Have you prepared for your end? I have.

Arachno. 25+ Low-effort blog like please don’t expect much from this disaster.  icons by me. psd is by kraftifex on DA. Minors DNI. 

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“If you think OPPOSITES ATTRACT, I should be best buds with the MRVN,” Revenant griped. “Or Gibraltar.” Who was at least marginally more tolerable than Pathfinder; Gibraltar knew when to QUIT.

He didn’t think him and Bloodhound were so different. Even if their perspectives were.

He looked to the hunter at mention of them MOVING. Wanted to argue that Gaea’s government wasn’t much better than Hammond - but then again, Gaea’s government was easy enough to maneuver if one had the FUNDS to pay their way. Bloodhound had one of the highest winrates in the Games. They couldn’t be hurting for cash.

The mention of their hood, though, hit him with some delay.

Revenant stared for the other Legend before dragging his gaze elsewhere. “You gave it to me,” he argued. “Besides… doesn’t really compare to borrowing a whole BODY, does it?” For how angry he had been at first, it didn’t seem to have stuck. But then, so many of the simulacrum’s moods were fickle, fleeting things; hard to tell when one might end and when it might return.

Or, maybe it had been easy enough for him to accept that someone might turn on him in favor of the thief. Wasn’t so hard to believe. He knew there was no shortage of possible reasons.

Hound fell silent again but it was not a stoic silence but one of amused reflection at the mention of Pathfinder. “I spoke not of opposites. Merely seeking to know what we do not understand.” they hoisted themselves over a particularly hefty rock barrier and continued on, readjusting their weapon. 

“You and Pathfinder have your similarities” and they left it to hang in the air for just a few more beats necessary to rile the simulacrum up. “Both of you have been displaced in this world and seek closure in some way.”

Gale station was in view and despite the conversation at hand and their lack of rush, it was still very evident that they sought their goal above all else. 

The mention of the borrowed body gave them pause and though they did not falter or glance back-—it was clear in the way their shoulders shifted their weapon unnecessarily that there was at least some lingering smidge of shame over the matter. “My intentions for my actions have been made clear. Can the same be said for yours?” 

Where the hunter stopped to climb, Revenant stopped to watch them. Only once the other Legend had made it over the top did he start the climb himself - and with far more EASE. The plant life growing over some of the older structures made scaling them even easier than usual for the sim.

Much like the delay in Bloodhound’s response, Revenant, too, didn’t answer immediately. He had caught up to the hunter again before he spoke. “No.” He was well aware that being a simulacrum over THREE CENTURIES OLD made him seem interesting, at a glance. He had obviously experienced a lot more of the passage of time than most people ever got to. But - “I’ve been around a long time,” he continued. “And all that time, I’ve been doing more or less the same old SONG AND DANCE… I guess I’m not interested in being interesting,” he seemed to scoff.

For all his efforts to be DIFFICULT socially, making others question and doubt his moods and motivations, Revenant didn’t think he was difficult to understand really. A terrible thing had happened to him… and he was making everyone else PAY FOR IT. That was all there was to understand - and most people caught on quick as soon as they realized there was a GHOST in this machine.

Hound offered little more than a hum as they surveyed the surrounding land. Their pace was steadfast but not rushed; they certainly had a goal in mind but seemed to be in no frantic rush to reach it immediately.  “I believe we find interest in those unlike us. It is within our nature.”

If asked, perhaps Hound would suggest some sort of interest in the beast. Revenant was like a flame-—Hound had seen many fires, knew of them and their dangers, UNDERSTOOD them and yet...like a moth they were drawn. With how the simulacrum hung about the hunter, perhaps the feeling was mutual. 

Were they drawn to one another because of their similarities? Or their differences? Would they consume one another or would one be left in the wake of the other’s ashes? It was not a matter Hound dedicated much thought to if they could help it. The manner in which the gods willed them to fall did not matter in the end after all, only that it would be willed.

It was quite the march from the caves around to the old fish farms. The fallen and scattered debris of the ship along the way interested them little-—the prowler nest however did. “ We will alter our course.” with food secured, there was no reason to disturb the wildlife further. The hunter was both conscious of their supplies and the limited daylight offered to them. Given the fact they’d need to push through Gale station either way-—it wasn’t as thought the detour added much more time to their journey. 

The heat and smoke which permeated the meat was only going to smell better and better the longer it sat. Revenant began to feel reluctant to stay and SUFFER the odor. It was no wonder that the sim didn’t typically like to hang around while FOOD was being prepared or while people were eating.

“Not that new,” he half-murmured. He had been all over the Outlands. Sure, the Syndicate had added a bit of custom decor to this island, but most of it looked the same as the rest of the region. Granted, Revenant was far more familiar with Gaea’s urban environments than its WILDERNESS. He tilted his head, trying to eye the raven still perched on his horn.

“How modest,” the simulacrum crooned dryly. The Legend arguably shrouded in the most MYSTERY insisting they weren’t interesting.

The bird perched on him seemed to read its master’s movements and took flight, having finished its meal. Revenant, too, moved to stand, and then unceremoniously stepped off the edge of the roof, dropping into a crouch before rising, stretching some as he craned his neck and shoulders this way and that. He certainly wasn’t about to WAIT AROUND and watch the meat smoke over the fire.

They trekked onward as if unburdened by the company. Little to nothing was said-—the hunter seemingly finding comfort in the silence. It wasn’t until they reached their destination did they turn to take note of Revenant. It was needed, not really. Bloodhound had noted his distance and pace by hearing alone. The glance had been only good manners, had been to acknowledge the beast openly. 

“It is not modesty. It is my own truth.” a belated reply to a belated response. Bloodhound knew of the whispers surrounding them, of the veil of mystery. They were a private person and bore no ambition of being an enigma simply for the sake of it. It was merely who they were and how they carried themselves. In the eyes of others they might have been a great mystery, an interesting puzzle. But to Bloodhound? They themselves were merely a tool of the gods. A simple being of nature just as any beast or plant. 

Revenant watched the whole process even having seen it before. Predictably, he liked Bloodhound most while they were covered in BLOOD. Color suited them, he thought. “Bored. Figured you’d be here.” The simulacrum made his rounds pestering most of the Legends on a semi-regular basis; he seemed to have decided it was Bloodhound’s TURN.

It was their turn a bit more frequently than the others, maybe.

Mechanical pupils expanded in their focus on the hunter’s bare hands before gloves covered them again. “Same thing.” Other Legends suffered far more COSTUMES and logos and brand names than he did, in the name of more sponsorships, more opportunities, more money beyond what they made competing. Revenant, of course, couldn’t be motivated by any of that. He couldn’t even be forced into this model, Syndicate had merely happened to produce a design that the sim found agreeable. A particularly comfortable CAGE, decorated in a way he happened to like more than all his other varieties of metal prisons.

Bloodhound fell silent at this, goggles fixating on their work as they stacked and tied together the sticks and leaves until it was ready to be hauled over the fire so the smoking process could begin. “I suppose you are correct.” they had seen it themselves-—outfits decorated in strange branding, marks of companies and powerful groups willing to invest in living creatures. Often times, it made the hunter wonder if it was they and their fellow legends who were the hunters or if they were all mere prey for those in power.

The strips of meat were draped along the wood, high enough that the heat would not cook them but the smoke would reach them. “There is plenty to do and see on this new land. I am surprised you find yourself with little to occupy yourself with, andskoti.” between the fauna and the flora, the land  had a plethora of ground to cover and explore. “Stranger still you seek me out to cure your boredom.” they turned, helmet cocking. “I am hardly of interest to you outside of the arena. Outside of a fight.”