[ Helloooo, Rodya doesn't know that memshare fuckery is going to happen so she is her usual brand of good mood as she waves at Blade when she sees him. ]
We finally have some sun this time -- but maybe too much sun? It's sooo hot!
[ Memshare fuckery suddenly being upon them is great, huh. As for Blade, he is his usual cranky-adjacent reticent self but he seems more than glad to be out in the sun. Not that anyone can tell with his frown lines right about now...but he nods at the wave, in greeting. ]
...There are far worse places to be.
The longer we stay, the more evident it should be that we are adequately hydrated, however.
[ Not that he believes Rodya to be careless, but desert heat dangers can creep upon oneself with a cruel quickness. ]
Though, Blade's eyes sweep along their immediate surroundings as he considers her words more acutely. ]
If there is something dangerous...it might be worth closer inspection. There are treacherous paths depending on which direction we take. But, are you up for the challenge?
[ There is a flicker of amusement heard in his tone. Considering the nature of this week, that itself will not last long, but oh well. ]
If you mean regarding our situation as a whole, I'd say minimally; I am not one for extensive...normal socialization. However, if you have something you have heard in terms of interest, I am all ears. Perhaps we could make some comparisons.
[ Blade sounds like how he usually does but there was probably at least a pause of some sort indicative of surprise on his end. Scrolling through the attachments listed, though, he seems to take note of something else. ]
...I didn't see this one in your files. Therefore, I will be sending you one as well.
[ Blade, fortunately, knows how to navigate equipment himself.
[ The million files...in the grand scheme of this, it might help him keep busy in the face of what is to come following their memory hardships and Cavern misadventures (hours of which can be adjusted so things aren't retconned? Or they just make a break for the showers, it's fine.)
Either way, Blade being of use at all to anyone outside of a battle is novel. When she asks, he simply says: ]
Yuri had it. We were talking and it so happened to have come up when we were discussing the circumstances behind our so-called "arrival".
We need a shower. Like. Now. You smell gross、which isn't looking good for me!
[ Like wet dogs... ahh. The last time she smelled something like this she's pretty sure is in a Mirror Dungeon, when she had to pry some sticky muck off of an effervescent pearl. She hopes she looks half as good when they're not back lit by bright pink. ]
[ Even if Blade was irritated by the mess this entailed, there is something about it that does amuse him in the slightest of ways. It feels contradictory to feel anything like that, yet to her comment he can only let out something like a huff of amusement.
That being said, when Rodya mentions something about a spa of all things, that more or less is suddenly grabbing his attention. He should gather up the energy within himself to protest, or something.
But, a shower feels inadequate and Blade surprisingly cares about his personal hygiene a lot. A snarky comment is about to leave his mouth, only for him to be pulled into Rodya's memory where she kills some bastard, and yet receives an unfair reprisal for her actions...?
That is what he grasps here, given the massacre that only seems to display those bodies of people who indeed were once enjoying themselves. So, she too also had a great loss?
Not that he anticipates she wanted for him to see this at all.
He turns towards her, about to speak, only for the void decide it's not quite done with them just yet.
'The location and whereabouts of this particular incident are an unknown; or perhaps they are already known to this man. One who searches for one particular goal that seems to pretty much elude him, in his search for — something. No, not just a singular aim, because at this time, there is nothing that can be certainly anything less than a desire to seek out these goals by whatever means possible.
For someone like Blade, connecting these pieces at times seems like nothing less than a miracle. On the edge of despair, purposefully dangling right off the cliff as he stares right up at an unfamiliar sky. He takes a breath, feeling it silent as ever, and sees them — two unknown faces.
He feels it, that urge, that itch, that disturbance, lying underneath...they are not him. They aren't the ones who are responsible for — that. The words Blade grasps for are falling further and further away. Perhaps it's his condition; he hasn't been attending very well to himself, but he doesn't care. He doesn't need to. All he needs to do is keep moving. Keep moving forward, until he has at least grasped what he has.
And they are...
In the way.
Blade's sword flies free from its scabbard and he steps towards them, uncaring of the fact that these two involve something in armor, and some unknown woman. They are unimportant. He imagines it won't take long —
And that is where his hubris begins, but it is also where it ends.
The memories and knowledge of what happened is — unclear. In one moment he is advancing, and in the next, there is nothing but intense pain. Perhaps there was a fight, perhaps there were words exchanged.
All of it ceases to matter.
Blood red stains his vision temporarily, and the taste of it stains his mouth in an unpleasant, yet sickeningly familiar way. His body refuses to move, and even after "that" moment, he awakens to find that being in armor holds him prisoner — pinned, perhaps? — in those metallic arms. Any struggles are futile, useless; meaningless.
Just like his life.
Words are spoken to him; first from that woman, her voice stilling his whole being; even that other part of him, "Listen, I can always kill you again, otherwise I can't bring you back."
She then says, "But I don't want to."
The undeniable, monstrous itch deep within him calms. The impatience dulls as he stares at her — beautiful long hair, and beautiful eyes. But that doesn't impress him as he sneers and growls, "What do you people want?"
Does she think that he is a man easily under her thrall? Even as he calms, there is a defiant piece of him that emerges in the face of this weariness. All the same, she still seems calm. Far more calmer than anyone else should be. She says, as if an aside, "Is there anything more satisfying than seeing how the undying die? That's what 'he' said."
Who? No...perhaps this was 'destiny's conclusion all along. Blade feels the grip that held him like he was imprisoned loosen all of a sudden, allowing him his freedom. If it can be called that, but in his heart, he feels it was so. This choice is his own.
Kafka, however, instead speaks the following words:
"Listen, Bladie, loosen up."
Blade does not feel any bit of resistance at those words, at the nickname granted to him. She seems to smile, satisfied. "Listen, don't think about anything at all."
He doesn't know when but he has already straightened himself to his feet. But as he watches the smile more closely, it wasn't satisfaction. Or perhaps it wasn't only just that. Sadness as well.
At that, he can only think:
"Maybe someone left her before they could listen to everything she had to say."
Curiosity springs like a flower in the early morning. He keeps walking, again and again, to whatever end that awaits him.
He learns their names:
Kafka. Silver Wolf. Sam.
And then, finally...
Elio. Destiny's Slave himself. The one who can grant his wish, once and for all.'
...And just like that, those memories seem to come to an end. For certain, this time. Being the quieter of the two, and more easily disturbed, he tries to shake out the fog that seems to settle in his head after a back to back spring of memories. ]
[ She can only laugh shortly as her memories get blasted on main. ]
I'm getting real sick of this -- the first time was enough.
[ Her grip on her axe is too-tight, expression contained but can't help but let a brief moment of bitter slip out, distress slipping from behind it. At least the void is somewhat fair, exposing Blade to a degree just like her. ]
[ Blade takes pause at the question directed his way, and gives a nod. He has spoken of his companions to her before, after all. ]
...Yes, those are my associates. Elio the leader, who I have not discussed previous. All banded together with a similar overall goal as the "Stellaron Hunters", despite our respective differing, personal aims.
As for you, it seems you have experience dealing with irreputable groups. This so-called 'Syndicate'.
[ If she'd met them, she wouldn't be alive. She's not the kind of person who would openly say she'd be better off dead -- and she believes it, she'd rather be alive -- but she can't deny that the survivor's guilt weighs heavier than she'd ever admit, if it weren't for this accursed effect. ]
Limbus Company, Bus Department. It's the same place I work with Greg at.
[ Her answer is all that it needs. Blade has no earthly idea of her usual prowess without the constraints of this place at all, but that tells him enough.
He doesn't wonder too hard about if she desired vengeance, however. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
WK3, monday;
We finally have some sun this time -- but maybe too much sun? It's sooo hot!
no subject
...There are far worse places to be.
The longer we stay, the more evident it should be that we are adequately hydrated, however.
[ Not that he believes Rodya to be careless, but desert heat dangers can creep upon oneself with a cruel quickness. ]
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[ She's so used to his perpetual frowny-face it's hilarious. She's used to too many people with perpetual frowny-face. ]
We got special water bottles and everything. Wanna take a look around?
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[ She has a point.
Though, Blade's eyes sweep along their immediate surroundings as he considers her words more acutely. ]
If there is something dangerous...it might be worth closer inspection. There are treacherous paths depending on which direction we take. But, are you up for the challenge?
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[ She's obviously intrigued especially since it's Blade who's asking. ]
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Just be aware, you can't take that back.
[ That definitely suits Blade just fine, as he begins to steer them in the direction of that so-called Cavern that he has vaguely heard about. ]
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[ Fucking get at her Bladie she's so ready, following while keeping her figurative ears perked for any strange happenings around otherwise. ]
Anyone keep you posted on things going on here and there, by the way?
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[ There is a flicker of amusement heard in his tone. Considering the nature of this week, that itself will not last long, but oh well. ]
If you mean regarding our situation as a whole, I'd say minimally; I am not one for extensive...normal socialization. However, if you have something you have heard in terms of interest, I am all ears. Perhaps we could make some comparisons.
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[ Experiencing the phenomenon that is texting and walking as she sends just really a whole bunch of shit to Blade's real quick. ]
RASKOL
🔗attachment_video_medbay
🔗attachment_file_roster
🔗attachment_file_roster(1) (update)
🔗attachment_video_multiplex
🔗attachment_file_multiplex
🔗attachment_file_lockers
🔗attachment_file_storms
That should be everything I got up 'til the last Friday!
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[ Blade sounds like how he usually does but there was probably at least a pause of some sort indicative of surprise on his end. Scrolling through the attachments listed, though, he seems to take note of something else. ]
...I didn't see this one in your files. Therefore, I will be sending you one as well.
[ Blade, fortunately, knows how to navigate equipment himself.
bladie
(1) attachment_file cargo bay ]
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Oh yeah, I totally missed this one!
[ She's reading it! ]
Where'd you get this one from?
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Either way, Blade being of use at all to anyone outside of a battle is novel. When she asks, he simply says: ]
Yuri had it. We were talking and it so happened to have come up when we were discussing the circumstances behind our so-called "arrival".
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Mood on being use of anything outside of battle though, though in Rodya's case, at least she's good at keeping spirits up. ]
Eww! What the heck is this stuff!
[ NOOOO ]
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Blade, in the meanwhile is looking like the resident...whatever. He is just so done. ]
...Disgusting. That's what it is.
[ There truly are fates worse than death. ]
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[ Like wet dogs... ahh. The last time she smelled something like this she's pretty sure is in a Mirror Dungeon, when she had to pry some sticky muck off of an effervescent pearl. She hopes she looks half as good when they're not back lit by bright pink. ]
I hope this washes out of clothes...
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Either way, we should get a move on to cleaning up. This is an unacceptable state to be in.
[ As for the commentary about clothes, he doesn't seem too concerned. ]
Fortunately, we have on the spaceship state-of-the-art laundry facilities.
[ Blade is keeping up to date always on the amount of places that are available on the ship, just in case it might suit him. ]
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[ She says like she actually cares when really she thinks it's funny he WOULD just say that to her. ]
There's a spa, too. You look like you could use it, and I could use the excuse. Let's --
[ And then they can try to leave the caverns, but en route, they can get voided. Lovely. ]
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That being said, when Rodya mentions something about a spa of all things, that more or less is suddenly grabbing his attention. He should gather up the energy within himself to protest, or something.
But, a shower feels inadequate and Blade surprisingly cares about his personal hygiene a lot. A snarky comment is about to leave his mouth, only for him to be pulled into Rodya's memory where she kills some bastard, and yet receives an unfair reprisal for her actions...?
That is what he grasps here, given the massacre that only seems to display those bodies of people who indeed were once enjoying themselves. So, she too also had a great loss?
Not that he anticipates she wanted for him to see this at all.
He turns towards her, about to speak, only for the void decide it's not quite done with them just yet.
'The location and whereabouts of this particular incident are an unknown; or perhaps they are already known to this man. One who searches for one particular goal that seems to pretty much elude him, in his search for — something. No, not just a singular aim, because at this time, there is nothing that can be certainly anything less than a desire to seek out these goals by whatever means possible.
For someone like Blade, connecting these pieces at times seems like nothing less than a miracle. On the edge of despair, purposefully dangling right off the cliff as he stares right up at an unfamiliar sky. He takes a breath, feeling it silent as ever, and sees them — two unknown faces.
He feels it, that urge, that itch, that disturbance, lying underneath...they are not him. They aren't the ones who are responsible for — that. The words Blade grasps for are falling further and further away. Perhaps it's his condition; he hasn't been attending very well to himself, but he doesn't care. He doesn't need to. All he needs to do is keep moving. Keep moving forward, until he has at least grasped what he has.
And they are...
In the way.
Blade's sword flies free from its scabbard and he steps towards them, uncaring of the fact that these two involve something in armor, and some unknown woman. They are unimportant. He imagines it won't take long —
And that is where his hubris begins, but it is also where it ends.
The memories and knowledge of what happened is — unclear. In one moment he is advancing, and in the next, there is nothing but intense pain. Perhaps there was a fight, perhaps there were words exchanged.
All of it ceases to matter.
Blood red stains his vision temporarily, and the taste of it stains his mouth in an unpleasant, yet sickeningly familiar way. His body refuses to move, and even after "that" moment, he awakens to find that being in armor holds him prisoner — pinned, perhaps? — in those metallic arms. Any struggles are futile, useless; meaningless.
Just like his life.
Words are spoken to him; first from that woman, her voice stilling his whole being; even that other part of him, "Listen, I can always kill you again, otherwise I can't bring you back."
She then says, "But I don't want to."
The undeniable, monstrous itch deep within him calms. The impatience dulls as he stares at her — beautiful long hair, and beautiful eyes. But that doesn't impress him as he sneers and growls, "What do you people want?"
Does she think that he is a man easily under her thrall? Even as he calms, there is a defiant piece of him that emerges in the face of this weariness. All the same, she still seems calm. Far more calmer than anyone else should be. She says, as if an aside, "Is there anything more satisfying than seeing how the undying die? That's what 'he' said."
Who? No...perhaps this was 'destiny's conclusion all along. Blade feels the grip that held him like he was imprisoned loosen all of a sudden, allowing him his freedom. If it can be called that, but in his heart, he feels it was so. This choice is his own.
Kafka, however, instead speaks the following words:
"Listen, Bladie, loosen up."
Blade does not feel any bit of resistance at those words, at the nickname granted to him. She seems to smile, satisfied. "Listen, don't think about anything at all."
He doesn't know when but he has already straightened himself to his feet. But as he watches the smile more closely, it wasn't satisfaction. Or perhaps it wasn't only just that. Sadness as well.
At that, he can only think:
"Maybe someone left her before they could listen to everything she had to say."
Curiosity springs like a flower in the early morning. He keeps walking, again and again, to whatever end that awaits him.
He learns their names:
Kafka. Silver Wolf. Sam.
And then, finally...
Elio. Destiny's Slave himself. The one who can grant his wish, once and for all.'
...And just like that, those memories seem to come to an end. For certain, this time. Being the quieter of the two, and more easily disturbed, he tries to shake out the fog that seems to settle in his head after a back to back spring of memories. ]
no subject
I'm getting real sick of this -- the first time was enough.
[ Her grip on her axe is too-tight, expression contained but can't help but let a brief moment of bitter slip out, distress slipping from behind it. At least the void is somewhat fair, exposing Blade to a degree just like her. ]
Your buddies?
no subject
Hmph. As if we would be afforded much courtesy...
[ Blade takes pause at the question directed his way, and gives a nod. He has spoken of his companions to her before, after all. ]
...Yes, those are my associates. Elio the leader, who I have not discussed previous. All banded together with a similar overall goal as the "Stellaron Hunters", despite our respective differing, personal aims.
As for you, it seems you have experience dealing with irreputable groups. This so-called 'Syndicate'.
no subject
[ At least not until Ricardo of Canto V fame but I took her from before that point so. ]
-- The Stellaron Hunters. They sound kinda like my new buds at the LCB. Maybe.
no subject
[ Considering they laid to waste to so many of people that Rodya knew, though...well. ]
Potentially. If there is a singular goal you and the rest are united under.
What does the LCB stand for?
no subject
[ If she'd met them, she wouldn't be alive. She's not the kind of person who would openly say she'd be better off dead -- and she believes it, she'd rather be alive -- but she can't deny that the survivor's guilt weighs heavier than she'd ever admit, if it weren't for this accursed effect. ]
Limbus Company, Bus Department. It's the same place I work with Greg at.
no subject
[ Her answer is all that it needs. Blade has no earthly idea of her usual prowess without the constraints of this place at all, but that tells him enough.
He doesn't wonder too hard about if she desired vengeance, however. ]
...What is the aim for this Limbus Company?
no subject
It doesn't really matter to me what they want the Boughs for, not that I really know either anyway so I couldn't tell you.
Let's just say the benefits are good. It's job offer I don't feel like turning down.
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