#apex-piloting

@apex-piloting

Artemis eyed the other Pilot with something along the lines of suspicion and interest. She arched an eyebrow and pursed her lips into a line, canting her head to one side. The bar was quiet at this time of year; most of the other customers were either civilians, or Grunts. But the moment she’d spotted someone who carried themselves like a Pilot, she became curious.

“Come here often?”

48. Do you hold grudges?

“Not usually. But sometimes… yeah, I very much do.”

46. Are you reliable?

“Of course I’m reliable. Sometimes. Most of the time. When it matters. Like in a combat environment. If I couldn’t be relied on in a firefight, what kind of Pilot would I be?”

“…”

“I still owe Tonis five bucks from that one time in Freeport…”

39. What type of music do you like?

“For general listening? Honestly, a lot of ambient stuff. I get enough bangers in dropping from orbit, so I can appreciate some quiet pieces every now and then.”

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

(Hmm…

I apologize, but there’s not really any I can think of at the moment. The only thing I can really say is that I don’t like it when characters consistently act like idiots in something that is supposed to treat itself seriously, but that’s kind of cheap and a copout.

@apex-piloting

Douglas didn’t feel safe in Angel City. Sure, he knew how to walk and talk, but this was firmly IMC territory. The Militia-sympathetic kept quiet, or died in the streets, as IMC police officers had authority to execute any confirmed “terrorists” on sight. Of course, life for everyone else in Angel City was relatively comfortable, so long as you didn’t live in the Harbor District.

But for Pilots like him, this was hostile territory. 24/7. In a week he’d be out of here and then he could rest easy, but just as the IMC held significant levels of extrajudicial power, they couldn’t cover everywhere. Angel City was a common environment for black market or otherwise “illegal” deals the IMC did not approve of, of which he was providing security to.

One stage was left in the deal. Until then, he needed to find somewhere secure to lay low. And fortunately, he knew exactly where.

The Pilot strolled through the doors of Texas 7. A bar with a very rounded and space-age aesthetic, Texas 7 was one-third nightclub, one-third bar and grill, and one-third neutral meeting ground. While their official policy was to support the IMC in all of their operations against illegitimate terrorist elements, it was no open secret amongst the augmented clientele that Texas 7 was owned and operated by none other than the Advocates, and utilized as one of the Frontier’s very few neutral meeting grounds.

There were people all around him. He knew most were Pilots, and of them, IMC-affiliated. Some believed in the Militia. But here, nobody cared about who you fought for. Without context, it would be like there was no war going on at all. The unspoken rule of the Texas 7 - like the rest of the Advocate social spaces - was that there was to be no fighting, regardless of who you had signed your loyalties to. The only way a neutral ground like this could work is if nobody held any precedent over anybody else, and if not even a fist was raised in anger.

This didn’t stop a few Pilots from violating the rules and trying to kill people. The ones that didn’t succeed were given warnings and thrown onto the streets - generally after being jumped by most of the rest of the bargoers. The ones that did? Provided they weren’t killed on the spot, they were always found dead within 24 hours, three pistol-calibre EATO smart-rounds lodged into their skulls.

The Advocates took rule violations very seriously.

DOUGLAS

Battle Intro: “Alone, on foot, versus an Apex Legion… time to put another notch on my Archer.”Victory: “This is Hammerhead. Confirming kill on Apex Titan. I’m gonna try to pull the datacore, see if we can’t get anything from it.”Half HP: “God damn, those grazes hurt!”Low HP: “FUCK… think that one got me in the gut..”Defeat: cough “VEGA, BRT-4592. Remember him. Avenge me.”Death: Let’s be real, if Doug dies here what’s left of him could fit in a shoebox.Assist: “Don’t worry, I’m not pulling your battery, much as I’d like to! Hose down the big guys, I’ve got the infantry!”Taunt: “I know your chassis details, buddy. Drop that gun and you’re defenseless. Well… besides the giant fists.”Reacting to Taunt: “Words that don’t have something to do with bullets? And here I was thinking SHIV was the only Legion like that!”Flee: “God damn, fuck this! I’m not that dumb!”Reacting to Flee: “This is Hammerhead. Hostile Apex Legion is retreating. Must have gotten a recall command from their Pilot.”Tie: “Shame about your owner… you’d make for a good Militia fighter.”Perfect Victory: “Textbook. Another one bites the dust.”Low HP Victory: ”VEGA… come pick me up? I’ve got a twenty mil in my gut. Heard that isn’t too healthy.”Finishing Move: Douglas runs up BRT’s Predator Cannon, kicking off of the top of him. Flipping through the air, he fires an Archer rocket and lands as the missile connects with the Legion. Like all cool people are contractually obligated to do, he doesn’t bother looking at the explosion.

VEGA

“Where are we?”

<Unknown, Guardian.> 312 hummed, ever-so-helpful.

He would have appeared hovering over her shoulder, but given that this world was neither safe nor unsafe, their best bet was for the Ghost to remain hidden, until things could be better determined.

“It looks inhabited, although by what, I can’t tell.”

<Judging from the looks of these buildings, I would say human made. Though nothing we’ve seen before. Not even resembling remnants of life before the Collapse. My conclusion: We are not in a familiar galaxy.>

“No kidding.”

The Hunter pulled up the hood of her cloak. While it did nothing to hide the fact that her face was already hidden from view thanks to her helmet, it did bring her some small measure of comfort. She dropped to a crouch, and sighted down the scope of her Amina-E7 sniper rifle, and suppressed a squawk of surprise as some towering, mechanical construct lumbered past, too close for comfort.

<Although you may think this unwise, I suggest you approach the construct and check it out. Whatever it is, it is not Cabal, so I would presume we will be relatively safe.>

“I see weapons.” The Awoken spoke through gritted teeth, but she shrugged and rose up, before darting out into what she hoped was the construct’s line-of-sight. If it even had one. There was no telling who or what being made this robot, and whether or not it in itself was a life form, of some kind.

Holding her sniper rifle loosely with the muzzle pointed downwards, she reached up with her free arm, and gave a wave. Hopefully it would grab the thing’s attention.

Oh, man.... I think I’m gonna answer this one for Artemis, because I’ve had the most ideas for her... 

One situation I’ve wanted to RP with her is where she’s been rendered mute, by some traumatic accident, either due to a close encounter with a Sangheili, or thanks to ONI....

“Hey dude.”