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dualislogs2020-02-21 02:57 am
be_notorious) wrote in dualislogs2020-02-21 02:57 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO: Drifter | OTA
WHAT: Translation | Heist Prep
WHERE: Tunnels and around Dualis
WHEN: Throughout Febuary
WARNINGS: Violent stuff may happen.
A.) I keep swingin' my hand through a swarm of bees 'cause I-
I want honey on my table
Tunnels - Open to Anyone
Dated to the Beginning of the Month
The Tunnels are one of the few places that people can visit where the Head can't reach. But that's the way it's always been, apparently. Seifer was the one to mention the 'symbols' first. But Drifter knew immediately a symbol is never just a symbol.
It's a warning.
It's a name.
It's a figure.
It's the most simple character.
Symbols are components to language, of story, and Drifter spends a good two weeks on and off dragging his ghost around figuring out what these meant. Words that the Head never meant for them to understand. But oh, he's figuring it out. Little by little, he's figuring it out. Part of Drifter wonders, the part that doesn't mind throwing out a little chaos, how the Head would react if he left a little message somewhere.
Not yet. But he's gonna keep it in mind.
The old Lightbearer shakes up a can of spray paint, looking over a set of different symbols. His ghost hovers beside him, looks to Drifter, and nods. The red-eyed drone, covered in the chopped parts of other ghosts, seemingly validating something. With the confirmation, he scrawls another IT CAN'T FOLLOW YOU.
He looks behind him at the other translations he's already put down. IT'S KILLING US and NOT THE GOODBYE I WANTED and various messages of rage strewn behind him.
A rattle of the can and he moves to the next. FIND A WAY OUT.
"I reckon we'll have to do that. You keep your little bastard eye out," Drifter comments as he scrawls it. The Ghost moves around, flaring its parts and rolling its eye out in exasperation. But sure. It'll do that. The warnings about leaving and not being followed have been the ones they've found the most down here.
B.) I'll rip and smash through the hornet's nest.
Do you understand I deserve the best?
Malakye Territory in North Dualis - Open to Anyone
Dated to the Middle of the Month
He swipes an ebook idly, as if he's reading, kicked back at an outdoor table with a big ol' pitcher of lemonade that's half-empty now, two empty plates and most of a mushroom burger left to go. The screen is partially transparent, something he can watch through. He's gotta dig a rat out of its nest of vermin. And right now he's watching a guy with a cybernetic eye implant cut some deal with a shop-keeper. Well, it's either cut a deal or make an offer that he 'can't refuse', as that old saying goes. It's a big obvious rig that covers a good quarter of the goon's face. A messenger with a set-up meant to play holograms, recordings from his boss. Someone trusted, 'cause you don't want that kind of detail getting into the wrong hands.
Like his.
If he can get at that thing, he can see what the guy's seen. But this is just Stage One, the bigger target's gonna be ahead.
Drifter needs information, and the man he heard has it is a fella by the name of Roman Ross. Prick used to work with the Malakye before he found a nice lady who met his liking. Now she's gone, and the top seat's gotta be getting shuffled, he probably went back. Apparently he's a pompous prick of the highest order, just the sorta guy that only the truly virtuous and idealistic would feel good in preserving.
Actually, the Malakye jumpin' on board when their boss went under? Head or no, Drifter's got a hard hatred against traitors. One of his best business associates (not a friend, not many of those) would pretty much not forgive Drifter if he didn't go hard on the matter. Well, if it was in the Spider's name, he could always claim having him in mind when he tells the story? Earn some discount brownie points, right? Hahaa.
Like a tall tale to Spider would ever help him cut a deal. Too bad he can't get him in here to fill a power vacuum, though. Better the House you know than the one you gotta trail.
WHAT: Translation | Heist Prep
WHERE: Tunnels and around Dualis
WHEN: Throughout Febuary
WARNINGS: Violent stuff may happen.
I want honey on my table
Tunnels - Open to Anyone
Dated to the Beginning of the Month
It's a warning.
It's a name.
It's a figure.
It's the most simple character.
Symbols are components to language, of story, and Drifter spends a good two weeks on and off dragging his ghost around figuring out what these meant. Words that the Head never meant for them to understand. But oh, he's figuring it out. Little by little, he's figuring it out. Part of Drifter wonders, the part that doesn't mind throwing out a little chaos, how the Head would react if he left a little message somewhere.
Not yet. But he's gonna keep it in mind.
The old Lightbearer shakes up a can of spray paint, looking over a set of different symbols. His ghost hovers beside him, looks to Drifter, and nods. The red-eyed drone, covered in the chopped parts of other ghosts, seemingly validating something. With the confirmation, he scrawls another IT CAN'T FOLLOW YOU.
He looks behind him at the other translations he's already put down. IT'S KILLING US and NOT THE GOODBYE I WANTED and various messages of rage strewn behind him.
A rattle of the can and he moves to the next. FIND A WAY OUT.
"I reckon we'll have to do that. You keep your little bastard eye out," Drifter comments as he scrawls it. The Ghost moves around, flaring its parts and rolling its eye out in exasperation. But sure. It'll do that. The warnings about leaving and not being followed have been the ones they've found the most down here.
Do you understand I deserve the best?
Malakye Territory in North Dualis - Open to Anyone
Dated to the Middle of the Month
Like his.
If he can get at that thing, he can see what the guy's seen. But this is just Stage One, the bigger target's gonna be ahead.
Drifter needs information, and the man he heard has it is a fella by the name of Roman Ross. Prick used to work with the Malakye before he found a nice lady who met his liking. Now she's gone, and the top seat's gotta be getting shuffled, he probably went back. Apparently he's a pompous prick of the highest order, just the sorta guy that only the truly virtuous and idealistic would feel good in preserving.
Actually, the Malakye jumpin' on board when their boss went under? Head or no, Drifter's got a hard hatred against traitors. One of his best business associates (not a friend, not many of those) would pretty much not forgive Drifter if he didn't go hard on the matter. Well, if it was in the Spider's name, he could always claim having him in mind when he tells the story? Earn some discount brownie points, right? Hahaa.
Like a tall tale to Spider would ever help him cut a deal. Too bad he can't get him in here to fill a power vacuum, though. Better the House you know than the one you gotta trail.
tunnels.
Care to investigate further?
no subject
Ghost highlights the incongruous symbol in red.
"Whatcha got there, bud." Drifter asks it. It turns and shakes its 'head'. A little bob from side to side. It doesn't know. But in red text it highlights an energy disruption, and a frequency with which it's being emitted.
"Alright," he mutters, putting his hand over the ghost and shooing it back (though it poofs into 'nothing') and Drifter crouches in front of the sigil to put his bare fingers on it. "What the hell are you?"
Time to look around the area.
no subject
“This is Zoradah Elsav recording,” she says, tone somber. “I do not expect to be alive for much longer, so I leave this as a record for anyone who finds this place after the last of us is dead. The great city Rumali has been devastated by a virus that was created by a highly advanced artificial intelligence. The Eiori people are nearly extinct - a once-thriving city that was home to millions has been reduced to a population of a mere few hundred, a number that diminishes by the hour.”
no subject
He stops and looks at the spray paint can a little incongruously, then at the wall like he's looking for the space to put all this. But his Ghost has appeared again, and with a little laser projection starts to burn the words into the wall- in English.
"Right," Drifter mutters, putting away the can and continuing to listen to the story.