Futuristic 〘POLARIS.〙

[Remembrance]

Edris Inaros
Mentioning: Everyone but in particular, GrieveWriter Lucius Cypher Worthlessplebian NC3LADUS​

Commotion rocked the Exterior Platform as a group of Operators captured and summarily executed a Wormbus. Edris had noticed it on his tenth return to the platform, depositing his near-intact Carriers. Unlike others, Edris took the care to not damage the Carriers beyond physically disabling them. To be an Operator who delves deep into the unknown to scavenge, they must know how to recover an automaton as good as possible. Whether those amongst the platform were new or simply had no care for the value of automatons, it caused immense agitation within him. There was a woman who gained respect from Edris. With an almost automaton appearance, she disabled and inhibited the advance of multiple Carriers, as well as assisted in the recovery of the Wormbus. Edris was jealous of her God Program, it suited the situation well.

As the group split to recover the rest of the Wormbus', the turmoil that existed across the platform ceased. Their well-coordinated effort lit Edris' eyes, a fascination with how they had come together via one singular goal. The light of comradery died as Edris prepared to assist them. An emotion all too familiar with him hit his conscious. It would be wrong to call them comrades or to act as though they were. It was an insult to what had happened. His mind bounced between assisting the Operators to leaving them be. Teetering on the edge, both literally and mentally, he opted to take the option that most stood with his own values.

Leaping from the platform, Edris instinctually went for his communicator. Panic struck as his feet and arm went towards slowing his descent. His communicator had been misplaced. It was a small thing, hardly touched, rarely used, Edris could not be blamed for failing to bring it. At best, he'd have to yell. At worst, he'd have to tap into sign language. Signing for him was atypical; it amounted to mimicking actions and viciously pointing. Communication, even verbally, was never Edris' strong suit.

Moving towards the Wormbus, Edris scanned the area for the group who he had seen earlier. He could not discern whether they were actively mobile or simply biding time. Regardless of their movements, he would take action. Idleness could get an Operator hurt, or at worst, killed. Facing the left side of the Wormbus, Edris rested the Poison-Spitter unto his anchored arm. He had loaded it with a fléchette round, a large metal casing containing hundreds of inch-long fléchettes. Any other round would leave the insides splattered against the Polaris' exterior, if not utterly destroyed. A fléchette guaranteed disabling it with minor damage, though one may find themselves picking tiny metal sticks out of their teeth. Unless another auxiliary appears to lift the Wormbus unto the platform, this is the best Edris had to offer.

His shot rang out without warning, though masked by the sounds of brawlers and rushing winds. Edris could reload comfortably, his feet held enough grip on the Polaris that his other arm could freely move. He fired two more times, aiming at the lower half of the Wormbus' body. He assumed that was where they could find its main parts and thus the way to cleanly disable it. Even so, recovery of the Wormbus, if it was indeed disabled, would still be difficult. Recovery would have to be left to those who could handle its weight and the forces of gravity working against them.

He wished good luck to those of a superior strength, and to those willing to risk it all for a Wormbus buffet. Godspeed, he announced in his head, godspeed.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Hiberus Shaw, Phobos Itself
Interactions: Clockwork_Magic Mentions: BnemonicDevice GrieveWriter Lekiel and whoever else on the platform near the second wormbus.


Chain-link by chain-link, Shaw dragged the wormbus limb servos whining in protest against his strength. Ultimately futile, but tediously prolonging its harvest. Hiberus planted his feet firmly across the platform's edge, if the Phobos-wielder miscalculated the circumference, weight, or plainly made a mistake in his footing then he'd be sent tumbling down into the scurrying embrace of mechano-monsters. Neural fire burned his receptors, a message from his muscles firmly voicing their displeasure at the machinist's ploy to acquire an additional boon from this operation. The digitally constructed spear-chain gashed the skin beneath his gloves. The grayish-blue combat gloves with studding that left an unpleasant scar endured the shearing motion, but the flesh under them suffered as the friction peeled away skin. In comparison to how his muscles screamed terrible curses, the sensation of tearing dermis was nominal. As the reeling of this gargantuan cylinder of edible substance continued, a figure materialised in the corner of the hunter's midnight orbs. Shaw spared only a sidelong glance at the feminine form that residence beside him, her furtive voice touched the terror-inducer's spine with the chill. Not the chill of fear that he is so expertly accustomed with—all thanks to the sorcerous and torturous Apotheosis process—but serenading. At least that is how Shaw chose to interpret the prelim of interaction with her. Leaving no room for sound, not even grunts or gasps of exertion from him.

The figure unfurled limbs of metal, four in the ordinal directions. A rosé glow lapped at his eyeballs, stinging through the optical feeds of the mask. This energy emitted by the new arrival goaded the locomotion of the hunter's body. No longer, did they quailed at the force that they endured. Indeed, they were energised. Arms turned into hammering pistons, heart burned like a power core, and lungs siphoned and circled air. The hunter spun, turning his back on the hooked wormbus and faced the platform. The chains dug into his shoulders, threatening to buckle his clavicle and shoulder blade. The Float Jacket, lightweight armour as is, folded against the weight to avoid damage. However, GPOs do not suffer wounds as easily. Shaw's head snapped at attention to the operator next to him. His answer: the simplest of nods acknowledging her presence and gratitude for expediting the ordeal. Wasting no time, Shaw stomped on the platform, proceeding headlong into the centre. The monstrosity's scrambling feet probed the air vainly, it even stabbed a carrier by accident. Stomp by stomp, the wormbus was hoisted into the air more and more. Willpower flushed the knees of the hunter as he dragged this loathsome smotherer onto the platform. The mechanical creature's feelers grasped the platform, lacking higher intelligence, the creature instinctively scampered towards the structure. If it had any sense, it would recoil and leap back into the killzone. Shaw earned no exaltation yet, as the hunter relinquished his grip on the chain. From his slanted stance, Shaw curled into a ball before springing backwards into a somersault. Crashing into the bug with enough force to flatten his catch onto the surface. Once again, the horrific artisan river-oil rushing through his blood awoke with a low-pitch scream of digitization as Shaw constructed another implement. Several wells formed on the knuckles of his hands connected to a hexagonal dispenser of black metal on his bicep. From his knuckles billowed spindly threads of digital fibre, embedding themselves onto the platform on the left side then right side. A net of constricting string bound the wormbus, repeating its attempts to move ad nauseam only to be constricted further by the wire.

Now enwrapped in bondage of steel, a serrated glaive was produced from Shaw's wrist. Notably less extravagant than all the other creations up to this point. The glaive was released with robotic manners, lacking the emotive quality even further. It amputated the wormbus before shattering into a trillion pieces of digital dust. Another glaive sprang into being and another set of amputating extremities later, the wormbus was immobile. "You may kill this at your leisure," The hunter advised to no one in particular. Taking several, large steps back, the hunter's body finally relieved itself of duty and crashed him to his knees. Liquid poison flowed pained his muscles. Lungs discharging carbon dioxide and sucking in whatever air managed to be filtered through his mask. Darkness stalked. But the hunter persevered.

A crack of satisfaction flushed Shaw's countenance. Fortunately for him, the mask prevented any on-looker from seeing his grinning glare. From his kneeling position, Shaw surveyed those that helped him. The fanatical devotee, Elissa. The pink-haired siren who whispered motivation into his musculature. Nor, who with others swatted away the carriers with practiced prejudice. And he is almost certain that Tiphereth cheered him along the way.

The operator's form soon reknitted itself from sustained damage due to exertion. The hunter rose to his feet again as he treads a path to Solline. Once near the expert marksman, the hunter extended a finger directing her gaze to the limply struggling wormbus. "Another moment of rest, I shall return to the carnage. But this one is in need of slaying now." Said Shaw matter-of-factly. In truth, he did not care who would destroy this creature as long as someone did it before he recuperated.

 

[foresigh]

[Ethan Vogel]​

After finishing putting up the protective gear for GPOs, Ethan arrived at the mess of the battlefield it was. All around him, shots, metal, smoke, and debris were flying around. The most notable source of mayhem was a pretty known auxiliary around Polaris, Chomp, and causing a similar level of chaos was another auxiliary, this one was a girl with guns bigger than Ethan. Her name was Ignette, if he remembered correctly. And with those two, it was the doom for all those poor carriers. Reaping and tearing, the only thing the carriers fear was them. In contrast, by just looking over a bit to the left, a different kind of destruction was occurring, this one was much cleaner and controlled, with carriers being terminated by the swift and sharp attacks from Elissa Moss' hand... or tail. Ethan liked her style more, as he often uses parts from those automatons for his own projects and general repairs needed around the vessel.

Ethan felt overwhelmed, a lot was going on everywhere, but overall, everything seemed fine. With that calming him down, Ethan grabbed the controller from his backpack and read the coordinates from the last location his robot emitted. A blue light reflected over his glasses when the controller was turned on. A cartesian plane was displayed on the screen, and a single yellow dot, fairly close to his location, symbolized the place he needed to go. Taking a big breath, Ethan prepared himself to run towards the location he saw. He held his gun in his right hand and the controller in his left, this was still a dangerous zone, but, to be honest, the most dangerous part was the auxiliary duo being too reckless. After all, one of the wormbus was getting its trunk beaten, and the other one was trapped inside a homemade cage, about to be processed into a burger.

Without any more dilatation, Ethan started sprinting. Most of the carriers were taken care of already, so his way was mostly without interruption, beside a couple of shots he had to fire at some carriers running around. One of the few aspects of himself he could feel proud of was his aim, as he trained a lot to not be that useless during missions. Landing his bullets at the right spots, Ethan disabled the few automatons that crossed his road without damaging too much.

"Oh, there it is!" Ethan exclaimed as he finally found his bird bot lying on the floor. Both of its wings were detached, and the right one was broken into three pieces. The beak was missing and the body was smashed completely. Ethan kneeled, saved the controller again in his backpack, and grabbed whatever he could of the pieces. Trying to fix it was pretty much impossible, it would need to be reconstructed from 0, unless... "I guess I'll need to use that then". After taking two seconds to prepare himself, Ethan let his Apotheosis fluid flow through his veins to his hands, focusing on the object in his left hand. Quickly, the small robot began to twitch and rotate. Its broken pieces around the fool flew back to the robot, welding, and re-screwing itself. The parts that couldn't be found just grew back as if it was organic. "Ugh...- huh?" A look of confusion appeared over Ethan's face, as he expected a sharp pain to run through his arms like always, but, for some reason, it didn't happen. Just a mild sore sensation.

"*chrip* *chrip*" The sound coming from his robot made Ethan get back to his sense. The small automaton was once again moving and looking around, curious. It jumped out of his hand and flew around him, and then landed over his head. "*whistle* *chrip*"

"Hehe, I'm glad you're ok, little guy" Ethan let out a giggle. This was the reason why he felt this robot was special, the bird was his closest machine to archive a personality. He wasn't trying to create new Auxiliaries, not like that. His goal was to bring back those creatures that he read about as a kid, from the forgotten world. "I'll need to check your source code, just to make sure nothing is wrong, so let's get going". Was it weird of him to talk to his robot pet? Do normal people talk to their pets?

On his way back, Ethan noticed how most of the fight was over. He didn't contribute that much (Nothing at all, honestly), but he was glad everyone was fine and safe. He made his way back to the platform, where he saw other GPOs gathering. Hopefully, no drama was going on and everyone was getting along... to vary

Mentioning: GrieveWriter Clockwork_Magic BnemonicDevice Lucius Cypher NC3LADUS Spoiled Bread Lekiel

 

[Spoiled Bread]

IGNETTE
​

The carriers let out a mechanical screech in unison as an explosion threw them off the massive vessel, sending them back to the shell's surface to be crushed by gravity. Then several more got gutted by a circular saw that just fly around without anything seemingly controlled it. Despite her continous carnage of the carriers the girl on Max Liebe's display was currenly only thigh-deep in blood. Destroying carrier got boring after a while so the auxillary had been slowing down. She's currently trying to approach one of the wormbus for herself. She didn't care about the supposedly tasty flesh, she only wanted to blast something big.

An operator approached her. A large one, maybe the largest among the ones currently here. An imposing figure made of scrapped materials. Ignette had just been ressurected so she had no idea who this person was, though after dying and losing memories for hundreds of time she developed a habit to talk to anyone as if she knew them.

"YES! I AM HAVING FUN!!!" Ignettr unconsciously made cranked up her volume so her voice would be as loud as the auxillary next to her.

"CRUSHING THESE GUYS IS FUN" Ignette stomped on another carrier and telekinetically flung her saw to cut another one in two, just for fun demonstration.

"BUuutt... IT'S GETTING KINDA BORING!!" The girl on the display shifted her attention from the large auxillary to the still living carriers in the distance. From behind her back, she produced a cone-shaped speaker which she then put in front of her mouth.

"YOU HEAR THAT?! BORING! GO BACK AND CALL JORMUNGANDR! I WANT TO FIGHT THAT THING!" she yelled even louder than before, challenging the carriers as if they were capable of understanding her speech.

Lucius Cypher

 

[NC3LADUS]

Winona Merrell - mentioned/interacted with ; Clockwork_Magic ; GrieveWriter ; BnemonicDevice ; Lucius Cypher ; Worthlessplebian ; Remembrance


Tiphereth kept on about her weird villain ideologies, that's what Winnie called them anyway. Any time she had to work with her, a weird switch flipped in her and she ended up messing with those around. It wasn't something that Winona could deny, but having her next to her was reassuring. After all her own regeneration factor was garbage, and someone to hold you up was comforting. No matter how much she hated the boasting, she was useful. However, that wasn't her main focus. There was still Chomp racing towards the edge with one of the Wormbus to capture for easy access.

Her stance changed, so did her demeanour. From a slight amused smile under her mask and otherwise visible expression, her face lost the gentle look, taking on a concentrated outside. Stepping a little closer to the edge, her heel moved from the platform she gladly was about to create, yet with Tiphereth's note, the motivation was lost. Instead, with her nails gaining on glow from the Apotheosis fluid flowing through her, an expansion of the wall they stood on, probably about a foot in height at the top extended for a couple inches. An elegant movement of her hand was all it needed to expand. Slightly, Winona's brows furrowed though, pain shooting through her arm before she stopped herself, the clanging of metal beside her form distracting her. Was that the requested help? Hard to tell what she was feeling with how quickly the woman chanted in behaviour, her eyes and gestures being the only indicators for now.

The indicator now being and satisfied giggle with Carriers being piled up more and more. Still, unsure whether that was for her, a happy hum came through her communicator end, forgotten to turn it off. "Thank you so much, baby!" She cooed, losing the posture she held up the time before, waving to a masculine shape, boosting those carriers up. The jewellery she previously changed, melted into her hand with a motion of it, flinging it out towards one of the carriers despite not getting a proper confirmation. The elongated liquid steel connected to one of the destroyed automatons, swiftly retracting towards Winnie's struggling form at the weight she still experienced with the help too. Another happy giggle sounded as she easily, with no complications, peeled the steel back of the carrier, wrapping it around her hand like a sheet of plastic. Especially with Elissa's comment, her ego was boosted.

Ferrokinesis.

"Alright here we go." And with her command to herself, that same metal expanded, maybe tripled or quadrupled in size and melted around the extended edge. Grunting in displeasure and fear of impact, her movement to meld whatever she was doing seemed less calculated, less precise. Instead, the noise of metal crushing and bending, expanding and screeching, filled the top of the wall. It grew and glowed from the heat it produced due to the bending into... a cage-like structure. With Chomp speeding towards her and Tiph still going on about her evil plan and bullying the poor sniper, with the time that was left, an open cage, almost similar to branches of steel was made. Victoriously, Winona jumped out of the stance, reminiscent of a dance.
"There we g-" Lucky stuttered as shots rang through.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Bang bang.

Methodically like a clockwork, the legs fell off the Wormbus the mechanical operator barely brought into their vicinity. The jewelled operator stopped cheering. Head turning to Solline, the sniper she was happily willing to support, in disappointment and possibly a hint of bitter feelings. Did she really just destroy her Wormbus? Her idea? Of course it was cool to see that happen! Precision, beauty, and efficiency in one as that was taken out. The Wormbus was dead, no doubt. Except, so were some vessels in her brain, the smell of iron filling her mask. Ferrokinesis didn't come with nothing to pay with.

"What did I make this for then?" Ignoring the room, she asked, pointing towards the structure. Her weight on one leg, hand on her hip in an annoyed manner. "I specifically said I was going to trap it?" Once more the ginger Operator pried, tutting her tongue. Her voice quieted down after a while before rolling her eyes. "Whatever." Of course Tiph was picking on mentally weak operators, that's like her whole shtick. But did she have to ruin her entrance? Her health, even?
Neither did it help to see how another masked Operator pranced into the scene with a weakened Wormbus in tow. Similar to Tiph's villain monologue, that man went on about something, something edgy, in Winona's mind, rolling her eyes the third time this mission. Like some hero, he offered the kill and even if the chance to show off didn't persist anymore, the main jobs being done, or ruined by certain people, Winnie didn't want to be useless for that mission either.

In a dismissive manner, Lucky flicked her wrist, and from the ground, the top of the wall, a shimmering spike shot into the air. Precisely through the head of the automaton. That metal split in two rods, pinning the front part of the being to the wall. Another few of those spiked quickly grew from the wall with a couple more minor commands, to wrap around each leg of that thing, squeezing and pulling on it until more than half of it either ripped or broke, preserved in the grapple of the steel. Of course it damaged the inside, but it was dealt with. End of. And no other would get that pleasure. "There." She complained and maybe if one listened closer, there was a sulky undertone. Oh how she wished to be more able on the front lines.

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with: Tiphereth ( BnemonicDevice ), Ignette ( Spoiled Bread )​

---

There was a certain beauty in the efficiency of Ignette form and the destruction she caused. Unlke Chomp who needed to dedicate considerable planning and function to destroy vast swaths of carriers, the auto cannons on Ignette was able to rip through waves after waves with a sort of stoic grace juxtaposed to the screeching of it's psychotic Auxilary operator. Much like Chomp himself, where there was a contrast between his vicious and barbaric form to his contemplative mind, Ignette's pragmatic weapons platform was more suitable for someone who disgards frivolous decorations for pure, unadulterated firepower. Yet Ignette herself was far from the unfeeling war machine that Chomp himself believes to be, but someone who is quite open with her emotions in a way that could not be logically explained. Indeed, it was something that Chomp was fascinated with.

"YOUR TALENT IS WASTED ON THESE PEONS. LET US END THIS."

But he was brought out of his stupor by the sound of something pulling on his cord. He almost went to crush the creature when it spoke and revealed itself to be Tiphereth. Strange considering her powers would keep her from being able to actively participate in battle as well as make her vulnerable to attacks due to it's nature, but when she landed on his back Chomp realized why she did so. So long as Chomp could keep her safe, she could bolster his powers exponentially, thus taking care of both her safety and ensuring Chomp was at his strongest. Already the mechanical war machine could feel a surge in power unlike any he has before. This was his chance to test the full extent of his power. With his previous song long over, Chomp began a new one booming from his body's speakers.

"BRACE YOURSELF."

Once Tiphereth was secured on his body, Chomp released his grip on the side of the Polaris and allowed himself to decend down towards the horde. As he pass Ignette, he spat out black blades into the surface in front of her: while not as hard as her saw, these blades could rip and tear through the Carrier horde nonetheless, and now Ignette has more blades to play with. With that done Chomp continues towards the carriers, mindful not to get shot in the back by Ignette but not caring too much about getting caught in the various explosions from the destroyed machines. His durability, now coupled with Tiphereth's regeneration, was more than enough to withstand the damage.

Falling arms first into a carrier Chomp grabbed the machine and bite into its face, ripping it in half with his teeth. Like a voracious beast he ate the remains in a few bites as more Carriers swarmed Chomp. It was here that he drew his Butcher's Blades and sliced, diced, and slashed the machines. Unlike when he fought with claw and fang, Chomp's skill with his blades are far more refined. He had a bizzare combination of brutality and grace as his blades cleaved through the Carrier Swarm, occasionally being thrown to drag them to Chomp, or for Chomp to hurl a blade between the carriers to pull himself deeper into the horde. His axes struck with speed and precision, quite literally butchering the machines in such a fashion that they were killed cleanly. Robotic blood and gore fell and showered the behemoth and lady alike, soaking them both in brackish oil.

Chomp very intentionally moved deep behind Carrier lines so that he was utterly surrounded. He trusted Ignette to be more than able to clear a path back for him, and even if not these wastrels would not be able to do significant damage to him with Tiphereth's aid. More importantly, being so deep into the enemy line would allow him to unleash attacks that he ordinarily couldn't without risk of harming his allies. Here Chomp began to swing his axes by the chains, the blades burying deep into machines whole the chain caught and ripped through their bodies as if they were blades themselves. A whirlwind of blades tearing into the horde, but that wasn't even his best attack yet.

Biting into a carrier and lifting it over his head, he eats the remains and feels full. With his GP empowered Chomp looked doeards towards the carriers still coming and opened his mouth. Like a shell he unhinged his jaw and from the black abyss within his gaping maw as a bright light formed from within his body, and out came a pouring flood of molten metal. "WAAAAAAAAAGH!" This superheated slag struck the first carrier, melting through it's body and melting it's mass to turn into a cascade of liquid metal that grew and grew as gravity causes it to fall and absorb more Carriers into its bulk. Even from far above on Polaris surface, other would see the sea of fire pouring from Chomp's mouth, illuminating the area with chaos and destruction.

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions: NC3LADUS | GrieveWriter | foresigh
Mentions: Worthlessplebian ​

---

Solline just glanced at Winona when she went on her rant about her precious plan, of which Solline remembered very little about. I thought you were just gonna give me a vantage point, not make whatever the hell that thing is. She clicked her tongue. "Huh? I don't remember that... thing being part of your plan." She said looking at the structure Winona had made. "Job's done and that's all that matters." And it's not my fault you couldn't keep up, although I don't remember what happened. The masked man from earlier came up to her then came up to her and, in that same tone, said something about needing a moment of rest while someone kills the Wormbus he just brought up. Uhh...ok, weirdo.

Watching him go take his 'moment of rest,' Solline was about to head back towards the edge of the platform, letting someone else deal with the other Wormbus, when she heard someone approaching her fast. "Hmm?" She turned to look at the operator who rushed to over, who came to a screeching halt in front of her and Winona. It was another woman with magenta hair and a mechanical appendage, a Sife upon closer inspection from the tone of her skin. I mean, I am a sniper, it would be more embarrassing if I couldn't do something like th- Her train of thought while the Sife was complimenting her crashed when the operator all of a sudden threw her arms around Solline in a hug "W-Wha- H-hey, let go of me!!" The Sife operator eventually did, gave a could be described as a motivating speech, although Solline wasn't really paying attention. Gifts? And what the hell is a Crafter? Above all, Solline was most confused about the hug. She didn't even know the person and yet she hugged her out of no-where. Thinking about it more, she started being reminded of someone else, but that thought quickly evaporated as someone dealt with the Wormbus Shaw brought up.

The person that ended dealing with the other Wormbus happened to be Winona, although in Solline's eyes Winona's way of dealing with the Wormbus was that of an amateur at best. It was already weakened, you didn't have to damage the inside! Solline was tempted to go and give Winona a piece of her mind but ultimately decided it was gonna take more energy than it was worth, energy that, at the moment, she did not have did not have. Instead, she just sighed and walked over to the edge to see the absolute carnage the two Auxiliaries were wreaking on the remaining carriers. "Looks we're pretty much done here then..." She muttered to herself as she continued watching the two cut through the Carrier numbers. The extermination operation was more mentally and emotionally tiring than physically tiring for Solline, although she herself doesn't remember exactly what mentally wore her down in the first place. only coming to the conclusion that the Albino operator had something to do with it. Seeing as the Auxiliaries don't need any extra help, Solline walked away from the edge and back to where most of the other operators on the platform were. Geez, why am I so sweaty, I didn't even do much physically. I'll have to go home and clean myself up before grabbing a bite... and a drink. Roasted Wormbus with a Margarita sound good right about now.

As Solline was in the middle of thinking about her post-operation plans, she heard a series of unfamiliar, high pitched, yet controlled sounds coming from a certain direction. She looked over in the direction it was coming from and she saw an unfamiliar face, a face that was noticeably younger than every other person on the field. Is that... a kid? I don't remember seeing him anywhere during this entire operation. How the hell did he get out here? Solline heard the unfamiliar noises again, her gaze drifting upwards to the top of the kid's head where there was a little metal... thing sat there, staring at it in silent bewilderment.​

 

[BnemonicDevice]

scroll me!

TIPHERETH

Riding on the back of Chomp ( Lucius Cypher ), and going batshit crazy with him and Ignette ( Spoiled Bread )

Cleaning up remaining Wormbus with Auxillaries.

Catalyzing Chomp and Ignette's GPOs, half as effective as catalyzing one GPO user, with some of her regeneration factor inhibited.

Tiphereth's Headset Audio

The Albino girl nearly hyperventilates as she rides Chomp, giddy with excitement. Even if this was just a simple trash mob clean-up mission, this was one of the rare opportunities to see carnage and destruction firsthand. Whether she felt obliged to have a front row seat to the bloodbath for some milquetoast philosophy, or if deep down she wanted too fully delve into what her veteran patients see so that she may service them better, or if she is just some deranged, twisted fuck, masquerading as a philosopher to hide all the pain... it did not matter right now. All that mattered now was that she felt alive.

She squinted her eyes as the cacophony of battle overwhelmed her. The explosiveness of salvo after salvo being fired. The splatter of mechanical fluids and the whirring of the engines of war. The ripping and tearing of metal against flesh. Surrounded by the devastation caused by these two war machines ( Lucius Cypher & Spoiled Bread ) brought her nothing short of orgasmic bliss. The Albino girl had long since trained her ears to identify all the grueling sounds of battle. And as the say... if you can't ignore it, enjoy it.

She reached into her coat, pulling out her smartphone, and immediately popped in her earpods. Letting the soul of song give her the adrenaline rush she needs. She could feel the hulking mass of metal (she rode heating up. Feeling the heat reach her palms, her nerves reamed to her to take her hands off the fire. Nonetheless, always someone who's down for a good time, she begins to activate her God Program's actual talent. Even if it was inefficent, even if it led to some deadweight loss, the more raucus the battle symphony, the more that end justifies her masochistic means. Electricity sparked off her skin as the flow of apotheosis fluid hastened, as she tried extending out her ability to both of the auxiliaries fighting to their heart's content, excited to see what more can these death machines do.

"WAR! WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR? BWAHAHA!! INDUCTION, THEN DESTRUCTION. WHO WANTS TO DIE?!?"

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[foresigh]

[Ethan Vogel]
​

"Ok, what's 34x5?" Ethan said to the robot on his head while walking. After reconstructing the bird using his ability, Ethan used this walking time to run through some checks for the automaton, just to make sure the program was also reconstructed correctly.

"*chirp*" The robotic bird let out a slight sound as a response

"Right. Next Question: who's the current captain of Polaris?"

"*whistle*"

"Hmm... And who was before that one?"

"*whistle~*"

"I guess that's right, that person wasn't very likable." Ethan crossed his arms and put his right hand under his chin, thinking about what his robot just said. He didn't understand anything the bird was saying, he just liked to pretend he did.

With that interaction between man and machine, Ethan arrived at the platform where other GPOs were and was received by the sight of a dead and very mistreated wormbus lying over a pool of its own blood... or oil, depending on how you'd look at it, with no legs and a big metal spike going through its body. Do wormbus have insurance? Anyway. Beside the tortured automaton, was Winona, a woman known around Polaris for her open and loud personality. Not a bad thing, but such an extroverted person drained Ethan's social battery quickly. The next figure Ethan saw was a masked man in dark clothing, with an aura of seriousness, mystery, and strength. For some reason, Ethan thought that the man would use a machete wonderfully, but not in a million years he would've said that out loud in fear of being decapitated on Friday night.

"*chirp*" chirped the robot

"Yeah, I know, they all look scary for different reasons...." Ethan whispered to the bird. When Ethan tried to walk away from the place he was standing, he noticed a blonde woman giving him a concerned look. Oh no, did she just see him talking to the robot? "It-its not what- I don't actually understand him. I-I'm not... you know... ehm..." After an impressive demonstration of professional communication skills, Ethan just tried to look at the floor and walk away as fast as he could, but the robot over his head decided that it would be a great time to stretch its mechanical wings and flew away, circling around and then landing over the woman's shoulder.

"*whistle* *chirp*"

"Wait, no!" Ethan rushed to her and with care took grabbed the robot wrapping his hands around its body. "I knew something was broken," Ethan said with a sigh, looking at the bird. He directed his sight to the woman and bowed. "I-I am so sorry about t-that! Normally these things don't happen". He then released the bird from his grip and raised his arm to chest level at around 90°, the robot skipped and stood on his forearm. Ethan looked at the bird and he could swear he saw the machine laughing at him. While direct avoiding eye contact Ethan talked to the woman. "My name is Ethan, and again sorry about that. This is a robot I've made, but it seems like something is broken".

Mentions: Clockwork_Magic NC3LADUS Worthlessplebian

 

[Lekiel]

Amiela Aeterna, BRUNHILD 059

Emboldened by her ability amplifying aura, the Auxiliary Chomp made short work of the Wormbus, easily overpowering it to the top of the platform where it was summarily incapacitated and executed by the others on their impromptu team.

With that out of the way, she could focus more of her attention on the Operator with weapons of midnight blue. Ichor pulsed strongly in her veins as she felt a part of her consciousness extend outwards toward the warrior, a telltale hum reverberated throughout her body as it sought to resonate with the apotheosis fluids of her subject. Under her suit, she could feel a tingling shiver run over her skin. Resonance. The humming stopped, replaced by a surge of power that extended out from her being; coral pink mixing with midnight blue and harmonizing. The process was over in the blink of an eye and the resulting effects were seen faster still.

As one, Brunhild and Phobos dominated the automaton, while relatively less dangerous than most denizens of the Shell, it was still no easy feat considering its size. As they deposited it onto the platform, she glanced up at his visage only to catch the curt nod. An acknowledgement so simple but deliberate, yet it arrested the rose-haired woman. Something about his masked visage stabbed her with a feeling of dread, something that went beyond the aesthetics of his chosen mask, but the moment passed as the former moved to finish off their catch.

Her heart had been thumping in her chest. Amiela let out an imperceptible sigh, thankful for the visor that covered most of her features. Turning to survey the platform, she took stock of her fellow Operators in various states of demeanour. A handful were on the verge of a quarrel, while yet others were gleefully riding a rampage through the mass of carriers. A wry smile curled the corners of her lips. Talk about being overqualified for the task.

It was amusing really.

Mentions: Lucius Cypher Worthlessplebian

 

[Cresion Breezes]

POLARIS
CH.1.1 OUR DAYBREAK (2)
​

The sounds of mechanical skittering wen quieter and quieter, soon the scratching, banging, and contorting of metal began to cease as well, drowned out by the more causal chattering of the combatants that eagerly looked for more prey. The Carriers and Wormbus that were lured up to the top of Polaris have been exterminates, and those machines that remained at the bottom, hammering away at Polaris' residential sector walls were quickly put down by the excited bungee jumpers.

Piles of mechanical empty shells of the destroyed machines littered the platform, screws and scrap metal clinked and clattered as people kicked them along the dark metal flooring while they hurried around. The Wormbus in particular caught many operators' attention, as its ability to become a delicious meal usually generated much more enthusiasm about its retrieval and transportation.

Up upon the overseeing towers on the platform, logistics and mission control personnel monitored the signal emissions around the vessel closely. It would be bad if a larger more troublesome automaton suddenly emerges from the Shell, although most of the automatons that can crawl up to the very surface of the Planet were well documented, their approaching signals all identifiable if they every approach Polaris. It seems like today was a good day, as only small and medium signals appeared, and the disorganized although energetic mission group was taking care of things in their own chaotic way. It was lucky that a larger automaton didn't appear, like the Rebuilder or Passe-planer.

"Phew, that marks the most of them." A logistics operator took a deep breath while watching the incoming data. "Its nice that no large scales came this time, it's pretty messy down there, organizing a squad in this situation would be chaos."

"Huhhhhh- But the commander is here, shouldn't he be able to do it, right right?" A younger (or perhaps just younger looking and sounding) girl also in an logistics uniform stretched out at her desk and responded half heartedly as the number of hostile signals on her screens and holograms were dwindling down as well. She put up a beverage cup to her lips and added, "it's not like I want something bigger to happen, but he organizes everything doesn't he?"

Suddenly the shape of a person appeared on one of the screens, though it was just a standard entrance of auxiliary operators to appear in public devices. It was a calm looking man with book blue hair, he was in a different uniform than the other workers of the overseeing tower. "No need to call me commander here, I'm only the commander of caravan operations, and have no authority over local operations. Technically speaking I'm just a temporary worker right now." The auxiliary man shrugged, looking quite laid back as he spoke. "Now then, has the threshold for hostile signals has fallen within parameters yet? I'll have to announce the operation's conclusion soon." He sighed. "Public speaking really isn't my strong suit..."

---

[-Attention all combatants, hostile signals in immediate vicinity have been exterminated. The primary phase of the operation will now be concluding. Standard combatants should make preparations for return starting now, designated clean up and rear squads please begin post-operation safety checks.]

A few operators who just climbed back up looked around and began to holster their weapons or dust off their clothing, beginning to seem more relaxed or trying to dial back any ricocheting attacks.

[Logistics personnel and non-combatants, please wait until clearance from combatants and operation overseerers before beginning salvaging process. Thank you everyone for a successful sortie, please be on your guard until you are fully returned to the vessel!"]

The same announcer seems a little more relaxed and in tune with the task of making an announcement now, and so are most of the hard fighting operators on the platform. Despite it not being a difficult operation, being exposed to the elements of the surface world is still an imposing thing, and the warmth and high oxygen levels of the vessel began to seem like a luxury.

 

[Ehb]

Nor Clyde
Interactions: Open To Anyone

---

Seven different sauces.

SEVEN SAUCES.

Nor had practically every type of sauce available at the supply kiosk. Kechup. Crustacean. Soy Salt. Midly Acidic. Very Acidic. Toothpaste-like. and Cream of Rain. She had, at this point, partaken in practically every single type of sauce, but the only problem was that all the flavors by the end had mixed up so well she wasn't able to really taste anything. Sort of putting a minor damper on the pratical tower of fine Wormbus delicacies that were portioned to her were nonetheless extravagant - piping fresh and with a fine aroma.

This didn't stop her from enjoying the texture and juiciness though. The quality of the cuts and the freshness was divine. Quite a good meal indeed it was. As Nor expected, she wasn't able to finish off the rest. The take-home box of Wormbus leftovers filled an entire grocery bag. It's weight was worth several trips to the convenience kiosk - to the point she left her selection of sauces to the whims of those still eating away at their share of the tasty morsels. The crew at topside really did a good job of not wasting their harvest.

Today, Nor was among the first to set out though. She liked eating good, but becoming engorged would make it hard to move around tomorrow. Even with generous portioning, she felt like some of the take home bag in her hand was going to end up going to waste and thrown out by the end of it.

It was odd for Nor to be the first one out. She normally was happily in the center of things. But there was something that had been on her mind since that day's incursion.


Retirement is gonna bite my ass so you can't keep depending on me for plans.


...Why was that offhand comment by the old man sticking with her so stubbornly?

Leaning against the railings outside. The only thing between the line of buisnesses and a very long drop - the gun-and-sword wielder was finding herself pondering things.

The Old Hag wanted Nor to continue her legacy. Do the things that she wasn't able to do in her life. She's given Nor everything. The gear, the Training, and even the Genetic enhancements to have a higher potential ceiling that Sinnora Clyde had. But, Nor didn't care about any of that. That didn't have to be the life she would lead - becoming the ultimate Operator. There were already plenty of people vying for that 'honor'.

"So stupid. Fretting over something like this."

Nor's job was supposed be simple. Cut things. Stab things. Shoot things. Destroy things. Some of the others had some ideologues about not letting their kills go to waste - harvesting parts and all that - but Nor's specialty didn't have anything to do with that. All she had to do was destroy. The best plan for that... was to take threats out as quickly as possible. Nor didn't have to think hard. She didn't like thinking too hard unless it was related to anything she was reading or golf. Come to think of it, maybe it was a good idea to go golfing now to work off some of the calories? Maybe after stashing the literal mountain of Wormbus weighing down the plastic bag she was holding.

Behind her, at the doors of the establishment to well recommended for cooking this feast (and Nor could admit, a good recommendation at that), she could hear the doors clatter as some of the other patrons were heading out. Maybe feeling just a little lethargic from her meal, Nor lazily looked back to see who was heading outside.

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions: foresigh | Ehb | Open to interaction for characters hanging out in the Residential Sector​

---

What is that thing anyways? Solline thought to herself while continuing to stare at the little lump of metal on the kid's head when all of a sudden the chunk of metal took flight and landed on her shoulder. "Ah-" Now that it was on her shoulder, she could get a closer look at the thing. After another short while of staring at it up close, she managed to match the little robot's appearance to the description of a creature she's read of in her free time, which has long since gone extinct, only living on in literature. A bird? Huh, definitely different than I imagined them being more... organic. While Solline was staring at the robotic bird on her shoulder, the kid from earlier, who Solline forgot about because she was distracted by the robotic bird, rushed up to her and grabbed the bird off of her shoulder. Ah, right... there was the kid. "A robot huh?" She said in response to the kid's introduction. "The name's Solline. The robot bird's impressive and all but it isn't the best idea to come out here in the middle of an extermination op." Solline looked around at the two dead Wormbus, the pile of largely intact Carrier carcasses that the Sife operator and some other operator brought up to the platform, and just the overall state of the scene, all the while the sounds of the havoc being wreaked from below the platform seemed to be slowing down. Maybe "middle" wasn't the best term to use... "Well, not like it matters anyways..." She said in a quieter, but still audible, tone.

Just as she had said that, another announcement came over the intercom announcing the end of the operation. Finally. She exhaled as she took off her hood and eyewear, switching on the safety for Thanatos, ejecting the magazine and the bullet in the chamber afterwards, before walking away back into the Polaris. "Well, good luck, I guess, on your robot bird, Ethan." She said to the young inventor without slowing down her walking pace or even looking back at him.​

---

After the Battle​

Solline decided to take the long route back to her apartment this time, needing to run a few errands and luckily one of them happened to be near the area she entered the Polaris from the outside. "Hey old man," she said as she entered the workshop, "you got my order ready?" Solline doesn't go to equipment workshops that often, since she could maintain her weapons and equipment pretty well herself, however this was a special case. The old man manning the counter looked at her, staring for a few more seconds, most likely to remember who she was.

"Oh, it's you. Yea, yea, I got it right here." The man reached down under the counter and pulled out a box, opening it to reveal a communicator. "You know miss, it ain't easy to make something like this with all those specifications of yours." Narrowing her eyes, she glared at the man when he said this. "And it ain't easy fighting on a battlefield when your only method of communication with your team is yelling across the field hoping they hear you." She picked up the communicator. "If you want, for an extra fee, I can inst-" "I know how to do this myself, you know." I had all those parameters because I wanted it to be easy to install, you old fart. Solline sighed as she took Apollo out of one of her pouches and slipped the communicator right where her right ear would be when she would be wearing it, the communicator clicking into place. Well, at least you didn't fuck it up. She thought to herself as she wordlessly slipped Apollo back into her pouch and then turned to leave the workshop. "Please come again." She heard the shopkeep as she exited the door. After 2 delays? Yea right!

After a while of walking, she reached the area of the residential sector where her apartment was. Heading inside, she took her shoes off at the entrance, placed her weapons, spare mags, ammo, and other equipment on her table before practically throwing herself and face-planting onto her sofa. Solline didn't have that much furniture to speak of and as a result the living room was quite barren, other than the sofa, a small dining table with 4 chairs, with Solline using the excuse that it helps save money as justification. That op really took it out of me. She thought as she lie face down on the couch, almost falling asleep right there before her stomach growled. Right... it's been a while since I've had a big meal hasn't it. It's not often Solline gets hungry enough that her stomach growls, thanks to her high metabolic efficiency she gained after becoming a GPO, but when she does she usually eats her fill enough to last her quite a while before needing another major meal. Forcing herself up from the comfort of her couch, she headed to her bathroom to take a shower before heading out to eat.

As Solline was towel drying her hair after her shower, she looked through her closet for something to wear while her uniform from the day's op was in the washer. However, like her apartment furnishings, her closet lacked variety and was pretty empty, with 2 spare uniforms being the only things hanging on coat hangers in there. Reaching for one of the two spare uniforms, she grasped its coat hanger and was about to pull it off the rack when she spotted something in the corner of her closet: a pair of plastic bags which she had no memory of putting there. She let go of the coat hanger and peered inside one of the bags. Immediately, memories of a certain outing came flooding back to Solline and, combined with remembering the hug from the Sife woman earlier, a certain person. "Eimi..."​

---

1 Year Prior, A 4 bedroom home in the Residential Sector​

Solline heard knocking on the door to her bedroom. "Sis! Vesta said we're getting take out for dinner. You want anything?" "I'm not hungry." Solline responded while she sat at her desk, cleaning the various components of a disassembled Mercury. "Whaaat? Come on, sis!" "I said I'm not hungry!" The door to her room swung open, a girl with pink hair and a pastel outfit standing in the door way. "Come on, let's go ge-" The girl stopped mid-sentence as soon as she saw Solline. "You're still wearing that?! Do you have anything else in your closet other than that?!" "What are you talking about Eimi?" "That!" she exclaimed pointing at Solline. "You've always been wearing the same army get up every day since we got here! You need to need to spice up your wardrobe, Solli! That settles it, we're going shopping!" The girl rushed over to Solline and grabbed her wrist and immediately started pulling her toward the door. "Wa- Hey! Let go of me, Eimi! There's nothing wrong with my uniform! And you're wrinkling it!" "You really don't see anything wrong with it? Where's your sense of style, sis?" Eimi continued pulling. "I don't need one! Ugh... fine, fine! I'll come with you, just stop pulling!" Eimi then let go of Solline's wrist. "Was that so hard?" She said with a giggle. "Now, now, you two. We can go clothes shopping after we eat. Celeste said she knew of a place so we're going there." A woman with black hair, a section dyed red, approached the pair, with another girl with silver hair trailing close behind her. "It's a relatively new noodle place... I hope you guys like it..." The silver haired girl said, bashfully. Eimi giggled and threw her arms around Celeste. "If it's your recommendation it's gotta be good Cel!" "E-Eimi..." "What are we waiting for then, let's go!" The energetic girl exclaimed as she grabbed both Solline's and Celeste's wrists. "Ah!" "I said stop pulling!!!"

How much longer do I have to do this... Solline thought to herself while in the changing room, exhausted. For good part of the past hour, her sisters in her familial unit have been basically been treating her as a dress up doll, more or less handing random outfits to her to see what sticks. "Ves! Cel! How about this one?" "Ohhh, nice Eimi, this will look great on Solline!" "I agree, it would look nice on sister." What the hell did they pick out this time, it better not be another pastel outfit! Just then Eimi came into the room and basically shoved the clothes into her hands. Solline looked down at the outfit, dead eyed from all the previous outfits she had to wear, and sighed. The faster I put this on the faster I can go home. Was all she thought while she changed.

"You're so cute sis!!!" Was the first thing Solline heard the moment she came out of the changing room to show her sisters the outfit, shortly followed by a bear hug from Eimi who lunged at her the moment she saw the outfit. "It looks good on you, sister. You have a good eye, Eimi." "Well, after I drilled it into her head that pastel doesn't suit her like it does Eimi. But, you do look good in that Solline. I'll go ahead and buy that for you. Excuse me!" Vesta went off to call for a clerk all the while Eimi was giggling and clinging to Solline. "Eimi! Get off!" "Don't wanna~" "GET! OFF!"

Spoiler: Solline's Family Unit Sisters

A familial unit comprised of series that have all either lost their genetic siblings or are otherwise estranged from them.

Spoiler: Eimi

Race: Series
Age relative to Solline: 2 year younger
Personality: Energetic, happy-go-lucky, extremely extroverted
Original art by SunniArts

Spoiler: Celeste

Race: Series
Age relative to Solline: Roughly the same age
Personality: Shy, reserved, introverted

Spoiler: Vesta

Race: Series
Age relatie to Solline: 2 Years older
Personality: Relatively mature, responsible, stern yet forgiving

---

Present Day​

Does it really look that good on me? Solline wondered to herself as she looked at herself in the mirror, wearing the outfit Eimi had picked out for her a year prior. Well, I guess it won't hurt for a little change of pace. With that, Solline grabbed her apartment keys, taking Mercury with her just in case she needed to defend herself and putting it in one of her inside coat pockets, and headed out the front door.

Spoiler: Solline's Outfit

I wonder where I should eat. Solline thought to herself as she wandered through a commercial district. Her mind wandered to the noodle place she ate at with her sisters that day but ended up shaking the thought away. There's no way I can go back there, especially if they might be there too. Not after I... Shaking off the intrusive thought again, Solline ended up settling on a wormbus grill, one that was apparently known for the sauces at their supply kiosk. Holy shit, this is damn good! Whether it was simply the quality of the wormbus meat, the sauces, or the fact that Solline hadn't had wormbus meat in a long while, Solline didn't know nor care, the only thing she cared about was that her tastebuds were experiencing nirvana. After eating her fill, and even ordering some to go so that she wouldn't have to waste time cooking in the future, she exited the building and saw a familiar figure. That's... Nor, right? Normally Solline wouldn't be the social type, but it just so happened she was looking for some place to get a drink. She approached the girl. "Hey... Nor, was it? You know of any good places around here to get a drink?"​

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with: No one at the moment​

---

Soon after Chomp began his carnage, things became methodically straightforward. A good bulk of the hostiles had been destroyed now thanks to the efforts of the GPO's, and with Tiphereth's aid Chomp had very little to worry about retaliation. He continued his rampage with mechanically efficiency, eschewing his more drastic attacks with the simple act of crushing and throwing the carrier remains as they approached him, until eventually there was an announcement that the threat levels have subsided enough that the GPO's could withdraw. Indeed, there were so few active carriers now that Chomp would have to cut off his bungee cord just to chase them down. He took this as an indicator that the remaining carriers would not pose enough of a threat to warrant a full route, though he does clean up a bit against stragglers who were still within reach.

After clearing out what little resistance that remained, Chomp would return to the surface, dropping off Tiphereth and immediately heading back inside the Polaris. Despite his help with securing a Wormbus, Chomp had very little interest in partaking in it as he has more important business to attend to. Namely, dropping off parts and loot to his science team. As part of the clean up, Chomp made sure to secure extra bits of parts from the carriers that he could use, including voice modules, optical, or even just lengths of wiring. He even found a gas take that had some fuel in it, though nothing that he could use, it could be important to his science team.

The Science Team, formally the division of Robotics, researched and manufactured machines that could help Polaris while also researching the machine threat to determine things such as their weakness and origins. Chomp worked closely alongside them since much of their research and development directly lend to improving himself. Indeed, most of his current equipment was more or less reverse engineered by existing machines that Chomp had defeated in the past. But with the Science Team, Chomp can obtain upgrades more unique for him. As he entered the laboratory, it was busy with researchers and scientist going about their business. While things are safe here, it's always busy. Attacks like these, as minor as they are, provide valuable data to the Science Team to research and determine the activity of the machines and how to best deal with them. Chomp knew better than to bother the regular researchers as they focus on their work and went to drop off the loot and oversee the development of his latest weapon: The Impact Edge.

While not unusual for operators to use swords, as their strength enables them to cut through metal unlike what normal humans could do, larger and stronger machines are still highly resistant against bladed weapons and thus require precision, which can be difficult when fighting a thrashing, hostile robot trying to kill you. Indeed even Chomp is wary of fighting against greater machines as his weapons, while certainly capable, aren't up to snuff against a foe who is simply tougher than him and can afford to shrug off Chomp's claws and axes. Thus he commissioned the Impact Edge, utilizing a miniature rocket to increase the striking force of the blade. The weapon is quite heavy even for a GPO, but for someone like Chomp it's the perfect weight and balance. While not a swift blade by any means it's designed to be able to rip or smash armor without need for precision. And while oversized swords are usually the domain of the more savage and barbaric operators, the Impact Edge requires a calm mind and methodical timing due to how cumbersome it is.

So far progress on the Impact Edge has been going well and a prototype has been finished. It has gone through multiple trial stages and it's current form is not it's full power, but it should be functional. The science team would like Chomp to use the prototype on his next mission as a trial run so they can record the data and determine how to improve the model and eek out more power for it. Taking the prototype in his hands, it felt heavy, at least as heavy as a Wormbus. Stepping away from the others Chomp gave it a few swings with both hands, and even without using the rocket engine these swings were mighty, enough to cleave right through the armored target that the Science Team had set up for him. And with the rocket engaged, Chomp was able to cleave through ten targets in a single slash. That being said it's effectiveness against stationary objects is no indicator of how it will preform in the heat of battle.

"IT WILL DO. I HAVE DROPPED OFF THE PARTS. I WILL BRING THE IMPACT EDGE WITH ME ON MY NEXT OPERATION. GOOD DAY."


Afterwards Chomp visited a different part of his Science Team facility, specifically the one that oversees the repairs. Despite being a GPO, much of Chomp's body actually has very little to do with his own innate God Power, beyond using his Black Box as a power source. It was the reason for his extremely low regenerative ability: his body basically doesn't benefit from his GP, only his Black Box itself. His strength and durability was due to the Science Team who made sure to put Chomp into a very strong body, but like anything in this world it can be harmed and weakened over time. The scientist overseeing Chomp's repairs notes that the damage he sustained is overall quite minor considering everything he put himself through, but still go through the process of replacing anything that wasn't in perfect condition. They also topped up Chomp's missile with fuel. He fortunately didn't use much. They also made sure to inform Chomp about the stress he had put his chains through during the last battle. It's been a reoccurring issue ever since he had gotten them: while the chains have high tensile strength, they do less well when taking direct impact when stretched out. Chomp had inadvertently been damaging his chains with his maneuvering with the Wormbus, and had he fought against more intelligent enemies they could have exploited his weakness by attacking the chains, not only limiting his mobility but depraving Chomp of an essential weapon.

"NOTED. I WILL BE MORE CAREFUL NEXT TIME."

After some time, Chomp finishes receiving his repairs and heads out. He wasn't sure how long he was out. Keeping track of time was one of those things that Chomp was never good at. As he was leaving, one of the scientist rushes out after him. Turns out that Chomp forgot his communicator. The auxiliary was glad he lacked a face because he was slightly embarrassed. Chomp actually uses his communicator a lot, some would say too much. The whole reason it was with the Science Team was because Chomp had somehow managed to burn out his communicator's batteries through overuse. This new version was much sturdier overall, though it was also subsequently bulkier. No problem for Chomp though, he has plenty of space within to hold it. For a moment, Chomp's body knelt down and opened up it's core. At the center of Chomp's Black Box. A humble semi-sphere, locked into place with latches on a miniature body. Far less capable than his combat body, but at least able to move around and articulate. Attaching the communicator to a specialized stand that will keep the device charged, Chomp's body went back to functional form and he left the Science Team.

​

---

Deep inside the Polaris was the residential district. A cramped, highly populated part of the Polaris, where the life of the civilization lived. Here thousands of men, women, children, and adults lived and worked. The deadly battles of the operators being a blissful distance away from the populace so that they can continue to live and provide. Though life here was not perfect, people thrived instead of merely survived. Life here flourishes, allowing people simple pleasures in life. Pleasures that even someone like Chomp can only indulge in his rare spare time. Pleasures like music.

As the hulking behemoth walked through the Residential sector, people made sure to stay out of his way, pressing against the walls or finding a detour when they could. Chomp was by no means an unknown figure among the populace. In fact he's probably in the residential district more than he is in his own home in the Top Sector. There was a mix of fear and respect for him: As a GPO, most people of the Polaris obvious respect his duty. But as someone who constantly walks around looking like the sort of war machine that people are warned to avoid, Chomp naturally strikes fear into those who don't know him well. And yet despite that, Chomp has taken some measures to improve his public image, short of actually just not looking like a monstrous murder bot. One of those measures was being a frequent guest and patron of a large establishment known as the Cat Shack Saloon.

Business here was booming. Plenty of folks coming in ordering food and drinks. The band was even here, and Chomp arrived just in time for them to play his favorite song. It made Chomp feel... Nostalgic. Like he could remember things here. As he arrived a few heads turn in his direction, some curious, but most happy. Chomp was definitely a familiar face here, and his arrival generally being a good thing. He barely gets to his seat when a bubbly little lady arrived to his table. "Hello Chomp! Back from a job huh?" This person was named Cookie. A sife girl with cat-like features, or at least Chomp is told that she has features of a cat. He assumed it's the ears and tail. Despite her stature, she was a reliable worker at the Cat Shack Saloon, being the sole barmaid. She places a massive glass mug at Chomp's table. It's really more like a pot, given it's size, but it was just right for Chomp. "Here's a mug of Shell Citrus Soda, fresh and bubbly! So, how was it?" The auxiliary lifted the glass to his maw, daintily sipping from it to savor the taste. That sharp acidic texture on his tongue, the scent of citrus that popped from the carbonated water. It brought sparks to his eyes.

"INCONSEQUENTIAL. A VAST HORDE OF CARRIERS WITH A HANDFUL OF WORMBUS. NOTHING THAT I COULD NOT HANDLE. SPEAKING OF WHICH, I HAVE SOMETHING FOR LILIAM."

Chomp took out the bundle of machine bits that he had extracted from the carriers. Cookie was familiar with these things and made sure to deliver it to Liliam. Surprising even Chomp, said person was actually here, helping clean up tables. Liliam was an effeminate looking Series, with pale skin, long black hair, and greyish blue eyes. She seemed to be trying to keep her presence down but when Chomp looked at her, she stumbled over her own feet and nearly knocked over a table. Fortunately for her, Cookie was there to catch her and help her stay on her feet, sending her off to work on these parts. As more folks came in, a tall, dark-haired man walked onto stage. The leader of this little band who seemed to arrive just in time to speak to the crowd of customers and patrons. "Howdy all! My name is Mathias Asahi, and we're The Cowboyz. Thank you all for choosing the Cat Shack Saloon, and I hope you all enjoy the music and food. This next song is dedicated to our stalwart defenders, the GPO's!" Mathias said giving a knowing look at Chomp. He didn't like that. Chomp didn't care for the attention when it came to music. He's no musician and believes that people should be paying more attention to the band than to Chomp, but he doesn't say anything as Mathias begins singing the next song.

While not a personal favorite of Chomp's, he did like this song. And it likely contributes to why Mathias felt the need to direct some attention to him, since Chomp specifically helped Mathias find this song during his early days. Chomp's interest in music was based on Chomp's own difficulty in communicating his feelings. For most of his life he simply acted within what he felt were the parameters of his purpose. Do the job, and you do well in life. But ever since Chomp started interacting with the people of Polaris, Chomp has always felt... Lonely. Perhaps one of his reasons for frequenting the Cat Shack Saloon so much was just to have the company of people around, even if he doesn't really interact with anyone. For a good while, Chomp received mostly silent scorn. Here stood a machine, the very thing that everyone had been fighting. Even though he was an Auxiliary and not a rogue AI, people still assumed the worse because he never shed his armor. It was strange to him, how they judged him for how he looked. Deep down, despite how stoic Chomp acted, he wanted nothing more than to be wanted by others. To be helpful. And it was thanks to Mathias that Chomp was able to put these feelings into words through this song. Even if it wasn't an original song, it spoke to Chomp. And it made Chomp feel less lonely, knowing that in the past, someone had these exact feelings. It was familiar.

Chomp was deep in thought sipping his drink when there was a small knock at his table. There was a family of three, two men and a young boy. They just wanted to stop by and show their appreciation for Chomp, having brought the Big Feast Happy Meal. Chomp then turned his gaze towards the bartender. Mathias's father, skinnier yet somehow still youthful, dressed in a sharp suit. This man was Ryo Asahi, owner and proprietor of the Cat Shack Saloon. Not as sentimental as his son, Ryo recognized the benefits of having the support of a GPO at his business, but also knew that Chomp was a logical and practical person. If he just gave things to Chomp, Chomp would never give anything back, since as far as Chomp knew gifts are meant to be free. So Ryo arranged a sort of business proposition: he'll keep Chomp filled with his favorite citrus sodas, as well as an open seat at his saloon, so long as Chomp is willing to help the Saloon business wise. This was also why Chomp brings back materials for Liliam to work with, and why the Big Feast Happy Meal exist.

"THANK YOU FOR THIS MEAL."

As part of the shop's gimmick, people could buy scrap metal to feed Chomp. He was presented with a large platter with assorted metal on it, which Chomp easily consumed in a single bite. This simple acted impressed the young boy, who has never seen someone eat metal so easily and efficiently. The boy then gave Chomp a sheet of paper. On it was a childish drawing of another GPO. And a moment later, Chomp raised his hand to his mouth and produced a small metal object. It was toy replica of said GPO, with opposable limbs and even weapons as accessories. Chomp gave the toy away to the boy, and his family thanked Chomp before walking away. There was a small line with more families who wanted to give Chomp a Big Feast Happy Meal. And while his face lacked the ability to show it, it made Chomp happy to have this purpose.

"ONE AT A TIME. PLEASE HAVE YOUR DRAWINGS READY. IF YOU DO NOT YOU MAY USE MY TABLE. BUT PLEASE WAIT YOUR TURN."

 

[Spoiled Bread]

Ignette​

Ignette floated back onto the platform as soon as she heard the announcement. Her digital adrenaline slowly fade from her digital vein and once the thrill ended, she felts rather... empty. Like she had no reason to exist anymore, definitely not a pleasant feeling.

"Tch." Resting Max Liebe in the elevator shaft, the auxillary let go of the body as she transformed back into its purely virtual form. All the display on the war machine gradually fade away. The maintenance crew would take Max Liebe back to the station for repair. The moment she reached the top level inside the Polaris, she noticed a particular someone already waiting for her with a mini computer on his hand. If she still had her display on she would roll the eyes of her avatar right now.

 That someone was Dr. Farron, or, as Ignette called him, Dr. Franclone. A clone of Dr. Franklin who was used to be her handler. Dr. Farron looked like a middle-aged man with slightly hunched back and roughed up face, though the most notable of his feature would probably those permanently standing hair that made him and all other clones of Dr. Franklin looks like they were being electrocuted all the time. It's not like Ignette hate the man or anything, but compared to the original, Dr. Farron was rather boring and stiff. If Dr. Franklin acts like a curious kid with too much power, Dr. Farron acts like a depressed uncle who just come for the paycheck. That's probably the best comparison Ignette could make between the two, for now.

"Let's finish the briefing session." The man had a tired tone as he talk to Ignette, he approached the machine with his hands extended forward. Offering the device for the auxillary to jump in. Instead, Max Liebe's cannon moved past his shoulder and a loud pop echoed throughout the place as a metal ball was propelled out of the barrel.

"Don't wanna! Freedom, here I come!!" The ball screamed as it grew a couple of rotors mid-air and used it to slowly flew away from the doctor's reach. Dr. Farron could only let out a deep sigh as he saw the auxillary acting like a child again, but he's too tired to chase her so he would just use this time to take a bit of nap. The report and the briefing can wait.

 

[Ehb]

Nor Clyde
Interactions: Clockwork_Magic OpenToAnyone

---

Nor didn't immediately recogdnize the operator who came up to her, asking for a recommendation as to where to catch some drink to end the night on a tizzy note.

"Oh. Who is this?" Nor asked.

At first it seemed like the question was addressed to Solline. But, looking at Nor's eyes, it was a direct voice command to her communicator unit. On Nor's right eye, a page of information was clearly being projected onto those Pink Eyes of hers. Nor scrolling the basic dossier was reflecting a pale yellow off her Iris and visible to the Sniper.

There were a couple of things that immediately struck Nor after getting the quick introduction from the public file. The really young looking girl asking so directly for a place to get some hooch was a little amusing. But drinking with that level of metabolic efficiency? Was she planning to drink a shot and throw it up right afterward?

It wasn't really Nor's place to be telling this person how to live their life though. Anyway, the thing before Nor was a Series Type. The Old Hag referred to them as Mass produced Dolls.

Disposable according to Sinnora Clyde.



"...There's a bar around the corner that the locals like. Greasy Axle. It looks like a sleazy joint but the bartender Velecrois mixes a mean Cocktail. Just mind the alcohol intake though, especially with that kind of metabolic efficiency." At that point, Nor started looking past Solline, back again at the establishment she and Solline had walked out of to see if anyone else was leaving. "I'm not a fan of booze, so I always ask him to make it all fruity like with the little chewy things in it."

Nor, seemingly satisfied at answering the basic question, was already looking directly through the Series Type before her.
It almost was feeling as it Nor was looking past her like some kind of inanimate object now...

 

[BnemonicDevice]

scroll me!

TIPHERETH

At the Cat Shack Saloon; Getting hammered.

Free for interactions.

Talking to: Chomp Lucius Cypher

It all felt like a blur to the therapist-- the carnage that is. For whatever reason, after she receives such exhilrating stimulation, she seems to discard that experience like a predator tossing away the carcass of their prey, already focusing on the path ahead of them, putting the past behind them. After being dropped off by Chomp, she decided to head back to the residential district of Top Side to wash off the stench of war off her body.

"Mommy! Mommy! Who's that on the poster?"

The voice belonged to a child, perhaps no older than age 5, tugging at an adult's arm and pointing to a poster plastered on the wall. It was probably some image of renowned Combat Operators captured in a way to reassure the masses. Showing off the protectors of Top Side to daredevilish and/or privileged residents was always a good way to inculcate them into a sense security. It was a normal question for a young child to ask, and the albino paid it no heed- until the identity of the hero in question was brought up.

Tiphereth's eyes fluttered as the glorified warrior came into view, it was the image of a short man, adorned with white hair with a single black strand highlighted, standing tall and firm, resting his arms on a greatsword bound by chains. Her eyes widening in shock as she found feet unable to carry her forward for a brief second.

. . . . . . . .

And that was why Tiphereth was getting herself hammered at the counter of the Cat Shack Saloon that evening. She didn't care what she was drinking, she was going to numb aaallll the pain away tonight, like she always does. Her face planted itself against the counter- she picked up a loud, metallic noise ringing in her ears that wasn't from her God Program.

Her eyes lazilly tried to find the location of its source, already having a hunch of the voice's owner-

"Oi."

she bluntly called out to Chomp. She picked herself up, stumbling forward, trying to reach her arms out to the auxilary, only to find her arms hooked around what she thought to be his neck in a lazy embrace.

"How was *hic* spoils big guy? Shaaame that I couldn't catch anythingg myy *hic* sellf."

her speech slurred, her eyes fluttering looking up at him with a cheesy grin.

♡coded by uxie♡

-->

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions: Ehb | Open to interaction​

---

Solline gave Nor a confused expression when she said her question out loud. Wouldn't the question usually be "Who are you?" instead of "Who is this?" Her confusion was only amplified when Nor mentioned her metabolic efficiency after recommending a place to her when she noticed the pale yellow light being reflected off of the girl's eyes. "If I get wasted, I get wasted, that's none of your business, and neither is my metabolic efficiency. What, you looking at my public records or something with your fancy eye piece? Sorry to disappoint, I'm not that interesting of a girl." She said that last sentence with a hint of sass in her voice, noticing the way Nor was now staring at her and narrowed her eyes at Nor. You got a problem or something? At this point, the confused expression on Solline's face was long gone, replace with that of semi-subtle hostility.

The longer she stared at Nor, the more Solline began to wonder. Nor huh? That name rings a bell somehow... She began looking the girl up and down. Looks a little familiar too... She tilted her head just slightly, with her eyes still narrowed at Nor, the belligerent stare she was giving Nor subtly and slowly shifting. There was still hostility in her eyes, yes, but if one were to really look beyond that hostile glare, one would notice a subtle puzzled look on her face as well, as if she was trying to solve a puzzle. It was then Solline remembered a certain operator, by the name of Sinnora Clyde, that she had only heard of from the people she worked with on the multitude of expeditions and caravan missions she carried out over the past 3 years. She was a relatively well known operator within expeditionary team circles, especially among some of the older operators Solline worked with, who had gone on quite a few scouting missions over her career. The descriptions of that operator she overheard from her colleagues matched the appearance of the girl before her and even her name seemed to be a shortening of the name Sinnora. There was just one problem though: if the rumors of her expedition colleagues are to be believed, the operator in question was already dead, yet here she seemingly was in front of her.

Oh? Is that how it is? How interesting... After what must have been a while of staring, a sly smirk manifested itself on Solline's face as things clicked in her head. "If anything, you're the interesting one out of the two of us. It's not every day you see the dead ringer of a long dead woman walking around the ship." Solline was nearly certain that the girl before her was a clone of that dead operator, however said the remark to Nor anyways, in a moment of curiosity and a bit of spite, just to get some sort of final confirmation out of her.​

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with:Tiphereth ( BnemonicDevice )​

---

As Chomp was distributing toys to the children, another operator showed up. Tiphereth, who seemed to be quite drunk. Chomp wasn't sure if she was already here or just arrived, he hadn't been paying too much attention. He nods at her direction as she walks over, figuring she just wanted to say hello, but was slightly surprised when she went as far as to drape herself around Chomp's neck. Given her drunken state, which was already difficult for most Auxilary, let alone a GPO, Chomp had very little difficulty as he would try to remove her and let her sit on the couch next to him. It was surely more comfortably than his cold metal body. She seemed to be interested in Chomp's 'spoilers', which he assumes she meant the various parts he had brought to his Science Team and to Liliam. He was willing to talk about the former since she's a fellow GPO, but knew not to speak about the latter as that was business confidential. So Chomp waited for the Cowboyz to finish their current song, playing some ambiance before speaking in his usual booming voice.

"SUFFICIENT. I HAVE OBTAINED USEFUL EQUIPMENT THANKS TO THE PARTS I HAD PROCURED DURING THE MISSION. SHOULD WE WORK TOGETHER IN A FUTURE OPERATION, YOU MAY WITNESS IT."

Chomp however imagined that Tiphereth was not interested in GPO work. Indeed, Chomp wasn't too keen on it himself. Time and place after all, and he's here to relax, not talk shop. Though he could if she really wanted to. With the arrival of Tiphereth, most of the families seem to have went away, perhaps out of fear of the drunken GPO or maybe just to give the two operators some relative privacy. Though one little girl did approach with a happy meal, as well as a drawing of Tiphereth herself. Very casually Chomp would consume the meal and create the model, though notably he created two. One he gave to the girl, and the other he gave to Tiphereth herself. Unlike the little girl's, who's model was meant for playing, the one he gave to Tiphereth was more akin to a statuette. It was a very dynamic pose, with her arms spread out. Notably the terrain was on the top of a destroyed Carrier. It looked like she was having fun. Chomp silently handed it to the female operator.

"YOU HAVE IMBIBED A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES. YOU SHOULD HYDRATE."

Chomp needn't say any more as Cookie came over to refill his massive glass with more Shell Citrus Soda, and brought some water for Tiphereth to drink. The band also went on a short break, with only a few members staying to do an equipment check. But over the speakers came some synthesized music, no doubt made by Liliam. Chomp liked this one, it was soothing. As the music played Cookie came back over with two plates of flan and a tray of sushi. Chomp gave her a questioning look, considering that he didn't ask for this. But before he could say a word Cookie was called away to service some other customers, leaving Chomp and Tiphereth with a small meal. The fish had a pleasant aroma to it, cool to the touch with an authentic taste. The rice was of high quality, suitable for the Tops. The flan was soft and sweet as well, with just enough firmness to press against your tongue so you get the full flavor. Chomp took a plate of flan, eating it daintily with a comically small spoon.

"FEAST."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Hiberus Shaw, Phobos Itself
Interactions: Lucius Cypher BnemonicDevice Mentions: N/A


The quintessential question after this banal extermination mission on Shaw's mind was... What to accomplish now? The moribund fear merchant roamed away from the platform upon collection of his payment. Giving himself up to the wind. Nearly autonomically carving a path through the shadows of the residential area. "Activate: Vocal Journal, Archive as Log 569;" A rough, jingle of noises sounded off giving clearance to the dark ghoul. A sharp stab of air entered his lungs with the silence of the void furtively vaulting over an enlarged pipe, grey-coating edged away to reveal coppery insides. It radiated a warmth -- a heating pipe, perhaps? -- through his tough-knuckled gloves. Slick with droplets of water. Soon after a soundless hop between raised platforms, the terror provider began filling his digital journal. "Twenty-eight hours, fifty-seven minutes, and eleven seconds have passed since previous journal entry. Reason: Confidential Extermination Mission, appellation: Crimson Consciousness; After completion, needed four-point-seven hours of recuperation to allow healing of substantial damage. There is no greater ability of the God Program Operator than the--"

Power. The main generators cried themselves into a dead whimper. Thought Shaw as he chased away the trailing smoke from his pistol's gun barrel in the darkness of the room. Soon his eyes were stabbed by the strobing, red lights powered by the backup generations. A hissing alarm bounced throughout sizable complex. Someone will be sent to check on this, only to find four bullet holes at key junctures to the generators. Shaw would be long gone by then, moving onto his primary objective with mechanical sophistication. The corridors claustrophobic in construction were no challenge for the hunter to bypass the trampling line of gun-totting repairmen. So few glance up, even fewer when they were preoccupied by trailblazing, colliding thoughts. Banking on the certainty that no one could escape a room with a singular exit. He proceeds apace through the wider hallways. Boxes and tarps, toolkits and parts strewn side to side with the haphazardness befitting humanity. Bleached in crimson as if giant packs of blood simultaneously detonated. The path began to twist and turn as Shaw ducked into corners or hastily switched direction in this maze abode. Twin doors stopped him in his tracks, though they were only being mechanically locked if you knew where the bolts were... The whining of steel as digi-structed blade, thin as water's edge, cleaved apart machined parts that held the door closed. His gloved fingers crawled into the gap, shoulders and elbows pounding with strength. The door grinds against Shaw, resisting him because of the wedges in the floor. A futile effort as -- "Oh... shit." A wall of bullets whistle-screamed. He dived to the side of the half-opened doors. Losing Time... Shaw grunted, teeth shivering in urging brutality. With Phobos' song, a razor-lined shield materialised in Shaw's hands and a contact explosive on the front. One. Two. Three! The bullets stopped spewing forth, but he knew that wouldn't last as the other gun men in the room would take up their colleagues' position. Shaw slammed against the door, the det-charge firing debris. Some were killed, but more were injured in the explosion. Shaw was peppered as well, but no action comes without risk.

Cyclonic swiftness, flying lead, gore, and screams. The Extermination Mission is--

"Complete." Said Shaw as he jumped down into an alleyway. The darkness enveloping the man on command and with the closeness of a lover. While he recording, his eyes spotted a sight. An Establishment by the name of the Cat Shack Saloon. Eye-raised as Shaw analysed on the precipice of darkness. It has been too long since he had a drink. A step into the light washed Hiberus with yelps, gasps, and near-screams. Even a small child was caught off guard as she bumped into his concrete-hard leg. Falling backwards. Shaw's eyes squint at the little girl, as he knelt down to offer a hand. Not older than ten. The kid hesitantly accepts the ghoul-faced offer. In a surprise lightness of motion, the kid was already upright. Her hand clutched a fistful of gleaming, ship currency. The pillar that she bumped, gone with the wind.

The Phobos user pushed against the door and a grip on his belt. A moment's pause as on-lookers turned to look at this statue of dark blue with lacing scratch-scars on his mask. His piercing midnight blue eyes told them all to resume their activities. The guts of the Saloon painfully contrasted the operator, standing alone amidst the sea of folk. A rain cloud hounded island. But islands aren't always alone. His eyes caught the sight of robust Chomp scooping a piece of flan with a spoon that is twice smaller than he. Along with Tiphereth haggling the poor auxiliary. From afar, he could tell she was drunk with... Well, Alcohol. A taut, dead grin plastered across his face harder than Tiph was plastered. He made his way over to them, lacking the interest to occupy the bar as he does in his preferred watering hole.

"Chomp. Tiphereth." He addressed the operators whilst acquiring a chair, not wishing to crowd the couch. The atmosphere of the Saloon continued unabated by the presence of the three operators. Shaw's ears tickled with the background ambiance. A foot rose up to find purchase on his left knee. His eyes looked at the dynamic statuette of Tiphereth, nodding in the fineness of its construction. The operator slid the tray of sushi closer with hooked fingers, degloving to pick up a morsel and eat it by venting open his mask. The slides soon close as Shaw chewed. A sidelong glance was thrown at Tiphereth, before Shaw's head inclined to look at Chomp. Orbs of midnight stared at the machine in blank disinterest. Finishing his sushi piece. "By my estimates, she has consumed eight cups of alcohol." Said Shaw, apropos of nothing.

 

[foresigh]

[Ethan Vogel]​

"T-Thank you..." Ethan replied to Solliene and did a short bow before she left. God! That was awkward...

Ethan was happy that the AI from his robot was very unique, but maybe it needed a bit of tunning in its personality, did he put the sassiness parameter too high? Well, At least she wasn't mad. After that interaction with the blonde woman, he decided that was a good moment to head back to the command center and finish his daily tasks. Ethan pushed a needle in a tiny hole on the back of the robot's head, making it shut down. He headed back to the Locker rooms to store the bird again in its box and continued his day uneventfully.

=====

At night, Etha arrived at the front door of his apartment in the Residential sector, he proceeded to touch the keyhole of the knob with his thumb. A green led light shined around the knob and the door was opened. The inside was completely dark, with all the windows shut down, not letting any outside light pass through. Ethan stepped in, closing the door behind him.

"I'm home," Ethan said to no one.

A soft beep echoed through the apartment and all the lightbulbs turned on at the same time. Ethan squint his eyes and frowned at the sudden change of brightness, maybe he should add a fade-in to the lighting system. He took off his shoes and walked in, dropping his backpack on a small couch in the living room. The interior of the apartment wasn't the most unpolluted place in Polaris, with different tools, scraps, and take-out boxes all around the place. He tried to be more organized, he even dedicate one day every 4 months to do a deep cleaning, but he's too busy most of the time and doesn't have the time to clean regularly, or that's what he says to himself anyway.

Ethan sat in the chair in front of a workbench, on top of it were parts and pieces of different robots, blueprints folded and stacked one over the other, with a bright lamp illuminating it all. The most noticeable thing from the top of the workbench was a blueprint with the details of the bird Ethan built. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Today was a tiresome day. Ethan was used to working many hours regularly, but this day he just felt emotionally and physically exhausted.

"I can't believe that I actually went into an active operation just to save a dumb bot" Ethan covered his face with his hands, ashamed and frustrated with himself. It was just a routinary operation, but it wouldn't be out of the reality that the situation could have turned way more dangerous at any point. He then grabbed a small wrench from the workbench and started to spin it and move it around his fingers, playing with the tool while lost in his thoughts. Also, he was wrong on something though, it wasn't a dumb bot, he was the dumb one. The bird was cool.

"Why am I like this?" Ethan asked himself in an almost inaudible voice. His sight was lost in the nothingness and his mind crumbling. His job was to be an Operator, but he was terrible at it. Many times he reconsidered his place and value amongst other GPOs, and if he was even worth having the Program Lethe, which for him was more of a curse than a blessing given by a god. With that thought, Ethan stopped playing with the wrench and held it tightly. Full of irritation and frustration, Ethan let his ability flow again to his hand. "Why...?!" The sensation on his veins was of the razors cutting from the inside out, slowly and sufferable. But at this time, this pain he felt was, somehow, releasing. He didn't know why, but after a couple of seconds, the feeling of frustration disappeared. As well as the wrench in his hand, which had some cuttings already healing. He was glad his regenerative factor was so high, or else he would be dead a long time ago. But maybe that wouldn't be a bad outcome, maybe a clone of himself would be a better GPO... maybe his current existence wasn't needed.

"I need a walk" Shaking those thoughts out of his brain, Ethan rushed to take a quick shower and change clothes to comfortable jeans and a hoodie. He left the apartment without a path in mind, he just wanted to walk around the Vessel and clear his mind.


Responding to: Clockwork_Magic

 

[Ehb]

Nor Clyde
Clockwork_Magic OpenToAnyone

---

Nor's gaze returned back to Solline. The girl seemed a bit displeased over Nor looking up her information. She slapped away Nor's touch of concern with veiled hostility.

None of her business.

Of course it wasn't Nor's business. But then again Nor wasn't in the business of giving directions or recommendations either. In yet she'd obliged anyway out of general courtesy. Though the girl had yet to introduce herself, Nor already knew her name just from staff lookup just now. Was probably handy to already know the name since it seemed like 'Solline' wasn't planning to introduce herself before asking about Nor's dead 'relative' if Sinnora could be called that.

Solline didn't seem to hesitate bringing up Nor's template - and her conclusion that Nor was Sinnora's dead ringer. What was even the proper way to Nor could even respond to that? The still-food-dazed Operator ultimately made her decision with a small dose of annoyance.


"Well, in that case, who I am is none of your business either, Soileen." Nor said. Possibly mispronouncing the girl-gunner's name on purpose.

"Didn't you say you had a drink to get wasted on? Quit wasting my time, then."

With her free hand. Nor gestured the girl to shoo off. Downtime was too short to spend it making enemies. So as a kindness, Nor Clyde attempted to disengage from the conversation. Rather, let Miss Soileen get along with what she was supposed be doing in the first place.

 

[Clockwork_Magic]

Solline
Interactions: Ehb | Open to interaction​

---

The smirk on Solline's face remained as the clone girl snapped back at her, mispronouncing her name. So you were looking me up, damn stalker. Solline gave a little chuckle before responding, not a genuine one in the slightest by any sort of metric. "At least you saved me the time of introducing myself by looking me up, miss stalker." She said in a teasing and sarcastic voice. "You know, I think I'll do just that. Thanks for the recommendation anyways, little miss dead ringer." With that, Solline turned to leave the clone girl to her devices, the small exchange only serving to contribute to a preconception of Solline's. Who the hell needs other people anyways?

Just as she thought that, she looked down at the outfit she was wearing, the image of a girl with pink hair flashing across her mind, bringing with it an unsteady feeling. In an effort to drown out that feeling, Solline reached into her pockets, pulling out her phone and plugging in her earbuds. She tapped on the first song in her playlist and set the volume to max. Who cared if that was going to damage her hearing, it was just going to heal and return to normal anyways. Oh the perks of being a GPO.

Humming along to the lyrics to the song, Solline made her way to the bar that Nor had recommended to her. Stepping inside the bar, she sat down at an empty seat at the counter, taking off one of her earbuds as she did. "Excuse me, can I get a Margarita?" The bartender looked at Solline suspiciously on account of her extremely young appearance, but after a while of questioning and explaining herself, the bartender eventually served her. It wasn't Solline's first time having to do this. On the contrary, she was quite used to doing this to the point where she was basically following a script, since the same thing would happen over and over at every bar she went to. It didn't bother her as much to go through the explanation to the bartender as it used to, although it does make her wish that she didn't look as young as she did on nights like these. Being somewhat of a lightweight drinker, Solline was already becoming a little tipsy as she finished her first drink. Uually that's when she would take a little break between drinks, however tonight wasn't the usual night. She ordered a regular whiskey on the rocks, which she downed as quickly as the first drink. Another patron, one significantly more sober than Solline was, at the counter noticed how drunk she was getting. "Hey missy, maybe you should take a break from the drinks..." He said as he placed a hand on her shoulder, to which she slapped his hand away. "Do *hic* that again... and you'll *hic* regret it..." She said to the guy while showing him the inside of her coat, where she kept Mercury. "Y-yea, r-right. Sorry, miss" The patron stuttered his way through his response and went back to his own drink. Solline glanced down at her coat, which she was still holding, the image of Eimi flashing through her mind again. "Ish not like *hic* ... I asked you to buy me thish you big *hic* dummy..." She said under her breath to no one in particular before lying her head down on the counter, the bartender placing a glass of water by her.​

 

[Lucius Cypher]

Interacting with:No One​

---

Chomp engaged in a discussion with Tiphereth and Shaw, mostly a drunken philosophical one, which eventually resulted in Tip pulling out a gun and scaring everyone off. But no one was harmed and when Chomp was the only one left at the Cat Shack Saloon, he left a large sub of credits on behalf of his fellow operators behavior and left. There was still a lot of time left for recreation before he would need to head back home and begin his research phase. His mood of drinking was done but he could still go for some music. But with the band scared off, he won't have it here. Finishing his mug, Chomp leaves the saloon and goes for a walk.

Music and memories still on his mind, Chomp began to mentally narrate the exchange he had with the others. "What brings me happiness? Is it something fleeting, something that will always bring me joy? I always feel... A rush in battle. To see my enemies crushed before me. To withstand many pains where others have felled. And yet I also enjoy the sweet sounds if music. The faces of the soft organics as they laugh, cry, and shout. I like to see their hands make music or weapons that I will enjoy. Food that I will eat. These are things that bring me happiness. But... I am not happy right now. I am not sad either. I just am. Happiness is a fleeting feeling. Is that why the organics chase it so fervently?" Walking through the narrow streets Chomp overheard shouting as a woman was yelling at a man over something. Apparently he has been seeing other women and this was a problem. It gave Chomp to think about. "Does this mean enjoy women? Is that why he sought out more, even through he has her? If she angry that he seeks out other women? Or does she lack men in her life? Why does one's pursuit for happiness make another angry?" Chomp continued on his walk, reaching a larger commercial district.

There was more open space here, but also a lot more people. Organics and Auxilary milling about on business. Heading to work or home. Everyone worked different hours, so it's not unusual for one group to head to work while another were going to drink and play. Polaris always needed to be cared for so there was no real work/play time. It was also loud here. But not in the sense of the Polaris droning, but because of the various speakers and shouting blaring advertisements, announcements, or music to draw in customers. Chomp, despite being a GPO, was just another customer to these corporations. One that caught his interest was something called an arcade. It was a place where one could spend credits to participate in simulations, such as combat simulations. But Chomp didn't care for the combat sims unless it was for research, which he wasn't doing right now. But he was interested in a different one.

One of the larger arcades had an attraction in front of their building where one could pay credits to pick a song, which will then display a video. Using tracking software to scan your movements you can achieve a high score the better you sync your movements to what is displayed in the video. Very popular with children. And Chomp. He marched up to the monitor and there were a gang of youths hanging by the machine. Unlike the folks at the Cat Shack Saloon, these children did not give Chomp much difference. They were rebellious, even though they knew who he was . They jeered and three insults at him. But their words failed to harm him, barely scratching his cold, unfeeling metal skin. But he would hit them where it hurt the most: their egos.

In a well practiced motion Chomp starts a game and sets it to "Operator Mode", which was the game's highest difficulty setting. He stood in front of one monitor as one of the youths step up to the other, full of vigor and confidence. As the one who was being challenged by Chomp, the youth got to pick the song. And so he picked one that was quite popular. Chomp wasn't familiar with the name of the song, as it was written in some sort of foreign script. But he recongized one thing: the name of the band. It was Neon Aces, the group that Amiela belonged to. He's never heard of this song, or at least did not know it's name. It wasn't unusual for these idol groups to use languages long since forgotten to give themselves a more exotic flavor, drawing in more attention towards themselves. Indeed as the song began a stream of words came that Chomp didn't understand. But he didn't need to understand.

He only needed to feel.

Both he and the youth began to dance. Following the movements of the character on the monitor, the youth was fast and had a good sense of rythmn. But Chomp was no slough either. Despite his body's bulk and size, such abilities such as dancing was not beyond him. Indeed, these sort of things were exactly what Chomp does when he tests his bodies, to ensure a full range of motion, stress testing, and measuring his flexibility. Even has his metal feet stomped on the solid plate below, each step moved and slid in tune to the music. Chomp's arms followed the same coordination as the image, following the movements with keen precision. Still, Chomp wasn't perfect either. His movements were slightly lagging behind, often resulting him in only achieving a good or great even if he hadn't broken his combo. By contrast his opponent was hitting nothing but perfects. Chomp began to study their movements instead, noting that the youth wasn't quite copying the same movements as the figure on the screen but seemed to be moving faster. They were able to predict the movements they needed to do or perhaps... They simply had a better feel for the rhythm than Chomp, who was relying entirely on the video for the right cues.

In the end Chomp did lose. While he managed to score 901 points, which was SS in rank, his opponent scored 983, which was SSS. Both scores were more than enough to pass, but his opponent was much better at moving in rhythm ahead of the song whereas Chomp simply followed the directions as he saw them and while he was fast, he wasn't able to hit those same secret bonuses that gave his opponent a bigger lead. Chomp made a mental note that he needed to be less reactive. He needed to learn this rhythm. He needed to be better. As he had lost, Chomp stepped back and allowed someone else to challenge the current champion to dance as he watched. He also thought about the music that played. He had never heard it before, and had no idea what was written or said. He wonders if Amiela knew it. He would make a mental note to ask her next time he meets her. "Music fascinates me. The noise make no sense, and yet I understand them. I feel their rhythm in my body. They aren't unpleasant like most things I don't know. They make me feel... Happy. I wish I understood music better. I wish I could make music."

 

[Lekiel]

Amiela Aeterna, BRUNHILD 059

She wondered what lay underneath that ghastly face. That phantom with eyes of plasma blue. Even in the midst of raucous laughter and thumping music, something about the way he looked still set a little unease in her heart the moment the coral haired series heard him enter the establishment. It seemed to her but a childish fear, almost like she was a toddler being scared witless by the unfamiliar face of a painted clown.

The protective skin of Dainsleif had been doffed for the more civilian appropriate garb of a red pleated skirt, ribboned frilled blouse and coat combo. A beret in matching colour completed her ensemble. Salmon pink eyes followed the looming operator as he made his way over to where an inebriated TIphereth had been fawning over the cool steel of the Cat Shack Saloon’s prime patron. She noticed the way his mask seemed to unfold itself to allow a morsel of food in before closing. An inconsequential act, but one so ordinary that it broke the enigmatic spell his visage offered and she offhandedly wondered why did the operator choose to hide behind a sheet of alloy.

A slim hand raised her cocktail glass as she downed the remainder of her drink, reverting her attention back to the live band for a scant second before swiping her payment and pushing her way out the front doors. She hesitated on the precipice for a moment, taking in the draft of the cool night air deep into her synthetic lungs.

It was one of those days. No early sleep for Amiela tonight. With a long suffering sigh, she began her long aimless trek, winding through the mainways and alleyways that constituted the bowels of Polaris.

People watching, live music and aimless wandering. Just a few from the handful of activities that could arrest her attention enough to keep it from falling into the depths of the Shell.

The crinkly pages of a book didn’t quite fit her current mood and she’d been trying to cut back on the smoky euphoria of Ambrosia. Zeke’s grating advances everytime she sought him out in the lower levels for a new batch of distilled aetherspores was starting to lacerate her nerves. Loath as she was to let his hands anywhere on her skin or to suffocate on his tobacco fumed breath, he was her only pusher. At least until someone else found a way to distill those accursed spores to Crystalline clarity, highest and most expensive of all Ambrosia purities.

Expensive, but cash she was never short of.

Trouble was, this was Zeke. And Zeke could get all the cash he wanted, whenever and wherever. So payment was only something her artificial sinew of synthorganics and impeccable biomimicry could give. Filthy squalid pleasure. It was a wonder really, with all the resources he had, he could easily have pulled a few strings and gotten the exact ‘tools’ for his personal rapture at any specifications he wanted; still he wanted it to be from her.

Nonetheless, for all his abhorrent behavior he had the meagre courtesy to ensure he kept any digital recording of their insalubrious liaisons to himself. Not that it’d be the end of her world if it got out. She couldn’t care less at this stage. Work as an Operator would be extremely inconvenient though, and if anything, she hated inconveniences.

The start of lively music abruptly broke her midnight reverie. The Brunhild Operator suddenly found herself walking down a vaguely familiar alleyway with the pulse of neon lights glowing at the turn of the corner. The thump of fast paced music grew louder as she moved closer until finally, she reached the end of the path.

Amiela found herself coming out of a side alley and into a vaguely familiar business and entertainment hub. There were more people up and about despite the time, there was even a small crowd gathered in front of what appeared to be an arcade. Entranced, she began walking closer.

No way. . .

Chomp and some punk haired youth was battling it out at some dance battle, with the former doing surprisingly well despite the obvious clunkiness of his form. And the song. . . a sudden warmth of nostalgia flushed through the Operator’s veins.

Em. . .

Em. . . Amiela!

She started, turning to glance over at the other woman. It was like looking in a mirror. The same pointed nose, sculptured cheeks and almond shaped eyes. The only real difference other than their outfits was that her salmon pink tresses was styled into a pixie cut and perhaps the perpetual smile that adorned her lips. Tersola. Tess.

“Y-yes?” she stuttered, caught off guard.

“C’mon, stop the moping! I want to show you something-”
“Show me wh-” she began, but her sister had already taken her arm and was marching her across the plaza, straight towards a-

“An arcade-?”

“Well yes, and arcade. But in particular-” Tersola sauntered over to a large screen with squarish metal plates checkered to platforms before it, “this.”

“Uhm- I-I’m not feeling it Tess… you go ahead,” If she was the better singer, Tersola was always the better dancer.

“Nonsense,” Tess had already dropped in a couple of tokens - Polaris knows when she got them - and was prodding at the display.

“Tess I really-,” Amiela began, but faltered when she heard the start of the song, “how did-”, she couldn’t finish her question.

“C’mon Em,” Tess had moved over to usher her sister onto one of the platforms, “let’s do this, just a little something. . . for Aeria. . .and Nagale.”

Aeria. Nagale. Her eyes were watery then, but she stepped forward. She sniffed, but the corners of her lips had curled into the beginning of a smile.

Aerie. Nagale.

“Tersola.”

Amiela stepped forward as the Auxilary relinquished his position. Passing by the behemoth of metal, if he was looking he’d see the tracest of her smile. The crowd whooped and cheered as the game began anew. With a digital trill, the music started and the coral haired girl felt something spark within the void of her insides and like an artist who’d never forget the feel of their brush sliding across a canvas, her feet began to move with practiced ease even as her voice began to sing along to the lively foreign words. The battle was wrought with tension as both dancers seemed to hit each move with perfect precision. And then it was over.

984. The gleaming digits flashed across the screen along with the words ‘DRAW’.

She blinked at the display, even as the crowd around them erupted. The final scores began to fade away and the moment passed, the warmth of halcyon years dissipating.

Amiela Aeterna. It was just her now.

Turning on her heel, she left the crowd without a single word.

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