RPM
Guardian Angel Haruki
Antlers
Silly
NovellaAddict
Hexaflexagon
Whoami
Not a Sayan
JFK"Too many questions, not enough answers. Besides, according to the radio, a diplomatic mission was scheduled to arrive, but not for at least another day." Galahad replied idly as the others made their investigations and observations into the bodies and wreckage they had found. It wasn't a particularly long drive to the crash site, and the group of them had a modicum of armament procured from the Marshals. Gideon had snagged a rifle, Lori, a pistol. Barghast squad- aside from Zimmy, who was suffering from minor mist burn, and Gideon who had stopped to help, advanced on the crashed escape pod in a rough semblance of a formation. They were all on edge, what with the bodies, floating rubble, and oppressing mist around them. Galahad in particular was quite sensitive to the overwhelming amount of mist around them, in his mind's eye he could see rolling waves of translucent gas whisping around them.
Each of them viewed mist differently, some heard it, others like Galahad could see and feel the mist as though it were tangible and could be reached out and grabbed at by hand- which was probably why it came to Galahad so much easier than others. While the others investigated the burnt bodies and wreckage, Galahad stayed near the center of their formation, focusing on more important matters.
"Stop." Galahad grunted towards Setzer as an arm grabbed Setzer's shoulder and pushed him over a half step to the right. "Mist Spot." he said simply as a way of explanation.
To most, Mst was invisible, and hard to detect, and even those trained in detecting the Mist could find difficulty tracing it in such a Mist-Hot location- such as the crash they were currently investigating. Some or the larger pockets of Mist were easily recognizable: the floating rubble and intense heat were things that people could easily notice and avoid. The more difficult to spot plumes were the medium strength plumes of Mist. Their energies masked by the intense heat of the crash itself, the Mist spots, while not as deadly as walking face first into a Mist spike, were much more dangerous due to their difficulty to spot and side-effects. Mist burn was an injury commonly experienced by search and rescue crews- and was often their cause of death. Much like radiation, absorbing too much Mist from these invisible plumes would cause nausea and could destroy the body quickly if left untreated.
It also made the use of energy based and ranged spells problematic. A lightning bolt could set off a stray pocket of Mist, and then they'd all be in danger. And since detecting some these Mist pockets were difficult for even dedicated mages, it effectively gimped the range that they could safely fling spells. More of a problem for himself than any of the other members of the team, as no one else was a dedicated spell slinger, at least not in the same vein as himself.
The escape pod was actually a fairly ornate looking thing- or at least it was supposed to be. Much like the rest of this ship, everything about these Vangars seemed to be for form over function: The Class A uniforms, the oppulent ship, hell even the escape pod seemed to have been gilded with some sort of golden metal. It would've been quite nice to look at it it wasn't scorched black, dented to hell and half slagged. Galahad found it hard to believe anything actually survived this fall, but Lori had detected life, so this was their first and best shot at finding out what the hell was going on.
Galahad grabbed at the door of the escape pod- or what was left of it. The handle- hinges, and most of the door itself had been slagged shut. Taking a moment to take stock of the mist around him, Galahad opened his mind's eye. He grabbed at the smallest whisps of mist he could find and weaved them into the door. There was a dull crack, and small bits of metal showered them as the lines of the doorway peaked out of the slagged surface. Taking a step back, he clapped a hand on Setzer's shoulders.
"Alright big guy, your turn."
Each of them viewed mist differently, some heard it, others like Galahad could see and feel the mist as though it were tangible and could be reached out and grabbed at by hand- which was probably why it came to Galahad so much easier than others. While the others investigated the burnt bodies and wreckage, Galahad stayed near the center of their formation, focusing on more important matters.
"Stop." Galahad grunted towards Setzer as an arm grabbed Setzer's shoulder and pushed him over a half step to the right. "Mist Spot." he said simply as a way of explanation.
To most, Mst was invisible, and hard to detect, and even those trained in detecting the Mist could find difficulty tracing it in such a Mist-Hot location- such as the crash they were currently investigating. Some or the larger pockets of Mist were easily recognizable: the floating rubble and intense heat were things that people could easily notice and avoid. The more difficult to spot plumes were the medium strength plumes of Mist. Their energies masked by the intense heat of the crash itself, the Mist spots, while not as deadly as walking face first into a Mist spike, were much more dangerous due to their difficulty to spot and side-effects. Mist burn was an injury commonly experienced by search and rescue crews- and was often their cause of death. Much like radiation, absorbing too much Mist from these invisible plumes would cause nausea and could destroy the body quickly if left untreated.
It also made the use of energy based and ranged spells problematic. A lightning bolt could set off a stray pocket of Mist, and then they'd all be in danger. And since detecting some these Mist pockets were difficult for even dedicated mages, it effectively gimped the range that they could safely fling spells. More of a problem for himself than any of the other members of the team, as no one else was a dedicated spell slinger, at least not in the same vein as himself.
The escape pod was actually a fairly ornate looking thing- or at least it was supposed to be. Much like the rest of this ship, everything about these Vangars seemed to be for form over function: The Class A uniforms, the oppulent ship, hell even the escape pod seemed to have been gilded with some sort of golden metal. It would've been quite nice to look at it it wasn't scorched black, dented to hell and half slagged. Galahad found it hard to believe anything actually survived this fall, but Lori had detected life, so this was their first and best shot at finding out what the hell was going on.
Galahad grabbed at the door of the escape pod- or what was left of it. The handle- hinges, and most of the door itself had been slagged shut. Taking a moment to take stock of the mist around him, Galahad opened his mind's eye. He grabbed at the smallest whisps of mist he could find and weaved them into the door. There was a dull crack, and small bits of metal showered them as the lines of the doorway peaked out of the slagged surface. Taking a step back, he clapped a hand on Setzer's shoulders.
"Alright big guy, your turn."
