Sounsyy cradled her left hand close to her chest as Ryanti moved past her across the elevator. Though hidden completely from view beneath her wetsuit, massive bruises were spreading across the back of her hand - blood vessels giving way under the strain of the shifting bones in her damaged hand. She held her fingers outright awkwardly, as if bending them caused additional discomfort. When Ryanti thanked her, she wasn't sure exactly how to respond.
"Yeh've done the same fer meh, but yer welcome," she said matter-of-factly. She did not sound bitter at least. There was little more she could have done. She'd have done the same for any of her crew. Ryanti, and the other Sharlayan agents, weren't her crew, but neither were they strangers by this point. Her crew would protect them, unless she ordered them not to. But now, she had only to worry about her own protection. She shifted her rifle to an idle position, resting the barrel across her left forearm and against her chest. She would spare her hand more agony until she truly needed to again.
She looked away into the darkened hallway from which they came when Ryanti explained Allagan electricity to her and how it had sapped their linkpearls of life. She did not remove hers even still, either because that would require her to move her injured hand or because she held some glimmer of hope that it may once more make contact. How long had the Roehmerl been trying to reestablish contact with them? How many hours did they have left before the mission was deemed a failure, and the Sharlayans would make their rendezvous? P'welro had command, and she knew well that she would follow her orders.
“Look!.... Look it’s still working! I can’t believe it! It’s been set on emergency power though… it looks like the Allagans knew their fate before this ship crashed.â€
Sounsyy moved over to Ryanti and eyed the curious screen of small dancing light. It seemed so out of place, small, white, and harmless against the sea of deep red glow and darkness they had been swallowed in. It felt very much like the belly of some great beast. Even more so as the lift groaned to life. Then the sound of fingernails on chalk as the elevator fought against the cermet. She forgot about the pain in her hand and clasped her hands over her ears quickly and would've dropped her rifle if the strap had not been secured over her shoulder.
"Seven hells," she breathed out in relief as the Sharlayan redirected the elevator downwards instead. The screeching died and was replaced with an almost peaceful rumble, the beast was purring. As if it had something it wanted them to see. And the two followed the beast blindly into its den.
“How is your arm? I need to make sure you’re alright. We need to be… ready. For anything.â€
"I'll manage," she said as she recovered her dangling rifle and held it as she did before, the barrel resting over the cradled arm. She knew that would not satisfy Ryanti, so she held her hand outright, palm surface-wards and wiggled her fingers. It was truly painful, but Sounsyy set her jaw and kept it from her face. She was all aglow with the red as they deepened into the darkness. Her eyes held a strange shimmer, a burning.
She moved away from Ryanti back towards the edge of the elevator and watched as each red light flickered past their descent. They were like will-o'-the-wisps in the night, but... inorganic, Sounsyy thought. Truly, she began to find them almost pleasant to look upon. They were soft on the eyes and unlike most torchlights of orange flame or like the smell of burning ceruleum, these lights triggered no violent reveries. They were truly foreign to her. They reminded her not of Carteneau or of flames that consumed her homelands in Garlemald's wake.
"Where do you think they lead us, these... wisps?"
"Yeh've done the same fer meh, but yer welcome," she said matter-of-factly. She did not sound bitter at least. There was little more she could have done. She'd have done the same for any of her crew. Ryanti, and the other Sharlayan agents, weren't her crew, but neither were they strangers by this point. Her crew would protect them, unless she ordered them not to. But now, she had only to worry about her own protection. She shifted her rifle to an idle position, resting the barrel across her left forearm and against her chest. She would spare her hand more agony until she truly needed to again.
She looked away into the darkened hallway from which they came when Ryanti explained Allagan electricity to her and how it had sapped their linkpearls of life. She did not remove hers even still, either because that would require her to move her injured hand or because she held some glimmer of hope that it may once more make contact. How long had the Roehmerl been trying to reestablish contact with them? How many hours did they have left before the mission was deemed a failure, and the Sharlayans would make their rendezvous? P'welro had command, and she knew well that she would follow her orders.
“Look!.... Look it’s still working! I can’t believe it! It’s been set on emergency power though… it looks like the Allagans knew their fate before this ship crashed.â€
Sounsyy moved over to Ryanti and eyed the curious screen of small dancing light. It seemed so out of place, small, white, and harmless against the sea of deep red glow and darkness they had been swallowed in. It felt very much like the belly of some great beast. Even more so as the lift groaned to life. Then the sound of fingernails on chalk as the elevator fought against the cermet. She forgot about the pain in her hand and clasped her hands over her ears quickly and would've dropped her rifle if the strap had not been secured over her shoulder.
"Seven hells," she breathed out in relief as the Sharlayan redirected the elevator downwards instead. The screeching died and was replaced with an almost peaceful rumble, the beast was purring. As if it had something it wanted them to see. And the two followed the beast blindly into its den.
“How is your arm? I need to make sure you’re alright. We need to be… ready. For anything.â€
"I'll manage," she said as she recovered her dangling rifle and held it as she did before, the barrel resting over the cradled arm. She knew that would not satisfy Ryanti, so she held her hand outright, palm surface-wards and wiggled her fingers. It was truly painful, but Sounsyy set her jaw and kept it from her face. She was all aglow with the red as they deepened into the darkness. Her eyes held a strange shimmer, a burning.
She moved away from Ryanti back towards the edge of the elevator and watched as each red light flickered past their descent. They were like will-o'-the-wisps in the night, but... inorganic, Sounsyy thought. Truly, she began to find them almost pleasant to look upon. They were soft on the eyes and unlike most torchlights of orange flame or like the smell of burning ceruleum, these lights triggered no violent reveries. They were truly foreign to her. They reminded her not of Carteneau or of flames that consumed her homelands in Garlemald's wake.
"Where do you think they lead us, these... wisps?"