revivalproject | Disregarding Bombs and Satellites

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Disregarding Bombs and Satellites

WHO: ~~Warlord~~ Felwinter and you!
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT: A Risen's Arrival
WHEN: Late June
WARNINGS: N/A
NOTES: Will follow pose preference

❅ Around the City Center
He's not sure how long people have been here to do so, but it's at least obvious that there has been some work in repairing the abandoned city, signs that there is life. The weather here is much more warmer than the mountain he has made home, and yet he does not seem bothered in the least for the heavy and worn, long greatcoat that flows around his boots, nor the odd helmet with its twining pair of horns that obscures his face. The only thing that truly bothers him is the lack of having his shotgun, which he catches himself reaching for beneath his coat on more than one occasion, at the slightest sound of something nearby. He is always on the lookout, his gaze though hidden behind the helmet, never remaining in one place, his feet never pausing for too long until he has a wall at his back.

❅ The Library
The provided map had said this to be a library, and he'd gravitated there out of some sense of need for familiarity. He'd Awoken in a library. Perhaps here he'd find more information to supplement what the sphere had told him. Entering the place, he finds himself deeply disappointed by the empty shelves and the lack of materials. No old tomes litter the floors, and for its emptiness it doesn't look quite abandoned so much as just...lacking.

Floating at his shoulder a silvery drone of sorts looks back and forth, seeming just as disappointed, if not surprised. "Maybe it's being repurposed?" she suggests.

The helmeted figure gives a vague shrug, his head turning subtly as his unseen eyes scan the empty shelves for anything he may have missed. All at once he tenses when he realizes he's no longer alone here. Turning sharply, he grasps at that slippery thread of violet-tinged Void energy until it coalesces into something more tangible in his fist as he faces whatever company he finds himself in.

❅ Hangar // The Twin Roses
It occurs to him that the most obvious thing for someone to do if they found themselves brought somewhere against their will is to find a way off the planet. He doubts that it would be that simple, as hardly anything is, but there is a hangar, and it does house ships. Which begs the question of why anyone chooses to stay.

Although Felwinter has a feeling he knows the answer, he investigates anyway. It's not something that takes too long, as the first ship he happens upon does not react to open, and it surprises him that even his Ghost cannot hack into it. They go through several more before finding, to their surprise, that one admits them entry. Naturally the warlord heads for the cockpit first, settling into the seat, hands settling upon the controls almost expectantly, although he doesn't seem terribly surprised that nothing happens. Still, he sighs.

❅ Choose Your Own Adventure!
(AKA create a starter if none of these suit! Since Felwinter's exploring he will shamelessly stick his nose anywhere with obvious access)

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Finding flying cat-creatures stalking him had not been one of the possibilities Felwinter had in mind. He starts, his hold on the void slipping, violet energy fading from his hand. "...what...?"

His Ghost floats back at the the sudden attention she's found upon her. "I'm not sure. But I don't like how this one is looking at me," she notes, her shell bunching up in something of a scowl.

Felwinter watches as the one moves closer to paw at his helmet. He hasn't had much interaction with wildlife so he's not sure what to make of this behavior.

The movements of the Ghost catch the mothcat's attention and it's ears perk up with a little meow before making a move to flutter forward and closer to the Ghost - Only to be plucked out of mid-air by a pair of hands, much to the feline's own surprise.

"I'm sorry about them." Jon speaks up while pulling the somewhat wiggly mothcat into his arms and holding her close. "They are harmless, but like everything that glitters and shines."

"Don't you dare," the Ghost warns, her shell still tensed that one can't be all that mistaken for taking it as a glare. She seems just as surprised as Felwinter when the furry threat is suddenly removed.

The Risen's helmeted head turns towards the unassuming man, but he's managed to keep himself from reaching for a gun that isn't there, his hand slowly easing beside him. "Is that so." He looks at the remaining creatures, lifting a hand to the one that's been pawing at his helmet.

Felspring pointedly keeps behind him.

"Well." Jon shrugs, holding the mothcat close while the other has its attention drawn to the offered hand, flutters over to it to rub its head through the hand's palm.

"They might want to play with your Ghost." But at least Ghosts are too big for the felines to carry away.

What a strange thing. Felwinter's hand stiffens a little as the creature starts applying its head to it, forcing his fingers to relax as it appears no harm is meant. His faceless helmet turns towards Jon almost inquisitively. What is he supposed to do????

The Ghost huffs a bit, fanning out her shell with the sound. "I'm not really in the mood for playing-" she starts, but realization sinks in, as even Felwinter turns his head then to exchange a look. They both then turn their attention back to the man.

"You're familiar with Ghosts?" Felwinter asks.

The mothcat Jon has captured by then has submitted to her fate and rather than to continue her squirming has decided to snuggle up against the Archivist's neck, purring loudly with the occasional flutter of her wings.

The question is answers with a simple nod. "Well, yes. We have two other guardians here already."

His reaction is maybe a curious one, chin lifting slightly, but he shifts his weight where he stands, tensing just a little.

"...'guardians'..?" The term is unfamiliar in whatever sense the man means. "You mean Risen?" Only the Risen had Ghosts, and most of them were no guardians of any sort. Felwinter hesitates.

"Are they warlords? Have they given anyone trouble?" Those seem to go hand-in-hand, and with so little to lord over around here, he wonders that the place is even standing at all unless one of them has been driven far away from the city ruins.

Jon raises a brow in return. "Trouble? On the contrary, but- I feel that we have different interpretations of guardian." He tilts his head a little before shaking it. "Neither of them is a warlord. One is a hunter, the other a warlock. They are working as hard as anyone else to rebuild this city." And actually may have some experience with rebuilding unlike many others that were brought here.

"What exactly do you mean by the terms warlords and Risen?" He wonders.

"I do not know the word has been used in reference to us," Felwinter says. A hunter and a warlock... He looks at his own hand thoughtfully before glancing at his Ghost. Well, if these other Risen are helping to rebuild, then surely they cannot be as bad as some of those they've encountered before.

"Risen are the ones who've been brought back from death," the Ghost helpfully supplies. She's much more animated in how she speaks than her 'Guardian', perhaps strangely enough. "Unfortunately the power goes right to their head for a lot of them, and with the way things are, it's easy for them to take advantage of it, especially over those who aren't Risen. It's more common for Risen to be warlords than not, I think. They even call Felwinter a warlord, just because he threw one off the mountain we claimed."

"Huh. I see..." That is news to Jon, who by this point considers the mothcat in his arms soothed enough to walk with her to a nearby shelf and set her down there. Her siblings follow, but still keep a curious eye on their visitor.

"I can't speak for Ikora and Cayde, maybe they are familiar with the term. But from what I have been told the guardians protect what is left of their Earth against various alien forces." He gestures lightly with his now empty hands as he returns. "But you may want to reach out to one of them. Cayde... left me a book. For this library. Writing down his story. It's... Unusual. But you can read it if you like."

He pauses for a moment. "Also.... Why did you claim a mountain...?"

"Working together to protect?" He has rarely heard of Risen seeking to look out for the Lightless, turning their attention on external threats. They did not call them warlords without reason. The names mentioned do not strike him as familiar, but he seems interested that this library does have books at all, head lifting slightly.

"Fortifiable," is his response regarding the mountain. He was not about to say it was because it seemed like an ideal place to hide. Felwinter snorts lightly at his Ghost. "And I shot him first before I did that," he clarifies as though that's any better.

"You shot his Ghost too," Felspring notes with a nod.

Jon nods in response to that initial question, then frowns at the following little exchange.

"Please don't shoot either of them - Or their Ghosts." Just a simple request Jon didn't think he would ever have to make.

"If they pose no harm to the Lightless, I would not think of it," Felwinter replies in a matter-of-fact tone. "You describe them as 'Guardians.' I would like to believe that they have greater interests than of themselves."

His Ghost seems to shrug at Jon. "Not like we arrived here with a weapon anyway," she huffs. "Unless there's an armory or something. This place looks run down but is it safe?"

The Lightless. Now here is a curious word to encounter. Certainly not one Ikora or Cayde have used before. Jon gives a slow, pensive nod. "Right. Then you won't have any reasons to move against either of them." Outside of certain circumstances, but Jon feels that mentioning these details now would only lead to confusion.

His attention moves to the Ghost. "Safe depends on your definition of the term. For the most part it is. Most of the wild life stays outside the city and the energy storms are nothing one can fend off with a weapon. The Security data point grants access to a small selection of weapons, but-" He trails off into a shrug.

Felwinter folds his arms, shifting a little where he stands at the mention of the storms. "The storms..." he begins to say, but both he and the Ghost perk visibly at mention of a security datapoint and weapons. Both even seem to tilt their heads as the Archvist trails off.

"..." Again the two exchange a look between them before Felwinter looks at Jon again. "'But'..?" he prompts. "Is something wrong with the weapons? I have heard something of these...datapoints." Unpleasant, but if they provide information, he will look into them.

Jon shrugs. "They only work as long as a person has the matching expertise. Trying to use them without the information of the data point results on quite literal backfiring." That's enough for a but, right?

"I see." So one needed literal instructions just to make proper use of these weapons. Felwinter hums thoughtfully. His Ghost meanwhile scoffs, flaring out her shell with an exasperated sigh.

"Someone's really got some control issues here," she mutters.

"...and somehow we forget the information one data point has provided us with once we switch to another." Jon adds with a little sigh. "It's.... Not ideal."

"Really?? I don't think 'not ideal' is adequate enough. I'm concerned about the 'forgetting' part- it already sticks all that info into your head without warning. And then it saps it back out again once you pick something else?"

The Ghost pauses in her ranting, twitching back towards Felwinter, the warlord silent, contemplative. "Felwinter..." she says, her tone rising in caution.

"Can that information be recorded? Backed up?" Felwinter asks, looking past his companion and towards the Archivist. "Perhaps it isn't feasible to write everything down, but even just key things. Can they not be shared and retained that way? Then committed to memory without use of a datapoint, so that you can switch and yet not completely lose everything."

A grim little chuckle escapes Jon at that question. "Oh, believe me, I tried. I made written, audio and video records. But the data points don't merely give you information, they also provide you with the necessary understanding of said information. You can read up all the theoretical facts about these weapons or about the fluids used in the hospital, but making the necessary connections to use this information, use these devices- You will need to pick up the expertise."

He huffs and takes a step backwards, shaking his head. "And I am not meant to forget anything!" It hurts.

The warlord seems taken aback by the chuckle, unsure of how to process that reaction. He folds his arms as he mulls upon Jon's words, a thoughtful sullenness.

"I see," he finally says, if begrudgingly. He has been around long enough to understand the differences between having knowledge and having wisdom to apply that knowledge. He ignores the staring from his Ghost; both know that there will be some extensive testing to see just how things work with those datapoints.

"Well you sure sound certain of yourself," the Ghost notes, her attention swiveling back towards the Archivist then, the top of her shell lowering in such a way that it looks like she's scrutinizing him. Which she is.

"I am." Jon simply replies, then gives a little nod towards the mostly empty shelves. "I can show you where I keep the records on the data point." Which he remains willing to share, obviously expecting others to return the favor in case they make different observations.

The empty shelves don't seem to impress the Ghost, who after a glance just looks back at Jon rather flatly. She fans her shell out and tilts back towards Felwinter, who nods at the Archivist then.

"Please. Those should be helpful," Felwinter says.

"Follow me." Jon says with a small gesture of his head to indicate for Exo and Ghost to come along. He heads back into the main hall of the library and between two of the high shelves.

And indeed, on a few of them a couple of items are actually stored. Even a few books. Cayde isn't the only donator any longer. Even an entire encyclopedia consisting of several thick volumes has found its way on these shelves. There are still folders filled with hand-written notes and stacks of meticulously labeled cassette tapes.

Jon is aware that written language doesn't get auto translated as spoken language does, but he also knows that Cayde's home world is an alternate version of Earth, so chances are that Felwinter understands English just as well.

Felwinter falls in step after Jon, looking around at the depressingly empty shelves as they make way. At least they aren't completely devoid of contents, but it's still a sad sight.

"...was it always like this?" he asks, his helmeted head turned towards the barren shelves beside them.

"Well. They were covered in shards of glass and electronic parts, dust and some debris when I took the place over." Jon has spent a decent time cleaning the place up already.

And he adds a shrug. "Made certain the building is as protected from the storms as possible."

"But no books or anything?" Anything that should be found in a library? How strange.

Felwinter looks back towards the Archivist then. "These storms. You have experienced them?" The datapoint didn't have much to go on about them, save for their apparent harmfulness towards the actual locals of this planet.

"The Agrii don't possess a written language." Jon clarifies and picks up a small very personal looking notebook from the shelf and flicks it open on a gathering of admittedly poor sketches of different pictograms and turns it around for Felwinter to see. "I searched the entire city for clues about an existing written languages, but they only appear to be using images to communicate certain things. Up until now I remain uncertain if they even have an actual language of their own as I have only ever seen them use our language. My assumption was that they actually communicate telepathically, but..." He sighs, shaking his head. "I failed to ask when I had the chance." As much as Jon hates to admit it, he has been more caught up in his very own personal matters.

His expression gets a little tense at the mention of the storm. "Of course the data points don't have much about the storms. They were left behind by the Agrii who literally don't survive them. The ones I experienced were hardly physical in nature, but affected us mentally. They especially appear to affect your senses and how you perceive the world around you."

"I can see how that would make things difficult," the warlord muses. He looks over the notes Jon shows him, nodding slowly. It's nothing like he's ever seen. That the Agrii might just communicate by different means does seem just as possible as anything else.

"That does give good reason towards the datapoints and the way they divulge information," he concedes. But then why weren't there more of them?

His expression remains unseen, but there's a tense silence that follows once Jon describes the storms by his own experience. "That sounds like more than just a storm. How is that even possible?" To affect mentality, perception... Felwinter pauses.

"...although if what you assume proves true about the Agrii being telepathic communicators, then a storm that assaults the mental perceptions does seem reasonably harmful for them."

"Unfortunately these are all mere assumptions." Jon points out with a sigh that makes it clear that he would prefer some actual answers rather than these guesses.

"I keep these records as updated as is possible for me and add what new things get found out- As long as these information are being shared with me, of course. But most of us prefer to share their findings."

Sometimes assumptions and guesses are all one has to go off on anything, at least in Felwinter's experience. "Perhaps. But even assumptions can lead to facts if enough detail is gathered." He's spent years searching for answers to some things. It's tedious and frustrating, but sometimes necessary.

He nods about the records. "That makes sense," he says. He can understand the reasoning, and in regards to information such as this, he can even agree. It would be more beneficial for everyone to have access to what they've found out about this place, these circumstances and what they're dealing with.

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Disregarding Bombs and Satellites

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