Terraform | The Lightbearers

Haaaaaaave you met El? - with @Elle Joyner

Ailoca was convinced during the last stretch of the fight she wasn’t going to survive, that the destruction of the Razer was going to cause massive destruction. Eili and Kili’s faces flashed through her head, and she pressed her head to the safety of the circuit board. But damn, Fulcrum, Tank, all of the mechs pulled through, working together to lower the threat to safety in the courtyard. No one in the mechs had passed. Ailoca survived. Ailoca survived an intergalactic battle.

She was ecstatic to be on the ground when Fulcrum landed. And she kept her promise, kissing the ground beneath her in praise and gratitude to whatever cosmic being was watching over her. Fulcrum rumbled at the response, presumably a laugh. There was a jumbling of words from Ailoca, particularly that she loved the massive hunk of metal and that she was blessed to have him be her mech, to even have him as a companion. She wasn’t sure if any of her words were sensical at the time, but she hoped that Fulcrum at least understood her sentiments and how fond she was of him.

She found herself seating herself to listen to the white haired woman, a beauty in her own right, but young and scared, attempting to keep herself composed despite the overwhelming stressors that must have been placed on her shoulders. Crossing her legs and respectfully cupping her hands over her knee, a voice broke through to her. She tentatively turned her head in the man’s direction. Withered by life, his eyes beautiful and haunting and if Ailoca hadn’t known any better she would have continued to stare. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes threatening to burn with his question.

She was Eleazar Stone’s wife. This man recognized her. Knew him. Swallowing the lump in her throat that threatened to strangle her, she gave him a weary bob. Adrenaline still dully pulsed through her veins, causing her forearms to tense and sting. “He is my husband. Yes. Were you a friend of the his?”

“For a brief time, yeah…” The man continued, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed a lump of nerves. Fidgeting, hands crossing and uncrossing together, he kept his gaze lowered… averted, submissively, so, “Wasn’t a whole lot of good about the mines in Fandrigal… But Eleazar? He got most of us through it. And when the shaft caved and we thought we were done for, he helped us escape. Kept the Cult off our backs, single-handedly. Hell of a man, your husband. Swore on my life I’d go back for him, someday, but I uh…” Rubbing his shoulder, he shrugged, “I’m no soldier…”

Ailoca inhaled sharply, pressing her thumb underneath her eye, hoping to slow any process of grief that could have expressed itself on her face. She offered the strange man a kind smile, keeping her hands firmly folded in her lap. “He was the...he is the incredible. He would give life for another, and he has a beautiful soul.” Nibbling the inside of her cheek, her light green eyes darted to the ground below. “Do not...do not the stress on that. He the understands. I told myself same thing, long time go. He will be the okay. I will the find him one day. Swear on my grave.”

“Oh, I don’t have any doubts. You’re very brave. Th...the way you lot handled those machines out there. Took down that ship.” Looking up for the first time, he smiled faintly, “And hey, who knows. Only escaped a few weeks back. Might be he’s still there in the mines, you know?”

“Oh, I did not do the taking of outs. That was Nef.” She offered him a sheepish smile, she noticed a glimmer of hope in his smile, and for a moment her heart jumped in her chest at the thought. “That is...that is the possible. You have coordinates for where you the were in there? He is the strong, he could survive…” Silian’s words came to mind, the idea that this was some sort of disillusion disheartening to the young woman. But she refused to believe he was dead. If he was gone, Ailoca would have died of heartbreak. She would have felt him leave. She swore it on her life.

“Survive? Oh, I don’t half doubt it. They’re keepin’ him alive for sure. Watched a man take a blazer to the chest for droppin’ a fork durin’ mess. Your husband? No offense meant, but he caused all kinds of worse trouble and they never touched him. Wouldn’t lay a finger… My guess is it has somethin’ to do with the whole Conversion thing they’ve been talkin’ about.” Shrugging again, the man shifted, “But yeah, I could probably get you the location, easy enough. My… my directional sense is a bit wonky, all things considered… but I can still read a map.”

“Oh the God, you think the Cult has him?” Her heart dropped in her chest at the thought. It made more than enough sense. If he had gotten out and was surviving the mines on his own, he would have been able to get a distress call out by now. Knowing the Cult, knowing who was in the cult...she swore a small part of her wanted to find a safe place to scream. She placed her hand over her mouth before lowering it to cup her cheek, her heart slamming against her chest. “What is the Conversion thing? If you can read the map we can the get there….” Ailoca swallowed. It may have been irresponsible, especially now that she had a full team but...there was Elie…

And a chance to do damage to the cult itself. “Oh, the thank you, dear sir, thank you-”

“I know they do. Saw it with my own eyes. They’ve got us in the mines day and night, but Eleazar? There was a group, you know? Picked special. Cult kept an eye on them, made sure they were healthy… well fed.” Sinking into himself a little he frowned, “Don’t know much about it. Just heard them talkin’ about it once or twice. Your husband? There was this real nasty Cultist, Jamar… Always pickin’ on the smaller ones. Had a thing for it, if you know what I mean? Anyway… Your husband, he took Jamar to the edge of the canyon deep in the mines and just… chucked him right off. We all thought he was done for after that. Showed up at Mess the next day, not a scratch on him. Heard one of the guards mumbling about it later, how he couldn’t wait till Conversion. When he could finally stop coddling the special ones. I asked Eleazar, but he didn’t seem to know what it was about.”

“Oh, that is Elie…” She mused, a light snort escaping her at the image. It still hurt her deeply with this knowledge, but he was alive. He was alive and captive and she needed to find him immediately. God, he was alive. She just prayed he knew that she was okay, that she was going to find him, that she was going to bring them home so he could meet his children. His children were going to have a father. “Conversion...you do not the think they want to turn him to cultist?” She questioned, horror at the idea as it flashed into her head. “W-was he the okay when you s-saw him? You said he was the fed? Oh my the God, oh, we need to the find him the soon as the possible…” Her words became more and more jumbled as stress over took her head. She placed her hand over her forehead, trying to calm her breathing.

“Can’t imagine it’s that…” The man chuckled lightly, “All things considered, he wouldn’t turn willingly. He was fine last I saw him, though… Little scuffled from the cave in, but otherwise, seemed totally healthy. Get me a map of Fandrigal, and I can draw you the coordinates.”

“Oh thank the God. I can find a map for you..I do not know if I have the one but Fulcrum may be able to the help...or pretty lady could be of help.” She commented, shoulders slumped. She wasn’t sure if her new found team was going to agree to this. She only recognized one...one who she loved dearly(But could never say so out loud), but the rest were strangers. She ran her fingers through her hair. “I will the get you it. T-thank you. Thank you for the help.”

“Sure thing. I mean… I owe you. You guys saved the day, today. You and Eleazar? Hell of a match, miss. Really. It’s an honor to have known you both.” Shakily, almost as uneasily as he’d approached, the man held out a hand, “Thank you.”

“You the owe me nothing. This is the more than enough.” She gratefully grasped his hand, shaking it before raising it to kiss his knuckles in appreciation. She released him as soon as she had held on. “I do not the think I got your name or gave the proper intro the duction, sir.”

Blushing, the man stammered for a moment, before raking his hand through his hair, “Uh… Ky-Kyrian. No last name. I…. I was born into it. The Slavers Union. N-not really sure what to do, now that I’m out, you know?”

“Oh! I am...the terrible of sorries. Kyrian is the beautiful name.” She reassured him easily, before tilting her head at him. “How did you the know I was Elie’s wife? That and the...if you need the place, there is station I live with free room.”

“He has a picture of you.” Smiling faintly, Kyrian shrugged, “One of the guards tried to take it once, and he just about smashed the guy’s face in. Before we got out, he made us promise if we made it to the border, to the Rebel hideout, that we were to look for you. Tell you he was safe and comin’ home.” Chuckling, he bowed his head, “And I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a place here. Refugees are treated pretty good on Neo Earth, you know?”

“Oh, that is definitely my Elie.” She commented with a sober smile, rubbing the back of her hand over her still scorching eyes. Without asking first, Ailoca stepped forward and gave the man a firm squeeze, pulling away from him soon after if the action proved to be uncomfortable. “Thank you the again for the hope you have the brought. You have made my life the little brighter. And...I am the glad you have good family and ties here. But if you the need me, you the let me know.”

Blinking, eyes slightly wide as he recovered from the unexpected embrace, Kyrian gave a firm nod, “O-of course. And as soon as you get that map bring it my way. I’m over at the rec center on Trumpet Avenue. You can just ask for Mole. That’s uh… that’s what the call me over that way. And good luck. Eleazar’s lucky to have you, too.”

“Oh I did not mean the uncomfort.” Ailoca vowed, her posture growing relaxed at the directions. She swore she could feel excitement burrow deeply into her chest, suffocating any of the horror that was there initially. “I will the meet you soon. I owe you the whole of the world.” She promised with a cheery beam, her heart in her throat.

Eleazar was alive. And she was going to be finding him very soon.
 
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- NEO-EARTH 3280 -
The Rich Man's Casualty - Nightclub

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“No… I definitely know your face…” The man remarked, and seemed to ignore her caustic response, as his eyes narrowed in thought. A sudden patchy redness stole over his cheeks, the man straightened upright, and slapped his companion on his arm, swearing, “This is that bitch! Remember? Outside Haustigar on Ranix!”

“No way, man?” Looking at her, the other man’s eyes narrowed, “Oh, hell! You’re right!” His hand moved then, for his hip, where a side arm sat.

“Gentlemen… There a problem, here?” Approaching the counter, a woman settled herself between the pair and the white haired woman, her hands on her hips as she eyed the soldiers with a look that hinted the wrong answer might result in considerable regret. She was on the shorter side - but carried herself with a formidable sort of energy, her dark hair pulled into a loose bunch atop her head, dark brown eyes narrowed with judgement. Though her features were delicate, soft, even, her posture and the confidence behind her tone suggested she wasn’t one to take lightly. And it seemed fairly apparent the men at the bar knew this.

“A-ace! Hey! Listen. We… This woman… She’s--”

“One of the Mech Pilots… to whom we owe a considerable debt?” She asked, a brow slowly lifting.

“...But she’s--”

“Responsible for our fair planet still standing?”

“I--”

“Am incredibly grateful for her service? And, it would seem, her measurable patience for drunk idiots? Shut your trap… and do yourselves a favor. Walk it off. Whatever plan or ideas you got in those knuckle-head skulls… Walk it off. Because these people, whoever they are and wherever they come from, are under our protection, now… Understood?”

“Yeah… We got it.” Stuart muttered. He rose and elbowing Bertrand, nodded, “C’mon. Party’s gotten stale, anyhow.”

Rising as well, Bertrand eyed Pyche once more, “Lost good people on that mission, you know… You might be under our protection, but hell if we’ll forget.” His eyes drifted to the other woman, before he turned and stalked off, Stuart on his heels.

Turning back to Pyche, the woman shrugged, “Trouble with a forced draft. No shortage of idiots and pigs. Sorry if they disturbed you. I get the idea you don’t care much… but in case you’re one of those sorts who wears it on the inside… a lot of us got pasts we ain’t proud of or don’t want on display. Most of us couldn’t give half a damn. Enjoy your drink, Miss.”

“Mhm…” was the only reply, before Ace turned to walk away.


@Mobley Eats

 


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RII'CHII


Not Really The Fighting Type...



×Neo Earth / the Rich Man's Casualty / the dining floor×

•Inquisition•
He tried to not close his eyes. The thunder and violence came rushing back when he did, and his poor heart was having issue dealing with the memory. Explosions and death were the wheelhouse of the military, of the foolhardy. Rii'Chii was neither. Even as Brawler's navigator, being less directly involved, the chaos still lanced through his mind even now. And the formalities and niceties and pomp of victory had done little to assuage the terror of remembrance. Any other time, he might have been more at ease, but-

Rii'Chii looked down, attention drawn from his inner worries to those of the children near him. Human, he thought.

"I am Och'Nari, child." He smiled, if distractedly. "I am a strange sight, I guess. Uncommon."

The little girl had already climbed into a seat that wasn’t offered, and her brother gave her a face that suggested he might argue the decision before he turned instead back to Rii’Chii, lips pursed and brow furrowing slightly, “Uncommon? It’d be easier findin’ a pin on a porcupine, Mister. Did… did you see it happen?”

“That’s rude to ask…” His sister chimed, playing idly with her hair, “‘Sides. If he saw it, he’d be dead, too, doof. He’s just askin’ onacounta he’s scared cause the big ship today… that’s the same kind that did it, you know?”

“I ain’t scared…” He muttered, “B-but it was, you know. The same.”

"It was," Rii'Chii confirmed. "So I have heard."

Different memories replaced the more recent ones, far older but no less painful. Memories, but not his. Memories of memories, passed down as stories and legends from one generation to the next.

"Your- sister? is right. I was not there, having not yet been born. But my father and mother heard of the news soon after it happened, having fled before- before it happened. It is sad, but I am grateful that your home has been spared the same fate."

Rii'Chii paused, hand seeking the metal cigarette case in his pocket. He needed a smoke. But these young ones didn't need the example. Instead, he gestured to them.

"What brings you two here tonight? Are you the descendants of someone here?"

"We're all distended from somebody…" The little boy answered, with an air that suggested he, as least, thought himself quite wise, "My sister's one of the pilots. Told us to wait for her to finish mangling."

"Mingling… booger." His sister muttered.

"Falin would you just… ugh!"

"What's it like? Flyin' one of them big robots thingies?" She asked, ignoring her brother, "My sister Lucy? She flies a spaceship. It's pretty boring, now anyway…"

So many questions, they had. But there was nowhere else for Rii'Chii to go, nowhere else he needed to be. His career with VOID was over; this was his job now. The thought weighed on him heavily. He would likely never return to his previous life, and it was ten to one he'd even get to visit his people again.

"Uh, hm? Flying?" No; he needed the cigarette. If anyone complained, he would apologize later. Dividing his attention, or maybe as a way to distract himself from having to fully revisit the experience, the Och'Nari removed the metal case from his pocket and began preparing a smoke. "It is- different. I am no pilot, mind you, but I do not believe that flying a spaceship is much like being in the seat of a Lightbringer. I imagine for each, the experience differs. For me, I observe and give secondary input.

"Ah, right: the Lightbringers are sentient, after a fashion. So, think less pilot / ship, and more- eh, rider / pasqin'diz."

It was the only comparison he could think of. For the life of him, Rii'Chii could not recall any Earth creatures, and his mind returned to his childhood among the transplanted Och'Nari wildlife. The sharp-clawed pasqin'diz had been ideal for traversing the ancient rocky landscapes of Ocha, and while they were merely a relic of older days, the Och'Nari still tended to them in their colonies.

“...Pasqin-what?” The boy asked, a brow quirked.

“Don’t you know anything Kemmy?” The girl asked, before leaning forward, her hand shielding her mouth as she whispered, “What’s that?”

"[pass-KEEN-'-deez]," Rii'Chii repeated, forcing his inhuman mouth parts to move in a fashion more familiar to his audience. After the second syllable, he gave a short gasp, as if using the noise to cut the word in two; it sounded almost but not quite like a small hiccup. "There are a few here in Neo Earth, in the Ochna Quarter. They are a little taller than I am; maybe six and a half feet at the head crest."

As his elbows made contact with his knees, he found himself enthralled in his storytelling. Perhaps it was the earnestness with which these children asked their questions. He took a big drag on his cigarette before continuing.

"It is a long beast, covered in raised scales to both shield it against the heat of Ochna's star and to allow air flow to cool it. At the ends of its eight feet are short but deadly claws that can pierce stone as easily as butter; there are few places it cannot go. Its face is long and narrow, topped by a golden crest it uses to call its flock. I am told that the great Och'Nari builders of the Ancient Eons rode them in search of rare and exquisite materials with which to craft beautiful shapes and impossible machines. They say that on Ochna, the pasqin'diz stood ten feet tall at the shoulder and were nearly so huge as your spacecrafts." He chuckled, making a small clicking sound as he leaned back in apparent satisfaction. "Perhaps you shall visit the Ochna Quarter and see our smaller kinds for yourselves."

Staring in awe, the boy’s gaze widened, and straightening up a little, he nodded enthusiastically, “I gotta get me one of those… Rio Dash in Mrs. Oaks class wouldn’t make fun of me if I had one of them…”

“Lucy’s always too busy to take us there…” His sister muttered, pouting a little, “Most of time we just get stuck at Auntie Floss’s… and she smells funny and wears too much lipstick and her cats smell even worse… Ick.”

"Well. Maybe, if things begin to shift toward normal, I can take you there myself. Just ask for the Guardian Rii'Chii, and I will come."

“Oh would you really??” The girl asked, clapping her hands.

Her brother, crossing his arms over his chest made a small huffing sound and shrugged, “I mean… It’s not like I need anyone to take me. But I guess it’d be cool… or whatever.”

“Ignore Kemmy. He’s just sulky cause Dad--”

“Shut it, Falin!”

“It’s true, and you know it.” Sticking out her tongue, the girl turned back to Rii’Chii, “We’d like that very much, and thanks, Mister. For… for talkin’ to us.”

Rii'Chii smiled, nodding his head in a minute bow. There was something encouraging about a young one's curiosity. Something that gave him hope for the future, even should his own actions be insufficient. Whatever they might be.

After they had said their goodbyes and raced off, back into the crowd, Rii'chii was momentarily left in peace. It was a few minutes later that a shadow darkened his table once more, a figure standing behind him with a small, subtle smile. He was tall… Taller than most, and wore a hooded cloak over his head, his features somewhat obscured. Eyes like charcoal, glistening with a faint edge of bright red peered out at the Och'Nari, lip curved over slightly jagged teeth…

"Children… Adorable, are they not?"

It was right in the middle of a drag, too. As the stranger made his presence known with his comment, Rii'Chii tried to gasp. Instead of air, he inhaled a cloud of smoke. Immediately, liquid filled his eyes in pain, and he doubled over, coughing to nearly retching.

"I- uh-, yes?" The response was raspy and halting. Rii'Chii looked up at his visitor. "How may I help you?"

"Funny how we forget… in times of war… those innocent that suffer. Hmm. Those we claim to be protecting often face the harshest consequences of their own actions. Stubborn resolve can cut short the life of one so pure. Remarkably hypocritical of us, isn't it?"

Eyes flashing like the cinders at the tip of the cigarette in Rii'Chi's hand, the man smiling just a little bit more. "Have a good evening. If you will excuse me…"

And without so much as a nod of his head, the hooded man backed away from the table and disappeared into the crowd.

An odd thing to say, Rii'Chii mused as he watched the cloaked figure depart. The cigarette shone as he took another drag. And not a little ominous.

He started to pursue the man. Given the proliferation of the Cult, and the harrowing battle they'd just fought, strange figures spouting philosophical nonsense should not be passed over. Nevertheless, as the Och'Nari scanned the crowd, he found that the hooded figure had vanished, blending into the obnoxiously pleasant crowd. A weight fell on Rii'Chii's heart, and he immediately left to find someone to report it to.


TAGS || @Elle Joyner \\ code stolen wholesale from Elle Joyner
 
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