Magnetic Song

Due to its age, its base code was destroyed by Tumblr updating its own base multiple times. Many basic functions I would normally use in a day to day do not work, which effectively makes running this account difficult.

However!

I did remake it! I'm keeping this one archived for reference purposes and that One Post... but you can find me back at @babylonthrum with a soft reboot to the lore.

Going back to the original concept, which was an AU me and some friends played with that I decided to drop and subsequently pick back up since frankly, it’s a much better storyline. So, enjoy.

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The old relay tower dominated the landscape, a decrepit monument of steel and crumbling stone with the rusted remains of a satellite dish capping it. A couple ruins of walls curled into the landscape around it, piles of masonry covered in mosses and fungus. Whatever had been there was long since gone, with the tower as its lonely memorial.

But there had been something there at one point. Amid the hustle of the Blakkguard scouting the newly-acquired Outland Reach, Thaddius Blakk found himself fascinated by the presence of humanity where it was said none had been. Maybe it was an outpost for Gateway Cavern once, abandoned.

His cursory patrol of the ruin gave him some small scope of the dimensions, following the line of still-present foundation stones set into the mycelium dirt. Perhaps it could be rebuilt and repurposed as a depot for his Slugterrannean Express. The heavy freight trains could be indispensable out here for proper colonization, as well as hauling any resources back to Slagrock and the Industries for processing. 

He rested a hand against a portion of the wall he could reach, already mentally drawing out the plans for the supports and the platform necessary. His attention shifted back to the tower, tracing out a new outer façade for a refitted and updated communications center, one that better fit his company image. The dark charcoal grey with the contouring re--why was the dish pointed away from Gateway?

His thought process stopped dead in its tracks, noticing with a rather abrupt start that the old rotting framework of the satellite dish at the top of the tower was not pointed toward the 99 Caverns. He looked first toward Gateway to be certain, the downward curve of the overgrown road assuring him that yes, that was the slope they had just crested and was the road back to the 99, then back up to the dish.

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"You know. Sirin feathers make them impervious to Slugfire. Very little effects stick to them for long." she said, a wry tone managing its way passed the distorter in the mask as she stood watching the unfolding skirmish on the other side of the wall.

Her gloved fingertips carefully traced the outlines of the Harbinger held in her hands, the belt of tubes with his arsenal of snarling corrupted Slugs in them hanging with hardly a care from it. Committing it to memory, remembering its curves and edges. She was aware of him noticing the habit. Was she taunting him with it, keeping it within sight in her hands? Reminding him of his captivity, maybe. The thought stoked a fire in him, twisted the biding submission into visible anger across his face. She knew how to poke him and it made him livid that she was able to manipulate him so thoroughly.

"I do not like ... these ... so much," she continued, lifting the red-tinted arsenal tubes up to scrutinize them and their unruly inhabitants next, "but if they pack more of a punch than standard..."

She was playing the field now to his favor, trying to stroke his ego and placate him to agree to her. He recognized it in the way she showed curiosity to his corrupted Slugs, mostly in her body language. He wouldn't give it to her.

"Aren't you supposed to be down there negating a threat or something to that manner?" he growled, derailing the subject to something more pressing. "You were called out here to do a job, I'm assuming your job."

She feigned interest in the chaos in the pass, shrugging. "They can hold it out a little longer. I already know what to do and how to use you to that end." He opened his mouth to retort when she held a finger up to silence him and continue. "Do these little monsters have more oomph to them or are their nasty little teeth just for show."

He straightened up and faced forward, though kept her in sight. "Of course they do. I refined them myself, I know their capabilities."

She nodded then, sharp and decisive. "Count this as community service then. If you can use these to keep the smaller Sirin from cresting this wall, I'll let you walk with escort back to your Western 99 Caverns."

"And what if I decide this is not in my personal interest." he retorted, watching with a certain relish as the bandoleer was set on the Harbinger's barrel and brought back around within range.

She hesitated and raised her eyes to meet his from behind the lenses. "If you run without a proper retreat issued, I will hunt you down and murder you myself. I have a creed to uphold and it spells the death sentence for cowards and deserters. You followed me here, you clearly mean to help defend the pass. Do you accept or will I drag you back to Babel to carry out the rest of your sentence."

"Do I have your word of my freedom?"

"You have my word to your freedom, your bondage, or your death. Choose wisely, I will not hesitate to end you."

The threat carried weight. He knew it all too well and for a moment, he looked from his captive effects to the emotionless face of War's mask to the fighting in the pass. Defend for freedom, right? Then he could return to his expansion plans in the 99 and forget all about the Reach? It wasn't a hard choice to make, at least to him.

Right.

"Give me my blaster. I'll do this." he told her, wrapping his hand around the grip fondly when it was offered to him as though greeting an old friend. In a way, he was, pleased to feel the familiarity return to him. The blaster was sacred to any Slinger worth half their salt, and the Harbinger was no different to him.

"Good. I expect to see you giving us cover fire from up here." She turned around as soon as her hands were empty to address the officer nearby. "I don't see my bird. What is commanding?"

The officer saluted smartly and pointed down into the skirmish. "That white peacock there, that's the controller for this wave."