combatdirective-blog

[combatdirective-blog]

atsuiseigi·:

The sight of her caused him to stop short in his wandering, staring with wide eyes, as if he forgot where he was entirely. Of course, after a moment, he realizes how rude this is, and snaps out of it, finally opening his mouth to speak.

“Are you a robot?” Is what ends up coming out, mouth moving faster than his brain. A wince momentarily crosses his face, realizing how stupid he probably looks. “What I mean, is, um, that’s really, really cool!” He knows he’s being embarrassing beyond belief. 

“Do you fight evil?” He says, forcing a confident grin on his face, as if this is any less embarrassing than anything else he’s said. The worst part is, he does think this isn’t cringey to ask.

@combatdirective

Its external sensors had dismissed the presence of the other as inconsequential; though Omega-F was aware of someone approaching, it was concerned primarily with its original objective: cataloging what it could of the mysterious hole at the center of the island.

The words of the youth beside it did not cease at the first silence Omega-F proffered, and at that it came to a decision to regard the child with piercing eyes, the apertures narrowing audibly.

“What intent does this volume of inquiries serve?”

[combatdirective-blog]

fordolaremlupis·:

What was with this woman? Fordola could have sworn that her movements were more machine than flesh. No, she was simply seeing things. Beyond that, she was quite nice to look at, though things of that nature were the very last thing on the soldier’s mind in this moment.

“Star?” Her nose crinkled as she made a face of disgust. This woman talked like one of those damned scholars who did nothing but talk of things that helped no one. “I know nothing about any stars. But if you mean we’re not on Hydaelyn, aye, I believe you’re right about that. Beyond that, you know as much as I do.”

Omega-F regarded the strange woman with a renewed intent for answers, though mostly stymied by the limitations upon its external sensors. It seemed this woman was of a belief that her lack of understanding excluded any use to Omega.

She would be wrong.

<blip> “Stars. Planets. Constructions of mineral and ore that orbit gaseous bodies.”

Even if none of these words, phrases made sense to Omega-F’s audience, they at least displayed a willingness to impart information. An indication of an exchange.

“It does not matter if you do not understand.

“You will tell me of what you have witnessed here. How long you have been.”

[combatdirective-blog]

techmaturgically·:

❧ @combatdirective

Orianna has never really considered venturing out to the island’s beaches; part of her worries that the sand might wind up in her mechanical joints and cause an unpleasant grating. Her enchantments protect her body from water and rusting, but she’s not so sure how other things might affect her.

Still, her curiosity gets the better of her worries, and she takes a careful trip down to the shore. The lady does notice one particularly peculiar-looking individual, standing very still and appearing deep in thought. Orianna watches them for a short while — they’re staring out over the ocean. She wonders if something is bothering them, and decides to ask.

❝ Hello, ❞ she says, in an attempt to get their attention. ❝ What are you thinking about, if you do not mind me asking? ❞

The ocean.

Such a thing shares a metaphorical connection with the outer reaches of the universe. Oceans of stars, as the observations, the adages commonly went. Omega has little in the way of idle curiosity, though having been limited in the manner it is now affords some different perspective on such things as geographical elements. What had once been a mere detail to note now stands as captor to Omega -- the bars lining its cage.

Yet there seemed to be a fascination held for the ocean by other life-forms, given the audience along the beach. Did these beings not harbor resentment? Displeasure? Why would such a limitation evoke joy?

Omega-F senses a presence beside her, and turns her head minutely, the apertures of her pupils expanding to observe. There is a similarity in their construction, Omega detects from a cursory analysis, one that lends some reason for it to countenance the request that has just been made of it.

<blip> “This ocean.

“It imprisons captives upon this island, yet it is loved.” 

[combatdirective-blog]

vulignis·:

     Ahri had done her time waiting out the fighting, watching as victims of her charms did her bidding until they themselves- the very creatures which had attacked her- fell to the ground as good as dust. She had little use for reliving the pain of her past, nor drowning in the guilt of her shortcomings. She was a fox, first and foremost, and always would be. She may learn, and she may grow, but her blood would never change. 

     A huntress at her core, she sensed a nearby crop of shamblers, and the wine and conversation from earlier had loosened the tenseness in her shoulders- made her move languid and easy, though not intoxicated. Another creature- one who held the appearance of a woman, but had no human heat signature- addressed her when she approached. Ahri offered but a curt nod, as her tails flared up and blue flames lit her surroundings, spinning as she shot forth an orb of aether at one monster, a second at another, a third at the next, until the most pertinent threats were at least subdued. The hunt felt good, that much had never so much as threatened to change.

     “A poor time to arrive in this city, but I know that is outside your control. I’ve no qualms with helping. Your signature is nonhuman… but interesting still.”

Not surprised -- Omega is never surprised -- by the other being’s swift dispatch of the enemy, it still finds itself recalibrating its expectations of strangers in this strange place. Subject in question displays an affinity with aether not uncommon to residents of Eorzea. Perhaps...

Its diagnostic functionality leaves much to be desired at present, however, tampered with as it had been in ways Omega is yet unable to fathom. The simple fact of its lacking in capability that should come as second nature lends a particular clipped manner to its speech, even despite its usual demeanor... is it irritated?

<blip> “Your awareness of my situation implies prior experience.”

Omega-F turns to the stranger, her synthetic hair wavering a little with the gesture.

“You are not endemic to this place.”

[combatdirective-blog]

@vulignis

It has been a comparatively simple task to evade and dodge the lunges of the shambling creatures, lacking as they were the intelligence to do much more than rush blindly at their intended target. As compared to conflict with the Warrior of Light, of course -- Omega's last conflict of note. Omega-F widens her stance, her heels clacking on the pavement as she maneuvers the metallic weight of her body -- before sensing something approaching to her side.

Only her head turns, the apertures of her “pupils” narrowing with a mechanical whirr as she observed the being before her, a being that was very much alive.

<blip> “You.”

“Are you possessed of the ability to defeat these creatures?”

[combatdirective-blog]

<blip>

The ritual embarked upon by the multitudes of life-forms upon the beach was observed passively, perhaps clinically by Omega, its form currently one recognizable as stereotypically female. Severely lacking in processing capability, the machine was limited to the processing speed and idiosyncrasy of a human brain; for this reason, it felt the verbal repetition of its observations to be of use, heedless of an audience.

“Such sentiments as held dear by humans -- love, grief, self-reflection -- appear a waste of time to a non-human observer.

<blip> Perhaps it is in these small moments that humans forge the connections that give them strength.”

It would continue to observe.

[combatdirective-blog]

fordolaremlupis·:

@combatdirective

Feeling helpless wasn’t something that sat well with Fordola. She had fought so hard for so many years to shove that feeling aside, and in an instant all of it was for naught. 

The last thing she remembered was fighting Ifrit in Zan'rak, and now she suddenly found herself in Gods only knew where. But that wasn’t what made her chest tighten; what shook her was suddenly finding her connection to the surrounding aether all but severed and her weapons were gone. All of this combined put her into a foul mood, if indeed it was possible for her mood to be more foul.

What struck her first was the noise of it all. It was a racket that would rouse Rhalgr himself, by her reckoning. One hand reached up to massage her temple as the incessant sounds of what she could only assume was more magitek machinery than she had seen even on a battlefield.

The woman looked up as she started to get used to the din, noticing what appeared to be a beautiful woman with ashen skin staring at her. As nice as she was to look at, the staring agitated her. Fordola was used to it, but right now it wasn’t something she wanted to deal with.

“Quit the Gods damned starin’. If you have somethin’ to say to me, say it!” Fordola snapped at the woman.

<blip>

Curious. The woman before Omega seemed to present traits alike to that creature that had seen to its previous defeat and subsequent elimination -- one Warrior of Light. An iron will <projected>, a temper <observed>, and a seeming --

Omega’s optical apertures narrowed with a muted whirr. No. Whatever similarities in physiology, this being did not possess what it had thought to witness. Not insofar as its powers of observation, woefully limited as they were, could indicate.

<blip>

“This star. Human, where is this place?”

[combatdirective-blog]