The Secutor had ignored her threats and returned to his position, guarding with his omni-sight. He cared little for some random mechanicus-mutant hybrids threats, especially against one who follows the path of the machine like himself. The Servo-Skull floated with a low buzzing away, deeper into the womb of the ship. Without a data-slate and a modified interior, Echidna knew she was completely relying on the Skull to find to her destination. Would it be a trap? Or would a greater task await her, after all this time? Was good or bad at hand for her? Alas, only time could tell. As they passed the crew, they made space left and right, the servo-skull obviously belonging to the Master of Security that everyone expected but instead only saw followed by a magnificent and yet terrifying being alike. From the front, the prettiest some men ever have laid their eyes upon. But once she passed.... Those wings that screamed 'Mutant' came into light. One fool was mesmerized enough to trail behind her, just like her already-minion, Minotaur did.
“Perhaps if you had armed the previous batch better you wouldn't have me intruding.” Taking off his helmet Grythan deliberately left a pause in his speech. Just long enough for the Warp Smith to hear the statement and get annoyed by the presumption but not enough time for him to react. “So how about you arm THIS batch better then the last lot?” With a wink and a smile Grythan settled into a neutral posture his weapons holstered but within reach. “I'm Grythan, and I'm going to be making sure you get the parts you need from MY defeated foes. So what have you got for me to help you with?”
Argyle found his own knowledge of other war bands or even founding legions woefully short due to his late rebirth as an Astartes. The Crimson Shrieks had been less than well equipped for the remaking of flesh and even less capable with hypnotic indoctrination that loyalist went through as standard leaving him with only basic knowledge on his own new form to keep it working on top of what he already had. What this did allow him to do though was spot and recognize a fine enough specimen of a woman...and those garish colors, daringly stupid his sister might have once called it back home. Then there was the Raptor, a touch more familiar with the unit as opposed to the Legionnaire filling the role though he noted such regal coloring and for a moment considered perhaps another kindred spirit of sorts, though the slight wash of speckled pink was off putting enough to instill a sense of weariness. All this he noted whilst perusing the data-slate face an un-breaking mask of civility and composure even through the Commissar's dare. "It means I've no employer or benefactor at this time good Sir, privy only to my own whims and hungers. " Chuckling to himself as if remembering a private joke the ashen warrior could very well cut a much more Slaaneshi tune were it not for the giant 'I AM A KHORNATE MURDERER' tabard, compensating perhaps? "So tell me where would you recommend I make my first stop Commissar? "
"I only create and modify for those that earned the Commander's trust to do so. He decides who gets access to my services. And I suggest you better remove yourself from my gaze before I decide that you become part in my next project." The Warpsmith countered, the workers chuckling at the comment. The Raptor was in the domain of the Iron Warrior, if he hasn't before, then now he would see sentries pointed at his way. One does not simply insult an Iron Warrior and get away with it. "Depends what your heart seeks. Blood is to be found in the Fighting Pits. If you actually care, you could see to the rooms that are being prepared for the newcomers, such as yourself. Though you don't seem really to have any luggage with you. Soooo why not go and beat up some of our prisoners that are told if they win they have their freedom back? We got some.... Excellent specimen." The Commissar had an ugly grin among his face, keeping it mysterious to entice the curiosity of the brute warrior.
"Sounds more than suiting, I thank you good Sir. " With a shallow bow he made up the ramp into the ship, yes the pits sounded much to his liking. A chance to show off? Certainly. A possible recruiting ground? Hopefully. Everyone needed their sycophants or admirers after all, even if they wouldn't admit it. There could be much to gain for both himself and the Blood God honing up a few extra killers in his name of that he was very much certain.
The threat of the Warpsmith hung in the air. Their was no sport here only threats, humourless smiths and grease. Grythan had forgotten how drab the Iron Warriors could be, I wonder if the lack of wit is inborn or surgically removed later on. Nonetheless being turned into defiler or worse sounded unappealing and bland. “Well, if your going to be like that and not play” with a slightly sarcastic bow Grythan turned and left. He gave the sentries a short unconcerned gaze as he left. Walking a few corridors away he stop, got out the data-slate and thought to himself. “Well the commander hasn't summoned me, and the Armoury is a most.... unsavoury place. Where shall I go?” Thinking back to his previous conversations he remembered the recommendations of the Commissar about the fighting pits. “Perhaps a little distraction, to lighten the mood.” he said as he walked towards the Fighting Pits
"So... are you less of a bore than Minotaur is?", the now upright Echidna asked the servo-skull in ordinary vocalized speech. Hands folded behind her back, her white irises carefully followed the soft bobbing of Kirsten as they made their way through the ship space. "If... that is morse, I'm afraid I only read of it. How comes all the undead machina are only fluent in binary code? See, this is why I made Maneater. He couldn't speak binary, sure, but he could roar and crash and squeak and... well I suppose he wasn't talkative either but ah this is me rambling again." It was then that she noticed Minotaur becoming slower, and as she turned around to check on him, she noticed the entranced man following her, and the servitor matching his own speed to the entranced one's. "Do not kill", she said sharply, losing all trace of amusement and accent as her brain was reminded that she was falling out of character once more. Wearing a billion masks over such a long lifetime made her somewhat slippery in terms of psyche. The servitor simply nodded and picked up his pace, thunderous steps resounding through the metal floor as he kept up with the swiftly-walking woman trying to keep up with what probably once was a woman. With her clear state of mind, she didn't fail to notice the mixture of longing and disgust in the gazes of the men around her, but at the moment, there was nothing she could really do about it but stand it. More pressing matters were at hand, and right now, the sultry seductress did not have much sense for seducing. You're forgetting something, Syren. Oh yes. I do. She turned to the entranced man, raising an eyebrow at him, continuing to follow Kirsten, walking backwards and just trusting the background white noise the thing emitted to lead her to wherever she had to be. "Oh you little pathetic man", she hissed with venom in her tone and the quirky accent replaced by a hard edge to her voice. "You found the light to your moth, didn't you? Begone, if you follow me further I will order my guardian to kill you."
~~ Gladiator Arena (@DeranVendar ) ~~ Just in the hallways of the gladiator pits it was clear that the action was going on... Cheers, screams and roars were heard in the distance. As this Khornate finally got deep enough to nourish his eyes on the gladiator he indeed was not going to be disappointed... A huge Ork, clad in Power Armor bits and colored Blue and White with awkward symbols that looked like those of the Ultramarines was fighting an Alien which wore little more than what looked like a spandex, though in reality it was high-tech mesh armor which could easily withstand monoblades. Only light plating of Wraithbone armor covered chest, upper and lower arms and thighs, as well as knee-pads and short plating emitting from foot toward the knee. They were apparently put in modules on top of the mesh armor to keep mobility at it's highest. Awkwardly enough he wore a weird helmet that suddenly shot a laser beam that burned a hole through the Orks power armor and into his flesh. When he launched forward with his massive Power Fists after the little Eldar, he simply jumped up and landed on the head of the Ork. But the Ork seemed smart and let himself fall while twisting in the air to land on his back, almost smashing the Eldar under himself. Unluckily for the Greenskin he jumped off before being smashed. Both got back on their feet with a couple of feet distance to each other. The Eldar ran forward, despite no obvious weapon. The Ork readied to smash his huge power fists into the little Eldar, but he slid beneath his legs, shot a sudden laser beam into his crotch, right where some plating was missing, causing the Ork to drop on his knees from the sudden pain. One moment later, the Ork obliterated from a sudden explosion, it seems a grenade was planted under him before the Eldar distanced himself completely. "I take my freedom now!" He announced, the guests clapping, howling and also laughing. The Eldar.... Was less amused. He put his foot down and roared in anger, unleashing his visor-laser upon guests, only to find it being reflected on an invisible shield. A void shield. Some sort of Announcer stepped forward on a platform that hung over the arena, all the spotlights shining upon him. "It seems the Cursing Eye of Mymeara has prevailed against the great Ork Waagh Lord who was part of the so called Deff Watchas. But my cunning eyes have spotted a newcomer to the Arena." Suddenly all the spot lights shone upon the Khornate. "A newcomer who wants to serve in the rows of our glorious Commander. What will his decision be? Challenge the current champion? Or will he walk away with what he came? Nothing at all? What do you say?!" The Man with sunglasses from the platform demanded to know. Almost immediately a Servo Skull with Picter and Microphone floated before him. The face of the individual across the big screens of the gladiator hall. ~~ Elsewhere on the Mercy Lost ~~ (@Nurianis ; @Loldoom ; @Colapse ) The Data-Slates of the newcomers, additional with some terminals suddenly had switched to a man's face in a dark arena with the headline. 'A new Challenger has entered the Gladiator Arena.' ~~ Armory (@Nurianis ) ~~ Just as he left the armory, the broadcast of a new challenger already had appeared on the data-slate. The Iron Warrior let him leave, too busy with his work. ~~ Corridors of Lost Mercy (@Casavay ) ~~ He was devoted to follow her into certain death, until another crewmen recognized him and dragged him off, shaking his head after giving him a slap across his face. He should know the Commanders protocol better by now, and the importance of his own life. He still gazed at her until he was dragged around the corner... The Servo-Skull did not react in the slightest until they arrived in front of a room, the Servo-Skull hovered to the side, probably expecting the newcomer to open it...
Argyle looked to the servo-skull mounted pict recorder and gave a rather genuine grin as began to walk out toward the arena. "A challenge it is! " All levity left his features as he made his way down to an entrance gate pulling free his claymore and weighing it in a single hand, eyes narrowing in on his opponent with a hawkish gaze, lips pulled into a tight line as if he wished to scowl but was simply incapable. Having danced with these xenos rarely, only odd rogue world skirmishes with the more wayward or exploratory of their kin, he knew at least that they were agile and graceful combatants and would need to play up his superior strength to make each and every blow count.
Arriving at the Fighting Pits Grythan noticed the diplomat standing in the spotlight. Along with the implicit challenge hanging in the air. “What an interesting diversion indeed.” He muttered as he stopped at the doorway. Watching the combat with great interest, he kept an eye on Argyle throughout the fight watching his every move. Analysing his skills and sizing him up. Grythan stood in the doorway and watched with interest.
