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[The helmeted visage that appears on-screen hesitates for a moment before nodding to a soft-spoken prompt from someone not on-camera.]

I... [Ugh. How do people even go about this?]

Greetings. [Yes. That seems about right.]

I have not been here long in this city, but neither have I made my presence all that known. I thought that this method would be most expedient to change that.

My... name is Felwinter. While I am no stranger to struggles of survival, I admit, I feel a little...out of my element here.

[By the slight turn of his head it seems that he looks somewhere past the camera, a point confirmed when the off-screen voice speaks up again with an encouraging, "Go on!"

Felwinter seems flustered a moment before he directs his attention to the tablet again.]

In my seeking to understand how I can be of better aid, I have explored the various datapoints and what knowledge they offer. The overwriting of information is...strange. -I digress, however.

My point being... What would be most useful?

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Footsteps crunching lightly on grass. It wasn't the slow approach of someone coming down the overgrown roads so much as someone floating gently down from the air. With the way he dressed one might think it was anything but hot out, the helmeted figure wearing a worn but still serviceable greatcoat, its length flapping about at his boots with each step.

Being that Tony was the only one there in this smoky vicinity, Felwinter made his way towards him, head turning fractionally this way and that every now and then as he walked along, as though he expected an ambush.

The drink was rapidly forgotten as Tony watched Felwinter...touch down. This was about to be way cooler than even that alluring helmet had seemed on screen. And while the coat was strange, it was less strange that he was wearing it in the heat than it was that he was dressed over his armor at all. "You're an Exo," Tony greeted, still perched and staring from the table, and maybe that much should have been obvious, but it wasn't like he looked that much like Cayde. Cayde was turning out to be a very misleading blueprint.

That observation caused him to slow his steps deliberately as he approached the man, his attention all at once quite focused upon him. "How do you know?" he asked, his wariness kicking in. His tone was lacking for inflections, with only the subtlest shifts to convey the barest trace of emotion, the difference between him and the emotive Cayde a vast ocean.

"...are you the other Risen?" he continued, coming to a stop with a meter or two to spare, calculating distances, blind spots, angles of possible attack. Wait, his Ghost whispered in his helmet comm.

It wasn't exactly a secure position. Tony's bench was a few feet away from the wall of the forge, where Felwinter had to pass the dark, open door to reach him. It was quiet enough in the dead city that the crackle of the fire from inside could be heard, and if Felwinter was particularly perceptive, the mechanical whir of the camera crouched in the corner of the door frame as it tracked and scanned him. Either of those sounds could have obscured the noise of someone else moving inside, or further around the back of the building; they were up against the edge of Temba here, only a few yards from the forest that was dense and dark enough to keep most of them from exploring too far, and to conceal anyone who might want to be watching. To the other side, the abandoned factories with their myriad dark windows loomed. Tony himself was noticeably tense, though if that was from a coiled threat wasn't immediately obvious in the calculating way he watched Felwinter, like he was also listening to a code whispered in his ear. What the tension actually was, was partially a cramp in Tony's leg that he hadn't really taken notice of as he worked, and a mounting excitement as Felwinter confirmed that he had a new opportunity to reverse engineer an Exo.

The smile that started to tug at Tony's lips stiffened in confusion at the question, though, and he replied, "A--what?" He had a whole database of Guardian lingo in his head now thanks to Ikora, he was supposed to be more prepared to charm this one down to his circuits. "Maybe," he decided to accept, and finally set aside his iron to swing his aching leg off of the bench with a groan of discomfort. "I'd rather you call me Tony, though."

In those silent seconds Felwinter took everything in, his internal assessments an all too familiar running mantra. What he couldn't see beyond, at least Felspring could provide a rough idea with her radar. But even without other people around, there were plenty of things that could be identified as threats.

"The librarian said there were two other...Guardians," he said, as though the term was a strange one to him. But then, it was. Never before had he met a Risen- no, even those who were without the Light- so... He wasn't even sure how to describe him. Carefree?

"Tony." He hadn't moved from where he had stopped.

That was fine by Tony, who gladly limped the static out of his leg as he made his way over, swinging his hands to hook behind his back like he was deliberately keeping them to himself and out of trouble as he got close, and circling Felwinter from a few steps away where he tipped his head in shameless admiration. "Ikora?" he guessed enthusiastically at first, more readily associating her with 'librarian' and sure they would have found each other quickly if they shared a dimension like it seemed, but that didn't sound quite right; Felwinter said two others, and as far as Tony knew, they only had the two to boast about. He stopped his predatory pacing as he realized, "Jon," with some accusatory acid, far less willing to forgive this librarian for keeping such a secret from Tony. Felwinter was going to have to figure out what those two tones had meant some other time, though, because Tony took his chance to get up close then, hands still held back but rocking up onto his toes to bring them nose to...well. "Is that a helmet?" he asked, eyes curious bright and searching. There wasn't an obvious practical reason beyond the psychological familiarity that an Exo would need a face as delicately animated as Cayde's, but it would be strange for the design of this one to suddenly stop there when the rest of him looked so humanoid.

That circling certainly wasn't going to help his existing paranoia. His Ghost attempted to reassure him that there was little else he could possibly know, but he knew that even she was a little on edge. He started to shake his head as Tony played his guessing game, unable to even fathom why the sudden change in tone- a possible enemy? A threat?

Suddenly the human was there, in front of him and much too close. Felwinter suspected a knife or a sidearm to follow shortly, cursing once again his lack of a shotgun but quickly reaching for that slippery thread of the light, grasping it firmly in hand, the blazing heat of the sun wreathing it, forming the flaming blade of a sword.

"Stand. Back."

Evidently, that wasn't the move to charm Felwinter, and Tony did acknowledge that with a thoughtful pout and a nod as he rocked back, hands up in surrender with one twirling by his ear to replay where exactly he had gone wrong. The tapes were pretty clear. Despite this acknowledgement, Tony didn't appear particularly intimidated and held his ground instead of scampering back to his workbench, eyebrows raised expectantly for the acceptance of this surrender display to slowly lower his arms again while they both calmed down and found a level together.

"Very impressive trick," he admired, talking quickly to quash the tension until Tony's voice didn't allow it any more room between them, "But I hope you're not leading with your best, because I gotta say, I've kind of seen that one before and it's starting to lose its edge. And, don't get me wrong, big Malorey fan, the imagery is vivid, I can see why you like it, but a sword? If you're trying to get me excited, listen, you already got my attention, I'm already in, you can dial it back on the aesthetics. If you actually wanted to hurt me, you're getting off track."

It wasn't his first choice, but in that moment he felt better having a weapon in hand than to grasp the void. He could feel how it strained, but he was trying to grow accustomed to it, to see how much of an effort it took to use and sustain his powers so that he would not struggle when he actually needed it.

Felwinter lowered his blade, but was still on his guard. He held the flames a little longer before, an underline to an unspoken statement before finally relinquishing the solar energy. "I do not understand you," he said, plain and simple. This one spoke words and words on top of words. "If you'd attacked me, I would certainly have killed you." Another statement. He would do nothing in halves. You didn't give your enemies chances, not those back home who would take advantage of any moment of weakness.

Tony did give him the barest nod of acknowledgement for the statement well made, and was glad to drop his hands to his hips, head tilted in consideration. "I'm sure you would have," he allowed, "but something tells me you wouldn't need to conjure a sword to do it." It, and Tony in general, would start to make sense eventually, if Felwinter could handle the development phase. It wasn't an easy ride, so Tony could help him out a little bit with a flick of a finger to illustrate, "That was just pageantry." He was something of an expert.

He studied his fingers as he flexed them, hoping the unsteadiness he felt on his feet didn't translate into too noticeable a sway as he considered the effects of his use of power. Perhaps it would be easier to manage and maintain with practice. He looked at Tony quietly then.

"I don't have my shotgun," the warlord admitted.

That wasn't what Tony meant, either, so he accepted the declaration with a chuckle and nod, sure, and took it as more of a sign of unsteadiness in this new place, without familiar foundations, than anything that Tony could identify in Felwinter's posture without a baseline to compare against. Maybe he was always kind of off balance like that.

"I'm not going to attack you," Tony offered, more gently than the staccato shot of his chatter, and spread his hands again, empty and without threat. "Unless you're into that kind of thing, but I have to say, dying is a hard limit for me, so we're going to have to negotiate."

That was something Felwinter had suspected, and yet old habits still kicked in. He wasn't very well acquainted with anyone to compare, and those who spoke with confidence and pride were often the very ones to watch out for. The rest of the people lived in fear of them, trying simply to make it through each day while waiting with bated breath for when another warlord might rampage through them or expect tribute in exchange for protection.

It's different here, his Ghost said softly in his audio receptors, and the Exo nodded wearily. That they should still be careful was not something that needed to be said.

"No. That is...unnecessary," he sighed, reaching up then to remove (oh hey, so it is!) his helmet. Tony's gaze was met by the glow of burning eyes inset within a sleek black skull. "You invited me here to speak of usefulness, of what a place like this requires so that it can prosper again."

Tony reacted more strongly to this than he had being threatened with a fire sword, stepping back on one foot with his eyes wide with shock before he was rocking right up close again, hands out at his sides this time with his fingers curled and twitching like they were already prodding instead of respectfully restrained behind his back. Now that was beautiful, smooth and polished and Tony could already see where it would come apart at the seams like a puzzle box.

"That's a big question," he could at least multitask. "And, please, the bigger the better. But I've found you're at your most useful when you're doing what comes best. So, what's your thing? Shotguns and swords? We can use that. Close combat, sure, put you at the front of the line if it gets hot. You think quick, then, you hit hard, you're not a stranger to taking a few shots yourself if that's your range." How that fit in to building a city when there wasn't something to fight wasn't entirely clear yet, but Tony was talking it through. He probably wouldn't put Felwinter in the kitchen, anyway.

Even without being filtered through a helmet Felwinter's tone was almost impersonal, his words not quite hollow but with only the barest coloring of a personality. His optics shuttered in a blink almost in afterthought, shamelessly staring as though striving to read Tony's thoughts directly as though it would take less deciphering that way. He tucked his helmet under an arm.

"If I must," he said after a moment, not refuting the assumptions put forth by the man. "But what is there to fight?" It seemed the obvious question to ask. If this was the ruins of a battlefield it would make more sense, but aside from the provided history, most of the damage he'd seen was from age and absence.

"Mostly ourselves," Tony admitted, and gave Felwinter his breathing room for a moment as he settled back on his heels with a thoughtful scratch through his beard, like he was trying to intuit the talents of the Exo. Maybe it was entirely to this end and not at all Tony's curiosity when he asked, "Does the rest of it come off?"

That came as no surprise to him. People didn't seem to ever be fully content with peace. There were always those who wanted something more. Felwinter was perhaps a little disappointed. He'd hoped that maybe this would be a place that was actually different for a change.

His expression hardly shifted when Tony made his next inquiry. "The rest of what?"

The answer was a vague flutter of Tony's hand at...all of Felwinter, you know, the rest. With a tug at the hem of his own shirt, Tony said, "I'd show you mine, but it's not my talents that are under consideration here." Was it the flirting, or the promise not to attack that got the helmet off in the first place? The promise, obviously, but Tony only had so many of those, and plenty of pickup lines. "We're figuring out what you're working with and you're not giving me much. What's your thing? Flowers? Yoga? Sudoku? You're really..." he continued, and laid a steady hand flat between them only very briefly before he had to acknowledge, "Besides the sword thing, that was a bit dramatic."

From his silence, Felwinter wasn't really catching on. Apparently the Communications datapoint didn't cover Tony-ese. It was strangely unnerving conversing with the man, not that the warlord was much of a conversationalist to begin with. He held up his free hand, but rather than summoning up more flames or the Void, his Ghost unfolded in that familiar shimmer of light.

She wasn't nearly as fancy as Ophiuchus or Sundance. Her shell was the default in shape, her coloring a plain silver. Even simply shaking herself out she displayed more personality than Felwinter had in several sentences. Swiveling in midair, she looked Tony up and down.

"He's a warlord," she supplied. "Fighting and killing, protecting- that's kind of their thing."

"There you are," Tony smiled, just as pleased to see this new Ghost as he was to meet another Exo, and glad to be able to place the voice of encouragement in Felwinter's life. So far, the Ghosts of the other Guardians seemed to have been well matched, so Tony wasn't entirely sure what to make of her animation in contrast with Felwinter's stoicism, gaze darting briefly back to the Exo to try to spot some of that energy concealed somewhere in his posture as he said, "You must know him better than anyone. To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

The topmost of her points shifted downwards to give Tony the vague impression that he was being scrutinized. Felwinter may as well have been a statue for how much he'd budged since lowering his hand again.

"Of course. But that doesn't mean I have to tell you anything about him," the Ghost replied with a shrug. She glanced back at the Exo before turning back towards Tony. "I'm Felspring."

Tony welcomed the scrutiny with a hand on a cocked hip, tilting his head with an inviting smile despite the singes from his fingertips to his elbows and the black smudges staining his clothes. If he presented it like it was his finest tailoring, maybe she would buy it. "Felspring, that's sweet, like you're siblings. Are you siblings?" he asked, not about to assume he actually had the Ghost thing figured out. That was going to be an ongoing discussion with Ikora, he suspected.

"Listen, you don't, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, I'm just trying to figure out what you've got going for you and help you out. If all you're interested in doing is the fighting, killing thing, then, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but you're going to be on ice for a while," he said, gesturing out at the quiet city and the lack of immediate physical threat. "But I'll be sure to give you a call when we're out of options."

"No," both replied simultaneously, before Felspring added, "He named me." She wasn't taking responsibility for the name, apparently, and Felwinter still wasn't seeing why this was a problem.

"Our experience is limited because that is all we have had to do," the Exo said. He glanced almost hesitantly at his Ghost before continuing. "We were seeking information, old technology lost from the Golden Age that might better help people live their lives. I had...inherited a settlement, at the foot of my mountain. I wished to help them."

There was enough tension about the matter that Tony's gaze darted between Guardian and Ghost quickly, eyebrows raised and lips pursed before he blew out a breathy, "Okay." Tony wasn't all that interested in prodding at awkward family dynamics. He could see already how much Felwinter relied on Felspring, though, just in their few interactions, very anxious for a...warlord. Not much like any Tony had met yet.

"Okay, that's something. We've got some, uh, technical knowledge, archaeology, maybe, we have some experience looking for treasure," Tony observed, but they both had to hang on that pregnant pause before Felwinter landed on 'inherited', leaving Tony's hand winding in the air as he tried to decide how head on he wanted to confront that editorializing. "Community management," he eventually proposed, looking thrilled that he got there, then quickly skeptical with his mouth pulled to the side that Felwinter had the charisma for that skillset.

The response from both Exo and Ghost was a resounding silence. It was quite clear that they were more or less in agreement on that skepticism at least. They were barely managing their own community back home. Largely the people were left to their own devices, and if another power-mad warlord came along, they'd deal with them personally.

Eventually Felwinter shook his head.

"...perhaps I should take more time to consider things," he sighed as he took up his helmet in both his hands again, lifting it to slip back over his head.

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in_extremis - 2021-07-12 03:22 (UTC) - Expand

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tyrants_son - 2021-07-12 03:56 (UTC) - Expand

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Network - [Video]

Maybe it was a trap all along!!

spidermanpointing.jpg

XD

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