#phasmophobiia

@phasmophobiia

Night City was a HIVE.

Information carried through an elaborate network of the tunnels and webs by all different clades of insect. In his time spent watching the city from high perches and dark shadows, that was what it reminded him of, as he reflected back on the evolution of its architecture, the movement of its traffic: ANTS. Moving. Living. Dying.

No one with any real idea of the scale of their lives.

Tonight his target had been in the nest of MAELSTROM. Chromed up zealots he preferred to avoid. His cultists had come from there. Had no idea if there were any left now. Didn't want to find out. But an ex Hammond scientist was among their ranks. Revenant needed to pick his brain - or whatever was left of it.

MaxTac's arrival made them all scatter like roaches. Revenant hung back, camouflaged amid the dark and metal of old, rotted industry. He recognized this group. Skull masks. Cute. Had they followed him here? A bystander might have overheard his last conversation... MaxTac meatbags could have picked up where he was headed. Or was it coincidence, and they were here for someone else? Maelstrom was a veritable buffet of CYBERPSYCHOS.

All that fancy tactical gear didn't change how easy it was to snap a neck. The simulacrum had killed one and maimed another before he was engaged with by the largest of the group. This one moved different. Reminded him of-

His hip joint was jammed with a knife, and some kind of... shock followed. He lost a couple seconds before coming to on the ground, system buzzing and burning, optics flickering. Trying to delve into shadow just made his processors stutter and something in him sting. Vocoder produced a short groan, its edges clipped with crackling static.

🤕

"Alright, let me see what I can do. . ."

Hands are gentle and chill to the touch against the skin, examining the rather fresh bullet hole located within his tricep. Nothing of a life-threatening injury, but one that does have her head lightly tilting with a soft breath escaping her.

"Considering there's no exit wound and from what im seeing, it looks like. . .bullet is in the muscle. I'll need to remove it before I can get this stitched up."

@phasmophobiia : DAZE + reverse ! 》scenario starters

It spoke to just how old his tech was that EMPs affected him at all. He was sure there had to be some technology by now that was proofed against it... But even if there was, it wasn't like an UPGRADE would be in the picture for him anyway.

It wasn't feasible to get work done on every shell. He had the time, he had the money. But it would be too annoying. Didn't like hands inside him when he could help it.

Optics flickered. His senses BUZZED, like the tingling of waking a limb that had fallen asleep, except through his whole system. He used to have nightmares about the killing machine in his reflection. Seeing its face. Sometimes he still did; so he wasn't sure, at first, when he woke to the blurred image of a skull, whether or not he was DREAMING.

Rumors and gossip were no secret among the shadows, each harboring some aspect of intel almost unique to the others, of course, only if approved by the man in charge himself. It wasn't uncommon for bullying to happen when certain facts about one another came to light. A secret mistress, an ailing mother or even someone bringing their pet on board were leaked at times. It was an ever changing focus as to what the fixation would be next.

She had counted her lucky streak until now, always concerned with her true affiliations getting out, yet sitting in the mess hall eating at a cooling MRE of spaghetti she had heard the rustling of a wrapper behind at first but then forcefully a hand displayed over the shoulder in front of her a small peanut M&M bag. The realization had taken a moment after processing the serrated edges of yellow, the m's near touching as she recalled a rumor back to her days of basic training. How she had been labeled a 'barracks bunny' in exchange for the particular candy, an exaggerated story that bore no shred of truth, though fact meant very little when faced with blind stupidity.

How her bother in arms smiled at his work as she turned to face him, a grin to rival hers that she typically wore when pressed and was then shrugged off at will. However, somehow the feeling of shielding herself in a layer of cold indifference simply didn't fit the growing rage borne from exhaustion. She had simply emptied the contents of her food on top of his head in response and earning her a near right hook in advance had she not already sprung from her seat.

A fight ensued and crowd to match it as fists flew in succession. Each combatant a near match of skill, however there was something off in her, she could feel the exhaustion from the previous mission washed over her as she swung too slow and her footing disjointed as he overtook and slammed her face first into the ground. Despite the world spinning she had managed to roll onto her back before she was pinned to her place below, somehow a knife beginning to press at the unblemished skin of her neck. She fought to keep it from going any further, pressure applied to the others hands until, as if by miracle, her aggressor is torn away. Through fluttering lids she is hoisted upward as if she was no more heavy than a kitten picked up by its scruff. Strong arms carry her as she tries blinking away the headache that's setting in, blurry vision becoming clear as she is set down unceremoniously. His dark gaze was the first thing she noticed, as if pondering some withheld judgment of scrutiny she was sure borderlined a evaluation of her skill or rather tumble.

by the way, i just saved your life.

"My hero.", words spoken almost as a matter of fact, pending on a semi-huff of nerves exhaled through nostrils. Her blood beginning to cool as digits extend to touch the part of her neck that starts to trickle hair thin droplets of crimson, smearing across it in place as her other hand works to adjust the white cotton T-shirt of her fatigues that had untucked near halfway out of her pants in the scuffle. she had had worse days.

@phasmophobiia from here

" you probably still had adrenaline going five minutes ago." she's swift to get to him, help him sit down if he needed the assistance, considering the sway to his stance. Soldiers - always so stubborn til the last second.

"Yes."

He squints ever so slightly at the question. Suspicious - or silently wondering who was spreading around his name for strangers. Nobody that wanted to stay on good terms with him clearly. Not that he seems inspired to press the stranger on who it was.

They'll reveal themselves. Careless minds always do. For now, he eyes his company. Seemingly annoyed that his single answer wasn't enough to make him walk away already.

"Well? What do you want?"