OPEN MAIN STORY Cosmic Madness -- Conflict in the Lands Between

[Wade von Mackensen]

~~GM~~

The Sentinel didn't stand a chance. While it was able to deflect Taney's gunfire with its shield, once Jill expertly lined up the shot, the knight fell like a tree who's roots could no longer support its own weight. Everyone that attacked after brutalized the Sentinel, bombarded with attacks so fierce and staggering, it was a miracle there was anything left of it once they finally stopped. Its armor was battered, burnt and dented, and when there were no signs of life left in the poor knight, its body began to vanish into a blast of ashes and sparkling dust. Its horse, now without a master, galloped away in fear.

"Very well done," the white masked man said to the team, even clapping for them, "Tree Sentinel's are not easily befallen, but with your combined efforts, it seemed to barely stand a chance. Maybe there is hope for you yet to defeat Godrick." Finally, with a bow, he introduced himself. "I am Varre. Servant to another lord here. You stand along the western borders of Limgrave, one of many sovereignties in The Lands Between. Others like you have appeared across our world, but you are the first to have come through the stone Godrick had obtained not long ago. As for your friend, he remains trapped inside Godrick's liar. In what state, however, is entirely unknown. Unless he has information best suited for Godrick, he may very well end up as yet another Grafted Scion in his growing army."

"Why help us?" Bond asked. There was nothing he could really do to add to the attacks on the Tree Sentinel. It seemed pretty well at hand. "What benefit does it serve you?"

"You are not the only ones after Godrick," Varre answered, "there has been a long-standing conflict between Godrick and his siblings. One of which is my lord. But as well, there are forces from other worlds gathering along our shores to begin their own conquests of our lands. Without aid, we are sure to be overwhelmed. And as our interests align in seeing Godrick fall and the world stone taken from his possession, I offer up my services as a delegation."

 

[Goonfire]

​

Direct hit. Jill kept her rifle trained on the knight until the dust settled and the team confirmed the kill. At the same time, Oliver appeared, somehow among the last people to make it through the crystal. "The General's been captured," she replied gravely to his question. "It only felt like a moment, but it must've been longer over here."

The entire situation felt... problematic; even the problems had problems. Another force was showing up on this continent's shores during a power struggle and the Scattered Corps's invasion? "So Godrick has to prep for war on two fronts? That never works out." People from present-day Earth knew about the most prolific example—a certain angry, insecure little man who split his forces between the Allies and the Soviets in the 1940s. "Who are these 'other forces' though?"

The thought of other lords at conflict with Godrick didn't sit well with the sergeant. Governments often had their secret agendas, and these siblings of his were no different. What exactly did they want, beyond simply stopping Godrick? She kept quiet, but that didn't stop her incredulous glances towards Varre.

 

[Wade von Mackensen]

"They are mostly unknown, even to me. However, I can tell you where they are amassing their forces throughout the continent," Varre answers. "Gates that glow of red have formed across the southern coast of the Weeping Peninsula. The road leading to it can be found west of where we stand now. The demons that march from those gates have taken Castle Morne, but have yet to make any further progress into Limgrave for unknown reasons. In Caelid, the neighboring region further north-east, boats filled with rodent beasts have started plundering what they can of the poisonous swamps, but have made little progress. Caelid is a diseased land that has only brought death as of late, but thankfully now acts as a barrier between The Lands Between and these invaders."

"Such fortune cannot be said for the Altus Plateau. Appearing from the Windmill Pastures, a legion of dark sorcerers and knights have taken miles of land, reaching from The Shaded Castle, all the way to the outer walls of our Royal Capital, Leyndell. Thankfully, the crumbled ruins of the Highway Junction has stopped their march from going any further, and must advance through the Woodfolks ruins. Which has caused them nothing but trouble thus far. Of these nightmarish creatures, I have heard them be named 'Darkspawn.' This is to say nothing of the other lords of these lands. Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy, has begun regathering his strength in the Volcano Manor to begin an offensive against the 'Darkspawn,' while Godrick, once he has successfully defended his home, will begin an invasion of Linuria to take the Academy of Raya Lucaria. I have even heard whispers amongst my lord's scouts that a long-lost child of the nobility has found means to return to these lands from his imprisonment. Messmer. And he will surely bring his army to burn away anything he deems to be stripped of Golden Grace. There are surely more that even I am unaware of."

 

[thesuprememachine]

​

The machine of war rose up from below, it's chassis absorbing the blood of the now vanquished "Sentinel." The enemy was logged into it's database, as the first enemy of this new land to be logged. Which would be useful, as it could now understand Tree Sentinel's much easier for future encounters. The machine's feet still dripped with blood, leaving a trail of red liquid at it's quake. It's emotionless eye showed no remorse, guilt, or joy for killing the foe. For others, some would feel the slightest bit of guilt or pride in their actions. The creature of steel was different. It was designed to be the killing machine, essentially being a weapon. Not essentially, it is a weapon. This was shown in its first battle here. It killed plenty with its bare hands, and even more with a revolver and some coins.

It then initiated its voice protocol, which it had designed over the course of being here. Turns out needing a voice was necessary when actually semi-working in a team. But it always neglected its voice until it really wished to convey something. It was always quiet a good chunk of the time.

VOICE_PROTOCOL ACTIVATING...
INITIATING CONTACT WITH UNIDENTIFIED INDIVIDUAL.

It's head snapped towards the new.. friend? How the creature of steel viewed those around it was always hard to tell. However, it hadn't tried to kill him yet. That was a good sign. It took a few steps forward to them, making direct eye contact as it did. It's neck appendage whirred forward, making it's sight even more focused on him. It then spoke out.

"THESE BEINGS YOU SPEAK OF.. THESE DEMONS, RODENTS, AND EVEN THIS GODRICK INDIVIDUAL." it stopped for a moment, to "play" with a small thing of blood that had yet to be absorbed by its chassis. "DO THEY BLEED? THAT TREE SENTINEL DID. LEADING TO THE ASSUMPTION THAT SO DO ALL THE OTHER CREATURES OF THIS LAND." It's arm went straight up and pointed behind itself, to the vast lands that they had left to travel.

"FROM 1-10, HOW MUCH OF THIS WORLD'S POPULATION CONTAINS BLOOD?"

 

[Girania the Knightess]

Girania​

Girania absorbed the information with relative ease. It made sense that Godrick wasn't the only one with the idea to invade other worlds. She didn't know half of the places mentioned, but these "Darkspawn" sounded a lot like "Voidsent" if the otherworldly demons amassed properly, and were stuck by something as simple as broken architecture. Luckily, by the sound of it, this world's own factions had begun gathering to fight back. Granted, Varre mentioned it was more for conquest, but logically that would end up with the natives and the invaders warring with each other.

Right now, the group's current quest objective should be the main focus. Unless he had been pushed so far back that he and his army is stuck hiding in their own stronghold, there would be little to no interference from the other native warlords. Of course, there was also the possibility of more otherworldly warriors and armies getting in the way, but as a smaller group, unless everyone decided to mercilessly attack any random group of enemies along the way, they should have little trouble handling things... Yes, she did think this right before the automaton started asking about blood. Yes, this bodes ill. One step at a time.

"We also need directions to Godrick's stronghold. With one of us missing, we will need to hurry the mission along in order to find them."

 

[BazusoTheGrey]

"The General's been captured," she replied gravely to his question. "It only felt like a moment, but it must've been longer over here."

"Ah, so I guess we gotta get him back then. Simple enough. So what do yo-"

Hold on

Oliver abruptly pauses, staring directly into Jill's eyes, stock still. His arms which were animate, motioning as he spoke, freeze as well. What is it now?

You're a lieutenant. What's that got to do with anything? You outrank her. Ok? So? A lieutenant should not be seen taking orders from a subordinate. It would be unseemly. Motherfucker, you know that guy gave us that rank for like no reason right? How can you be so sure? You know that we are suffering from brain damage. You likely forgot the actual reason for our promotion, too preoccupied that you are with remembering names when you should focus on ranks. In any case, we- Aight before this continues, Oliver has paused for 5 entire seconds, please just carry on. Dude, the last time blue had a moment like this we got like six of our coworkers dead. Come on, they were a bunch of grade 9s anyway, besides Oliver got the other four out just fine, let blue have this. Fine, fuck.

Oliver suddenly continues, after a slight twitch with the head piece. That ain't good, "Never mind, carry on... subordinate. I will pass it along to our captain then." Oliver's intonation is very un-Oliver like. That is to say, it suddenly became deeper and lost a majority of its casual tone. Oliver begins to regret his decisions in real time.

Well, whatever. After doing a textbook about-face, the Fixer marches toward their group's captain and stands ramrod straight next to her silently, almost uncomfortably close. His Zweihander rests on his shoulder as if he were in a... parade stance, such as in the book 'Ancient History - for Kids' Chapter 6/59, 'Precursors to the modern-day Fixer'.

...When did we read that?

 

[LenxKaitoYaoi]

As the fight ended rather swiftly, Ziv took this brief encounter as a chance to at least better get acquainted with his fellow scattered's powers. Again, they proved themselves quite capable, no doubt behind what he could do. Their weaponry and technology continued to surprise and fascinate him. But that could be dealt with later.

Instead, the person that snuck up on them spoke up again to introduce themselves and explain further their situation. He didn't entirely like what he was hearing, though. They weren't the only other world travelers that have arrived to take on Godrick, and these others seem to have agendas of their own as well. A bit of information that could prove problematic for everyone… If anything, he almost felt bad for Godrick.

The crazy being from earlier spoke, cause Ziv to raise a brow. This one concerned him out of everyone so far. Bloodthirsty… with no true allegiance to anyone. It could prove to slaughter them all at any given time should it be left unchecked. Another problem.

He tilted his head at Oliver's pause, but given the man's ultimate decision not to press whatever he had been thinking about, he moved on. Thankfully there was another voice of reason among them, so when Girania spoke up, he nodded in agreement. She had the right of it, there was too much going on for them to try tackling it all. One thing at a time was going to be hard enough, but their missing ally should be priority right now. They'll need him. Probably. "Agreed. Having all of us together would be better before we start trying to take on any other objectives or battles."

 

[Wade von Mackensen]

View attachment 267890​

The machine of war rose up from below, it's chassis absorbing the blood of the now vanquished "Sentinel." The enemy was logged into it's database, as the first enemy of this new land to be logged. Which would be useful, as it could now understand Tree Sentinel's much easier for future encounters. The machine's feet still dripped with blood, leaving a trail of red liquid at it's quake. It's emotionless eye showed no remorse, guilt, or joy for killing the foe. For others, some would feel the slightest bit of guilt or pride in their actions. The creature of steel was different. It was designed to be the killing machine, essentially being a weapon. Not essentially, it is a weapon. This was shown in its first battle here. It killed plenty with its bare hands, and even more with a revolver and some coins.

It then initiated its voice protocol, which it had designed over the course of being here. Turns out needing a voice was necessary when actually semi-working in a team. But it always neglected its voice until it really wished to convey something. It was always quiet a good chunk of the time.

VOICE_PROTOCOL ACTIVATING...
INITIATING CONTACT WITH UNIDENTIFIED INDIVIDUAL.

It's head snapped towards the new.. friend? How the creature of steel viewed those around it was always hard to tell. However, it hadn't tried to kill him yet. That was a good sign. It took a few steps forward to them, making direct eye contact as it did. It's neck appendage whirred forward, making it's sight even more focused on him. It then spoke out.

"THESE BEINGS YOU SPEAK OF.. THESE DEMONS, RODENTS, AND EVEN THIS GODRICK INDIVIDUAL." it stopped for a moment, to "play" with a small thing of blood that had yet to be absorbed by its chassis. "DO THEY BLEED? THAT TREE SENTINEL DID. LEADING TO THE ASSUMPTION THAT SO DO ALL THE OTHER CREATURES OF THIS LAND." It's arm went straight up and pointed behind itself, to the vast lands that they had left to travel.

"FROM 1-10, HOW MUCH OF THIS WORLD'S POPULATION CONTAINS BLOOD?"

"Oh, quite a lot of it," Varre answered V1, his tone lowering in revelry, "you will find many beings here that bleed. The only few that don't are Those Who Live in Death. Vile creatures that are born from the now unholy remains of a former lord of this land. Godwyn the Golden." It was V1's psychotic fascination with the blood it played between its fingers that caused Varre's interest in the cyborg to grow.

Could they be another 'scattered' to receive his lords Favor? Only time would tell.

Girania​

Girania absorbed the information with relative ease. It made sense that Godrick wasn't the only one with the idea to invade other worlds. She didn't know half of the places mentioned, but these "Darkspawn" sounded a lot like "Voidsent" if the otherworldly demons amassed properly, and were stuck by something as simple as broken architecture. Luckily, by the sound of it, this world's own factions had begun gathering to fight back. Granted, Varre mentioned it was more for conquest, but logically that would end up with the natives and the invaders warring with each other.

Right now, the group's current quest objective should be the main focus. Unless he had been pushed so far back that he and his army is stuck hiding in their own stronghold, there would be little to no interference from the other native warlords. Of course, there was also the possibility of more otherworldly warriors and armies getting in the way, but as a smaller group, unless everyone decided to mercilessly attack any random group of enemies along the way, they should have little trouble handling things... Yes, she did think this right before the automaton started asking about blood. Yes, this bodes ill. One step at a time.

"We also need directions to Godrick's stronghold. With one of us missing, we will need to hurry the mission along in order to find them."

As the fight ended rather swiftly, Ziv took this brief encounter as a chance to at least better get acquainted with his fellow scattered's powers. Again, they proved themselves quite capable, no doubt behind what he could do. Their weaponry and technology continued to surprise and fascinate him. But that could be dealt with later.

Instead, the person that snuck up on them spoke up again to introduce themselves and explain further their situation. He didn't entirely like what he was hearing, though. They weren't the only other world travelers that have arrived to take on Godrick, and these others seem to have agendas of their own as well. A bit of information that could prove problematic for everyone… If anything, he almost felt bad for Godrick.

The crazy being from earlier spoke, cause Ziv to raise a brow. This one concerned him out of everyone so far. Bloodthirsty… with no true allegiance to anyone. It could prove to slaughter them all at any given time should it be left unchecked. Another problem.

He tilted his head at Oliver's pause, but given the man's ultimate decision not to press whatever he had been thinking about, he moved on. Thankfully there was another voice of reason among them, so when Girania spoke up, he nodded in agreement. She had the right of it, there was too much going on for them to try tackling it all. One thing at a time was going to be hard enough, but their missing ally should be priority right now. They'll need him. Probably. "Agreed. Having all of us together would be better before we start trying to take on any other objectives or battles."

"Yes, I don't suppose you would have a map on you, would you?" Bond chimed in with Ziv and Girania. Who knows how much time de Wiart had as captive in a mad lords dungeon.

"Indeed I do!" Varre exclaimed happily, pulling out a weathered map from his pockets and handing it over to Bond to unfold.

​

"So if we're here," Bond pointed to where they were on the map, right at the eastern edge of the lake, "then once we pass that church across the way, we just follow the road all the way to the castle walls. Then go from there on how to infiltrate it. I take it we can expect heavy traffic?" Bond asked Varre.

"There is an encampment that guards the gate leading through the pass, but after that, I could not say how guarded the roads become." Varre answered.

 

[Rolling Steel Brick]

~~GM~~

The Sentinel didn't stand a chance. While it was able to deflect Taney's gunfire with its shield, once Jill expertly lined up the shot, the knight fell like a tree who's roots could no longer support its own weight. Everyone that attacked after brutalized the Sentinel, bombarded with attacks so fierce and staggering, it was a miracle there was anything left of it once they finally stopped. Its armor was battered, burnt and dented, and when there were no signs of life left in the poor knight, its body began to vanish into a blast of ashes and sparkling dust. Its horse, now without a master, galloped away in fear.

"Very well done," the white masked man said to the team, even clapping for them, "Tree Sentinel's are not easily befallen, but with your combined efforts, it seemed to barely stand a chance. Maybe there is hope for you yet to defeat Godrick." Finally, with a bow, he introduced himself. "I am Varre. Servant to another lord here. You stand along the western borders of Limgrave, one of many sovereignties in The Lands Between. Others like you have appeared across our world, but you are the first to have come through the stone Godrick had obtained not long ago. As for your friend, he remains trapped inside Godrick's liar. In what state, however, is entirely unknown. Unless he has information best suited for Godrick, he may very well end up as yet another Grafted Scion in his growing army."

"Why help us?" Bond asked. There was nothing he could really do to add to the attacks on the Tree Sentinel. It seemed pretty well at hand. "What benefit does it serve you?"

"You are not the only ones after Godrick," Varre answered, "there has been a long-standing conflict between Godrick and his siblings. One of which is my lord. But as well, there are forces from other worlds gathering along our shores to begin their own conquests of our lands. Without aid, we are sure to be overwhelmed. And as our interests align in seeing Godrick fall and the world stone taken from his possession, I offer up my services as a delegation."

Semper Paratus
​

Taney held her position for a brief moment, as she kept her main gun and Brownings trained on the Sentinel's corpse, then on the horse that fled after its rider's body disappeared in a light show. When the gilded animal disappeared over the hills, the cutter-turned-human slowly set her gun back into its place on her rigging. She could feel her body relax slightly - and by proxy, her crew - but she didn't let her guard down as she looked around. Painfully obvious to her eyes was not the urbanized port city of Baltimore, but instead rolling hills of grass, trees, and ancient ruins every so hundred feet.

The Coast Guard cutter took in her first proper breath as a human, a strange dichotomy between her newfound flesh and her innate steel hull - her twin boilers calmed down as her body loosened up. It felt strange to feel fabric on skin, the light breeze against her face, or the sensation of her weird footwear that dug into the dirt below her. For all that she was told about being a shipgirl by others, it was another whole deal to experience it for herself. Unfortunately, she would have to marvel her new senses later - she needed questions and there were people who could answer it.

"You guys there?" Taney asked, not to herself but to the crew inside her. A moment passed before someone responded.

Hey, hey, hey?

Her captain, and Taney wasn't sure which captain they were or if they were a composite amalgamation, had piped up. Despite their strange method of communication, the cutter could clearly understood what was said. A simple greeting and question. Rather than respond out loud like a madwoman-boat-thing, Taney tried to "mentally" continue the conversation.

So captain, Taney started, mind if you tell me how's everything on board? Crew and all?

It didn't take long as Taney received a laundry list of reports from her crew. As far as they knew, her stocks of ammo and supplies were full, her crew at top readiness, and she had been summoned as her 1966 refit. A surprise since most ships either came with their launch configuration or a late-war refit. None, at least from what Taney knew, were summoned in a post-WWII refit. Not even the museum ships, regardless if their intact hulls showed otherwise.

While a far cry from her godforsaken pre-WWII armaments - Taney would rather not have to use those old open-mount guns - there wasn't anything special about it aside from her radar and FCS. It did mean that her crew at least had relatively modern guns (compared to the 40s) stocked on her armory. Didn't stop from some of her crew members desire to actually have those souped up M4 carbines or a fancy autoloading shotgun. For now, retro M16A1 rifles and Ithaca shotguns will have to do.

Hey hey hey hey!

Right, the group of strange people and the potential for answers for what was going on.

With lookouts ready to alert Taney, the shipgirl briskly jogged over to where the congregation was. Every step left Taney bewildered, not at the fact she walked on land with propeller shoes with rudders, but that she had plain view of the people before her as she got closer. An eclectic mix of individuals of both the mundane and weird. The armed woman in the jacket was hardly a double-take sight nor was the other relatively normal-looking people any stranger than the land around Taney; though that Japanese woman had an odd firearm on hand, that large guy in black had something more to him, and the fantasy-dressed girl was... well dressed up like fantasy character... and also had furry bunny ears.

There was also the blue robot with a singular eye, someone who looked like they should be on a scifi drama set, and the robed masked weirdo that set off one too many red flags for Taney's comfort. The last member of the group, however, drew the both the cutter and her crew's attention. Clad in a fancy suit that look fresh and crisp in spite of the environment, with a look that had seduced more than fair number of ladies, and a rap sheet of foiling one too many Cold War plots was James Bond himself.

Or rather, the actor, Taney corrected herself. While her crew and herself had enjoyed plenty of films, as it was one of the few ways they stayed sane on those mind numbing ocean weather station runs, the shipgirl wasn't a huge film nerd like others. And she only had experience with the old films when she was still in service. Some faces she could put a name to, but not consistently so and not all of them. Thankfully, her crew was on the ball as they broke into excited whispers.

Hey heyhey hey hey hey-

"Christ, hold it guys," Taney muttered as she rubbed her temples. Too many voices, too much excitement. And one too many accusations of being an 'unenlightened soul' to the world of film history. "I get it, I get it, he's fuckin' Roger Moore, sue my ass."

The sight of the suited actor was an oddity, next to the people that looked like they could handle themselves. Taney could even spy the iconic suppressed pistol on him, which made some of her crew squeak in a few excited hey's. The cutter rolled her eyes as she scaled up the shallow grassy ramp to led to the group, a large and ancient square temple of stone behind them.

"Taney, United States Coast Guard," Taney said towards the group as she approached, her voice thick with authority as befitted of a patrol cutter. "'preciate the help with that knight back there. But I'd also appreciate if someone tells me what the hell is going on here."

She crossed her arms as she eyed the gathered people, her five-inch naval gun raised and pointed away from them. Though, she didn't cut an intimidating look with her short height, vintage navy uniform, and a youthful look that would have people mistaken her for a teenager.

"Hey!" another voice, high-pitched and feminine, shouted out. Taney glanced over to her left shoulder as she spotted one of her crew members, finally in person. Their appearance fit with what everyone back home had described them - small, androgygnous, always speaks a one word langauge decipherable by shipgirls alone, and matched the nationality of the ship. In Taney's case, the "fairy" crewmember that was on her shoulder was one of her enlisted sailors based off the patch on their dark undress blues. In their hands made Taney sigh.

"... and one of my crew would like to have, er, your autograph, sir," Taney said towards James Bond, not knowing that he was in fact not Roger Moore but the real deal.

 

[BazusoTheGrey]

"So if we're here," Bond pointed to where they were on the map, right at the eastern edge of the lake, "then once we pass that church across the way, we just follow the road all the way to the castle walls. Then go from there on how to infiltrate it. I take it we can expect heavy traffic?" Bond asked Varre.

"There is an encampment that guards the gate leading through the pass, but after that, I could not say how guarded the roads become." Varre answered.

The Fixer continued to stand ramrod still next to his... Captain, as they began talking to the masked guy about the surrounding area. In fact, the Fixer turned lieutenant was actually glowering at said guy while the rest talked at him. For what reason why? Only The Wings would know.

As the Captain's subordinate it is our imperative to assist her in her tasks. As she is questioning this suspect, it is only right that we play as the, 'bad cop' as Temperance would put it. As the suspect is sharing all of the information he knows, it is clearly working.

...uuuuuuuuuhhhhh, we can't actually tell, the guy hasn't changed posture, voice pitch or anything, like, once. A-Anyway that's beside the point, you're literally just standing here for no reason dude. Like, we could be doing anything right now... like, you know, talking with our coworkers, maintaining our equipment, that sorta thing? Like, there's an entirely new co-worker down there with a freaking gun attached to her hips, she's probably fucking rich or something man.

Hm, perhaps. But as the Captain's subordinate we would likely need to be granted leave before doing so, as this is her primary task-

"Taney, United States Coast Guard," Taney said towards the group as she approached, her voice thick with authority as befitted of a patrol cutter. "'preciate the help with that knight back there. But I'd also appreciate if someone tells me what the hell is going on here."

"... and one of my crew would like to have, er, your autograph, sir," Taney said towards James Bond, not knowing that he was in fact not Roger Moore but the real deal.

-then as her lieutenant, we must dispatch with tertiary distractions.

Yeah that's a better use of our time... wait DISPATCH?!

As the thought completes itself, Oliver has already turned around and is currently marching toward the lady in a fast and robotic pace. His Zweihander held in both hands, rests on the shoulder of his raincoat. Honestly speaking, if he installed red LEDs for the headpiece instead of the discount yellow ones, he'd make a really good Sweeper impression. Regardless, he's looking real spooky right now.

Wait, hold up, hold up. Just to be clear, you don't mean, dispatch, dispatch, right?!

Walking directly towards the girl Oliver bumps past Bond and mechanically stops, standing directly in front of him and just a couple paces away from the girl. Staring almost balefully downward towards the girl, he raises one mechanical limb, his left one, with full authority, hand in an open palm directly in front of her face. Raising his voice box's volume to the max, he announces out, "Your request for an autograph is denied as this is both the improper time and you have offered less than the stipulated amount of funds. If you would like an autograph, please join the line opening at 23:30 and ending at 23:59 with the required 1 million Ahn for the entry fee, and the requisite 2 million Ahn for the autograph itself. As an employee of this company, however, it is advised that you also bring identification for a 5% discount. Thank you."

 

[thesuprememachine]

​

The machine of war looked at Varre, now pleased with the fact that blood here is just as plentiful as it was back in Hell and on the Other Earth. The machine looked out into the vast distance, making some quick analyzations. But it was then cut off rather quickly, after seeing the woman who had initiated the combat between the group and the Tree Sentinel. She made her way forwards to the group, while muttering something under her breath that it's sensors couldn't quite pick up. It's optical sensor zoomed in on to her, trying to read her lips for further information; it couldn't quite make out what she had been saying. But it didn't seem like she was talking to herself.

She then made herself known to the group, stating her name and status. The machine knew about what used to be the United States Coast Guard. It had been pumped with knowledge about every nations army and government to know who it was fighting in the Great War, well, supposed to. It never saw any action on the battlements. The creature of steel watched Taney point her rather large gun away, rather interested in it. It made note to ask about it sooner or later.

V1 was smart, but it wasn't knowledgeable about social clues, but something told it now was a good time to also introduce itself. "AH, APOLOGIES. I AM MODEL VERSION-1, THE ONLY OF MY KIND TO BE PRODUCED. BUT IF YOU MAY, CALL ME 'V1'." V1's robotic voice rung out, still very much outdated for its complexity of its mechanisms and processors. It finally wiped the metallic blood off its fingers and onto its legs, and then pointed at its blue chest plate.

It's attention then turned to what Taney said to be her crew member behind the rest of the group, hurry towards them shouting out to them. Apparently, they wanted an autograph from the suited man. It's head slowly turned to him, who referred to himself as James Bond, trying to analyze him and how he was of importance for people to want an autograph.

> INITIALIZING INDIVIDUAL ANALYZATION...
> ERROR. UNABLE TO LOCATE FACIAL PATTERNS IN DATABASE. INDIVIDUAL IS NOT LOGGED IN DATABASE.
> LOG INDIVIDUAL? Y/N
> Y
> LOGGING...

So, the machines search was unsuccessful. Peculiar. Who was this man? Had the two of them been from the same universe, and maybe he was a person of respect and fame? It's processors whirred loudly, using its strong computing power to figure out everything it could.

It was, once again, interrupted. It was what seemed to behave like another machine, but had to been a much older model than itself. It moved rather stiffly, unlike the other machines it saw in Hell, with the exception of the Drones. Those had been made with accuracy in mind, not flexibility.

They behaved almost like a bodyguard of sorts, but it was hard to tell if they actually were Bond's bodyguard or was just automatically protecting the highest ranking person in the group. But, when it watched the way it behaved with Taney, it reactively lifted its hand and smacked its front portion of its head.

>"..HOW OLD IS THIS GUY?" The machine thought to itself.

 

[Otomos]

It seems that this land was much like Chika's homeland, currently called Heathmoor by the Knights: filled with seemingly endless wars. And much like her homeland, this place too was not allowed to be idle for a long amount of time. From the surrounding area and ruins alone, Chika could glean that the had been large battles waged here. Ruins and overgrowth imply that nature had attempted to retake what people had built, destroyed, and abandoned. They were signs thet there was a lull in the conflict that persisted for a long time. But this man in the mask explained that somehow large-scale war has begun again. This made her spirits restless. They wished to dance among the newly dead warriors and beasts as they drag them into the mass.

The individuals surrounding her spoke of random things. For a moment, they spoke of possible routes, but then proceeded to get sidetracked by Bond somehow. Chika knew not who the man was, nor did she care. he was another member of this group, and if the asked man were to be believed, they may end up walking right into the conflict of several armies. So, despite her hoarse voice and pestering spirits, she struggled to speak her mind.

"Must... act soon. War is... here."

She had to gasp between her sentences, as the pain of several days and nights of screaming and shouting returned with every word.

"We cannot be stuck... in an unrelated battle."