mental link; it's a catbus!

[wille]

[ It's an ungodly hour of the night as these things go, with both Misato and Gildor's minds flickering to announce their presence to all. Forceful and unapologetic, for her part, while urgent and unsettling, for his part. They insist on your attention. ]

( Everyone. We found something out there beyond the barrier. It was too dark for us to see much-- )

(Or anything, for some of us, but-- )

( But it's massive-- )

(Big as the shuttles that brought us-- )

( And predatory. At least, it seemed pretty clear that it wanted to take a chunk out of us. Some of you found tracks the other day, right? Let's talk. )
 

Comments

[perroquet]

( I realize it's not the loveliest of comparisons- )

[ He knows now, partly thanks to Rust, not everyone is going to understand the size of an adolescent dragon or a fully grown barghest. But the shuttles they took from the Station to here - they all had to have been in those at some point, and Misato backs him up. ]

( Did they have more than four legs, the tracks? )

[aluminumandash]

( Wasn't your facility with language I was calling into question. ) [ Shithead.

The image is sharp, detailed down to the grain of the dirt: a rare clear track, too small and shallow to be made by a multiton monstrosity. Likely Rabadocean. ] ( Two legs. And no fucking way did they belong to something that size. )

[ Another, fainter impression lingering at the fringes of his thoughts, something he keeps coming back to. A circle burnt in the earth. ]

( What'd y'all smell? )

[perroquet]

[ Whatever Rust was calling into question goes willfully flying over Gildor's head. He's a little too preoccupied with what he and Misato just found to worry about much else. He'll leave interpreting Rust's image-memories of sand to her, their details lost on him. The smell though- ]

( The scent from the barrier was distractingly heavy, like clean air after a thunderstorm. Otherwise, it wasn't much different from being in any other part of this bloody desert. )

[ The scent-memory fills his mind and spreads over the connection - ozone and chlorine, and a hint something else he identifies as the magical side of the technomagical barrier. Wet earth in an otherwise dry landscape. ]

[aluminumandash]

[ And for that moment, Rust's mind goes still. He absorbs the scents, attaching names to them last of all.

His thinking picks back up, swift and logical, a pen poised to strike something from a list. ] ( How'd it move? ) [ The question reverberates with his memory of Gildor's perceptions, that spider-webbed sense of sound and motion. ] ( Built for speed, built for endurance? Did it remind you of anything? )

[wille]

[ BOYS. ]

( Speed, I'd say. It's massive but fast, like a big cat. It went very still when it sensed us, like how cats wait before they pounce, you know? And when it went for it -- us -- it really went for it. )

[perroquet]

( Yes, it was rather cat-like. Reminds me of a displacer beast, only larger. I could feel about as many legs on the ground. Six, maybe more. Did you see any barbed tentacles on it's back, Miss Katsuragi? )

[ FANTASY MONSTERS they're all horrible. ]

[aluminumandash]

[ Why did he ask. ]

( Couple things. ) [ His attention homes in on Misato, the thrum of her mind. ] ( If it's as big as you say, it'll need to eat a lot. Near constantly. Some large predators roam, but from your description that ain't the case here. Begging the question: what's its food source? Is it part of a pack?

Two. If it's as big as you say, and if it's warm blooded, it'll get hot quickly. Given the climate, I'd guess it's nocturnal.

Now, there is another option. Do you think it's possible it's part mechanical? Like the Elin. )

[wille]

( I don't think I saw tentacles . . . )

[ Holy shit, Gildor, what kind of world did you come from? She takes to Rust's interrogation in stride, part and parcel of the job, as far as she's concerned. ]

( It's not mechanical. Or if it is, nothing like the ones the Hyrypians have. We should ask why there are so few Elin left. )

[perroquet]

[ Rust focuses on Misato, but that doesn't stop Gildor from listening or chiming in. Not since he thinks he has something helpful to add - or at least, more helpful than before. ]

( Yes, from what I could feel of it through the ground, I'm certain it was entirely organic. The Elin are rather strange and feel like the insides of clocks, but this was like any other living thing I've encountered. )

[ A pause, as he hesitantly considers another fretful idea based on Misato's. ] ( Perhaps they are feeding it the live Elin, otherwise it's... starving in there. Have either of you seen anyone go beyond the barrier before? )

[aluminumandash]

( Any other living thing that's three stories high. ) [ Look, it's a sticking point. It's fucking impractical for an animal to get that big.

Still. He appreciates having concrete information, baffling as it is. ] ( Low breeding rate, general fragility. Anyway, that's what they said. ) [ Weren't you taking notes during the Elinmaster's lesson, Misato? ] ( If it's starving, it'll move. Unless you think there's something keeping it here. )

[ Gildor's question is weighed, considered, and: ] ( Nuh-uh. How'd you get past it? )

[perroquet]

( I conjured a door from inside the barrier that opened to a space on the other side of it. )

[ Crickets chirp. ]

( Bard magic. )

[aluminumandash]

[ Flat. ]

( Misato. )

[wille]

[ Somehow she gets the distinct feeling of being scolded for something wrong she must have done without knowing exactly what, and so, her hesitance is preemptive. ]

( Uhm. Yeah. It's a door, well, a hole really. It doesn't have a knob or an actual door you open or anything-- Is that what you're asking? )

[greentech]

( Huh. How does that work? )

[perroquet]

( Ah, how do I begin to explain... )

[ The 'how' of his magic isn't really important right now, but he can't bare to leave Miss Pidge wondering. ]

( The long of it involves old lore involving the gods and their creation of the universe, but I'll give you the short version for now.

I am able to draw energy from myself and the music I play to cast a variety of spells that bend the rules of reality. Opening a dimension door is one of them. )

[ Rust must be loving this. ]

[greentech]

( That's... pretty cool. Would you mind if I was able to get a look at that sometime? )

[ There's gotta be more to this than just "MAGIC". ]

[perroquet]

( Of course, though later. Perhaps not till we make it back to the Station. Performing bard magic out here isn't the safest thing, where the only known magic is technomancy. )

[ He stops himself from thinking if they make it back to the station - or more specifically, him. He's still half expecting someone to sell him off to the Hyrypians like old times. ]

[greentech]

( Good point. I'm interested to see how it interacts with... uh. Everything.

Let me know when a good time would be when we get back! )

[wille]

( He said it has something to do with strings and vibration, are you thinking what I'm thinking, Pidge? )

[ For the love of all that is good and holy, please say no. ]

[aluminumandash]

[ Silence. The collision of hot and cold, the resultant hiss of steam. ]

( A magical door. ) [ There's no sense to the words, as he thinks them. They fall like blows. ]

[wille]

[ It's unpleasant, of course, but she weathers it stiffly because it must be well-deserved. ]

( Hmm . . . Calling something magical or miraculous is really just a way of saying I have no idea how it works. That's all. )

[perroquet]

( Yes, precisely! ) [ He responds cheerfully, glad to hear at least Rust gets it. As in, there is nothing to get about it. ]

( Well, as to how it works, bard magic is a bit... chaotic in nature. Toes the line between light and dark, good and evil, sensical and nonsensical. It's also an innate thing that not every musician develops no matter how skilled- )

[ He has to stop himself before getting too off-track. Now isn't the time for long-winded yet vague lectures on the musical magics. ]

( Anyway, that is how we moved past the barrier. )

[aluminumandash]

[ Gildor starts to talk. And talk. Starts using words like good and evil.

Rust has experienced the severing of a connection by a veteran host: violent, clean. Final. This is nothing like that. A swell of anger that doesn't quite recede, the writhing of a worm on a hook—then a wrenching, a blurring of focus. Silence turning, at some point, to absence.

That's all. ]

[perroquet]

( I... )

[perroquet]

( Did I say something wrong? )