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originally posted in:The Roleplay League
11/3/2015 6:10:04 AM
64
Rain falls gently from the Venusian skies above, creating a fine mist that washes over a lone, silhouetted figure. It stalks the moss-covered ruins. Great columns and tunnels, created from a bizarre fusion of rock and lifeless gray metal, rise into the yellow sky, now filled with clouds. The mist sticks to everything, causing the ruins to gleam dully, and the vegetation stubbornly clinging to it to look slick. The plant life looks strange and out of place next to the structures. One is a sign of prosperity and growth, a true sign of the power of the Traveller and the Golden Age. The other, a sign of not only death, but anti-life - a driven, hateful force bent on purging every beating heart to a degree so extreme that it inflicted upon itself the very doom it would grant all other races.
The Vex.
They gleam under the rain water, their ancient copper-colored limbs moving as they patrol their own monuments. Sullen orange optics greet the darkening light as day shifts slowly to night. The lone figure ducks behind a pillar as several strut past, their movements ungainly and as natural as their bodies. Despite all of their advancements and control over time, these Vex seem crude. Especially beside the figure.
Slowly stepping out from it's hiding place and into the dim, harsh red lights of the ruins, the rain-washed form of the lone figure reveals itself to be an Exo, dressed in tattered and dirty robes. They're singed from wire rifles, torn from bullet holes, and have had one too many run-ins with the powered sabres of the Fallen. Dirt from half a dozen worlds fights against the rain, refusing to wash out from the stains they created with such determination.
The Exo is neither tall not short, though perhaps on the slim side. Beneath the flickering lights of the Maw helm is a doll's face. A Cacytus is held loosely in it's hands, and it looks just as battered as the female form of the Exo. A Vortex, once belonging to the Future War Cult, rests on a single-point sling on it's right, the brilliant colors of the Cult scrubbed away. Over its shoulder, secured by a heavy chain, is a machine gun.
The warlock, its robes clinging wetly against its frame, moves further into the citadel. The chains hanging beneath the Exo's robes barely make a noise. Somewhere within this massive relic-fortress is a distress signal, human made. It's only been going for a few hours, but the garbled, stock transmission is already fading. Time is running out, and she picks up the pace as the dark ruins swallow her up again.
(( Open ))
English
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The ruins tend to hold many curiosities, and many people tend to take an interest in them. It's only natural that a Guardian patrolling these constructs would occasionally find another Guardian simply scavenging or examining the Vex architecture and technology. It just so happens that Sigma-3 was filling the role of the latter when he noticed an old acquaintance go by. "Well," he said, pleasantly surprised, "I never thought I'd see you again!" Even as he said this, he never took his eyes off of the pattern in the wall, while its glow illuminated him in a dull white light.
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Edited by daveyboy_d: 11/3/2015 11:17:31 PM(( Sorry for the long response time. I'm combining Vaaxius' post with this one. )) Seraphim-6 pauses as a recognizable voice pattern calls out. She stops and turns her helmeted head toward the Exo. It's an old ally of her's, though she would never consider him a friend - mostly because such a concept is alien to her nature. How Sigma-3 can lack such vigilance in the face of enemy patrols is another concept that's beyond her. [quote][b]as she walks, she notices a few vex approaching her. They seem different than the others. They seem to be joking around and talking among themselves[/b][/quote] As the female Exo is about to speak, she spots several Vex. "Take cover," she instructs Sigma, slipping around a pillar out of sight, her rifle at the ready.
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[b]one of their voices stands out, it came from a hobgoblin who looks like a precursor[/b] "I don't think we're going to see any hive mind vex, calm your collective robotic nipples."
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The Exo waits calmly, her finger reaching down to flick off the safety on her scout rifle. It halts ever so slightly before continuing on when she hears the language of the City. Circuits in her cybernetic brain flare as her mind processes the possibilities. Finally, she drops to a knee and swings around the pillar, barely any of her robed body showing. Only the muzzle of her rifle is displayed prominently. Aiming at the milky white substance encased in the abdomen of the Vex, Seraphim's AI comes to a decision based on a lack of information, followed by a back up plan. Question, then shoot. "Hold, Precursor," she demands. The vocal synthesizer in her mouth carefully programs her tone to sound commanding and dangerous. "This frame has questions for you. You will submit or be destroyed." As far as first impressions go, it's a poor attempt. Then again, she has a distinct lack of tactful protocol.
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[b]he puts his hands up in a non threatening gesture[/b] "Woah! I'm friendly! Please don't shoot."
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"Identify and explain," Seraphim says, her blue optics flaring. "How and why do you speak the language of the Last City? Secondary requirement: provide proof of friendly status and the reason for such a claim." There's definitely no charm to this particular machine. It may be a bad sign that the nearby Vex has displayed a more genial personality than the Guardian in question.
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"We find English easier to speak, we aren't connected so verbal speech is easier. As for our friendliness, we are allied with the city, maybe you heard of us. The Sol heretics."
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"Searching. Information from the City is outdated. No information on Sol Heretics found. You will explain and provide proof," the Exo states. The barrel of her weapon never wavers. It's a tense moment, ready to explode into violence.
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"Ugh, alright." [b]he pulls out a tablet, it had a page open about a group of free willed vex trying to help the city fight oryx. The treaty promises military aid on both sides along with access into city records and resources for the vex[/b]
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The Exo releases her Ghost with a motion of her hand, the dangerous end of her gun still settled on the Precursor's weak point. Blue lights flicker and shine from the Ghost as it scans the document. "It's...legitimate," the little thing declares, sounding surprised. It turns to regard the Vex, it's chassis spinning and clicking expressively. "Allies capable of traveling through time and across the gulfs of space. The possibilities are impressive." It warbles slightly, almost as if giving a nod of respect, before dematerializing. The Exo lowers her battered weapon and steps out into the open. "How are you designated?" she questions. Her tone might not be any warmer, but at least the "I'm-going-to-kill-you" tone has fallen away.
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"What do you mean by designated? I don't think I understand the question."
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"Alternate term: name. What is your name?" Seraphim-6 inquires. The lights on her helmet flicker and spasm.
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"Me, I'm just a soldier. But I guess you can call me zekron."
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The Exo nods once. It's a very precise motion, designed to make her appear more human. The fact that it's mathematically driven to move at the same degree every time just proves how flawed that particular notion is. "Designation Zekron added to contacts, specified as potential ally. A human distress signal has begun emanating within these ruins. A hard fix is prevented by the structure itself. Do you have knowledge of this signal?"
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"No, if it's human, our leader will want to deal with it herself. I'll contact her." [b]the precursor disappears, probably to get the leader[/b]
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If Seraphim-6 had enough personality programmed into her, she'd swear. Vehemently. Instead, she watches the Precursor vanish, disappearing enigmatically to appear somewhere else. Or perhaps it's some[i]when[/i] else. Even the highly advanced computer driving her thoughts cannot comprehend the complex correspondence between time and space that the Vex continuously negotiate. Her head swivels toward Sigma-3. "Suggested course of action: track down human signal before the Sol Heretics do to prevent possible leak of classified and/or important information from falling into their hands. Potential survivors at risk from elements, standard Vex, Fallen, and dehydration. Conclusion: form fireteam and proceed into the ruins."
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[b]before she could do anything, a vex appeared in front of her, this vex was designed to look female and in the sense of the word, it was. She looks at her with interest[/b] "Hello there, one of my men said you needed help."
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Seraphim-6 begins to raise her rifle as the Vex appears in front of her. It's an old battle protocol. Her system updates and she lowers her weapon. "Identify," she instructs the new Vex.
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Edited by Inquisitor Vaax: 11/4/2015 3:24:26 AM"I am quasis, queen of the Sol heretics and first of the free willed vex."
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"Explain how a Vex can find free will." It's almost more of a suggestion than a demand. Still, that helmeted head regards the queen impassively. The Exo's body never moves, never shifts. It's almost eerie.
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"It's a hard process that can only be done by outside sources. Most of my men were freed by having the network they were apart of shut down, I would thank remove them from the network and reprogram them enough to function on their own."
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Seraphim's electronic mind digests that. She has no response to it, however. "Do you know where the human distress signal originates from, Sol Heretic?" the dirty Guardian asks.
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"No, it has only just come to my attention. I was busy making sure the outpost in the cosmodrome was ready for anything.*
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"Are you capable of providing accurate maps of these ruins, along with an estimate of enemy forces?" Seraphim inquires.
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"Yeah, let me just check my map." [b]quasis pulls out a holo map and checks the area[/b]
