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  • Old Guild Username: Ashgan
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    1. Ashgan 10 yrs ago

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Yeah let's post it like this. Someone other than me do the honors - I think that ending bit is a good point for me to pick up in my next one.
It's been a while since I peeped a signal but, I'm still here :*D I also see that the collab has grown quite a bit since I made it. I put something in for Adelicia. I had a bolder ending to that piece originally, but decided it was just too *early* in the story to make this happen just yet, so I've gone with a more conservative variant. You can still see the way her beliefs are growing and solidifying.
“Do you think she’s lost?” one man in a business suit whispered to another, both of them holding steaming cups of coffee. “I don’t care to find out. Maybe we should call security?”

They, as well as a handful of other employees of Origin and other mega-corps, exchanged curious glances as their gaze kept returning to the out-of-place looking, heavily tattooed woman sitting cross-legged on one of the myriad leather sofas looking over the great window that covered the entire outer wall of the public break room. Drawing deeply from her cigarette, she stared absentmindedly at Derelict’s carcass floating beyond the viewport, cast in a bloody red light by the native star. The place looked of death to her.

From here, Cass could see the many large-scale surface details of the machine world, with its many ridges and outcroppings, parallel lines to and from locations unknown. The gigantic crater they called Impact Alpha gaped like an ugly bruise on this side of Derelict, visible even from orbit. Scientists were still debating what caused it; nobody had found evidence to support the popular meteorite theory, nor were there obvious signs suggestive of weapon damage. The site was simply caved in, as if a god had tried to push their finger into planet’s hull. Evidently, without success; the crater did not go deeper than the impenetrable sphere. Shame about that – as far as Cass was concerned, this whole place could get blown to hell.

“I’m s-sorry, are you new here?” reticently asked a blonde in a well-ironed business blouse. She was looking curiously at Cass, standing close enough to take a seat two spots from her. “Oh boy,” someone sighed in the background and emptied their mug.

Cass blew a puff of tangerine smoke towards the young woman, who grimaced when it hit her face. “New to Origin, not to Derelict,” she replied, sounded bored and ever so slightly aggravated. “Been here longer than you for sure.”

The blonde awkwardly waited and weighted her words. “Ah, I’m sorry,” she smiled nervously. “I was wondering if you were looking for someone or something.”

Cass returned her gaze to the planetary carcass of Derelict. “Very sweet, but I’m good. Just another hour before I’m back down there,” she lamented wistfully, taking another heavy pull from her cig.

“Oh,” the other blurted out, unsure what to say. Eventually, she stammered: “You’re with a ground team?”

“What’s it to you?” Cass shot back at her, causing her to flinch. “Sorry if I’m being nosy,” the blonde apologized, “I’ve never spoken to anyone who’s actually been to the surface. I kind of wonder, you know, what it’s like?”

“Tsk,” Cass stifled a chuckle. “It sucks,” she finished dryly. Something about Derelict always reminded her of home. Most likely it was the constant fear. Here, as on Heracles, dread was a steady companion that followed wherever she went. Death was never far behind.

“I’ve heard,” the other chirped up again after a little while, “that most people that go down have to rotate out of doing so after a while.”

“So?” Cass adjusted her legs with a menacing clonk sound.

“Well, how much longer do you have to go down? It sounds like you’re not enjoying it.”

Cass impassively stared out of the window, pondering the question. What were her odds of survival until she could repay her debt to Mercury? Was there any hope at all? And did she even care to know, if someone could have told her? As seconds trickled by, the young woman shifted uncomfortably.

“’Till I get killed, I guess,” Cass shrugged her scarred shoulders. She did not believe her own words – or did not want to. The other woman remained quiet and, after a while her gaze, too, shifted from Cass towards Derelict’s harshly illuminated surface, where wounds old and new scarred its metal shell.



“That’ll be all, for now, lieutenant,” Sophia remarked as she double-checked the elapsed time on her watch. “I will see you again for a psych evaluation after you return from Derelict. I will want to record your first impressions of the world, as well as any possible symptoms. As for your scans and blood sample, I will evaluate them as I get the time for it; I’ll spare you the details and only bring them up again if I find something worrying. Assume that everything is well until I say otherwise.”

“Twenty minutes till the shuttle’s here,” Cass remarked from the rear of the room where she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “It would appear so,” Sophia commented, folding her fingers as she leaned back in her freshly assembled, leather chair, “You will get your turn after this sortie, Cass.”

“Can’t wait,” she droned with a dead pan expression. Neither can I, Sophia added in thought, wondering which of the two women was less thrilled by the prospect.

“Now, has anyone seen Mr. Marlowe,” Sophia asked into the room. “If someone can contact him, I’d like to call him in next.”
@Bartimaeus Yo I got round to making that collab I talked about a billion years ago. Feel free to pick up where I left off. If you want, @Dark Jack, you could also contribute and have a more organic back-and-forth with Bart. Either way, here it is:
Night of the Hunt - Encounter with the Demon of Hemwick
In situations like this or in dialogue-heavy scenes, I tend to be a fan of making collabs on Google Docs or so. After leaving it open for about a week, and letting people add smallish bits in turns (sentences or 1-2 paragraphs at most), it eventually results in a decently sized post that can be submitted as a chunk. That's how I'm doing it in my RP anyway; I believe I recall Jack saying he wasn't terribly fond of them? You can let me know what you think.
While it would be my turn if we were to follow a round-robin logic, I will say that my post would be relatively short if I were to make one now. Not being a participant in the fisticuffs about to ensue, Adelicia is probably just gonna sit in the elevator and try not to freak out. So in that sense, if Bart wants to post, he's clear for take off. If not, or if I just happen to find time first, I can knock out something slim.
Sophia listened carefully, feeling oddly reminded of her days in the New Constantinople university, whilst she busied herself directing her robots in the assembly of her laboratory. Setting up the lab’s layout on a holographic display cast from her wrist band, each of her finger motions translated into a precise reaction from the machines before her, who have since revealed a multitude of robotic arms with which they unloaded their crates, opened them, and lifted out a great number of technical components and equipment. Where there was empty space before, soon there were desks, shelves, a variety of freezers and chemical processors and, not least of all, an operating table with terrifying robotic arms built into it.

“What kind of signal? Where from?” Vin asked, returning to the group with a steaming mug in his organic hand. It took him a while to tear his gaze off the spectacle of Sophia’s automated laboratory deployment.

“And is it relevant to the mission?” Cass interjected, “We’re headed inside - and the signal is coming from outside.” Perhaps her tone could be misconstrued as eagerness, she figured, when nothing could have been further from the truth. She knew exactly where Mavriq wanted them to go: a sector of the shaft lovingly named the Dead Zone by other scavengers. It was common wisdom that less people returned from there than entered and not even the corporations were sending teams into that region anymore. Profit margins too low, so the reasoning went. In all of her expeditions, she had to admit that she hadn’t seen the Dead Zone in person either. If nothing else, the job was going to be interesting.

Sophia narrowed her eyes in contemplation, her deft finger motions slowing down. Maybe, she wondered, the signal came from a kind of New Derelict. Its creators abandoned Derelict after some kind of catastrophe and built a new home somewhere else. Curiosity - or worry - compelled them to continue probing this location for signs of activity.

A chill in her spine ended this train of thought, and she quickly rejected her theory as nothing more than a flight of fancy. Certainly she would never talk to anyone about it. She would get laughed out of the office for sure.

“Well,” Mavriq considered as he scrolled through his notes, “much of this is marked ‘your eyes only,’ several technical details that would likely bore you all, but the gist is that the signal does not correspond to any known natural astronomic phenomenon, appears to be noise rather than an actual signal, is on a wavelength outside our normal detection matrix, and evidently emerged according to our astrometrics from a region of space that as far as we can tell is totally empty.”

He paused for a moment to moisten his mouth on a bit of water, then carried on, “Whether there is any relevance will likely be a matter determined by Origin’s decoders and astronomers, but known unknowns are better than unknown unknowns; yes?”

“I’d love to see it, but I’m guessing I’ll have my hands full soon enough,” Vin responded, taking a quick sip of coffee before continuing: “Anyway, what about prep? I’m guessing the bots are down there setting things up, but what are we bringing? I’m thinking we should get as much data as we can down there.”

“And for how long?” Sophia interjected, her voice slightly higher pitched than normal, “Supplies should be budgeted according to the predicted length of our stay.” Well, their stay in any event; by the sound of it, she was scheduled to remain in orbit to finish up her report on the crew. She hated to admit that it was a relief.

Meanwhile, Cass’s eyes wandered over the interior of their head quarters, searching in vain for a label denoting the armory. “Regardless of the length of our stay, we should bring some security equipment to the surface if Mr. Feurtes hasn’t already,” Cass suggested with her usual deadpan voice. Grimly, she added: ”I don’t fancy chasing dead men without some heavy gunnery.”

“Well, Cass, our shuttle is Origin-issued, so it should have an armory. I am sure Feurtes has it fully stocked.” Although out of order, he turned his attention back to Sophia, and clarified, “As for our stay, Doctor, you mean on Derelict? Mission parameters dictate that an individual should not remain within the artifact longer than 24 hours. That seems to be the maximum duration before mental deterioration sets in. In fact, it is getting close to the time we need to relieve Feurtes. He must be getting antsy. How soon can you capture my biometrics, Doctor?”

Sophia’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly in response. “For a full physical and mental analysis I’d like to reserve at least three hours a person - in case we’re pressed for time, “ she added with a hint of ennui, “But if we must depart as soon as conceivably possible, I can limit myself to capturing your vital information; that is, your current health and physical condition, allergies, a record of previous injuries and illnesses, any possible augmentations and their specifications, you get the idea. At a minimum I need to know what I can and cannot do to your body in response to an emergency. In the long run, I need to formulate a detailed psycho-analysis of everybody so that I can properly monitor the effects of the artifact on your mental health. In short, we’ll be spending a considerable amount of time together in the near and distant future.”

The doctor, still detachedly tapping commands into her holo display, remained unperturbed by Cass’s dismissive rolling of the eyes halfway through her tirade. Her hopes that her final remark would be taken as a well-intended jest were sadly dashed when Cass rolled her head back towards her: “You didn’t say how much time you need.”

“No less than thirty minutes,” Sophia hissed like a cornered serpent. Unable to suppress an agitated twitch of her eyebrow, she turned to face her growing laboratory. Cass shrugged in reaction to a subtle shaking of the doctor’s head, clearly unaware - or feigning ignorance - of any misgivings.

“Then you shall begin establishing a baseline on me. Let’s see how much we can get done in two hours. Then Cass and I will head down to the artifact and relieve our Warrant Officer,” Mavriq decided.

“Very well,” Sophia replied begrudgingly, motioning for Mavriq to take a seat on the surgical table.

“Just a moment, boss,” Vin interrupted, raising a mechanical hand to get Mavriq’s attention. Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “Think you could get me a list of our inventory? I’d like to make plans for data collection, and I want to know what we’ve got to work with.”

Mav indicated to Sophia that he was ready for her to begin immediately as he approached her with his dataslate in one hand and awaited her instructions. Meanwhile, not to leave Vin hanging, he tapped a few markers on his slate, highlighted an area, and then pushed it toward Vin. Automatically, the list became available on Vin’s dataslate, a beep from his hip indicating its arrival.

“Electron scanning microscopes, air-gapped computers, magnetometers, 3D synthesizers, spectro-analyzers, holographic scanning probes, and so forth. You’ll all find a complete list in your inbox,” Mavriq indicated. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sophia scouring a box for a variety of medical tools which she was putting on the side.

Vin’s eyes fell out of focus, his consciousness seeming to drift off into some inner realm, before returning a moment later as if nothing had happened.

“Looks good. Thanks,” he replied, raising his cup in thanks before sauntering off. “Enjoy having your brains picked,” he added as he walked away. “I’ll be getting familiar with the toys meanwhile.”

“I’m sorry that we don’t have privacy yet,” Sophia chimed in, regaining the lieutenant’s attention, “I’ll be looking to have some separator panels installed later. Now, first I’ll be taking a sample of your blood.”

She approached him with a compact blood extractor in hand, its shape slightly reminiscent of a gun. Pulling up his sleeve and revealing his forearm, she continued: “I’ll analyze it later and give you a breakdown of your metrics, if you’re interested.” The extractor’s slim, cylindrical barrel was placed on his exposed skin, followed by a prickly sensation as a needle forced its way into his flesh. The unpleasant feeling lasted for only a moment before the doctor already retracted the tool.

“I would like to get the physical examination out of the way, and for that I’ll need you to remove your outer clothing. I would also appreciate it if you could give the lieutenant some privacy, Cass.” Sophia continued her instructions, casting a brief glance at the bored-looking woman who was vaguely observing the proceedings. “Suits me. I’ll go have a smoke or two,” she answered before getting up and marching out of the quarters. Sophia was not looking forward to explaining to Cass the many failings of her lifestyle.

“Next I’ll take a quick physical measurement of your height and weight, we’ll be re-testing your hearing and vision aptitudes, as well as doing muscle group and joint maneuvers. It’ll be very similar to your initial screening when you joined the military,” the doctor explained as she waited for Mavriq to remove his clothing. On the side, she was still giving instructions to her robot servants.

“Very well,” Mavriq said, his face impassive as his blood was drawn. It was a procedure he was adapted to as a scientist of the Origin Navy’s Science Division. Temporarily placing his dataslate on a table next to him to better follow Sophia’s instructions, he picked it up again as soon as such were satisfied, tapped it, and explained, “I’m verifying the medical history of all parties involved in this expedition are cleared for your access. The Origin files were, of course, transferred immediately. Civilians are notoriously difficult to fetch records for, however, and it is likely that some might not even have a full file. For example, right now it looks like Origin is still negotiating with Mercury for Cass’ and Vin’s are even harder to pin down -- you don’t suppose his augments are black market, do you?”

“I was going to ask you about your records,” Sophia flashed a rare smile. “It’s very foresighted of you to take care of the others too. I have not been able to examine his augs, so I can’t make an educated guess - but I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Well, during my multi-month journey from Earth, I had plenty of time to prepare an agenda,” Mavriq acknowledged.

“Your professionalism is reassuring, lieutenant. I admit, I had my doubts concerning some of the team members.” Although feigning clinical indifference as best she could, Sophia ended up pleasantly surprised by how much she enjoyed Mavriq’s company during the next hour and a half of his examination. Idly chit-chatting away whilst the doctor took measurements, scans and notes, time seemingly went by much quicker than either of them had anticipated.
@Verticus I'm happy to hear that :D If ever the fancy for doing more than looking strikes you, feel free to reach out to Circ or myself; we'd be happy to provide you with a Discord link to talk business.
With eyes tightly shut and her form awkwardly hunched, Adelicia held on to her staff for dear life as the elevator ascended. Her soft knees threatened to buckle under her whilst a tingling feeling developed in her stomach. It took every ounce of her will not to sit down and curl up until the ride was over and it was perhaps only the, for once, welcome distraction of Victor’s mumbling that helped her ignore her fears – if only by virtue of causing her aggravation. Maybe the hunter was right, maybe beasts were beyond salvation. But to consider murder the only solution to the problem… did he not stop to think what it was that created beasts in the first place? Had they no choice but to become slaves to the blood, cursed to repeat the same cycle of tragedy over and over? The church had taught her to think this way but doubt gnawed at her like a swarm of rats nibbled at a corpse. If she had not been feeling so queasy, she might have even given him a reply. Instead, all she could utter was a sigh of relief when the elevator came to a halt and its iron doors slid open.

She opened her slightly moist eyes and peered out into the street, where a row of quaint wooden houses perched upon each other. She was told the wooden buildings were mostly new, built to replace the ruins of the older homes that were destroyed in the last hunt. Just as she recalled that nugget of information, it dawned on her what horrible implications it promised for this night. A night of the hunt resulted in the ruin of entire buildings, even streets. She could hardly fathom such devastation, or being exposed to the forces that cause it. Yharnam was doomed, she thought, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by a pang of nihilism, and the city had only itself to blame. Just then, Victor took the lead and resumed his train of thought, no doubt trying to further justify the mindless slaughter of thousands but then – then he was gone. Not having properly seen what it was that yanked Victor out of sight, it was his gunshot that made her flinch and let out a shrill scream. Mouth agape, she stared at the empty space where the hunter had stood, feeling completely dumb struck for the few seconds of uncertainty that he was gone. When next she saw him he was hurtling forward, seemingly lifeless, onto the dusty cobble stones of the street.

But it was not the sight of the fallen hunter that made her heart sink – it was the sight of it. Feeling completely petrified, her fingers stiffened as if under rigor mortis around the grip of her censer. She had screamed moments before, but now all voice remained stuck in her throat. Staring at the thing, it was not the abhorrent, pitch-black coloration that made her hairs rise to a point, or its ghastly, blood-stained saber, or even its damnably glowing eyes. Something far worse clawed at her mind, digging itself up from the grave it had been consigned to for many years. It was the knowledge that she had seen this monstrous face before.

It had been late dusk in the charnel lane and young Adelicia had snuck out of the orphanage after dinner. With tears streaming down her unwashed face, she was desperately grasping for a filthy doll that had been placed some height from the ground in the leafless, gnarled branches of a tree. The girl clumsily climbed up the trunk, fell and tried again to the sound of a wild dog barking somewhere downhill, in the shadow drenched valleys. She could feel cuts and bruises on her arms and feet. After many minutes of agonized effort she was almost about to reach the doll when the sound of the dog’s surprised, painful yelp being cut short made her startle and fall, tearing off a branch. Slowly pulling herself up, Hemwick was suddenly very quiet – not even a single crow cawed in the distance. Fear compelled her to run, but fear also compelled her to stay. The doll was all she had, her ward against the nightmares and the cruelty of man. Undecided, she simply stood there, still as a candle, awaiting her coming fate. And then it crawled over the lip of the hill where she stood. Black as night, long and reedy like the tree she had climbed and with burning white eyes, like distant stars framed by the cold darkness of the cosmos. Perhaps she had fainted, or perhaps she had simply lost her mind. Falling over, bawling her eyes out, Adelicia had no idea what happened after that; save that she was still alive and that, when she had opened her eyes after an indeterminate amount of time, the creature was gone, the sun had set and her doll… was placed right in front of her.

Infantile memories resurfaced in her and, when she felt her back pressing against the rearmost wall of the elevator, could no longer contain her tears. If only she could tell whether they were tears mourning a wasted childhood, or lamenting her fated reunion with the demon of Hemwick.
Adelicia withheld a sigh of relief when Provostus, after menacingly drawing his weapon of choice, agreed with her after all. It was good to see some humanity remain in one whose appearance promised so little of it. Short lived, however, was her glimmer of hope – Victor wasted no time in reminding the both of them that the giant may end up slaying innocents in due time. Perhaps it would – the young Blood Saint knew little of the giants or their motivations, and tonight would be a strange night to be sure. Nothing could truly be discarded as impossible but she would not let that daunt her or her wardens. Their duty was to the defense of the city and, until proven otherwise, the sleeping giant was a part of it. If Victor thought that preemptive slaughter were an adequate form of protection for the innocent, she thought, then perhaps he ought to look in the mirror once in a while and consider himself. How safe would the citizens be with him about, unsupervised? Certainly, the giant may be the lesser evil after all.

Following in the footsteps of the man she began to revile, Adelicia was the second person to step into the elevator, her shallow heels and metal staff causing a series of unpleasant clanging noises until she settled in the corner farthest from Victor. Hopefully the ride would be a short one; while undoubtedly useful, she had no love for Yharnam’s elevators. They made her queasy every time, especially on the downward, and instilled little confidence in their robustness. She’d never heard of an elevator accident but she found it easy to imagine one. And besides, so she figured, her time amidst the peoples of Yharnam had been a short one due to her extended isolation. No doubt she missed many a tragedy with these murder cages as their cause.
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