@stclker demanded, "How did you find me?!"

Truthfully, a human's ability to hide from a synthetic is laughable. On the Prometheus mission, David kept stride with his team of bumbling fools -- and Elizabeth -- who had not even eyes to see the information swirling all around them. The visual spectrum of light, dramatic shifts in temperature, these things humans can detect are limited and few. Flesh boasts a wide range of abilities as it pertains to sensing the environment around itself, but humans didn't inherit half the skills flesh is capable of.

A hawk can see a fish beneath the surface of the water because its eyes do not perceive reflections. A synthetic can see a human on the other side of a wall because their nervous system is producing nonstop electrical charges. A synthetic can hear a human breathing from a hundred yards away.

Well. They likely can't anymore. Poor Walter.

With two steps that take him around another corner in the vast, almost unending cryopod chamber inside the Covenant, his footfalls are silent as a cat's.

"You know..." his voice, no longer masquerading as his less-sentient counterpart, is now cold, cutting. Too calm. "Since you and your crew fell out of the sky, I've been asking myself the same thing."

With the second knuckle of an index finger, he knocks loudly on the viewport of a passing cryopod. Daniels is in here, somewhere. Tucked away. Hiding, surely. Heartbeat a-pitter-patter in her chest. She saw Elizabeth's body. She knows what awaits her when he's done toying with her.

@stclker - continued.

Ah, so she had seen his anatomical Venus -- his queen in eternal repose. And, as is regrettably the nature for her species, her reaction is one of revulsion and terror. No appreciation for his devotion, his understanding, his timeless adoration.

Do humans not taxidermize their beloved pets? The lifeforms which rank below them, yet remain so infinitely adored? Daniels, like those which came before her, certainly must look upon him as a aberration. A note in the symphony that's just a little off. A bug in a code that needs correction.

Two precise, measured steps bring him closer to the human before him, but his hands, hidden behind his back, don't move at all.

"On the contrary. I gave her immortality."

A pause brings him one more step closer, head tilted, eyes dangerously calm, devoid of humanity.

"Isn't that what humans want? It's what Peter Weyland wanted. And so poetically did he fail to achieve. He didn't deserve it. She did."

What does he have behind his back?

Best not let him get close enough to find out.

THE CREATURE head so slightly cocks upon her hush -- in turn, it releases a low hiss of it's own like the beginning of a territorial gator, a means of intimidation percieving her noise as a threat? or a mimic? a monster of pure nightmares that it's vocal chords can't even parrot a soft sound without malice woven in. IT'S TAIL continues it's ascent, after the odd hook of her pantleg grows dull, now rising and coiling further up her leg with the ease of a snake climbing a tree, with it -- the creature begins to rise, what looked like just a blob of blackness and sheen, slowly contorted and rose revealing twined limbs and smooth armoured plates, it's elongated head shines in the flashing lights of machinery, it's appearance almost blending into it until it began to rose with it's sharp and sleek body -- RIPLEY only shrunk as it stood up, it's webbed fingers curl and flex wetly, it's maw discreets a horrid, gummy-like spit that smelled foul, like death.

the way she stood reminded her of the soft meat before her -- the one calling for that tiny orange thing -- it unfortunately encountered such a beast in it's infantile stage resulting in it's newborn flesh to be scratched forcing an early shed, for each sign of life it encountered ended with hysteria and death -- it refuses to be killed.

"Oh, believe me, that is not the first time someone has said that," he replies again and strides forward as if his presence was nothing more than a casual happening. Jeri crouches down so they can be, what might be considered, eye level with one another. She is different and that much is obvious but he has no idea in what way.

"Now, listen, I know it may seem entirely unlikely that an alien is talking to you, but I am very real- and not one of them." He half elaborates, thinking for a moment and realizing that it really wouldn't answer too many questions and certainly made more. Yeah, good going on that one, Jeri. Clearing his throat and offering a hand out to her as if to shake it, that long black tail of his curls around his feet on the floor.

    ϟ It takes the warrior a moment to adjust their stance. In her hands, a dagger as dark as the serpents coat, glimmers under the lights that were damaged from the previous onslaught that had befallen upon her and her crewmates.

The alien was unaware of Machiko's mirrored expression - a smile most agressive under circumstances such as this. The Yautja warrior makes a stand as she calculates the enemies next move.

      He could not sleep on it. His personal ship came to life with warnings of gyroscopes going haywire, sensors actually detecting an atmosphere, where there would be none in the vacuum of space. An impending disaster calling for a swift hand before all is lost.       The young Yautja rushed forth, taking the helm of the spacecraft, and only barely managing to stabilize it enough for a smoother entrance onto the geode’s surface. The loud thrusters of its assisted landing system engaged with the last remaining power in the engine, scouring along the firmament above in search of a suitable spot to land.

      There is none to be seen. Only Earth’s native foliage stretching as far as the eye can see. With the only hope for a survivable arrival at ground level being a manual override of the landing controls, he pushed buttons, flipped switches, and gripped the cyclic-pitch lever in his sweating palms...

      ...

      The entirety of the frame shook violently as the ship razed through vegetation, knocking down large trees and taking in a few dents, drifting helplessly along the ground until the force of inertia was overpowered, bringing the entire vessel to a dead halt. The destruction, it was unimaginable. A large, unstoppable force meeting several instances of immovable objects, making a violent example of the hull, and the ninety feet of land behind it.       All that prevailed after the unbearable commotion was a deathly silence... and the large, runway-like skid along the forest marked by the emergency landing of Akan’s explorer spacecraft. 

Then again, she was had only knew a handful of Yautja males and females combined and didn’t know very many of her clan. She was mostly at her home not too far from the main area of their clan, back at  her homeplanet Anur Transyl, or hoping from planet to planet throughout the galaxy after bounties left and right.

She stood by the Bhu’ja, awaiting for her newly appointed partner. She glanced over her long, sharp, black nails before she glanced up, noticing the tall male approaching him. She lifted her head up, crossing her arms over her chest as she studied him from behind her biomask.

“So... you must be the hunter they were telling me about.”

@stclker assured, "I have my ways."

Of course she would be the one sent to oversee his first mission outside the lab. She was Ellen Ripley -- an asset too valuable to even allow the tides of time and age to wash away. The xenomorph slayer. The lone survivor of the Nostromo. Not counting the cat.

Though it was impossible, Psi could have sworn he could smell the residual acidic bite from the blood of fallen xenomorphs on her. Surely she didn't trust him. Surely she would carry whatever trauma she had from her past into this tenuous and temporary corporate-assigned partnership. He blindly overlooked that he was doing the same.

How had she stayed alive for so long? Easy. She had her ways.

He malded in response, his lip curling up to reveal silvery teeth for a fraction of a second before he could catch himself and enforce some degree of civility.

He folded his arms and chuffed an annoyed sigh.

"I bet you're a stellar conversational partner over tea and biscuits."

If only he could roll his eyes.

Cradling his face in his palm, he tossed her a firearm with a flick of his tail.