him. Nothing happened, he moved his hand across the glass and confirmed that there was another passenger inside but no indication that the cryopod was going to pop open anytime soon. The dusty haired young man fidgeted with the enclosure for a few more moments, shaking this knob or pulling on that lever, but it was to no avail.

Defeated and feeling a bit curious he checked back at his pod. His family’s revolver was in the storage space Genesis Corp had promised they’d store it in as was the rest of his requested supplies. As he gathered his pack his eyes zeroed in on the badge clipped to his belt.

YVES COCHET
VIP PASSENGER
GENESIS CORPORATION

That probably wouldn’t be of much use right now. He had assumed that the majority of the crew had been criminals, unsavory folk, and the impoverished. You know, the shitstains of society. Seeing as the section he was sleeping soundly in had been a few of the handpicked, “VIP Passengers,” and they were all sound asleep in frozen bliss it was unlikely that being a Genesis Corp golden boy was going to sit too well with any crew members that weren’t still slumbering.

Yves took the combat knife from his pack, unsheathed it, and sliced the badge off in one quick motion. He knelt down to a pile of debris, shuffling some of the metal and plastic aside before burying the badge underneath. After he had buried the evidence he re-sheathed his blade and began walking in the direction he assumed may have been towards the bridge. As his shoes clanked up and down the silver walkway his pace slowed down some as something… unusual caught his eye. Half a torso and some legs protruding from a hatch as sunlight rushed into the bulkhead.

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Re: [OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Silence Underbourne » 08 Nov 2019, 15:35

Silence choked as the alien air reached her ravaged lungs; the sunlight scorched her pasty skin. She squinted into the blue and green blur outside of the colony ship for a moment before dropping back down into the corridor with a thud, landing on the side of her ankle.
"Fucking hell!" she hollered into the ship's emptiness, staggering to the wall for support, histamine blooming in her nose and eyes.
She pressed her palms into her face, trying to wipe away tears and mucus pouring from her membranes and hawking snot out of her throat.

Seems I'll be ship-bound for a bit.

Silence wiped her hands dry on the surfaces of the hallway and dabbed her eyes with the inside of her elbow. As vision cleared, she noticed she was no longer solitary.
"Well this is embarassing," she muttered to the newcomer, giving his frame a once-over. He stood with an arched eyebrow, hand on massive sixgun at his hip.

Why would they allow personal weapons on this thing? Fucking Genesis Corp.

She raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Ah...this isn't what it seems. I'm a passenger, not an invader," she explained. "Was getting a look at the outside. Apparently my immune system doesn't agree with the environment." She spat another gobbet on the wall. "Silence," she stated, hesitantly extending an open hand after a moment; looking at it still glistening, she retracted it.
"You probably don't want to shake that."
The newcomer shifted his stance slightly, cocked his head.
"Yves," he answered with a nod.

Chatty fella.

"You won't believe me but you can ease off that sixgun," she said. She glanced at her soaking boots and pant bottoms, and wretched allergen-induced appearance. "I wouldn't believe me either," she said with a shrug. "Here," she pulled the handgun out of her belt with finger and thumb, knelt down and scooted it across the floor to him.
"We have a few choices. Trust. Or mistrust. I'm choosing to trust. You look like you'll be better at keeping me alive than I could do on my own. Take the gun. Be my guardian, if it please you. Or take it and run. But I," she said, glancing at a nearby console, "can get us information."
She walked to the console, fired it up and began swiping. "C'mere blue eyes. Take a look." She shared the information she'd previously gained with Yves.
He peered at the screen, seeming to understand more of her code than she'd expected; she noticed a rip, or a hole on his shirt, decided it wasn't important...at the moment.
"So that's what we know. Might be a good idea for you to check the hatch, see what you can see out there; I'm not any use at that."
Yves narrowed his eyes at her.
"Don't ask. Childhood diseases," she lied. "Not communicable."

No need for him to know where I came from or that I didn't have a ticket on this thing. Doesn't look like the type who's shot-up with a junkie or spent any time Under the Dome.

Yves considered for a bit and made a move for the hatch, slowly, keeping his body turned towards Silence.
"Do I look like I could hurt you?" she said, rolling her eyes.

Cautious. Smart. That's good.

"I need to get to some other parts of this behemoth to find some other data access points," she called over her shoulder, turning back to the console. "I'm going to start moving on that. Need to find the food stores and equipment bays. IMO, that environment can eat shit. I'm staying in here. The logs I can access tell me it's been a bit of time since the ship crashed; I'm assuming that since we're not fish food that the bulkheads sealed this area and that there's an emergency buoyancy system."
"What I can't determine is how a ship this big didn't create a dust butt over this whole place for miles, or why the water didn't evaporate."
Yves turned back to her curiously, before putting a hand on the hatch ladder-rung.
"Something LOWERED this ship. Call me batshit crazy, but something weird is going on out there." Silence swiped the screen dead and headed down a side corridor, calling out to Yves. "I'll keep looking for info; would really appreciate if you kept any shitheads off my back while I do that."

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Re: [ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Yves » 11 Nov 2019, 15:48

As the pale thin-limbed woman plummeted into the cold neosteel floor of the Genesis Yves stood frozen. In a normal situation he likely would’ve rushed over, offered to help her up, and confirm she hadn’t been seriously injured. But there was nothing ‘normal’ about their predicament. At this point anyone who survived the crash was in a fight for survival, nothing more and nothing less.

Though their introduction was curt and formal enough the man donned in a scarlet sweater was slightly on edge. He knew nothing of this vagabond and her talk of trust and weakness could just as easily be a facade rather than genuine. Still, she did not look like much of a threat. Especially now that her firearm was lying by his boots. He picked it up and continued to observe her and the monitor she displayed before them.

“What did it look like?” he inquired before she pressed down the inviting corridor.

Silence stopped in her tracks, obviously confused by his question. He cleared his throat and clarified, “the outside. You took a glance at it,” the young man placed her firearm between his belt and relented from his own revolver. “You’re feeling OK I presume, minus the allergies? Did it look like home or…”, he struggled for a second to find the words before simply blurting it out, “...somewhere else?”

Before she could answer he began walking towards her and the side corridor. In a slow but determined pace. “We should stick together until we find more survivors, it will be safer. You seem resourceful enough but a word of warning,” he stared at her with intense eyes of azure, “be less trusting. If we’re marooned on a foreign world the only form of governance that’s to follow is anarchy.”

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Re: [ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Searlan » 11 Nov 2019, 16:39

Searlan loudly thought praises to Xolstizza as he walked beneath the lake, an attempt at placating the mercurial god of magic after his earlier outburst during his unplanned descent. Ancient bones carved with the runes that bound his soul so tightly to this long-since shuffled mortal coil tread through shimmering drifts of silt, scintillating shoals of fish swimming through shining sunbeams. Bronze armaments, untouched by nothing more than the carefully removed verdigris of eternity were carried with pride, regardless of the tender touch of the great beast that had tossed him beneath the Crystal Lake.

Empty eye sockets burned with the baleful green flame of the underworld, regardless of his current submerged state. The mortal world was burned away, hungering fires erasing the natural darkness that had sought to enshroud his surroundings, denying such feeble attempts to impose limitations upon him. All that remained was the veil between life and death, ripped asunder and leaving the world bared to his ambition.

And it was yet unfulfilled- His Queen most beloved required answers, knowledge, power. A change in approach was required- the creatures that had been born from the meteor’s impact possessed some matter of artifice, belying some matter of intellect despite their outright void of magical potential. Perhaps a craftsman would yield their secrets, or there was some trove of their treasures that he might return to her in glory, some trophy to take in her name-

His silent plotting was interrupted as he started to walk up a black slope, only to throw himself away immediately, phantom agony coursing through his non-existent veins. Eyes burning, his cast his gaze over the black monolith beneath the waves, spearing up towards the sunlight. Dull flames flickered over the surface of the lake, massive rents torn into the colossal construction, a leviathan of cursed iron plunged into the blessed waters like a spear cast down from on high.

Perhaps a lesser creature would kneel in awe at the sheer scale of this cursed creation, dumbfounded at the utter enormity of a small realm forged from such a blasphemous metal.

Searlan was not a lesser creature. He was a Partholonian- his chariot wheels had ground bones into dust centuries before this current infestation of mayflies had thought themselves Lords.

Let them continue to deceive themselves a while longer. Burning bones stepped aside from the ferrous ruin, crawling up the sandbanks through water permeated with strange energy, burning with alien powers. With every step, the longdead elf changed, the crystal lake infused with Xolstizza’s magic, lending strength to his glamour.

Iridescent fur blossomed into existence over his scarred bones, a suitable camouflage for the shimmering waters of the lake, thick flaps of skin lying their way into reality between newly furred fingers, ideal for navigating the stilled currents. And, simply because he could, an array of six eyes blossomed over his snouted face, the demented hallucination carrying forward alongside him as he broached the surface of the waves, bending every effort to shaking himself dry, blessed waters flying freely. It was not a simple illusion to create- a mastercraft of falling droplets, the fine rainbow spray that he shook free from imagined hide.

Beneath his aegis of glamour, he surveyed his surroundings, crouching on the shore like some base beast. Six eyes blinked as one, looking upon the wounded behemoth of iron and fire that laid upon the shoreline, rising up above the verdant forests and plunging deep beneath the waves. It was a shattered declaration of defiance against his kind, a kingdom forged of anathema. With a low, animalistic growl, he began to prowl forward on all fours, mimicking the slippery movements of the beast he had masked himself in, seeking answers within the wounds of the hellish creation before him.

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Re: [ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Silence Underbourne » 11 Nov 2019, 17:30

Back inside the Genesis...

Allergies? Thought I only had plasdust and rad reactions... guess you can get allergies 'outside' too...

Silence glanced over one shoulder back at Yves.

"I get it, Yves," she said. "Teamwork...no, let me rephrase that, 'working WITH people' isn't something I do much. Not a fan of committees. I'll do my best now that we 'trust' one another."

She held out her hand, palm up.

"Whaddaya think? Gun me? You pass test number one."

Silence kept her hand out as she waited for Yves to relinquish the sidearm. He pulled the gun out of his shiny belt sideways, still holding it close. Fingers drumming on the stock, he eyed her thoughtfully.

"I can wait," she snorted, turning to the nearest console, fingers dancing across the plas. "The one outer SecurCam I can locate that's working is here. See for yourself, or check the hatch."
She mused for a moment. "Looks like Earth. Like parts of Earth. The way it used to look."

Not that I'd know, but it matches the brochures...

She opened a second viewer with a flick, while Yves scrutinized the view of the outside.

"This is what I was working on before you opened your sleepy little eyes," she muttered, scrolling through code and prompts and eventually swiping open several top-down diagnostic screens showing various sections of the massive colony ship. She tapped the screen and a block of the map turned blue, the letters VIP003 appearing in the center of the highlighted area. "This is us, here." She pinched and zoomed and panned the map a bit. Keeping a finger on VIP003 she touched two other locations with her other hand. ENG007 and MED011 blinked into existence along with their highlighted locations.

VIP? What the fuck was I doing in there... and how rich was this guy?

"These areas are where I gotta get to. I can rig up some shit to help us if we can get there." She gestured at the map once again. "These areas, the red, appear to be compromised in some way. No fucking clue how bad or with what. So we might gotta do some creative moving through the ship. Air ducts, crawlspaces and shit. You down? Any other ideas?"

Yves began to speak but was interrupted by a quiet, persistent pinging and red, blinking icon emanating from the screen.

"I rigged a REAL rough sensor to the ship's security systems. Something's moving besides us; could be inside, could be outside. We're not alone." She glanced down at the gun in Yves hand again. "We good now?" she asked, batting her eyelashes sarcastically.

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Re: [ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Yves » 13 Nov 2019, 18:09

He stood a good 4 inches over the dainty young woman. Her gun in his hand with the barrel now pointing towards himself. He gestured the handle of the sidearm in Silences general direction before as he quipped, “probably best for the both of us to be armed.”

After he had relinquished her weapon he peered at the view screen, curious of the ship’s surroundings. Gentle waves from a clear lake rocked back and forth from the disturbance of the massive STS-02. In the distance Yves could make out some lush greenery and what looked fairly typical of Terra. Whatever scouting the corporation had done seemed like it had paid off.

“Freshwater from that lake should solve one problem but we’ll also need to find some food,” he said while peering away from the monitor. “And the booze, not just to drink our worries away,” he glanced over at Silence, “it’ll double as a disinfectant and pain killer in case anything should happen.“

Silence muttered something about getting over to medbay or engineering and before the twenty-something Cochet could answer he was interrupted by a pulsating alert.

“We’re good,” he answered.

Yves double checked the safety on his sidearm and felt his right hip to ensure his knife was within easy reach. “No telling how long we’ve been on cryo, we’ll need to watch ourselves around other survivors.” With a quick glance over to Silence he gave spoke with candor, “we should be cordial with them but let’s make sure their intentions aren’t dubious.”

He didn’t want to consider the possibility that it could be anything other than fellow passengers as the pair proceeded down the walkway.

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Re: [ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Searlan » 14 Nov 2019, 21:19

The illusion-cloaked champion of The Eternal Queen stalked forward, bones sifting through the shimmering sands upon the beach. His illusory form was crude, primitive, a bestial creature that behaved like the savage that it was. He crawled, vertebrae unhinged by cartilage and flesh as he surveyed his surroundings. The ruin of whatever cursed creation was vomited up from Burther’s unholy depths lay strewn across the coasts, iron lying like the bones of a fallen leviathan.

Iron.

There was no escaping that unhallowed metal. The spite of the earth god, his curse against the people that had dishonoured him and turned to the wind and all its mysteries in his stead. Its touch was poison, its only gift was pain, and now, a great temple of agony was raised before him.

He traipsed around its corpse- like a carrion feeder scouring the surroundings, fearful of competition. Clad in false fur, he rose on his haunches, still adopting a crude pose appropriate to the primitive disguise he had chosen. Quietly, he hissed to himself, ancient ivory gnashing together in hatred of this ancient bane. He was no carrion feeder, no coward.

Slowly, he straightened himself, looking towards the cursed obelisk and the legion of mysteries contained within.

His Queen had not dragged him back from beyond the veil of death to cower! He was his undying Lady’s hand- and she would not see Her grasp falter in such a task, no matter what Her divinity had to suffer through to see it done.

Falsehoods fled from him like vermin fleeing a sinking ship, illusory hide bubbling and boiling over to bare the runemarked bones beneath, ancient bronze and mouldering finery bared to the world. His blade hung as his side, javelins and bow slung across his back, weapons of a war that had ended on decidedly unacceptable terms centuries before.

Beneath his faceless helm, gold yet inlaid into its rusted construction, fire-filled eye sockets stared up at the massive rent in the side of the fallen tower, dying fires and strange, flickering mage-lights beckoning to him from within a halo of abyssal iron. Treading forward, he reached out and brushed his calcified fingers against the iron erected before him.

Pain, thick and viscous, wormed its way down his arm, throbbing forward with each pulse of a long-absent heart. It penetrated deep into the dusty marrow within him, a dull and persistent agony filling every empty void that had filled him in the absence of life. Silently seething behind clenched teeth, he reached out and gripped a spare of bent metal, lancing torment down his bones as he started to clamber upwards, an erratic staccato rhythm of rampant torture denying him the opportunity to familiarize himself with the sensation.

Slowly, he reached upwards, continuing to clamber upwards towards the breach- he was Parthonian. It was his chariot wheels that tread this land centuries before, his blades that slew their champions, his magics that felled their thralls. This was a mere mass of inanimate metal, and he was Searlan. Bleeding from a thousand mental wounds, he hauled himself up, dragging his dead body towards his goal, every moment sending another fresh hell-born agony rampaging through his body.

But he was A Hand of the Eternal. A champion of the Undying.

He would not see himself bowed to a mere edifice, accused though it may be. Ancient claws crested the serrated lip of the wreckage, bronze-clad bone arising soon after as he hauled himself up onto the plating beyond, his rotten tabard doing little to shield him from the hatred of the iron beneath him. Lungs that had been claimed by the jealous earth centuries past screamed for relief as he slowly rose to his feet, looking to his surroundings.

It was like a cave of anathema- strange lights and glowing tablets strewn throughout it, black vines hanging from the ceiling as great silver veins ran through it, carrying Queen-knows-what to places yet to be discovered.

Yet.

Limbs heavy with pain, Searlan began to press forward, slowly staggering his way deeper inside this labyrinth.

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Re: [ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Silence Underbourne » 15 Nov 2019, 15:52

Silence stopped at the next terminal she found and started tapping and swiping away at the left side of it.

"You can work this thing too, right? Somewhat?" she asked Yves, who nodded and stepped to the right side. "Can you pull up a list of the SecurCams for me?" She added, "Please and thanks."
Thin fingers blurred across the plas. "And see if you can identify which are non-functional." She accessed SecurCam serial IDs and cross-referenced with a diagnostic map. "This is just a guess, but the list you have there of non-functional Cams spans this large portion of the ship," she stated and passes her fingers over the diagnostic map. "From that, I'm assuming the ship cracked into pieces, at least two. Some of the sensors are still active in that area, and the 'alarm' I rigged is localized to that region."

She turned her head to look at the young man, pushing lank hair out of her face. "Whatever is moving around could be in our piece of the ship, or another. There's only one way to find out, though I really wanna get to the engineering and med bays..."

Sighing, she clicked the safety to the off position of her gun.

"Let's see what's happening. I have a 'bit' of experience not being seen. I'll take point. Cover me, Blue eyes?"

They headed toward the breach, Silence creeping stealthily in the lead, Yves bringing up the rear.

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Re: [ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Yves » 25 Nov 2019, 16:44

“Great,” the young man stated, “the ship is completely fucked.”

It was a bit unnerving for the heir of the Cochet name to realize that not only was going to die on this strange planet but that now it was confirmed he’d die in rags. Hobbling around a fire to keep warm and living off berries. That was if he was lucky. Before the panic could persist he raised his chin and took another look at the screen.

Finally he nodded to the fritzy haired girl before him. “Fine, I’ll cover you.”

Silence slunk down the corridor as Yves tried to match her pace. Admittedly, the taller man was not well equipped to masking his footsteps. He tried to stay in tow but found it difficult to keep up while moving silently. Eventually the pair rounded a corner and his boot caught a steel awning cast alongside the wall. He crashed, face forwards, in a violent ruckus.

Yves’ arm saved him from a bloody nose but the sound certainly alarmed his female companion. “My bad, must’ve been uh… debris or something,” he said while trying to hide his embarrassment. The glint of red on his face was doing him no favors. “Let’s just um, press forwards I gue-“

The youth froze mid sentence. Commotion could be heard ahead. The marooned duo was getting close to whatever had tripped Silence’s alarm.

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Re: [ALWAYS OPEN] The Second Wakening

Post by Searlan » 04 Dec 2019, 12:37

This was not Searlan’s best.

Echoes of agony from a life long since abandoned coursed through his bones as he shambled forward, clad in ancient finery. Pain was something he had gone long centuries without, freed from the mortal confines of flesh, and now- he was surrounded by this wretched anathema. Bare bones clacked against the iron plating of this broken tower’s construction, a fresh cascade of suffering suffusing his old bones. From long dead lips, a moan of pain echoed out across the forboding halls, errant sparks of energy falling from severed cables as his baleful gaze struggled to pierce his surroundings through the veil of the underworld and the cursed agony poisoning him.

He stumbled around a corner, scarcely able to perceive his surroundings as he continued forward in his desperate search for answers. He could dimly sense the guttering candlelight of these strange souls, their spirits akin to those of mere insects. Thought was scarcely present, the duty carved into his very bones pushing him forward, onwards, deeper into this abyssal plane of misery.

He could barely see the utter void that was the iron around him, attempting to discern mere darkness from utter oblivion- he certainly did not possess the capacity to identify the mortal beings sheltering within the metallic hellscape of mankind’s making. Blindly, his ancient bones dragged themselves down the hall, tears in his waterlogged, rotting cloth brought about by battle and the simple passage of time baring the carved ivory beneath. Green fire, dulled to the point of being mere spark- hollow memories of warmth- burned beneath a bronze helmet, sightless eyes blind to anything but the path deeper inside the damned fortress. Torturous sensation thudded in his ears, a long-absent heart beating a cacophonous rhythm that consumed all thought beneath a suffocating blanket of suffering.

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