- Location
- The Infinite Nothingness
Cool guns are great that's why i am so happy I just bought borderlands 3.
Paradoxical [Destiny/Worm Post-GM]
- Thread starter ensou
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- Christchurch, NZ
It's possible to read this as "Bullets to disable her [by means of being] surgery to seal her power away." and it's not clear what "disable" would be in this context other than "sealing her power", and this is Contessa: doing brain surgery with a revolver is completely on theme for her, so I'm leaning towards the general consensus. That said, it's a completely academic distinction!
Evil Atlas
Inspector of Details
- Location
- Denial
- Pronouns
- He/Him
And it's also worth noting that this is just Taylor's speculation on what happened, so who knows what actually did it. Given the lack of contradictory evidence, it's quite possible that this was one of those cases where a character is making a "guess" but it's really the author saying what happened, but there's really no way to be sure on that. And Contessa did do ballistic brain surgery either way.
Okibruez
(Verified Mid-Boss)
- Location
- Dreams
I'm honestly kind of amused. Everyone's fussing about Contessa's scheming when she's been dead for at least a couple centuries by this point, couldn't have seen this coming, and the whole result of this is that Taylor's kicking alien ass on the side of aliens, rather than humanity.
And she has a cute alien girlfriend because of this.
Really, that's everything we need to know.
And she has a cute alien girlfriend because of this.
Really, that's everything we need to know.
I'm just super excited you've updated. I love your stories, so I hope you keep doing well.
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Eliera
ensou
Magical G̶i̶r̶l̶ Servant Mordred-chan
- Location
- NEW YORK CITY!??
- Pronouns
- She/Her
14 Years Ago, Merina
Their first meeting is not like stars bursting or sudden knowledge or finding solitude. It is not devotion or lust or comfort.
It is two random people realizing they are the only ones left because they've stayed too long in the bar, lost in their thoughts—their friends having already left—and getting kicked out at far-too-early in the morning to stand awkwardly on the curb.
Eliera looks at her companion-in-circumstance. It's not that she doesn't know who she is. At this point everybody in Merina probably knows about Mara's pet Guardian-Guard. She didn't ever expect to meet her, much less at three in the morning outside a bar, but she supposes even Guardians have things they want to brood about.
The Guardian looks over at her, and Eliera can't help but think how plain she is. Or… maybe just different? Her skin is pale in a way that you'd never see on an Awoken. At first she's unnerved by the eyes, how lightless they are and how lifeless they seem because of it, but then she realizes they do glow, but only very very faintly.
There's no flows of light dancing under her skin, or facial tattoos or anything to give her away, and yet she still knows that this woman next to her, despite all her plainness, could destroy her in an instant, such is the power she holds in her fingertips.
"How far are you?"
Eliera blinks slowly. She's not very drunk, not anymore, but she's definitely tired, and it takes a few seconds to register and then process the question.
Oh.
She groans resignedly. "Too far. And too close for the hyperrail. Thirty minutes walking."
The Guardian looks at her. "Would you like me to walk you home?"
She thinks about it. It wouldn't be the first time she's done it herself. But still… she would feel more comfortable having someone with her, much less a Guard or a Guardian. "Okay."
Her feet turn and begin to take her on her route home, and the other woman walks next to her. She's completely silent in her footsteps, and Eliera has to wonder if she got that from becoming a Guard or if it came with being a Guardian.
She wonders about her brother and if he walks like that now.
They don't say anything for the entire half-hour, just walking beside each other through the night streets and urban neighborhoods of the city until they stand in front of her building.
Eliera looks over at the Guardian. "Thanks."
She nods, and it's only then that Eliera sees the tiredness that hangs on her like a cloak, the weariness. "How far are you?"
The human blinks. "Ah. Um. Zherran?"
For a second she thinks she misheard, because why would a Guard be there, but no she'd heard right. It wasn't too far, but it was the complete opposite direction from the way they'd come from the bar.
In that moment she finds she can sympathize with this woman. "I've got a couch you can have if you want."
The Guard looks blindsided, but it slips away quickly. She nods. "Yeah, okay."
They go up her stairs, and Eliera watches with tired curiosity at the way Weaver's boots dissolve into motes of light once they enter her apartment.
She points out the couch and then brings out a blanket, before retreating to her own room to fall into her bed.
When she wakes in the morning the only sign the Guardian had been there was the blanket, folded on the couch.
It is less than a week later that she sees her again, at a totally different bar.
The Guard sits by herself, and in the entire time she's been there so far Eliera doesn't think she's ever gotten a second drink.
"Lonely night?"
She's surprised at herself, if she's being honest. Her feet took her there without thinking, and it was the first words that came to her mind.
The black-haired human looks over at her, as though she didn't know she was there, though they both know she did. She shrugs a shoulder. "Everybody else was busy."
Eliera hums and sits down at the table, looking at the notepad on the woman's right, with a bunch of designs for… guns?
"What about you?"
She blinks and looks back at the other woman, then turns to glance at the group she'd just wandered over from. "Eh. They were getting boring."
The brunette quirks an eyebrow. "So you came over here?"
Eliera gave a grin. "I mean, what's more interesting than the only human in the Reef, right?"
The other just stared at her incredulously. "Not many people see it like that."
The Awoken looks at her curiously. "How do they see it?"
She snorts. "Seriously? I'm a human Risen girl intruding in a place I don't belong."
Risen?
"But… haven't you been here for like, years?" Eliera asked.
"More like the better part of a decade." Weaver returned. "But how old are the Awoken? How old are you? How many memories do you have, and how much is that in comparison?"
Ah. Well that sucked.
"Well, I'm Eliera," she offered, in lieu of beginning to touch on that minefield.
"Weaver. Of Her Majesty's Royal Awoken Guard," the other woman introduced.
"Nice to meet you," Eliera responds, and Weaver gives a half-smile in her direction. "So… Risen? Not Guardian?"
Weaver gives a large sigh, like this is something that happens often but she's resigned to. "Yes. Guardians protect Earth and their City. Guards protect the Reef and the Awoken. I'm Risen, a Lightbearer, but that doesn't make me a Guardian." Weaver looked over at her. "At least, not the kind of Guardian you mean. Just like being Awoken doesn't make you a Corsair or a Guard."
Eliera nods. So it's a matter of being versus occupation? "Why?"
Weaver smiles, a bit sad, a bit self-deprecating. "If I had a silver for ever time I was asked that… I could say 'because I can' or 'because I want to' and both of those are true, I guess. But really, it was just a matter of circumstance and choice. I've never been to Earth. I woke up on Mars and fought my way out through the Cabal and Vex. Circumstances beyond my control meant I ended up here, on Vesta, and it was the first time I'd been with other people. I couldn't leave easily, so I just sort of… settled in.
"I ended up accidentally drawing attention to myself and was brought in front of the Queen. She told me I could leave… or I could learn how to properly help people, just like everybody else who wants to does. I think she knew how attached I'd gotten to Vesta after Mars." The Risen woman shrugs. "It wasn't a hard decision." Weaver looked at her. "What do you do?"
Eliera hums. "This and that. Eusocio-climactic evaluation, which is only like once every five years. Trigram design. Stuff."
"Stuff."
Eliera nods, putting her cheek on her fist. "Stuff." She glanced down at the sheet of paper again. "You design weapons?"
"…Sometimes?" Weaver responds
"That's cool."
The conversation dies a swift and sudden death there.
She still finds it more interesting than the rest of the bar.
Eliera half-wonders why she's here. She'd heard about it from a friend of a friend of a friend who knew a Fallen that there was supposedly a big fight happening at one of the Fallen pit-arenas in Zherran, but that wasn't as notable as the fact that one of the participants was supposed to be Weaver.
By that point rumors usually break down, but she's curious enough to look into it anyways.
…Which is why she's currently moving towards one of the few empty spots on the nearly-full scrap metal bleachers that surround the central pit that she can see. It's much busier than she expected, and the crowd is ninety-five percent Fallen (which she had expected), but it's still a bit unusual.
She squeezes past Fallen and the one other Awoken on the row until she reaches the spot.
"What's happening?" she asks over the already-present murmur of the rest of the audience.
The Fallen she sits beside hisses excitedly. "Proving fight." They turn to her and grin with needle-teeth set behind a clear mask, a ragged shawl wrapped around their neck and shoulders. "Are you here for Mraskis?"
Eliera looks at the Fallen. "Who?"
"The Weaver. Tonight is a very important fight. You chose to come on a good night, Awoken. Tonight she fights for acceptance into the House. To prove herself worthy," the Fallen says, with a clarity she doesn't expect. "Worthy of Wolf-name, worthy of her name. Though at this point it is mostly just a… formality, as you would say." The Fallen's grin widens.
"But… she's not Fallen."
"She may wear soft-skin. But Houses are kin, and she, she is very much kin," says the Fallen, before they turn to look at the dirt circle-pit and grumbles, "…Should have been born six-limbs and Eliksni. Maybe then wouldn't have so many problems now."
Eliera watches as the two metal doors on the opposites of the pit-walls hiss open. The first to emerge is an eight-foot-tall Fallen, who Eliera assumes must be a Captain from size. 'Assumes', because instead of the white-painted metal plate armor and leather wrappings is the dark, purple-tinted chitin of their exoskeleton. The only thing they wear is a simple mouth-only ether-mask with a compressed gas cylinder on one side, and a loincloth with the Wolves' sigil that could have been a banner before this, and probably was. They carry a set of shock-swords, though their lower arms hold nothing.
The second is Weaver. Much like the Captain, all she has is a banded strip of cloth—royal purple—around her breasts and a matching loincloth, though Eliera notes that hers is blank. With her skin bared Eliera can see the black and white tattooed crown, shield, and knives that mark her as one of the Queen's Guard. She also carries a pair of shock-swords, though they look like they had been scaled down to her size.
"Fight in natural armor only, as tradition," the Fallen next to her says, and Eliera is grateful for the commentary even if she didn't ask for it. "Very old tradition. Very bloody."
"Bloody?"
The Fallen looks at her. "They fight for House honor, bright-eyes. What is honor for House if you are not willing to shed blood for it? What honor do you have if you haven't bled?" The Eliksni turns back to the ring. "But Mraskis has already bled much for the House. Both in pit and out. More blood than one can survive without."
Eliera looks at the woman down in the pit and wonders how many layers she has, how much she has done to earn the respect she hears, how she did it.
The two fighters stand at opposite ends of the ring as another Captain, armored, teleports into the ring. He growls something out and Weaver answers in the same tongue, her voice sounding completely different with the alien language than it had when they'd spoken before. The crowd around them roars in obvious approval.
"He asks if she is willing to forsake House and Kell to become Wolf. She says she cannot forsake her Kell for her Kell is Wolf Kell and her House is Wolf House, and she will prove herself to be worthy with blood and strength," the Fallen translates. "She is good with words. Could have said had no Kell or House and taken the path of the wanderer. Easy path. Instead she takes the path of the exiled. Her trial will have no mercy."
Weaver scrapes the spines of her swords against each other, sparks and Arc energy flying, the Fallen on the other end of the pit crouching, Weaver mirroring them.
The armored Captain teleports out, and at some unseen signal both of the fighters rush towards the center, steel clashing as Weaver somehow manages to block both of her opponents' swords. Weaver is tall for a woman, and yet she is still towered over by the Fallen above her, who is pressing down with all their strength.
She breaks off, stepping back, before pressing forward again. The two exchange blows, each getting closer to skin and chitin than the last, but Eliera is still struck by how at home Weaver seems with the shock-blades.
"Should be. Trained with Narisk for six years," the Fallen next to her says, and Eliera realizes she spoke out loud. "Know Captains who have done less."
The first blood to fall is red, a slash on Weaver's upper arm that stands out starkly against her pale skin, slipping down to drip onto the sand and dirt.
"Doesn't she heal?" Eliera questions. One of the things everyone knew about Guardians was they didn't stay down.
"Mraskis does not use Light-tricks in the pit. After, yes. Saw her break whole arm once, insisted she could still go on," the Fallen grins at her. "Match was ended, but her point was made."
The two clash twice, a series of interleaved dual-hand parries that Eliera cannot begin to imagine the coordination required for, before blue joins the red at their feet.
"How long do they fight?"
"Until one yields," says the Fallen.
"What if Weaver loses?"
The Fallen hiss-laughs. "She would be judged on her performance. But do not worry. She will not lose. There is a reason she does not fight in the pits as much as she used to."
"Why?"
"Because she is the…" they motion as though looking for the phrase, "yes, defending champion in usual fight-sets. But today, it is different. Kamis does not fight in the pits, but he is very, very good. But Weaver will still win."
Eliera watches the way they break off again, the way Weaver's skin shines from sweat and blood drips at her feet, but there's a wild grin on her face and satisfaction in her eyes. Muscles flex and relax as she moves with absolute surety, and Eliera knows that it has to be the Light she carries that makes her so much stronger than her size would suggest—even if she is not actively wielding it.
The fight continues, silver and sparks and Arc-energy flying, more wounds added to both, though both avoid serious injuries. There is a large gash across Weaver's front and a messy tear across her left thigh, a slice on her cheek and numerous cuts criss-crossing her forearms.
Her opponent is no better off, however. The Arc blades seem to just ignore the chitin of his exoskeleton, and blue leaks from particularly deep cuts and any wounds that touched the softer areas at his joints.
The crowd watches with almost palpable energy and excitement.
It ends as abruptly as it started, with one of Kamis' blades flying off and impaling itself into the pit's wall from a complicated twist-scissor-flip movement of Weaver's swords that Eliera is still having trouble registering because of how fast it was.
In an instant Weaver has stepped forward into his guard, and there is a sword at the Fallen's neck and another with its edge against the wrist of the hand that still holds the last shock-blade.
The audience goes wild, standing and yelling.
He growls something, his head bowed, and Weaver steps back, her swords lowered. Her chest is heaving from exertion, but she doesn't hesitate to transfer the sword in her right hand to also being held in her left, edge facing her, and holds out her hand to him.
He grasps her arm and their blood runs together, and suddenly Eliera can see how something as savage as a blood sport can have such significance in a civilized culture.
Kamis turns to the crowd and yells, though she can only catch a little before it is drowned out.
"He says, 'This is my sister, Weaver of the House of Wolves, and as she would fight I would fight beside her,'" the Fallen next to her says with a laugh. "None who complain want to fight Kamis."
The tall Eliksni strides to the side of the pit, and with a sharp yank pulls his sword from the pit, before turning to Weaver and bowing, swords spread. She returns the gesture. They both straighten, and his mask moves once more.
"He says 'Thank you for the fun'," comes the translation.
He then walks to the door and exits the ring once it hisses open. Weaver stands in the middle of the ring, still breathing heavily, but she bows once again, this time to all those in the stand, turning so that they all get a view.
The crowd roars its approval, and Weaver straightens back up, taking one more deep breath before moving to her side of the arena and exiting.
"Was good. But still much to do," the Fallen beside her speaks. They turn to her, once more grinning behind the clear rebreather mask as they lift a hood that sat around their neck. "Tell her that Marix wishes her well and will be watching."
The Fallen slips away into the crowds, almost seeming to disappear as soon as they are out of direct sight.
Eliera turns to look back down at the sand and dirt speckled with patches of the blood of two different people, and wonders if associating with Weaver will make everything this interesting.
A/N: The first of the Eliera-Weaver history chapters. Just a little taste, since I felt like 3k was a good place to end this.
Weaver and the way she twists how she remembers the past to match her mindset reminds me a lot of (and is partially a holdover from) Taylor and her justifications.
We don't learn a lot about El from here, but we get hints. Next chapter will… either be Weaver getting her augments or her choosing to join the Guard and first days as a part of it.
Their first meeting is not like stars bursting or sudden knowledge or finding solitude. It is not devotion or lust or comfort.
It is two random people realizing they are the only ones left because they've stayed too long in the bar, lost in their thoughts—their friends having already left—and getting kicked out at far-too-early in the morning to stand awkwardly on the curb.
Eliera looks at her companion-in-circumstance. It's not that she doesn't know who she is. At this point everybody in Merina probably knows about Mara's pet Guardian-Guard. She didn't ever expect to meet her, much less at three in the morning outside a bar, but she supposes even Guardians have things they want to brood about.
The Guardian looks over at her, and Eliera can't help but think how plain she is. Or… maybe just different? Her skin is pale in a way that you'd never see on an Awoken. At first she's unnerved by the eyes, how lightless they are and how lifeless they seem because of it, but then she realizes they do glow, but only very very faintly.
There's no flows of light dancing under her skin, or facial tattoos or anything to give her away, and yet she still knows that this woman next to her, despite all her plainness, could destroy her in an instant, such is the power she holds in her fingertips.
"How far are you?"
Eliera blinks slowly. She's not very drunk, not anymore, but she's definitely tired, and it takes a few seconds to register and then process the question.
Oh.
She groans resignedly. "Too far. And too close for the hyperrail. Thirty minutes walking."
The Guardian looks at her. "Would you like me to walk you home?"
She thinks about it. It wouldn't be the first time she's done it herself. But still… she would feel more comfortable having someone with her, much less a Guard or a Guardian. "Okay."
Her feet turn and begin to take her on her route home, and the other woman walks next to her. She's completely silent in her footsteps, and Eliera has to wonder if she got that from becoming a Guard or if it came with being a Guardian.
She wonders about her brother and if he walks like that now.
They don't say anything for the entire half-hour, just walking beside each other through the night streets and urban neighborhoods of the city until they stand in front of her building.
Eliera looks over at the Guardian. "Thanks."
She nods, and it's only then that Eliera sees the tiredness that hangs on her like a cloak, the weariness. "How far are you?"
The human blinks. "Ah. Um. Zherran?"
For a second she thinks she misheard, because why would a Guard be there, but no she'd heard right. It wasn't too far, but it was the complete opposite direction from the way they'd come from the bar.
In that moment she finds she can sympathize with this woman. "I've got a couch you can have if you want."
The Guard looks blindsided, but it slips away quickly. She nods. "Yeah, okay."
They go up her stairs, and Eliera watches with tired curiosity at the way Weaver's boots dissolve into motes of light once they enter her apartment.
She points out the couch and then brings out a blanket, before retreating to her own room to fall into her bed.
When she wakes in the morning the only sign the Guardian had been there was the blanket, folded on the couch.
It is less than a week later that she sees her again, at a totally different bar.
The Guard sits by herself, and in the entire time she's been there so far Eliera doesn't think she's ever gotten a second drink.
"Lonely night?"
She's surprised at herself, if she's being honest. Her feet took her there without thinking, and it was the first words that came to her mind.
The black-haired human looks over at her, as though she didn't know she was there, though they both know she did. She shrugs a shoulder. "Everybody else was busy."
Eliera hums and sits down at the table, looking at the notepad on the woman's right, with a bunch of designs for… guns?
"What about you?"
She blinks and looks back at the other woman, then turns to glance at the group she'd just wandered over from. "Eh. They were getting boring."
The brunette quirks an eyebrow. "So you came over here?"
Eliera gave a grin. "I mean, what's more interesting than the only human in the Reef, right?"
The other just stared at her incredulously. "Not many people see it like that."
The Awoken looks at her curiously. "How do they see it?"
She snorts. "Seriously? I'm a human Risen girl intruding in a place I don't belong."
Risen?
"But… haven't you been here for like, years?" Eliera asked.
"More like the better part of a decade." Weaver returned. "But how old are the Awoken? How old are you? How many memories do you have, and how much is that in comparison?"
Ah. Well that sucked.
"Well, I'm Eliera," she offered, in lieu of beginning to touch on that minefield.
"Weaver. Of Her Majesty's Royal Awoken Guard," the other woman introduced.
"Nice to meet you," Eliera responds, and Weaver gives a half-smile in her direction. "So… Risen? Not Guardian?"
Weaver gives a large sigh, like this is something that happens often but she's resigned to. "Yes. Guardians protect Earth and their City. Guards protect the Reef and the Awoken. I'm Risen, a Lightbearer, but that doesn't make me a Guardian." Weaver looked over at her. "At least, not the kind of Guardian you mean. Just like being Awoken doesn't make you a Corsair or a Guard."
Eliera nods. So it's a matter of being versus occupation? "Why?"
Weaver smiles, a bit sad, a bit self-deprecating. "If I had a silver for ever time I was asked that… I could say 'because I can' or 'because I want to' and both of those are true, I guess. But really, it was just a matter of circumstance and choice. I've never been to Earth. I woke up on Mars and fought my way out through the Cabal and Vex. Circumstances beyond my control meant I ended up here, on Vesta, and it was the first time I'd been with other people. I couldn't leave easily, so I just sort of… settled in.
"I ended up accidentally drawing attention to myself and was brought in front of the Queen. She told me I could leave… or I could learn how to properly help people, just like everybody else who wants to does. I think she knew how attached I'd gotten to Vesta after Mars." The Risen woman shrugs. "It wasn't a hard decision." Weaver looked at her. "What do you do?"
Eliera hums. "This and that. Eusocio-climactic evaluation, which is only like once every five years. Trigram design. Stuff."
"Stuff."
Eliera nods, putting her cheek on her fist. "Stuff." She glanced down at the sheet of paper again. "You design weapons?"
"…Sometimes?" Weaver responds
"That's cool."
The conversation dies a swift and sudden death there.
She still finds it more interesting than the rest of the bar.
Eliera half-wonders why she's here. She'd heard about it from a friend of a friend of a friend who knew a Fallen that there was supposedly a big fight happening at one of the Fallen pit-arenas in Zherran, but that wasn't as notable as the fact that one of the participants was supposed to be Weaver.
By that point rumors usually break down, but she's curious enough to look into it anyways.
…Which is why she's currently moving towards one of the few empty spots on the nearly-full scrap metal bleachers that surround the central pit that she can see. It's much busier than she expected, and the crowd is ninety-five percent Fallen (which she had expected), but it's still a bit unusual.
She squeezes past Fallen and the one other Awoken on the row until she reaches the spot.
"What's happening?" she asks over the already-present murmur of the rest of the audience.
The Fallen she sits beside hisses excitedly. "Proving fight." They turn to her and grin with needle-teeth set behind a clear mask, a ragged shawl wrapped around their neck and shoulders. "Are you here for Mraskis?"
Eliera looks at the Fallen. "Who?"
"The Weaver. Tonight is a very important fight. You chose to come on a good night, Awoken. Tonight she fights for acceptance into the House. To prove herself worthy," the Fallen says, with a clarity she doesn't expect. "Worthy of Wolf-name, worthy of her name. Though at this point it is mostly just a… formality, as you would say." The Fallen's grin widens.
"But… she's not Fallen."
"She may wear soft-skin. But Houses are kin, and she, she is very much kin," says the Fallen, before they turn to look at the dirt circle-pit and grumbles, "…Should have been born six-limbs and Eliksni. Maybe then wouldn't have so many problems now."
Eliera watches as the two metal doors on the opposites of the pit-walls hiss open. The first to emerge is an eight-foot-tall Fallen, who Eliera assumes must be a Captain from size. 'Assumes', because instead of the white-painted metal plate armor and leather wrappings is the dark, purple-tinted chitin of their exoskeleton. The only thing they wear is a simple mouth-only ether-mask with a compressed gas cylinder on one side, and a loincloth with the Wolves' sigil that could have been a banner before this, and probably was. They carry a set of shock-swords, though their lower arms hold nothing.
The second is Weaver. Much like the Captain, all she has is a banded strip of cloth—royal purple—around her breasts and a matching loincloth, though Eliera notes that hers is blank. With her skin bared Eliera can see the black and white tattooed crown, shield, and knives that mark her as one of the Queen's Guard. She also carries a pair of shock-swords, though they look like they had been scaled down to her size.
"Fight in natural armor only, as tradition," the Fallen next to her says, and Eliera is grateful for the commentary even if she didn't ask for it. "Very old tradition. Very bloody."
"Bloody?"
The Fallen looks at her. "They fight for House honor, bright-eyes. What is honor for House if you are not willing to shed blood for it? What honor do you have if you haven't bled?" The Eliksni turns back to the ring. "But Mraskis has already bled much for the House. Both in pit and out. More blood than one can survive without."
Eliera looks at the woman down in the pit and wonders how many layers she has, how much she has done to earn the respect she hears, how she did it.
The two fighters stand at opposite ends of the ring as another Captain, armored, teleports into the ring. He growls something out and Weaver answers in the same tongue, her voice sounding completely different with the alien language than it had when they'd spoken before. The crowd around them roars in obvious approval.
"He asks if she is willing to forsake House and Kell to become Wolf. She says she cannot forsake her Kell for her Kell is Wolf Kell and her House is Wolf House, and she will prove herself to be worthy with blood and strength," the Fallen translates. "She is good with words. Could have said had no Kell or House and taken the path of the wanderer. Easy path. Instead she takes the path of the exiled. Her trial will have no mercy."
Weaver scrapes the spines of her swords against each other, sparks and Arc energy flying, the Fallen on the other end of the pit crouching, Weaver mirroring them.
The armored Captain teleports out, and at some unseen signal both of the fighters rush towards the center, steel clashing as Weaver somehow manages to block both of her opponents' swords. Weaver is tall for a woman, and yet she is still towered over by the Fallen above her, who is pressing down with all their strength.
She breaks off, stepping back, before pressing forward again. The two exchange blows, each getting closer to skin and chitin than the last, but Eliera is still struck by how at home Weaver seems with the shock-blades.
"Should be. Trained with Narisk for six years," the Fallen next to her says, and Eliera realizes she spoke out loud. "Know Captains who have done less."
The first blood to fall is red, a slash on Weaver's upper arm that stands out starkly against her pale skin, slipping down to drip onto the sand and dirt.
"Doesn't she heal?" Eliera questions. One of the things everyone knew about Guardians was they didn't stay down.
"Mraskis does not use Light-tricks in the pit. After, yes. Saw her break whole arm once, insisted she could still go on," the Fallen grins at her. "Match was ended, but her point was made."
The two clash twice, a series of interleaved dual-hand parries that Eliera cannot begin to imagine the coordination required for, before blue joins the red at their feet.
"How long do they fight?"
"Until one yields," says the Fallen.
"What if Weaver loses?"
The Fallen hiss-laughs. "She would be judged on her performance. But do not worry. She will not lose. There is a reason she does not fight in the pits as much as she used to."
"Why?"
"Because she is the…" they motion as though looking for the phrase, "yes, defending champion in usual fight-sets. But today, it is different. Kamis does not fight in the pits, but he is very, very good. But Weaver will still win."
Eliera watches the way they break off again, the way Weaver's skin shines from sweat and blood drips at her feet, but there's a wild grin on her face and satisfaction in her eyes. Muscles flex and relax as she moves with absolute surety, and Eliera knows that it has to be the Light she carries that makes her so much stronger than her size would suggest—even if she is not actively wielding it.
The fight continues, silver and sparks and Arc-energy flying, more wounds added to both, though both avoid serious injuries. There is a large gash across Weaver's front and a messy tear across her left thigh, a slice on her cheek and numerous cuts criss-crossing her forearms.
Her opponent is no better off, however. The Arc blades seem to just ignore the chitin of his exoskeleton, and blue leaks from particularly deep cuts and any wounds that touched the softer areas at his joints.
The crowd watches with almost palpable energy and excitement.
It ends as abruptly as it started, with one of Kamis' blades flying off and impaling itself into the pit's wall from a complicated twist-scissor-flip movement of Weaver's swords that Eliera is still having trouble registering because of how fast it was.
In an instant Weaver has stepped forward into his guard, and there is a sword at the Fallen's neck and another with its edge against the wrist of the hand that still holds the last shock-blade.
The audience goes wild, standing and yelling.
He growls something, his head bowed, and Weaver steps back, her swords lowered. Her chest is heaving from exertion, but she doesn't hesitate to transfer the sword in her right hand to also being held in her left, edge facing her, and holds out her hand to him.
He grasps her arm and their blood runs together, and suddenly Eliera can see how something as savage as a blood sport can have such significance in a civilized culture.
Kamis turns to the crowd and yells, though she can only catch a little before it is drowned out.
"He says, 'This is my sister, Weaver of the House of Wolves, and as she would fight I would fight beside her,'" the Fallen next to her says with a laugh. "None who complain want to fight Kamis."
The tall Eliksni strides to the side of the pit, and with a sharp yank pulls his sword from the pit, before turning to Weaver and bowing, swords spread. She returns the gesture. They both straighten, and his mask moves once more.
"He says 'Thank you for the fun'," comes the translation.
He then walks to the door and exits the ring once it hisses open. Weaver stands in the middle of the ring, still breathing heavily, but she bows once again, this time to all those in the stand, turning so that they all get a view.
The crowd roars its approval, and Weaver straightens back up, taking one more deep breath before moving to her side of the arena and exiting.
"Was good. But still much to do," the Fallen beside her speaks. They turn to her, once more grinning behind the clear rebreather mask as they lift a hood that sat around their neck. "Tell her that Marix wishes her well and will be watching."
The Fallen slips away into the crowds, almost seeming to disappear as soon as they are out of direct sight.
Eliera turns to look back down at the sand and dirt speckled with patches of the blood of two different people, and wonders if associating with Weaver will make everything this interesting.
A/N: The first of the Eliera-Weaver history chapters. Just a little taste, since I felt like 3k was a good place to end this.
Weaver and the way she twists how she remembers the past to match her mindset reminds me a lot of (and is partially a holdover from) Taylor and her justifications.
We don't learn a lot about El from here, but we get hints. Next chapter will… either be Weaver getting her augments or her choosing to join the Guard and first days as a part of it.
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- Location
- Madison, AL
Lol, I got it when it was free on Battlenet 
On another note: wjoi4ruw3049GFEIE%*$#@&^()T. . . How is progress on your OTHER stories going?????????????
On another note: wjoi4ruw3049GFEIE%*$#@&^()T. . . How is progress on your OTHER stories going?????????????
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- Location
- Queensland, Australia
You originally said something about a livestream on the... Number None discord right @ensou ? That still happening despite you editing it out, and if so can someone give a link to where you can find an invite to that discord? As I'm not sure I've joined that particular SV-related discord server. XD
As for the chapter itself... Very interesting, and I'm really liking the look we're getting into Weaver starting to make her place in the Reef. Do have to wonder where Kali was during all the events.
As for the chapter itself... Very interesting, and I'm really liking the look we're getting into Weaver starting to make her place in the Reef. Do have to wonder where Kali was during all the events.
Obviously Kali was at the concession stand.
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
- Location
- California
So been rereading some bits,
This ever going to come back around or was it just a throwaway?
- Location
- Spain
Oh damn, this is more than just stepping up, she's been adopted by the large four-armed bug people with a chip on their shoulder (no wonder she feels so comfortable with them) that's going to throw so many Guardians for a loop, this still gives credence to my theory of Weaver future Kell of Kells...
Also Weaver is still awkward, I wonder how her relationship with Eliera develops to reach comfortable domestics...
Also Weaver is still awkward, I wonder how her relationship with Eliera develops to reach comfortable domestics...
deadcrystal
Slaaneshi Cultist
- Location
- The Warp
Insert obligatory comment about sand and hating it.
They're the Roman empire, as portrayed by rhinos native to a swamp planet.
I do miss self-rez. I'll admit, it wasn't actually useful, and it was in a weird place gameplay-wise, and I honestly didn't even really like the solar subclass very much, but it was a neat thing.
Warmind Mars is tolerable! It has things other than sand!
I forgot to log on on the weekend, so was going to do some last bits yesterday, get another page of Truth to Power, but I didn't know about the day long maintenance alas, so it'll be another three weeks before that.
But yeah, less than an hour to go at time of posting, so I'm pretty hype to see Best Girl Eris Morn again.
Signed.
Well I'll admit I'm a sucker for the 'two broken people find comfort in each other then it develops into something more' format, but this is still neat.
Not much else to say on this chapter. It's low-key cuteness and cool combat scenes and buildup.
its got ice and hive! And high-tech javelins!
Haven't played in a while but this is almost convincing me to start again
Stahor
BookWorm
- Location
- Russia, Moscow
I fully expected Weaver to flex like Kratos (or Baldr) during opening fight, and heal all damage while walking out.
- Location
- United States
Well it's official we are keeping as far away from the moon as possible. We do NOT need a nightmare scion running around.
The Sandman
So Zetta Slowpoke
- Location
- Wherever I am, which isn't where I'm not
Could be worse. It could be full of Tenno.
Teiwaz
Beloved of Adorjan.
- Location
- RUNNING AWAY
Hey Kiddo~
Sidestory: Jewels
ensou
Magical G̶i̶r̶l̶ Servant Mordred-chan
- Location
- NEW YORK CITY!??
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Present Day, Merina
"So what do you think they'll look like?"
Weaver looked up from her meal to Eliera. "Hm?"
"The implants," her companion clarified. "…You aren't going to start wearing those full-cover Techeun robes are you? Because I don't know if I could survive such a tragedy," she said, a teasing grin on her face.
Weaver rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not going to suddenly switch wardrobes just because I get some jewels stuck in my head."
"Phew. Good," Eliera said, sounding more relieved than she had any right to. "Do you know what they'll be?"
The Risen woman shrugged. "Amethyst, I'm guessing. That's what's standard, right? Can't see them doing something unusual."
Eliera blinked. "Weaver, I don't know how to break this to you, but you are unusual. What about any of this is normal?"
The other woman opened her mouth… and then closed it. "Okay, good point."
"I kinda wish you could show me what it's like beforehand," Eliera told her. "Your power thing."
Weaver stared at her. "It freaked out a Techeun. The ones who are supposed to deal with weird stuff. And I can tell you what it would be like. It's like being paralyzed. You can't control anything, can't say anything, can't do anything, except you can still feel everything that happens."
"…You know, that sounds kinda sexy."
Weaver buried her face in her hands. "Oh my god, El."
"What? I'm just saying!"
There was a few moments of silence, and then Weaver felt a pair of hands lightly grasping her wrists, pulling her palms away.
"I thought we were past this, Weaver. I trust you. You know that."
"I know, I know. It's just… the thought of anybody being okay with that, with wanting it?"
Eliera just offered a shrug and a sly smile. "It's all about the situation, right?" She picked her fork up, and waved it at Weaver. "Plus, you know, consent."
Weaver shook her head with a smile, going back to her food.
"So how does it work, anyways? What kind of limits are there? Is it all crazy space-time stuff like the Techeuns?"
The human looked at her and shook her head. "No, it's more… manipulating nervous systems, I think. It used to be I had limit that only let me control very simple things, but I had a very large range. Now… now I can control really complex things, but my range is very small. The problem is I can't control who it affects. Ironic, huh?"
"I… guess? …But I bet you still have some good stories," El said, resting her chin on her hand.
"Well, there was one time with the Chicago Wards—Oh, Chicago was a city in North America, and the Wards were…"
The next five days were spent falling back into her old routine of work: managing the Eliksni half of the Guard, bickering with the other lieutenants of the Guard over allocations and budgeting, and keeping a pulse on the Awoken and by going out and being visible.
Five days later Weaver finally got the message that the Techeuns had come up with something for her and would be able to perform the implant operation the next day.
She had flashbacks to Bonesaw cutting into her skull, Panacea turning her into Khepri, being paralyzed and unable to do anything, even her power disabled. She knew logically that her Light was able to prevent that, but the scars and marks from the experiences couldn't just be rationalized away.
Weaver spent the night fitfully in El's arms as the Awoken woman simply held her, whispering softly and talking about insignificant things that had happened a century ago but still filled the silence.
The next day was a beautiful day in Merina, and yet she couldn't bring herself to enjoy it.
"You know this is going to be okay, right?"
Kali phased into existence at her shoulder, and Weaver looked over at her Ghost as they walked through the city towards the medical facility Shuro Chi had asked to meet them at.
"Yes, Kali. It's just uncomfortable. Ever since you brought me back, I haven't needed to deal with doctors or anything, because you could heal me. Meanwhile to me it feels like only two weeks ago I asked Panacea to try to make my powers more useful and ended up practically lobotomized," she said. "Every single instance of people playing around with my brain has ended poorly."
"Except this is what the Techeuns do. Those were people playing with things they didn't know," Kali countered.
Weaver made a sound of agreement. "I know. And that, and the fact that this means I won't have to have this suppression field on all the time, are the reasons I'm not being worse."
"Well, you know I'll be right there with you," the Ghost said comfortingly, and Weaver smiled.
"I do. I wish you could have met Lisa. You either would have loved each other or hated the other's guts."
Kali's shell rippled "Do you ever wonder…?"
Weaver shook her head. "I doubt it. It's just… I chose to die. At the end, there. And I think Contessa put my body where nobody could get to it, where nobody would be able to find me, a universe far from our cluster, somehow displaced onto an entirely different planet. They lived their lives, and the most I can hope is that they were happy. There were things powers couldn't predict, and I think the Great Machine and Ghosts are some of them. She couldn't have predicted you finding me and reviving me, but you did."
"And I'm very glad I did, too. I mean, do you know how boring it would have been searching for decades and centuries and never finding you?"
"You might have mentioned, yes," Weaver said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Really boring. Like, really really boring," Kali said as they stopped in front of the medical building. "Now lets go get some fancy stuff stuck in your head so we can get back to more important things like giving that woman in acquisitions and assets who hates us a headache."
Weaver laughed, but dutifully followed her Ghost inside.
It was twenty minutes of waiting before they were ready, and they had her remove all her armor until she was down to her skin-tight undersuit. The room they led her to was bare and empty except for the reclined medical chair in the center that reminded her of dentists' chairs in her past life—if much more comfortable-looking and molded—except that this one was missing a headrest.
They were ready when she was, they said, all she needed to do was sit down and release her barrier, and then the Techeun who'd led her to the room left.
She took a breath before sitting down and following their instructions, but even feeling whole once again it was all she could do to control herself and not freak out at the hiss against her neck as they sedated her, with no swarm to push her emotions into.
And then there was nothing.
No sight, no sound, no feeling no body no life just nothingnothingnothing, a void that had no time no space where was—
"Weaver?"
"Weaver, can you hear me?"
…Kali?
"Yep!"
What was going on? Where was everything? She couldn't remember…
"You're sedated. Remember? To install the augments you need?"
Augments? Oh, right, the ones for her power.
There was something poking, moving through her skull. It was there but not but she knew it was there as sure as she knew the reality of gravity.
And yet, she couldn't feel anything.
"Well, you're supposed to be asleep. But. Uh. You kind of didn't want to be. So you didn't. Your body is but you're not. Isn't Light amazing?"
Anxious excitement, childhood Christmas Eves where she couldn't sleep.
"Yeah yeah, you're here too, we know. It's a whole party in here."
How much longer would it be?
"No idea. And I'm not rematerializing to check. Interrupting anything they're doing out there would be bad news."
Agreement.
There were objects, threading through her, like they'd pulled apart the fabric of her being, stretched it out on a loom, and were weaving things in.
She felt oddly thin, like she was less substantial and liable to be blown away in the lightest breath of wind.
She huddled closer to her other-halves, as if being with them could protect her.
Hopefully this would be over soon.
"Urgh."
She groaned, reaching up to massage her forehead, freezing at the feeling of hard, smooth bumps under her fingers.
"Welcome back, Weaver."
She blinked, eyes adjusting quickly to the light above her.,
She was whole.
She was whole, and she'd never have to be split in twain again.
Her power shifted in weird ways, flexing in odd directions and with a sense of malleability she'd never had before. She knew where the Techeun was, standing beside her table, but she wasn't in control. She could be, if she wanted, she knew, but she didn't have to be.
She could read the Techeun, she realized. Not just where she was but how she was standing, where her limbs were, how she was positioned. If she wanted she could touch her senses too, experience everything without touching the controls.
They'd taken the broken, shattered end of her power in her brain and twisted, tuned it into something that had so many uses and potential on its own that it rivaled her original.
They'd fixed her.
There was a satisfaction and calm that underlay her feelings, which she knew was from her passenger, but she echoed it completely.
"Thank you, for this. So much," she said softly, and felt the Techeun's mouth move into a soft smile.
"You are quite welcome. Besides, it is the least we can do for one of our Queen's Guard in need," the Techeun replied, and she recognized her voice as Kalli, the one who'd been in charge of the procedure. "Especially one so dedicated. It was a good test of our abilities, as well."
Weaver touched lightly upon the woman's sight, looking at herself and the changes through eyes she didn't command.
Blue crystals dotted her forehead, embedded in her flesh and ranging in size from the nail of her pinkie to only a few millimeters. The larger ones sat around the center of her forehead, before the collection spread to her temples and got smaller.
She twisted her head, following the glittering crystal trail as it made a circle around her temple and then flowed back to behind her ears where there was another cluster, before finally going back towards the base of her skull where she assumed it met with the other side. Light glinted deep in her black hair, and with her fingers she probed her scalp, finding a veritable web of the crystals over her skull, converging over her parietal lobe where the majority of her Pollentia sat.
With an odd twist of her power in a way she'd never done—couldn't have done—before, light bloomed in the purple stones, spreading out across her forehead and to the sides, flowing through her hair.
It… actually didn't look too bad. Or at least not the way she'd anticipated.
There wasn't a scar or sign of the procedure to be seen, and according to the Techeuns, if there weren't any complications she could leave immediately, the recovery time required essentially negligible. The Awoken's medical technology and methods easily rivaled a Tinker like Bonesaw's.
Weaver shuddered at the thought and immediately pushed that comparison out of her mind.
What do you think?
A feeling of possibilities and excitement, of exploration and newness, was what she got in reply.
"How long was I out?"
"As we predicted, it took a little over three hours to complete your procedure, most of which was tuning the implants and running internal tests."
Weaver blinked. "Geeze, if you do this all over your body it must take forever."
"It is fairly involved, yes. However, yours also took longer than usual because of how different the interfaces that had to be aligned and settled were, as well as the difference in neurology of the control areas."
The Risen woman nodded, sitting up and putting her legs over the side of the surgical chair. "Oh, before I forget, Petra sends her well-wishes."
Kalli's smile became somber. "Thank you for the message, Blade," she said, stepping back to allow Weaver to stand.
She felt… larger, in a way that she couldn't easily describe. Like she encompassed more.
"There are a series of control exercises for the augments that rely on meditation and self-reflection, following the flow of one's energy and understanding it, however I understand you already have some experience in that yourself. We will send you the details, although I cannot promise that the methods required are entirely the same, even if the basics are similar."
Kalli led Weaver to the doorway, and the Risen turned to her. "Again, thank you. If you or your Order ever need anything that I can help with, please let me know. I'm not sure if you understand how big a deal this is for me, and I don't know if there's any way I can truly repay you, but I'll try."
The Techeun accepted the gratitude graciously with a nod of her head, and then they parted ways.
"So let's see it."
She hadn't even gotten halfway through the door to the apartment before she heard Eliera's voice.
"At least let me get my shoes off first, El," Weaver said back.
Just as the door was closing behind her and she was dismissing her boots, the Awoken woman appeared around the corner of the entranceway.
Her eyes went up to Weaver's forehead. "Ooooh."
After a second, she reached out and grabbed the Risen's hand, dragging her into the living room. "C'mon I need some more light."
Weaver allowed herself to be manhandled over to the couch, sitting down as Eliera sat beside her.
The woman gently took her head, tilting it this way and that, following the pattern around her head. "Very pretty," she commented, and Weaver could feel the appreciation in her emotions. "So what can you do now? Anything new?"
"I haven't exactly had time to try much, El. I literally just got out," Weaver told her. "But so far it's everything I had before, but I have control over how much… well, control I have. It seems like I can have it as low as just simple empathy and knowledge of where people are around me, but if I want I can access senses, partially or completely."
"…Or even just control part of a person," she said, momentarily taking command of El's mouth.
The Awoken woman laughed in surprise immediately after. "Oh god, that's weird. Really cool, though. We'll definitely have to test that out. What's it like, seeing and hearing through everything?"
Weaver shrugged. "It's just… natural. I don't have trouble keeping track of everything. Back when I controlled insects I had swarms in the billions. I don't have trouble integrating things, either. Seeing something from multiple points of view is just… seeing something from multiple points of view, for me. It's really difficult for me to explain. I essentially have an infinite capacity for multi-tasking. I am my swarm, my collective, not just… this," she said, gesturing at her body. "Every single thing I'm connected to is part of me."
El shook her head, and Weaver could feel her wonder. "I can't even imagine it. When you talk about things like that you sound like the Queen, the way the stories describe the things she can do."
Weaver remembered what it had been like, being in range of Mara Sov, the way she had appeared in her power. "No, she's… she's something more."
Eliera leaned back against the back of the couch, tilting her head so that it rested on Weaver's shoulder. "…I'm glad you're feeling better."
"Yeah, me too."
A/N: Another fairly quiet chapter, but an important one. Weaver now has the tools she needs to work with her shard. Originally there was a scene about Solemn Silence in here, but it was suggested that it felt out of place and should be moved to some point later.
Next chapter is Weaver's first days in the Guard, and depending on how much I include it might end up being one of the longest chapters in the story. After that will be a bit of a timeskip, and it'll be time for Crota.
"So what do you think they'll look like?"
Weaver looked up from her meal to Eliera. "Hm?"
"The implants," her companion clarified. "…You aren't going to start wearing those full-cover Techeun robes are you? Because I don't know if I could survive such a tragedy," she said, a teasing grin on her face.
Weaver rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not going to suddenly switch wardrobes just because I get some jewels stuck in my head."
"Phew. Good," Eliera said, sounding more relieved than she had any right to. "Do you know what they'll be?"
The Risen woman shrugged. "Amethyst, I'm guessing. That's what's standard, right? Can't see them doing something unusual."
Eliera blinked. "Weaver, I don't know how to break this to you, but you are unusual. What about any of this is normal?"
The other woman opened her mouth… and then closed it. "Okay, good point."
"I kinda wish you could show me what it's like beforehand," Eliera told her. "Your power thing."
Weaver stared at her. "It freaked out a Techeun. The ones who are supposed to deal with weird stuff. And I can tell you what it would be like. It's like being paralyzed. You can't control anything, can't say anything, can't do anything, except you can still feel everything that happens."
"…You know, that sounds kinda sexy."
Weaver buried her face in her hands. "Oh my god, El."
"What? I'm just saying!"
There was a few moments of silence, and then Weaver felt a pair of hands lightly grasping her wrists, pulling her palms away.
"I thought we were past this, Weaver. I trust you. You know that."
"I know, I know. It's just… the thought of anybody being okay with that, with wanting it?"
Eliera just offered a shrug and a sly smile. "It's all about the situation, right?" She picked her fork up, and waved it at Weaver. "Plus, you know, consent."
Weaver shook her head with a smile, going back to her food.
"So how does it work, anyways? What kind of limits are there? Is it all crazy space-time stuff like the Techeuns?"
The human looked at her and shook her head. "No, it's more… manipulating nervous systems, I think. It used to be I had limit that only let me control very simple things, but I had a very large range. Now… now I can control really complex things, but my range is very small. The problem is I can't control who it affects. Ironic, huh?"
"I… guess? …But I bet you still have some good stories," El said, resting her chin on her hand.
"Well, there was one time with the Chicago Wards—Oh, Chicago was a city in North America, and the Wards were…"
The next five days were spent falling back into her old routine of work: managing the Eliksni half of the Guard, bickering with the other lieutenants of the Guard over allocations and budgeting, and keeping a pulse on the Awoken and by going out and being visible.
Five days later Weaver finally got the message that the Techeuns had come up with something for her and would be able to perform the implant operation the next day.
She had flashbacks to Bonesaw cutting into her skull, Panacea turning her into Khepri, being paralyzed and unable to do anything, even her power disabled. She knew logically that her Light was able to prevent that, but the scars and marks from the experiences couldn't just be rationalized away.
Weaver spent the night fitfully in El's arms as the Awoken woman simply held her, whispering softly and talking about insignificant things that had happened a century ago but still filled the silence.
The next day was a beautiful day in Merina, and yet she couldn't bring herself to enjoy it.
"You know this is going to be okay, right?"
Kali phased into existence at her shoulder, and Weaver looked over at her Ghost as they walked through the city towards the medical facility Shuro Chi had asked to meet them at.
"Yes, Kali. It's just uncomfortable. Ever since you brought me back, I haven't needed to deal with doctors or anything, because you could heal me. Meanwhile to me it feels like only two weeks ago I asked Panacea to try to make my powers more useful and ended up practically lobotomized," she said. "Every single instance of people playing around with my brain has ended poorly."
"Except this is what the Techeuns do. Those were people playing with things they didn't know," Kali countered.
Weaver made a sound of agreement. "I know. And that, and the fact that this means I won't have to have this suppression field on all the time, are the reasons I'm not being worse."
"Well, you know I'll be right there with you," the Ghost said comfortingly, and Weaver smiled.
"I do. I wish you could have met Lisa. You either would have loved each other or hated the other's guts."
Kali's shell rippled "Do you ever wonder…?"
Weaver shook her head. "I doubt it. It's just… I chose to die. At the end, there. And I think Contessa put my body where nobody could get to it, where nobody would be able to find me, a universe far from our cluster, somehow displaced onto an entirely different planet. They lived their lives, and the most I can hope is that they were happy. There were things powers couldn't predict, and I think the Great Machine and Ghosts are some of them. She couldn't have predicted you finding me and reviving me, but you did."
"And I'm very glad I did, too. I mean, do you know how boring it would have been searching for decades and centuries and never finding you?"
"You might have mentioned, yes," Weaver said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Really boring. Like, really really boring," Kali said as they stopped in front of the medical building. "Now lets go get some fancy stuff stuck in your head so we can get back to more important things like giving that woman in acquisitions and assets who hates us a headache."
Weaver laughed, but dutifully followed her Ghost inside.
It was twenty minutes of waiting before they were ready, and they had her remove all her armor until she was down to her skin-tight undersuit. The room they led her to was bare and empty except for the reclined medical chair in the center that reminded her of dentists' chairs in her past life—if much more comfortable-looking and molded—except that this one was missing a headrest.
They were ready when she was, they said, all she needed to do was sit down and release her barrier, and then the Techeun who'd led her to the room left.
She took a breath before sitting down and following their instructions, but even feeling whole once again it was all she could do to control herself and not freak out at the hiss against her neck as they sedated her, with no swarm to push her emotions into.
And then there was nothing.
No sight, no sound, no feeling no body no life just nothingnothingnothing, a void that had no time no space where was—
"Weaver?"
"Weaver, can you hear me?"
…Kali?
"Yep!"
What was going on? Where was everything? She couldn't remember…
"You're sedated. Remember? To install the augments you need?"
Augments? Oh, right, the ones for her power.
There was something poking, moving through her skull. It was there but not but she knew it was there as sure as she knew the reality of gravity.
And yet, she couldn't feel anything.
"Well, you're supposed to be asleep. But. Uh. You kind of didn't want to be. So you didn't. Your body is but you're not. Isn't Light amazing?"
Anxious excitement, childhood Christmas Eves where she couldn't sleep.
"Yeah yeah, you're here too, we know. It's a whole party in here."
How much longer would it be?
"No idea. And I'm not rematerializing to check. Interrupting anything they're doing out there would be bad news."
Agreement.
There were objects, threading through her, like they'd pulled apart the fabric of her being, stretched it out on a loom, and were weaving things in.
She felt oddly thin, like she was less substantial and liable to be blown away in the lightest breath of wind.
She huddled closer to her other-halves, as if being with them could protect her.
Hopefully this would be over soon.
"Urgh."
She groaned, reaching up to massage her forehead, freezing at the feeling of hard, smooth bumps under her fingers.
"Welcome back, Weaver."
She blinked, eyes adjusting quickly to the light above her.,
She was whole.
She was whole, and she'd never have to be split in twain again.
Her power shifted in weird ways, flexing in odd directions and with a sense of malleability she'd never had before. She knew where the Techeun was, standing beside her table, but she wasn't in control. She could be, if she wanted, she knew, but she didn't have to be.
She could read the Techeun, she realized. Not just where she was but how she was standing, where her limbs were, how she was positioned. If she wanted she could touch her senses too, experience everything without touching the controls.
They'd taken the broken, shattered end of her power in her brain and twisted, tuned it into something that had so many uses and potential on its own that it rivaled her original.
They'd fixed her.
There was a satisfaction and calm that underlay her feelings, which she knew was from her passenger, but she echoed it completely.
"Thank you, for this. So much," she said softly, and felt the Techeun's mouth move into a soft smile.
"You are quite welcome. Besides, it is the least we can do for one of our Queen's Guard in need," the Techeun replied, and she recognized her voice as Kalli, the one who'd been in charge of the procedure. "Especially one so dedicated. It was a good test of our abilities, as well."
Weaver touched lightly upon the woman's sight, looking at herself and the changes through eyes she didn't command.
Blue crystals dotted her forehead, embedded in her flesh and ranging in size from the nail of her pinkie to only a few millimeters. The larger ones sat around the center of her forehead, before the collection spread to her temples and got smaller.
She twisted her head, following the glittering crystal trail as it made a circle around her temple and then flowed back to behind her ears where there was another cluster, before finally going back towards the base of her skull where she assumed it met with the other side. Light glinted deep in her black hair, and with her fingers she probed her scalp, finding a veritable web of the crystals over her skull, converging over her parietal lobe where the majority of her Pollentia sat.
With an odd twist of her power in a way she'd never done—couldn't have done—before, light bloomed in the purple stones, spreading out across her forehead and to the sides, flowing through her hair.
It… actually didn't look too bad. Or at least not the way she'd anticipated.
There wasn't a scar or sign of the procedure to be seen, and according to the Techeuns, if there weren't any complications she could leave immediately, the recovery time required essentially negligible. The Awoken's medical technology and methods easily rivaled a Tinker like Bonesaw's.
Weaver shuddered at the thought and immediately pushed that comparison out of her mind.
What do you think?
A feeling of possibilities and excitement, of exploration and newness, was what she got in reply.
"How long was I out?"
"As we predicted, it took a little over three hours to complete your procedure, most of which was tuning the implants and running internal tests."
Weaver blinked. "Geeze, if you do this all over your body it must take forever."
"It is fairly involved, yes. However, yours also took longer than usual because of how different the interfaces that had to be aligned and settled were, as well as the difference in neurology of the control areas."
The Risen woman nodded, sitting up and putting her legs over the side of the surgical chair. "Oh, before I forget, Petra sends her well-wishes."
Kalli's smile became somber. "Thank you for the message, Blade," she said, stepping back to allow Weaver to stand.
She felt… larger, in a way that she couldn't easily describe. Like she encompassed more.
"There are a series of control exercises for the augments that rely on meditation and self-reflection, following the flow of one's energy and understanding it, however I understand you already have some experience in that yourself. We will send you the details, although I cannot promise that the methods required are entirely the same, even if the basics are similar."
Kalli led Weaver to the doorway, and the Risen turned to her. "Again, thank you. If you or your Order ever need anything that I can help with, please let me know. I'm not sure if you understand how big a deal this is for me, and I don't know if there's any way I can truly repay you, but I'll try."
The Techeun accepted the gratitude graciously with a nod of her head, and then they parted ways.
"So let's see it."
She hadn't even gotten halfway through the door to the apartment before she heard Eliera's voice.
"At least let me get my shoes off first, El," Weaver said back.
Just as the door was closing behind her and she was dismissing her boots, the Awoken woman appeared around the corner of the entranceway.
Her eyes went up to Weaver's forehead. "Ooooh."
After a second, she reached out and grabbed the Risen's hand, dragging her into the living room. "C'mon I need some more light."
Weaver allowed herself to be manhandled over to the couch, sitting down as Eliera sat beside her.
The woman gently took her head, tilting it this way and that, following the pattern around her head. "Very pretty," she commented, and Weaver could feel the appreciation in her emotions. "So what can you do now? Anything new?"
"I haven't exactly had time to try much, El. I literally just got out," Weaver told her. "But so far it's everything I had before, but I have control over how much… well, control I have. It seems like I can have it as low as just simple empathy and knowledge of where people are around me, but if I want I can access senses, partially or completely."
"…Or even just control part of a person," she said, momentarily taking command of El's mouth.
The Awoken woman laughed in surprise immediately after. "Oh god, that's weird. Really cool, though. We'll definitely have to test that out. What's it like, seeing and hearing through everything?"
Weaver shrugged. "It's just… natural. I don't have trouble keeping track of everything. Back when I controlled insects I had swarms in the billions. I don't have trouble integrating things, either. Seeing something from multiple points of view is just… seeing something from multiple points of view, for me. It's really difficult for me to explain. I essentially have an infinite capacity for multi-tasking. I am my swarm, my collective, not just… this," she said, gesturing at her body. "Every single thing I'm connected to is part of me."
El shook her head, and Weaver could feel her wonder. "I can't even imagine it. When you talk about things like that you sound like the Queen, the way the stories describe the things she can do."
Weaver remembered what it had been like, being in range of Mara Sov, the way she had appeared in her power. "No, she's… she's something more."
Eliera leaned back against the back of the couch, tilting her head so that it rested on Weaver's shoulder. "…I'm glad you're feeling better."
"Yeah, me too."
A/N: Another fairly quiet chapter, but an important one. Weaver now has the tools she needs to work with her shard. Originally there was a scene about Solemn Silence in here, but it was suggested that it felt out of place and should be moved to some point later.
Next chapter is Weaver's first days in the Guard, and depending on how much I include it might end up being one of the longest chapters in the story. After that will be a bit of a timeskip, and it'll be time for Crota.
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Twei
I have a face!
- Location
- the land where they write things
- Pronouns
- They/Them
On the one hand, the Bejeweled chapter had no gameplay. On the other hand, it had no microtransactions.
Not sure how to feel about that.
Okibruez
(Verified Mid-Boss)
- Location
- Dreams
I spend years deliberately not thinking of the power perversion potential of QA and you just go and spell it out for us. Dangit @ensou.
... even if it's not wrong.
Also, nice chapter. Very interesting to read. And always nice to read something where nothing dramatic is happening.