#✧ ᴀʟᴏᴏғ ʙᴏᴜɴᴛʏ

[datarevived]

Cont. from ★ w/ @of-golden-guns

Nessus.

It was to be a patrol, safe from her most recent nightmare turmoil, the Taken. A step back in her ventures of stoawaying to the next undetermined destination, & more direct than her most recent voyage to Io with the brash Titan. This one had been advocated by none other than Hawthorne herself, something about scouts collecting data on the Vex and some sort of disclosure revolving around odd readings near the Grave.

However, her recent companion had been tasked with unrelated means near the outskirts of Mars, leaving she to mask with strangers who settled as a pair of three to take front. Both of which wasted no time leaving her between the fog - the sounds of the Vex transmatting in soon to follow.

She was not familiar with the Vex nor their strategies yet. Neither the Cabal, who also accompanied the planet in mass (though she knew not to what degree, as she had yet to make it beyond that of the ample Harpies & Hydras that drained her will at this point). All she knew is that she was quickly losing count to the times of Darkness, that her body was beginning to feel ill even after Data's recovery & that her mental fortitude was on a single thread to regretting choice words towards the Vanguard.

How ironic - that it is among them one she faces now. Recognizing the one from the Hanger instantly - immediate embarrassment & need to depart scratching like the claws that dug into her sleeve. Her breathing picks up in the moment, eyes darting anywhere but the concerned azure optics as she half debates running off.

" I -- "

Voice cracking in deciding tongue, the sudden touch takes her vulnerable focus to merit. A decision made for her, that she cannot back out now. The lump in her throat swelled as if wanting to still retort - but her body moves for her, forward -- following the Exo like a shadowed mutt to the camp.

You're foolish, she hears herself speak in the moments trending. The camp not too far from where she was found, a small light ignited beneath kindled fire & several other Guardians resting nearby. None to which looked at all familiar, but enough so for the time being, she felt... safer, if just a small bit than she did before. Her shoulders slumping in a relief among the pained expression that still wilted her face.

She takes a seat at the furthest available, bringing her half-padded leggings to her chest as she rests her chin upon scuffed knee. Quietly observing the camp with what energy remained, the motions & half-heard conversations; acting in avoidance with the one individual who was going out of their way until fully approached.

Weeks... how long had she been around, exactly?

" M'.. I don't.. " her words remain noncompliant, causing a small light to spark in her steed.

" Two months, almost. Though the first was uh... kept in the City, " the Ghost whirls, blinking in a sympathetic tone. " This past month has been heavily trial and error. But she does not adapt to change very well. "

[datarevived]

@vxidlight | Lorna

It is not an often sight to find the Hunter idling in the Tower these days. Between that of bittersweet & the looming tension in the air -- pyramidal shapes sailing on the horizon of their people. This would be a time found otherwise in the EDZ, neighboring Devrim's cathedral or an Eliksni's tattered ship. But she grounds herself here not willingly, but an obligation that would otherwise be argued by one wearing their heart on their sleeve.

A reminder of what she was -- what they stood for.

If Guardians didn't stick around near the City during its darkest times, what hope would those without Light have? What hope would those who did? The bleeding separation of glory & acceptance... & she found herself struggling to tell what side she leaned.

" Pssst. "

What would happen, she wondered, if they made it into the Traveler?

" Pssssssst. "

What it would look like... what it would feel like. Would they return?

" Earth to Seleneee. Your warranty is calling yooou~ "

" -- Huh? "

Star-gazed eyes blink in brief confusion, the Awoken tilting her head to the side out of habit though her companion hidden from view. Elbows resting upon the railings of the Tower neighboring a memorial to the last Guardian Games, as hands clasped around galaxy printed cheeks - the sky vastly more empty than the traditional view of a white sphere.

" Someone is staring at you. Mayhaps they're also finding something to distract them, " the Ghost's voice chirped internally.

" Eh? " risen brows gently turn, first to the left, then to the right - a means to not be suspicious, albeit curious. " Someone? "

[datarevived]

    " ...Scooks. Scrooks? Scoots. No, that isn't it... "

Her brow furrowed a moment, a hand raised to her chin as she tapped in the rhyhm to which she walked. The Awoken and its' Ghost wondering aimlessly throughout the deep end of the Cove.

    " ...Suroks? "

     " No.. wait, no... yes -- waitaminute, you remembered it this whole time!? " 

The exclamation coming off with a tint of exasperation, the Hunter tugged the edges of her hood in annoyance. The past five minutes of their travel, consisting of her struggling attempt at remedying ones' name, while it had been apparent of her Ghost and its' recorded timeline carrying mute details to the very core.

    " Remembering and logging are of two different capabilities. One that proves fact from opinion, " her Ghost rattled, a cheeky demeanor in its' choice of words. " For instance, it is fact that you were suppose to go participate in piloting exercises for worse case scenario. However, as you see - we are in no ship, nor are we ready for such emergency case. "

    " A class they'll have on standby again next week, " the Awoken whined, refusing to lose this one.  " It's not like it's a big deal... plus, we're visiting a friend. A buddy! a pal. Way more exciting than some two hours of piloting crash course. "

    " You do get that the point of the exercise is to not crash, right? "

    " And you get that there's way worse pilots out there than me, right? " Selene squints, pausing in her step to make emphasis of the situation. The Ghost having traveled just barely a foot ahead before stopping -- hovering in place with a stressed blink.

    " You know, just because you're a Guardian, doesn't mean you should procrastinate so much. Remember how long it took you to confront Zavala? "

    " Nobody likes confronting Zavala, " she scowled, dropping the weight of her rifle momentarily as shoulders limp. " Besides - that's not the point right now. Not procrastinating. Just -- changing the order of priorities. I'ma run outta room hording this stuff if we don't get rid of it anyway. "

The stuff in question, being that of a loose bag beneath her cape, filled with ransacked screws and cables. Stray materials she had come across in her adventurers before, including that of two battered pistols too far gone to reprise. A particular Eliksni who might've had better plans for the materials -- or not. Better for her to have hand-delivered the craftsmanship than the poor Fallen getting sniped digging in the dumpsters or front line.  

⌊ @michanikos ⌉ 

[datarevived]

It had been a couple months since her last visit to the EDZ in person. Perhaps even a few additional days since her last rendezvous. The forest in which the fallen ship lay, thickened over the rains and lack of trampling twigs -- making track through the trees easier than that of the ground unless provided proper openings.

It felt nice getting out for once.

Being on her own, surrounded by nothing but fresh air - it had felt like ages. The time spent worrying over recent turn of events, while that of other complications continued to grow. Valdourin had seemed interested in other measures for now, while Bex had been... not quite himself. A worry, surely. But even then, she desperately craved just a moment of silence. A moment to herself - shadowed without the bias of what was all going on with the Sol.

An unclouded opinion.

It's the muscle memory of a familiar comfort that leads her here, vines overgrown and wrapping themselves along the ship's wing as metal glints against the sun in the distance. A smile that can't help but peel itself in the corners of her lips, leaping from branch to soil, and then slowly creeping up in her dawned spot of greeting. 

The Hunter positions herself accordingly with careful footsteps - making as little noise possible to alarm or disturb who could be inside. Her perch, being that above the closed doorway as she sat upon the ship's rooftop, legs crossed and hands gripped to the ledge. She leans over, hair a flutter in her face as she knocks a soft but familiar rhythm - her own code to alert her well being before sitting back up and readying for answer.

[ @michanikos ]

[datarevived]

Another day, another patrol.

An endless cycle of self endurance and ever climb upon Devrim Kay's favorites' list, if she had to say so, herself. How many times the Hunter had returned in just this week alone, requesting any work she could get - she needed the glimmer, needed the time. Somewhere other spent than snooping on others' stories out in the Tower; eager to make her own journey and progress if it meant the filling title of being that of a Guardian.

It held a particular love and hate, this determination of hers. The hunger to make something useful of herself, verses that of the ever boredom that was minuscule fetch quest. To go grab this, and to go deliver that. This sighting has numerous, while this sighting has few. Seek them out for me, report them to me. To me, to me, to me.

   " You think 'Kay ever leaves that old moldy tower of his? " the Awoken voice cracks. A brief pep in her step as she and her companion traveled through a dense forest to the eastern quadrant, somewhere a few miles out from the walls of the city.

   " I don't recall seeing any nourishment there... " her Ghost hums, a sickle of doubt in his voice.  " Surely he goes back to the City at the end of the day. Doesn't he? "

   " Or maybe he just... ya'know... goes to the bathroom in one of those piles of rocks outside. "

  " That is both unsanitary and unsafe. "

A shrug -- the hunter keeping a particular eye out for any movement up ahead. This time, advising her own whereabouts, careful to not get mis-positioned like countless times before.

Todays' plan, being that of retrieving some stolen goods from one of the over sights near the EDZ. Grubbing Eliksni thieves who had taken one of the transponders from one of the miner locations. Whether it had been their natural instinct to steal, or perhaps an allure to all things shiny -- it always seemed one thing or another with said creatures. Only point and few that could ever be bargained with outside pulling a bullet to the skull.

⌊ @LimeNickelBulldog ⌉

[datarevived]

     It would come as no surprise -- that to each standing Vanguard, each profession in its' class, that of all the many Guardians the Traveler blessed, that such would manifest stereotypes that would define so strongly, the bulk of ones' anomaly.

To the Titans, it was their brawl and bronze: that nearly every Titan at their core was a feisty, go-get'em, endurance of the gods and mercy of the heavens.

To the Warlocks, their ease and wit: the ability to observe, analyze and react. Patience a virtue, though not always. But only when it was absolute necessary.

Then there were... the Hunters

Notorious for being the keys of expecting the unexpected. None excused by their Vanguard, a man known for his ample misadventurers, trials, errors, deals and no deals. Needless to say, there always seemed to be fewer Hunters with minds liable intact, than there were those who took life by the wing and demanded it jump to the stars. 

Even more so, leaving their base of operation -- the Hanger, always a... new thrill to witness. Never stray a dull day, should the boots of a Hunter return. This one in particular being that of Awoken, and already seemingly late to the party. Having just recently returned to the Tower from the EDZ, a means to report back to Cayde-6 that one of his stashes had been... unfortunate crossfire. It had seemed Selene arrived just moments late to another one of the Hunters' fiascoes -- this one belonging to a... not-so-very-Cayde Exo. 

A handful of people, gathered and in a volume she couldn't quite make out words to, it was so loud in cheer. Curious does it that she approaches the group like-minded, her shortness having needs to tip-toe against other Guardian's shoulders as she struggled her way by to see first-hand the commotion.

⌊ @kidemcnas ⌉

[datarevived]

     It wasn't every day in which Selene would find herself people-watching within the Tower, swaying away hours at a time be it either watching the buzzing streets beneath glower in life or idly over-listening to the conversations Guardians brought by during their breaks from patrol. But in theory, one could argue that it was very much most days -- the Awoken female frequently standing near a guard rail or sitting along one of the plentiful chairs or boxes, stare in a daze as she soaked in her surroundings. This momentous occasion being that of the latter, her legs dangling from the height of one of the cargo boxes that had been pushed aside for some time now. A great view above the rest of the tower, sitting upon the balcony that rested above Banshee's workshop and Rahool's cipher tent.

Clear skies painting the sharp metals and arms against the sun. The constant song of life played in merry, a unison between civilian, guardian and ghost. Even when all was said and done at the end of the day, a battle continuous against the darker odds - here at the Tower, everything just felt like home. Like family - even those who didn't know their first names. 

   They were all connected, whether by the Light or the Vanguard.

   And to most, that's all it took to assure comrades in arms.

A resting smile dawned upon ones' face, the Awoken stirs against her perch as another ship docks at the courtyard. An expensive looking ship, to say the least - would it belong to a single individual or a whole team, she wonders? Crystal-like irises settling in for the reveal, as feet are brought from their leverage and crossed in an indian-sat position as she grabbed at her ankles for support. 

Would it be a familiar face, or someone completely new? A Titan, Warlock or fellow Hunter? Maybe it was just full of new Sweeper-bots -- or, or, more found civilians to aide Hawthorne’s light-less guardians. A childish excitement of Guess Who bubbling in her chest now, none ready for any means of disappointment. She was committed to the mystery, at the edge of her seat now -- the ships’ bank cracking open in a searing steam.

Who’s it going to be --?

⌊ @destinyreclaimed liked for a starter! ⌉

[datarevived]

It's nice to see that the Vanguard can still offer services in such fragile times. Should you make yourself useful - go next door. Find the boy. He'll get you and the other Guardians to speed on... what Osiris has been hunting. These grueling Hive and their... poison.

The Tangled Shore.

A common-ground for both Eliksni and their corrupted brethren, the Scorn. If among all things Selene had learned in her short time of serving, that the Fallen here were far more... feral, than that of the EDZ.

She had served several times across the Shores - primarily during the rebellious times of the Vanguard hunters. While she always seemed two steps behind the rest, 'Rin and Bex keeping her hands tied and letting those blinded to hunt down the Baron's responsible, she still felt the need to play a part. And play a part she did - assisting the debt owed to the Shore's Law as information scattered the likeliness to hunt forward.

She knew Spider - not on common grounds, but simply as another Kell, in her eyes. An Eliksni who ran his own game, his own favors - but never not interested in a bargain. Especially when it involved keeping his reputation at the peaks, the Cabal and Hive forces still an invasive species to the Shore ever since the prison-break.

Yet this time - it seemed more connected to something beyond the Reef. Strange readings and recollections of Hive summoning, as directed by the Osiris, himself, after returning home to the City lightless. Something that had been brewing beneath the Spider's belt for some time, and now - ready to expand his network to ridding the nuisance once and for all.

It was just by unfortunate circumstance, that her company along the way would be a face she had yet to meet. Ones' existence who'd rattle more Guardians than it was worth - even her own. If only she had a clue.

The sliding doors to the Empty Tank rotated open at her approached step, the soft-tone beats of - was that banjo music? - strings playing across the mangled stereo system. Several broken chairs loitered the floor, strangely recent looking, with a fairly large Cabal body currently being removed from the scene. As a group of captains, clashing tanks of ether before downing them like a drunk in celebration. Indeed, it was a party.

Given that her time previous was more spent in Valdourin's ship, or taped knee to knee with Bex during their patrols, she had only heard rumors of Fallen club-scenes from Wyck and here-say sources. But to have finally stepped foot in one, after all this time...

Truly, it was a sight to be seen.

[ @sovereigncrow ]

[datarevived]

     " Oh, oh. I got one, " a voice nodded against the treeline, " If you could go anywhere in the solar system. Where would you go? "

It had been just about daybreak in the EDZ. The soft glows of setting sun glittering against freshly rained shrubbery, with drops of water reflecting against moving light like diamonds across a sea of sand.  Beneath the thick canopy, a view that was none less beautiful as it was dangerous, as gentle golds and orange from the skyline painted against the fresh grass that waved against a faint breeze. Puddles from recent shower sunk in the edges of the mud where grass had all but abandoned, as a nearby servo that had been recently put out of service earlier this week, sat in wait for the on-coming storm of those persuaded by greed.

A mission that had been requested by the Kay, himself. Something along the lines that the Fallen were appearing by the masses, causing trouble along the borders. But to what sort of Guardian would want to pick up something as boring as recon on a hunch? To sit and wait for the mouse to take the cheese.

     " Hmm... "

Perhaps it was her naivety to the trade. 

Icy gaze locked between the scope of her rifle, its' point rested in a field of view near the servo. A freshly earned cloak rested at her shoulders, its' hood thrown against her back to enjoy the faint caress of nature where she could get it. While it had not been her first take on approaching the front line as a Guardian, it had been her first outing ever since respectfully deeming the title of a Hunter. A rough climb, more so than she could have ever imagined. But the reward of being rightfully attuned to her gift and the Vanguard as a whole - it was by far her proudest achievement yet. 

And she'd waste no time in showing it.

     " I hear Mercury is quite the view. Well, was. "

The geometric-shaped voice hovered at the trunk of the tree in which its' Guardian sat, prying from a snipers' view as  they counted the hours on board. It's shell, deviated from its' original white and gray pallet, to something more personalized in color. Almost as if meant to match the darken hues of ones' cloak and boot, unison uniting the bond that was the Light and its' Traveler.

     " I'd go to... the Moon, " the Guardian answered, a tone of interest in her voice. Sheepish smile prying beneath the shade of the trees' as she pulled her eye from the scope and toward the Ghost. 

     " Of all places... the Moon? " it spoke, almost as if disappointed.

     " Yep! " the awoken laughed, tilting her head at the other, causing dark-violet locks to brush at her shoulders. " The first place I'm going to when I learn to pilot is the Moon. "

     " You're just wanting to go there because you want to prove yourself wrong that it isn't just made of cheese, " the Ghost grumbled, its' body waving back and forth with its' argumentative tone.

     " Nooo... Well... maybe. But not the point, " the Awoken waved a hand, letting the rifle drift in its' weight against her leg. " But come on. Who, born here on Earth, doesn't consider going to the Moon for their first field trip. Realistically, tell me. "

     " Oh, no. You've made your point. You and every other stubborn Hunter - you do really fit in with the match. "

     " I'll take that as a compliment, " the Guardian smirked, a dubious grin written across her face before returning her position toward the servo. A secondary look toward the Ghost as she stiffed another laugh, followed by driving an eye down the scope. A faint sign of movement in the back trees provoking her attention. " ...Four hours in, we finally got a bite, huh? " 

⌊ @michanikos liked for a starter story encounter! ⌉

[datarevived]

It was a more comfortable day within the tower today. A gentle cut breeze from approaching winter hues, as the crowds of Guardians diminished ever since the restoration of the great light above. Smells of the bazaar and the city beneath flowed freely, as metals and hard work bled from the hanger. 

Had it not been for the god-awful tension of that around it... it would have been quite a nice day.

     " I would have never thought there'd come a day where I wouldn't feel safe in the tower, " Data's voice emits from his space. Words that only Selene could hear, the Hunter standing near her old perch above the courtyard. 

     " Is it really that noticeable? "

A group of landing Guardians walk out of their ship beneath her, arm in arm as they laughed about some previous conversation before docking. Nothing out of the ordinary from what she could tell - yet the paranoia of such remained.

     " Perhaps not to all Guardians. But us Ghost... it's like looking through murky water. "

What was to be referenced, of course being that of Stasis. A gift brought by the Darkness, maddening spread across Guardians near and far whom walked upon Europa's surface and approached that of the Ziggurat. Something that was temporarily necessary, held together only by the strongest minds. Akin to the motto, ' fight fire with fire ', it seemed only few of the responding bodies were willing to give it up after having a taste.

As open as she was to the idea that the Darkness wasn't all that bad... it pained her to be on the same mindset as the Vanguard when it came to being terribly concerned with the outcome. The idea of one or two of the wrong people getting their hands on something so powerful... the next stories of Dredgen already swirling in the ink.

     " ...I wonder if Oz is okay. "      " From Ora's team? " Data questions.      " Mmm. "

A Guardian whom saw differently from the rest, she couldn't help but be relatively concerned. For everything that was so bright and limited, suddenly in a shadow. Not that she knew Oz on a personal level, but enough to well consider him a friend among the rest. How long had it been, since running into the team again...?

     " Speak of the devils, " Data chirps - this time, transmatting himself next to Selene. " Seems that Geist's signal just landed in the Hanger. Shall we pay them a visit? "

[ @destinyreclaimed ]

[datarevived]

    " You promise this'll work?! "     " What other options do we have? "     " We don't have options! "     " Well, there are one, two, three, four, five, six -- too many of them, and only one of you. Scrawny things -- no reason it shouldn't. "     " And you SWEAR you won't be blown up, too? "     " Oh, Heavens no, I'll be -- "     " You SWEAR you won't be blown up?! "     " Oh for lucks sake, just do it already -- "

The hissing noise of ones' own grenade in hand, its' purple energy radiated, ready to burst. The several shadow-esq entities, their clicks and their cries --  creatures she had never witnessed before, suddenly appeared by the swarm. Between both their numbers and volume -- so loud, so desperate. Backed into a corner of the Oasis, the Hunter could only muster one way out.

   Despite the action having only taken a second -- the time in between felt like eons. 

The sudden singe upon ones fingertips through her gloves, traveling at speeds like non-other up her arm and through her body. The void-like matter enveloping then erupting into a cosmic display of stars -- the deafening sound igniting an echo from against the wall she had been cornered, a cloud of dirt puffed to the sky and left with a trembling silence.

. . . . .

Not a scratch of evidence remained beneath the smoke - the grim-like projections retreating to once they came. A tiny light, now surveying through the mask of dust, a body found limp with its' right-side corroded in ash and void catalyst. A sight he had gotten use to over time, in the beginning being as shameful about it as the Awoken remained still. An inkling of guilt rattles its' gears as he scans over the remains of his Guardian, the body evaporating into a gentle light, replaced with the blinding essence of a phoenix as standing body returned to Io soil with a heavy breath.

    " Welcome back. "

Another promise made in their early days. The Ghost hovering closer to his charge, the woman having instantly revived in a panicked mess and shortness of breath. Eyes bitten wide in aftershock - her body completely well. Yet the flames seemed to ghost her body all the same, a temporary distortion that'd last for several minutes before willingness to move along.

    " A-Are they gone...? "

    " Without a trace, " the Ghost assures.

Though even that wasn't as comforting as it had meant to be. Creatures fallen without a corpse -- just as quickly as they came, now gone -- like shadows. She doesn't recall hearing about such an enemy before, and certainly had never run into such horror on the fields previous. What were they...? Who were they...?

⌊ @razorbeard ⌉

[datarevived]

[ non-verbal starters ]

thund-ere said: cry | wipe away their tears. (zhanna/ warlock)

It never did get easier. 

Not as quickly as she had been promised, anyway. The absence of permanent death and what it failed to carry, its’ meaning practically weightless to those who were known as Guardians. Time and time, she had to seal herself in idle thought, to force herself to move without compensating over thought. To believe that she was immortal by all standards except for one -- that so long as she was safe, Data would bring her back. Always.

Crucible, it had been mentioned to her several times before taking the step forward -- something to both hone her strengths and weaken her empathy towards something so out of date. Banter against other lightbearers in sport, it’d be fun. It’d be an effortless rinse and repeat. Something to numb ones’ senses.

Oh, how wrong they were.

How terribly, awfully wrong.

The Hunter whom had been standing on her second round of breath now, the echoing of bullets played off the walls of the arena. A replicated design of what was once known as Twilight -- eager champions and elders pacing through the fields with guns cocked and fingers upon trigger. She had made a mistake, coming here so soon. She wasn’t prepared, nor was she ready for the ghosting impacts of shotguns and rockets to be thrown in her direction. 

The most recent of implications, a sniper bullet that had penetrated straight through her chest in an immediate knock out. Data, as all Ghost did -- a rule of thumb that to shoot the Travelers’ Light would result in immediate prosecution and removal of the Vanguard, ressing her back to full form. Not a wound in site -- alas, a painful memory that made her want to vomit. 

It didn’t occur to her to simply request transmit out of the field -- that she could be removed at any moment she wished. No, such common sense was blurred by the shaken core that was her heart pumping a’thunder. Its’ pulse, bleating in her ears as she hurriedly rushed for any point of cover. to hide. Hands pressed tightly against her ears as knees buried at her chest -- making herself as small as possible beneath shade, waiting out the time for the match to be called.

All she wanted to do was leave.

She wanted to leave.

Such a prayer so loud, she didn’t even hear the footsteps that had approached. Instead, greeted by the coldness of shadow that stood above her -- tear stained eyes staring at the ground in panic, not even wanting to meet eye to eye to the next weapon that’d be her temporary grave. Get it over with. Please. Please just get it over with. She begs not with words, but the sheer violence of which her body vibrates against the steel she held her back to. Eyes then choosing to close tight, her hands pressed as far as they could to the sides of her skull. 

Would it hurt more, being so close up? Or would it be less painful than the ghosting sting in her chest currently?

Ever coursing thoughts as bullets continued to fire in the background. It isn’t until something soft brushes her cheek does she flinch -- holding her breath, one, two... before her nature overrides the pleading call, beckoning one eye open to document present action. Its’ shape, dawned in the robes similar to noted Warlocks, with hand pressed lightly at her cheek as thumb runs over a stream of tears. 

Perplexed motion coats the Hunter’s face in question, brows curved upward like a beaten child. Plenty she had heard over the comms not to deliver mercy... and yet, this one chose differently. Why? A rough swallow, shes unable to forge words -- fear struck against her own panic and surroundings. Instead, simply staring back at the blank helmet of the other, its’ grace holding a nurtured warmth in presence. 

[datarevived]

kidemcnas said: Wyck throws a snowball at Selene

It takes her by surprise -- the sudden impact thudding against her backside, causing an immediate jolt and rifle aimed down its’ sights. Her time on Europa, as vague and short-lived it had been so far, being nothing short of constant paranoia and itch. 

But at the realization of familiar ally -- it takes a solid moment for pensive expression to drop, sliding into a glint of relief, before lowering her weapon in a half-grin. 

     “ Man, are you a sight for sore eyes, “ she greets, bending down and cupping her own hands into the snow. Her ghost, Data, materializing in the reunion. “ Wyck, Pickle! What a relief! It’s nice to see you two well! “

[datarevived]

     " It'll hurt a lot less after you get use to it. "

   Use to it...

A stalled breath inhaled at the thought. Hazed view glossing over the newly acquired gloves gifted to her by another, as if still checking that everything was real.

Was it truly that simple an ideology?

The thought of throwing ones' life on a whim, exercising the heat of battle to to the fullest on a coin flip that you'd be revived in an instant. Something that, once upon a time, long ago in unwritten history, perhaps - would exist only in childrens' fairy-tales. An eternal life - granted in sheer bliss. Not a care in the world to stop you.

Even now,  barricaded in the safety of the City, the thought made her shudder. The gnawing anxiety trapped at the nape of her neck - was she over thinking, or was this the natural response? A persistent wish in asking any by-passing individual clout in readied arms, had her voice not still trapped at the grasp of emptiness. 

Perhaps the Traveler did mess up on this one, just this once... a first time for everything, they say.

Unknowingly to her own sense of direction, the Awoken had quickly found herself in the airship bay. A ball of twisted feelings and discomfort - arms pulled as closely to her chest in thought as physically possible. A high possibility that it had been the lights and sounds of ships and tools in the works that lead her here, subconsciously exploring what she could before she had been approached by another. This time, one she had yet been introduced.

An Exo, in fact.

Man-made-machine.

      " S-Sorry..! Am I not s-suppose to be in here? I can leave -- "

⌊ @acehuntd liked for a starter! ⌉

[datarevived]

It had seem that the snow was picking up again.

The frost-tip breeze of the Eventide sweeping against her mask as feet struggled to pick through the thickening white. Exploration across the tattered ruins of what use to be. Selene and her fireteam found themselves examining what looked to be a collapsed roof against some fodder equipment, taking the opportunity to shelter against the climbing storm as the Fallen scattered through the mist in works for Salvation.

They were told to merely observe - recon, as another six-man group traveled north towards the Riis-Reborn. Of several other teams watching their back for ambush, it had been Valdourin who offered them to take west wing. Another group that had been just a bit more forward, while several others laid hidden between the center and eastern yard.

To some degree -- it was... comforting, having someone who had their head on tight in between all of this mess, leading their course. The Titan had showed not a speck of indifference since their return from the Cosmosdrone. Zavala’s command, despite their difference, accepted as if just another bounty before leading the other two through the caverns. Selene could not say the same in her right headspace, the atmosphere of Europa seemingly drowning in voices.

Voices that seem to twist and pull with the air. In and out mummers of patient fingers that lived in the back of her head.

She wonders if they can hear them, too.

The voice so subtle, yet so gentle - it's words filled with poison and guise. Empty promises of a power she did not wield - but could she? It’s a temptress, trying to wrap claws around her will-power. And she will not let it do so so freely.

( @spacewrought )

[datarevived]

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