Who: Cayde-6 (exorion) and his FIRETEAM || Cayde-6 (exorion) and team Rescue This Dumb Robot When: Backdated for Day 8 Where: IT'S IN THE FRAKKING SHIP What: Exploration & also Cayde has an accident
[ Finally, something in common! Sort of. The word "Atlas" is something the both understand at least, and there's an even longer pause this time around as the blue light focuses in on the back of Cayde's hand where the Atlas mark lies.
It takes almost a full minute for the voice to come back, cautious. ]
You...speak, Atlas?
[ It's an almost wheezy tone, gravelly and slow as the words are spoken. In a language Cayde will actually understand too, despite the distortion. ]
[ The line goes quiet for several long, tense moments. But the end result? Is a few beeps sounding from the machinery before the hissing of the gas stops as the valve shuts off. The turrets and their tracking lasers remain trained on Cayde, but there's a distinct clicking sound as the safety engages.
[ There's no doubt about it now that it has Cayde talking; his voice is loud and clear over the room's sound system and the owner of that voice knows the language Cayde unwittingly speaks. There's no way to fake that and the mark.
Without warning all fire turrets suddenly deactivate and disappear back up into the ceiling. The warning siren ceases, and the flashing lights turn off, leaving the room a dark. Not pitch-black like before thankfully; whoever the owner of the voice is, they had the foresight to at least switch on the emergency lighting that runs in tiny strips along the edge of the room. It's not enough to make out everything, but it's better than the initial veil of thick darkness.
There's footsteps ahead, lumbering ad slow -- and heavy. Something bulky is coming his way from the far end of the room, to the left of where that first terminal was. ]
[Cayde's instinct when he hears the footsteps is to reach for his gun and stay back, behind something that'd make decent cover from whatever's approaching. Gun's still got no charge, but they don't need to know that. Could be a friend, could be they're trying to lure him into a false sense of security. Could be totally unrelated, but probably not.]
[Either way, he stands ready and waiting, aiming down the sight.]
[ It's not a surprising reaction. Heck, the owner of the voice did the same thing when it was first altered to Cayde's intrusion into the decontamination chamber. And it hadn't pointed just a rifle at him, it'd been five plasma turrets (even if technically speaking, Cayde summoned 3 of those on his own).
He doesn't have to stand in wait for very long though: it only takes a few ceaseless moments before those heavy footsteps get nearer...and nearer...
And then this hulk of a guy lumbers into the room.
Easily eight feet tall he towers over the Exo, shoulders slightly hunched. Its head sits lower on its body, almost on the collarbone, and whether or not it had a neck is anyone's guess. It's hard to look past the utterly skull-looking face it's got going on, an odd series of dreadlocks-like strips of something hanging down from it. Its almost as long as its entire body, and each hand sports four eerily long, carapace-like fingers. Although that could just be the massive suit it's wearing.
In a strange contrast the massive being has unproportionally small feet, toed, but seeming to give it no issues with balance.
It lumbers its way over to Cayde without hesitation or care for the gun levelled at it, coming to a stop only a few feet from Cayde with arms hanging down at its sides. ]
You... Atlas?
[ It's voice is less distorted now that it isn't being blared over a speaker, almost hollow and raspy. Less gravelly, but heavy and slow. ]
[Wow it just does not give a shit about the gun, huh. Cayde doesn't drop it just yet, though his posture does relax some, instead adjusting his aim for his new friend's face. They don't seem to be offended.]
Maybe? [Cayde shakes his head.] Got no idea what Atlas is, but apparently I'm supposed to be looking for it.
[ It doesn't look offended? But then it doesn't look like it has...any facial features so to speak, so there's that too. Thing doesn't even have eyelids or a mouth from the looks of it and yet it still speaks, leaning down over Cayde slowly. ]
You are Traveller.
[ It's half a question, and half a statement. A quatement? Something like that. It lifts one elongated finger slowly and points to Cayde's hand bearing the mark. ]
[Well he's not a giant white orb, but Cayde gets the gist. Hesitantly, he lowers the gun and looks at the back of his hand. Squinting at the mark, which has explained approximately nothing. But at least now he knows they're definitely linked to the Atlas somehow. Whatever that is.]
[He looks back up after a moment, head tilted thoughtfully.]
This is... [ The behemoth of a thing pauses in a moment of thought, trying to decide on an answer that seems fitting. ]
...The Last. [ Its hand doesn't move from where it's poised above Cayde hand, but then this guy doesn't seem big on the whole "moving" thing in general. So. ]
[ The last Unicorn, oh my god. Cayde we love you? ]
...The Last of Atlas Travellers.
[ When the strange creature lifts its hand this time it's to show the back of it to Cayde and put it on display. It's black and bare of any sort of marking like the rest of its...suit? Body? But keep your eyes (optics?) fixed Cayde; after a moment's pause the very same Atlas symbol will flicker into holographgic existence, bright and glowing.
[ Waiting is what this dude does best Cayde, you're in luck. It lowers its hand back to its side and the Atlas Mark fades, unfazed stare boring into the Exo. ]
This woke in pod. Long, long ago. [ It takes a slow, drawn-out breath, and then turns abruptly (or as abruptly as a giant in no hurry anyway), and begins heading back the way it came. ]
[ That's all big, tall, dark and creepy has to say on the matter unfortunately, but hopefully the change of scenery will be enough to placate Cayde for the time being. The moment they pass through the doors they enter what looks like some sort of prisoner med bay (or at least, a med bay nowhere near as finely-kept and maintained as the one in the Cold Room), rusted metal chairs bolted to the flooring with an array of light and instruments hanging overhead.
The edges of the room contain guard stations and posts, but the far wall has another door which The Last lumbers towards, turning right down a hall that's less ship and more...overgrown. That glowing fungus is back, and more sand has seeped through the compromised hull here so that their footsteps turn to dull rustles. ]
Ship feeds on suit. Bad for Atlas.
[ Don't think it hasn't noticed that falling percentage on your wrist, Cayde. ]
[At least someone has, because Cayde’s all but forgotten about it. He looks at his wrist display with a frown — he should hopefully have one pearl left, if he didn't lose it in the fall, but that's only another hour once this runs low. Less than great.]
[He looks down as the ground turns to sand, looking up at the walls for some sign of a breeched hull down here, then back at... The Last. They're gonna have to think up a better name.]
How long have you been down here? How've you survived?
This does not wear Atlas. Must hide, [ it offers by way of explanation, moving forward with purposefulness only gained from deep familiarity with one's surroundings. The Last knows this portion of the ship, and well.
And it's only guiding Cayde further into it from the looks of things. More and more there's sand and dirt instead of metal flooring, the walls splotchy with moss and fungi. ]
This hides. Waiting. Searching. [ It pauses and comes to a stop, turning its body to look back at Cayde. ]
[ It doesn't offer anything else than that though; As far as The Last is concerned it's a perfectly acceptable answer as it lumbers on forward and turns down another hallway. This one though is almost entirely caved-in and filled, with no way to progress forward.
There is a sealed door though, and The Last lifts the hand which did not flash the Atlas Mark to it, the tip of one long finger sliding over the panel. It's dead and dulled, lacking power--but for some reason when The Last touches it, it springs to life and fills with power; there's a whoosh of air as the door slides open and leads to what is most definitely the most bare-bones room anyone's come across int he ship.
It's literally just a small, rectangular room with barely enough height for this guy to stand up in, but heck if it doesn't just wander its way inside anyway. ]
[Cayde sticks his head in first, squinting at the room as if it's gonna change or if he'll notice some traps laid out, but it just looks like a room. A really small, boring room. He follows The Last in after some hesitation, looking up at it as he does.]
So, what's this? Panic room? Secret exit? [He hushes his voice conspiratorially.] Armory?
Safe. [ Gosh Cayde it's like you don't trust the giant 8-foot table alien skeleton that almost blew you to bits or something. ]
Overseers do not watch here. Power stay.
[ And if Cayde's so inclined to look, oddly enough? Boney's words turn out to be true. His percentage isn't dropping anymore here and stays at a very even...whatever percentage he's at. Awesome! ]
Find Atlas, destroy. Long time ago, destroy planet. Kharas.
[ It moves back towards the front of the room, just past Cayde so that it has room to turn around and extend one arm out palm-side up. It's fingers curl, and with a brief twitch a holographic projection comes to life above it.
The image displayed is a sphere - a planet, Kharas. And from the two moons (one larger than the other, and so much closer to the planet than the other), it's obvious that Kharas is exactly where they are now. They have a name to put to it all. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
It takes almost a full minute for the voice to come back, cautious. ]
You...speak, Atlas?
[ It's an almost wheezy tone, gravelly and slow as the words are spoken. In a language Cayde will actually understand too, despite the distortion. ]
no subject
[He shrugs again and gestures toward tge decontamination room, because that feels more pressing.]
Listen-- I'd love to chat, but, uh... Can you do something about this from wherever you are?
no subject
[ The line goes quiet for several long, tense moments. But the end result? Is a few beeps sounding from the machinery before the hissing of the gas stops as the valve shuts off. The turrets and their tracking lasers remain trained on Cayde, but there's a distinct clicking sound as the safety engages.
Safe, for now. ]
Gas is...no more. Who? [ ...are you, Cayde? ]
no subject
[And he puts a hand to his chest when he says his name, indicating which part of the statement is his name (he hopes) just in case.]
Who've I got the pleasure of talking to?
no subject
Without warning all fire turrets suddenly deactivate and disappear back up into the ceiling. The warning siren ceases, and the flashing lights turn off, leaving the room a dark. Not pitch-black like before thankfully; whoever the owner of the voice is, they had the foresight to at least switch on the emergency lighting that runs in tiny strips along the edge of the room. It's not enough to make out everything, but it's better than the initial veil of thick darkness.
There's footsteps ahead, lumbering ad slow -- and heavy. Something bulky is coming his way from the far end of the room, to the left of where that first terminal was. ]
no subject
[Either way, he stands ready and waiting, aiming down the sight.]
no subject
He doesn't have to stand in wait for very long though: it only takes a few ceaseless moments before those heavy footsteps get nearer...and nearer...
And then this hulk of a guy lumbers into the room.
Easily eight feet tall he towers over the Exo, shoulders slightly hunched. Its head sits lower on its body, almost on the collarbone, and whether or not it had a neck is anyone's guess. It's hard to look past the utterly skull-looking face it's got going on, an odd series of dreadlocks-like strips of something hanging down from it. Its almost as long as its entire body, and each hand sports four eerily long, carapace-like fingers. Although that could just be the massive suit it's wearing.
In a strange contrast the massive being has unproportionally small feet, toed, but seeming to give it no issues with balance.
It lumbers its way over to Cayde without hesitation or care for the gun levelled at it, coming to a stop only a few feet from Cayde with arms hanging down at its sides. ]
You... Atlas?
[ It's voice is less distorted now that it isn't being blared over a speaker, almost hollow and raspy. Less gravelly, but heavy and slow. ]
no subject
Maybe? [Cayde shakes his head.] Got no idea what Atlas is, but apparently I'm supposed to be looking for it.
no subject
You are Traveller.
[ It's half a question, and half a statement. A quatement? Something like that. It lifts one elongated finger slowly and points to Cayde's hand bearing the mark. ]
You have Mark. Of Atlas.
no subject
[He looks back up after a moment, head tilted thoughtfully.]
And you-- what are you?
no subject
...The Last. [ Its hand doesn't move from where it's poised above Cayde hand, but then this guy doesn't seem big on the whole "moving" thing in general. So. ]
no subject
[Cayde nods slowly, apparently just taking that in, and gestures with his hand as if he's expecting more.]
Of...?
[The Last Unicorn? Samurai? Buddy what are you?]
no subject
...The Last of Atlas Travellers.
[ When the strange creature lifts its hand this time it's to show the back of it to Cayde and put it on display. It's black and bare of any sort of marking like the rest of its...suit? Body? But keep your eyes (optics?) fixed Cayde; after a moment's pause the very same Atlas symbol will flicker into holographgic existence, bright and glowing.
Dun dun dunnn. ]
no subject
[No hang on he has so many questions.]
You wake up in a weird pod too? Definitely not the last place you were, probably kidnapped?
no subject
This woke in pod. Long, long ago. [ It takes a slow, drawn-out breath, and then turns abruptly (or as abruptly as a giant in no hurry anyway), and begins heading back the way it came. ]
Come. Cannot stay. Watching.
no subject
Who's watching?
no subject
[ That's all big, tall, dark and creepy has to say on the matter unfortunately, but hopefully the change of scenery will be enough to placate Cayde for the time being. The moment they pass through the doors they enter what looks like some sort of prisoner med bay (or at least, a med bay nowhere near as finely-kept and maintained as the one in the Cold Room), rusted metal chairs bolted to the flooring with an array of light and instruments hanging overhead.
The edges of the room contain guard stations and posts, but the far wall has another door which The Last lumbers towards, turning right down a hall that's less ship and more...overgrown. That glowing fungus is back, and more sand has seeped through the compromised hull here so that their footsteps turn to dull rustles. ]
Ship feeds on suit. Bad for Atlas.
[ Don't think it hasn't noticed that falling percentage on your wrist, Cayde. ]
no subject
[He looks down as the ground turns to sand, looking up at the walls for some sign of a breeched hull down here, then back at... The Last. They're gonna have to think up a better name.]
How long have you been down here? How've you survived?
no subject
And it's only guiding Cayde further into it from the looks of things. More and more there's sand and dirt instead of metal flooring, the walls splotchy with moss and fungi. ]
This hides. Waiting. Searching. [ It pauses and comes to a stop, turning its body to look back at Cayde. ]
For you.
no subject
[Because he would be Concerned if it was waiting for him specifically, to say the least.]
Why?
no subject
[ It doesn't offer anything else than that though; As far as The Last is concerned it's a perfectly acceptable answer as it lumbers on forward and turns down another hallway. This one though is almost entirely caved-in and filled, with no way to progress forward.
There is a sealed door though, and The Last lifts the hand which did not flash the Atlas Mark to it, the tip of one long finger sliding over the panel. It's dead and dulled, lacking power--but for some reason when The Last touches it, it springs to life and fills with power; there's a whoosh of air as the door slides open and leads to what is most definitely the most bare-bones room anyone's come across int he ship.
It's literally just a small, rectangular room with barely enough height for this guy to stand up in, but heck if it doesn't just wander its way inside anyway. ]
Come.
no subject
[Cayde sticks his head in first, squinting at the room as if it's gonna change or if he'll notice some traps laid out, but it just looks like a room. A really small, boring room. He follows The Last in after some hesitation, looking up at it as he does.]
So, what's this? Panic room? Secret exit? [He hushes his voice conspiratorially.] Armory?
no subject
Overseers do not watch here. Power stay.
[ And if Cayde's so inclined to look, oddly enough? Boney's words turn out to be true. His percentage isn't dropping anymore here and stays at a very even...whatever percentage he's at. Awesome! ]
no subject
[So it doesn't. That's good at least, but he can't just stay here at... 15% forever.]
What are the overseers?
no subject
[ It moves back towards the front of the room, just past Cayde so that it has room to turn around and extend one arm out palm-side up. It's fingers curl, and with a brief twitch a holographic projection comes to life above it.
The image displayed is a sphere - a planet, Kharas. And from the two moons (one larger than the other, and so much closer to the planet than the other), it's obvious that Kharas is exactly where they are now. They have a name to put to it all. ]
Always hunt. Never stop for Atlas. Want destroy.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
here comes the cavalry, 15 minutes late with starbucks
did you bring enough for cayde to have some tho
no he has to get his own
wow rude jess
look starbucks is expensive and she's not made of money
this poor robot suffers so much
and who's fault is that
i'm gonna blame inui
i mean. fair.
(no subject)