Avatar of Sylverblu
  • Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
  • Joined: 10 yrs ago
  • Posts: 222 (0.06 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Sylverblu 10 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

8 yrs ago
Oh, bugger off.

Bio

Born.

Schooled.

Thought.

More schooled.

Today.

-The Sylverblu Manifesto

Most Recent Posts

"You know how to use that?"

"Orion, please wake me up when we arrive."

Kazik had settled into a passive state of observation when there was a crash against the ship, sending it careening off course. Instinct took over, and he formed a tripod of sorts against the seat and the wall using his arms, and drew his sidearm with the one not in use. The pilot commanded that everybody abandoned ship, something which Kazik was none too eager on. Regardless, he acknowledged it to be the safest course of action, and prepared for an exit. This squad leader violently bucked upwards and crashed into the ceiling, only to be thrown out the blown-open side of the ship. Firmly grasping a pipe connected to the wall, Kazik remained in control before the ship stabilized a bit. Another round passed by the hull, looking remarkably similar to…

Oh no.

Kazik leapt from the ship in a twenty meter base jump, and landed with a roll followed by a stumble. In the distance, arcs of Fallen weaponry could be seen discharging towards who he could only assume to be Andromedai. Recalling that Guardians could be torn back from death in most situations, Kazik noted that he would not be so lucky. Making a quick glance around, he concluded that he was safe.

With a short blur of purple, a small servitor warped out of Kazik's armor.
"Scan for walkers in the area," he commanded in Fallen tongue, and the little orb began releasing a faint, radar-esque pulse. As he began to settle into an uncomfortable wait, Kazik heard a familiar sound behind him. Turning to face the threat, Kazik saw a Fallen captain uncloaking behind him.

"You fell from their ship."

"They had me imprisoned. I only grabbed my weapons in my escape."

"I do not recognize your banner."

"Ancient House, long forgotten. Worn for nostalgia. I am a mercenary now." Kazik was nervous that his lies would be seen through, but kept his voice bold and powerful, glad to have his face hidden behind such an aggressive mask.

"You will come with me for… debriefing." Kazik knew what that meant. He had said that to many before, always before their death, torture, or kidnapping. Usually the first. Reaching for his hip, his hand floated through the air where his sidearm had been. Looking to the ground, he realized that it fell out of his hand during his fall. The opponent did not respond to this well, and with impossible speed, drew a shrapnel launcher. With a single pull of the trigger, Kazik was sent flying back, his Void Shield trembling from the impact. He would not survive another. As he lay on the ground, dazed, Kazik saw the stealth captain approach him slowly, methodically, sadistically. He pointed the shotgun at his chest. He made a sound not unlike a chuckle.

"You are a bad liar, traitor. House Sin should have stayed de-," he was cut off as a small bolt of purple appeared as though from nowhere, knocking out the leftmost two optic sensors on the captain's helmet. Looking over, he saw that a tennis-ball sized Servitor floated boldly, almost defiantly, awaiting destruction. In a moment of tactical stupidity and rage, the captain moved his weapon from Kazik to the Servitor—a foolish decision.

Kazik sprung from the ground, having drawn his shock rifle during the captain's distraction. He emptied a magazine into the creature, only for most of the rounds to leave pathetic burn marks against the armor. The captain retorted, but not before Kazik drew a shock blade, using the extended reach to knock the shrapnel launcher from the Fallen's hands. With a lunge, Kazik impaled the foul creature, the razor-sharp edge and arcs of scorching electricity piercing the armor effortlessly. For a moment, the captain was stunned, a moment which Kazik took to calmly reload his weapon. Withdrawing his blade and kicking the captain to the ground, Kazik stood in a position much similar to the one he had been in before. Plunging the barrel of his shock rifle into the hole made by his shock blade, Kazik burrowed upwards as the captain howled in pain. Without mercy, Kazik held down the trigger. At first, there was just a muffled splattering. As the magazine drilled on, however, the sounds became less muffled, until shock rounds poured out of the captain's exploding head.

As the weapon clicked empty, Kazik withdrew his rifle and reloaded it again. He was breathing heavily.

Let's not do that again.

In the distance, Kazik saw storm clouds approaching. It was now that he received a transmission, commanding him to aid Andromedai. Grabbing his pistol from the ground, he headed towards where the fight that he saw had been in a fast gait, the Servitor trailing just behind him, still sending out pulses intermittently as it searched for the machine which Kazik had no doubt felled their ship.

* * *


Disgregarding the dead Fallen and pool of blood Kazik stepped up to his commander, identifying himself with the symbol on his cloak.

"Where are others? We should leave now. Virisk scanning for enemy artillery. I would not want to be here if he finds any."
Dressed in the clothes of a scientist, the man scuttled into the chamber hurriedly. It was dark, but not so dark as to be blinding. Moreso, the chamber was in a constant state of sunrise – or sunset. Directly opposite the door, the goddess sat on something akin to a rather modest throne, thinking, as the room continually vibrated precariously.

"Miss?" The man'a voice trembled; he was nervous, and rightfully so.

"Yes?" The vibrations stopped as the woman opened her eyes, freed from her meditation.

"There are, well, some people outside. They look and feel like sin. They said that they were here for you."

"Good! They've finally arrived." Sylvia rose, and hurriedly started for the exit.

"Miss? I don't suppose you could be bothered to tell us what's going on. We're all quite alarmed."

Sylvia paused, and turned her head to her disciple. "Don't worry about it. You're here with me because you're one of the smart ones, and smart people know when to let the big kids take care of things. Just a little bit of tension is all." Before the man could retort, Sylvia gently nudged him out of the way and entered the main hall of the building. She cleared her throat.

"All! We have guests, as I'm sure you've heard. These guests are important, and I've no idea how long they're going to be here. I'll be taking care of them for the most part, which means that all of you have a very easy job: keep up the hospitality. If they ask you to do something, either you do it or you prepare for the consequences that they will be dealing out to you. I'm giving them all explicit permission to kill any of you if you misbehave. Play nice, and keep up the refreshments." With the tip of an invisible top hat, Sylvia smiled and threw open the front doors, seeing two seemingly opposite figures resting on the benhh to the left.

"My dears, my dears! Bienvenue à Paris!" With a soft clap and a friendly tilt of the head, Sylvia put forth her best 'hostess' attitude.

"You're welcome to come inside if you please, if my people are half competent and fear for their lives there should be some local cuisine waiting on a table right on the entrance as soon as we head in." Sylvia then recalled that she had yet to specifically address her guests. She offered one hand to each, and gave a greeting nod as she spoke.

"Light, Dark."
The voice will take some getting used to since we've spent a year listening to Peter Dinklage but Nolan North's voice casting does sound promising. Sounds more like a scientific AI which does fit the role nicely.

On the side note, I (believe) completed one of my character's subclass quest and was awarded an nice looking Titan Mark...That I can only equip at level 40. This pre-order option for the digital copy needs to exist soon.


Announcement, in case you haven't heard: pre-order isn't available on 360 because something something Microsoft. However, you can buy it on launch day and get all of the pre-order bonuses because Bungie feels bad for us scrubs.
@ShiningSector Helm of Gold-14 with Million Million makes me cry tears of happy.
@ShiningSector Brass is also on 360, meaning that we have an excess of available people.

Also, I just finished downloading the update. The new shaders make me stupidly happy, and nothing pleases me more than seeing a fresh Year 2 Helm of Saint-14 waiting for use.
Rumble this weekend, let's go.
I'm just waiting.
360 for life
@ZetsukoI do believe that we are going to Mars.
How… crude.

This was all that could ring through Kazik's head as he saw this new 'game' that was presented before him. Seemingly based off of creating the most crude comedy, to play this was to demonstrate both the immaturity and the lack of cultural sophistication that Kazik expected of himself.

"I will not be joining you all in this… game." Leaning forwards to the thermos of tea, Kazik poured himself a cup. He was accustomed to this difficulty, given what a social cornerstone the combined act of drinking and eating was. Opening a small hatch in the side of his helmet, Kazik allowed for a small amount of ether to seep out before the automatic shut-off valve triggered the halt of all flow. Pouring the tea into this hatch, a vacuum detected the liquid and began to pump it through the appropriate channels in order to get it where it needed to be. Such a feature had been commonplace in Fallen armor ever since the migration to Earth, allowing for scouts, scavengers, and any others that might be away from a Skiff or Ketch to consume liquids without disabling life support.

The tea was tolerable, as far as the humans' beverages went. He's certainly had worse. It was more that Kazik wanted to portray politeness, something which he tried to make evident with an awkward thumbs-up display from one of his hands.

It was only now, fully withdrawn from his competitive trance, that Kazik could be bothered to notice the music playing. Old Earth, Pre-Golden Age. Tasteful and classy, though often dull and only used as a tool to portray an image. Kazik let out a soft, oscillating grumble, a chuckle of sorts.

Ah, these people.

Readjusting his seating to accommodate a more reclined position, Kazik intertwined the gloved fingers of each hand and rested them on his chest as he leaned back. He remained silent, observing the social interactions before him through the cyan, unblinking eyes of his helmet.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet