#kelth

[riftwalker-limbro]

problem!!!

kelth no longer experiences the second dream as The Main Tenno. they no longer get yote around by the Stalker like a bag of potatoes.

they no longer injure their knee in this event.

i need a Different Event to cause them to need a cane.

or do i. maybe they just Woke Up Like This.

[riftwalker-limbro]

wouldn't it be fun if operators who were running around pre-second-dream-reveal ended up using borderline transference loopage as a kind of dissociation-adjacent coping mechanism for the stress of being a child soldier

[riftwalker-limbro]

stolen dreams

masterpost

----

"-which means this Maroo might be in real trouble," the Lotus finished.

The Operator was already nodding and strapping their skana onto their back, They had no idea what an Arcane Codex was, and apparently, neither did Ordis. "Why have I never heard of them?" he asked, seemingly talking to himself. "Ordis needs to do some research."

Ordis seemed to have gotten over his major resentment of Grineer to not even comment on a mission rescuing someone from their grasp - or the prospect of this new thing was really just that interesting to him. The Operator was glad for him to direct his focus outward for once, and not on running endless diagnostics to find out what was wrong with him. The glitch in his voice hadn't gone away even after they'd finished fixing the Orbiter up, after he'd indicated all of his segments had been returned to him. They were a little worried about it - but whenever he did glitch, it sounded like he was speaking more from whatever his equivalent of a heart was, less politeness wrapped around his often-blunt message, so they couldn't be too heartbroken about it. Still, something about it bothered them.

He dropped them off on Venus, without any of his usual parting words or well-wishes. He must have been really absorbed by the research. Nonetheless, their target was marked, and they hunted down Maroo quickly.

She had some more information about the mysterious Arcane Codices for them - or, more accurately, their current market value. She blustered and swaggered, and eventually, they managed to pull the location of the Codex she'd sold to the Corpus out of her, and off they went to retrieve it. Ordis had kept his thoroughly-engrossed-in-new-things silence all this time, but once they returned with the Codex, he spoke up again.

He let them know the Corpus have three codices and the Grineer two - and the Lotus revealed the plan: to retrieve all of them and examine them together, something which has never been done before.

When Maroo pronounced Ordis' name as Ordo, and he did not manage to restrain an annoyed glitch in her digital direction, the Operator felt laughter bubbling up in their chest. Weirdly, there was no way out for it, so they just felt giddy for a minute while they finished discussing the next course of action.

They stole the Grineer codices, and then the ones acquired by the Corpus. After the first few, Ordis spoke up again.

"Operator, have you looked at these codices? They're absolutely beautiful! Composed with such elegance and grace, I have never seen anything like them. Is there even an Operator capable of writing anything so perfect?" He sounded absolutely mesmerized by them, and it fired off a little pang of something inside their chest.

"Writing?" they signed at his camera, curious and surprised at his enthusiasm. "The Arcane codices are writings?"

"Of a sort," Ordis replied, excited, "it's code! As in machine code, that something could execute! I don't think we have enough fragments for me to be able to emulate its intended receptacle yet, but-"

"Whoa, I don't think I'd want to plug some random code we stole from Grineer and Corpus into you," they interrupted his train of thought. "Who knows what that might be, if it could cause harm?"

Ordis halted, considering. "Ordis thinks the Operator is probably right," he eventually said, sounding almost disappointed, before quickly perking up, finding another way forward. "But we have to find the original machine for these codices! I simply must see this work of art in action."

"It is done," the Operator signed, feeling giddy again, excited as well, before asking Ordis for the coordinates to the next target location. Something about this discovery, that the codices were readable code, shook loose some old memories in their brain. Examining them could wait, though. They were almost as curious as Ordis was.

With the final codices also in their possession, they trekked back to the machine that Maroo extracted the codex from that had started this whole mess. Maroo herself, in charge of the mission as she was the only one who had ever been to the machine and made it back alive, was so distinctly focused on getting treasure, getting rich, making a profit - it rankled the Operator a little. What about finally finding out the answer to what must've been a mystery for decades before they found out about it?

They semi-tuned out the Lotus and Maroo fighting over the comms, and quietly signed at Ordis to receive directions, which he gave, also quiet, also focused. When Maroo noticed they'd reached the machine, she finally shut up and tuned in to what was going on again, right as they inserted the combined codices into the dusty-looking machine.

What assaulted their ears next was an unimaginable noise, distorted by the passage of time and, undoubtedly, the buildup of Infested grime within the machine. There was a pattern to the static, but the only thing the Operator could glean was that there was a message the noise was obscuring. They were about to hit the machine with their skana in frustration, but-

"All is silent and calm," a voice repeated, now almost clear. "Hushed and empty is the womb of the sky."

For just a moment, they were stunned silent. Then, something in a more distant part of the derelict howled in agony, the Lotus yelled "watch out!", and an Infested, larger than any other they'd seen so far, was barreling towards them. With some trouble, they dispatched it, and then ran for extraction, not waiting to see if anything else would be after them or willing to investigate the howling.

Maroo made a lot of noise about treasure, or rather, the present lack of any, but the Lotus seemed unsettled enough to not be needled by it, and neither was the Operator. Once safely back on the Orbiter, they were finally able to relax again, to shiver and discard the Infested remains upon their skin.

"So you're saying," Ordis mused, "there was no treasure? No cure for cloning syndrome, no lost Tenno Cephalon?"

A pang went through them. Was Ordis still thinking about another Cephalon to replace him? Before they could reply, Maroo made a quick exit, now that there was no profit to split.

"You're still thinking about other Cephalons?" the Operator signed up at Ordis, as soon as Maroo and the Lotus' lines went dead, and they were alone once more.

"Well, in this case, Ordis was rather hoping for another Series-2 Cephalon," Ordis shared, sounding a bit embarrassed, but also tired. "You see, there are many newer Cephalon around now, and I've been talking to them over the Weave since you returned to me, but there's not really anyone like Ordis, anymore."

The melancholy in his voice was tangible. They dropped down to the floor, leaning against the wall of the Liset, and patted the metal plating with one hand, raising another to reply. "Was there, in the past?"

"Oh yes," Ordis began, enthusiastically, "there was- there… Hm."

He stayed quiet for a moment. "There was?" the Operator prompted.

"Ordis feels like he can almost remember them," he said, "but not quite."

"Aw," they signed. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay, Operator. The new Cephalons are interesting, too, and they have so many new capabilities - they might even…" and he suddenly trailed off.

They tilted their head, and when that didn't work to bring their Cephalon back to the present, they crossed their arms as well, amused.

"Oh!" Ordis suddenly said, surprising them a little. "Operator, I know what we should do next."

"What?"

"One of the newer Cephalon - one called Simaris, and he is so great, so knowledgeable - he sent out a request for help, just now. Some of his sentinels have been trapped in a Grineer prison block."

They clapped their hands together once, and stood back up from the floor, fluidly turning back to the nav console. "Sounds easy! Let's go rescue some sentinels. Reckon he might let me keep one?"

"Oh, Operator, imagine," Ordis said, sounding star-struck. "That would be so gracious of him!"

The Operator shook their head at the console in front of them, thoroughly amused. "You want to get your head out of those clouds anytime soon, or should I input the coordinates myself? I might make a mistake if I do, though."

"Oh, uhm-"

"The sooner we might get this done, we might even be able to go speak to him!" they encouraged him, warmth suffusing their body at how fun it was to poke at Ordis.

With a flustered silence, the nav coordinates appeared on the console, and their course was set.

[riftwalker-limbro]

when you have a game moment that you can translate almost directly into lore snips

Barely waiting for the ramp to go down, Kelth separated from Limbo and stumbled down into the orbiter.

"Operator, you shouldn't go on missions for that long!" Ordis chided. "What if you lose focus and-"

"Limbo has my back if I do, and it's just Mars," Kelth said, flippant, leaning onto the frame's offered arm, not feeling like grabbing their cane for the short walk into their quarters, but also not having the strength to steadily walk that far. "Ordis, how many-"

"Before you ask me that, Operator," Ordis interrupts, voice grave, "think about if you really want the answer. Really think about it."

Kelth, finally seated on their couch, swatted in the general direction of Ordis' camera. "Whatever. How many void traces was that one?"

Ordis remained silent.

"I promise I really want to know," they said.

"One hundred twenty-one void traces, Operator."

Kelth grunted and slid down the couch, halfway to the floor, which was thankfully covered in a rug.

"That was over an hour! I could swear that-"

"I'm sorry, Operator. Relics are fickle things."

From the corner of their eye, they could see Limbo add notes to his blackboard, which was currently filled with notes on Void Relic statistics, adjusting the average. He looked at them over his shoulder, shrugged, and circled the number he'd calculated again. There were traces of older circles around it. Limbo signed "fickle?" and made a scoffing motion with his entire upper body.

Kelth groaned again, dramatically flinging their arm over their eyes.

"Hot chocolate is on the way, Operator."

[riftwalker-limbro]

resurfacing - intermission

masterpost

---

thoughts. brain full of thoughts. whirlwind of emotions and memories and questions and-

another body pops up in front of them. then, it's on the floor, in multiple pieces, bleeding out. another thought eliminated.

they activate the ability that allows the other part of their mind, which is always there but doesn't really feel like part of them, to take over. they mentally sit back and watch as their steel-grey, speckled with red hands wield a sword and fell grineer, after grineer, after grineer, after grineer-

a voice sounds in their head. another grineer falls. a bullet pings off of the back of their skull, and they whirl around, lato in hand, dropping that soldier too, before they're standing still on both feet again, no targets left here.

"-perator?" the voice repeats.

they bullet-jump through the dust that their death-dance had kicked up. on top of the metal ramp, they find another squad. they ready the blade.

don't think about it. the brief moment of peace as they jumped up the ramp had been enough. what were they? why did they have the right to mow down these targets? why were they different than these bodies on the floor? who-

"Operator, answer me!" Ordis all but shouted.

They froze, blinking out of their trance. The Grineer on this platform turned around, saw them, and started shouting. Whoops.

One radial javelin later, they holstered their skana and raised their hands up to their field of vision, so Ordis could see.

"Ordis? I'm fine, what is-"

"Operator, you reached your extermination target half an hour ago," he said, a hint of despair in his voice. "The Lotus isn't even here anymore either. You just- you weren't listening- is everything alright?"

Oh, whoa. Shit, okay. "It's... fine, I just have a lot on my mind right now," they signed, distracted, hands on autopilot while their mind struggled to recall how they’d even got here. "Heading to extraction."

"The Liset- has been there for ages- is waiting for you. Please hurry."

"Thanks. Sorry."

They suddenly felt exhausted, so they opted to just jog, instead of bullet-jumping. It's not like there was much danger left in this base, really. Something about the sight of so many bodies and blood everywhere left them with a sour taste. It was eerily quiet, and the whirlwind of thoughts threatened to start up again, summoning a residual feeling of fear.

"Half an hour, you said?" they signed with one hand, suddenly desperate for distraction. They were beginning to understand how they'd ended up here in the first place, but something was preventing them from thinking about it fully.

"Yes, Ordis thought- it was a glorious bloodbath- that you were just letting off some steam," he began, biting away the glitch with an annoyed tone before turning back to concern. "But then, you didn't seem to hear me, and you just kept going. You’ve pretty much exterminated the whole base."

That explained the eeriness of the place. They were close enough to hear the cycling of the Liset's engines now. They picked up their pace a little bit, eager for the white noise - anything above this deathly blanket of silence. "I'm- I'm sorry, again. I don't know what came over me." They arrived at the landing craft, jumped, and let the magnets take hold of their limbs.

"Operator,” Ordis said, warm but still concerned, “Ordis understands that yesterday was quite an eventful day. I- I have been thinking about it a lot, too."

In the artificial gravity-field of the Liset, the Operator let their body drop down to the floor, clunking their head back against the metal walls, really letting themselves feel the shock. It barely registered. 

They let their arms rest for a short second before raising them just enough so Ordis could see. They weren’t paying attention to their own visual feed anymore. "Eventful is one word for it."

For a minute, they just breathed, luxuriated in being surrounded by the familiar noises. They couldn't hold off the thoughts forever like that, though. "What's the part that gets your attention the most?"

Ordis sighed. "Simaris, to be honest. Now that I've had some time to think, I really don't think he meant any harm."

They jerk their arms a little in a scoff and raise their hands to start arguing, but Ordis quickly continues.

"I mean it! He's just... really into gathering data for his Sanctuary, Ordis thinks. And he clearly knows a lot, and has a lot of confidence, so it makes sense that- the arrogant bastard- he would think he knows what's best in any situation. He's just… blinded by his knowledge."

"Ordis," they begin, carefully.

"Ordis won't trust him with your life ever again, though, Operator," he said, a touch of anger to his tone. At Simaris, or at himself? "He is not worthy of that."

"Wow," they signed, taken aback, "thanks?"

Ordis simulated a sharp exhale. A laugh?

"Anyway, for what they're worth, those are Ordis' thoughts."

And then he's silent again.

"I," they begin. And halt. They don't even know where to start.

"What were you thinking about just now, when you were- slaughtering- fighting those Grineer?" Ordis asked, after a moment.

That directed them enough to begin untangling the mess in their head. "The only thing I can recall now is just how much I didn't want to be thinking at all," they signed, tiredly dropping their hands after, as they calculated what to say next.

Ordis remained silent.

"Simaris called me Hunter," they signed, slowly, thinking. "Lotus calls me Tenno. You call me Operator. The Grineer call me Warframe. None of these... fit."

"Why not?" Ordis asked, and they could hear where he carefully didn't use their title.

"They're not my name," they stated, carefully. And then immediately started to doubt it. "Are they? Is my name-"

"No," Ordis agreed, "they're not. I- I remember, I think. You did have a name, once. It is... Ordis cannot remember it," he said, sadly. “Ordis can’t remember a lot of things, these days.”

"That's okay, neither can I," they signed, a pang of warmth going through them, before dropping their hands listlessly into their lap again.

They sat back and just stared blankly out of the glass ceiling of the Liset, pieces of space debris flashing past, stars twinkling in the far, far distance, except where they’re blocked out by a slowly growing dark spot in front of them - the Orbiter.

Their mind was shying away from it, but in the companionable silence, they forced it back to the previous day.

Simaris and his sentinels and secrecy. The messages that still didn't make sense. The Chroma, controlled by an unknown entity and having vanished into the night. It had clearly been like them, though. Simaris had called the way they spoke with their hands "Orokin-era Tenno sign language". Chroma had used it. Were they both Orokin-era Tenno? Why had they not recognized the other?

“What did you think about that Chroma?” they asked.

“Ordis thinks it is likely happy to be free from whatever was controlling it,” he said, after a moment’s contemplation.

“Yeah,” they agreed. “It signed at me. Thanks, it said.”

“It- signed at you?” Ordis asks, baffled.

“Yeah, did you not see?”

“Ordis was preoccupied with- giving the golden asshole a piece of- getting the O- getting you out of there safely,” he said, finishing primly, despite the self-inflicted interruptions of varying origins. He was trying, and they felt oddly touched, that he would do his best to no longer call them by a name they did not recognize.

“Well, it did,” they signed, feeling more alert the more they thought about it, and irritated, as the puzzle piece didn’t seem to fit, no matter which way they turned it. “What am I not seeing?”

“What do you mean?” Ordis asked.

“I understood the sign. We speak the same language. Why is that?”

“Well, you are in a warframe, right now, and Chroma is also a warframe,” Ordis said, very matter-of-factly.

“... huh. Wait, no, hold up.” That didn’t feel entirely right. They were in a warframe? Chroma was the warframe? “What’s the difference?”

Ordis was silent for a stretch too long. “Ordis isn’t sure, actually. There used to be a memory there, in that spot, but it’s gone, now.”

Well. “What a giant headache,” they complained, getting up as the Liset docked back into the Orbiter.

Staticky crackles - Ordis’ equivalent of a chuckle.

[riftwalker-limbro]

reconnecting with your childhood self can be started by something as simple as receiving a substitute from them for the hair dye you used to use on the zariman before everything went to shit and you gradually had to watch yourself lose the splashes of colour as you fought to stay alive for years and years and years

[riftwalker-limbro]

well i hopped ingame to just. VERY QUICKLY DOUBLE CHECK baby kelth's look because apparently that's just Out There for Everyone to See. so might as well snap a quick shot to put here too.

this is the nerd. they're paler than a sheet of printer paper because they hail from a long line of nerds and the only light their skin sees is from a computer monitor.

i really liked the full face of void scarring and they've always had it but i'm not quite sure lore-wise why yet. i'll figure it out. it's probably related to the Hella Pale eyes.

swag wise they're currently in a Manduka set bc it's the best-looking (imo) that i could get with plat immediately. (it's also because the sleeves reminded me of limbo and i mean. see the name of this blog) (also the feet have claws and i dare you to try tell me you wouldn't wear that shit on a heartbeat if you're 17, in charge of your own money, and laid eyes on that)

in canon they've got a cane to get around because a sweet 1000 year cryosleep nap has some side effects. they get exhausted very fast, can't seem to build up stamina, and things start hurting if they push themself, so they'd rather not. also canes are badass (and the first one i find that i like on an antiques flea market i am fucking buying)

and i might as well throw their drifter self in here too While I'm Here.

@ DE please make it easier to sync colours like eye and skin and whatever across operator & drifter because god. also physical features presets. how am i supposed to design other people like this. untenable

anyway this is them. you've seen the back of their head plenty recently so here's the front. they have received No attention in my lore rotation on here yet so Apologies but i'm not gonna start in the middle of exam time.

currently in standard drifter swag. do not perceive them

[riftwalker-limbro]

vince thoughts in my brain rotating themselves entirely without my agreement

he was never a warrior. he was a goddamn mathematician, and now he finds himself in a new body, perfect for combat. but he has None Of The Skills.

he's a better dancer than he is a warrior - though, that's mostly in the sense of perfecting the movements that enable him to manipulate the Rift around him and other beings.

kelth and sufford probably have to introduce him to warframe & tenno culture. teach him signs for quick communication without having to open a passive transference link, basics of combat - kelth probably has the weirdest time the first time they transference, because-

sufford has been a warrior all his life, right? dojo kid, probably in a rank just below dax during his lifetime. he has discipline, muscle memories, fighting abilities that allow kelth to kind of just let him take the reins and get their combined ass out of there in one piece. vince has No Fucking Clue what he's doing and kelth is Not expecting that - why would they? they've only ever been with sufford, and to him, fighting is second nature if not first.

i'm imagining it like. someone sitting on a horse and giving the Yes Go Ahead Start Going signal. but the horse is just like ?????????? (yes this specific metaphor is because the Cowboy Hat Post has stuck in my brain like a popcorn kernel between my teeth. it will always be a Cowboy Hat To Me)

does vince even want to fight? in a setting like warframe, with the players as warriors, we hardly ever meet people who aren't at least a little skilled in combat, so we tend to forget that those exist. but those people have to be out there, no? quickest example i can come up with is the people who live in the various open world cities, and cephalons like simaris and suda. we don't know any of ordis' history where he was a regular civilian, if he ever even was. vince was a civilian, and yes, the old war had broken out, but he was keeping far away from it, until it caught up with him.

i'm imagining, with new friends like this, he would want to fit in, right? he would want to help, pay them back for putting his confused ass back together after his Big Oopsie. but he has almost no skills that are of use to them. so he would want to learn. combat stances and training with sufford, transference and finetuning his abilities for not just pure math purposes but also incapacitating and damaging enemies.

yes this is me trying to wrangle the idea of vince into someone who would eventually enjoy going out and fighting hordes of enemies by just flicking his wrist, popping a cataclysm on everything, and nothing can move anymore, ready to be walked up to and decapitated, no hurry. let me have this power fantasy.