Mokujima Chris
SDCD Base - Front Entrance
11/16/2026
Monday - Late Morning
> Soul Worker: I'm the salty one? Really? It's me? Seriously? Hilarious? Super funny.
> Soul_Worker: Say what you want about me, but the other one is innocent.
> Soul_Worker: Fucking with your heads? You think that was us? We're trying to unfuck said stupid heads, kk?
> Soul_Worker: I don't want to hide either! But I'm the damn king in the chess game, if I lose, so do you!
> Soul_Worker: God you're so infuriating, stupid dumb glasses wearing-
> Soul_Worker: Oh goddammit, what's going on over there?
> Soul)Worker: Gimme a second, I'm not done with you! I swear to god if you die in the thirty seconds I'm not looking-
The words flood back in a stream of consciousness sort of way, the irate thoughts of an annoyed child that are just fired at you like a machine gun; indeed, the speed with which the entity responds makes it clear that these words are likely exactly that, her immediate thoughts on the situation being beamed back over this network to you, but-
"...!"
-the moment you reach the door back to your room, is the same moment another attack starts-!
The person on the other side fires the instant you come into range, as if they had been waiting for you to come back through the door to your room, the sound of some sort of gun roaring in the newfound darkness of your home, lighting up the room in a burst of golden flames. It's a straightforward attack, brazen and merciless in it's approach, like the attacker hadn't even gone that far into the room, like setting up shop in there had just been it's way of ambushing the next person that had decided to come waltzing in through the door, and-!
"Tch..."
It misses.
Or rather, you dodge it.
An overwhelming feeling of danger erupting a second before the gun goes off, as if your ever vigilant sixth sense had sensed the barrel being lined up with your knees through space and time itself, the knee-jerk reaction that is leaping back away from the door is one that keeps the bones of your right knee intact-!
But-!
---Dodging the shell itself isn't enough, no-!
A shredding pain, like the space itself around your leg had been torn away in the bullet's passing, and with it, whatever flesh of that limb had happened to get caught up in the vacuum of space left behind-! It certainly hurts, hurts in the same way that a blade hurts, screaming nerves suddenly being exposed to air, a newfound sensation that the internals of a body never quite get used to, but one that you bite back down on anyway, brain running through the calculations as you force yourself to step back through the door in spite of the newfound gash in your leg, after all...
---Energy on that is too high, little chance they can load a second one fast enough to get you.
No.
It was a single use item, whatever it was-!
Sixth sense says it's fine, so-!
You return the shot, the target is the shadow by the side of the door; it's hand is going to a holster on it's side, metal meeting metal as a robotic hand throws something on the ground before grasping at the hilt of a revolver, body twitching in mild discomfort as a bolt tears into her shoulder, eliciting only the smallest of grunts. In the darkness nearby Aleta finishes going up into the ceiling, her boots showing only so faintly in the darkness before they too are pulled up and disappear along with her legs, but-!
---You can't focus on that.
---Right now, it's a race.
---Will you reload first? Or will she grab her gun first?
And-!
---The final answer is that it's a tie.
Her gun raises, aimed at the center of your body in the same instant that you raise your crossbow to fire again, and the brief moment of hesitation that follows brings a certain sense of quiet to the room... Or at least it would, if not for all of the crashing and banging of metal outside, but-!
---It's you.
---Or at least, you're pretty sure it's you.
Unlike the Logan outside, this one has some pretty obvious differences to you. For one thing, one of her arms is metallic, not like a gauntlet, but like a prosthetic, no, definitely a prosthetic, you can tell just by looking at it that it's synced up to her nervous system, and the gun...
At first glance it doesn't look like much, just your average magi-tech gun, a revolver-type armagus, but...
...No.
There's something... Special about it...
But you can't tell what... It's not the spirit smith part of your brain that's saying so either, or rather, there's a few too many...
Personal inscriptions... On it...
Some sort of repeating sigil on the chambers? A black cross?
Either way...
It sort of makes your head hurt, as for the rest of her, well...
You're pretty sure you had that body suit too, but yours didn't have the obvious circuits running up and down it's form... Probably how she had snuck in, considering your own lack of stealth ability, and...
Assuming you two were identical of course, which was looking...
Less and less likely...
Still-!
"..."
That complete lack of expression is certainly like yourself...
What was she thinking?
Hard to say.
But...
"...Lock Primus? Neat."
She doesn't address her earlier attempt to blow out your knees, or lower her gun away from you, so...
"..."
It's a bit awkward.
As for Aleta, well...
You can feel her walking around in the room above, lightly, so lightly that you almost lose track of her every couple of steps, but...
She's doing something up there...
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Originally Posted by Flame-Haired Woman
