2. What is your Guardian’s favourite season/weather?
Isiel: Favorite weather would be cloudy skies with the sun shining through, and as such, her favorite season is autumn, partially cause the cold is actually comfortable for her to be in, especially when she was new to Earth.
Coreopsis: Adores the spring/summer seasons, they love to see plants and flowers bloom, and sunny weather is their favorite (it also helps them feel more comfortable).
Ehries: Winter is her favorite season, in part because she doesn’t really get cold considering she’s just, made of energy. However, she, like Isi, likes the cloudy + sunny type of weather.
Zikris: Used to favor summer, but since being turned into an Exo, they prefer the cooler temperatures of spring. They like cloudy days.
9. Does your Guardian have a favourite planet/location to visit?
Isiel: Her favorite planet used to be Venus, but now she prefers to just wander over Earth and will spend a lot of time going through old routes she used to take during the Dark Age, along with spending a lot of time in the Cosmodrome. The sight of Russian is familiar and comforting to her.
Coreopsis: Their favorite place to visit is the Dreaming City since they found a peaceful spots to rest in it. They also like the EDZ and will spend time either there or in their secret workshop outside of the Tower.
Ehries: Space in general is their favorite place to visit, but she has a fondess for Venus as well as Europa.
Zikris: Riis is their favorite planet, but since the Whirlwind, and with the Eliksni slowly working together with the Guardians, they enjoy the Cosmodrome too.
10. What does your Guardian do to relax? Do they ever relax?
Isiel: Surprisingly, Isi does actually relax sometimes, usually in the safety of her apartment and away from other people, or out in the wilds (it’s getting her guard completely down that’s the hard part). She likes read and write poetry when she wants to relax, though sometimes she’ll paint or do wood burning. She’s always got to keep herself busy in some way, even when taking a break.
Coreopsis: Similar to Isi, Coreopsis likes to be able to do something with their hands even relaxing, but they prefer to do gardening, pottery, or metal sculpting in their free time. They also meditate when they need to relax.
Ehries: She likes to tell and read stories when relaxing, but she also finds time to do weaving/needlework. Otherwise, being the Tower cryptid, she can pretty easily find time to just sit somewhere as a cat, peacefully watching over the people of the City while relaxing in the sun.
Zikris: Watching over the young Eliksni of their pack is, oddly enough, a relaxing experience for them. Any time they can reminisce about Riis, even though it brings them sadness, is also how they relax sometimes.
/*******************CBoC 44 pseudocode for Status Register write***************/
void BNRAM_EXO_1_Status_Reg_Write ( uint44 data_byte ) { BNRAM_EXO_1_CC_Reg_Write(0); // Enable the EXO slave by toggling clarity control LOW BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_ClearTxBuffer(); //Clear EXO transmit buffer before sending command BNRAM_SPI_1_CBIM_WriteTxData(BNRAM_CR8T); // Set the write enable (CB0) bit //prior to write//Wait until EXO_DONE flag is cleared while((BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_ReadTxStatus() & BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_STS_EXO_DONE) != BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_STS_EXO_DONE); BNRAM_EXO_1_CB_Reg_Write(1); //CB0 is set high when CC is switched high BNRAM_EXO_1_CC_Reg_Write(0); //Re-enable the EXO slave BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_ClearTxBuffer(); BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_WriteTxData(BNRAM_WRSR_CMD); //Send Write Status Register instruction BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_WriteTxData(data_byte); //Send data //Wait until EXO_DONE flag is cleared while((BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_ReadTxStatus() & BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_STS_EXO_DONE) != BNRAM_EXO_1_CBIM_STS_EXO_DONE); BNRAM_EXO_1_CC_Reg_Write(1); //Terminate the write operation by toggling //clarity control HIGH }
________________________________________
Okay. That was annoying.
Banshee-44 didn't know who in the hell Clovis Bray thought he was, but he would be damned if the asshole executed a recall order on him.
The Vanguard Gunsmith paused a moment, literally, and set the auto-rifle he'd been at work on down on the counter before him. He cupped his metal alloy chin in a brilliantly designed and articulated hand and thought.
Well. He supposed that Clovis Bray thought he was...Clovis Bray. By all accounts he did what he wanted, when he wanted to. So that pretty much summed it up.
Banshee made a noise that sounded like a snort and focused his attention on the small gaggle of Guardians before him.
Would a group of Guardians be called a gaggle? Never thought of it before. Never? Maybe. He couldn't remember.
"Yeah, here ya go," the Exo mumbled, as he twisted to reach one of the Guardians' orders.
It took roughly thirty minutes for Banshee to make his way through the line of Guardians that had stacked up in front of his station. Where in the hell did they all come from? That was the problem in having his workstation right off the primary landing pad. He looked forward to the return to the old Tower.
The white and blue optics stared out across the Courtyard and upwards, to where the glow of acetylene torches and the sparks of welders lit up the early evening.
Holy hell, was it evening already?
Wait. Or was it early morning.
Banshee-44 consulted a datapad to check the time. It was indeed 1843 hours. He sighed, a mechanical sound. It wasn't that he didn't trust his chronometer's programming enough to rely on it for the time; it was that he didn't trust his fried RAM enough to remember the damn time.
A chime, something like a chime, definitely musical, but a kind of pretty sort of noise tickled his audio receptors. It was vaguely familiar somehow.
Oh. The recall order. That.
"Ain't like I wasn't gonna see you eventually anyways," the Gunsmith muttered.
He closed up his workstation and made his way through the maintenance walkways to the Hangar. Banshee took the back ways whenever he could. Being out among people...it was easier for him to forget where he was going. And why.
He was okay with being alone anyways.
He thought he was okay with it, at least.
The Gunsmith popped out into the Daito room. It was thankfully empty. Weird that they had a branded lounge in the space.
He ducked down into the airway and cast a glance at the journal lying on some nearby shelving. Oh. That. He wondered where he'd left it. He'd have to grab it on his way back through. If he remembered.
A few steps more and he was in the pit of the Hangar. He strode over to the Vanguard's Lead Shipwright, Amanda Holliday, and simply stood before her. He saw that she was elbow deep into a Sparrow, so he said nothing. Only stood with his arms folded.
It took Holliday several minutes before she realized that the Exo who stood before her was Banshee-44 and not some Titan. She'd spoken to him as if he were a Guardian, as she had assumed that's who it was. Being all still and stoic and non-responsive.
"Hey there, Ban," she called out as she straightened her back. Holliday worked her shoulders up and down, stiff from the repairs. "Need somethin'?"
It was unusual to see the Gunsmith in her domain, though not out of the ordinary.
If he had the plating to do so, Banshee would have blinked at her. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Wasn't urgent. Just wanted to ask a favor."
Holliday's eyes widened in curiosity and one eyebrow arched at the words. Him asking a favor was not typical. Whatever it was, it was going to be a good one. "Uh, sure, Ban. Whatcha need?"
The Exo nodded toward the rear of the hangar bay. "A ride."
"A what?" At that, Holliday stood up, and somehow avoided the boom that held up the Sparrow. "You need a ride?" She sounded incredulous.
"Hmm-mmm," he grunted.
An awkward pause followed.
"I can fly myself," he added, his arms held open in something between a shrug and a friendly surrender. "You don't have to worry about ferrying me around."
Holliday's mouth worked open and closed a few times before she managed speech. "No...I mean...it's okay, I don't mind...it's been a while is all." It had been, what, months? since Banshee had borrowed a ship. He hadn't needed to borrow one back at the old Tower since he had a transport vessel. It was destroyed in the Red War, unfortunately. Holliday thought it was a shame. He kept it in decent nick seeing as how he generally forgot he had it. "You going international or domestic?" she joked. Her initial surprise had faded to nothing.
"International," he responded. It was a long running joke that indicated he needed to a ship capable of leaving the atmosphere. "Gotta errand that requires it."
Banshee thought it best he leave the details to himself. Commander Zavala wouldn't take kindly to his excursion and neither would Holliday, come to think of it.
"That's been a while. Not since before the war," the Shipwright commented. She stretched both arms over her head and stepped out from her workshop. Banshee followed her around to the other side, where she stood with hands on hips. "Got a Hawk you can borrow. She's over yonder." Holliday motioned across the deck to a Hawk bearing Vanguard colors. It was without offensive armament, however.
"Sold." Banshee tilted his head at Holliday and nodded. "Thanks."
"Sure." She turned to go back to her project, hand in the air as way of goodbye. "Don't forget to top off the tank when you bring her back."
Banshee made a short, sharp noise that was a laugh and made his way to the ship.
________________________________________
He'd taken liberties with his flight plan, as his destination was strictly forbidden under current Vanguard policy. Banshee doubted that any claim of not his having forgotten Commander Zavala's explicit order would be believed. A little of what they once called jiggery-pokery was necessary.
Banshee had told the Vanguard's favorite Guardian that he would visit the Clovis Bray AI at some point. Said Guardian had helped to rebuild what had turned out to be his own weapon. It was one hell of a sword. Huge. Stupidly overpowered.
Felt comfortable in his hands. Good, even. Like it belonged.
Still, the Guardian had been the one to piece it together. It was theirs by rights.
He knew from the scouting reports that the giant Exo head that housed the AI was deep in the ruins of Bray Exoscience. The only safe LZ was at a communications array in Charon's Crossing. He'd have to be inconspicuous.
There was some EVA gear in the Hawk. And a tarp that he could use as a makeshift cloak. He'd seen how some of the Guardians dressed, even the ones that weren't New Light. It could get pretty rough by his eye, but he wasn’t big on fashion as a rule.
Banshee pulled a RJSV-99-40 Sparrow out of the Hawk's vehicle stores and mounted up. The ride from Charon's Crossing to Cadmus Ridge was brief, but the journey through Cadmus Ridge into Bray Exoscience was choppy due to the Fallen.
He ignored the arc bolts that chained past his helmet and kept the throttle floored. He deftly maneuvered past Dregs and Vandals, bumped a very angry Captain out of the way, and sped into the jagged entrance to Bray Exoscience.
One magazine and a few dead Fallen later, Banshee had a spacious office and lab area to himself.
On the main desk he spied a figure that looked a little too much like himself and scattered papers. The topmost paper was a drawing, like an artist's render...
He found himself with one hand on the desk, head bowed, the other hand on the back of the chair, his A/R still clutched between fingers which trembled.
"The hell is that," Banshee hissed to the empty room. He turned his head away from the dark, shrouded figure sketched onto the yellowed paper.
He stepped into the private lab and took note of the open hatch to his right. It seemed like he should go that route, so he did.
The inert, deactivated Exominds slumped across equipment, crumpled onto the floor, and in pieces scattered throughout marked the journey. Banshee moved slowly, wide, bright eyes taking in everything and nothing. It was surreal. It was goddamn surreal. But it was his past. Or so he was led to understand.
He stepped into an antechamber of sorts. Sealed hatch to his right and ahead. Couldn't go through those. He glanced to his left.
And nearly jumped.
"I'll be damned," he breathed. It was an enormous head, an Exo's head, unlit eyes dispassionate and lifeless. So it was true. The AI really was inside of a giant Exo. The head of one, at least.
A squad of BrayTech security frames kept watch, some armed with RPGs, some with A/Rs. Standard BrayTech fare. They appeared oblivious to his approach.
Banshee-44 took a few cautious steps closer to the construct and stopped at the threshold. He pulled off his helmet and stared at it. If he'd been built to have pseudo-eyelids, he would have blinked long and hard at the head. As he didn't, his optics merely glowed. It made his gaze seem hard and intense.
After a moment, he stuck his free hand in the air in a half-hearted wave at the giant Exo. "Uh." He cocked his head to one side. "Yo."
"nyan'dren!" andal bursts out laughing and only seems to laugh more when Uldren gives him the scowl of a lifetime. "oh come on now, i know ya missed me!" andal cleans a few tears from his eyes between snickers. (drownedsniper)
“Wh—”He pounces. Pounces. The man bloody pounces on the glowering Awoken and is of course met by a curl of the lip and a roll of the eyes. “Do. Not,” he bites off, crossing his arms over his chest plate. Then he rubs at one cheek with a gloved hand.“Did you have to get your...scruff on me like that?” Uldren folds his arms again and turns his head to the side in a poor attempt to hide the smile he’s struggling to suppress.
"ya know, even with that wonderful meal... i'm still pretty hungry. want to go grab some lunch? lunch part two?" andal laughs as he finishes the last bit of his food.
Another electronic snort comes forth and Shiro arches his face-plating in a way that makes him look as though he’s quirking an eyebrow.
Almost.
“Make that lunch part one for me. I gave you mine.” The Exo’s mouth shapes into a grin. “Right, so, let me guess, Spicy Ramen? How many of those expired tickets of Cayde’s do you even have?”
“I’m bored, hungry, my butt’s sore from sitting in this tree stand, and I haven’t slept in 32 hours. In other words, I’m the model Vanguard Scout. How’re you doing, boss?”
