littlekreen
Edgepeasant
ALWAYS THE WINDOW SHOPPER, NEVER THE PRODUCT.
DONATING MEMBER
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
Chalcedony - Character Sheet
As they talked to the two strange individuals knives flit through the air whirling Chalcedony in place to dart away evading the remarkably hazardous projectiles, "Oh dear! Ohdearohdearodear! I need to cohabitate!"
She spared a glance to Captain America as they talked then to Ryan, Luer, Kirby, and lastly Bem, "Hm. No. maybe. No. What even are you? Oh, the new one!"
Huge angry creatures materialized from inside engrams tossed onto the ground and nervously hugged a wall to stay out of notice. On her way over to have a closer look at Bem saw the back of Moire's helmet and its tiny chip slot, "Oh! Hello, interface port! will-hidden ghost in metal!"
It was less that she connected to the suit than the small ghost shell circled Moire's head then folded at strange angles to fit itself through the thinnest of threads across the neural lattice. The chip reader and attendant neural lattice made for a usable gateway to the mind. Promptly holding the gate shut behind her as cyberware might complain of a cybernetic intrusion though likely not designed to repel a metaphysical one. A 2d representation appeared on the suit HUD.
The icon's eye shifted left and right as Chalcedony hid from harm, "Ah. Apologies for the intrusion Ma'am. I'll just, ah, hide behind your armor for a moment, shall I? I am quite more fragile than you."
Floral handwriting of a new label wasn't usually something one used in user interfaces. Text and a climbing numeric value exposed itself as Chalcedony's tiny icon flit between parts of the interface. Some conceptual representation mangled in translation between disparate magical languages. She ignored it inspecting armaments by pulling down a menu. Worried that they were going to be bringing those strange crossbows to a knife-fight at barely a dozen paces. Not to mention the huge animals... well one down, still best to be prepared.
The icon looked at the counter marked 'Essence' with a small status of 'Fireplaceanchor online', "Ah, well, the 'number' represents rather a more subjective externality. It's slowly acreeting in my presence! I presume the natural potential must serve some purpose for you."
As she scrolled past suit equipment she stopped paying attention to the world getting much more violent and yammered on, "Do avoid getting stabbed by the black metal that's screaming before one of us finds something that can take a hit from it. Crossbow, tiny crossbow, fist, mead, mead, birdhouse... Birdhouse? Small colored human? Rotating engram storage manifold. Aha! Energy sword. Bound isochronal engram? well... these could fit together."
The energy sword glimmered with programmable matter reshaping the weapon interface as the ghost unwittingly connected the engram at the heart of a particular exotic rifle. Its new fate written in opposition to the screaming, suffering, dark of the soulsteel shaped as a weapon as much by Moire's intent than starmetal. Souls channeled in solidarity against the dark's chains rather than contained by force. A tempestuous argument one would certainly hear if not feel should the metals smash into one another.
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