revivalproject | Even When We Win, it Seems Like All We Do is Lose

Entry tags:

Even When We Win, it Seems Like All We Do is Lose

WHO: Cayde-6 and you I guess
WHERE: Deep End and outside around the city like a maniac
WHAT: Paranoia? What paranoia? Also scooping out any stragglers stuck in this snowy mess
WHEN: During the Storm
WARNINGS: N/A
NOTES: Will match pose prefs

I. The Deep End

"I'm sure Europa gets worse," the Exo says as he tries shoving the edges of a mattress back into place from where the wind had attempted to blow it loose from the hole he'd accidentally blown out in the hallway outside of the bar. The tarp definitely wasn't doing anything but he's sure no one's using this bed anymore and it's done well enough for a quick fix.

"There we go," he says, dusting his hands off and looking rather proud of his efforts. So many things can be solved with mattresses! Who'd have thought?

He stops by the window that he usually leaves open as his choice entrance and exit, now closed against the flurries, squinting out at the whiteness before turning to step into the welcome warmth of the bar. "Lakes don't freeze all the way through, right?" he says, peering at the great glass windows across from him and the watery life beyond. The unsettling feeling that they might just burst and flood everything is a lot stronger with all the craziness. Maybe he just needs a drink.

II. Open Arms of the Storm

Somehow, being outside doesn't feel as bad as staying inside. Outside, you didn't have to worry about anything collapsing or caving in. You were already in it. Sure, it's a terrible idea but there's something about the wild winds and the frigid temperatures that stoke something in the Exo, a thing he can't quite explain, but it counters the unsettling and inexplicable sensations he's had.

Unfortunately it does nothing for the ghosts with a lower-case 'g', and he's learned from the first storm to save his bullets no matter how bad the visitors got. But then they'd only got sneakier since Taniks. The latest card played has been a low blow however, and not one he'll admit to anyone if he can help it.

Running? Is that what he's doing? No, he'll deny that too. No point in running from an apparition that can appear wherever, heedless of the churning winds. He needs to keep himself occupied, keep his mind busy. Find any other fools out here that're built less sturdier than an Exo, for starters. That's a good excuse.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The shot that rings through the air has Cayde freeze, if not for long. Echo on edge means business. He waits, his hands still hanging in the air until he sees the clone lower his weapon. A brief if rueful grin flickers across his face at Echo's response. Hard to tell if the guy's angry-relieved or genuinely annoyed that he's the real thing. Cayde will choose to believe the former.

He rolls his eyes like some teenager caught sneaking out in the middle of the night when he's supposed to be on curfew, shoulders and arms dropping in a sigh. "Could ask you the same thing you know," he points out as he stoops down to quickly scoop up a handful of snow. He quickly pats it down and chucks the hasty snowball at Echo. Need any further proof?!

The longer Echo stares at him, the more he believes he may disappear at any given moment. But Cayde remains, sighing and acting the way he normally does before moving all too quickly for his present lack of comfort.

Despite having protection, the clone sputters, turning his head away as he blocks part of the loosely-packed snowball. In a huff, he forgets about his missing right hand, thumping the scomp against his armor in an attempt to dust off the snow still gathering on his chestplate. "I'd ask why you're joking at a time like this, but the answer's obvious," he frowns, a touch more irritated than usual.

"Who's joking? You're the one yelling at me- how else am I s'pposed to respond?" Cayde challenges, briefly eyeing the ground as he considers another snowball. Instead he steps closer now that he's sure Echo's not going to shoot him (hopefully).

"Sure you're okay out here buddy? I know you're like three-quarters of what I am but Exos came from an icy wasteland and I'm sure you did not."

"I'm not- " Echo visibly flinches, steadying himself as Cayde approaches him. The movement forces him to keep his left arm down at his side. He's not ready to let go of the pistol, not yet. Taking in a few breaths, he reins his paranoia in as best as he can, lowering his voice. "Yelling."

His tone suddenly loses its edge in one single word, worn and weak and waning. An invisible weight bears down on his shoulders, keeping him rigid and restless in his stillness.

"...I'm fine." A lie. He's not fond of the cold. He can feel his metal joints stick, feel how cold they've become after trying to avoid his current problems for a time. "I've had enough experience to handle it."

The Exo falters in his approach as he steps into some particularly deep snow, nearly falling over. He windmills his arms before throwing his weight to one side so he can pull his foot out and shake it off, taking a more careful step before he continues.

"You were too," he says with a grin. Having someone to bounce off of in this instance helps immensely. But that grin is brief, and Echo's weariness doesn't go unnoticed.

"Experience doesn't mean you're used to it," he points out. "Get inside. If you're worried about anyone out here, well that's what I'm here for. I'll take care of it."

The Exo's casual air and clunky, snow-driven movements ground Echo, reminding him that he's with a friend. None of the ghosts have done that. They don't have to worry about the depth of the snow, or how far their feet will sink into its growing drifts.

The laugh is short-lived, however, mirthless as it barely makes it past his lips. "I can't. Not yet." He shakes his head, letting his line of sight drop past Cayde, spotting something in the distance. At the same time, his grip tightens around the pistol. "Not like this."

A laugh is a laugh and Cayde figures if they can still do so in these storms then the things have no chance on winning over them.

He notices Echo's hand on that pistol, not turning to see for himself who or whatever it is the trooper might have seen. There's of course concern for his friend, who unlike him still has squishy bits to his name. Cayde sets a hand on Echo's shoulder.

"They're not real," he reminds him. "Don't waste your shots."

Echo tenses under the touch, his mind racing a mile a minute in deciding whether he should be throwing Cayde or shoving him back. Nothing else comes with it except for the words he shares with him, keeping him focused for as long as he can hold onto it.

"Every time," the former ARC trooper exhales a shuddering breath, trying to maintain his composure. "Every single time, there are different faces. Different reasons to come out and say something..." It takes a little longer for him to return the pistol to his holster, resting his hand over its grip. "I made a choice. I'm where I need to be. I didn't abandon anyone."

Cayde's fingers tighten just a little, a firmer grasp. He knows. He relates. Even without clear context, oh, can he relate to those words.

"That's the whole point of this damned thing. Storm hits, the ghosts come out. Try to put you down. I'd rather be taking bullets, believe me."

He drags in a breath or at least the sound of one, turning his head to look out at the frosty landscape. "So long as you know that, you don't have to convince anyone else. You don't question yourself either, because the moment you do is the moment you lose."

"Physical fights are easier," Echo agrees almost forlornly, still a shade off from his usual self. "At least you can take cover from bullets and plasma bolts."

He forces himself to look away from the figures that try to emerge in the background, glancing at the Exo with a nod. For all the times he's put up with Cayde, he's grateful that he understands. Uncertainty, however, finds its way into that assurance, disquieting among the noise, colder than the storm itself.

His eyes close for a moment as he takes another breath, trying to stay calm. "...I know it's been said before, but we need to do something about this."

"Part of the bigger problem, right? We haven't been doing so well on that end," Cayde sighs, nodding. He turns to try shooing away Echo's ghosts. Go on, git.

"No point standing in one place. Let's keep moving if you're insisting on staying out here." He starts to take a few steps, pausing only to try and reorient himself. Something catches his attention before he can start off again, his optics suddenly narrowing as he stares out at the wind-stirred snow.

"Hello...this one's new..."

The ghosts waver at the Exo's shooing, attempting to close in before winking out of existence with another strong flurry of snow flung in their direction. "Thanks, Cayde," Echo says, lifting his hand to wipe away the snow blocking part of his visor, testing out his knees and legs to see if they're still operational. "Ready whenever you are."

The one last check he means to do is put on hold when he notices the change in Cayde's steps. And for some reason, that uneasiness he's managed to ignore returns. "What is it?" he asks in a hushed tone, already on edge again as he searches for whatever the Exo is looking at.

"Right there," Cayde says, his attention unshifting as he continues to stare down the strange form in the snow. It's not one of his, that's for sure. Someone Echo knows..? The dark form is hard to make out, or maybe it's just that it doesn't come fully into focus. But it's there.

You know what you did, and your punishment has not yet come, it says, lifting a hand to point at him.

It's a dangerous look on the Hunter's face, but for some reason the serious set of his jaw cracks into a grin. Difficult to tell if that's an improvement.

Echo's eyes narrow, trying to look past the snow. It's harder to make out anything when everything is mostly white and black with no in-between. And from his perspective, he sees...absolutely nothing.

His head tilts with a snort when the shadows remain normal shadows. "Come on, Cayde. Quit pulling my leg," the clone half-whispers, but he hasn't relaxed at all. Not when Cayde's expression shifts.

The grin is a feature he's gotten used to whenever he's in the Exo's company. But this grin feels different. And kind of off.

"Cayde?"

"I think...we're finally getting somewhere," the Hunter says. In the next beat his gun's been pulled from his holster, smooth as a caress, quick as a lightning bolt. The shot cracks sharply enough to briefly shatter the sound of the billowing winds, exploding a chunk of bark from a tree beyond.

Cayde makes a sound like one would if they were clicking their tongue in annoyance. His gun remains at his hip, held in anticipation of needing to fire off another shot but the shadowy form was gone, same as the others. He tucks his Ace of Spades back into the holster, the grin long faded, his expression more guarded.

"You tellin' me you didn't hear that just now?"

"-The hell are you doing?!"

Echo is no stranger to the sound of a gunshot, but he's nowhere near prepared for Cayde's quick draw, taking a step back and instinctively raising an arm in self-defense. "No? I heard nothing," he says with a curl of his lip. The pistol finds its way back into his left hand, resting his wrist over his scomp just in case something else decides to show up. "I'm not seeing anything out there."

Slight relief, maybe. It does nothing to ease his nerves.

That has the Hunter blink, and he looks over at Echo with a frown. "Seriously? Shadowy but otherwise nondescript figure making threats? That definitely isn't anything from my past acquaintances and if it were from something beyond what I remember then that'd be kind of pointless..."

Now he looks a little more cautious as he casts his glance back out at the woods.

His head tilts a few degrees to the side, turning it into a gesture of disbelief. Confusion. Part of him wants to call Cayde out on spouting nonsense, but the lack of a joke diffuses his building irritation. Echo's eyes dart back over toward the trees. It's empty.

His own ghosts aren't even there. He should be glad they're gone.

"...Seriously. Everything's clear. For now." The clone doesn't put away his weapon, however, adding more urgently, "Are we moving or not?"

"Yeah...yeah." He glares out at the woods but nods. He's the one that said they should move on, after all, so move on they shall.

Not about to be cowed by unfamiliar apparitions, Cayde starts forward again. "You run into anyone else out here? You an' me are crazy and Felwinter's probably used to this crappy weather, but anyone else'll freeze their tails off in this."

"No one as real or as solid, anyway," Echo shakes his head, trudging through the deep snow to keep from falling face-first into it. "The ghosts got in the way of that objective."

He can hear voices somewhere behind him, like an itch he can't scratch, coming in closer, telling him he should stop running away, stop pretending to act like he's doing something worthwhile-

"I was going to do one or two more rounds to make sure," he continues, tense despite his practiced calm. "Although heading back inside is sounding like a better idea..."

"All they can do is throw words at you. ...at least this time around," he has to amend, recalling the occasions where that hadn't exactly been the case. Cayde's expression grows tight at the suggestion of going back inside, but he doesn't dismiss the idea. Getting Echo indoors is better than having him out. He's still got flesh to freeze.

"I can handle that much on my own. Where'd you leave the kid?" he asks, glancing back at him.

Echo unfortunately hadn't forgotten about those times. He would rather not have them at all, but there was nothing they could do about it.

He doesn't really meet Cayde's gaze, turning his head slightly whenever he thinks there's someone walking among the trees. But after a held breath, he emits a low sigh. "She's in the tower with the rest of her squad," comes his answer. "Couldn't turn the mothkittens out in this weather."

"Least she's in good company," Cayde says, managing a smirk. He turns his attention forward again, trudging through the snow. It doesn't seem like it matters what direction you tried to go, you always ended up against the wind.

Doesn't make him feel any better that it feels like they're being watched. A faint laugh echoes somewhere in the near woods, female by the sound. The Exo's footsteps quicken just a bit.

That's precisely the thought Echo had in mind. If he had a clearer visual, he would have taken Cayde's smirk as a small comfort against the restlessness that currently took hold of his common sense, keeping him just as equally hyper-vigilant.

The Hunter's tone is lost in the brevity of the comment, drowned out by the howling winds. He notices the change in pace, following suit before his foot immediately sinks into the snow and hits uneven ground. The clarity of another clone's voice throws him further off balance when he whips his head around in surprise to see where it's coming from, stumbling as he tries to catch himself.

Cayde's there, his hand reaching out to steady Echo. He gives the clone a nod, but something just past Echo catches his attention. Something about the Exo's facial features seems to tighten, his hand on Echo tightening just a little as well before he drags his gaze away and pushes on, intent on continuing to lead the way.

"For someone who claims that you don't know where you'd be without me, you're working very hard to avoid me."

Her voice is soft, but difficult to really nail down. But then if Echo's to look, he'd find that the woman speaking is just as hard to make out. It's like looking at someone through a dirty glass, unclear for details, but you still had a vague idea. She keeps to the shadows, standing just beyond the nearest trees.

Even When We Win, it Seems Like All We Do is Lose

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)