Futuristic 〘POLARIS.〙

[Ehb]

Nor Clyde
Mentions: Around the Survivor
Interactions: Cresion Breezes Lucius Cypher Lekiel Clockwork_Magic

Why?
Why was Nor getting such bad vibes from all of this?

The original goal if this mission is to find out what the source of the distress signal was and rescue survivors. Indeed, there was someone here to rescue. This Operator who was claiming that they were a part of an outpost that was suddenly attacked and wiped out just as quickly. He was here in this horrific state and needed medical assistance right away - which was being attempted but even then they still needed to get him in a hospital bed and with a doctor.

It was important to keep him alive so that they could report back on what had happened. Any intelligence in relation to that attack was important to the Polaris.


But there was something about his now bony arm, and how that arm was supposedly stuck into the Rebuilder's body somehow. If what her comrades' words were to be beloved - the described it like it had become a part of that oversized death crawler.

There was an issue in how he was able to survive for this long with these sorts of injuries out in the open. It could be implied that a whole lot of it came from him dropping down from the Rebuilder after it had crashed it's way down. But wait, he'd been lugging that massive box around with him this whole time. And he was able to somehow ride or accompany this rebuilder without getting blown to pieces? Plus it was odd that the only damage they took from approaching the unapproachable crawler was one arm. Was that not strange?

What was the box anyway? Why was it beeping? Was it the source of the distress signal? Or maybe a black box of some sort as it was suggested. Nor couldn't identify if it was something that came from the Polaris or something that was scavenged... But still. There was something really bothering the Pink-eyed Operator.




Nor had heard both Solline and Aminniman ask the survivor the purpose of the box he was lugging around.

The operator felt bad about the thoughts she was having. She was feeling guilty that, to this person who looked like they had it so rough, she felt suspicion towards them. But, that was exactly what Sinnora had taught her to do. She had to be suspicious of everything in order to survive. Never assume guaranteed safety. For that reason, Nor acted upon that same teaching. She reaches for something attached to her back.

[ "Everyone, take a step back from him, please. Watch for Cross fire." ]

"Cross-fire"
Any operator, especially those who used projectile weapons, understood that term was a warning to other teammates when used in this context. 'Watch out, I'm aiming my firearm in that general direction, stay clear.' But, for Nor to say that. What was she doing?

Behind Solline, A distinct click. A metallic clack driven home.
Nor had drawn out her Rifle, loaded it with an anti-material round, and against all logic of the mission, pointed it at the survivor. The pink gaze in her eyes were piercing through the air with purpose.

If she looked Dumb in hindsight it didn't matter. But there was nothing too embarrassing about being cautious. All that mattered was coming back alive from every mission. Apologies to being insensitive or overactive could be forgiven or forgotten about later. But, there was always only one chance to not make a choice that will get you killed.


"Hey, I feel sorry about the predicament you're in."

She said addressing the disarmed Operator.

"But, my team-mates have asked you twice about what that most conspicuous thing you're carrying is supposed be and you've blown it off like it's no biggie. You have something to hide? Should we ask our resident gentleman to rip it off an analyze it for us?"

Nor's words were harsh. But, it was obvious that asking nicely was not reaching him. Since the other two had already done so. Something was wrong here.

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions: Ehb | Lucius Cypher | Lekiel | Mentions: Everyone Near the Survivor​

---

The blonde sniper listened somewhat intently to what the injured mystery operator had to say, albeit still staring at the big crate on his back. Needless to say, he was in really bad condition, guess having your arm and vocal cords ripped to shreds and being eaten by a Rebuilder would do that to you huh? The operator seemed to be incapable of forming complete sentences due to his current condition, however the words he managed to utter out were somewhat coherent and informative, just took a little imagination and speculation to fill in the blanks. Speaking of that big crate, was it her imagination or is that thing beeping?

Before she could further contemplate the noise and investigate the operator, her earpiece crackled to life once again, the voice being that of the clone girl's this time, accompanied by the distinct sound of a rifle chambering a round. Turning around to look behind her revealed Nor pointing her gun at the mystery operator. "Whoa! Hey! Are you crazy?!" She stared directly at the clone. If one could see under the blonde's goggles, her eyes gave off an expression that was a combination of shock and the look one would have when looking at someone who did something really stupid, though that wouldn't really be necessary since the blonde's tone of voice already conveyed something similar. "There's really no need to point a gun at him you know! You really think he's a threat to the 6 of us combined when he's in that state?" Solline gestured over to the operator's arms, one which was half blown away and the other being currently occupied carrying whatever that thing is on his back. "If you want to point a gun somewhere, point it literally any other direction aside from at the guy we're supposed to be rescuing! We should set up a perimeter anyways. Machines could strike at any moment out here and we don't wanna get caught with our pants down." A variety of chaotic, fuzzy images flashed across her mind as she uttered that last sentence with faint echoes of panicked screams and yelling filled her mind space, each being systematically silenced as the sound of countless metal legs clanking across the metal ground of the shell steadily grew louder. Constantly going on Caravan missions and expeditions for nearly 3 years straight without much of a significant break between missions means you've seen your fair share of things that can go horribly wrong on outside missions, the end result of which is never pretty even with minimal casualties.

Solline shook away those thoughts with the help of the sound of a metal object clanking against the Shell, and unlike the metallic sounds her imagination produced, this one was no figment of her mind. The blonde turned her attention to the ground near the mystery operator and, sure enough, there was something lying there on a spot near his torso. She slowly took a few steps to get within reaching distance of the object before bending down, picking it up, and then returning back to her original position. The object in question seemed to be an ID card of sorts, Solline herself having seen her fair share of cards like these on the occasional outpost mission, though the last one she went on was a really, really long time ago since she wasn't really fond of them. Her memories of what each detail on the card meant exactly were a bit hazy, but she could probably read it well enough to roughly estimate who the guy in front of them was. Let's see here... 'Director Sentinel' Nexian Allore... Sounds important... 'G: M'... That one's easy... 'O: SOL'... Isn't it supposed to be PO- Her eyes widened as she realized what it stood for. Combined with the fact that Nexian's claims that his outpost was wiped out in an instant, Solline began getting a really terrible feeling about all of this.

Before continuing on to read the rest of the card, she held the card up for either Chomp or Amielia to take. "Here..." The tone in which she uttered the word was a bit uneasy, as she was still trying to process the information to gauge the extent of the danger they were potentially in right now. She held the card between her index finger and thumb, with her index finger pointing to the line that read 'O: SOL.' Hopefully one of them would make the connection back to the Solaris. She didn't say anything else though, both not knowing what exactly to say in light of this situation and hoping her silence would convey the message well enough. As soon as one of them, or anyone for that matter, took the card from her hands, the blonde would turn off the safeties on her own rifle and walk a bit further away from the wounded operator. The sooner a perimeter is established, the better their chances are. And the sooner they can get the hell out of there, the better.​

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with: Everyone in general​

---

As everyone was assessing the situation, Chomp did his best to tend to the man's injuries. Which frankly speaking, Chomp couldn't do much. His knowledge of organic anatomy was rudimentary at best. If this was another Auxiliary suffering from a physical or digital malfunction, Chomp would be much more capable of providing medical aid, but alas the best he could do was remove whatever shrapnel or debris was stuck in the wounded GPO and make sure his arm would be reattached, which fortunately Amelia took care of. Chomp tried to remember if he's seen this GPO before on the Polaris, but he was drawing blanks. Granted it's not as if he met every GPO that operated out of the Polaris anyways, with many of them working in remote outposts long before he joined up too, so maybe this was one of such people. The large case was also a mystery. Amelia wondered if it was a Black Box, but Chomp has never seen one of this size, nor one that was white. Maybe there was a black box inside it, but until they opened it up it was unknown.

The survivor began to talk. He should recover from his injuries within a day, however his mental state was uncertain. He was clearly in some sort of shock, and possibly had been brain dead for quite some time before his apotheosis fluid regenerated any brain damage he had suffered. From his mumbling Chomp was able to make out only a few things. Firstly, this person wanted to see the Polaris Captain. Possible should he survive the journey back. And secondly, his outpost was destroyed. While Chomp would like to observe the damage himself so he could gather information on it's destruction and how to potentially counteract this in the future, Chomp also figured that it would've been too late to save anyone anyways. Then again maybe this person was just delusional and dramatizing the extent of the damage to the outpost. Organics tend to do that when they go through extreme suffering.

Hearing a gun being loaded Chomp turned his head slightly to see Nor pointing a gun at him. He was concerned at first, until he realized she was instead pointing towards the lone survivor. Chomp figured that she suspected this GPO may be compromised, possibly carrying some sort of weapon of mass destruction intent on killing them all. It was a possibility, though not one that Chomp could reasonably extrapolate from what little he knows of the situation. Though at the same time Chomp also was a bit annoyed that this GPO wasn't being very cooperative and figured that he should be able to respond by this point... Then again maybe this was also just an organic thing. Even at his worse Chomp has never had difficulties reporting and answering questions whenever he was grievously injured. But he was also an Auxiliary and damage to his physical body meant nothing to him as long as his Black Box remained intact. Because if it wasn't, that would mean he's dead. But Chomp understood that this sort of thing wasn't something that most organics, even GPO's, could do, so perhaps Nor was mistaken if she thought that this person was just as capable as Chomp at being able to understand and answer questions while under extreme physical and mental duress.

Solline intervened before Chomp had to. She explained how the survivor was in no state to be a threat to any of them, and they should really focus on securing the area first. Both were reasonable. Indeed the survivor was in no state to be a threat to them if he couldn't even speak, not to mention he's literally disarmed. That doesn't mean he isn't a threat though, just that they don't know if he could be. Soon a noise was heard from the container. Was there some sort of machine inside? Chomp debated interfacing with it. He rarely ever did so since he enjoys his physical body more than inhabiting other machines, but in instances like this were vital information was scarce, Chomp may need to do so just to figure out what they were dealing with. But what Solline mentioned was also important: This place wasn't safe. Before Chomp would try to look into this box he would need to get this person out of here. As Chomp finished patching the survivor up Solline handed him a damaged ID card. Chomp would take the card and read it aloud for everyone to hear.

"OUTPOST 755 SOL. DIRECTOR SENTINEL NEXIAN ALLORE. GENDER: MALE. ORIGINS SOLARIS. COMPOSITION ORGANIC, SIFE/HUMAN HYBRID, SILICON MAJORITY. TRAVEL AUTHENTICATION CLASS GPO NULLWALKER CLASS 10. APOTHEOSIS FLUID SAMPLE, LIME GREEN."

This provided some new information to Chomp that changes some things. While he knew this person was a GPO, he had expected them to have perhaps been another regular operator who simply escaped the chaos. But this person, Nexian Allore, was a Director Sentinel. It would be his duty to oversee the defenses of an outpost against all threats. If he was here, instead of his outpost, than it's truly destroyed. And if he was alone than there are no survivors. Someone of his rank should have at least one or two GPO's with him, considering that it would be his duty to ensure he can use them to defend his outpost. So the fact he was here alone meant he either abandoned his post or he truly is the lone survivor of a one-sided massacre. Which only made Chomp wonder just what happened.

And then there was the matter of the case. Chomp had no idea what it was. It was huge, and looked like a refrigerator, and it was attached to Nexian via wires and his hand, which looked like it was now frozen onto the handle. Which made Chomp wonder just how long this guy was out here if it was frozen solid to the handle. If he had been an actual corpse Chomp could easily have guessed it was a recent thing, but if he's been alive this whole time than surely he would've felt the pain as his hand freezes solid. So whatever was in this case was something important. Important enough that the Director Sentinel abandoned his outpost to get it to Polaris. More pertinently, it also made it incredibly hard for Chomp to actually put this guy into a body bag. It's not going to close properly with an arm sticking out.

After much deliberation, Chomp decided that he'll just try his best to fit as much of Nexian into the body bag. It was still going to be open, thus exposing him to the elements. Chomp would've tried to remove him from the case, but from the noise it made based off Nexian's physical state, Chomp assumed it was some sort of medical device. To what means, he had no clue. GPO's tend not to need such things but the fact that Nexian had wired himself to the case and doesn't show any signs of letting go told Chomp that it's important for some reason. So taking some extra rope, Chomp would bind Nexian to the mysterious container. Then Chomp would strap the container onto his back, on the opposite side of his rocket from his Impact Edge. This way Chomp can transport this person back to the Night Crawler without too much difficulty, and hopefully alleviate Nor's concerns about his potential danger's since he's now bound and wounded.

"I AM RETURNING TO THE NIGHT CRAWLER. I SUSPECT THAT THE DIRECTOR SENTINEL IS THE SOLE SURVIVOR OF OUTPOST 755. WE WILL NEED HIM TO RECOVER IF WE ARE TO OBTAIN ANY INFORMATION ABOUT IT'S DESTRUCTION AND LOCATION. DUE TO THE MYSTERIOUS CONTAINER HE CARRIES, I WILL NEED TO USE BOTH MY HANDS TO CLIMB THIS WALL. PLEASE PROVIDE COVER FOR ME AS I MAKE MY ASCENT."

 

[Lekiel]

Amiela Aeterna, BRUNHILD 059

Lime green fluid dripped all over her staining the muted greys of her gloves and body-armour with neon iridescence. At the back of the uncanny part of her mind, it reminded her of sour lime ice cream sauce from those innovative dessert parlours back on Polaris; the kind you drizzled liberally over ice cold creamy vanilla ice cream for a sweet and lip puckering treat.

Amiela tugged at his arm, trying to steady the detached part against the bleeding stump with a trauma kit consisting of medical tape and plastic splints. It was unfortunate that her ability centred around protecting, rather than mending. She also had a big gun, but the bearer of Brunhild always saw herself as more of a backline support than one that stood vanguard. Being frontline went against her fibre of being, but that didn’t mean she did not know how to make herself as useful as possible even if it was never appreciated historically. She was no qualified doctor, but she did take up some rudimentary training in field medicine especially since she dealt with a ton of injuries due to her abilities.

“Hold still-,” she tried to reassure the GPO, but he was fighting her unknowingly and she was reluctant to use more force; not yet at least. He was mumbling somewhat incoherently, being so close, Amiela caught the words ‘Polaris’. His eyes flickered in and out of focus, as if a part of him acknowledged them and his surroundings but quickly faded back into delirium.

“Wait-,” she’d almost fixed a splint into place when he suddenly shifted his entire hand to his other side, causing the meagre attachments to break away and fall to the ground. The injured boy appeared to be fishing for something in his pockets.

Amiela decided to take a momentary break to reassess the situation. Obviously given enough time, most if not all GPOs would eventually recover fully from their injuries, even ones as severe as what the boy suffered. But that didn’t mean a bit of field medicine was not required. Limbs could regrow, but reattaching them meant regaining functionality much quicker and out here so far from base, ‘much quicker’ easily meant the difference between life and death.

“I…I’m…No…N…” The boy was attempting to speak again, his voice rasping through damaged vocal chords, bringing Amiela’s attention to the shard stuck inside and adding another variable to the list of problems. Despite appearances, the throat damage was far more perilous to the GPO than a detached arm. Given how weak he was, if she extricated the shard, the boy could literally choke on his own blood if he didn’t heal quickly enough.

“What is it?” She encouraged him, her voice light. It was best he said what he could first before they dealt with his throat. It was then that her mind fully registered the rhythmic beeping coming from the black box he clutched. It immediately brought to mind two things—a bomb or a vital sign monitor. Given how he seemed to clutch the object to him, Amiela was willing to bet it was the latter.

“It’s a heartbeat,” she whispered under her breath, as the revelation hit her. Her voice loud enough that those nearby could hear. She knew the sound all too well. It haunted in her sleep, an ever present reminder of the family she lost. Years of her life spent seated by Aeria, and then Tess’ side, listening to their heart’s beat.

“I-I need…the Captain-..Polaris…Captain.”
“M-My outpost…it was……”
“Gone…in…instant-t- Danger…It’s…coming- What dest…”

It was difficult to hear, but the young man’s warning soon became clear. However before she could relay it to the rest, her comm’s was interrupted by a cold voice.

[ "Everyone, take a step back from him, please. Watch for Cross fire." ]

For a moment, the coral haired series was confused. Step back from who? Cross fire. . . where was the immediate danger? It was not until she heard the distinct clink of a loaded weapon did she realise Nor was aiming at them. Or to be precise, the injured GPO. Her survival instincts kicked into overdrive and she very nearly darted out of the way. But something held her in place, against her need for self preservation. Perhaps. . . she was tired of being called a coward. Of being accused of living for herself alone.

Nor stood a distance away, her features nearly inscrutable to her but from the way she addressed the injured operator, Amiela could only deduce that either she was not in the right mind, or was acting spontaneously with limited information. She considered her response carefully, but made no move to shift her position out of the way.

"Whoa! Hey! Are you crazy?!" A voice filled with incredulity suddenly broke the standoff. It was the blonde sniper. Amiela felt some weight lifting off her shoulders when she realised she wasn’t the only one on the team not bat shit crazy and was actually thinking about the mission.

"If you want to point a gun somewhere, point it literally any other direction aside from at the guy we're supposed to be rescuing! We should set up a perimeter anyways. Machines could strike at any moment out here and we don't wanna get caught with our pants down."

“Solline’s right.” Amiela added firmly, though her mouth was dry and her heart was pounding from staring down a barrel. Sure she could likely regenerate herself if Nor pulled the trigger, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t very aware of her own mortality at that moment. It really took all her effort just to remain in place, let alone say something.

But the GPO’s warning was clear. They had to get to the bottom of this before too late. Still very aware of a gun trained at her back, she turned as Solline held out something that had fallen out of the GPO’s pocket, noting the emphasis that Solline made. Amiela managed a full glimpse before Chomp retrieved it and promptly translated the information for the rest of the team.

She wasn’t entirely familiar with the details herself, but she knew enough to know that Nexian Allore here was head of his outpost and that he was part of the Solaris. Even more questions were raised, why was he from an outpost considering latest intel was that there was none in the vicinity? Her head began to spin, not least because she was trying very hard to suppress the threat at her back while figuring out their next course of action.

“We can’t stay here.” Her quiet voice returned. That much was certain. She looked at Chomp beside her, making a decision on the spur of the moment, “Chomp help me steady him, I need to bandage his wounds so they regenerate quicker. Then we need to think about bringing him with us,” Amiela wasn’t one to lead, but the beeping of the machine was like an ever present siren to her thoughts. She couldn’t help but feel the longer they dallied, the worse the situation got.

Fortunately, Chomp seemed to be of the same mind and together they worked to secure Nexian to the Auxiliary's back.

"I AM RETURNING TO THE NIGHT CRAWLER. I SUSPECT THAT THE DIRECTOR SENTINEL IS THE SOLE SURVIVOR OF OUTPOST 755. WE WILL NEED HIM TO RECOVER IF WE ARE TO OBTAIN ANY INFORMATION ABOUT IT'S DESTRUCTION AND LOCATION. DUE TO THE MYSTERIOUS CONTAINER HE CARRIES, I WILL NEED TO USE BOTH MY HANDS TO CLIMB THIS WALL. PLEASE PROVIDE COVER FOR ME AS I MAKE MY ASCENT."

The options branched in both directions—explore further or accompany Chomp. Amiela made up her mind immediately.

“I’ll cover you,” she offered, immediately unholstering Dainsleif and making ready to ascend the wall.

Mentions: All

 

[BnemonicDevice]

scroll me!

TIPHERETH

*Click*

"And you lot call *me* crazy."

The sound of a gun being reloaded clicked softly as she aimed her own sidearm at Nor ( Ehb ).The Albino psychologist, suprisingly-but-not-really was back in near-top condition after being impaled, save for a couple holes in the midriff area of her clothing. One could see her white skin, surrounded by a large, freshly dried, blood-stained hole. Clearly, she had taken a nice beauty nap, and everyone else had to ruin it for her.

She had woken up to the sound of arguing and dramatic monologuing that she was for sure going to be filed in on later. What was obvious to her though, was the being in front of them was definitely the source of the signal she picked up, along with--

Her eyes darted towards the box held in his hands. That was undoubtly a black box, in his hands he held an auxiliary, and another operator too-- confirmed by her own God Program.

She lowered her arm, and rushed towards the nearly-collapsing survivor that was now being strapped on Chomp's back. ( Lucius Cypher )

"He's an operator for sure. Unsure if the cube in his hand is, or *was* part of an auxiliary."

she had stated matter-of-factly aloud before entering into another stage of focus, this time not to repair herself, but to do what her program was made to do, actually help someone. One might think this is a first for her, given her volatile personality.

"You're gonna need to make some space for a carry on , big guy-"

she blankly imposed herself on him, unaware and disinterested in what the others had to say at the moment. It was now that Tiphereth jumped up and sat on the surface parallel to the ground where Chomp had strapped the large recantgular container on his back, which also had a dying corpse of an operator tied securely on it. machine. Another discharge of tinnitus could be heard when she made contact-- the signature that she leaves when she uses her Program, but now, she attempted to lend the poor survivor her own regenerative abilities.

Renedered immobile, it was as if she were just stuck in place, tethered to the box, ready to enjoy her free, hopefully not-too-bumpy ride.

♡coded by uxie♡

-->

 

[Ehb]

Nor Clyde
Mentions: Everyone in general

---

Nor was glad that Tipareth hadn't fired off her pistol.
Really glad.

When Tipareeth's blip had came up towards her, and the sound of her manipulating her firearm could be heard, Nor fought off every neuron firing in her head to preemptively retaliate before she could aim at her. The 'ambush' that Tipaareth's sudden appearance was supposed entail was far from being a real ambush if that was how it was supposed play out. Luckily, that unthinkable scenario didn't come to fruition.

Everyone seemed pretty confident that Nor wasn't going to start firing at their rescue right away with all of them there. In that assumption, they were correct - she would've not even been able to anyway.



Nor remained dissatisfied that the core question of 'what's the box' remained unanswered. She had only went to such lengths because it was apparent that everyone was weary of it, and that their rescue was having a hard time answering that inquiry.

'It's the distress beacon'
'it's my weapon'
'it's a secret I need to get to the Polaris right away'
'I'm not at liberty to say, sorry'
'it's my life support'

Any attempt at an answer to that would've avoided this whole sequence altogether.

He was very messed up, and it was harsh to be demanding an answer from him at gunpoint. But then again, the individuals gathered here were not normal people. They were GPOs whose capabilities were far beyond being taken down so lightly - and their purpose was ultimately for the continued safety and prosperity of the Polaris and it's inhabitants.

Nor was taught if that there was any belief that a threat to the Polaris was apparent, it should be brought out and either explained through or dealt with. Nor's gut feeling that the box might've had something to do with the outpost this operator came from being overrun and the possibility that bringing it back would lead whatever it was straight to their home... that felt like it should've been something worth clarifying.


There was no point now that things were moving. The team made moves to begin extraction. Nor probably made the rest of her team think she was crazy. If that was the case then it was probably best to avoid this group in future missions. Just so Nor wouldn't really end up getting shot by one of her teammates next time. But on the other hand, at least she covered her own butt in the event that box - or even this operator they were rescuing, would lead to something unfortunate down the line.

Nor did note her teammates' reactions. Solline's emotions. Chomp's Resoluteness. Amougus' Selflessness. Tipaareth's Spontaneous Nature, which was sort of already expressed. Hiberius was there too. If making a fool of herself was a price, then the knowledge of how her teammates reacted just now was the purchase.


Nor ejected what she had loaded into her rifle. A sizable casing popped out of it's chamber and she caught it in her hand. She looked at the spent casing, with it's gunpowder and lead projectile already having been fired off. If Nor had pulled the trigger there would've been a click - but no bang. She tucked the casing back into her pocket of random Junk. The operator hoped that she was just being overly paranoid.

The clone positioned herself to the perimeters and kept an eye out from the other approach directions for any hostiles as the others kept watch with Chomp extracting the team healer and the rescue back up to the surface. Hopefully this mission was going to be over soon so she could go back to her clubs.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Hiberus Shaw, Phobos Itself
Interactions: Lekiel Ehb Clockwork_Magic BnemonicDevice Mentions: Lucius Cypher Cresion Breezes


Seeing that his comrades descended upon the situation with all the gracefulness of a construction machine in a ballerina contest, Shaw had excused himself from it entirely to mend his wounds. Picking out the shards is not recommended for non-GPOs, snagging an artery-slash-vein or alternatively unblocking a blood vessel is an all too easy way to exacerbate the severity of the injury. But for Shaw, with a regenerative ranking of eight? To him, it would be as simple as pulling a splinter. Healed as quickly as a splinter too, the wounds knitting themselves close milliseconds after extraction. Though the midnight blue streams would prove difficult to be scrubbed out, that is a problem entirely for later.

Returning to the situation at hand, Shaw immediately noticed Nor with her pink irises threatening the survivor with her gun. Shaw could not help, but lower his head in abject irritation. As the terror-inducer, Shaw is awarded certain... Observations that normal people or GPOs of similar status would simply ignore or not notice altogether. The unseen frown faced Nor again as he sees—more aptly imagines—all the neurons in her skull firing off the centre of the clone's brain responsible for fear management and action, a certain level of revulsion bubbled up in Shaw's, otherwise, cold interior. An unpleasant warmth. Compounded by the fact that Tiphereth fumbled with her sidearm, further agitating the pink blooded scout.

Shaw meandered to the encirclement, examining what he could as quickly as possible to speed himself up on the situation. Chomp's reading of the outpost identification card had been an unnecessary act for the engineer as he's had experience with outpost stationees, though he figured in his absence then it was better for Chomp to read it out aloud.

"I AM RETURNING TO THE NIGHT CRAWLER. I SUSPECT THAT THE DIRECTOR SENTINEL IS THE SOLE SURVIVOR OF OUTPOST 755. WE WILL NEED HIM TO RECOVER IF WE ARE TO OBTAIN ANY INFORMATION ABOUT IT'S DESTRUCTION AND LOCATION. DUE TO THE MYSTERIOUS CONTAINER HE CARRIES, I WILL NEED TO USE BOTH MY HANDS TO CLIMB THIS WALL. PLEASE PROVIDE COVER FOR ME AS I MAKE MY ASCENT."

Shaw nodded along to Chomp's request, approaching the wall in anticipation of the ascent. When he noticed that the albino psychologist simply must exert as little energy as possible by positioning herself on Chomp's back as well. Shaw leaned against the surface and crossed his arms. "If you fall off from there, I'll cleave your legs and drag you by the wrists with hawsers." Directed at the psychologist with a subtle finger point, but Shaw's passionless pronunciation of the statement made it seem more like fact rather than threat.

Swinging around then leaping Shaw dug into the side of the cavern with sturdy robust claws, he is intimately accustomed to fighting on a cliffside so him, logically thinking, took the executive decision to cover Chomp from the front in case something came barreling at a high speed.

He hangs off with one hand, looking down. "[You know the drill, shoot down anything that descends, I'll take care of it if you miss. Brunhild, focus shielding on Chomp.]" He speaks through the team's com-channel.

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with: Everyone in general, Nor ( Ehb ), Tiphererh ( BnemonicDevice ​

---

After the situation with Nor was defused, it seems like everyone was in agreement to take Nexian back to the Night Crawler. Chomp felt some more weight on his back as Tiphererh opted to hitch a ride in his body. Considering she didn't use a rope to get down, he supposed that this would be the best way for her to reach the top without proper equipment. Chomp would provide additional rope to help secure her to his body in the event he needed to make evasive manuevers. Then she activated her powers to assist Nexian's recovery while also pointing out that the container houses another Auxiliary. or at least the remains of one. This was most curious, as Chomp has never seen a Black Box of this size or appearance before. He wondered if maybe he could extract any data from it, but there simply was no time for such an endeavor. It was time to go.

But before he would make his ascent, he looked to Nor. Everyone was surprised and appalled by her rash decision to threaten the wounded Director Sentinel, however she was not alone in her concerns. Chomp too had doubts that Nexian was as he appeared to be, and with so many questions about his origins and existence here, Chomp has little clue if the stranger could be trusted. At best, the Director Sentinel had to made an executive decision to recover a vitally important object from his outpost before it's destruction. At worse, he's a coward who threw away the lives of those who trusted him so he could save himself. Chomp simply didn't know enough about him or his circumstances to make any judgement calls. so while he has his doubts, Chomp must be impartial and at least treat him as a wounded GPO in need of extraction. Search and rescue was the mission objective after all.

Chomp walked over to Nor and patted her shoulder. The giant robotic monstrosity tried to be gentle, or at least as gentle as he could be as a GPO without the ability to actually judge his tactile strength. He wanted to assure Nor that her decision was not bad and that her skepticism is warrented. Even Chomp has doubts and he would very much appreciate if Nor continues her watch in the event that there is something amiss that the rest of them weren't seeing. Chomp says as much.

"YOUR CONCERN IS NOT MISPLACED, OPERATOR NOR CYLDE. WE CANNOT VERIFY THE INTEGRITY OF THE SURVIVOR OR THE CONTAINER HE BRINGS. HE IS A DIRECTOR SENTINEL: A GPO OF CONSIDERABLE STRENGTH AND ABILITY. AS THE SOLE SURVIVOR OF HIS OUTPOST HE WOULD BE THE ONE MOST CAPABLE OF HANDLING A POTENTIALLT VOLITILE OBJECT OF MASS DESTRUCTION. THE POSSIBILITY THAT HE IS COMPROMISED OR THAT THE CONTAINER HE POSSESS IS A THREAT IS AN UNKNOWN BUT POSSIBLE VARIABLE. YOUR CONCERN IS COMMENDABLE AND I WOUKD ENCOURAGE THAT YOU REMAIN VIGILANT. YOU ARE MERELY ENSURING OUR SAFETY IN A WORLD WHERE DANGER COMES FROM THE UNKNOWN. I APPRECIATE YOUR CONCERN FOR OUR WELLBEING."

As a means to seal Chomp's graditude to Nor's iniatitive, and hopefully to lift her mood if she felt down that no one trusts her, Chomp produced a small canvas pouch and proceeded to vomit out four 40mm explosive incinerary rounds. Rare and powerful ammunition that Chomp researched for his own uses, until he realized that even if he were to conserve weight by only using ammo he manufactured himself, he lacked the means to operate a normal sized grenade launcher in his current body. He would need it intergraded into his armor or upscale go a heavier weapon, neither which he felt was practical. But Not and her weapon were uniquely suited to be able to use these ordinances without worrying about pesky things like egronomics. Plus Chomp just hoped she would enjoy potentially being able to use an explosive incinerary grenade round and the destruction it could cause. Because explosions and fires are cool.

With his gift given and everyone ready to made the climb back up, Chomp gripped the walls and began to climb. His claws cut into the hard metallic surface with ease and even with the weight on his back Chomp showed no difficulty climbing up the wall. However the addition of Nexian and his container did limit Chomp's range of motion: he would be unable to turn his body around to face any threat that may attack him while he climbed, at least not without possibly harming the wounded GPO. His presence also made Chomp even less aerodynamic than he already was, meaning that Chomp would need to apply more energy from his rocket if he needs to use it for any manuvering, and the difference in weight and balance could throw off Chomp's already lackluster acrobatics. So Chomp truly would need the others to guard him as he climbed up the walls, as he would be unable to do so in his current state.

 

[Cresion Breezes]

POLARIS
CH.3.2 OUR REQUIEM (3)

The team was making progress upwards, Chomp, Tiphereth, Amiela were making good strides with the injured rescuee and his mysterious box. The top of the cliff was a stone’s throw away, it was so close. But then something stirred in the distance.

There was something stirring in the Shell, it wasn’t the usual dull humming nor was it the feeling of a large automaton sneaking up. This was different, totally and completely different, something that the humans present wouldn’t have felt before. It was like being on the cusp of some sort of armageddon, the Shell was always a fickle environment, it silently ate up all life and movement with its monochromatic jaws. But that’s the catch, it does it silently.

This was anything but silent, it was a hefty roar that came from the horizon, or perhaps it was the land underfoot, or even the sky itself. A rumble began shaking the world as one would with a carbonated beverage can. The layers of thick metal plating and unknown infrastructure on the Shell’s surface swayed and collapsed in the powerful quake. Dust and metal scraps began raining and sliding down the chasm’s side at a rate much faster and greater than when the Rebuilder fell. It was a seismic activity of massive proportions, perhaps it even shifted an entire chunk of the Shell itself. There was no way of identifying its source, as its power was so all-encompassing, totally wrapping any living thing in its omnipresent quake that for an instance, the world seemed to have melted away.

Nexian’s eyes widened as the quake happened. “It’s this! It’s what destroyed-” Although he seemed to have recovered somewhat due to Tiphereth’s ability, the words were still cut off with a series of dry hacks as the speaker coughed up what seemed like a lime green piece of lung tissue. However, he continued anyways. “-Before my outpost was destroyed…we felt…this.”

[Bzzt- Bzzt-]

[Everyone! We- Bzzt-]

Mavi’s voice came from the communicator, but the static was strong and her voice was soon drowned out by the haziness.

[Security Footage] - Back on Polaris

Panic was in the air, even in the Signal Analysis Department and offices of the Caravan Teams, as the mysterious quake radiated its way to the vessel. Unsecured items toppled off of desks and fell to the floor, and so did some less composed staff members. People hid under desks or ran around without an idea of what was happening, only being able to muster up guesses with their experiences confined within the dark steel vessel.

“Eek! I-is the engine stalling? Is it? Is it?”

“It’s an attack! Are we being attacked?”

“Ahhh! Ahhh!”

Screams and shouts filled the room until the quake died down, and the residential towers swayed with the quaking for a moment before finally halting to a rest. Confused and scared residents crawled out of their hiding spaces and got up from tripping over in the shaking, realizing that the destruction they feared hadn’t occurred. It was simply a powerful rumble…not powerful enough to topple Polaris, but it was clear that those on the outside would not be as lucky.

“Attention all! Pull yourselves together and issue return commands for all teams on exterior missions right now!”

After the static of the screens has faded and signals reestablished, a blue-haired auxiliary immediately showed up at the scene, or various scenes.

“I’m issuing an executive order to immediately recall all caravans right now, that seismic event would have activated a large number of hostile automatons, tell all teams to abandon any mission objectives and retreat right now! Focus on getting in contact with distant teams, I’ll handle bulk missions below Class 6 personally.” Halley Edmann said, in a much more stern voice than his usually casual tone. “All dismissed.”

The atmosphere in the room was tense, but the staff members quickly nodded and began to return to their workstations and initiated the necessary communications.

“...C-commander Edmann!” A young operative perked up her head from her workstation. “...There’s one team out of communications range…it’s-”

“I know.”

“I know which team it is.” Halley replied, averting the young operative’s gaze.

-----"Please convince them to get out of there if anything goes wrong.”-----

[Mavi…please…]

When the quake subsided there wasn’t much room to breathe, as troves of machines rushed out of crevices and began galloping around. They didn’t seem to be interested in the humans in the chasm, but the sheer numbers of them created a stampede at the bottom of the chasm. Wormbus and various models of Carriers scurried around in a rampage without rhythm or reason, dashing up and down walls and the paths, ramming into each other and squeezing each other upwards. In the distance, a few more Rebuilders fell, this time due to something in the Shell itself rather than any human input. The dust clouds that kicked up and still twitching parts that flurried around joined the massive wave of machines.

[G-Guys…It’s me, Mavi.]

Her voice was shaking and still a bit static-y, though much more audible right now. She took a deep breath before continuing to speak, her voice seemed much more hesitant and unconfident than before.

[...There’s a command from Polaris. We need to retreat, now. ASAP.]

“That quake is going to throw all machines in the vicinity into a frenzy, that Mavi person is right, we have to get away." Nexian mumbled quietly after he overheard the words on Chomp and Tiphereth's communicators, he went quiet for a moment afterward, however. He had wrapped the binding rope around his bone-splintered arm and clenched part of it in his teeth, trying to firmly secure the box to himself, but now he is easing his grip on the box and seemingly relinquishing his grasp on it, realizing the reality of the situation at hand. With his now free and still intact hand, frostbitten with pieces of skin torn off on the box’s handle, he pulled out a cracked and dulled carbon fiber long sword. "...Leave me if you have to, I know I won’t be much help…but…can you at least…bring Xun-...I mean, my cargo, to Polaris? They’re more important…than anything I’ll ever be.” His voice was weary, but also strangely happy, it was an euphoric happiness like a huge amount of weight was taken off of the young man's shoulders. Although no one could see, he smiled to himself quietly.

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions: Everyone​

---

Solline watched from the perimeters of the formation as the others gathered and gave their thoughts on the situation with their survivor, with the albino self-proclaimed psychologist going so far as to draw her sidearm and pointing it at Nor when the clone pointed her own weapon at Nexian. Thankfully, Tiphereth holstered her gun before Solline could hold her at gunpoint, making it a triple standoff, and yell some sense into her. Shortly after, she heard the voice of the masked operator came through her communicator, lifting her left hand up to her ear to activate comms after he finished speaking. ["Yea, got it."] She said in reply to Shaw's first statement. Before beginning her own ascent with the rest of the team, taking a position in the rear of the formation like last time, she took a glance at her left forearm where it was sliced open from the fall of the Rebuilder. The wound itself had already sealed, the bleeding having having stopped a long time ago, however her left sleeve now had a massive hole in it and was soaked in yellow blood. The blonde made a mental note to herself to throw the uniform she had on when she returned back to the Polaris. A shame, really, she thought this uniform would have lasted longer. Oh well, that's what spares are for anyways. Reattaching herself to the rope system she used to descend the chasm, she prepared to ascend the cliff face, once again taking a position near the rear of the team's formation.

After a while of climbing, with the team's vanguard looking like they're nearing the top of the cliff, a rumbling sound and sensation began to envelop the area once again, one much louder and much more violent than the one from before, the source of which appearing to be from the Shell itself rather than a falling Rebuilder. Much like when the Rebuilder fell, the quake sent metal scraps hurling down onto the expedition team's position, much more and much faster than with the Rebuilder's fall. Solline once again braced herself, shielding her head from the oncoming rain of metal and bringing herself as close to the cliff face as possible. Several holes were torn into the blonde's uniform as random metal debris slashed her before falling further down the chasm, accompanied by the yellow blood that flowed out of the freshly created cuts in her body, most of them being on the dorsal side of her body due to the nature of her positioning. A handful of her sustained cuts were deep, however the rest, shallow and relatively quick to heal as they may be, were still pretty painful in their own right, like getting aluminum foil cuts all over your back and parts of your arm.

Static could be heard in the blonde's earpiece communicator as someone was trying to communicate with the team, presumably their driver, however the transmission had too much static to really make any sense of what Mavi was trying to say. Well, that and it's hard to concentrate on a radio message when there's still a massive quake going on. As the quake began to subside, Solline was about to take a take a breather before she heard the chaotic sound of several machines starting to scurry about filled the area as a horde of machines rushed right through the formation. Thankfully, it didn't seem like the machines were after them specifically, but one doesn't exactly sit in the middle of a stampede of machinery unscathed without getting tossed and bruised around a bit. Solline tried to steady herself as firm as she could, clutching her hands and gritting her teeth in pain, when she heard the news of the retreat order from Mavi. ["YA THINK?!"] She yelled into the communicator as the chaotic stampede around the team continued. ["There's a whole damn swarm of machines out here!"] The blonde readied her rifle and aimed her scope upward, her arms aching from the cuts from the falling metal and bruises from the stampede. The swarm of machines, while not actively attacking the team, was still blocking their route. ["I think I might be pinned down here! Don't see a way up from where I'm at! Gonna start shooting to clear a path up for myself but I'm not sure if that'll be effective enough, my gun isn't exactly built for combat that's this close range!"] A look of quick realization formed on her face as she remembered that there was one thing that could work, to be more precise 5 of them, but she needed to use them wisely. Solline reached down to one of the pouches on her waist where she kept her 5 explosive rounds for special situations and drew one round. Now or never! She ejected the round already in Thanatos's chamber, caught it, put it in her spare ammo pouch, loaded in the explosive round, and took aim at the densest concentration of machines ahead of her. ["Heads up! Firing an explosive round!"] She yelled the notice through her communicator, pulling the trigger shortly after. The explosion created by the round was a bit larger than one created by a hand grenade but still less than the rounds you would use in a dedicated grenade launcher. After the explosion, Solline would fire 3 more times, this time with the usual AP rounds that were in the magazine, at the machines ahead of her, lining up the shots as much as possible to take out as many of them as she could with each shot. Once it looked relatively safe to start ascending again, the blonde shouldered her rifle and switched to her sidearm, as it would be easier to use when actively scaling a cliff face to fend off machines that come too close, and began climbing as quickly as the current situation allowed. ["Forget what I said earlier, got a path cleared up for myself for the time being, coming up to where you lot are!"]

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Hiberus Shaw, Phobos Itself
Interactions: Lucius Cypher Clockwork_Magic Mentions: Cresion Breezes and Everyone else.


The situation up to the double standoff between Nor and Tiphereth replayed in Shaw's head whilst ascending the Shell's cliff. Out of the metal disks in his wrists, he twists ropes of digital carbon fibre with pitons on the end into the sheer surface of the wall. It was perhaps the quiet monotony coupled with the hollow of back wind squeezed by the chasm's form that dulled Shaw's senses, forcing him to replay the only interesting albeit wrongfully amusing moment in this whole charade of a mission. The question that clung to his throat with an acidity reminiscent of spoiled food was the significance of it all. The words of Edmann, the provider of this mission, seemed selfishly situated now. He was an auxiliary much like Chomp though unlike him, this Edmann possessed scruples centered around secrecy, Shaw himself couldn't find anything about him. As if his history became a droplet that trickled onto a heating pipe, gone into steam then never to be reconstituted. An odd sense of empathy bloomed up in Shaw's wretched, hunk of iron that he calls a heart. Before it was washed into the bottomless void with the careless boredom belonging to a simulated reality viewer.

There was a silent tremor in his hands while gripping the black thread. The top so close, yet so far at the same time. His eyes, hard as the stars cloaked in midnight blue, stared at his hands in captivating bewilderment. A thousand questions raced in his head about this. None of them providing the inkling of an answer. The dog-eared terror spreader then heard a rumble. Powerful, primordial, pervasive. Filled with the shuddering rage a man feels when he is brought to the lowest point in his mere existence, choosing to lash out against the indignation of his being. Did he anticipate this? The rumbling? The tattered strands of his tech-jacket flailed about, disturbed by the vibrations from metal to body to fibre.

The rumbling subsided soon, but Shaw's hands did not. "Shocking," Shaw bleated low to himself, communication muted by blink clicking through his helmet. A fruitless motion to privacy as a burst of static surged through their channel, immediately forcing Shaw to reopen his line to the team. Their flier, Mavi, spoke with an untold urgency in her voice; what little that Shaw could decipher from the buzzing anyway. A thalassic wave of machines barreled down, no doubt agitated into a frenzy by the quake moments ago. Immediately, Shaw being at the forefront of their diamond formation became swamped with creatures of metal and limbs of plasteel. He pulled a hand back, letting a piton vanish. The digits on his free hand creaked and cracked, then stacked with digital constructions. Shaw's body became battered by the weight, but he bit his cheeks and endured. A weapon formed his right hand though it resembled an umbrella or the blades of a blender. The fact that the three blades spun with mirror frenzy to the drones did not help the resemblance. Through Chomp's line, he heard their rescued survivor beg to be cut loose to increase their chances. ["Belay that order, mission status is not critical"] He commanded. Shredded bits of robot flung down and away, but the shredder that Shaw made soon burst into shards of digital information. He knew that he did not have enough time for such a complicated contraption, so he assumed an easier form —a shield, angled down the middle and a claw for stabbing into the wall. He swatted the drones away, the smoothness of the shield prevented them from stacking up and also moved them away from his allies' position as he climbed.

["Sniper, ready an HE when we encounter a wormbus"]

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with: Everyone in general, Soline Clockwork_Magic , Shaw Worthlessplebian ​

---

The climb upwards was steady, but by no means was it easy. On his own Chomp would have easily scaled this wall with no trouble but due to the presence of his passengers he needed to move in a much calmer fashion, less he drop anyone. This meant no leaping from place to place, but a slow and methodical accent one step at a time. Though that's not to say he didn't feel some measure of enjoyment from this slower pace. It reminds him of his earlier days, before he became the war machine he was now. A small, skinny robot that climbed not to hunt, but to escape predators by the machines who saw him as little more than spare parts on the run. Not that he intends to go back to those times, he much prefers the strength he has now. Simply that, should he find himself in a similar situation as he was in the past, he is now much better equipped to handle himself than before.

His nostalgia trip was cut short however with the rumbling. While not a new occurrence, Chomp really did not want to be here right now. Quakes of this caliber has a nasty habit of altering the terrain and the last thing he wants is to literally be between a wall and a hard place when that happens. Even his considerably bulk would not be able to withstand the terrestrial tons of weight being shifted and crushing him. So Chomp had to climb faster, forgoing the safety and comfort of his passengers to get out.

"HOLD ON TIGHT."

The others were trying to get out, and Chomp wanted to help them. But before he could help them he had to help himself and continued to climb, leaping from the wall upwards. Rubble began to fall, forcing Chomp to jump onto them and jump off in the same movement, the biting wind blistering his passengers from the sheer wind force. But Chomp had the misfortune of being on a part of the wall that broke off, quickly causing him to fall towards the chasm. Below were an ocean of machines, too many even for Chomp to deal with. Thinking quickly Chomp activated his rocket and burst forward towards the wall. Smashing into it, he noticed Soline was temporarily pinned down. While she cleared a path, the rope that Chomp had previously set was no longer present, and thus would force Soline to climb by hand. Chomp had doubts she could handle it while also defending herself. So Chomp would lend a helping hand. Leaping over to her, Chomp shields Soline from falling debris while extending his hand out as a platform to her. When she gets onto his hand, he looks upwards.

"BRACE YOURSELF."

And with a mighty mechanical throw, Chomp throws Soline pass falling shell walls, hostile machines, and other GPO's, sending her hundreds of feet over the chasm in under a second. He threw her with such force that a normal human would have at best, passed out from the sheer force, or more likely have their bodies mangled as if they were struck by a heavy vehicle. Fortunately GPO's are made of sterner stuff and Soline should have plenty of time to clear more routes for the other operatives from her vantage point as Chomp rocketed his way up to the top, almost running up the wall while using his rocket booster to maneuver and avoid obstacles.

Once at the top Chomp wasted no time slinging both of his Butcher Blades into what he would hope to be solid ground, to brace himself, as he positioned his head over the chasm where the other GPO's were. And from his gaping maw Chomp began to spit out knotted metal ropes, so that other operatives could grab on. When he feels a tug from the rope he would grab it and begin pulling it up with as much force as he could muster, to assist the other agents in escaping this death trap and getting everyone to safety.

 

[BnemonicDevice]

scroll me!

TIPHERETH

The Psycho-Psychologist jolted in place as Chomp's movements came as a response to the frantic situation. The tremble that brought forth a fury of Wormbuses and Carriers down below sending all of their team members into a state of panic.

Yet, the distant Tiphereth never once felt that anxiety.

She clutched in her arms the rusted sword bequeathed onto her from Nexian's hands Cresion Breezes , hearing him out and his emotional pleas to be cut off, claiming that the Blackbox had more information than whatever worth he assigns himself for being the last one of his Outpost last standing.

Clearly suffering from survivor's guilt. Patient expresses defeatist attitude, clearly has given up on living.

She instantly came to the conclusion as the words and memorized scenarios rush to her-- yet in this moment of zen, it came crashing with the rush of wind as a result of Chomp's ( Lucius Cypher ) desperate climb. She could see both herself and the man in green in front of her almost sliding off the back of the mechanical beast they were riding.

She lurched forward, the top of the case near parallel with the wall, meaning that she was about to enter a free-fall if it were not for the ropes tied to her. But she noticed that the box containing the lone survivor beginning to slip as a result of her body loosening the strings that held them both together. Even so...

["...Even if you won't be of much help right now, your experience and sorrow is nonetheless priceless,"

she concluded. Somehow- admist all the chaos, it was as if she was the only one speaking any sense.

Deciding now was the opportunity to move, she proceeded to tumble forward- forced off his back as soon as he got down to save the markswoman ( Clockwork_Magic ). Deftly manuevering her body off the harnesses of the ropes, now that she was free, she used the freely slacked rope to tightly keep Nexian on the Auxilary's six. Her efforts were cut short though, as Chomp wound up to hurl Soline, she was not the only person now hurling down towards the ground below.

Fuck.

["Not alarm you guys, but it seems that I've been shaken off Chomp's back-- *THUD*"]

Five Seconds. She was not as high as she was before, but damn- she definitely shouldn't have thrown herself down the first time.

She looked in her hands, holding the rusted blade given to her- she continued speaking from her communicator.

["Dolos. ( Worthlessplebian ) I'm on -250m below ground. Can you tell me how to use a sword?"]

She was holding the rusted sword she swiped from cargoperson above and was actually considering wielding it for a while before going back to her sidearm. If worst came to shove... she could always try to use her GP on herself... but she wants to see if a quicker rescue comes first.

Regardless, she made her way back to the ropes dropped by Chomp in hopes to come back with some of her limbs attatched to her body.

♡coded by uxie♡

-->

[/QUOTE]

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions:
Responding to Shaw ( Worthlessplebian ) | Getting launched by Chomp ( Lucius Cypher ) | Providing covering fire for Tiph ( BnemonicDevice ), Nor ( Ehb ), and Amiela ( Lekiel ) ​

---

As the blonde ascended the cliff face, the sounds of metal crashing and screeching filled her ears as the others began reacting to the situation, followed by Shaw's voice over comms. ["Yea, sure, but I only have 4 left."] She said in response to the masked operator's suggestion as more machines stampeded past her. Solline took aim at a carrier that was too close for comfort to her current position on the cliff face with Mercury, sending a hail of relatively small caliber rounds towards the machine's weaker looking parts, knocking it out of commission with the pull of a trigger, accompanied by a small click sound as the slide to her pistol locked into place. "Tch..." Really burning through mags here... With the push of a button, the now empty magazine fell out of the gun and dropped into the depths below where a massive pile of machines was slowly amassing. A few awkward movements associated with trying to reload a pistol with one hand later and she was back online. How much longer to the top... While it was true that her physical enhancements rating of 5 granted her a good amount of endurance when scaling the cliff face, it's also true that even such enhancements can go so far, especially when you're repeatedly getting stalled in your ascent by a horde of frenzied machines and you’re climbing by hand.

Before she could start ascending again, she heard the sound of metal crashing above her, looking up to see some debris coming her way and subsequently shielding herself once again in the manner like before. However, while she was bracing herself for that same sharp, stinging sensation as shards of metal sliced her for what would be the third time now, that sensation never arrived. Looking up revealed the reason why, as Chomp was shielding her from the debris, the albino series still on his back, while also extending his hand. Normally I’m this situation, it would be to pull someone up, but the metal giant known as Chomp was, well, a giant, so it would be a more apt assumption to assume he wanted her to step onto his hand as a sort of platform. “Thanks…” As she stepped onto his hand, she holstered her pistol and once again drew her rifle, switching the magazine to a full one, giving her nine shots to fire, including the one in the chamber. “Say… I kind of need a vantage point, think you could-“ Before she could finish her sentence, the auxiliary told her to brace herself, to which she obliged. Like you read my mind.

Within a second, she was no longer standing on the palm of Chomp’s hand but soaring high up through the air, the force of her acceleration forcing her hood down, allowing her blonde hair to flow freely in the wind. Sure, the was the issue of how she would get back down without becoming a splat on the ground, but right now the sensation of freely flying in the air just made her feel so strangely... free. It was as if all her worries were getting further and further away until they faded into irrelevancy as she herself got further and further away from the ground. If only she could leave it all behind. If only...

The strange sense of bliss lasted for a mere seconds before the albino psychologist's voice came over her communicator, who had apparently once again managed to send herself off a ledge. She looked down at the chasm. "That dumbass." Saying that out loud, taking advantage of the fact that no one is around to hear her, before taking aim with Thanatos and activating her goggles' range finding system as she connected a wire from her goggles to her rifle's scope. Various overlays appeared in the peripheries of her vision. Distance from target. Relative height. Speed and velocity of the target and herself. Speed of the round currently in the chamber. Air resistance. Wind speed and direction. And so on. Each of these overlays being filled with numbers, most of them rapidly changing, as she pressed a button on her rifle, marking the targets. The numbers themselves were not important, there was a reason they were in the peripheries after all, what is relevant to the blonde were the trajectories laid out before her. Apollo can't predict what exact sudden, drastic changes in movement pattern the target might perform, however it does make a handful of guesses on possible positions the target might move to and it's up to Solline to use her sniper intuition to pick out which was the most likely scenario and fire accordingly.

She aimed her sights to where the "psychologist" was, who was currently making her way to the ropes that Chomp had spat out. All well and good except for the fact that the area was still swarming with stampeding machinery and Tiphereth only had a sidearm to defend herself with. The blonde took aim at a group of machines that were nearing the albino's position, lining up her shot with help of Apollo to make sure she would take out as much of them with one round before pulling the trigger. Not waiting to see if that first round would hit or not, she did the same three times over to three other groups of machines heading in Tiphereth's general direction. The recoil from each shot kicked the blonde slightly backwards, a bit of a weird sensation to her due to the fact that she was mid-air and not on solid ground. "Should buy her enough time... probably.... Now, where are the other two..." She quickly scanned the battlefield for Nor and Amiela. Nor was positioned at the perimeters of the formation, machines stampeding in her direction, as they were with everyone else. Solline fired three shots at the stampeding machines. Though it wouldn't destroy all of them, it would make Nor's ascent easier. The blonde quickly redirected her focus to Amiela's position, who was near Chomp and the others, firing her last two rounds at the machines bearing down on her position.

At this point, Solline was now falling back towards the ground, gaining speed every second. ["I'd appreciate it if someone would catch me or break my fall!"] She yelled into her communicator over the turbulent sounds of air caused by her descent. She quickly ejected the spent mag out of her rifle and loaded in a new one, chambering a round after. She was losing altitude fast, but still had some time to clear a path under herself, which she did by firing 2 shots in quick succession to dispose of some of the machinery in her trajectory. Now, it was just a matter of waiting to see what would happen: her hitting the ground at terminal velocity or someone or something breaking her fall.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Hiberus Shaw, Phobos Itself
Interactions: Lucius Cypher Clockwork_Magic Mentions: And the others


The tidal wave of robot mass was beginning to finally wear on Shaw's arms as he sprinted up the wall, carving an arrow shaped path with clangs and bangs. The tormentor heard through his communication unit, Soline informing him of her HE ammo status. There had been no answer from the masked man, instead he pulled out one of his ruby-red pistols to unload upon the stampeding horde of the situation. Unlike the sniper's larger than pistol calibre ammo, Shaw's weapons served to steer the scuttling robots off the path. A static buzz like that of a vidscreen going haywire emanated from Shaw's shield. Shaw prefers not to do on the fly modifications, but he did not want to fire blindly ahead.

Their optics were an easy target at this uncomfortably close range, though the limited magazine meant that he would not have many shots. The dry click of Shaw's pistol was louder than the swirling mass in front of him. He thumbed a button, dropping an empty mag into the bottomless pit below them just as Soline was doing. Slamming the butt of his pistol on the belt, Shaw fed it another cartridge then clicked the slide. Compared to the firepower of the others, it did not provide much but it did lessen the strain on Shaw's arm.

Then his comm-unit itched Shaw with all the joy of a skin rash on the buttocks. Their patently insane, whiter than bleached rice, hyperanalytic psychologist had just informed Shaw that she had fallen off the ledge for the second time of this mission. The passionless, stone cold, artistic painting that is Shaw's face twitched with a degree of anger, jaded eagerness, and disappointment. Before he could respond, a Solline-shaped bullet whizzed passed his position. He forced his neck to turn to see her, before looking down at Chomp. Making the assumption that he threw her for an advantageous vantage point. "Not bad." He commented being mildly impressed at their cooperation. He began to calculate her trajectory while continually pushing with the barricade

["Tiph, swing with your hips, slide the sword instead of just hitting."] He gave Tiph a quick tip, it dawned on Shaw that he'll have to equip her with the snippets of swordsmanship when they get back to the Polaris.

Three to five seconds later, Solline would've reached the apex of her trajectory which meant that the Shell's gravity would soon wrench her down. Shaw's prediction came true when the sniper yelled into their channel. Shaw flung his shield to the side, holstered his pistol then leaped onto the backs of the rushing wave. Riding the back of the wave. A quick glance to Solline's position proved to be everything that Shaw needed to draw an imaginary line from him to her, informed by the rudimentary knowledge of physics. "I am in need of your services," The ghoul-masked man spoke, his hand pistoning into the wave to retrieve a bot. He twisted his body in the air, throwing the bot in the air before jumping after it. The blue marbles locked onto Solline's form. Shaw bounced himself off further, using the bot as a midair stepping stone. From his wrists came ribbons of hexagonal shapes edged with silver plates lengthwise. He swung his left hand at the falling sniper. The deep blue ribbon touched then wrapped around her form actuated by the twisting silver plates.

"Acquired." Shaw spoke, plucking the sniper from the air.

With the sniper secured, shooting the strand at the cliff was the next move. The thread's metallic rim bit into the surface before Shaw used it to heave himself and the sniper over the top. "Brace." He commanded, skidding his feet across the surface allowing his body to take the brunt of obstacles. Once grounded to a halt, Shaw allowed Solline down before rushing to assist Chomp by keeping the auxiliary clear while he pulled up their fellows.

 

[Cresion Breezes]

POLARIS
CH.3.3 OUR REQUIEM (4)

Even as the huge tremor give away back into a light rumble that stirred in the distance, the onslaught of moving machines didn’t seem to stop. Most of them seem to be preferring the route of least resistance, which would be the relatively flat ground in the chasm rather than the vertical jagged edges of the walls. The initial swarm of machines came out of the wall crevices to get to a more fluid path, but as more and more of the automatons charted their course the number of enemies on the walls and surface near the cliff began to stabilize and dwindle.

[-..Ugh…Mavi here…What was that!?]

The static-y sound from the communicator indicated that something similar must have happened on the surface, although the wide open space would’ve provided a more spacious area for the machines to scurry around in, lessening the risk of being trampled by the wave of automatons.

[All systems still functional, they seem to be letting up…but they’re all heading towards the direction of the Polaris…]

Mavi added in regards to the observation of the bots on the surface. Although the machines on the surface seem to be heading toward the general direction of Polaris, the limited geography of the chasm would paint another picture. Rather than towards the Polaris, it seemed more like they were running away from the direction opposite of the Polaris…there was an epicenter to this quake, and the machines fanned out, and their trajectory is getting away from that center. Though such analysis might be a luxury for those who’ve been caught in the heat of the battle.

The blonde sniper was much safer now that she’s joined her allies upon the wall, only a few machines that were equipped enough for such vertical transportation to be defaulted to roam around, and seemed keener on moving away than attacking anything. As long as one stayed upon the vertical surface through some method, the risk of being overrun by sheer numbers was minimal. Anyone who would be knocked to the ground, however, would encounter a much different fate.

Solline’s rounds have actually hit a larger machine that was crawling towards Tiphereth, it seemed like a good way to deter danger from her. But things often didn’t go as planned. The larger machine powered down with a hum as the damage from the shots forced it to do so, and as soon as life petered out of the large machine, all the smaller ones that were previously avoiding the area due to its prescient lost their deterrent. A large swarm of smaller machines, which were all still nearly the size of an average adult anyways began rushing past and onto the large machine’s remains. Some hopped off, hurling themselves forward, some directly at the unfortunate psychologist operator still stuck on the bottom.

As the pack of machines flowed down the chasm they created what seemed like a pale gray wave, one that drowned out the also pale gray operator that was beneath it all.

Upon the walls, Nexian looked at the bottom of the chasm blankly for a few seconds before grabbing onto Chomp and shifting the angle of his body to be closer to Chomp’s communicators.

[“Secure yourself! Don’t get washed away!”]

He shouted directions towards the white-haired operator trapped below.

[“We have to retrieve her soon, there’s no way back if you get carried off! There’ll be nothing left, just like what happened to…to…”]

His words trailed off once more into raspy breathing, although it is difficult to tell whether he was unable to say them due to his injuries, or just plain unwillingness.

 

[BnemonicDevice]

DON QUXIOTE

TIPHERETH

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *click* *click* *click*

Twelve rounds. Twelve corpses of carriers lay at the Albino's feet. Frustrated that she was out, she scoffed, and re-hilted her sidearm to her waist as she tried to continue making her way back to one of the safety ropes left for them. She grimaced at hearing Nexian ( Cresion Breezes ) clamor to save her-- clearly more guilt forming in his mind if another soul dares put themselves on the line for that wallowing director. He'll make for a fun patient, for sure.

As she was fantasizing on having a new tormentable toy, her other favorite Operator ( Clockwork_Magic ) was doing her the solid of clearing out more monsters behind her. For a moment she was relived and about to take a breather, but not a second later she saw Wormbuses and Carriers follow at her heels in even greater numbers.

["...Nice shot. At least you know where I am, but... now they know too. I give you my sincerest gratitude, Orphaned One."] the sarcasm and spite oozed off our psychologist's voice, clearly not looking forward to the healing process she would have to go through, especially having already dealt with a Rebuilder's Arm. She wasn't in the mood to do any more heroics.

Speaking of which, her legs became more heavier and heavier the more she tried to carry herself. The gnawing and nipping of these tiny machines weren't helping either. Slowing from a run, to a speed-walk, to a brisk stride, to now a limp. Clearly, she didn't have the physical fortitude to be in combat, yet she is forced to be situated so close it its tightly knit jaws. With safety too far, and a painful recovery so near- she weighed her options. All she had was a projectile, a rusty sword, and a limping body that doesn't want to heal, even despite having the maximum regenerative factor.

Maybe it was through fatigue, or overuse both on herself, on her allies, and on their survivor. Or perhaps-- she considered cursing the shockwave that took Nexian's outpost down under. If that was the reason for her inhibited factor, today must definitely be the day.

...

Don Quxiote was a weird name for a God Program, especially one named after a man. But why this was so, Tiphereth had long mused before-- was because of its special properties. How she applied it right now, was that it was a healing agent. But in truth, it was only an effective healing agent because the albino herself had gained a ridiculous regenerative factor.

But for her predecessors, they were able to make manifest their own... self, their own core attributes. It wasn't just strength, it wasn't just endurance, it wasn't just regeneration. They were able to project their own character and egos upon the world, and to impose their fantasies upon reality for a short while. It came in the form of weapons, of flight, or of a self-dosage of combat drugs for some extra grit or courage.

This miniature world of delight that they could create, even for just a short moment- to them, it seemed like utter ecstasy.

But to the outside world...

Could it be no different than sheer madness?

. . .

She long since pondered whether she had to carry a weapon or don some protective equipment on her person... but- when she saw her siblings merely create their own, she neglected the possibility of ever having to carry one.

And now, she gets to see the consequences of her actions.

And fuck. It was harder than it looked.

. . .

Electricity sparked across her body as she began to feel herself heat up. as she held out her hands as if she were wielding a blade- and so, in front of her a blade appeared. A Zweihander whose hilt pushed against her midriff and whose blade reached the ground. As she hefted it, she could feel her legs begin to buckle, her brain roaring and screaming-- crying out the impending collapse.

She tried to wipe the blood off her open bite wounds, trying to at least clean her hands to get a good grip. It wasn't the pure white that she was used to... it was murky, reddish and pinkish even, uncertain as to whether the rest of her body was benefiting from her God Program.

As she wheezed and heaved for air, she immediately swung in her general vicinity, throwing off any mechanical monstrosities clinging to her person. Lactic acid rushed to her underused arms, joining her legs in mutinying against her mind. She saw in front of her that she only could get off about six or seven of her pursuers.

Turning her back towards the chasm's wall, she recalled the words the Dolos wielder gave her ( Worthlessplebian ). She tried to take a headcount. Thirty. No, at least forty left. Some of them entire Wormbuses.

And so, with the last of her leg strength, she leaped a good distance above, and in that short-hop, she raised her blade- not caring for the direction, or trying to find a target. . .

Turn. Swing. Slash in a line.

Her blade arced from her feet on the left, horizontally all the way to her other side on the right. It extended itself, a phantasm curving brightly, metal grinded against metal in a high-pitch squeal for a moment.

And what came as a result was. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

Nothing. She had manifested a dull blade, similar to the rusted antique hidden in her breastpocket. It was hollow, empty and pointless. There was no bite, no ferocity, no strength of will.

And that kind of passion could never be found,

In someone who believes that they will die.

. . .

No machine was troubled by her swing, their advance was not halted. And as Tiphereth came crashing down to Earth, she was left vulnerable for them to descend upon her ailing body.

MENTIONS

[SCROLL ME!] In general, just about everyone.
Code written by: Pyosimros

 

[Lekiel]

Amiela Aeterna, BRUNHILD 059

The primal groan of the Shell shook Amiela to her core causing her to pause mid-stride along the side of the cliffs. Even for the relatively experience GPO, she’d never heard of such a phenomenon before. The very land seemed to rumble and quake as dark clouds of foreboding crept up to the surface, threatening to induce a rising tide of panic in the one that perpetually feared for her mortality.

“It’s this! It’s what destroyed-” Nexian struggled to speak, “-Before my outpost was destroyed…we felt…this.”

“Let’s go, let’s go!” the coral haired woman broke from her stupor as the rumble subsided, quickening her pace as much as her boots allowed. The hydraulic pressure grips under her soles hissed under the strain of her movement; something within her knew it was the calm before the storm.

But it was too late. The sea of automatons was only heralded by the sudden clatter and clink of thousands upon thousands of metallic legs breaking the surface of the crust of the Shell. The ensuing rush was a mix of desperate melee, obstacle dodging and rock climbing all lumped into one as their little group was swallowed up in the rush of carriers and wormbus. Teeth gritted, Amiela drew her long dagger and began hacking and slashing against the mass of carriers that got in their way, sometimes going so far as to body them to the side. She briefly considered deploying Dainsleif to clear the way, but considering their precarious footing, the bulky heavy rifle could jeopardise her footing and she had no intentions of falling back into the thick of things if she could help it.

But no sooner had the thought crossed her mind when things began to turn to shit. Soline was separated from the company, Chomp deciding to lend aid despite already lugging around the heavily wounded descended to the lower level putting himself, and his injured compatriots, in harm's way.

“Don’t-!” Amiela warned but the Auxiliary had already leaped. Turning to follow their descend, Amiela stretched out her arm and concentrated, a pale pink aura radiated outwards to encompass Nexian shielding him from harm. Unfortunately for Tiphereth, their resident psychologist had become dislodged during Chomp’s powerful acrobatic slinging of their sniper. She wasn’t sure, but unlike before, Amiela was quite sure she’d seen Tiph securing Nexian with her own harness before she’d begun falling.

Amiela’s heart sank and in those few seconds it took for the pale haired albino to hit the ground, an all too familiar panic threatened to overwhelm her. She was dead. There was nothing they could do. She brought this on herself, if she’d not willingly gotten herself injured before she would have been stronger and would not have fallen. She turned her gaze away, forsaking Tiph to her fate. Mayhap one of the others would help, subjecting themselves to the risks involved. Not her. Not her.

Live Amie.

She blinked. The fading echoes of a dearly missed voice drowned out by the rush in her ears as the bearer of Brunhild found herself in a self-inflicted freefall headed to the lower levels. She didn’t even have time to ponder what had caused her sudden change of heart, focusing instead on the rapidly approaching rocky ground.

Amiela hit the ground feet first with an audible crack. Pain shot up through her legs but she endured it through gritted teeth and watery eyes. A blip in her HUD indicated hairline fractures all along her tibia and femur but she ignored it. Knees bent to absorb the impact as much as she could, she quickly righted herself and retrieved Dainsleif from her back in one fluid motion. The rifle hummed to life microseconds before a barrage of well-placed energy bolts carved a corridor through the mass of machines for Tiphereth to get back to the wall.

“C’mon, RUN!” She shouted at the ailing psychologist.


Mentions: All

 

[Ehb]

Nor Clyde
Interactions: Lekiel BnemonicDevice
Mentions: Everyone in general

---

The only goal at this point was to survive, return back to the rover, return back to the Polaris, avoid being devoured by the sea of machines that were now in electric frenzy all across the landscape. The group was generally going all out in trying to escape and cover one another. Nor had ultimately made the choice to head upwards last after the others. She was confident that she wouldn't have much trouble getting back up.

During the initial descent, the auto-mapper for terrain in Nor's head baubles was mapping out the features of the cliff face that they had scaled down. Despite the trouble caused by one of the Re-builders falling down, her mapper still had an optimal route for going back up. This route, instead of scaling up rope, was instead to be done by jumping from ledge-to-ledge, all the way back to the top. This was normally an impossible task, but Nor was not in any-way normal either.

With that confidence, Nor continued to cover the rear. Trusting that the others would be able to move up just fine.


It did not take long for the swarm to start to encroach upon her position. They were getting close enough that, upon observing a couple of shots from above hitting there mark down below, Nor drew out her rifle. There were so many of them, so many of them that trying to mow them down with her gun was a token gesture. Still, it was at that moment that she remembered she was loaded down with essentially max capacity for ammo, having remembered Chomp had helped max her ammo out. There were the three explosive grenades that Chomp had handed her too, but it was something best saved for a less confined space.

And so, Nor began blasting.
She aimed at one in the distance, and shot, saw it go down. She loaded another round in. Repeat the process. Over and over. She eyed over her shoulder and kept glancing at her Hud till it could get to a point that she could begin to ascend herself.


That did not happen.
Instead, it seemed Tiphereth had smashed herself back into the ground, and was now attempting to fend off the carriers attacking her. Amadom immediately went to support her, lest she be overwhelmed by the machinations that saw her as an easy target. Nor also moved to assist.


“C’mon, RUN!”

Nor arrived right after the coral haired gunner began trying to cover for their fallen-down team healer. But, what was the point of running. What had to happen right now, was for them to get out of this death-trap of a canyon and topside to where their escape out of here was.

"Amagus, more than anything else we need to get out of here and topside!" Nor said, gunning down a couple of approaching Carriers. "Problem is, at this point we need to get up there faster than you two can probably climb up!"

Nor reached for the 'disposable' spare Blade at her side. For what she was about to do, she wasn't going to need any extra weight. It was already loaded with a heavy artillery shell peice. Heavy enough. Luckily, there was a suitable target. A Wormbus. Setting the blade to an impact fuse, she gripped it's handle. Luckily, she didn't have to worry about trying to harvest anything. She just had to expend the ammunition!

She twisted her body and swung the blade to give it all the momentum she could give it. She aimed for the machination's engine block.
The blade flew through. It pierced into the approaching Wormbus' forward section, and detonating. For a split moment, a full array of cracks blistered the machine's frame before it detonated like a bomb.

"Mango, Tiphereth, prepare yourselves, I'm hauling you two up the side of this cliff the old fashioned way! Let down any weight that you can replace!"

The three shells that Chomp had given her earlier. Using it while up the cliffs was ultimately dangerous. Down here was the best bet provided that she was careful not to cause any blast to the wall they were about to scale.

"You two got 15 seconds!"


In that time, Nor would expend the three explosive shells that Chomp had given her. It sort of felt like a waste to use them right away, but in any case, 'fire for effect', trying to catch as many of the Carriers going after them up this wall before they climbed was the best outcome. If she could blast apart most of the front wave, she could buy herself just a couple more seconds to scale the wall with these two. Just a couple more second of breathing room.

One grenade loaded. Nor aimed it at dead center of the mass approaching.
The second against the group on the left. Parts flew violently into the air.
The third, aimed to hit against another approaching Wormbus. Nor visually saw it keel to the side. Not destroyed, but seemingly immobilized with a set of it's legs severely damaged.

That was it! In the wake of the fiery fireworks show Chomp had provided the time had passed. 15 seconds! Seeing the raw destruction did actually make her feel a little better.

"Kay', we're out of here you two!" Nor said, turning to Amiela and the albino.


Without much consent, Nor took possession of her two teammates. Amiela hauled under her free arm, Tiphareth's bodily frame hauled over her shoulder not much unlike Chomp had been carrying her.

Perhaps Nor had done something like this a few times.
Perhaps it was because she was just very proficient with her body.

But before the two girls had much time to process what Nor was doing to them, the found themselves haphazardly tied to Nor Clyde's body. Not only that, but they were going up... or rather, LEAPING up the side of the cliff face as Nor jumped from ledge to ledge to get higher. The force at which the Clone was scaling the side of the cliff with each leap was making the two experienced forces not quite to what they felt being launched out of the Polaris, just a while earlier. Far from it, actually. But the fact that it felt like the next most comparable thing aside from falling was telling.

The machinations on their tail grew smaller and smaller, as Nor was simply scaling the cliff faster than they could keep up.






At the top of the cliff, the Nor Homonculous regrouped with the rest of the party. The clone kneeled down lower before she bit through the haphazard tie that she made of herself to allow the two to more gently plop or slide off of her frame. She was panting at how much she had just exerted herself. This was almost like some of the worst training Sinnora had put her through back in the day.

She was slipping up a bit. This should've been way easier than it was.

"I'll... be fine after a few seconds. *Huff* ...I Just need to catch my breath."

Nor said waving her hand dismissively. Her heart was beating, seemingly suprised that Nor had actually bothered to get a proper sweat producing workout for once.

"Let's just get out of here already, Yeah?"

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with: Nor ( Ehb ), Amiela ( Lekiel ), Tiphereth ( BnemonicDevice )​

---

Chomp could do little but watch as the others struggle to climb up the cliff wall. His ropes it seemed were useless, so Chomp pulled them back up for use later. Instead he made sure the area was clear for the trio, drawing his axes back to his hand and clearing out the machines nearby. Fortunately most didn't seem too interested in actually attacking the GPO's, so Chomp's clean up duty was quick and easy. By the time Nor and brought back Tiph and Amiela, Chomp went over to attend to them.

First, he handed Nor a small pouch of water. It was a standard water ration meant to be used and disposed of on the go, so that operators can get a quick drink without fussing with lids. Basically bite and drink. This ought to refresh and resupply some fluids, or at least aid her natural regeneration to do so. Second, he looked at Amiela and tried to gauge the extent of her injuries visually. Again, Chomp was no doctor and his first aid left much to be desired, but he could tell that she had damaged her legs, likely during her attempt to save Tiph. Nothing major, nor anything that couldn't be healed by her apotheosis fluid, so Chomp took out some cloth medical braces and gave them to Amiela. It would be quick, and she simply needs to strap them to the injured areas so that she can properly move while healing. She can take them off once her injuries are gone. The last one was Tiphereth. Chomp didn't bother to try and diagnose her. Instead he clipped some carabiners to her belt, front and back. This way if she decides to climb up him again, now she has a quick and easy means to stay on, unless she forgets or disengages herself.

Chomp didn't have anything to say that wasn't obvious. Everyone needed to get out of here. He lowered his body so that anyone who wants to can just ride on him. So long as he doesn't need to be climbing anymore walls he can carry everyone, though it's certainly not going to be a comfortable ride. He was going to run full tilt, which means a lot of jostling and bumping, especially if the path ahead isn't perfectly flat and stable. But comfort wasn't important right now, speed was, and once Chomp builds momentum he would move like a freight train back towards the Nightcrawler. Or where it should be, at least. He noted that the signal from the Nightcrawler was cutting in and out, so this seismic activity may have forced it to move further away. Or worse, it could've destroyed the vehicle entirely. Then they would really be in a bad position. But all the more reason they needed to hurry and move quickly.

 

[Cresion Breezes]

POLARIS
CH.3.4 OUR REQUIEM (5)

The twilight’ed horizon still glimmered as peacefully as ever, even with the hoards of machines scurrying around the surface. The dark silhouette of the Nightcrawler cast its dark shadow that stretched on the pale surface of the planet, a few small machines tapped on it and climbed onto its rooftop then jumped down, running towards the direction of the dim sunlight. There was a small carrier that tapped around on the shuttered air vents, but a strong gust of ventilation blew the machine back, it fell on its back and balanced for a few moments before turning around and hobbling away.

[You’re back! Machines signals have calmed down a bit up here, but I really thought some of you guys would die down there, these detectors almost blew trying to process everything in that chasm, I was worried it would jam the entire system and kill our comm.]

Mavi chimed in, her voice much clearer now; both in terms of her mood and the quality of the audio. The signal seems to have cleared up for now.

[Did you guys actually find a person down there? From Solaris 115? I checked the map database about that outpost and, uh, it’s really far away, even beyond the Great Excavation Site. It would take more than two months to travel on foot at best, how in the world does someone survive for that long?]

The caravan driver added, though her questions and tone seem a bit half-hearted as in the background the revving up of the caravan engines as well as the clicks and clacks of the caravan’s control board can be heard.

The person the question was directed at, however, was silent. Nexian quietly stood up and unstrapped the box from Chomp and held onto it himself again, he seems a bit better compared to their initial meeting at the bottom of the chasm as both a GPO’s innate regeneration and Tiphereth’s ability had helped out. His silence wasn’t because he overheard any questions though, he looked around at the group before walking up to and kneeling down beside Tiphereth, who seems to be slumped over unconscious.

“...Hey…your teammate. Is this…their natural fluid colour?”

The young man’s voice was soaked in uncertainty with a deep sense of dread. He stood up and on the corner of his sleeve and clothing were tinges of Tiphereth’s blood, her apotheosis fluid, that was now a light pink-ish hue. Some of it seeped out of the albino psychologist’s body onto the pale grey ground of the Shell. The light pink hue is slowly turning pinker, its colour became redder as time ticked on. As the hue changed so did Nexian’s expression, as any experienced GPO would recognize this phenomenon.

Fluid Decolouration. The loss of colour in a GPO’s apotheosis fluid, with their blood reverting back into the dark red of regular humans.

It was the universal sign of clinical death in GPOs.

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions: Everyone​

---

"Orpha-?! That little-!" As the masked operator plucked her out of the sky, preventing her from becoming a yellow smudge on the monochromatic ground below, she took great offense to the name the albino series called her over comms. She cleared her throat as Shaw let her down on the top of the cliff. "Thanks..." As soon as she was let down, she rushed over to the edge of the cliff, aiming down her rifle at the machines below in an attempt to help the team get their psycho out of there. However, that turned out to be entirely unnecessary, as the coral haired girl and the clone girl carved a path out of the machines and extracted the albino, the former of the two needing to take a breather after she made it to the top. Even as everyone was up the top of the cliff, one can't be too sure, so Solline kept her attention on the cliffedge, pointing her gun in that direction as she slowly backed her way to the rest of the team.

As Solline was still watching the cliffedge to make sure no machines followed them up there, she heard Nexian ask about Tiphereth's Apotheosis blood color. She took a quick glance, from her position only making out a vague glimpse of the white fluid coming out of Tiph's body, before turning her attention back to the cliffedge one more time. "Yea, should be snow white." She exhaled. "Looks like the machines won't be following us up here..." She turned to walk towards the group of operators, seeing Tiph on still on the ground. Still not getting a clear view of her Apotheosis fluid, she tried calling out to her. "Oi, wake up, you can sleep on the Nightcrawler." No response. "Oi, albino, talking to you!" Still no response. Her eyes widened as she got close enough to get a closer look at the Apotheosis fluid color coming out of her body, being able to see the shifting of the fluids color from white to a more pink and reddish hue. She'd seen this more times than she would have ever liked to on her missions outside the Polaris. Rushing over to the albino now, quickly kneeling down and took her shoulders. "H-hey! C-come on now, th-this isn't funny! Hey! Tiphereth!" The blonde tried in vain to wake the albino up. One of her now shaking hands made her way from her right shoulder to her neck to check for a pulse and... nothing...

Solline slowly removed her still shaking hands from the albino's corpse, her mouth agape and her breathing starting to speed up. Sure, the two were as far as one could possibly be from getting along, but... even then, despite what they may have said to each other before, Solline would have never wished for this... Several questions swirled in her mind, mainly "how did this happen?" She recalled the operator's last transmission over comms. Piecing thing together, her eyes widened more, coming to a horrid realization. She looked down at her hands, which started to shake a bit more, as she began to hyperventilate. I... killed her...?

The blonde grasped her head with both of her hands, squeezing her eyes tight, every voice in her head telling her she did indeed do it. She shook her head in an effort to make them stop, but to no avail. Then, a distorted voice cut through from that awful chorus. "And why should you feel bad about it?" Her eyes snapped open and looking all around to find the source of the voice, the monochromatic landscape of the shell replaced with a never ending dark void spanning all directions. "It's what you were made for after all. Why feel bad about it?" "N-no, it isn't!" "Then why are you alive?" "I..." "Simple. The government needed someone to do their killing for them. That's why you live, to kill." "N-No! I-I... B-but... t-that's different! I-I kill machines, I-I don't kill other series!" Solline shut her eyes again and grasped her head harder, hoping to block out whatever it is that was taunting her.

"Oh? But... this wouldn't be the first time... a series had gotten killed because of you..."

Her heart sank as the voice morphed into two feminine voices as it said that last statement. Two voices she hadn't heard in a long, long time. She opened her eyes, slowly turning her head to look up, where stood two figures, their hair blonde, exactly like her own, their faces obscured. Tears began to flow fourth from Solline's eyes as she began as her hyperventilation got worse, shutting her eyes hard before letting out a scream of anguish. She fell over on the ground where she was kneeling, clutching and shaking her head and writhing around while screaming incoherent sentences and random apologies, seemingly not being directed at the now deceased Tiphereth but something else entirely, in between bouts of sobbing.

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with: Solline ( Clockwork_Magic )​

---

With everyone assembled, Chomp head back to the Night Crawler. Most everyone was okay, sans Tiph, who needed to be carried back. Chomp clamped her onto his body and proceeded as quickly as possible. It fortunately seemed that the machines weren't pursuing and there wasn't any aftershocks from the previous earthquake. Chomp would need to investigate this exact cause, likely something that Nexian would know something about. Once they got close Mavi started talking to them. Seems like the sudden appearance of the machines nearly knocked out communications, which Chomp was only slightly surprised at. Either the communicator systems are more sensitive than he thought, or there was much more machine activity than Chomp had observed. It was certainly something to be concerned about.

Everyone boarded the Nightcrawler as Chomp unloaded Nexian, his cargo, and everyone else who hitched a ride on him. As Chomp was putting away his excess equipment Nexian asked a very curious question. Tiph was bleeding. But not her Apothesis fluid. Her fluids should've been white. This was pink. Chomp quickly realized what had happened. Shortly after, Solline began to have a panic attack. Chomp was not suited to deal with her right now. But he knew what he needed to do for Tiphereth. Taking a body bag from his pack, Chomp carefully loaded Tiphereth into the body bag and moved her to the Nightcrawler's emergency room. There was a stasis pod that Chomp would put Tiphereth's body inside of. It wouldn't bring her back to live, but it would at least preserve her body. Then Chomp returned to the main area of the Nightcrawler where Solline was still having her moment. Chomp thought about how to handle something like this. He has no formal experience on how to handle a mental breakdown from a GPO. He himself had never gone through anything like this. Death was such a normal thing to him that he often forgets that people don't just write it off as a statistic like he does.

Even so, Chomp needed to do something. Not knowing what to do was no excuse for doing nothing. Looking at Solline, Chomp surmised she may be going through some form of survivor's guilt. While most of what she was saying right now was incoherent, she mentioned something about how she only kills machines and not other series. Tiph and Solline are both Series, so Chomp figured that Solline must've had a previous incident involving the death of a Series she was involved in and may be applying that memory here. In a very calm and methodical manner, Chomp sat his body down out of the way, and ejected his Black Box from within. He needed to use his soft voice and his armored form was not suited for that. The small, blocky auxiliary approached Solline.

"Solline. You are not at fault. You did not kill Tiphereth. You did your job and you did your best. You have saved lives and helped us all."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Hiberus Shaw, Phobos Itself
Interactions: Lucius Cypher Clockwork_Magic Cresion Breezes Ehb Lekiel Mentions: Everyone is interacted in some way;


Shaw, along with the rest of the deployment team, marched onward after their assembly from the cliff's edge. This time he walked behind everyone else. The injuries sustained were being reknitted or were already healed, everyone appeared animate. Save for Tiph, which irked the engineer in an uncomfortable way. An itch under your brain. His eyes, in this twilight, never shook from their position on her form clamped by Chomp for transport. Nearing the Nightcrawler, their pilot and pseudo-mission coordinator contacted them from the safety of the caravan. ["The rebounding radio waves should not have overpowered the Nightcrawler's sensors. Something else is afoot."] The engineer paused before answering Mavi's second question. ["Or gravitated by an unknown force."]

It is now that Shaw noticed Tiphereth's form become increasingly... limp. He does not say anything. Or thinks anything in a way that matters. But he does in his soul, or whatever has replaced it since his apotheosis, hold a faint spark of hope an atom wide. The gloves on his fists grow taut on his chalk white skin, the fabrics nearly unfurled at the seams. They couldn't tell, but his gait shifted from readied marching into worried stomping with fluid motion and imperceptibly.

When the Nightcrawler came into view, Shaw picked up his pace. In fact, he pushed aside others to enter first. Once he arrived at his seat, he unbuckled his holsters and laid the two pistols with frantic hands. Like a surgeon who just realised that he snipped a little too far into the patient's body than needed. He moved to pull off the tatters of his jacket that clung to him through the sleeves, but as he pulled it apart, a jagged yanking pain stung him from the side. Ah, his liver still had a shard. How did he miss that in all the excitement? He callously jerked the detritus out, before Noxian's words reached his ears. He froze with the shard in his palm. Uttering only one word. "Damn,"

He spun around like the blades of a mixer to rush over to Tiph's form -- corpse. In the background which seemed like noise at first were Solline's traumatic ramblings, lacking the collected yet acidic composure of the sniper's personality. Triage calls for him to at least inspect Tiph first.

He kneels down, examining the wounds stained by pinkish fluids. His hand reaches over to touch her neck, but it hesitates. Betraying his original designs, the helmet on his head appears... Shocked. The fearsome brow that peaks downward into a scowl is arched in surprise, the midnight coals large. The gloved fingers touch the albino's pristine neck, searching for the heart beat. Nothing. Apotheosis discoloration meant that she is already dead, but he had to try to see at least. To feel. A groan of defeat escaped him, as Chomp in mechanical fashion retrieved the body into a black, bag.

The psychologist is gone now, yet the cold void in Shaw's chest twists and spirals like an expressionist pastiche. It buries him again, as he rises up to help the raving, writhing Solline. Chomp had been the first to respond, aiming to alleviate her troubles through sympathetic means, but time could be of the essence.

Shaw knelt down to hold Solline firmly, not enough to restrain her though he could easily do that. He looks to Nor and Amiela, wordlessly gesturing to find anything to calm her down. Experience tells him that men, ordinary, have died from his presence alone. Fear takes their hearts, either they self-destroy themselves or their hearts do it for them. Is it true for an operator as well?

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions: Lucius Cypher | Worthlessplebian
Mentions: Everyone else​

---

“Stop!” The blonde sniper continued writing on the floor of the Nightwrawler, clutching her ears in a vain attempt to block out the voices, unaware of the scene that she was causing. “If only you had gone first, Aurora and I would still be alive.” “SHUT UP!” “Luna’s right. You should have gone first. You could have saved us. All 11 of us even. But you didn't. You killed us.” “I-! I-I’m sorry…” "And now you've gone and done it again. How cruel can you be..." Solline let out another bout of sobs, shaking her head, but the taunting voices didn't stop. She wanted to make them stop. She had to make them stop but nothing she could try would work... except...

Thankfully, before she could do anything rash, she heard a voice, familiar yet very different, telling her it wasn't her fault. The apparitions of her dead sisters faded a bit as she heard this, their voices along with them. Shortly after, she felt someone grab hold of her. She turned her head up to look at the individual responsible, squinting her eyes. Her eyes perceived a feminine looking figure, with a distinct strand of hair dyed red, her facial features similarly obscured like the two apparitions before. "Ves...ta...?" Eyes widening, she blinked a few times before trying to rub her eyes, but was prevented from doing so on account of her still wearing her goggles. She undid her goggles and removed them from her eyes, clattering against the floor as they fell from her face. She squinted her glossy, tearstained and puffy eyes as the cabin lights of the Nightcrawler flooded her vision, returning her to reality, the voices replaced by the familiar humming silence of the Shell.

The true identity of the figure that grabbed hold of her turned out to be the masked operator, Shaw. The blonde turned her head to look around the cabin, still breathing heavily, not as bad as before and very slowly, but steadily, starting to improve. Tiphereth's body wasn't anywhere obvious in sight, presumably moved by one of the other operators. An unfamiliar Black Box was also near Solline, staring at it for a while before eventually piecing things together to deduce that it was probably Chomp. She turned her attention back to Shaw, who was still holding her. "U-uh..." Solline stuttered as she tried to find the proper words to respond to the current situation with, thoroughly flustered with the scene she had caused. "E-er... y-you can let go of me now..." She awkwardly cleared her throat, her voice shaky while turning her head in an attempt to avoid any kind of eye contact with anyone else in the cabin. "I-I sh-should be f-fine now, r-really... I-I am..."