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Vincent A291
 Posted: May 7 2017, 03:31 PM
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Chaotic_Neutral
20 posts
39 years old
Human
unemployed
7' 0" | 298 Lbs
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Vincent A291
Herpderp [He/Him] is Offline


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Chase The Dragon
This was a fever dream of some sort. It had to be.

Vincent had seen a great many things over the course of his life. Not all of them had been pleasant. War, genocide, sickness, poverty, countless other atrocities too numerous to count, many of them by his own hands. Other worlds, different species, not all of them friendly. Objectively speaking, he should have been coping much better than he was. Things in this place were similar enough that adjusting should have been easy enough.

And yet something was different. Off.

It had been two days since Vincent woke up. Not in any of the simulated war games that he devoted most of his time to in the bowels of the Infinity. No, of all places it had been in what the Spartan could only call a trash pile. Collections of scrap and other less unsightly things that had been collecting deep in a dead end alley, and evidently for some time. Hardly the strangest bit so far, though. No, what disturbed Vincent the most was that he couldn't recall how he'd gotten there or what he had been doing immediately beforehand. Memory had never been an issue for him in the past, and for it to suddenly fail him for no explainable reason hardly set his nerves at ease.

Nor did the fact that he had no idea where he was after two days.

The place was inhabited. There was no question about that. Quite lively, in fact, as it was difficult for a man his size to even walk down the sidewalk without bumping into someone, and people tended to talk when they thought you weren't listening. Enough that Vincent had been able to pick up at least a few pieces of information. That this place was called "Kadath". No colony on the UNSC's list, and the way people spoke of the place made it sound like it was the only city on the planet... wherever that was. What had Vincent questioning his sanity, however, was the presence of numerous individuals that clearly weren't human, nor Covenant client races. Candid talk of other worlds, not in the sense that Vincent was used to. New arrivals, of which he could only assume he numbered among. That, however, was where information stopped, declined into the trivial and unimportant. Speculation and nothing more.

For what it was worth, however, the Gioco District - where he had apparently "landed", for lack of a better term - was modernized. And for better or worse he'd woken in his armor, although that just raised a number of additional questions. Both factors were enough to lessen the Spartan's initial panic to a creeping anxiety, although that in and of itself was something that Vincent wasn't generally accustomed to. Neither was the complete disconnect from a chain of command. Much of the last 48 hours had been spent hidden down the undercity's many alleys as Vincent repeatedly tried to make contact over any of the UNSC's radio frequencies. At first it had merely been a matter of protocol. By this point, however, it was edging on a nervous habit as the otherwise impassive armored giant kept to the shadows cast by the blazing neon lighting of the main street, all the while struggling with the one question he had been for years.... only this time, in a far more immediate sense.

What did he do now?

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Maria Robotnik*
 Posted: May 9 2017, 10:19 PM
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Maria Robotnik*
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[warning: a little graphic]

She had to find him. If this was Earth, or anything related to Earth, then he would be here. And even if it wasn't Earth, he still had to be here. He was her guardian, her protector, her best friend. She knew what he was programmed to do. She had been there, watching him develop from just a speck in a dish to what he was now. She had read all of his files, even wrote notes in a few of them. She had taught him how to read and write and stare at the stars and dream. She knew him better than anyone else, so he had to be here. That was what she told herself, what endlessly cycled through her head over and over. That she would turn the corner and he would be standing right there.

After waking up in the hospital here, her short term memories, what had happened before that darkness took a hold of her, returned. She had been shot. Killed, right in front of him. That's why she needed to find him now, to prove everything was okay and that she was okay and they were on a planet now and could enjoy all of the plants and animals and life that it held, the life she daydreamed about up on that space station. Her hand went up to her chest. It was weird, but she could still feel the bullet rip through her. The escape had worked up so much adrenaline that she didn't even feel it at first, but hearing him scream her name in horror made her come too and she remembered that pain. The last time Shadow saw of her was so gruesome. She looked down at her chest, at the blue dress that she wore that fateful day. There was no hole in her skin, not even a tear in the fabric. It was like this planet had mended everything. But if she stared down at the spot hard enough, would she start to imagine her blood pouring out?

The thought of her injury seemed to snap her from her thoughts and she looked around frantically.
How long had she been trapped in her thoughts? "Shadow?" She called out, ignoring the weird glances she got from passerby's. "Shadow! Excuse me," she stopped a woman on the street. "I'm looking for my friend. A hedgehog this tall," she held her hand up to her hip. "Black and red fur, have you seen him?" The woman gave her a look like she was crazy. No hedgehog, or even any animal at all, fit that description. "Young lady, you need to go find help." The woman said with a condescending tone before stalking off, her high heels clip-clopping away. Maria's shoulders slumped and she stared at the ground. Tears began to form in her eyes. "That's what I'm trying to do..." She told no one in particular.
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Fareeha Amari
 Posted: May 16 2017, 04:32 PM
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Lawful_Good
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32 years old
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Fareeha Amari
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It wasn't Fareeha's job to initiate, search for, or even take care of Kadath's new arrivals. They had multiple outlets in Kadath designed for that. And while combat seemed to be a part of every day in Kadath, it didn't seem like the council, the assumed leads of the city, had any intention to force those capable of fighting to do so. The Guard was by no means small, but that did not mean it was not ripe with disorganization. Not surprising, considering that a pathetically small percentage of the men and women that took up the mantle had similar training. Combat itself was universal: you win or you lose. But directing those that understood terms, weight, and even danger differently was a struggle. Fareeha had enough to deal with before Kadath's refugees. Between unifying her squad and completing missions from command, Fareeha didn't have much time in the day for herself.

And when she did, she spent it doing things like this.

Fareeha wants to help people. She likes to help people. The Raptora was hers, no matter what interest in peaked in R&D, and it was not uncommon to see her clad in it as she patrolled walked the streets of Kadath. Some of that disorganization in the guard was helpful. It meant Fareeha could do as she pleased as long as she performed well, kept to the rules, didn't lapse in judgment. She could follow her own leads in her spare time. Deal with issues the guard did not have time for when there were dragons in the catacombs.

Pharah pulled her helmet off, tucking it under her arm. The world lost its golden sheen the visor provided and it took her a moment to adjust to the new, if duller, colors. Whoever was interfering with the radio signals wasn't doing it now. Nothing to attempt to communicate with or track. A few of the operators had been less than pleased and, while she knew it was dangerous in the wrong setting, Pharah's first impulse had not been anger. She'd tried to call anyone and everyone when she'd arrived. Her mother, Overwatch, Helix: anyone that could explain to her how they'd set up such an elaborate prank. Or, somewhat more importantly, why?

But Kadath wasn't a joke. It wasn't soldiers messing with each other to pass the time. It wasn't heroes giving their old comrade's daughter a hard time. Kadath was very real, a weight that had settled in her gut and had not moved since her arrival.

She understood being alone.

It wasn't her job to initiate refugees. She wasn't assigned to search and rescue. Didn't know who was, to be honest, if anyone. But Pharah had never been someone who skirted from anyone that needed help. Physically or simply emotionally. And whether it was just someone who was lost or someone who was in trouble, Pharah understood what an S.O.S. was. She's just not sure how to answer it this time. If nothing else, she could lead them to those that could help. Those that give them lodging and food and understand as they'd done for her.

She takes a breath and keeps searching.


Vincent A291 Maria Robotnik
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Vincent A291
 Posted: May 27 2017, 12:40 AM
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Chaotic_Neutral
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39 years old
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unemployed
7' 0" | 298 Lbs
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Vincent A291
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Chase The Dragon
And nothing.

At least nothing that Vincent had been hoping for. The radio wasn't dead, far from it. There were plenty of waves in the air and a number of fairly active frequencies, just not the ones that he was hoping would be. There was nothing there, and after a few more minutes the Spartan would finally give up, at least for the moment. Maybe later... again. But at the same time there was a big difference between tenacity and the other half of that respective coin. It was once said that the definition of insanity was continuing to do the same thing an hoping for a different result. The question was just at which point you crossed over to that side of the line from merely being stubborn.

Formerly a purely academic question. Now, though, not so much.

One of many, it would seem. No longer devoting a fair portion of his attention to searching the air waves, Vincent would turn to step forth from the alley as soon as a break in the crowd formed, one large enough for the armored giant to step forward without colliding into anyone. Or the opposite. Generally speaking he still towered over a fair majority of the population, the vast majority of them human or at least physically close enough to pass as such at a glance, but there were others. Individuals like himself who were outliers, and he'd already seen one or two his size or bigger. Last thing he needed to do was make enemies here. Without the backing of the UNSC he was hardly much different from the rest of the people brought here. Physically quite capable and likely with military training that many of the others here seemed to lack, but a single person just the same. Upsetting just a single person in the wrong position could very quickly make life difficult long term. Well, more difficult beyond the general question that had been plaguing him since arrival.

Regardless, this place, the Gioco District as the locals seemed to call it. Whatever answers Vincent wanted weren't going to be found there. At least not on his own, two days of searching had already told him that much. What he needed to do was go up. Reach the upper levels of the city, where the local government supposedly had a much stronger presence. Vincent was hardly the first or only arrival of his kind, and the fact that an organized government of any sort existed meant there was likely a system in place to handle such new arrivals. He wasn't overly fond of the idea of potentially getting involved with their politics and bureaucracy - much less potentially giving them access to the technology on him - but at this point there wasn't much else to do beyond wandering aimlessly as he had been for the past two days already.

More than that, a less crowded area was going to be greatly appreciated. His suit's motion tracker had been a constant red murk since waking up because of the crowds and vermin infesting the lower city, and in his experience that was never a good thing. Enough to keep him constantly on edge on top of the other major developments, at least. Moving through the crowd as quickly as his size allowed him, Vincent had to come to a dead stop as his leg very nearly clipped a child, her small size allowing the surrounding crowd to effectively hide the girl until the Spartan was almost right on top of her in a very literal sense.

The collision was avoided as he quickly sidestepped off to her side, but it was enough to bring Vincent to a stop as his head turned to glance back and down. The Gioco District was a gambling area, to say the least. An adult portion of town. Certainly not a place you would expect to find a child, and she was out of place enough that it gave Vincent pause for thought. Not that he knew how to interact with her. His experience with children beyond his own adoptive family was... minimal, to say the least, and Vincent knew enough to understand that Alpha Company was hardly comparable to the average experience. Civilians in general had never been something his kind typically dealt well with. Between that lack of experience and the girl's clear distress it was enough to make Vincent hesitate between speaking out to her and continuing on despite the logical portion of his mind being very well aware that her problems weren't his, and unlikely to be anything he could actually assist with.

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Maria Robotnik*
 Posted: Jun 5 2017, 11:30 AM
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Maria turned around and screamed. Standing before her was a soldier. She didn't see the bold white 'G.U.N' printed on his chest, in fact, his armour didn't look like anything she had seen before. But he was still a soldier and images began to flash through her mind. Running while smoke filled the research lab, getting her friend to safety only to turn around and see a group of soldiers. She met her end at the hands of the soldiers, and now one had come to this planet. She stumbled back, her back hitting the brick wall behind her. She began to tremble, grabbing her chest where she had felt the bullet pass through her.

She saw he had weapons too and that made her freeze up, guns that she remembered all too well from her memories, she knew all too well from staring down the barrel of one of them. Turning, she broke into a sprint down the alleyway, but she was forced to stop when she ran into a dead end. Even though it was a short distance sprint, her breath was coming out short and raspy. She could feel her throat tightening up and she coughed, her body convulsing. Her illness wasn't making her getaway any easier.

She turned, seeing him at the end of the alley. "Are you with G.U.N? Why have you come back for me?" Tears began to stream down her face and she frantically looked for anything she could use to defend herself. She threw an empty can at him, but her aim was terrible, hitting the wall next to him. "You already got my grandfather's research, what more do you want?" She threw another can, this one hitting the ground a few feet in front of the monster. "Somebody! Shadow! Help me!" This couldn't be happening again. She couldn't have been given another chance at life just for it to all end like this. She could already see it happening, him raising his gun and pointing it at her head. Maybe that was just her traumatized mind talking, but who knew what was real anymore? She was alone on a strange planet, cornered by a G.U.N soldier. Nothing was real anymore.
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Fareeha Amari
 Posted: Jun 9 2017, 01:24 PM
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Lawful_Good
24 posts
32 years old
human
military guard captain
5'11" | 161 lbs
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Fareeha Amari
ysa [she/her] is Offline




Pharah is one more dead end away from putting her search on hold when the screaming starts. Her reaction is so immediate she doesn't even think to put her helmet back on. Her own safety has always come secondary, intentionally or otherwise. A long time ago she had learned the value of lives over the requirements of a mission. The task she had assigned herself is inconsequential next to that sound, a child's voice splitting an otherwise silent search. It sends a cold finger down her spine and for all Raptora's speed, a dread settles over her that she cannot go faster. Even as she boosts from the street to the air, hovers to pinpoint the sound, and shoots toward it, the sound settles like a hand around her throat. Would she make it in time?

The sound is, fortunately not far, and Pharah halts the Raptora's forward movement to stablize herself above the alley. Her assessment is lightning quick. A young girl at the end of an alley. A second figure at a distance, bulky and tall. She doesn't know what she expected to find, hadn't given it any thought, but to find a child alone in an alley is not it. A thousand greater horrors could have befallen her, especially in a place like this. It does not make her any less concerned, but there is a relief to know that, for the moment, the girl is far enough away from anyone or anything else that Fareeha can get to her with no trouble. She keeps her attention split between the two of them: the young, frantic girl and the stoic figure nearby as she lands, as softly as she can, into the alley.

In an attempt not to startle her further, Pharah brings herself down at the mouth of alley, which is suddenly bombarded with trash. She pauses at the onslaught, listening to the girl's screams, logging details unconsciously. Slow and cautious, Fareeha moves forward, the same approach she would use on a frightened animal. It is, more or less, that the girl has become, her back pressed against a dead end and lashing out with anything in reach. As she approaches, Fareeha tries to find the best words to comfort this frightened girl. A few feet away from her, she drops to one knee and sets her helmet on the ground. Her hands are empty as she brandishes them to prove it. "It's okay. You're okay," she says softly. "We're safe now." 'We,' she uses to imply they are together. Both in an effort to ease the girl's obvious fear of being alone, and, if the man behind them was the issue, to put them off. She offers a smile to the blond she hopes is comforting.

The girl addressed, Pharah glances over her shoulder at the man clad in armor. It begs to be questioned. Another time, she reminds herself, turning back to give her attention to the frightened child. "What happened?" The question is for both of them. She signals it by looking at the male again, unsure if the girl is in a state to answer with any clarity, if at all. Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies him as there are awful but immediate implication of a crying girl and a grown man not far away. Still watching him, Fareeha holds out a hand to Maria with the hope she might find some comfort in having something to brace herself on, even if it was the cold metal of her Raptora.

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Vincent A291
 Posted: Jun 9 2017, 07:31 PM
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20 posts
39 years old
Human
unemployed
7' 0" | 298 Lbs
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Vincent A291
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Chase The Dragon
If Vincent was being completely honest with himself.... that was not the reaction that he was expecting. Given that this place was completely beyond any UNSC presence he wasn't surprised to get the feeling that Spartans weren't something people were familiar with, but on the other side of that coin the last few days had hardly drawn any attention to him even while walking in full daylight. A few curious glances, perhaps, and a few individuals clearing to give him a wider berth, but nothing so extreme as open fear and panic. It was likely a good thing that Vincent was wearing his helmet as his earlier hesitation advanced into complete bewilderment as the girl screamed and ran down an alley only a few meters away from them. Not around a corner of any sort, and for a moment Vincent couldn't help but wonder if it was simply too dark for her to see the dead end before arriving there or if she hadn't bothered to look before cornering herself. Not that he intended to follow. Whatever was at play here was frankly nothing he could likely help with, especially as his mere presence seemed to be the root of the issue.

It hardly seemed like the situation was going to do anything short of escalate as yet another arrival would nab Vincent's attention. The first he knew of them was the sound of thrusters, heavily reminiscent of the UNSC's own jump jet technology. That, and the one blip on his motion tracker that had moved from the edge of its 25 meter radius to nearly the center before Vincent had managed to actually pick it out from the crowd of other dots. Whatever it was, it was small and it was fast... and as the Spartan looked up, he saw it. Person sized, which fit with what the motion tracker told him, but... not quite what he expected. While the oversized thrusters and steering vanes did a lot to obscure the silhouette of the actual person, they were smaller than Vincent would've thought. About the size of a normal human, something which heavily contrasted with the much heavier armor plate that reminded him much more of MJOLNIR's first generation suits.

Whatever the case, Vincent's stance remained neutral as the woman took note of him, landing in the alley after a few more seconds had passed. It was clear that the earlier scream had been what drew her to the place, and Vincent's earlier decision not to follow the girl seemed to have been the correct one as he could only imagine what that would have looked like out of context. That neutral stance would take on a subtle shift as Vincent's helmet lightly tilted with the next following set of statements, however. Demands? Questions.

Not that Vincent was in a position to actually answer any of them. "Gun"? At the risk of coming off as sardonic... yes, Vincent certainly knew of the word in common vernacular. Impossible not to. But the way the girl used it came off as something else entirely. A name? A group or organization of some sort, maybe, but not any that the Spartan had ever heard of, and the fact that she had to ask that pretty much confirmed that they weren't from the same world. Neither, for that matter, was the second arrival, although she was far less alien to him.

A single glance was enough to tell Vincent she was military or paramilitary. Which one didn't matter, she'd been trained as a soldier. While Spartans didn't emote particularly well, a lot of that was due to their gear of choice. Full body MJOLNIR didn't exactly allow for facial expressions to be easily conveyed, but in place of it they used other forms of communication to express what the voice could not. Subtle, tiny movements, the urgency behind them, the way one carried or held themselves. Body language was as much a method of communication as speaking or writing was for civilians, and a handful of seconds spent observing the armored woman was worth several minutes' of long introduction. Vincent might not have known her name or specifics of her past, but he knew enough about her profession and current mind set that it put him considerably more at ease as the other soldier looked back to him and spoke again.

"I passed her. I stopped to make sure I hadn't walked into her by accident, and she appeared to be unharmed until she started screaming." Vincent said, voice surprisingly soft and level for a person of his stature and appearance. Beyond that, though, it carried little in terms of inflection or intonation, curt and to the point when he responded to the armored woman as he took a handful of steps forward. A respectable distance would be maintained, that of maybe two or three meters, but enough to allow himself to be heard more easily. As Vincent's helmet shifted slightly with his glance to the blond girl again, though, he would fall silent again... not, however, without giving the distinct impression that there were gears turning in his head.

"Would I be right to assume that you're with Kadath's military? Law enforcement, or at least whatever equivalent it has in place?" The Spartan finally continued several seconds later, looking back to the older woman as he spoke again. Originally he had been intending to climb all the way to the city's surface and find his way to some sort of official or building from there. If they were already down here, though, that was going to save a lot of time and effort in the long run. Especially if leaving the area of relative safety where he'd arrived meant more incidents like this one. He'd gotten lucky here - it could've very easily been interpreted a different way. If there was anything Vincent had learned over the years it was that people weren't necessarily predictable, and that was a lot of firepower this woman was carrying now that he got a closer look at her armor and the components that made it. Not someone he wanted to pick a fight with in his current unarmed state.

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Maria Robotnik*
 Posted: Jun 20 2017, 10:17 AM
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The sound of a jet engine caught her attention and Maria pulled her gaze to the sky. A woman in blue armor descended and Maria's eyes went wide at the sight of her. She looked like a soldier too, but she wasn't wearing a helmet. She had really pleasant features too; smooth, dark skin and warm eyes that were also dark in complexion. She also noticed that she had black markings under one eye. She had seen those types of marks in the history books in the library. They made her look Egyptian. The woman began to ask her what was going on and if she was alright. Maria pressed her back to the wall, stepping to put the woman between her and the monster as he took steps forward.

"He's going to shoot me." She shakily muttered. "Before I was brought here.... I was shot." Her voice dropped down to a whisper, hoping the man couldn't hear here. "The soldiers that came, they looked like him." She was shaking as tears streamed down her face. She didn't want any of this. All she wanted to do was find Shadow. He was supposed to protect her. He was created to protect her and keep her safe and he wasn't here. She wanted to just crawl into a hole and cry.

As the man began to speak, Maria wiped her cheeks, a rattling cough coming up from her chest. He seemed confused too, saying he was just passing by and stopped to make sure she wasn't hurt. Was he telling the truth. "You're.... you're not from G.U.N?" She stared at him as he started to ask the woman before her about her military involvement. Fresh tears burst forth as it suddenly dawned on Maria what had just happened. Guilt filled her heart. "I'm sorry! I made an awful judgment about you. I'm lost and my best friend isn't here with me and nobody wants to help me find him." She coughed again, shameful at her actions. "Please forgive me."
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Fareeha Amari
 Posted: Jun 23 2017, 11:36 AM
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Lawful_Good
24 posts
32 years old
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military guard captain
5'11" | 161 lbs
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Fareeha Amari
ysa [she/her] is Offline




'He's going to shoot me.'
'I passed her.'

Both their explanations are incredibly simple. The girl's whispered in front of her and the man's spoken concisely behind her. In a normal setting, Fareeha might have pried further into such a simple story. But nothing about this was normal: hundreds if not thousands of people, all in a city they'd never heard of and no memory of how. It had been difficult for her to adjust, military trained and in her thirties: what would that kind of shock do to a child? And one, it seemed, that had not arrived her in a good headspace. Wounded by men that looked, however accurately or not, like their armored friend. She nods, slow, the only indication she hears his words and focuses on the blonde again. It would seem her hunch was right too, to trust him, military or not, because Maria's next words are of shock and regret. And, after all, neither of them were armed.

Fareeha smiles at her. She reaches out slowly and, should Maria let her, attempts to help wipe tears off her cheeks. "It's alright. No one's upset as long as you're okay." She bites down on the pity, hides it from her eyes, from the words. Fareeha had seen it enough as a child to know it doesn't make anyone feel better. Instead, Pharah focuses on making sure she is okay. No obvious wounds, no oddities in her movement when she slides closer, nothing but a strangely harsh cough. She smiles again, not realizing it had faded in her assessment. "My name's Fareeha. Do you have somewhere to stay in Kadath?" Another careful exclusion: the use of the word 'home.' "Is your friend there?"

Following an expected answer, Fareeha shifts to her feet, grabbing her helmet on the way up. Still positioned between the two of them, she addresses the male. She'd left the question he'd asked settle while she'd made sure her new charge was relaxed enough to function. With the girl no longer hysterical, she takes a moment to appreciate the armor he's wrapped in. She nods. "Yes. Captain Amari," she greets, more professionally than she had to the girl at her side. "They call it their Military Guard." Another sweep of his armor. "Are you interested? I hope all that's not for show." Her eyes move over his shoulder, the expanse a reminder of the distance they need to go, before back down the girl. "I'm going to take her into town. Upper Kadath. It's where the base is." She glances between them. "I think we're all calm now if you want to make sure she gets back safe. Right?" She lets the question hang, rheotircal as it might have been for Vincent, waiting for Maria's confirmation.

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Vincent A291
 Posted: Jul 30 2017, 03:02 PM
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Chaotic_Neutral
20 posts
39 years old
Human
unemployed
7' 0" | 298 Lbs
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Chase The Dragon
Shot? As in the past tense? Even with her voice lowered it was near impossible not to make out what she was saying from this close and with his helmet's audio pick up, but that didn't make much if any sense, either. She wasn't injured, and bullets tended to leave big holes and do quite a bit of damage when they passed through a person. Aside from their mental state the girl in front of Vincent seemed physically fine right now. Or was she talking years ago? It was impossible to be sure without any context but that was frankly the biggest problem with this entire scenario - Vincent didn't know anything. What came off as paranoid ramblings from this child could've very easily made sense to others and he wouldn't have known the difference.

"I'm never heard of them, no." Vincent replied, a slight hesitation in his response. It was the truth but it was difficult to tell what would and wouldn't make the situation worse here - people weren't always rational, and for a brief moment that was exactly what Vincent thought he'd done as the girl began to cry again. By this point the Spartan was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable with things in yet a completely different way. Civilians were never easy to deal with bar when they were calm and coherent. They often did things that made little sense, and even aside from that their lives and their reality were worlds away from his own and that of others like Vincent... pun completely unintended. A few remembered or just had a talent for dealing with other people in spite of that closed off culture, but Vincent wasn't one of them.

For the time being he refrained from saying anything else, electing to allow the blue armored woman handle the situation as she seemed to possess that exact talent he lacked.

Who was she, though? For a moment Vincent felt a flash of familiarity if only through the design of that armor, but it definitely wasn't UNSC. Reminiscent of several GEN2 designs that he'd seen coming out of the private sectors, particularly in the smoothed down leg plating, but then the arm plate and gauntlets had a certain degree of sharpness, hard lines that echoed Vincent's own armor. More surprising were the jets attached to the back of the armor, though, almost reminding the Spartan of the equipment used by the ODST's Bullfrog division... far, far more refined here, with additions made for what looked like more powerful thrust and greatly increased directional control. And then the weapon... that just raised a whole additional line of questions as it almost looked like one of the old Hydra launcher prototypes. Judging from her height as she stood and her movement, though, she wasn't augmented, either. At the very least being silent and paying attention did yield at least one piece of useful information in her name. Definitely of Arabic origin, although her accent... difficult to place. Vincent hadn't spent much time on Earth beyond the end of the war, and while he could list off and identify any number of accents from the colonies those from the homeworld were a tad more difficult. Not that she likely came from there anyways, at least so to speak.

What Vincent wasn't expecting was an attempt to immediately be recruited into her agency, something which caught the Spartan completely off guard and rendered him silent for several moments - it was only due to the bulk of his armor and enclosed helmet that his surprise hopefully remained at least somewhat hidden.

"... I'm fine with that. I have questions as it is, so that's likely in all of our best interests if I follow along." Vincent slowly replied, helmet tilting slightly as he glanced at Maria before turning to follow Amari's gaze to whatever it was looking at in the distance. Insofar as Vincent could tell, nothing specific. More than anything, though, his mind was still on the rather open approach from a few moments ago as it wasn't the kind of thing he'd ever dealt with before. Then again, none of this was, and while everything in Vincent had wanted to reject the proposal out of hand if only due to decades of training, conditioning and a lifelong loyalty to the UNSC... the rational part of his mind quieted those thoughts.

Wherever he was it wasn't a place Vincent felt he'd likely escape on his own, and it would be a foolish mistake to throw away allies based on what could very well be an irrelevant and outdated principle given a new and completely different set of circumstances and context.

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Fareeha Amari
 Posted: Aug 13 2017, 07:38 PM
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Lawful_Good
24 posts
32 years old
human
military guard captain
5'11" | 161 lbs
overwatch
Fareeha Amari
ysa [she/her] is Offline




Content with the consensus, Fareeha offers the girl another quick smile before taking her hand. Even with only Fareeha acting as her guard, it was unlikely anyone would try their hand at causing trouble. With another suited body, the probability plummeted further. But Kadath liked its curve balls, liked its suicidal maniacs and madmen, and the sooner they got the girl off the street, the better she'd feel about it. She nods to Vincent, a silent confirmation they were ready to go, unnecessary or otherwise. Gently, she leads the girl at her side -- on the opposite side of Vincent to be safe -- as she starts toward the end of the alley, moving them back toward the main street. Something better lit at the very least.

She laughs, short, lacking any real humor, when Vincent's comment registers. "I bet you do." She slips on her helmet again to free the hand in case she needed it, but popped the visor up out of courtesy. It didn't look like the other's helm had a similar function. Not that she minded: she understood caution. "You're in Kadath. Lower Kadath. Gioco District, to be exact. Not a great place for grown men, let alone children." She squeezes the girl's hand lightly, hoping none of the talk would bother her. "But with a suit like that, I can't imagine you've had much trouble."

Of course, it had been a little premature of her to assume he was good company. While his interaction with the girl seemed very much a poor coincidence, she didn't even know his name. She would include where he came from or who he'd worked for if the answers to that in a place like Kadath usually opened more questions than they closed. And Gioco was a rough part of town. If this was where he was making his home, he might have found a few unsavory friends. But, it helped little to analyze every avenue of life he might have etched his from, especially with so many of them new to her. She'd thrown that invitation a little hastily, spurred by the sight of his armor and the Guard's ... Well. Worrying state of affairs.

Even as drastically different as it was from armor suits she was familiar with, it was a nice reminder of home, of Reinhardt's Crusader armor, who also towered over her. Modifications to humans weren't unheard of, but it wasn't common, and the height did little to imply he might be exactly the warrior the guard needed. She had questions too, a lot of them, she always did. But she'd let him go first. If he was new, she wouldn't bombard him with more than, well, what Kadath was going to do if he didn't already know what had happened to him.

That said, Fareeha glanced at him. Unable to see his face, she studied the helmet, the plates of the armor. "I don't think I caught your name." A statement that could have been heavier, but she felt no reason to assume he was deliberately withholding it. Foolish, maybe, but she liked to think that if he was a less favorable individual not only would their meeting have gone a lot different, but he wouldn't have bothered to tag along. Time would tell.

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Vincent A291
 Posted: Aug 14 2017, 06:41 PM
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Chaotic_Neutral
20 posts
39 years old
Human
unemployed
7' 0" | 298 Lbs
Halo
Vincent A291
Herpderp [He/Him] is Offline


N/A


Chase The Dragon
With Amari moving to take the lead Vincent quickly fell into step beside her, saying nothing nor showing any outward reaction as the woman took hold of the child's hand and kept them to her other side. A smart move, no deeper thought needed. Her reaction to him earlier despite minimal provocation had been telling, and on the surface had no rhyme nor reason to it. That wasn't to say a cause didn't exist, but this was neither the time nor place to start digging, nor were either of the two adults present likely the ones best suited to do so. Were it another adult, rational and open to conversation? Given enough time and willingness, probably, but neither of those were really available either as the group exited the alleyway and back onto the main street.

"Trouble... no. I can't say that I have." Vincent responded, although he neglected to mention the part about deliberately avoiding attention of any kind. It wasn't relevant, and the verbal response itself was admittedly more of a courtesy to show that he was indeed listening as Amari's words were processed. "Kadath". There was that word again, although the rest was information that he already knew, gleaned through simply listening and watching where people thought he wasn't. It was specific enough in the sense that the words were names, but at the same time they meant nothing to him without context. It was almost akin to deciphering a new language in that regard - the individual words were useless without knowing how they fit into the bigger picture. Something that was made all the more frustrating in the sense that there were many things down in this specific ward, this single neighborhood, that came off as familiar. Objects, customs, things that might've been universal but that only served to remind Vincent of where he wasn't and the other missing pieces.

As Amari spoke again, though, Vincent's attention was drawn back to the present, the subtle shift of his helmet just enough to bring the woman within sight through the edge of the wide visor.

"Spartan Vincent, Lieutenant, UNSC." It was a simple enough reply, although Vincent neglected to elaborate any further. Most military protocol going even as far back as the turn of the millennium generally involved that much when you were either lost or had to otherwise identify yourself. Name, rank and service number, although in this case.... well, to be perfectly blunt he wasn't sure how much the first two even mattered here. The last among those three was long, complicated and not going to serve any purpose short of there being a way to actually contact HIGHCOM or FLEETCOM, something Vincent had been failing to do for days at this point. Although even then the Lieutenant designation had ceased to be relevant with the removal of ranks after being brought into the Spartan branch as the very term "Spartan" had been made its own distinct rank, but that in and of itself was a complicated conversation that Vincent really didn't feel like explaining. Better to simply word it in a way that would be easy to understand without context.

"Where exactly are we? I know the names from both you and just listening for the last few days, but without context it doesn't mean anything. I've seen nothing related to where I should've last been, and I'm not entirely certain how I woke up where I did. The most familiar thing I've seen thus far has been you, but despite similarities that armor isn't anything out of either the Materials Group or the private sector." Vincent continued, trading Amari's own question with one of his own along with his earlier observations about the woman's suit to answer her own silent appraisal of his. Hopefully the question was something that would be just as easy to answer, although something at the back of his mind very much doubted that. Even if it were, something else told him that he wasn't going to like what was said.

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