((It will fall apart in usuable resources))
((I hope you guys don't mind if I go a bit slower than you are. Like maybe a day or two after you guys or even a week at most.))
((Since we are far, far away from one another you are not likely to meet me anyway for like months in game. So by the time people come even close to me I will have caught up. I am just too busy right now to rush as fast as you do. And if the need arises I will rush update to catch up with you.))
((This said, once I get things set up I will probably skip ahead my self since like I won't write about grunt work. Just the events that actually are of importance.))
((Also, here is a new post for you guys to show my commitment to catching up. Things are going to speed up now. I am on a roll.))
((This post comes with a PM to the GM. The GM should read the PM I sent him. Thank you.))
In a world far, far away there was a beautiful green forest. And within the beautiful green forest was a clearing with a clear shallow stream. By the stream was a thing of beauty a girl, and next to her on the ground an ancient machine and a weird young man poking it with a stick.
The robot was unresponsive, as often is the case with the long dead. But that hardly discouraged the young mans attempts at stirring it into action. Perhaps he thought it was only damaged or even sleeping. More likely thou he simply wanted to crack it open so he could see what made it tick. What ever it was, his attempts met with less than success as time after time the stick failed to find a joint. And than, just as it seemed hopeless, or at least hopeless enough that it seemed he needed help the stick found true and the machine opened with an audible squeal.
It was a sound like none before it, and one can only hope none ever again. Metal grinding against it self, eons without lubrication and centuries rust eroding away like a trillion finger nails scratching fervently at the blackboard of the mind. But for the young man this was nothing. In fact it was more than nothing, it was music. For as the cacophony of terror began and the machines chest slowly opened his eyes were filled with a childish gleam. For inside it were no wires, no electrics, only gears.
The hologram meanwhile just stood there silently, observing his every move with the interest only an engineer could have. She watched him as se struggled with the robot, she watched him poke at the machine and she watched him open it all without saying a single word. Perhaps she was surprised at what he was doing or why he was doing it. Or perhaps she was simply surprised that he had done it so quickly. But what ever it was she said and did nothing. Or rather, she did almost nothing she knew. For even thou she was just a machine, gears or perhaps circuitry passing impulses of energy through her to form thoughts her body did one thing she was not aware of. It smiled.
A small, shy smile covered her face as she looked down on what he was doing. And it was a smile that she did not even notice. More interestingly thou was that it was not him who brought it forth, nor was it the expert way he disassembled the machine. Rather, it was the care with which he was doing this. Each nut and bolt and each screw, each gear he removed, he handled them all with such care and reverence as if they were his own children. He observed each one carefully passing his fingers down their surface, examining each one in detail before returning them back to their place. It was at that moment she felt that she knew just why he had been chosen. For of all people in the world he and only he had really found his place. Here in this world, her world he was home.
((For those who are ready, day 2 has begun))
As the newly arivals had spend their first nights in the early hours of morning a loud bang and a blinding flash was seen only a few meters infront of them. As the blinding ended a crate was to be seen. It could not be hidden from sight even if someone would try it due the flashy colours.
((Inside you`ll find a wrench, bagpag, 10 day supply of basic food and a mapupgrade for your A.I, the map will be for your region only. And REDSHEILD? you are now on the land that once was mine))
A blinding beam of light shook her awake. Silver bolted up, head reeling, heart pounding, and collapsed, moaning in pain. Kuro was by her side in a flash.
“What . . . what happened?” she whispered.
Kuro frowned. “You don’t remember? The gods took you and destroyed your new gearoid. The drone with the junker. They said it was an abomination.” Because her eyes could begin to water, he hurriedly added, “But they left you a nice present.”
Silver smiled thinly. She washed up and ate breakfast mechanically. Her thoughts were on her dream.
“Kuro . . . Kuro . . . you’re here?” she murmured.
He grinned. “For you, Kimori-arc, I’m always here.”
One of her Fushides was acting up again. A puff of air hissed between Silver’s teeth as she repaired it. Suddenly paranoid, she glanced over her shoulder; although she knew the pseudo-Kuro was sorting through the crate, exclaiming things like, “Ooh, look at this bea-utiful wrench! And a map upgrade. Perfect! I’ve been needing one of these,” she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was watching her from the obon orchard.
Something—the wind, she decided—whispered in her ear. “Doctor . . . doctor . . . doctor . . .”
“Yes . . . a doctor,” she muttered to herself, setting to work. A new Fushide, one capable of repairing the others. Model Hoiiga. It resembled a car tire with many antennae stationed around like spokes.
The wind whispered in her ear again.
“Silver . . . Silver . . . it’s me . . . it’s Kuro . . .”
Silver yelped, interrupting Kuro’s recitations. Jumping from her seat, scattering metal pieces over the grass, ignoring the protests of the Fushide cyjinka, she broke into a sprint, headed for the orchard.
“Silver? Silver?” Kuro cried, teleporting after her. In a frenzy, Silver ripped the wristwatch from her arm, the voice, so tantalizingly similar to the real Kuro, fading out behind her.
She ran, her hat knocked from her head by branches, her shoes forgotten amongst the coppery leaves, her hair tangled with snarls and burrs, calling him.
Yet there came no answer but the whistling breeze.
Until she came at last to the center of the orchard.
She collapsed, crying his name.
I need you
I need you
I need you
On her knees, in the middle of the orchard, she wept, her tears pooling in her lap. Her sky darkened as storm clouds approached, relentless. They poured water on her in torrents, great cascades of liquid that drenched her and chilled her and put out the fire in her heart, leaving only ashes and cinders and burned-out hope. Her eyelids were closed, and she was cold, and her heart had long stopped beating, only her lips, vibrantly crimson against her pale flesh, faintly moving.
I need you
The fire consumed her, like it had her bear otter, like it had Kuro. The fire took her soul and wrenched it from her, and she screamed, and she sobbed, and she shrieked as the tempo of her heart raced ever higher.
He was dead.
He was dead.
He was dead.
“Are you blind? Cannot you see what you are doing to her?”
“She wants it. No. She needs it.”
“This isn’t cleansing her. This is killing her.”
“Then so be it. She must find the corpse.”
“She will have to find the four gearoids first.”
“She must find the corpse. It is our lives at stake. We needn’t care about hers.”
A flash of light instantly woke David up. He rose unsteadaly to his feet, blinded by the sudden contrast of dark and light. When his vision cleared he saw a strange, colorful box near him. Its design formed an almost perfect contrast with the rusted metal jusk around him. David was weary of it however, it seemed so out of place. He pressed a button on his STC and instantly crank was floating there in front of him. "Do you have any idea what the heck this box is?" A short delay followed before his reply. Davids best guess was that he was scanning the box. "It seems to be some sort of gift from the gods. I reccomend opening it, it could contain some valueable materials." "All right then." Cautously he opened the lid a crack. When nothing bad happened he took off the lid. He pulled out the first thing that caught his eye. "Hey look a backpack," he said, holding it up. He looked in it do examine it's contents "Hmmm... looks like there's a wrench and the rest is quite of few cans of stuff that might pass for food." Meanwhile crank was hovering near the box, seemingly drawn to it. "It looks like a manupgrade is also in this box. I won't know what it does until it's installed." David went to the box and found a small computer chip. When he examined his STC he found a slot that looked like would accpt the chip. He inserted the chip. A few seconds later a holographic map popped up. "Hey, this looks like the map of the area." After examining the map he found most of the area was the same as his, however there was a small grove of trees he didn't notice. He would have to explore the area later, because he saw that there was a large pile of new, usable material that his junker had processed during the night. By it was a small patch of bare dirt, and he could see his drone working on the far side. He lifted his backpack and started towards the metal, ready to begin making more gearoids.
Slick was busy again the next morning scavenging for food and scraps alike he needed parts for several more drones before he could attempt to start tinkering with a drone's functions. He wanted very badly to make the fragile drones able to defend themselves better.
((sorry its not much but its something, ill do something better later in the day if shadow allows me to tinker with the programming of my drones))
Arkan got up on the morning of the second day to survey his work. After his disastrous attempt to make a new SCT right from the off he had gotten down to serious business, separating the designs into 2 identical copies but with widely different purposes, the junker kept most of the functions of his attempt at a new design, the only alteration being a removal of a lot of the more complex mechanisms to allow for greater speed and a larger storage area, it could be determined from the drone by its jaws which where sharpened into a cutting point for detaching components from other things as opposed to the much blunter collecting scoop on the drone model, the drone had lost most of the strength of the junker and in return he had made better trapping systems so it could catch small animals for him to butcher, the powerful tow cable of the junker being replaced with the much lighter snare wires of the drone, it occurred to him that these nets would be of great use in a combat situation, something to work on later...
Arkan had spent most of the rest of the first day and the morning of the second assembling 2m drones and 3 junkers, the disastrous first attempt had resulted in catastrophe with the incompatible components of the junker and the drone combined pulling each other apart on a spray of gears and scythed limbs, after collecting what he could from the mess and pulling a sharpened claw from the workings of his hand he had set to work.
Now hours later he was finished winding the last of them up, his compulsion to refine their look with his detailed engravings and last minute adjustments to various mechanisms had cost him a lot of time but finally they were finished, the junkers were sent out to scour the wastes bar one and the drones were set to gather food from the immediate area, some of the surrounding plants and trees bore edible fruit and he had occasionally heard the rustle of a small animal, he trusted their programming would keep them on task until they wound down a few hours later, just long enough for him to begin his next task.
Constantine had mentioned other SCTs and how he could scan them from other Gearoids or receive them from somewhere, and one fact that did not escape Arkan was that he had made his home in a literal tomb of unknown Gearoids, with careful searching he could probably unearth something from within the massive hulk. Using the light from Constantine's hologram to light the way Arkan and the largest and sturdiest of the Junkers set out into the rusted hulk, searching the area in a standard grid pattern, room by room, deeper into the bowls of the downed Cog-beast. The junker followed closely, collecting usable materials and storing them as they went until they reached a darkened alcove where Arkan stopped to rest, that was his mistake.
From the darkness within the alcove an arm suddenly snapped out and latched on to his shoulder, he jumped back, fighting to stay in control just this side of panic as half a Gearoid lunged out of the darkness; it was one of the skeletal Gearoids, or at least one half, it had obviously been sliced in two but not close enough to its main spring, it must have lain in the dark damaged and inactive for the gods know how long and been activated when he approached somehow, all of this passed through Arkan's mind in the time it took for the Gearoid to shift its grip to his throat. The junker was unable to help; it was too wide to bring its pincers to bear in time, fortunately Arkan was quite literally able to take matters into his own hands as he noticed a second damaged section of the Gearoid: its neck had been struck a glancing blow at some point leaving the head hanging by a single bolt securing its driving gears. With a twist Arkan brought his left hand into play, his right held the arm of the Gearoid just far enough from his windpipe for his own hand to seize its neck.
With a simple twist and a wrrrreench Arkan ripped the Gearoids head off, it carried on moving for a few more awful seconds before it finally twisted its mainspring up inside and collapsed, Arkan lurched back and the junker dived on the remains, tearing it apart into scrap before collecting the pieces that were still usable. Arkan leaned down and picked up the skull in his silver hand, staring at it speculatively while he rubbed his aching throat.