moonrepeat

[moonrepeat]

[dee? oh. yes, dee.] the voice hesitates again, anxiety bleeding through. [i wouldn't call them that, though. i'm not surprised they haven't mentioned me. we're not as close as we used to be.] there's a whooshing sound, as if the speaker is waving his hands about frantically. [because i don't work for the company anymore! sorry. should've opened with that.]

if the man on the other end of the comms is a liar, he's a spectacularly convincing one. there's a strained desperation in his voice; the sound of someone who has spent far too long in isolation, too long without hearing another person's voice. if only their window to communicate wasn't limited, he could have spent hours simply listening to the trooper talk. remembering how to have a conversation with someone who isn't imaginary.

[that's a lot of questions. err. look, we're both pressed for time. i'm sending you coordinates, if you'd rather speak face-to-face—or... or i can wait until you're planetside again before contacting you.] the stranger audibly fidgets, suddenly discomfited. [i'm jean. jean sauveterre. my family, we're from ghorman. maybe you've heard of the sauveterres? we make dyes?]

there's another beat of silence, before the voice asks almost shyly: [what's your name? you... you don't have to tell me your real one. just... anything would be nice, so i have something to call you.]

"En-oh?" He replies, confused. A beat passes. "You mean Dee? You know them?" His grip tightens on the shotgun as the implications dawn. "They never mentioned you." They didn't mention a lot of things, it seemed. Did they not remember this... voice? Did something happen between them?

Or was information being withheld from him deliberately, as a result of the droid's directives? Was it going to be a problem going forward? Tensions between them were already growing. He could practically feel himself reaching for the screwdriver—maybe a crowbar—to pry open that damn thing's rusty headcase. He'd pull out the droid processor, do some rewriting... maybe then it'd be a little more helpful, and a little less frustrating.

Fordo closes his eyes, the back of his helmet knocking against the wall. Now isn't the time to get vindictive. He needs to gather as much information as possible before he decides how to act on this.

"How are you immune? And how long do I have, before it starts targeting me—?" No. He's placing too much trust in a voice he'd heard for the first time less than a minute ago. He must be getting more desperate than he thought. "—Who are you? What's your name?"

[moonrepeat]

"oh, this?" they grab the jumbled mess of metal and cabling and shake it vigorously. something inside snaps loose and rattles around the casing. "it's a live explosive." pause. "heh. i'm just fuckin' with you. it's an old ship's core—either i'll repurpose it, or strip out its parts for recyclin'. stuff like this is always a valuable find."

they drop the core back in their lap, and return to matching each wire to the appropriate node with their wooden hand. they may act the fool, but they're not unobservant; they can tell the natralian is uncomfortable with their presence. "you're under no obligation t' stay and watch, y'know," they say good-naturedly. "you ain't the first i've met who don't like 'bots. i'm too old now to waste my energy holdin' it against ya."

@moonrepeat sent : "you’re distractin' me, y'know."

 ❝ i have that effect on . . . people. ❞ the somewhat stilted reply, usually said with an air of confidence, stems from the fact that he has no real clue how to refer to the being opposite him. were they wholly machine he would have kept his distance and avoided them all-together, but there is a life about them that eve's well tuned senses can pick up on, a vitality. from what his eyes can see, they appear largely mechanical. off-putting, to say the least, to his tastes.

best to keep his guard up, until he can discern more of their nature. he inches closer regardless, assessing their every movement before settling his gaze on their busy hands. ❝ what are you doing? ❞

[moonrepeat]

the creature hesitates before emerging from the shadows; gangly, branch-like limbs folding down gracelessly, catching on rags and rope as it hurriedly rearranges its garments. jean sits on the cool grass beside kalymjor, his knees tucked up to his body and too-long arms wrapped about them.

[thank you. umh...] he grasps at the amulet around his neck, fingering the metal hoop that connects the speaking-stone to the chain. [i don't want to be alone, but the others—it's not their fault, but they keep looking at me. i can't handle it anymore. i'm terrified that i'll catch someone's eye, and...]

he bows his head, burying his face against the back of his arms. his fronds rustle as they curl up and around his torso like a leafy shield. [i'm sorry,] he huffs. [i'm grateful that everyone lets me stay. i'm just worried i'm going to end up hurting someone.]

@moonrepeat sent : ❛ may i… stay with you tonight? ❜

 he turns his head to acknowledge the other, pale moonlight gleaming off silvered visor. for all his compounded centuries of existence, there were few creatures in it he could claim to have met similar to present company. he stands much taller than kalymjor's avatar, though his presence is far from frightening. well, not so for am empyrean. 

his vigil had been over ruins long since abandoned and slowly being reclaimed by nature. weeks he had stood, statuesque, as the forest around them did it's work, bringing divine serenity to the overgrown environs. though he doesn't move and his hands remained resting over the pommel of his blade, standing vertically before him, he smiles. 

❝ you're welcome to stay as long as you need. ❞ 

[moonrepeat]

@iconaclysm sent. 🐾 🕊️ 💢 for jean, ⛓️ 🧭 🎐 for dee :)

do animals like them instinctively?

nope, quite the opposite! rapax-folium are predators, and everything about their appearance and behavior triggers fight or flight in most other species. animals generally avoid him, unless they're confident enough to challenge a bracken.

when did they feel the safest?

jean has built several "nests" across facilities on vow, march and artifice; these nests are enclosed data-centers, usually in the ceiling or maintenance shafts, accessible only via a keycode. given that they offer full coverage of the surrounding areas, it's impossible to sneak up on jean while he's in one of his nests; thus, they're where he feels safest and are the closest thing he has to a home.

who have they never forgiven and never will?

himself. his present circumstances are the result of his own stupid decisions, no-one else's.

what does guilt feel like to them?

guilt chokes out their processes, like a virus with no source code. it suffocates their ability to think, to make rational decisions, until they break out of the loop. D-1N0 hates the feeling, but has no way of setting up preventative measures for something with no identifiable source. it doesn't help that their entire database is one big jumbled mess, either.

where would they go if they could disappear tomorrow?

there's an outlook on 21-offense they feel strangely drawn to whenever they visit; unbeknownst to them, it was where they shared a quiet, tender moment early in their relationship with their late partner, tomi. if they had to spend the rest of their life in a specific location, it would be there.

do they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace?

answered!

[moonrepeat]

@thrumadr sent. 🌪️🎐 (for both!)

what’s the one choice they regret (not) making?

for dee, it's the choices they didn't have the freedom to make. every crewmate they abandoned in order to successfully complete an assignment. every crewmate they killed with their own hands after they turned against the company and triggered their loyalty programming. they can force themself to forget, but erasing guilt isn't as simple as deleting a few lines of code.

for jean, it was a series of choices he made (and didn't make) during his late teens. these were pivotal choices, in which he veered into being a full-on criminal and integrating with the wrong crowds. looking back now, he wishes he'd taken the other, safer path available to him. it would've been less exciting, but he wouldn't have ended up enthralled to the company.

do they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace?

for dee, it's the sound of silence—or near silence; the world at rest, the hum and rattle of their ship idling, the chirp of manticoils foraging in the undergrowth, rain pattering against the roof. it's perhaps a stereotypical sound to associate with peace, but one they enjoy very earnestly. it's the sound of nothing going wrong, for once.

for jean, it's the memory of his mother's singing. he was an anxious child, and she would often soothe him by singing an old lullaby. he's since forgotten the words, but he will hum it to himself while he's working on his devices (which, to him, tinkering = relaxing). he also has an old radio that he'll listen to; the scratchy, jumpy audio isn't the best, but it's better than nothing.

[moonrepeat]

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.

[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?

[moonrepeat]

@iconaclysm sent. “ i doubt you're going to show me anything i don't already know. ”

it's almost comical just how quickly jean deflates, flinching back as if the words inflicted him physical discomfort. his gaze darts about the room before flickering up to the ceiling, focusing on anything but the person standing directly in front of him. humiliation renders him utterly silent; a stark contrast to his overly enthusiastic, rapid-fire speech from a moment earlier.

what was he thinking? here he is, trying to instruct a near-stranger on methods of optimizing long range multi-phasic data transfers, when he's kitted out in archaic tech from some backwater nebula. at best, he looks like a complete fraud. his grip unconsciously tightens on the transmitter he'd been presenting, and it's only when his claws begin to depress the unfinished plating does he jolt out of his trance.

[right. no. of course.] he mumbles, shuffling back to his cluttered corner with an apologetic bow. [you know more than i do. i'll... i'll just leave you to your business. err, sorry.]

[moonrepeat]

here at megacorporation, one of our core values is number go up. our other core value is rate at which number go up go up. these two core values guide us in our mission to exploit you as effectively as possible

[moonrepeat]

anonymous sent. Did Jean leave anyone behind when he joined the Company?

[my maman, my sister and her baby. my nephew. maman was so disappointed with me—she couldn't bear the thought of her precious boy turning to a life of crime.] the creature wilts, his fronds drooping. [i wonder what she'd think of me now all the time. if she'd be able to see her son inside this... this thing. i have to get back to her, somehow. to all of them. i'll figure out a way to make them see it's still me.]

[moonrepeat]

@arc-77 // continued

[wait! wait. five minutes. ok.] background noise echoes over the line; the rattle of something metallic rolling across a solid surface, likely a desk, followed by a strange rustling like the blades of dry grass rubbing together. [thank you. i'll try to keep it brief.]

[you can't leave the thistle nebula. you know that, but you don't know why. there's a... it's difficult to explain. i don't know how much en-oh has told you.] clearly the droid hasn't mentioned him at all, which comes as a mild surprise. [there's a creature at the center of it all. it gets inside your head, turns your thoughts inside out. it feeds on your memories until there's nothing left. i don't think it's fully noticed you yet, you're not an employee, but it will soon and then—]

a pause. there's another faint rustle, something like an exhale. the stranger is steadying his nerves. [i'm immune to its influence. i can plot a safe route out of the nebula,] he says, his urgency giving way to rehearsed confidence. [but i don't have a ship. we need each other.]

[moonrepeat]

anonymous sent. Does D1N0 and Jean know each other?

"goggles?" D-1N0 chuckles, fondness creeping into their tone. "yeah, i know that little creep—big creep, i s'ppose. he's too damn soft for his own good. if it weren't for his, ah, condition, i reckon he'd be six feet under by now." they rub their chin, metal fingers grazing over worn bone. "terrible liar, too. i know he's keepin' somethin' from me, but i've never been able t' force it outta him."

[i know en-oh.] monitors buzz and hum around the hulking shadow, a nest of cable and circuitry. [i know they killed their crew. i don't trust them, but they're the closest thing i have to a friend here. if i could just get my hands on their core... remove their loyalty protocols...] the shadow sways as he shakes his head. [no, no. i hate leaving it alone, but it's just too dangerous. i can't sacrifice my entire operation for just one person.]

[moonrepeat]

jean was in his twenties when he was taken by the company.... he shouldve been at the club.........

[moonrepeat]

#MOONREPEAT ━━━━ i'm rolling in my grave, feeling like a grenade.

EMPLOYEE FILE jean sauveterre had been an entrepreneur, an inventor with some of the highest potential out of the entire thistle nebula; but one too many poor choices had led him down a dark path in life, one that ended in his indefinite servitude to the company. he quickly became the technological know-how of his crew, jailbreaking their ship and equipment to increase their chances of success considerably. his overconfidence eventually led to disaster. after tampering with an inverse teleporter, jean opted to test the device personally—it malfunctioned spectacularly, transplanting his consciousness into the body of a rapax-folium. now free of the company's sinister influence, jean is determined to bring about the downfall of the monster at its core and unravel the mystery behind the disappearance of the "golden planet" and its denizens.

NAME Jean Sauveterre NICKNAME "Goggles" AGE 37 GENDER cis man PRONOUNS he / him HEIGHT 9ft (275cm) VOICE French accent; synthesized through his comms-collar

STRENGTHS extremely physically powerful. technological genius. can survive in harsh environments that are lethal to humans. inquisitive; doesn't like to leave questions unanswered. unwaveringly kind and helpful. FLAWS uncoordinated. often forgets how tall he is; it's not uncommon to witness him colliding with door frames. easily distracted. cannot tolerate direct eye contact. prone to instinctual bouts of territorial aggression. conspiracy theorist. TRAITS nervous, obsessive, impatient, resilient, loyal, excitable, compassionate.

GEAR jean hauls around a massive backpack (by human standards); full to bursting with all kinds of tools and spare parts. his most prized possession is his comms-collar, which allows him to translate his neurological impulses into synthesized speech; unfortunately, it also has the trade-off of exposing his thoughts if he's not careful about activating it. his goggles, from which he gets his nickname, are his own design; they shield his sensitive vision while in brightly lit areas and are an upgraded version of the base scanner.

[moonrepeat]

I pull up I start dropkicking anything that moves anything that even breathes

[moonrepeat]

anonymous sent. Is there a reason D1N0 wears clothes though they are a robot?

"i ain't walkin' around in front of strangers with my thing out." they're not going to elaborate on what they mean by thing. "just somethin' i picked up from bein' around humans my whole life, i s'ppose. didn't realize it was considered odd 'til someone pointed it out."

[moonrepeat]

mechanical keyboard users for dinner again?

[moonrepeat]

put that old man* in some SITUATIONS