legionmissions | SILENT HORIZON - [Part 2: Facing the Faceless/Escape] [modplot]

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SILENT HORIZON - [Part 2: Facing the Faceless/Escape] [modplot]

Who| Everyone in Silent Horizon plot
What| Fighting the Faceless, a perilous escape, and a chance to have a breather
Where| In the In-Between, the Silent Horizon, and then the Legion Cruiser
When| Chronologically, only hours have passed in the outside world from when the team disappeared, but it's up to players whether their characters perceived it as being hours or days
Warnings/Notes| Gore, blood, body horror, all the usual

They hear the voice again, calling out to them. Not the Faceless, not the dark whispers of this world. It's the same tinny voice that warned them, that told them not to give into the Faceless' offer. It's the voice that told them their Phalanxed teammates can still be saved if the Faceless is killed in time before they die.

It calls out again. Wherever they are, whatever the landscape is doing, they can hear it.

"I know you have no reason to trust me. I know you've been probably hearing lots of voices in this place, telling you all kinds of things. But I'm trying to help you. There's a way to end this, to stop the Faceless. Just follow my voice. My language synthesizer is broadcasting in the telepathic range like telepathic earplugs and I've managed to reconfigure it to broadcast through the entire In-Between. You should be hearing it wherever you are and you should be able to use its broadcast strength to navigate. I think I've managed to secure it from the Faceless and his Phalanx but there's no way to be sure."

How loud the voice is changes as they get closer or farther away. They can use it to navigate, albeit very crudely. And now that it's clearer, it's far more recognizable: it's the voice of the Robotican in the horrible footage that played before they were taken -- the one that had his head knocked off.

"My name is N-45LEN/Keth Series. My organic crewmates call --" He pauses, and sounds distraught. "--called me Lenny. I was a crew member of the Silent Horizon. This entire dimension is called the In-Between. It's made up of the body of the Faceless and I'm currently trapped at its core. I can see you Legionnaires from here through...what appears to be some kind structure for processing what equates to ocular stimuli for the Faceless. If any of you get lost, I can see enough to guide you here."

If they need it, they'll find that he can give them individualized directions, no matter what the landscape does, and he can give them to multiple people simultaneously. Having a complex processor for a brain has its perks.

"My organic teammate and I managed to discover the core of the Faceless and its nature, but I'm currently incapacitated and Bob...he just lost it. He nearly destroyed what was left of me and ran off before we could stop the Faceless. I saw him eventually accept the Faceless' offer and turn. If you make it here where I am, you may be able to destroy the Faceless' body enough to kill him, save your teammates, and destroy this dimension once and for all."

A pause.

"And if you could maybe take me with you when you leave, uh, I would appreciate that. Like, a lot."

[ooc post here]

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"I've had worse."

She replies as a corner of her mouth twitches into a tired smile, just a little sad as she takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"How're you holding up?"

"Better now that I'm alone in my head." D's chip is in a storage unit on the adjacent bed- or. Well.

SHOULD be unless Locus has already come and collected him while he was dozing. Either way the unit is there and York doesn't find himself terribly concerned at the moment.

Connie shouldn't be surprised that York would pull him after all that's happened. She vaguely wonders when was the last time he did. Or could, rather, once they went on the run.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more to help you both sooner."

For a second the memory of York dangling from the wires threaded through the ceiling and black coils around her throat flashes to mind- she fights back a shudder, shaking her head as her fingers tighten in his hand with a shaky breath.

"We woke up in a pile of corpses. Her corpses." He doesn't really need to elaborate on that. "I'm not surprised D snapped."

Just the name had been a trigger from the get go- it's how he was broken. York's not surprised by the breaking-

Just that there was no word. No sign. No attempt at conversation. Just. A blank, horrible nothing leaving him half blind up till the change.

"Yeah, that would do it..."

A slow, measured breath escapes her as she shakes her head. She knew exactly who he was talking about. She frowns after a moment, remembering Cortana's description of Delta's confinement when Connie had been carrying York out of the ship.

"How is he?"

"Fuck if I know." He points to where the storage unit is. Or. Was. He's not looking. "It went fucking crazy and made a meat puppet out of me. I'm not really all that interested right now."

Later, maybe. When he can see HIS Delta and not the thing that hurt him? Sure.

But right now it's on the same level as the director as far as he's concerned.

Connie glances over to the spare bed on the other side of the room, making a mental note of the armour piece lying on the barely ruffled sheets and the change York's language. 'It', huh? It leaves a bitter taste at the back of her mouth, but then again, so does the memory of Delta's wires forcing their way in to try and bring her into the fold.

"Some space is probably best. I think we all need it."

Whether they'll get it is another matter. In Freelancer they could usually go lick their wounds and deal with their failures on their own without an audience but with the Legion? How are they supposed to deal with people and masses wanting to know everything about what they do?

"...This was a real shit show."

"We thought we knew what we were getting into." He thought he knew what they were gonna find. They'd seen this horror movie before- some of them have lived it. But this?

None of them could've seen this coming. None of them could've prepared.

Its a wonder they all got out of there alive- and with the Roboticans.

"...Everyone made it out, right?"

"As far as I know, yeah, we did. Some of us worse for the wear, though."

As he was no doubt keenly aware already. She gives him a small smile and his fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Grif and I ran Lenny back to safety."

"Being big damn heroes, huh? He thinks you're called Montana. Threw me for a loop." Monty being dead and all. God. How long has it been since he's thought of them? It's just one more reason for him to squeeze her hand back emphatically and mutter, "Taylor. My- uh. My real name. I don't really wanna be called 'york' anymore."

Okay not gonna linger on that.

"You did good. Like. real good. Like should run your own squad good."

Connie snorts, "Yeaaah. It's the first thing he called me when I got here."

It's easy enough to understand why he'd want to bury the past and everything Freelancer left them to carry. She dips her head in a quiet nod, "I got it."

And then she snorts again, this time with a shake of her head as she slips her hand out of his so she can lean her torso on the bed beside him, her chin perched on top of her crossed arms.

"Noooo, no. I'm. I'm not ready for that many lives in my hands." Not again, not so soon.

"Why not? You had like, fifty five, fifty six in your hands running Lenny back here, didn't you?" Ah, a stab at a pun. Easier to try and push everything down in the moment to encourage- well. Whatever the hell it is he's trying to encourage.

"I think you can handle running a group of six."

Connie thumps her head flat on the mattress and for a few second there's no other sound coming out of her other than a looooong sigh.

"That. Was terrible, Tay. And- these guys aren't as throwable or catchable as a robot head. Which is surprisingly aerodynamic."

"That's when you get a big mofo like maine to do the throwing." He never thought he'd miss Maine after the grenade- and yet? Here he is. Missing him just a little.

"But then you need someone just as big- or a few people to do the catching. Just me and I'd get flattened."

Connie was definitely missing Maine when she was carrying York out.

"...Do we have anybody Maine's size that might be up for it though?"

"Locus." He offers without missing a beat. Sure he'd held York down while he'd turned into a massive meat puppet for Delta but he's pretty sure Connie's quick enough in more ways than one to keep the upper hand. "Kinda stoic, though. And he tried to kill wash that one time or something, back home."

"I've spoken to him- wait, what?"

Connie lifts her head to stare at York, eyebrows raised.

"Opposite sides of a conflict kinda deal I think? Ask Wash to explain it to you because he said fuck and all to me when he found out we were friends except to tell locus to tell me about it and-" Wiggly fingers. "Locus is not good at talking about shit. BUT. He quit being bad and is trying to be good and is probably kicking himself about being bad again now and....I think the pain meds are kicking in."

"Yeaaah I think they might be."

But that's...information. She'll have to ask Wash when they get back and once they're not all bloody as hell. Shaking her head she rest a hand lightly over York's forehead.

"Maybe you should get some more sleep. Can I get you anything?"

"Three beers and a blowjob." Back in the Project if any of them were in medical, that was always his answer. He thinks he picked it up from Vermont who would always say it in that dry, posh voice full of disdain. Or. Maybe he'd been flirting? Taylor doesn't know. "Hey. Was Montana or Vermont Monty? Like. Which came first? I can't remember."

"You're the worst," she snorts but her tone is full of warmth. It might take a lot of time but he'll be okay.

"Hm...well, going by volume I'd say Montana usually did."

"I know Montana was taller but Vermont was a wiry little bast-" Wait. Not actual volume, decibels, give him a second before he starts cackling. "Connie, Connie please."

She shrugs a shoulder, grinning as she snickers. If he could laugh, he'll be fine.

"Hey, I learned it from you."

"Not my fault, the project was populated by the hot and the skilled." People that could kill him with their thighs and attractive enough that he'd let them do it.

"Seriously. And I always wondered why they needed a bikini audition when I was recruited."

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