#moonrepeat

he's been in tight spots before, no doubt about it. hell he's even died a couple of times, nothing he could shake off later. there's still an age old burn of shame over being the one rescued; that, even for one second, he needed saving. taking the offered hand he swallows it down, and instead nods as he stands. ❝ 'preciate it, ❞ unconventional weapons and all. void knows drifter's no stranger to bizarre armaments. 

 he turns his head to acknowledge the other, pale moonlight gleaming off silvered visor. for all his compounded centuries of existence, there were few creatures in it he could claim to have met similar to present company. he stands much taller than kalymjor's avatar, though his presence is far from frightening. well, not so for am empyrean. 

his vigil had been over ruins long since abandoned and slowly being reclaimed by nature. weeks he had stood, statuesque, as the forest around them did it's work, bringing divine serenity to the overgrown environs. though he doesn't move and his hands remained resting over the pommel of his blade, standing vertically before him, he smiles. 

 ❝ i have that effect on . . . people. ❞ the somewhat stilted reply, usually said with an air of confidence, stems from the fact that he has no real clue how to refer to the being opposite him. were they wholly machine he would have kept his distance and avoided them all-together, but there is a life about them that eve's well tuned senses can pick up on, a vitality. from what his eyes can see, they appear largely mechanical. off-putting, to say the least, to his tastes.

The trooper presses himself up against the wall instinctively. Breaking open his double barrel shotgun, he manually extracts the single spent shell and slides a replacement into the chamber. In the few short weeks he's been trapped in the nebula, this is the first time he's heard a voice on one of the moons that wasn't another employee. A new threat? Voice mimic? But no one he's met here has an accent like that... vaguely familiar.

He leans out into the doorway, weapon raised. A lootbug skitters out of view somewhere down the dimly lit hallway — nothing worth the ammo. Safe, for now. Back in cover, he shines his flashlight at the ceiling in search of any security cameras, something he was not previously aware these facilities had.

"y' look an awful lot like my bodymate," @moonrepeat observes, unprompted. "lot more eyes, mind you, but the squiggly bits got me thinkin'. all you critters come from the same source?"

AND THOSE EYES OBSERVED THE OTHER, THROUGH THE OTHER. At them, and at what nestles betwixt the crevices of metal and wire-- - familiar, but there was very little that wasn't to the God // EVEN AMONGST THE GRAND EXPANSES OF THE UNIVERSE. “&– - My source, both time and location, far precedes its existence as its current state. But.... a similarity may be found.” Obscurity, intentional // POTENTIAL TO BE WHET. Curiosity was both its greatest tool and a direct link of existence, something it harbored and shepherd closer into the own clutches.

UNPROMPTED ASKS ARE ALWAYS ACCEPTED

the  last  of  the  foe  creatures  falls  before  him,  torn  asunder  by  lightning.  even  as  it  continues  to  arc  and  spark  between  his  fingers,  the  settling  dust  allows  a  moment  of  battle  reprieve.  arm  outstretched  and  waiting,  he  looks  down  to  the  other.  what  knowledge  he  possesses  of  them  is  lacking,  though  they  fought  on  his  side  in  the  skirmish,  and  that  is  enough  for  the  thunderer. 

❝  i  cannot  claim  the  same  of  you,  ❞  he  starts,  sounding  nearly  apologetic,  mjolnir  soon  returning  to  his  waiting  hand.  their  form  is  strange,  admittedly,  but  nothing  so  alien  that  thor  would  find  them  off-putting.  scientists  of  midgard  made  abominable  creations  enough  to  make  the  realms  shudder.  ❝  if  i  need  not  introduce  myself,  i  would  still  have  your  name.  t'would  do  my  honor  ill  indeed  to  forsake  an  ally  in  battle.  ❞