#michanikos

[datarevived]

    " ...Scooks. Scrooks? Scoots. No, that isn't it... "

Her brow furrowed a moment, a hand raised to her chin as she tapped in the rhyhm to which she walked. The Awoken and its' Ghost wondering aimlessly throughout the deep end of the Cove.

    " ...Suroks? "

     " No.. wait, no... yes -- waitaminute, you remembered it this whole time!? " 

The exclamation coming off with a tint of exasperation, the Hunter tugged the edges of her hood in annoyance. The past five minutes of their travel, consisting of her struggling attempt at remedying ones' name, while it had been apparent of her Ghost and its' recorded timeline carrying mute details to the very core.

    " Remembering and logging are of two different capabilities. One that proves fact from opinion, " her Ghost rattled, a cheeky demeanor in its' choice of words. " For instance, it is fact that you were suppose to go participate in piloting exercises for worse case scenario. However, as you see - we are in no ship, nor are we ready for such emergency case. "

    " A class they'll have on standby again next week, " the Awoken whined, refusing to lose this one.  " It's not like it's a big deal... plus, we're visiting a friend. A buddy! a pal. Way more exciting than some two hours of piloting crash course. "

    " You do get that the point of the exercise is to not crash, right? "

    " And you get that there's way worse pilots out there than me, right? " Selene squints, pausing in her step to make emphasis of the situation. The Ghost having traveled just barely a foot ahead before stopping -- hovering in place with a stressed blink.

    " You know, just because you're a Guardian, doesn't mean you should procrastinate so much. Remember how long it took you to confront Zavala? "

    " Nobody likes confronting Zavala, " she scowled, dropping the weight of her rifle momentarily as shoulders limp. " Besides - that's not the point right now. Not procrastinating. Just -- changing the order of priorities. I'ma run outta room hording this stuff if we don't get rid of it anyway. "

The stuff in question, being that of a loose bag beneath her cape, filled with ransacked screws and cables. Stray materials she had come across in her adventurers before, including that of two battered pistols too far gone to reprise. A particular Eliksni who might've had better plans for the materials -- or not. Better for her to have hand-delivered the craftsmanship than the poor Fallen getting sniped digging in the dumpsters or front line.  

⌊ @michanikos ⌉ 

[datarevived]

It had been a couple months since her last visit to the EDZ in person. Perhaps even a few additional days since her last rendezvous. The forest in which the fallen ship lay, thickened over the rains and lack of trampling twigs -- making track through the trees easier than that of the ground unless provided proper openings.

It felt nice getting out for once.

Being on her own, surrounded by nothing but fresh air - it had felt like ages. The time spent worrying over recent turn of events, while that of other complications continued to grow. Valdourin had seemed interested in other measures for now, while Bex had been... not quite himself. A worry, surely. But even then, she desperately craved just a moment of silence. A moment to herself - shadowed without the bias of what was all going on with the Sol.

An unclouded opinion.

It's the muscle memory of a familiar comfort that leads her here, vines overgrown and wrapping themselves along the ship's wing as metal glints against the sun in the distance. A smile that can't help but peel itself in the corners of her lips, leaping from branch to soil, and then slowly creeping up in her dawned spot of greeting. 

The Hunter positions herself accordingly with careful footsteps - making as little noise possible to alarm or disturb who could be inside. Her perch, being that above the closed doorway as she sat upon the ship's rooftop, legs crossed and hands gripped to the ledge. She leans over, hair a flutter in her face as she knocks a soft but familiar rhythm - her own code to alert her well being before sitting back up and readying for answer.

[ @michanikos ]

[datarevived]

     " Oh, oh. I got one, " a voice nodded against the treeline, " If you could go anywhere in the solar system. Where would you go? "

It had been just about daybreak in the EDZ. The soft glows of setting sun glittering against freshly rained shrubbery, with drops of water reflecting against moving light like diamonds across a sea of sand.  Beneath the thick canopy, a view that was none less beautiful as it was dangerous, as gentle golds and orange from the skyline painted against the fresh grass that waved against a faint breeze. Puddles from recent shower sunk in the edges of the mud where grass had all but abandoned, as a nearby servo that had been recently put out of service earlier this week, sat in wait for the on-coming storm of those persuaded by greed.

A mission that had been requested by the Kay, himself. Something along the lines that the Fallen were appearing by the masses, causing trouble along the borders. But to what sort of Guardian would want to pick up something as boring as recon on a hunch? To sit and wait for the mouse to take the cheese.

     " Hmm... "

Perhaps it was her naivety to the trade. 

Icy gaze locked between the scope of her rifle, its' point rested in a field of view near the servo. A freshly earned cloak rested at her shoulders, its' hood thrown against her back to enjoy the faint caress of nature where she could get it. While it had not been her first take on approaching the front line as a Guardian, it had been her first outing ever since respectfully deeming the title of a Hunter. A rough climb, more so than she could have ever imagined. But the reward of being rightfully attuned to her gift and the Vanguard as a whole - it was by far her proudest achievement yet. 

And she'd waste no time in showing it.

     " I hear Mercury is quite the view. Well, was. "

The geometric-shaped voice hovered at the trunk of the tree in which its' Guardian sat, prying from a snipers' view as  they counted the hours on board. It's shell, deviated from its' original white and gray pallet, to something more personalized in color. Almost as if meant to match the darken hues of ones' cloak and boot, unison uniting the bond that was the Light and its' Traveler.

     " I'd go to... the Moon, " the Guardian answered, a tone of interest in her voice. Sheepish smile prying beneath the shade of the trees' as she pulled her eye from the scope and toward the Ghost. 

     " Of all places... the Moon? " it spoke, almost as if disappointed.

     " Yep! " the awoken laughed, tilting her head at the other, causing dark-violet locks to brush at her shoulders. " The first place I'm going to when I learn to pilot is the Moon. "

     " You're just wanting to go there because you want to prove yourself wrong that it isn't just made of cheese, " the Ghost grumbled, its' body waving back and forth with its' argumentative tone.

     " Nooo... Well... maybe. But not the point, " the Awoken waved a hand, letting the rifle drift in its' weight against her leg. " But come on. Who, born here on Earth, doesn't consider going to the Moon for their first field trip. Realistically, tell me. "

     " Oh, no. You've made your point. You and every other stubborn Hunter - you do really fit in with the match. "

     " I'll take that as a compliment, " the Guardian smirked, a dubious grin written across her face before returning her position toward the servo. A secondary look toward the Ghost as she stiffed another laugh, followed by driving an eye down the scope. A faint sign of movement in the back trees provoking her attention. " ...Four hours in, we finally got a bite, huh? " 

⌊ @michanikos liked for a starter story encounter! ⌉

[datarevived]

Selene approaching Suroks about banjo music :