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dualislogs2020-01-08 03:15 am
be_notorious) wrote in dualislogs2020-01-08 03:15 am
(no subject)
WHO: Drifter | Various
WHAT: Monthly Post
WHERE: Around Dualis and in the Swamp, More might be added
WHEN: January
WARNINGS: Probably violence and some food issues.
A.) IT'S NOT BRAIN SURGERY
CLOSED TO LORNA
DATED TO AFTER THIS
He's not happy to have learned what's in his head, and honestly? It's worth the risk. What if it kills him? He's got too many damn things in his head already. Does he want that big AI having access to any of 'em? Nah.
He's compared the Head to Rasputin before. Now, he puts a lotta stock into the endgoals of the warmind; more stock than he'd put into any real person. The thing wants to fight the darkness, and hell, it doesn't wanna get used by the Vanguard! Who wouldn't agree with that? And it reaches far and wide in its conflict, stretching its sattellite tipped fingers to the edges of their home system.
But the Warmind? When it decided to copy people, it was volunteers. People who donated their memories and way of thinking to create immortal warriors of a kind. Even there it one-upped the Head; when it saw it was losing the war, it let 'em all go to go do their own thing. Some of those 'exo's it made, robot copies? Became the greatest badasses that third rock from Sol had to offer.
But even then, catch Rasputin in a mood? Bust in on him where you're not wanted? And there's hell to pay. The Warmind stuffed some damn fool Iron Lords full of nanotech when they decided to breach one of his facilities and take weapons without asking. Personally, if you ask Drifter? Don't be a damn punk and think you're slick enough to fight a centuries old AI with a fist and an ax. Didn't work out too well for those Iron Lords.
Drifter doesn't much want to turn out like those poor fellas. Even if none of the voices in his head come along for the ride, even if his ghost refuses to get attached to some smartass just because it looks like him, he doesn't like the idea of his thoughts and memories just spilling out to where it doesn't belong. The moments he held little Yu through her dying breaths are just as much his as knowing how to access paralell universes. He doesn't want the Head to have either. He doesn't want the Head to puppet him to use that for himself.
So? How about a trial run he thinks. Rip that thing out, see if he comes back. Tell that pretty little thing with the shaved head if he makes it. See if she's willing to risk standing up to the pressure. Let his ghost scan some brains. That's the plan and it sounds good to him. Now to wait for his surgeon. On a rooftop. Best place to get a voluntary head injury.
B.) SWAMP MONSTER HUNTING
OTA
DATED EARLY IN THE MONTH
He'd heard about the swamp, but hadn't got to investigate much. Time for that to change. Out there were definitely parts he needed for additions to his weapons, and he was ready to go exploring and/or hunting.
He's back in his armor, big furry shoulder pads, leather(ish) chaps, thick belt with his hand cannon tucked into it and all. Somewhere between space traveller stereotype and old lone traveling warrior. Drifter's pretty good at wearing his business right upfront. He doesn't lie about what he is.
Can't be blamed for what people get themselves into.
Unfortunately, at the moment, getting themselves into something means they're gonna be marsh treading. And he needs the fangs off a man-eating swamp seal. Honestly, better than the alternatives. It could be gators. Could be boring, too, which is even worse. He's out in the swamp with a rented boat (that clerk, by the way, seemed keen on asking for insurance because he seemed to be pretty sure it wouldn't be coming back). There's some squishy ground to walk on, though, and he's abandoned the craft for the moment to travel that.
C.) SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
CLOSED TO NICK
DATED TO EARLY IN THE MONTH
He's been prepping and making weapons for the Heart for a couple of months now. And, to be honest, it isn't fair to the lady that's been kindly enough to introduce him to them that his focus has been mostly on them.
He shows up late at the bar, just when Nick's about to get off work, and slams his hands on the bar. This time wearing his Western fusion shtick, at least, not looking like a ratty space mechanic freak as he knows he damn well can.
"Come on, Darlin'. I wanna show you somethin'. No time like the present." And maybe he can tell her about the damn fool, if successful, thing that he did for himself.
D.) SO I HEARD THERE WAS A MAN WITH A FORGE
CLOSED TO SEIFER
DATED TO JUST AFTER NAPS
Drifter can generate his own heat and some minor transmatting. Honestly? Makes it a little easier to be a wanderer with his work. But generating ones own heat is exhausting. Work work work, all the time. It's drawining, and he has to wait a good ten, twenty minuted between big surges. He's about sick of that.
But, apparently, there's some fella with an actual forge out there. And Drifter? Needs a piece of that sweet action, thanks. He follows word of mouth in his own particular way (some shady deals, some strong-arming, some fair trades of 'useful' goods) until he finds the man and his forge.
He makes a pretty blatant show of not sneaking in. He just wants to be friends here, right? They got a lot they could do for one another. Who is ol' Drifter to pass up some alliances with potentially talented people. It could work out just fine for the both of 'em.
Trust.
But, he's gotta admit, this is a tad more mannequins than he's used to. Hell, last time he saw mannequins standing around in a deteriorating setting? They were target practice for Fallen. Spoilers: It didn't help 'em. He gets to the front door of the 'recycling center' and knocks... and thinks he hears a dog? Damn, now he doesn't even know if it's someone's pet or an actual person.
WHAT: Monthly Post
WHERE: Around Dualis and in the Swamp, More might be added
WHEN: January
WARNINGS: Probably violence and some food issues.
CLOSED TO LORNA
DATED TO AFTER THIS
He's compared the Head to Rasputin before. Now, he puts a lotta stock into the endgoals of the warmind; more stock than he'd put into any real person. The thing wants to fight the darkness, and hell, it doesn't wanna get used by the Vanguard! Who wouldn't agree with that? And it reaches far and wide in its conflict, stretching its sattellite tipped fingers to the edges of their home system.
But the Warmind? When it decided to copy people, it was volunteers. People who donated their memories and way of thinking to create immortal warriors of a kind. Even there it one-upped the Head; when it saw it was losing the war, it let 'em all go to go do their own thing. Some of those 'exo's it made, robot copies? Became the greatest badasses that third rock from Sol had to offer.
But even then, catch Rasputin in a mood? Bust in on him where you're not wanted? And there's hell to pay. The Warmind stuffed some damn fool Iron Lords full of nanotech when they decided to breach one of his facilities and take weapons without asking. Personally, if you ask Drifter? Don't be a damn punk and think you're slick enough to fight a centuries old AI with a fist and an ax. Didn't work out too well for those Iron Lords.
Drifter doesn't much want to turn out like those poor fellas. Even if none of the voices in his head come along for the ride, even if his ghost refuses to get attached to some smartass just because it looks like him, he doesn't like the idea of his thoughts and memories just spilling out to where it doesn't belong. The moments he held little Yu through her dying breaths are just as much his as knowing how to access paralell universes. He doesn't want the Head to have either. He doesn't want the Head to puppet him to use that for himself.
So? How about a trial run he thinks. Rip that thing out, see if he comes back. Tell that pretty little thing with the shaved head if he makes it. See if she's willing to risk standing up to the pressure. Let his ghost scan some brains. That's the plan and it sounds good to him. Now to wait for his surgeon. On a rooftop. Best place to get a voluntary head injury.
OTA
DATED EARLY IN THE MONTH
He's back in his armor, big furry shoulder pads, leather(ish) chaps, thick belt with his hand cannon tucked into it and all. Somewhere between space traveller stereotype and old lone traveling warrior. Drifter's pretty good at wearing his business right upfront. He doesn't lie about what he is.
Can't be blamed for what people get themselves into.
Unfortunately, at the moment, getting themselves into something means they're gonna be marsh treading. And he needs the fangs off a man-eating swamp seal. Honestly, better than the alternatives. It could be gators. Could be boring, too, which is even worse. He's out in the swamp with a rented boat (that clerk, by the way, seemed keen on asking for insurance because he seemed to be pretty sure it wouldn't be coming back). There's some squishy ground to walk on, though, and he's abandoned the craft for the moment to travel that.
CLOSED TO NICK
DATED TO EARLY IN THE MONTH
He shows up late at the bar, just when Nick's about to get off work, and slams his hands on the bar. This time wearing his Western fusion shtick, at least, not looking like a ratty space mechanic freak as he knows he damn well can.
"Come on, Darlin'. I wanna show you somethin'. No time like the present." And maybe he can tell her about the damn fool, if successful, thing that he did for himself.
CLOSED TO SEIFER
DATED TO JUST AFTER NAPS
But, apparently, there's some fella with an actual forge out there. And Drifter? Needs a piece of that sweet action, thanks. He follows word of mouth in his own particular way (some shady deals, some strong-arming, some fair trades of 'useful' goods) until he finds the man and his forge.
He makes a pretty blatant show of not sneaking in. He just wants to be friends here, right? They got a lot they could do for one another. Who is ol' Drifter to pass up some alliances with potentially talented people. It could work out just fine for the both of 'em.
Trust.
But, he's gotta admit, this is a tad more mannequins than he's used to. Hell, last time he saw mannequins standing around in a deteriorating setting? They were target practice for Fallen. Spoilers: It didn't help 'em. He gets to the front door of the 'recycling center' and knocks... and thinks he hears a dog? Damn, now he doesn't even know if it's someone's pet or an actual person.
no subject
—Oh god, what the hell was that?
HALF LIGHT [Heroic: Failure] — Θα πεθάνεις αν δεν φτάσεις στο πλοίο.
Something just slid against his leg, pressing up to the back of his knee. Something with weight.
HALF LIGHT — Run.
Fuck coolness, fuck composure, fuck trying to move through the water at a glide. Splish-splash he's hauling his ass back into the boat. If he lets out a low whimper as he grips the side to throw himself up and over, SO BE IT.
no subject
"Oh what the hell is that."
He dives off the tree and lands with a splash by the boat, pulling his pistol from his belt and aiming it. And through the trees comes one of the most idiotic cryptids he sure as hell ever ran into. And he's met Cabal. Ever seen a Cabal's mouth? Especially when they're eating? Yeah, you gotta make effort to be stranger than that.
What makes it's appearance, crashing through trees? A little larger than a car-humping elephant seal?
A big ol' bunyip.
"Welp, you still wanna play nice with this big boy?"
no subject
For a guy with so much red baked into his features, Harry's face goes awfully pale.
His second cryptid. Not as tall as the phasmid, no, but where the phasmid's limbs were thin, unfolding towards him like a paper crane, this guy's are bulbous, propelling it their way like it really is a beefy, angry man-eater. His right hand finds his pistol again, and he unholsters it this time, elbow locking in place.
...He's about to shoot a cryptid, isn't he?
INLAND EMPIRE — Wait! At least try reasoning with him, first!
His mouth opens, but all that comes out is a wavering, "AHHHH!" As far as screams go, it's pretty layered - one part fear, sure, but with levels of please stay away, I don't want to hurt you and oh no, I'm a hypocrite and I'm rather angry about that threaded in along side it. It also has the effect of an exhale. His arm is steadier than it has any right to be, therefore, and so he pulls the trigger like he actually means to stop the beast.
In some alternate universe, the RCM provides guns with enough power to punch through blubber and hit sinew and bone. In this one, Harry gets to watch his bullet disappear into a wall of flesh like he dropped a coin in wet cement.
no subject
Drifter abandons his usual cowardly persona to launch himself at the thing. Stealth be damned, it's here, and he wants that tooth. And he uses his arm to keep the monster from clamping down immediately.
His armor is good. It's only so good. The animal's teeth pierce right through, and the old immortal hollers and squirms to pry its mouth open, hanging on like he's wrangling a bronco right through the pain.
"Oh you little piece of lard filled swamp trash I'M GONNA GET THAT TOOTH!"
Even if he has to do it with it stuck in his armor.
no subject
He doesn't mean to yell it, but it's like the previous scream snapped whatever knob controls his volume, and now he's stuck like that. And it's a good question as far as he's concerned. The only clever bunch of nerves he can think to hit is an eye, and said creature's eye looks about the size of a centim coin.
It's a coin-operated mechanical bull, and it's bucking and it has Drifter's arm like it's intending on ripping the damn thing off.
Harry is absolutely panicking. He's a reasonably good shot — he hit both the cargo belt holding up Lely's bloated corpse, and later, his brother's cheek — but he's not won't-accidentally-brain-Drifter-if-he-swings-in-front-of-the-barrel good.
In the end, he settles for the nearest leg. The hand-canon jerks back in his hand, pain shooting up his damaged trapezius as the bullet... lands kinda-somewhat-near its target.
It's more its shoulder.
Or... well, its neck, if you're being pedantic.
Which, frankly, is way closer to Drifter than he's comfortable with, but at least that'll smart a little, right? It better smart, anyway, because he's down to his last bullet now, and unless Drifter can somehow pull off some real heroics from halfway inside a mouth?
Yeah, this is fucked. They're fucked.