Oblivion Mayday, Payday

[Sarvod Dravis]

It was one hell of a job, literally.

As if out of nowhere, a scattered selection of planets had found themselves housing active gateways to the afterlife and the Galaxy's superpowers had scrambled to respond, clambering over each other to figure out what the feth was going on and, no doubt, to claim their piece of the cake.

Inevitably, private interests followed soon after.

One such group had somehow gathered together an expedition and gotten it into this new realm, in search of new resources to claim and exploit if Sar was to guess, only to lose contact with the whole thing. Conflict with the locals, apparently.

Shame for them, but for Sar it represented one hell of a payday if he could pull it off, which was why he was about to step into hell itself in nought but an armoured environmental suit. "I trust you know your chit, pal? I don't want an idiot at my back."

---

OOC: Feel free to join, no explicit permission required, but try to keep things reasonable and on-topic; showing up with a lightsaber is fine, showing up with an army is not. I'm considering turning this character into an Omni-Drone, but the thread's quite open-ended.​

 

[Amelia Ardahl]

“I certainly know more’n you, pal.”

The accented voice came from somewhere off to Sar’s side, where the ghost of Will Wolfe “stood”. He was semi-transparent, with a milky white glow emanating from his already pale form. Pink eyes scanned the horizon, searching for friend or foe, before he turned back to Sar Dravis with a raised eyebrow.

He’d been there at the meeting back at Mount Misery, albeit as an unseen observer. The mercenary had been ushered into the ruinous ballroom by the house itself, doors opening of their own volition and beckoning him through to the ruinous ballroom, where the Maestro sat in his great chair before the fireplace, his back turned so that Dravis couldn’t see his face. Only his white hand was visible, both gesturing for emphasis as he spoke and creating filmy illusions with long, tapered, dextrous fingers.

“Find one of these ‘drones’,” the Maestro had said, in his whispering tenor. “Capture it and bring it to me. I want to know what this Omni is all about...”

The hand snapped its fingers, and Will had felt the summons like the tug of an astral cord. He emerged from the wall, flying and alighting upon the checkered tiles with more grace than a bird, to look upon the mercenary just as he did in the present, his expression curiously blank.

“Will can be your guide. Head on down to Someplace Else soon as you’re ready.”

“There’s a stretch o’ desert outside these caverns,” Will explained. “Shouldn’t take long to traverse it, long as you stick close to me an’ don’t lose your way. Then from there, shouldn’t be too much trouble to find a ‘drone’.”

Sarvod Dravis​

 

[Sarvod Dravis]

It was a risky, tenuous thing, this job. A missing expedition would normally mandate a rescue mission of some kind, but the eccentric that had hired him had seemed entirely unconcerned with their fate - expendables or sent by someone else, no doubt. No matter. A single unwilling target was not necessarily any more complicated than a bunch of willing but potentially incapacitated ones.

Still, there was no way in hell he'd have taken the job if the broker that had arranged it hadn't been trustworthy.

"Hmm." It was his first time working with a dead person, but it was hard to say if it would be the last, what with the recent developments. He'd gotten an attachment for his blaster on the black market - would let it affects spirits, supposedly - but he'd yet to test it out.

Something told him the ghost would not appreciate being used as a target dummy.

"Copy that. Are you any good in a fight or is the drone - or drones - my responsibility alone?" A desert was a decent enough place to throw down, in his opinion. Better than these caverns, that was for sure - the cover was appreciable in a firefight, but those chains concerned him.

Oh, and the place made him feel like chit in ways his stims only partially alleviated. Good thing he was getting paid well.​

William Wolfe​

 

[Amelia Ardahl]

Will was, admittedly, a bit concerned about this mission too. He was used to the Maestro’s curiosity, and being sent as a ghostly guide or spiritual bodyguard for his associates—the latter was how he had met Marion, in fact—but the circumstances here were exceptional.

Then again, things had been getting weirder for a while now. Only a few days before Sar Dravis entered the picture, the Maestro had sent Will into the Nether to find a missing ghoul named Ainsley. When Will came back empty-handed, having been unable to track down even a trace of Ainsley, the Maestro had abruptly called off the search. Since the magician had proven time and again how much he cared for his undead “family”, Will didn’t think he had forsaken Ainsley. Rather, it seemed his focus had shifted to Omni and the drones because he had reason to suspect that Ainsley had become one of them. And if Ainsley had indeed sworn fealty to a new master, whether willingly or by force, then Omni would have set himself up as a rival to the Maestro.

Of course, all of this was mere speculation on Will’s part, unless the Maestro knew more than he was letting on. It was within the sorcerer’s right to keep secrets, but… he usually didn’t. At least, he didn’t keep much hidden from Will Wolfe.

The sound of Sar’s voice shook Will out of his thoughts. Intent on getting them out of the caves, Will had already started moving, assuming the mercenary would follow.

“I was under the impression you’d deal with any living obstacles we might encounter, while I would take care of the dead,” Will replied. Colorful accent aside, he didn’t express much emotion when he spoke, presumably because he was without a body. “Unless you intend to do both, and properly earn your pay. I wouldn’t exactly object.” Resuming his eerie gliding “walk”, he tossed a warning over his shoulder. “Mind where you set your feet, and don’t rattle any o’ th’ chains.”

Sarvod Dravis​

 

[Sarvod Dravis]

"I'll handle what I can handle, but I make no promises in regards to spirits."

In other words, the ghost might well be on his own, if Sar's little project didn't pan out. He certainly didn't have any finger-waggling space magic at his disposal, unlike the Sith and Jedi no doubt crawling all over Oblivion, hoping to claim it for their side. Bunch of loonies the lot of them, as far as he was concerned, but their credits were as good as anyone else's. When they could be trusted to pay their mercs, anyway.

At William's warning, Sar eyed the chains even more dubiously, fingers twitching as one of them seemed to move ever so slightly - without external influence. He was used to traps, even carefully hidden one, but this place did not behave like any technology he knew.

He did not like it, not one bit. The pay would have to be amazing for him to consider a return.

"Your master, the Maestro, he has reason to believe a drone can be found near where this expedition was lost? Are there any alternate locations if it turns out to be a dead end?" There were more than one way of being screwed over by this place, he was sure. Omni was but one.​

William Wolfe​

 

[Amelia Ardahl]

Will paused momentarily. Gruff as his manner was, Sar was asking for help.

“The Maestro thinks it best if you capture a live drone, as opposed to a spirit. Bringin’ the dead into our world’s a tricky thing.” Resuming his pace, Will stopped again, realizing belatedly how strange his words must sound. “Without the help of a sorcerer, or someone else who knows what they’re doin’…”

Even then, it’s like playin’ with fire, he thought but did not say.

As for what they would do if they couldn’t find a drone here, Will shrugged. “There’s plenty other places we could try, don’t worry. Oblivion’s bigger than you think—”

A loud noise like disturbed rocks falling echoed through the caverns.

“... and full of more souls than you can count," Will whispered, standing very still and listening.

ok I fix accent Sarvod Dravis​

 

[Sarvod Dravis]

"I'll take your word for it." This was far from his first stun-and-grab, but he'd yet to abduct a ghost.

Freezing at the sound and Will's whispered warnings, Sar remained quiet as he calmly, almost gently, did a final check on his modified blaster before lowering its muzzle back towards the ground. His background had given him more trigger discipline than the average merc - if he pointed his blaster at someone, chances were he had already decided to kill them. At that point, there'd be no minced words or empty bluster, only death.

It remained to be seen how effective such a solution would be against beings that were, at least potentially, already dead.

There was another clatter in the distance, accompanied by a faint wailing sound. Disharmonically multifaceted, he had heard nothing like it - and soon enough he knew why, as a writhing mass of interwoven souls drifted into sight, seemingly unaware of their presence.

"Looks like your side of the court." The mercenary urgently - but softly - whispered.​

William Wolfe​

 

[Amelia Ardahl]

Will was already in motion even as Sar whispered behind him. Turning toward the congregation of spirits—which was known to him as a vapor—the ghost reached up toward his face and did something which he was careful to hide from the mercenary’s view.

The legion scattered. Perhaps this was not to their advantage, since now they could attack the pair from all sides, but whatever Will had done to them, the souls were left in disarray, flying around tittering and shrieking like bloodless birds. An aura of fear permeated the broken vapor like the smell of sweat, invisible to Sar, but quite noticeable to Will.

“Should probably try and get some information out of them,” Will said, his voice somehow perfectly audible despite all the noise around them. He caught one of the spirits by the tail and reeled it in, wrapping the tail around his clenched fist like a kite’s string to keep it from escaping. The soul he selected was colorless and gray, like all the others, their individual attributes having long since faded away as they forgot who they were in life.

“You know the Maestro?” he asked. “I’m part of his family.”

“W-wh-wha-what?” the spirit stammered in a dry, withered voice like autumn leaves crinkling underfoot. “What do you want from me?”

“You heard anything about Omni and his drones?”

At the mention of the name, however, the spirit yanked hard, trying to escape. Will grimaced, his grip remaining firm. “Answer me, you damned afterlight—”

“Omni has no use for us,” the spirit wailed. “To him we’re just errors to be erased. So we try to get away...”

“Which way did you come from?”

“Don't know, don't know... big desert, and before that the domain of a loa... used to be, anyway, before Omni got a hold of them. Now they serve him..."

Will let the spirit slip free from his grasp. It rejoined the others as their vapor reformed and sped away like a fast-moving cloud.

Sarvod Dravis​

 

[Sarvod Dravis]

Once it was clear that the amalgamation posed little threat, Sar's grip on his blaster relaxed. Somewhat. There were overconfident mercenaries out there, but they rarely live long enough to enjoy the credits they earned, let alone retire. Not that Sar was planning to retire any time soon.

Maybe once he could buy a private island somewhere nice, complete with a bunker and supplies to last him several decades.

"Huh, neat. I'm guessing not all the locals are that cooperative?" This loa certainly seemed a matter worthy of some consideration, if not concern. The last thing he needed was to be forced to deal with a greater spirit of some kind - something told him the ghost couldn't handle it.

"Any ideas on how to avoid the attention of the biggest fish in the pond?" They would reach the desert, soon, and Sar would be richly compensated for capturing a drone. There was no way in hell he was going to risk his life seeking out one more potent than he had to.

Some hirelings went above and beyond; Sar honoured the letter of the contract unless there were bonuses in play.​

William Wolfe​

 

[Amelia Ardahl]

"Huh, neat. I'm guessing not all the locals are that cooperative?"

“Afterlights don’t have anything to lose. They’re just echoes of beings that once lived. Most of ‘em don’t even remember who they were or what they looked like.”

They traveled together in vapors because they unconsciously sought spiritual union like that of being one with the Force—which is what should’ve happened when they died. But for one reason or another, they wound up in the Netherworld instead… and this world was no more where they were supposed to be than the last one.

“But you’re right. Most of the locals have heard of the Maestro. He’s someone who commands a certain amount of respect. You claim to be his associate, most will at least give you plenty of room.”

Not that there weren’t plenty who had reason to resent the Maestro, or at least didn’t give a damn who you served. Will certainly wouldn’t expect warm welcomes and friendly smiles everywhere he went, but people, even dead ones, tend to be more tolerant of the familiar.

Will rested his hands on his hips. The lines of worry in his brow had become more prominent than usual. “As for this loa, I assume they’re talkin’ about Marinette. I am not takin’ you anywhere near her whether she’s been turned into a drone or not.”

Loas were strange spirits even among the denizens of the Nether, existing in a halfway state between deities and saints. They didn’t possess the living, they “rode” them, the way one rides a beast of burden. Marinette in particular was a frightening thing who used people to commit acts of violence.

“What this does mean is that there are drones nearby, so we’re on the right track. I suggest we get goin’.” Hovering above the ground, he dove toward the cavern exit at top speed.

Sarvod Dravis​

 

[Sarvod Dravis]

The brief introduction to spiritual politics, as it were, was more or less lost on Sarvod. It was not that he lacked the ability to understand such matters, per se, but rather that he simply did not put in the effort unless the job demanded it. In this particular case, the Maestro paid his bills and anyone else was either a roadbump or an asset to exploit. He had no desire to stay in the Netherworld longer than he had to and no need to make friends.

"Copy that, stay clear of the loa." William was the expert, he was more knowledgeable in battle droids, mercs, and Corpo motivations.

Adopting a light jog to the ghost's flying, Sar advanced step by steady step, armoured soles rolling over the terrain with the expertise of one who knew how to wear armour - and how to avoid announcing his armoured state with the graceless clambering of ill-trained infantry.

When it came, the transition between cavern and desert was smooth - for the most part. The caves and chains faded away normally enough, but he noted a spike in temperature that did not seem entirely natural, at the exact point of transition. Even thermodynamics was wonky here.​

William Wolfe​

 

[Koh Su]

​

Koh Su had come to realize that the universe had a kind of humor to it.

A gate to the primordial plane, a nexus of natural energies, hung over the metallic scrapyard and foundries of Mechis III as if to mock the history and innovation of mortal beings. All things of Halrormalenth were flawed under the light of Nogras, and the great truth of Sargon would be ushered in by the changes wrought by Balagoth. Changes which took a curious slant into the mechanical, it was clear that Balagoth - Omni - had elected for an era of adoption, whereby even the Gods held machines sacred. Koh Su had found such ideals to be insulting initially, but who was she to judge the pastimes of the gods, except to hold them in contempt for holding their children out of reach of their glory?

The journey from deep within the putrid filth of the Denon slums to deep within Confederate territory had been full of tests, both physical and spiritual. She was oblivious to the greater politics of the galaxy, though noted the difficulty of entry into the southern borders of the galaxy had been far more stringent than if she had chosen a different set of borders to cross.

The path was not meant to be easy, but it was supposed to be expedient. The Primeval Gods had alluded their faithful for too long to give pause and comfort her journey, and so the most direct path, (perhaps even the most violent) was the only solution she would accept. It was on this journey that she came to discover the latent gifts that came with her newest incarnation. As easily as a beast follows its stomach, without ever understanding what drove the machines she came to cross, they obeyed her intentions. Scanners and databases made specifically to suss out her place of origin seem to give her clearance enough to make it through the Confederate borders and eventually, through the Mechis Hypergate itself.

As the first Confederate explorers perished beyond the gate in the land of the divine, Koh Su and her two companions found a safe haven among the denizens of The Dead One, the God-Omni.

​

"Koh Su," A female Kel Dor Priestess known as Dhi Tu, an adviser to her journey, said to garner her attention. From a sleepless rest, she looked upon the alien who was peering over the crest of their camp, looking out to a point on the horizon, and rose to meet her level. Nearby, a fellow True Believer slept in the sand, the form of their species obscured by heavy cybernetics, and various clothes wrapped around them to protect them from the sand, almost taking on the appearance of some mummified ghoul.

"A breather on the horizon. Might be an associate of your stalker following our trail from the caverns." She said, adopting a kind of slang since entering Oblivion to distinguish from the dead, as well as referencing a particularly relentless pursuer... Looking for herself, she could tell this figure was not likely the one hunting her (her son) but nonetheless felt the taste of heresy surrounding them, even at this distance.

"Wake Sai. I believe these interlopers haven't been properly introduced to the faith." That particular phrase she used held many meanings, and she loved it for its versatility. For some, it meant exactly as the words are expected to mean. In other cases, it meant a rather sudden education on the Primeval concept of reincarnation. What that meant in a realm where the dead roamed as its regular denizens, was anyone's guess.

Some small part of Koh Su was dying to test this experiment...

Sarvod Dravis William Wolfe

 

[Amelia Ardahl]

“Unless you intend to become a bocor,” Will’s voice trailed behind him as he darted through the cave exit. Bocors were the sorcerers-slash-priests that served loas.

The ghost hardly noticed the shift in temperature as they emerged from the caverns and into the desert. Full of rolling hills and mountains, the landscape was barren and devoid of plant or animal life. The dirt beneath Sar’s boots was a dark purple color and as fine as sand. Large chunks of glass rose up out of the dirt, jagged enough to pose a danger should one brush against their sharp edges. Far from being oppressively hot, the atmosphere was freezing cold and buffeted by icy winds.

Will remained airborne, hovering over the glass-strewn sands and peering toward the horizon. There were many ways they could go, more directions than there were on a compass, in fact. The variety of choices was daunting, and as he floated back down to the ground he outstretched an arm and snapped his fingers. The sound echoed through the valley as he requested his master’s aid—

But there was no time to listen for a reply, for dark, fast-moving shapes had appeared on the horizon. A blaster bolt seared through the air, passing harmlessly through Will’s spectral form, turning the dust behind him into fresh glass. The ghost simply raised an eyebrow.

“I believe this is your prerogative, Mr. Dravis.”

Sarvod Dravis​

 

[Sarvod Dravis]

There was something oddly comforting about the fact that even in the Netherworld, people would still try to shoot you.

As much as he might plan to one day retire from his line of work, he would be lying to himself if he did not admit to enjoying it. The razor-sharp move from moment to moment, adrenaline and stimulants pumping through his veins, senses sharpening as he perched on the edge, his life on the line.

It was more intoxicating than any drug.

Crouching down to lower his profile, Sar was moving far before the ghost finished its sentence, though he did not immediately fire. Instead, quick fingers tinkered with the calibration on his rifle, adjusting for distance and environmental factors while blaster bolts rained around them - once he was finally satisfied, he paused his evasive action, marked the target in his scope, held his breath, and pressed the trigger.

One thump, one bolt, one hostile down - and half a dozen more to go.

Sar did not know who they were and did not much care.​

Koh Su | William Wolfe​

 

[Amelia Ardahl]

Unable to do much against the living in this case, Will hung back, observing as Sar fired a single carefully-aligned shot at the group.

When one of their number went down, the other five figures sped up their advance. The closer they got, the more details could be picked out—but these details were bewildering rather than enlightening. For one, they wore many colors and bore the insignias of several different factions. One even appeared to be a Bryn’adul, their crustacean form gleaming blood red against the lilac sands.

Even more startling, the soldiers seemed to hold little regard for their physical bodies, charging forward en masse even if Sar continued to fire upon them. Finding the mercenary’s pace too relaxed anyway, Will felt the last of his misgivings about interfering fall away as he made a decision.

He launched himself toward the group, diving head-first into the first body he made contact with. His intention was to “body surf”, a practice whereby he would leap from host to host, possessing them just enough to render them unconscious, until he had knocked the lights out of all of them. There was just one problem.

ERROR ERROR
¡ANOMALY DETECTED!

There was something very, very wrong with the first host’s brain.

Will jerked himself free, hopping to the next soldier right as she raised her blaster to aim at Sar. Same issue—except she seemed to have been forewarned of Will’s presence by the last one. Even if the explanation was simple telepathy, their minds were like machines, easily and instantly passing data along to each other. He saw now that even their movements were coordinated, controlled and overseen by… no, there was nothing controlling them, not directly. They each had a mind of their own, but all driven towards the same common purpose.

The rewriting or erasure of anomalies like them.

To his horror, the consciousness of the woman recognized his presence despite his efforts to subdue her and reached for him. He had to struggle to free himself from her, but he could feel her still reaching as surely as if she had sprouted claws... or perhaps barbs that were digging—digging their way into him like boneworms—!

Sarvod Dravis Koh Su​

 

[Darlyn Excron]

Time was no straight line, it bent and curved and caved under the weight of stars. The fabric of reality itself could and did distort not only the concept of time, but the very function of time. Spend a few days orbiting a black hole, and one could suddenly awaken to find years have passed for a loved one. They grow, age, and move on with life without you... while you just wonder how your child has grown up so fast. That was time, how it functioned in the world of the living, and so too within the realm of death.

Others had already grown here, finding themselves lost in the crisis of old, only to awaken to a plane of incomprehensible suffering. Time here, too, was being manipulated, weighed down. There was a difference, though... this realm had a different idea of dialating time. For some, it was as if they orbited the black hole... for others they were the loved ones aging and dying alone. Spending a decade here could mean anything in the living world.

Darlyn always wondered how long it had been for them.

... But musing on time was long since abandoned by the darksider, it didn't exactly do much to help his situation. Better to focus on survival, and growing strong. That was what had brought him through to this place, this part of the Netherworld... Survival and strength. He wasn't strong enough yet to rip open the veil into the living world, most certainly not with any certainty of where he was clawing his way out into. Could be the middle of Mustafar for all he could know.

And if the whispers he'd heard were true, there might be a way back here. He didn't have any particular hope for it, but he had noticed a very recent uptake in, less than polite company. It would match up, and he really didn't have anything to lose.


So imagine his surprise after so very long traveling, to not only sense others on the horizon as he just began to reach the sands, but to hear blaster fire. Blasters! Now he was no genius, but blasters weren't the usual choice of weapon for a corpse's detached soul, whicheant there were still more living here than he'd anticipated.

Darlyn stilled his breathing slowly drawing the Force into his body, filling the nooks and crannies with every drop he could. This place messed with him when he arrived, but taking it slow usually worked to mitigate that. Not entirely, of course... his senses failed to notice another group past the horizon, only those he'd begun to narrow in on. But it did manage to allow his Body to activate, suffused with the energies to sustain it, enhance it.

Drawing his Westar 34's, the armored man began to sprint straight at the group, knowing it may still take some moments before he could do anything. He just had to hope that whoever was the 'good guy' here wasn't his first target. Granted, of course, as he drew closer he recognized the rag tag band that included a Bryn'adul, and were all ganging up on a lone gunman. Well, if they weren't the bad guys he'd eat his shoe.

Just barely into any 'range', the beskar clad Darlyn began to open fire into the group, coming at an angle that had likely until now been in their blind spot. Expectedly his short range pistols weren't of much use, but they could give the long gun user breathing room for another shot.

Sarvod Dravis :|: William Wolfe :|: Koh Su

 

[Sarvod Dravis]

Well, this was a fething mess. Blasters put them down as expected, but whatever his guide was attempting was evidently not working out - a sudden entrance and just as sudden departure, another entrance and that was it, at least for the moment. Not great when outnumbered.

There was a bright side to the matter at hand, of course; these might well be the drones he was looking for - and backup had arrived.

Sar had no clue who the Mandalorian was or what they were after, but anyone shooting at the other side was good in his book. Even if their aim could use some work. Scrambling backwards while firing his rifle, the experienced merc took down another target but received a pair of blaster bolts for his efforts, the armour thankfully handling the brunt of it even as it came out notably worse for wear.

He was pretty sure he'd be dealing with a bad case of scorched torso if it weren't for his subdermal armouring.

Acquiring just a bit of cover behind a dune, a lined up another shot and sent a bolt through the Bryn'Adul warrior's right shoulder; if any of them had to be altered to obey, it was the genocidal crab. It was his best bet at securing a genuine "drone" - now where the hell was his ghost?​

William Wolfe | Darlyn Excron | Koh Su​

 

[Amelia Ardahl]

For a fleeting moment, as Omni’s forces got to work rewriting him, Will had a sudden sense of the Maestro calling to him from across the great beyond. But the spectral cries of Will, what’s wrong Will? were torn to pieces and scattered somewhere along the way, the signal garbled.

The astral cord connecting Will to the Maestro was stretched taut and then severed with all the casual efficiency of a pair of scissors snipping a thread. It hurt the way cutting off a connection established nearly a century ago aches. But Will understood the pain, in a distant, unfeeling way. He could only serve one master, not two.

When the job was done (and it didn’t take long at all), the drone let him go. Will drifted out of her body and away from the fighting group. The Draelvasier bucked as a bullet struck his shoulder, then charged toward Sar with a roar of rage, brandishing a large, jagged blade. Rewritten or not, pain was pain, and he would end the source of his or die trying.

Will dove toward Sar, doing his best to outrun the furious Bryn. Nothing about him had visibly changed that would tip Sar off that something wasn’t quite right. But Omni knew Will couldn’t keep up the ruse for long. The Maestro would certainly be suspicious, so there was no going home and pretending nothing had happened. No, best to stay here in Oblivion, draw the Maestro and his "family" here on a quest to save their fallen friend, only to rewrite them all...

He dove into Sar's body as though to possess him. If the unholy symbiosis of machine and man didn't prevent him (and it shouldn't, now that he had the technopathy of all Omni's servants), he would rewrite the mercenary and thus save him from death. If not... well. His fate remained to be seen.

Sarvod Dravis Koh Su Darlyn Excron​

 

[Koh Su]

​

The trio of cultists skillfully meandered down from their camp, each carrying an assortment of weapons both material and spiritual. Slow acting disruptors smuggled in from The Wall, vibroblades with hidden power, and enchanted Talismans that aided them in their travels marked but a few of the trinkets they had brought to, and acquired in Oblivion.

Notably, however, Koh Su carried nothing but her body.

Dones some distance away became irate at the presence of a breather and went to strike out at the heresy. She and her believers drew weapons and focused their fire at the interloper, who skillfully took cover behind a sand dune. An experienced operator, and judging by the ease at which they struck the Bryn'Adul drone non-lethally, on par to some of the Shadowrunners she had witnessed on Denon... who had an objective. A spirit had attempted to possess that same Drone, and Koh Su fell upon divination of their motives.

As she was thinking this sliding down the sand, blaster bolts sprang out from behind her!

"Another?" She said, after reflexively outstretching her hand and stopping the path of a bolt on its way to her midsection, the globule of energy sizzling in the air. More blaster bolts flew, though the new woman looked at the product of her abilities curiously. The gifts of her gods always turned up to her as a mystery. She took this to mean she continued to walk the divine path, and approach closer to the hidden places of the gods.

"I will grant you a Primeval revelation!" She shouted as she broke from her group and launched herself towards Darlyn Excron , the rest of her group continued to be focused on Sarvod Dravis . She flung the frozen blaster bolt back towards Darlyn, and landed in the sand nearby after her inhuman leap through the air.

William Wolfe now connected to Omni would recognize something odd about one of his new allies, the one known as Koh Su was a drone just as he was, but the manifestation of her loyalty was all wrong. She did not recognize Omni to be a Droid God as he was, but instead a manifestation of her old gods. Her loyalty was tenuous, complicated, and not nearly as firm as the other drones present. As if she served by choice alone, a conviction of belief, rather than genuinely a part of the collective. Connected, yet separate.

A curious oddity.

 

[Darlyn Excron]

A real mess indeed this was! Unknown to Darlyn as of yet, the spirit had already become another cog in Omni's machine. A cog thst was now attempting to convert the other living individual he had come with, all while the drones continued to focus on him. Well, save one, who had devoted her attention to him now, and in the process did something that genuinely caught the man off guard. "She froze my blaster bolt in midair! Since when do we get to do that? Gods that was just, really fething cool."

There wasn't much else he could do for Sarvod Dravis . He did at least attempt to use his powers to project into his mind the ear blasting message 'RUN', with hope at least he would be able to tend to himself. Whether that actually would help him in regards to the possession taking place? Well that remained to be seen. It wasn't like he was aware of that situation to begin with.

More pressingly, Koh Su was leaping at him. Had he his real weapon, this would've been a suicidal maneuver... however he was without his blade. As such he would have to shoot her, but doubted he could given that trick with the bolt she'd now redirected at him. Instead, he put his right blaster in its holster, and focused his willpower there. He'd get her on the landing, yes.

The bolt pinged off his armor, causing a noticable little impact though unsurprisingly the beskar held up more than admirably. The real fun moment though, that came moments later. She'd shouted about some kind of revelation she'd give? Well then...

"And I will grant you pain!" That... was cooler sounding in his head. Oh well, time to strike regardless. He outstretched his hand, and purple lightning began to spark and jump out from his hand. However, suddenly their energy skyrocketed, and the purple bolts suddenly seemed to burn a vibrant crimson as they scorched the air between Darlyn and Koh Su. For once, the chaotic Netherworld decided to grace him.

William Wolfe