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[thegatesofinfinitespace]

((Sorry for the radio silence! I've been working a lot these past few months, and thus my free time has plummeted as a result TvT; This weekend @overx and I will be working a convention, and then two more before the end of the month. I just want to thank everyone for their patience while we get through this busy time. ;v; ))

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If he's surprised by the lack of safe havens nearby, Avem doesn't show it. It's moreso tragic, emphasized by the kinder of his current company. "Hard to upkeep when hardly anyone is around to use it. I understand." It wasn't like the dead were offended by the change of seasons.

Unfortunately, the skeletal remains of old buildings were common in less populated places like this, only supports and the patchy ground they once occupied any evidence of their existence. They... also attracted less desirable things that took more notice than those in the cities. Here, it almost felt like stepping back in time, skyscrapers and densely packed housing a thing of daydreams, their peaks far over the horizon.

Mobius was like that, somehow blending modern and ancient architecture like both were a fact of life. It was no surprise that both the famous Doctor and G.U.N. took great interest in those things, and the cities they built mirroring them, though it could equally be said there was no safety in digging into the supernatural. He knew that better than anyone.

"I'm used to it." Water flecked to the groud, gathering at the edges of their man-made cover. As if to prove that fact, he withdrew a second folded cube from his bag, shaking it open to reveal a small cot. The dragon perched himself on it, legs crossing before patting the open space next to him for Sable. "That's the kind of thing I'd have to be prepared for, wards only work for the smaller things." The wildlife, the weather, or the entities? ...Yes.

'Eve' takes a bite of his own food, a bundle of cinnamon bread he'd picked up from a prior town. "Have you heard of the country of Soleana? That was my last destination." A few days travel from here, at the coastline. He chews thoughtfully, scythe tail swaying gently over the grass, tapping the ground occasionally. "Their city was old, lots of individuals like you guys would appear after nightfall." Not all were friendly, but that was the way of things.

"It's gotten bigger over the last few centuries, but... Think tall white buildings, and wide aquaducts instead of streets... It's quite pretty at sunrise." Avem watches the souls swirl underfoot, a gentle smile aimed towards the smaller ones. "Their princess spoke of trying to expand into the sky, using new technology to help the buildings stay aloft. I saw a test island. The bottom had some sort of blue-purple flame that made the buildings below glow at night."

"The cider you're drinking came from a little outdoor market there. I'd imagine the rim of the bottle still tastes a little like sea salt."

"Hmm..." A thoughtful hum, as the decidedly more friendly of the siblings looks to his brother. "There isn't much that passes for shelter nearby." Perhaps because a certain ghost story kept the locals from building anything too far outside of town. His long tail sways, growing more fragmented and wispy as the sun fades.

Idly, he offers some of the spiced meats to Grim before continuing. "...most of the buildings that were once here are... well..." a tired smile. Taking a few steps closer, Sable leans, head tilting inquisitively at the canopy. "This thing is probably more sturdy." A tap at the nearest pole. "...not that it'd help ya much out there." In an ancient place like this, they were far from the only creatures in the dark.

"Guess you're smarter than ya look," Grim speculates, before taking a hunk out of his newly acquired snack. "Eve, was it?" His newly color shifted eyes finally leave the stranger, red gazing through the silhouette of countless trees. Once more returning to duty, albeit with one more sheep in his flock. "We don't get much in the way of news out here..." and the twins wouldn't be the only ones eager to hear of the world beyond.

They exchange looks, but a nod from Grim signals approval. "Behave yourself, an' you can stay." The other spirits are already pooling beneath the dragon's feet, mirroring the swirl of clouds overhead. The first drops of rain seem to wash away any remaining tension from the guardians, who each settle close by the temporary structure.

Uncorking the bottle in hand, the brighter shadow speaks again. "You must travel a lot, bein' comfortable with us." He's unable to contain the wag of his tail when the scent of fruit hits his muzzle. A deep inhale, savoring, before he takes a sip. "You can call me Sable, by the way."

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Eye contact is kept, though he can clearly see the link wrapped around the canine's wrists from the corner of his vision. Bound here, then...? The clearing they occupy hardly betrays why; only grass and patches of flowers remained. They touch, and it is confirmed-- the twins were long dead, crossing into the boundary that confused spirits with fae.

...But ghosts, they still were.

Lightning cracks in the distance, seemingly notated by the twins' acknowledgement. Where most would find the incoming onslaught inconvenient, what ends up forming on the traveller's muzzle is a simple acceptance, clear familiarity of knowing when a storm couldn't be beat. "I think... That is a risk I'll have to take, unless you know of any other safe havens besides your own."

Granted access, the dragon steps over the border. Instantly, he can feel the souls these two watched over, tumbling in and though him with a rush of-- apprehension, excitement, curiosity, eagerness, wariness, pleasantries. Avem's spines shudder again, suppressed only by the folding of his wings.

Large ears perk as the first few drops of rain speckle his muzzle. As the sky darkens, he watches the shift of the barghests' eyes, green to deep red. Ah. That explained the rumors. He doesn't feel threatened, and continues to speak, reaching back into his bag to withdraw a foldable canopy.

"If there isn't, then I don't mind trading your care for stories of my travels." It pops open, wide enough to shelter two, to make up for his wingspan. "I realize I'm probably not going to get far in this weather, and I don't wish to be food for the restless out there."

Did it mean he was safer with them? Maybe, maybe not.

"That so?" There is some doubt in Grim's voice, the elder twin's gaze keenly fixed on the stranger calling himself Eve. A distant roar of thunder, some miles off yet, seems to corroborate the traveler's story. Skeptical as he is, he cannot argue the validity of that claim. Cutting a path through rather than around the forest would have been a more effective route... an annoying reality.

Even as they speak, the skies are darkening, diminishing what precious daylight remains. Little time to spare, if they expect to be free of this nuisance before nightfall. For now, with the boundary uncrossed, they had no right to chase the dragon off. "You really think that..." Grim trails, the scent of foreign spices apparently piquing his interest. He starts to close the gap, curiosity having finally gotten the better of him as he settles just beside his brother.

"Intrudin'?" Surprise forms on Sable's face, before his expression falls away to something more neutral. "...So you already knew." He almost sounds disappointed. Less shocking in hindsight that Eve had spotted the signs. With the early approach of dusk it was inevitable, their forms always wavered more in the late hours.

How odd, that he preferred the presence of unknown spirits over braving the woods.

As the barghest skulks closer to inspect, his green eyes flick between the reptile's face, and the food. A rare but respectful gesture, one that Sable is more than willing to receive. Reaching out, his fingertips brush the unseen divide between them, spectral chains around his wrist flickering into view. His hand meets the stranger's, but briefly, as he accepts the makeshift bundle of goods. The air is momentarily charged as the deal is struck, but it appears they are willing to let him into their grounds.

"Time is easy for us to give," his soft expression returns, as he steps backwards to allow Eve room to pass. "...but you won't beat the storm if ya stay long."

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Villagers were fickle, Avem could attest to that. Many a pitchfork and flame, prayers muttered and crosses raised as if the action would help. As if the Gods were ever on their side versus any other.

A clawed glove rises to cross over his chest to his heart, a universal greeting. "I'm a traveler. Most know me by Eve." Truly a wanderer by nature, as much as he'd been joking earlier. Equally a traveller should know better than to share their real name. "Following the scent on the wind, I was attempting to beat the rainfall." Thus his reason for being there at all. They knew better than him of the storm on the horizon, they who were of the thunder and brimstone.

Shuddering currents like little hands reaching up to brush his tail. All curiosity, he can feel the energy vibrating on the tips of his spines. Something new, something foreign. Hello, he wishes to say, but the dragon knows better that to speak without permission from the wards. The scythe-tip draws back slowly, falling to curl around his feet as he reaches behind himself to the saddle bag resting between his back and tail.

What is procured is a bundle of drink, and dried meats smelling of unfamiliar spices. "An offering, then. For intruding on your grounds." It was Avem who was the stranger there. "If they're to your liking, I have more, if you don't mind sharing your time."

A blink meets such a bizarre answer, now very apparent that the chattier twin expected... what exactly? Literally anything else. "Ah," his eyebrows raise beneath his bangs, an almost pleasant sort of vexation. While neither he nor Grim particularly appreciated being disturbed, there is an undoubtedly refreshing quality to the unexpectedness of this encounter.

Most of the local villagers saw them from a distance and fled, ever frightful of what lurks in the forest.

A cheeky grin flashes on Sable's muzzle. "Right, of course. No one gets lost in broad daylight." He springs to a standing position, his long wispy tail swaying behind him. The fringes of shadow brush over greenery, never quite catching on anything, more akin to a gentle breeze blowing to and fro. Likewise, there is an uncharacteristic lack of dirt clinging to the canine's form. He stretches his shoulders, before stepping closer to the draconic newcomer. "So then, what could your nose possibly be tracking way out here? Besides a cure for boredom."

The undercurrent almost ripples at the presence nearing, as if the spirits of the grove are twisting to observe something new. They are as waves, crashing against some intangible barrier where the plants grow too high. This is enough to prompt an inquisitive ear flick from Grim. Across the clearing, he too is slowly rising to his feet. He finally turns to their unwanted company, demeanor ever dour. "Probably only knows how t' track down trouble." A not so subtle warning.

Grim's arms cross, his own posture far less relaxed than that of his brother. There is a rigidness to him, even with the ethereal nothingness that eats away at the edges of his being. "I'd think real hard about turnin' back if I were you."

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Gravel into grass crunching beneath his boots, the blades smearing green onto their iron toes. It is a slow walk, and a long one. Small-town patrons would only find their visitor as threatening as the spirits they feared, and still they pointed him in a direction. Whispers of barghest haunting the woods, and the superstitious warning all to keep their distance.

A clearing in the middle of the Deep Woods, they mumbled under baited breath, guarded by a pair with red eyes that tell of your doom. Oh yes, I've seen them. They don't leave survivors. It is best to tread lightly. That is their forest. Odd, for that was not necessarily the rules of fae. Odd, if they didn't leave survivors, then pray tell, how exactly the tale could be told at all? Well. Mortals loved to embellish the truth.

Bat-like ears twitch, taking in the sounds of the trees, and those within their canopy. Birds, insects, children playing near the entrance, too young to know the dangers of testing fate. Further ahead, rhythmic, slow tearing of stalks, too minute to be a tree felled. Rare traces of footfall.

Sure enough, a clearing. It is empty, simply an expanse where oak and redwood no longer grew for some reason or another. To the far edge there is one toppled tree, misshapen over years of use-- as a bench, likely. And two canids, their breed unrecognizable.

And here I was told their eyes would be red, not green. Avem's tail swishes, it's scythe shaped tip brushing the grass underfoot. "...No, I don't think so." He knows, immediately, that the two before him were hardly the only ones present. They lurked underfoot, restless.

The dragon's eyes fall to rest on the one who'd spoken out first. "Unless you could call wandering lost, then in which case, I would call it a matter of perspective. Following my nose, maybe?"

Started requested by @thegatesofinfinitespace!

Rare, that anyone wanders this far into the woodlands. His presence is felt long before he is seen, not that either of the twins will make that terribly apparent.

Grim is already quite set on ignoring any disturbance, not bothering to so much as turn toward the sound of approaching footfalls in the grass. Better that anyone curious enough to stop by decides to move on quickly.

Sable is the one that glances towards the stranger entering the clearing, ears perking slightly at the sight. A... dragon? How unusual. He tosses a newly plucked weed from the perimeter, before offering a half wave from where he's crouched. "Hey, you lost or somethin'?"

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((Hey guys! Apologies for the wait time, I'm just trying to get through a bunch of art projects that are taking some time for me. I have everyone's threads in my drafts and I have been working on them slowly, BUT I probably won't be starting the queue up until I'm done catching up.

Thank you for your patience, I really appreciate it.😅))

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{ Those who have faded in time, keep moving forward as to not be forgotten. }

Multi-muse, multi-fandom RP/ASK blog. Penned by Cristal/Cris. | she/any | 21+ All fandoms and verses are Fated with @overx .

Rules | Main Muses | Low Activity Muses | Deity Muses | Worlds[WIPs] | BonusStage-[WIPs]

Mobile Muse List Under Cut

[MUSES]

[Primary:] Muses that I'm the most likely to respond with.

- MZ (AU Maverick Zero from MegamanX) - Zain (AU Zero from Megaman X) - Seraph (AU Copy X from Megaman Zero) - Kane (Fandomless God OC) - Vesper (Fandomless Magic-user OC) - Kiz'met (Fandomless Demon OC)

[Secondary:] Muses that I write less often but are fleshed out.

- Psi (AU X from MegamanX) - Mave (OC for MegamanX) - Dr. Amelia Wily (AU Female Dr. Wily) - Xenos (Fandomless Demon OC) - Volga (AU Volga from Hyrule Warriors) - Issun (AU Issun from Okami) - Sonic the Hedgehog (x2 AUs, SatBK and Phantom Rider)

[Pantheon:] Gods of this corner of the Multiverse.

- Death (Fandomless God of Death) - Morozko (Fandomless God of Winter) - Quetzal (Fandomless God of Summer) - Moirai (Fandomless God of Fate) - Infinity (Fandomless God of Void)

[Pending Muses:] Free to write with, but susceptible to changes or could be dropped-- literally test muses. No icons or descriptions, DM me for more info if you're interested!

- Vash (AU Vash the Stampede from Trigun) - Risen King Chrom (AU Chrom from FEA) - Avem (AU Sonic the Hedghog OC) - Omen (AU Sonic the Hedgehog OC) - The First Hero (AU First Hero from LoZ: SS) -Danny (AU Danny from Danny Phantom) -Edward (AU Edward Elric from FMA) -The Knight (AU Knight/Ghost from HK)

[Other RP Blogs:]

@the-alternate-variable (WIP Sideblog for Extended AUs) @ziel-soundwave (Fandomless Sci-Fi OC and World) @the-broken-variable (Pre-Multimuse MZ and Psi)

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None of them were perfect. None of them were immune to their family, friends, loved ones being put in danger. Just because Zain had come to that conclusion easily, didn't mean it would stop him from making the same mistake he always had. And both of the X's...

No, it's no surprise why Psi would be angry, assuming Xanti had told him. I'll probably hear about that later. From both of them? Well, if the eldest alternate came by, it would be more than an earful. That's even without his X being aware of the more drastic attack on Xanti.

A mess, one they were still attempting to catch up on.

He's not going to leave his subordinate to be the recipient of Rock's ire alone. //He was present during an attack on a peace conference. The Maverick there had a grudge against any model recognizable as 'X' and any associated with it.// A much needed rephrase, the Commander raising a hand to the bartender to request another round of drinks.

//Thanks to Vi's,// the reason why the Hunter was included, //And my presence, no one was harmed. Including Xanti.// Before Rock came to any conclusions that would bring him to thinking he could interfere. Who was he kidding, it was Rock.

//We're investigating how the assailant could have even broken past security, that is why Xan is off playing nice with the GDC to begin with.// Politics and all that. Unfortunately, the Maverick Hunters didn't possess the weight of overwhelming authority the General was familiar to throwing around. They couldn't just go and dig for information without consequence. //No one here has the clearance you once had.//

The frustration of it all makes the Commander want to pinch the bridge of his nose, mirroring his friend's own pose, but he refrains. //I can only assume Xanti reached out to Psi at all is because the Maverick... is one Psi and I are both familiar with.//

It only made sense. Xanti was... probably trying to save his boyfriend the stress. While appreciated, Zain somewhat wished he hadn't, if only because it was two new parties that were now privy to their issues.

"He sure fuckin' did," Rockwell confirms with a half shrug. They appear to be on the same page about what that would imply at the very least. How out of the ordinary the interaction had been, and why it raised silent alarm bells.

The Light-bot pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he can't stand prying. He can't.

"...yeah I get it, you don't know what happened either." Typical, really. For being a living ray of sunshine, the younger X didn't really make himself available. Fucking typical. "I won't grill ya too much but... shit Zain." It's obviously serious.

Rock's eyes narrow as Vile is added to their internal comm chatter. I thought this shit was private. He defuses his own expression with a swig from his cocktail. His unimpressed gaze now peering over the rim at their third wheel. //That so? Well someone better start fuckin' explainin'.//

Vi is equally surprised to be included, rubbing the pack of his neck. Why do I feel like I'm in trouble? Of course, the only reason he'd be roped in at all is if it's about what happened at the RRC.

//Oh... yeah. That's-- I mean it's not complicated but it is.//

//We had an operation recently and...// Why the hell is this guy making him feel so nervous? "He'll be back soon I'm sure. You know how it is." Oh to be cursed with the role of the messenger. //He may or may not have been the target of an attack?// Not the main one, sure, but he's got the feeling that won't really cool Rock's temper much. Based on the expression across from him, that's a safe bet.

//For the record we made sure he wasn't hurt.//

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"...No. Before it wouldn't have been an inconvenience." He's not explaining that one much though. So much for wanting to hang out with someone he was just beginning to befriend.

"Seriously?" That has to be a joke. Then again, Zain's track record for everything outside of work isn't exactly stellar.

"...sir, with all due respect... wouldn't that have happened sooner?" They worked on the same unit while avoiding the shit out of each other, surely he isn't being jinxed now that they actually get along.

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"You... clearly haven't been around me long enough to find out." Well. "--Until now, maybe." It was probably infectious.

"Your luck is bad but there's no way it's bad enough to do this to me. I don't buy that for a minute, boss."

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"...That's... probably my fault."

"...why the hell is it so damn busy lately? My luck's bad but it's not this bad."

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Mania pulls at his sweater, the threads unravelling at the same pace as their sanity. Evening air feels all the more frigid with every hole puncturing through. He can feel the blaze of eyes, see them through the fibers of his sleeves and raw tears. It's hard to tell if they are the ones that make him want to flee, or the others that are gathering at the clear sight of a fight.

Humans, fae, mortals; all so inclined to watch when nothing was their business.

Reeled in like a fish on a hook, his only shield the same line. "If I--" No. "If--" No. No. "But I'm not, not if we--" Not if the Pact is broken. Not if I do something I can't take back. Not if you realize it's not me you want. Desperation, forged from a fear of change.

It doesn't make the Summoner feel better, the reminder of all the people that had what he didn't. Even if it had been him to bring them up at all. Contradictory, unclear. Not better? Of course they were, for every ounce of false confidence they had, at least they could back it up. Here he was with exactly what he wanted, and un-willing to grab it.

You don't know. Maybe that madness was only a side-effect. A demon felt every sin, the desire only a run-off of greed and envy at its finest.

A sob rips from Vesper's throat, but not at the piercing stab of nails at his sides. "This doesn't matter!" Anger, anxiety, a dangerous cocktail when mixed with alcohol, even if it wasn't much. "Not when--" The fingers covering his face leave only to smack against the Infernal's chest.

"I don't want to lose you!" Hands curling into fists, shaking. "If this doesn't work out, it could damage the contract. I don't want you to see me as I am and realize I'm not--" His forehead bumps against his demon, voice cracking against a wail rising in his throat. "I'm not what you want. I can't--"

"I can't lose you, Voluntas."

Unending tears, and circular fury. They’re trapped in a spiral of madness, of obsession, of affection, of self loathing. Too alike in all the wrong ways. Of course. Of course they are perfectly mirrored like this, portraits of each other’s woes.

Every revolting, corrosive, self destructive impulse shared.

Voluntas wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, at the mania only forged in love. Claws buckle instinctively as his prize pulls away, the mere twitch shredding the few fibers caught beneath. They are on the cusp of something dangerous, something that cannot be undone. His tail thrashes, flames catching on the pavement below its path.

“You are mine whether you deserve it or not. Whether you want it, or not.” There is a snarl in his teeth as leans to close the new gap, a wildness in his desperation. I do not care if I am the one leaving roses on your grave or the one digging it.

“You think they are not fake?” More sparks of gold flash between his fangs. Contempt. Every mortal that clung to his arm, that vied for an ounce of approval. “Shallow, opportunistic thrill seekers trying to ignore the emptiness.” That is one thing he shared with those mortals Vesper so envied. “They fill my glass, I fill theirs, killing time they do not have.” To feed the ravenous appetite of the void in his own selfish core. “They are not better than you.”

They are not better than me.

His fingers curl tighter, feeling the knit of Vesper’s sweater give thread by delicate thread as he physically reels the human in.

Unstable beast.

“I said I want you,” unreasonable. “I want everything. Your jealousy, your deceit, your obsession.” An insatiable craving for all the facets long hidden. For all the secrets he’s known are just out of view. “I want to know everything you love. Everything you hate.” Delicate flesh scrapes against his nails, the jaws of a predator finally clamping down on a rabbit. “You drive me mad at the mere thought of you.” Blood, the scent again faintly drilling into his skull.

“Do. You. Want. This?” Every word is charged, the last remnants of the Infernal’s self restraint in plain view.

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XZeroWeek: Day 7

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As his boyfriend gets comfortable, as comfortable as someone like Verse could, X returns his attention to the scattered pieces before him. Almost there, just a few more adjustments before he can don the weapons proper, and then his auto-repair would handle the finishing touches.

There's nothing he can say in response to Verse's quip, so he doesn't.

Hand raising to slide the goggles back down over his eyes, Psi twirls the soldering iron like a pen, leaning back over the cuirass. Little sparks fly as he sears parts together, testing the circuitry as he goes. The color that manifests as they reconnect shifts to a navy, same as the original armor he'd been hardwiring to his own. Fitting.

The brunet raises the completed piece in hand, scanning over its surface for any faults in durability. "You're busy, and I'm just one person." Seemingly satisfied, he sets it down, reaching for the back-plate to repeat the process. "It would be irresponsible to ask you to shift your attention to this." A million other worlds, a million other timelines.

This one hardly meant anything in the grand scheme of things.

...But all that is, is an excuse.

X doesn't look up again, reaching for a pauldron. "I decided to integrate your armor into the structure." Though Verse could probably tell simply by observing. "If I get hit hard enough for it to be threatening, you'll know." Onto the other pauldron. "I don't plan on risking my life though. This is all just precaution."

"...and you never have projects," is replied in kind. Psi's observation is an anticipated one as he enters. The X established already that the two of them have a routine whether the OVER-unit realized it or not. Even so, nothing about this scene is standard. Those parts are... teal optics scan across the various components, taking them in. They are mismatched pieces, being forged anew.

An armor.

There are so many questions he could ask, but most would be pointless between them. Only serving the formalities of normal conversation. The X needed no such restraint on his part, keenly aware of Verse's mechanics by now. There is nothing that happens here without my knowledge.

Except for one thing... Verse settles beside the other machine, fixated on his companion

"...why haven't you asked me to intervene?" To the point, although the words cannot carry much weight under the monotony of the reploid's voice. "I do not understand your thought process."

Then again, his partner never asked for anything else to be fixed either.

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It's he!! The pretty boy himself!!!

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Silence stretches between them, no call of wildlife to fill the space, only the whisper of wind buffetting the Tower walls.

Though no combat would result of their paths crossing, tension coats every movement. The GodHunter's glare is scathing, and it did nothing to alter the situation. Kane's posture didn't shift either, no intention of allowing--

Interrupting their staring match is the loud crash of the door bashing against obsidian walls, its slam echoing down the halls, no furniture to mitigate the sound. While his newest guest's gaze may have snapped towards the only other human in Province, the Wasteland God's posture hardly changes.

It is a pregnant silence that once more hits the hallway, and slowly the Immortal tilts his head towards the blacksmith. His tone is flat, almost disappointed. Only one word-- a name-- is said.

"Tali-mae."

In truth, they could have stood here staring each other down indefinitely. Why the god even cared where he went is its own annoying enigma. In a place wholly unoccupied by anyone but the two of them, what difference could it possibly make?

Especially while the hunter was still licking his wounds.

Still, he can't help getting the impression that the immortal is safeguarding something in the quiet tension.

What are you hiding?

The silence grows stagnant as the minutes pass by, with nothing to show for it but mutual stubbornness.

What causes the Godhunter's gaze to break is the unexpected sound of the heavy door slamming open. "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, THE CURIOSITY IS KILLING ME!" Tali cries, parading out into the hallway.

"The least you two could do is having an interesting conversation, but NO. You bring someone home and he's just as anti-social as you Kane. Ugh!" She's all but pouting at the both of them, arms crossed. "Here I thought something interesting was finally going to happen around here."

[thegatesofinfinitespace]

Tales of the Maverick Hunter went far past his own timeline, a Legend in his own right while being distinctly different than the tales of Megaman X. While anyone else would have done it for the sake of being star-struck, the Copy had a different motive in mind.

(Zero will be here soon, thank goodness for Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero.)

It was the same one that had stirred him into helping Vile-- though he had later gained a friend out of that Hunter as well. And that exact same motive made him stick around, because if he did... Then there would be a chance to meet said motive himself.

Zero, yeah, because that's what all the whispers were about. Zero, because there was a chance at helping the reploid back home in crimson armor. Except. Except, "You don't look like..." No moonlight-silver hair. Detached disposition, maybe, but not the same kind of despondence he was used to. Not the same kind of aura that made him seem like he was from an era long gone, out of place in the world. Not... his Zero.

Seraph hesitates, attention drawn once more to the eyes on him that he'd been attempting to ignore. He can't help his disappointment, having once been opportunistic at the idea he could maybe gain knowledge for... To stop... Ah. Those were his own problems.

"Yeah, I'm... new." Not a lie. "Not much I can do to make them feel more comfortable around me." Even if he wanted to. Feels like I'm in Neo Arcadia. "What's their deal anyways?" Was it really his optic color? Wasn't like he was hurting anyone.

@thegatesofinfinitespace asked:

"You're telling me, you're Zero?" There's clear disbelief in those words, irritation at being inconvenienced. For what little excitement Seraph had once had at the realization he was a long way from home, it faded quickly. Vile had mentioned something about his red eyes, the color significant for the era of 21XX, but its meaning had become long lost by the time the Copy had come to exist. There had to be some merit to that, for regardless of the fact he'd chosen to walk in civvies, there were glances and whispers in his direction. It was more than enough to set him on edge, and here he was now with company. "You must be joking." Zero didn't look like that.

First Vile, now this.

If Zero thought that Axl was capable of pulling a prank without telling him then all bets would have been on that. As it was, the red-haired reploid wouldn't last more than five seconds without exploding from keeping the secret. It definitely wasn't him.

"Am I?" He hadn't even introduced himself. He hadn't planned to, actually; any citizens of Abel City recognized him, in or out of armor, and what Maverick didn't know about the 'Crimson Devil' or 'Blond Menace' or... he could have sword he heard 'Red Scare' come up once. Zero found himself often regretting not being able to keep that maverick alive for questioning. It still haunted him that he didn't get to know just what exactly they thought that meant.

Red eyes didn't always mean maverick, but it was a common-enough 'symptom' of one of the viruses that no new reploids were being built any more with red eyes. Zero always thought that was pointless, and was just leaning into the atmosphere of unease and terror, but he had given up trying to understand the changes and shifts in human politics. It always felt rooted in fear, not in actually making things better-- and all of that was beside the point.

"Care to let me in on the joke? I'm sure it's hilarious." And a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "In the meantime though, are you... new around here? Cause you're certainly makin' all the locals real uncomfy."