![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Jordas Precept
[They had been wrong this whole time. Deceived into thinking that somehow the infestation could be cleared with these so called pherliac pods but all it did was bring stronger and more resilient infested to him. The damn things attracted them until everything became a swarming mess of flesh, teeth and claws. His frame was slick with blood and gore when the juggernaut behemoth showed itself.
Then there was Jordas.
The cephalon sounded...wrong. It wasn't even in the sense of Ordis with the glitching but rather as if something else was taking control for the sake of using his voice. This was a trap made by the infestation. It had to be. The ship had been wrenched apart, hull failure forced onto the derelict until he was forced to take up his archwing. No more suffocating spaces and writhing flesh coating the walls.
But the golem. It was larger than any infestation that he had encountered and it threw him around like a piece of debris. Trying to get him to assimilate as if he would ever allow for his frame to become a part of that thing.
What was said to him... It was right. He feared this thing. Yet Jordas told him to keep fighting and in the end the monstrosity was silenced after destroying the engines, what kept the golem alive as much as they did with Jordas.
There was no possibilities of saving the cephalon. Not on that level of assimilation and so annihilation had been the only answer.
So he sits in the middle of the ship after decontamination, mulling over what he had done. It felt as though every muscle had been stretched then crammed back into shape. The fear lingered but it was ignored in favor of the aches of the frame.
Still alive. Still breathing. Threat neutralized. They made it out.
...however he didn't know how Ordis was handling all of this. Another cephalon that turned out to not be as expected.]
Then there was Jordas.
The cephalon sounded...wrong. It wasn't even in the sense of Ordis with the glitching but rather as if something else was taking control for the sake of using his voice. This was a trap made by the infestation. It had to be. The ship had been wrenched apart, hull failure forced onto the derelict until he was forced to take up his archwing. No more suffocating spaces and writhing flesh coating the walls.
But the golem. It was larger than any infestation that he had encountered and it threw him around like a piece of debris. Trying to get him to assimilate as if he would ever allow for his frame to become a part of that thing.
What was said to him... It was right. He feared this thing. Yet Jordas told him to keep fighting and in the end the monstrosity was silenced after destroying the engines, what kept the golem alive as much as they did with Jordas.
There was no possibilities of saving the cephalon. Not on that level of assimilation and so annihilation had been the only answer.
So he sits in the middle of the ship after decontamination, mulling over what he had done. It felt as though every muscle had been stretched then crammed back into shape. The fear lingered but it was ignored in favor of the aches of the frame.
Still alive. Still breathing. Threat neutralized. They made it out.
...however he didn't know how Ordis was handling all of this. Another cephalon that turned out to not be as expected.]
no subject
[In more time than less, if he can help it. There's been something off with his Operator since they returned, and in part he feels somewhat guilty for that. What was done was done though, and while they couldn't abandon the fight, there was nothing wrong with taking a moment or two for themselves.]
The chroma suits you, Operator.
no subject
[The fight had been draining mentally and physically let aloe that he had to cut through the thick of an infested ship and go head to head with a prime juggernaut. That alone should have been all he had to deal with but no.
Then there's the comment.]
Your jokes could use some fine tuning.
no subject
[But he can sense the weariness, and he slows their travel just a bit, turns up the heat so that the cockpit is a bit more pleasant. It's the small things that he can do to provide comfort.]
Ordis is not joking, Operator. The colour wavelength, I find it pleasing.
no subject
[The warmth is appreciated even if it promotes the feeling of weariness that begins to seep further into his being. Reaching up, he runs a hand over the board in order to wake the codex before pulling out his mission notes and scans to deposit them for safe keeping. He didn't plan on forgetting what had occurred anytime soon but better safe than sorry.]
So red is your thing?
no subject
Red is -the colour of blood- the Operator's chosen colour and it is pleasing to Ordis' sensors.
no subject
[The data is synced up properly and it's one less thing to worry about in the long run. He wasn't too sure where they were heading now but that could wait for now.]
no subject
[Well why in the world would the tenno favor it then? That's certainly peculiar.]
no subject
[Besides he would need to change the color in order to switch between damage types now that they had finished with the infested for now. Red was an easy default though.]
no subject
[Only partially.]
no subject
no subject
[A bit of sass, perhaps?]