True to his word, Jon takes them out of the main corridor and through a few connected rooms which Jon would love to investigate, had they the time to do so despite how unremarkable they appear at first glance. From those rooms they cross a smaller corridor into further rooms and this repeats a few times, with their little group being able to easily spot further force fields at varying levels of functionality. Some run smoothly, others are as erratic as the one Cayde has flung his knife at.
When they finally reach the corridor leading directly to the Green Room, the force field keeping their invaders trapped can be seen right away, flickering on and off irregularly, yet not sparking as viciously as others they have passed. Right. If no one is supposed to get out, no one is supposed to just get in easily either, right?
Now this is where they could have used their communicators in a functional state - And maybe the ship not getting attacked. Though as it is, they are on their own. Jon looks around the sides of the large door, hoping to maybe spot a control element somewhere. But with his level of technical knowledge? That can be literally everything. So his attention quickly shifts to Cayde, the question clear on his face.
"So... We try just slipping through while it's off? Or do you think we can deactivate it somehow?"
Had they the time to spare, Cayde would have loved to go snooping around. The possibility that anything he'd find would be utterly useless without downloaded instructions, along with the prospect of a fight in the very near future has kept him focused. The unstable force fields they pass here and there are noted, studied as they go on.
"With the systems shorting out like they've been? I don't think we can do anything on our end without upping the chances of getting even more fried," the Exo says as he eyes the Green Room beyond. He shifts his attention to the door and its flickering field, looking for patterns tbat probably don't exist.
"...how are you at gambling?" he asks, still watching the door, smirking as he pulls Jon over with an arm about his shoulders. There is no doubt what he intends to do. The question is whether Jon's up for that risk or not. He has a few seconds before Cayde is going to otherwise run right for the opening.
"Never tried." Jon answers truthfully while doing the same the Exo does: Observing the energy barrier in their way in hopes of finding himself able to see through a pattern that isn't there. "What about you?" He can guess what Cayde has in mind and, truth be told, isn't entirely fond of the idea. And yet he hasn't a better one to offer up instead.
Will they end up like Cayde's knife? Charred and smoking on the floor?
"Well there's a first time for everything," Cayde says, all too cheerfully. "Me? Oh, pff. It's gambling. I like high risk, high reward."
That...doesn't necessarily answer Jon's question, but if there's any thing Cayde's convinced, it's that if you let yourself hesitate, then you'll definitely fail because you won't be doing anything at all.
"Ready set-"
He makes the move, the moment he thinks he sees the flicker of the force field that he hopes he's identified as just before it weakens, and really hopes it's not the opposite, because otherwise it is going to hurt. A lot.
Here Jon sure could argue whether or not the potential reward for this risk can be considered high or not. But they have come for potential information, and the lure of it is, unfortunately, very real as far as Jon is concerned. So rather than protesting against Cayde's choice, the Archivist makes sure to have a good hold on the Exo - And close his eyes that very moment he notices Cayde pushing forward.
Jon manages not to scream. Which is mostly the case because he keeps his jaw clenched shut tightly even as it seems for a moment that they are about to rush straight into the force field in front of them.
But then the shield flickers and for a very short moment is gone, permitting them to slip past.
It's probably not the first time he's leapt headlong towards a force field. It's probably not even the first time he's done it on purpose. And thankfully it's one of those times that he won't have to regret his life choices as they reach the point of no return and...pass right through to land within the Green Room.
"Woo! Made it," Cayde says, grinning as he pats Jon reassuringly on the back, maybe also reassuring himself in the process. Of course they've officially entered enemy territory. His gun's up but not aimed, however at the ready. Has their entrance been noticed? Or are those big lugs too busy doing...whatever it is they're doing?
For Jon it's certainly the first time to leap into a force field, but it's not his first time making a reckless decision like this for the sake of acquiring knowledge.
At least this time he doesn't only have himself to blame if anything goes wrong. And yet... Jon likely will blame only himself if anything goes wrong. So far at least things go... Well? Maybe once his heart rate settles again Jon feels convinced of that, even.
"...aight." He says with an exhale, glancing over to Cayde raising his weapon. Pulling his own out of one of the tool belt's large pockets, Jon rather clutches it before taking a step into the quite large - and quite green - room, which rather feels like stepping into a forest than still being within a space ship. Looking around for a sign of their intruders, Jon does the one reasonable thing: He calls out.
This isn't at all how Cayde's used to doing things, and mindful as he is about the fact that his present company's unused to such operations, he still has to give Jon an almost exasperated look as the man calls out, his slight gesture accompanied by a quiet but emphatic, "Really?"
The rustle of something stepping through the greenery and the subtle crunch of footsteps has him spin around to face that direction. He can't help but bring his gun around, it's a reaction that's been drilled into him. But as the first few of their invaders apparent come into view, the Exo's reaction is less than diplomatic.
Jon's reaction isn't too dissimilar to Cayde's in that he, too, spins around in surprise and raises his gun, the sight of the two weapons making their curious invaders stop in their tracks and their remarkably unintelligent eyes just stare at the perceived threat.
Three of them react by spitting in the direction of Cayde and Jon, with Jon finding himself just barely able to stumble out of the way from one of those sticky shots and quickly raise his arm to block another from hitting him straight in the face. The impact happens with a gooey splashing noise that causes Jon to wince, especially as some of it still sprinkles part of his face.
"S-Stop! Please! We just- We want to TALK!" He shouts quickly, panic wrapping his words into a thick layer of compulsion that causes a faint crackle to run through nearby electronics, including the nearby force field, which stutters and briefly shuts off entirely. He also tries to cast a quick, imploring look over to Cayde, hoping the Exo doesn't open fire himself as well.
Cayde was ready for some sort of attack, so when the spit flies, he moves nimbly to evade. "Gross!!" It makes it a little difficult to keep an eye on Jon when he's going in the opposite direction, but for a moment it looks like the guy's managing well enough.
...a brief moment, anyway.
The Exo's eyes widen as Jon gets splashed, and he seems to vanish briefly in a brief sparkle of light between another spatter of spit, appearing at Jon's side. He pulls the Archivist behind him, gun raising to take aim. The crackling that happens in the wake of Jon's words are what initially keep him from firing right off the back, and he catches the look from the man, squinting, but waiting, hoping he's not making a mistake in giving these things a second chance.
Being pulled away from where he stands is met with a short noise of surprise from the Archivist, but he is glad that Cayde doesn't shoot right back. Especially since the invaders have indeed stopped moving or attacking them further. The looks on their faces make it obvious that they don't understand what's going on, but equally aren't upset by that lack of knowledge.
Their pause allows Jon a moment to look at his arm, where the substance they have been spitting at them has eaten through the fabric of his shirt's sleeve and has reached his arm, where it just... Sits? Seemingly evaporating already. It doesn't really hurt. At best it itches a little and feels gross. Maybe human skin can't be harmed by it? He casts Cayde a short, questioning look, then shrugs, not making an active move to wipe the stuff off his arm or his face, where only a couple of gray patches scattered between his already present scars appear to be left from the hit. The frame of his glasses sizzles slightly at two points where it has come in contact with the spit, however.
"M-maybe it doesn't hurt humans?" He voices his thoughts and moves to look around Cayde and at their opponents, who still just stare at them. "I- I will have to keep them in my... I need to be able to see them. If they don't understand what I'm saying verbally, I will have to--" Jon tries to offer as explanation and lets his eyes move from one invader to the other, gesturing vaguely before pointing at one of the larger members of the group.
"Tell me." He starts, this time actively focusing on making the unfamiliar being talk - Or at least willing to communicate. The crackling settles into a low, steady buzzing noise emitting from wires and electronic parts built into the ship around them. "Who are you? And why are you here?"
Sorry, Jon, but your questioning was about to be interrupted. When the forcefields started to break down, Keith and Lance had managed to get back to moving again, but the attack on the ship had them headed back to the bridge, the pair in medical temporarily forgotten. On their way back, they'd seen Cayde and Jon running towards the Green Room.
So, they went after them to catch up. And they just did, not far behind.
"What the quiznak?" Keith had never seen Jon's power in action... so... welp.
The way that spittle was eating through Jon's sleeve is concerning. Cayde meets the man's eyes with a slightly more concerned look than earlier. It probably isn't too difficult to see where his thoughts are going with that. The "Uh-oh" that follows Jon's observation says plenty enough.
Casting a cautious glance back towards the strange creatures, the Exo eases back a little, enough to let Jon have a clear view of them. He tenses as Jon Speaks, addressing the other group, his optics flicking uneasily about at the sounds that seem to respond with the man's demands.
Across from them, the bearlike beings shift, growing more nervous as Jon singles one of them out. It snarls, and then begins to snuffle and snort, or at least that's what it sounds like at first. It...must be trying to talk? Maybe? There aren't really words to make out, just a lot of guttural noises barely heard above the crackle and hum of electricity. They've also got a definite splash zone, spittle flying every now and then with the creature's apparently frustrated response.
"Uuuh...you get any of that?" Cayde asks, looking even more uncertain. The footsteps coming up from the doorway they'd entered through have him looking over- as well as some of the creatures who've been seemingly held in thrall of Jon's power. The Exo holds a hand up towards Keith and Lance, a signal to forestall any attack- at least for the moment.
"I- I understand him alright." Jon responds with a slight tilt of his head in Cayde's direction after having taken a step forward again, pretty much placing himself between the Exo and those beings before him. He may not get hurt by their spittle, but Cayde lacks human skin. It's only reasonable they use this little advantage they have.
His attention returns fully to the creature Jon has picked out, the arrival of additional members of their group not quite registering with him. "...but he doesn't understand me. I will have to... G-give me a moment." He shakes his head once against a bit of fuzziness creeping into his vision, then narrows his eyes at his target and focuses. This is far from the way Jon has hoped for this to go and by no means ideal. Not with the strain it puts on himself - And his victim. Forcibly extracting knowledge and having knowledge pulled from one's mind... It's just not a pleasant experience for anyone involved.
The first thing Jon encounters when reaching in is confusion. A lot of it. And a nearly overwhelming lack of understanding. They don't know where they are, why they're here, why they're carrying weapons, who brought them there, what happened, who or what the Agrii are. There is nothing. They know NOTHING!
Gritting his teeth and clenching his hands into fists, Jon pushes deeper into the creature's mind, knowing full well that this will be painful for them both. Graq. That's what they identify themselves as. There's the memory of them being on what may be an actual planet and things were good there. Then there is the memory of them awaking on this ship, armed. And the resulting confusion about what happened.
Jon releases the Graq and fixates on the next, disregarding his own accelerating breath and the agitated tremors of his body. He can easily blame them on his frustration with how little he has been able to get from his first target. With his second victim, Jon moves straight past the clutter of confusion, lingers briefly with some fear he finds tied to this Graq witnessing what happened to its companion just moments ago.But aside from that, Jon is once more faced with a mind-numbing lack of knowledge, understanding and the most basic accumulation of simple fears and more memories of that unfamiliar planet.
It's with a snarl and a heated exhale that Jon moves to the next of the Graq, pushed forward by his own stubbornness to find something of use while ignoring the clear signs of exhaustion of his own body and mind - as well as potential objections the Graq might have to his approach.
Cayde's still not quite sure he understands what's going on, but by the response of the aliens, he's not sure Jon's method is going to keep them on the right side of things. His glowing gaze shifts between them and the Archivist.
"Jon..." he says quietly, after the man has switched between the second to another. The other creatures clutch their weapons tighter, fear in their eyes as they can only look on as something seems to be happening to their comrades, and yet they can't understand just what, and the ones who've had their minds sifted through are left shaken and agitated by what's occurred.
"Jon."
The Exo sees the strain, the changes in the Archivist's own behavior as he proceeds, and while he doesn't raise his voice, Cayde's tone is firm, as is the hand that he extends to grasp the man's shoulder. He'd come to protect people, but the last thing he'd considered was the possibility of having to protect them from themselves.
"Gah!" The shout is one of surprise underlined with a degree of pain as the grip on his shoulder pulls the Archivist back from what he's doing. A hand comes up to his face as he stumbles backwards against the hold, muttering something unintelligent, yet judging by the tone angry to a degree. But the muttering fades as Jon tries to blink his eyes open from having pressed them shut on instinct. Unfortunately, that doesn't make things any better.
The room refuses to come into focus, but rather keeps spinning and twisting and attempting to take on shapes that don't exist. He can make out the shapes of people across the room, however. And if he squints, Jon believes he can identify these people.
Is that Cal over there, peeking out of those bushes? Those are bushes, right? Oh. And there are Tommy and Billy. And Cayde is there along with Catra, right next to Steve and- Tony? Why is he here? He doesn't look good, swaying and holding his head...
"...oh no-" Jon mutters, his voice absent and he reaches a hand forward before following that motion with unsteady steps away from Cayde and towards the aliens.
Jon's shout makes Cayde flinch, the grip of his hand loosening, but with how unsteady the man appears to be, still remains on his shoulder. "You can be cross with me later, right now I need you to pull back."
The Exo isn't sure what to make of the Archivist's revelation, whatever that might be. He concludes that maybe Jon's realized he may have gone a bit too far, maybe wants to grab whatever pieces of this tense ceasefire still remain. Not exactly something Cayde considers advisable, especially given how the creatures begin to draw back with I uncertainty and fear, and some of the others begin to growl and look about ready to start hurling acid loogies again.
As Jon steps away from him, Cayde takes a step after him to pull him back. "Iii don't think that's a good idea buddy. Hey kids?" he adds in the direction of the others of their team. "I have no idea what just happened but I think we just made them upset. On your guard, disable only until we can get some things straight-"
He yelps as a goopy projectile flies past his head. "-and watch out for the acid spit!!"
Jon feels himself pulled back abruptly and turns to look at whoever has been holding him back from his friends, only to find himself facing a large, arachnid monstrosity. It clicks its mandibles at him hungrily, eyes glowing brightly while a clawed hand holds onto his shoulder.
He screams. It's loud, it's terrified and the Archivist struggles with what strength he can muster to free himself and back away from this monster trying to keep him from his friends.
"L-Let me go! Let me go! Please! Let-- Don't! HELP!!" The last part is clearly shouted in the direction of the invaders as Jon has resumed trying to reach those he perceives as people he cares for. As it is, he remains entirely unaware that some of the Graq have taken up to spitting at them again. Which of course means that Jon makes no move to dodge whatever is fired at him, but currently being the loudest and most confusing person in the room is sure to make him an obvious target.
Not that his mind notices any of the shots hitting him with the room still busy turning itself into an inverted pretzel and back. Did Steve just spit at him?
That makes Cayde release Jon quickly. There's no denying the terror on his face, in his scream.
"What the hell- Jon! Snap out of it!" the Hunter shouts. He jerks to the side and ducks as more spit flies, and seeing Jon attracting most of the attention, he leaps at him to tackle the Archivist out of the way. He's still not sure what's going on but neither is he sold on that stuff being completely harmless to organic beings. Why else would they be spitting at them?
The moment Cayde lets go of Jon, the Archivist darts away not nearly as swiftly and as successfully as he would like. His legs and feet don't fully cooperate with what Jon wants them to do and the result is much rather a graceless tumble than an escape.
In his mind, at least, he is running. But even in his mind he doesn't get far before the monster lunges after him and pushes him to the ground, resulting in further screams as it bears enormous teeth at him.
He pushes his hands frantically against the beast's throat - or what Jon presumes is its throat, which out of his mind much rather results in panicked slaps against Cayde's face. Tearing his eyes away from the monster, Jon does his best to fix his attention on one person. His probably last chance to frantically call for help.
"Oh my cotton socks, did y- ack! Break your brain with that trick or did you swallow some of that- argh! Spit!"
Slaps really don't do much to hurt a metal face, although it is kind of annoying, especially when Cayde's trying to do them both a favor. Or at least he thought he was. He turns his face away, mostly to try keeping Jon from making too sharp a smack against his beautiful, beautiful horn. Although he knows Jon's obviously not in his right mind, the panic, the imploring tone from the Archivist is painful to hear. He sighs, then bodily shoves Jon away from him as a fresh round of toxic spit comes hurtling towards them. The Exo can hear the material of his cloak sizzle as it starts to sport a new hole.
"All right, I'm gettin' kinda pissed off. Before, it was just gross, but now..."
He glances at Jon, and then at the bear-creature beings that have been gathering in full force for all the attention the Archivist's been drawing. "HEY!" he shouts, hauling himself up to his feet and raising his hand cannon towards the ceiling. As though some switch has been thrown, golden flames ignite and wreathe his body from the end of his boots to the tip of his gun, his normally blue optics glowing amber like liquid fire.
Normally this is where he'd start shooting, but he's at least given some consideration as to collateral damage, and he's not sure how well the inside of a ship would hold against the solar element of his Golden Gun. At this point he just wants people to shut up and stop doing stupid things. That's usually his job.
Once again Jon is being released and at this point it's panic and adrenaline alone that keeps him going as he scrambles yet again to get away and towards the illusion of safety. As much as he tries, though, Jon just doesn't seem capable of pushing himself up onto his feet, for the swirling floor shifts between being made of glass and lasagna and an odd ink that threatens to swallow him and often it's just all these things at once and all he really wants is to escape this nightmare and reach tony and-
And suddenly the monster behind him bursts into flames.
Jon freezes in his panic and turns his head to see as three more spit projectiles hit him, burning holes into his clothes and seeking into the skin beneath. But Jon doesn't register that. He's sure his heart has stopped entirely at the sight of the flaming terror about to end him.
A final shot of the acidic stuff hits the side of his head angrily and knocks the Archivist down onto his side. Jon hits the ground with a low thud and remains there, wide, desperate eyes staring at the cackling mass of giant limbs and flames as he grasps helplessly at anything to defend himself with. But there is nothing right there for his hands to get a hold of.
Well, Cayde wanted to get their attention and he's got it. He still has absolutely no idea what's going on in Jon's head but it's hard to tell how much worse he's made it when the guy's being slammed by flying alien spit.
At least their target changes dramatically then. The strange creatures absolutely panic, their focus shifting away from the poor babbling Archivist as they start concentrating their attacks at the flaming Exo. Spit and weapons discharge, the former hissing upon contact with his fiery aura. It's much more obvious how unused to the weapons they hold are, not much by way of aiming although there's still definitely a risk of getting hit by their random fire.
And then even the weapons themselves fly as some of the bearlike creatures in their terror start hurling them in the Exo's direction, not that they're very aerodynamic. Some clatter near Jon, but maybe given everything else going through his mind, getting accidentally beaned by weapons is an improvement.
As much of a waste of a charge as it is, Cayde refrains from firing outright. Instead he charges, using his temporary advantage to get in close to the creatures. He feels the familiar, if unsettling hiccup of whatever connection the Light had been earlier disrupted, but by then the golden flames engulfing him have started to die out. Yet he keeps moving, swinging his hand cannon around to try knocking out flailing creatures with a smack to the back of their heads with its grip.
Jon hardly notices what's going on at that point. But he does still notice the monster. The one that actually looks like a monster and is threatening everyone.
It moves. Not at, but past him, as some semi-present part of his brain decides to point out.
He has to do something. Anything. He has to help!
But how. How can he help when his limbs are bolted to this floor of semi-solid cement? When his head got engulfed by a vacuum and his right arm is visiting different places?
Someone is shouting nearby...
Somehow he manages to turn onto his back. More or less, at least. His remaining hand flops away uselessly, fingers brushing against the cold material of discarded weapons.
Right. He can shoot. He has learned that - Shooting.
Without looking, Jon's fingers try to grasp the alien weapon, his mind limping somewhere behind when he somehow manages to pull the trigger, sending a blast of energy through the room.
Frenzied alien bear-things are a lot more easier to deal with than swarms of Thrall that just want to claw off your face. It's almost sad, really, watching them try to use their weapons, the only real clue that Cayde has to figure that they aren't something the creatures are familiar with.
He hopes that if his earlier suggestions to just disable them hadn't been heard, that his actions would be noted by the others of their counterstrike team. Not that this is feeling very 'counter-y'. He can't tell if people have gotten hit by flying gobs or stray shots, but at the moment he's of the mind that it's better to take care of the main problem and deal with others, such as crazed Archivists, once there's less things being shot at him.
And then he gets hit from behind by a wild blast that burns across his side. It sends him stumbling into one of the other bear things, which in turn ends up getting sandwiched between the Exo and a tree before it slumps down. Cayde groans, looking down at his smoldering side, assessing whether it's done more than just singe his worn armor, deciding he's certainly taken a lot worse, and in the end it's better than getting melted.
He looks back to see which pugbear he's missed when he realizes who exactly had pulled the trigger. "JON! Quit helping!"
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revivalproject2020-08-05 02:19 pm
no subject
When they finally reach the corridor leading directly to the Green Room, the force field keeping their invaders trapped can be seen right away, flickering on and off irregularly, yet not sparking as viciously as others they have passed. Right. If no one is supposed to get out, no one is supposed to just get in easily either, right?
Now this is where they could have used their communicators in a functional state - And maybe the ship not getting attacked. Though as it is, they are on their own. Jon looks around the sides of the large door, hoping to maybe spot a control element somewhere. But with his level of technical knowledge? That can be literally everything. So his attention quickly shifts to Cayde, the question clear on his face.
"So... We try just slipping through while it's off? Or do you think we can deactivate it somehow?"
no subject
"With the systems shorting out like they've been? I don't think we can do anything on our end without upping the chances of getting even more fried," the Exo says as he eyes the Green Room beyond. He shifts his attention to the door and its flickering field, looking for patterns tbat probably don't exist.
"...how are you at gambling?" he asks, still watching the door, smirking as he pulls Jon over with an arm about his shoulders. There is no doubt what he intends to do. The question is whether Jon's up for that risk or not. He has a few seconds before Cayde is going to otherwise run right for the opening.
no subject
Will they end up like Cayde's knife? Charred and smoking on the floor?
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That...doesn't necessarily answer Jon's question, but if there's any thing Cayde's convinced, it's that if you let yourself hesitate, then you'll definitely fail because you won't be doing anything at all.
"Ready set-"
He makes the move, the moment he thinks he sees the flicker of the force field that he hopes he's identified as just before it weakens, and really hopes it's not the opposite, because otherwise it is going to hurt. A lot.
no subject
Jon manages not to scream. Which is mostly the case because he keeps his jaw clenched shut tightly even as it seems for a moment that they are about to rush straight into the force field in front of them.
But then the shield flickers and for a very short moment is gone, permitting them to slip past.
no subject
"Woo! Made it," Cayde says, grinning as he pats Jon reassuringly on the back, maybe also reassuring himself in the process. Of course they've officially entered enemy territory. His gun's up but not aimed, however at the ready. Has their entrance been noticed? Or are those big lugs too busy doing...whatever it is they're doing?
no subject
At least this time he doesn't only have himself to blame if anything goes wrong. And yet... Jon likely will blame only himself if anything goes wrong. So far at least things go... Well? Maybe once his heart rate settles again Jon feels convinced of that, even.
"...aight." He says with an exhale, glancing over to Cayde raising his weapon. Pulling his own out of one of the tool belt's large pockets, Jon rather clutches it before taking a step into the quite large - and quite green - room, which rather feels like stepping into a forest than still being within a space ship. Looking around for a sign of their intruders, Jon does the one reasonable thing: He calls out.
"H-Hello?"
no subject
The rustle of something stepping through the greenery and the subtle crunch of footsteps has him spin around to face that direction. He can't help but bring his gun around, it's a reaction that's been drilled into him. But as the first few of their invaders apparent come into view, the Exo's reaction is less than diplomatic.
"...yuck."
no subject
Three of them react by spitting in the direction of Cayde and Jon, with Jon finding himself just barely able to stumble out of the way from one of those sticky shots and quickly raise his arm to block another from hitting him straight in the face. The impact happens with a gooey splashing noise that causes Jon to wince, especially as some of it still sprinkles part of his face.
"S-Stop! Please! We just- We want to TALK!" He shouts quickly, panic wrapping his words into a thick layer of compulsion that causes a faint crackle to run through nearby electronics, including the nearby force field, which stutters and briefly shuts off entirely. He also tries to cast a quick, imploring look over to Cayde, hoping the Exo doesn't open fire himself as well.
no subject
...a brief moment, anyway.
The Exo's eyes widen as Jon gets splashed, and he seems to vanish briefly in a brief sparkle of light between another spatter of spit, appearing at Jon's side. He pulls the Archivist behind him, gun raising to take aim. The crackling that happens in the wake of Jon's words are what initially keep him from firing right off the back, and he catches the look from the man, squinting, but waiting, hoping he's not making a mistake in giving these things a second chance.
no subject
Their pause allows Jon a moment to look at his arm, where the substance they have been spitting at them has eaten through the fabric of his shirt's sleeve and has reached his arm, where it just... Sits? Seemingly evaporating already. It doesn't really hurt. At best it itches a little and feels gross. Maybe human skin can't be harmed by it? He casts Cayde a short, questioning look, then shrugs, not making an active move to wipe the stuff off his arm or his face, where only a couple of gray patches scattered between his already present scars appear to be left from the hit. The frame of his glasses sizzles slightly at two points where it has come in contact with the spit, however.
"M-maybe it doesn't hurt humans?" He voices his thoughts and moves to look around Cayde and at their opponents, who still just stare at them. "I- I will have to keep them in my... I need to be able to see them. If they don't understand what I'm saying verbally, I will have to--" Jon tries to offer as explanation and lets his eyes move from one invader to the other, gesturing vaguely before pointing at one of the larger members of the group.
"Tell me." He starts, this time actively focusing on making the unfamiliar being talk - Or at least willing to communicate. The crackling settles into a low, steady buzzing noise emitting from wires and electronic parts built into the ship around them. "Who are you? And why are you here?"
no subject
So, they went after them to catch up. And they just did, not far behind.
"What the quiznak?" Keith had never seen Jon's power in action... so... welp.
no subject
Casting a cautious glance back towards the strange creatures, the Exo eases back a little, enough to let Jon have a clear view of them. He tenses as Jon Speaks, addressing the other group, his optics flicking uneasily about at the sounds that seem to respond with the man's demands.
Across from them, the bearlike beings shift, growing more nervous as Jon singles one of them out. It snarls, and then begins to snuffle and snort, or at least that's what it sounds like at first. It...must be trying to talk? Maybe? There aren't really words to make out, just a lot of guttural noises barely heard above the crackle and hum of electricity. They've also got a definite splash zone, spittle flying every now and then with the creature's apparently frustrated response.
"Uuuh...you get any of that?" Cayde asks, looking even more uncertain. The footsteps coming up from the doorway they'd entered through have him looking over- as well as some of the creatures who've been seemingly held in thrall of Jon's power. The Exo holds a hand up towards Keith and Lance, a signal to forestall any attack- at least for the moment.
no subject
His attention returns fully to the creature Jon has picked out, the arrival of additional members of their group not quite registering with him. "...but he doesn't understand me. I will have to... G-give me a moment." He shakes his head once against a bit of fuzziness creeping into his vision, then narrows his eyes at his target and focuses. This is far from the way Jon has hoped for this to go and by no means ideal. Not with the strain it puts on himself - And his victim. Forcibly extracting knowledge and having knowledge pulled from one's mind... It's just not a pleasant experience for anyone involved.
The first thing Jon encounters when reaching in is confusion. A lot of it. And a nearly overwhelming lack of understanding. They don't know where they are, why they're here, why they're carrying weapons, who brought them there, what happened, who or what the Agrii are. There is nothing. They know NOTHING!
Gritting his teeth and clenching his hands into fists, Jon pushes deeper into the creature's mind, knowing full well that this will be painful for them both. Graq. That's what they identify themselves as. There's the memory of them being on what may be an actual planet and things were good there. Then there is the memory of them awaking on this ship, armed. And the resulting confusion about what happened.
Jon releases the Graq and fixates on the next, disregarding his own accelerating breath and the agitated tremors of his body. He can easily blame them on his frustration with how little he has been able to get from his first target. With his second victim, Jon moves straight past the clutter of confusion, lingers briefly with some fear he finds tied to this Graq witnessing what happened to its companion just moments ago.But aside from that, Jon is once more faced with a mind-numbing lack of knowledge, understanding and the most basic accumulation of simple fears and more memories of that unfamiliar planet.
It's with a snarl and a heated exhale that Jon moves to the next of the Graq, pushed forward by his own stubbornness to find something of use while ignoring the clear signs of exhaustion of his own body and mind - as well as potential objections the Graq might have to his approach.
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"Jon..." he says quietly, after the man has switched between the second to another. The other creatures clutch their weapons tighter, fear in their eyes as they can only look on as something seems to be happening to their comrades, and yet they can't understand just what, and the ones who've had their minds sifted through are left shaken and agitated by what's occurred.
"Jon."
The Exo sees the strain, the changes in the Archivist's own behavior as he proceeds, and while he doesn't raise his voice, Cayde's tone is firm, as is the hand that he extends to grasp the man's shoulder. He'd come to protect people, but the last thing he'd considered was the possibility of having to protect them from themselves.
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The room refuses to come into focus, but rather keeps spinning and twisting and attempting to take on shapes that don't exist. He can make out the shapes of people across the room, however. And if he squints, Jon believes he can identify these people.
Is that Cal over there, peeking out of those bushes? Those are bushes, right? Oh. And there are Tommy and Billy. And Cayde is there along with Catra, right next to Steve and- Tony? Why is he here? He doesn't look good, swaying and holding his head...
"...oh no-" Jon mutters, his voice absent and he reaches a hand forward before following that motion with unsteady steps away from Cayde and towards the aliens.
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The Exo isn't sure what to make of the Archivist's revelation, whatever that might be. He concludes that maybe Jon's realized he may have gone a bit too far, maybe wants to grab whatever pieces of this tense ceasefire still remain. Not exactly something Cayde considers advisable, especially given how the creatures begin to draw back with I uncertainty and fear, and some of the others begin to growl and look about ready to start hurling acid loogies again.
As Jon steps away from him, Cayde takes a step after him to pull him back. "Iii don't think that's a good idea buddy. Hey kids?" he adds in the direction of the others of their team. "I have no idea what just happened but I think we just made them upset. On your guard, disable only until we can get some things straight-"
He yelps as a goopy projectile flies past his head. "-and watch out for the acid spit!!"
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He screams. It's loud, it's terrified and the Archivist struggles with what strength he can muster to free himself and back away from this monster trying to keep him from his friends.
"L-Let me go! Let me go! Please! Let-- Don't! HELP!!" The last part is clearly shouted in the direction of the invaders as Jon has resumed trying to reach those he perceives as people he cares for. As it is, he remains entirely unaware that some of the Graq have taken up to spitting at them again. Which of course means that Jon makes no move to dodge whatever is fired at him, but currently being the loudest and most confusing person in the room is sure to make him an obvious target.
Not that his mind notices any of the shots hitting him with the room still busy turning itself into an inverted pretzel and back. Did Steve just spit at him?
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"What the hell- Jon! Snap out of it!" the Hunter shouts. He jerks to the side and ducks as more spit flies, and seeing Jon attracting most of the attention, he leaps at him to tackle the Archivist out of the way. He's still not sure what's going on but neither is he sold on that stuff being completely harmless to organic beings. Why else would they be spitting at them?
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In his mind, at least, he is running. But even in his mind he doesn't get far before the monster lunges after him and pushes him to the ground, resulting in further screams as it bears enormous teeth at him.
He pushes his hands frantically against the beast's throat - or what Jon presumes is its throat, which out of his mind much rather results in panicked slaps against Cayde's face. Tearing his eyes away from the monster, Jon does his best to fix his attention on one person. His probably last chance to frantically call for help.
"T-Tony- Tony! P-please help me!! Help! It's going to-- HELP! I-I'm sorry- Just-- Tony. Please!!"
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Slaps really don't do much to hurt a metal face, although it is kind of annoying, especially when Cayde's trying to do them both a favor. Or at least he thought he was. He turns his face away, mostly to try keeping Jon from making too sharp a smack against his beautiful, beautiful horn. Although he knows Jon's obviously not in his right mind, the panic, the imploring tone from the Archivist is painful to hear. He sighs, then bodily shoves Jon away from him as a fresh round of toxic spit comes hurtling towards them. The Exo can hear the material of his cloak sizzle as it starts to sport a new hole.
"All right, I'm gettin' kinda pissed off. Before, it was just gross, but now..."
He glances at Jon, and then at the bear-creature beings that have been gathering in full force for all the attention the Archivist's been drawing. "HEY!" he shouts, hauling himself up to his feet and raising his hand cannon towards the ceiling. As though some switch has been thrown, golden flames ignite and wreathe his body from the end of his boots to the tip of his gun, his normally blue optics glowing amber like liquid fire.
Normally this is where he'd start shooting, but he's at least given some consideration as to collateral damage, and he's not sure how well the inside of a ship would hold against the solar element of his Golden Gun. At this point he just wants people to shut up and stop doing stupid things. That's usually his job.
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And suddenly the monster behind him bursts into flames.
Jon freezes in his panic and turns his head to see as three more spit projectiles hit him, burning holes into his clothes and seeking into the skin beneath. But Jon doesn't register that. He's sure his heart has stopped entirely at the sight of the flaming terror about to end him.
A final shot of the acidic stuff hits the side of his head angrily and knocks the Archivist down onto his side. Jon hits the ground with a low thud and remains there, wide, desperate eyes staring at the cackling mass of giant limbs and flames as he grasps helplessly at anything to defend himself with. But there is nothing right there for his hands to get a hold of.
The desperate muttering doesn't cease. "...p-p-p-please.... please, Tony- p- please... help-"
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At least their target changes dramatically then. The strange creatures absolutely panic, their focus shifting away from the poor babbling Archivist as they start concentrating their attacks at the flaming Exo. Spit and weapons discharge, the former hissing upon contact with his fiery aura. It's much more obvious how unused to the weapons they hold are, not much by way of aiming although there's still definitely a risk of getting hit by their random fire.
And then even the weapons themselves fly as some of the bearlike creatures in their terror start hurling them in the Exo's direction, not that they're very aerodynamic. Some clatter near Jon, but maybe given everything else going through his mind, getting accidentally beaned by weapons is an improvement.
As much of a waste of a charge as it is, Cayde refrains from firing outright. Instead he charges, using his temporary advantage to get in close to the creatures. He feels the familiar, if unsettling hiccup of whatever connection the Light had been earlier disrupted, but by then the golden flames engulfing him have started to die out. Yet he keeps moving, swinging his hand cannon around to try knocking out flailing creatures with a smack to the back of their heads with its grip.
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It moves. Not at, but past him, as some semi-present part of his brain decides to point out.
He has to do something. Anything. He has to help!
But how. How can he help when his limbs are bolted to this floor of semi-solid cement? When his head got engulfed by a vacuum and his right arm is visiting different places?
Someone is shouting nearby...
Somehow he manages to turn onto his back. More or less, at least. His remaining hand flops away uselessly, fingers brushing against the cold material of discarded weapons.
Right. He can shoot. He has learned that - Shooting.
Without looking, Jon's fingers try to grasp the alien weapon, his mind limping somewhere behind when he somehow manages to pull the trigger, sending a blast of energy through the room.
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He hopes that if his earlier suggestions to just disable them hadn't been heard, that his actions would be noted by the others of their counterstrike team. Not that this is feeling very 'counter-y'. He can't tell if people have gotten hit by flying gobs or stray shots, but at the moment he's of the mind that it's better to take care of the main problem and deal with others, such as crazed Archivists, once there's less things being shot at him.
And then he gets hit from behind by a wild blast that burns across his side. It sends him stumbling into one of the other bear things, which in turn ends up getting sandwiched between the Exo and a tree before it slumps down. Cayde groans, looking down at his smoldering side, assessing whether it's done more than just singe his worn armor, deciding he's certainly taken a lot worse, and in the end it's better than getting melted.
He looks back to see which pugbear he's missed when he realizes who exactly had pulled the trigger. "JON! Quit helping!"
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