meadowlark | text; @trevor.belmont

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text; @trevor.belmont

Greetings, fellow Displaced. I'm Trevor Belmont, and I have a slightly different type of inquiry than the sort I've been seeing 'posted' on here so far.

I haven't found a library or similar resource, and am struggling with learning relevant information using the network alone. Not facts about our situation, but about this strange future we've found ourselves in. Most people here seem to be from far further along than I am, enough to work the facilities and use a very different vocabulary to mine... I suppose I'm wondering if anyone has the time and inclination to be a tutor, of sorts? Just to explain some of this technology and catch me up on relevant terms and events from the past millennium or so, hopefully enough that I can stop turning every conversation I have into a game of a thousand questions. Folks have been fairly understanding, but it's not ideal.

My only request is that anyone who responds not treat me as a fool or a child. I'm fresh out of the past, not a crib.

I've no way to pay you, yet, but hopefully we can work something out. And I do thank you in advance for your consideration.

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[ He returns the gesture, and drinks again. It's been years since he's had alcohol and he's been falling back into the habit of it here. There are nights when it gets him to sleep when nothing else will, and that's as close to a kindness as he feels like allowing. ]

Planet killers. An AI that showed people their worst nightmares to see if they were a true warrior.

[ They've already talked about the alien thing. Though not too many details. Sharkface hums to himself. ]

The Sangheili had swords made out of pure energy. Cauterized every wound they made, if they didn't get you straight in half.

What are AI? They sound mystical.

[ He recognizes the name of the aliens, though, and comprehends the rest of the statements. The energy swords get a low whistle. ]

Quite a blade, then. How does one make a sword out of energy, if not by magic... electricity?

They're machines, created to help with tasks. Entirely digital. Some of them were like people. Had personalities.

[ He never used one himself, but he's seen the aftermath. He takes another drink, dark thoughts churning, and tries to push it aside. ]

Similar principal. They have a power source that generate and shape the blade when it's activated. Went through our armor like butter.

...entirely digital? Intangible, then, how do they function? I don't understand where the information actually is, on the network here.

[ Trevor lets out a low whistle at the blade cutting through armor like butter, shaking his head. ]

Quite a blade indeed.

Have you ever used anything like that?

[ Sharkface leans back in his chair a bit, considering how best to explain. ]

Tech isn't my area, but....think of it like language. You can write a word down on paper and make a sign, or you can speak it, and cause another person to act. When information is digital, that means it's broken into code and then decoded at the access point. Intangible, but the impact is real.

[ He exhales slowly. The metaphor might have gotten away from him a bit there. ]

Energy swords? No. I had a hardlight shield, though. Similar principal to the sword, except the design was defensive. Saved my ass more than a few times.

[ That's... mostly understandable? Trevor can figure it out based on context, at least, and nods. He doesn't understand how it's transferred and translated, but knows that it is and that's really all he needs to know. Even if they let the Displaced work with the more complex, secure tech here, Trevor has no interest in going into such a field. He needs to do something more practical and he knows it. ]

A shield? Fascinating... what metal would you say it was comparable to?

They're not really comparable to metal. [ He sits up. This he can talk about. ] They're lighter, for one thing. Three pounds, max. But they take power to maintain. Older models crapped out after a couple shots. Newer ones just keep going and going.

[ He misses that thing. Would've been useful here. ]

Oh? And what sort of weapons can they stand up to?

Just about anything that's not concussive, or using excessive heat.

[ It's a hell of a tool, but there are ways around it. Sharkface nods, remembering. ]

The shield will hold up against just about anything. Swallowed a shot from a fifty calibre rifle like it was nothing. That's a bullet this size.

[ He holds up his fingers to demonstrate. ]

Shot like that would've blown someone's head clean off if they weren't wearing armor. Fucked up their day even if they were. Shield can take it just fine, but if you don't brace right it'll knock you off balance.

[ And nothing good ever happens when you get knocked to the ground. ]

[ Trevor blinks, astounded by a bullet that could take someone's head off. It's large, yes, but. Geez. ]

That sounds absolutely brutal -- the weaponry developed in your time. It's good you have such defenses as well, but I can only imagine the carnage in battle.

[ He shrugs. Takes another drink. ]

It gets ugly. But it can get ugly when people go at each other with knives, too.

[ These days he's fairly convinced that it's human nature for people to go at each other with as much brutality as they can muster. Just how it goes. ]

The scale changed, though. I think that's the big difference from your time. If I had a good rifle, I could kill a man a thousand feet away. If I had a missile, I could do it from a different planet.

[ Wait what.

Trevor boggles for a moment, because yes he understands the concept but... it's just so unfathomable. ]

...and has that happened?

Yeah.

[ Happened a lot. Sharkface watches Trevor for a moment, wondering which part of that is throwing him. ]

Yeah, it has.

For what purpose?

[ That's a hell of a question. Sharkface leans back, turning it over in his head. ]

To destroy fortifications. Bring down a ship or decimate an enemy's numbers. Or sometimes just to kill as many people as possible. Level a city if it's pissed you off.

[ It's impossible not to think of planet killers, and the one he handed over to Felix. Why not? he'd thought. Why the fuck not? Chorus was going to fall. It felt inevitable and he hadn't cared, so long as he could find Carolina and Washington before the end and tear them apart. Even if he just took Carolina with him, it would have been enough.

And yet. He remembers landing on Glassed out planets, the way they had seemed to shimmer from the air. The smell of it. Like pure ozone.

He twitches. Tightens his grip on his drink and does not go there. ]

Modern technology.

[ It's the scale of it that makes Trevor so uncomfortable. That he can't imagine. Killing without even seeing the targets is terrifying because it removes the human aspect of it. Or the demon one. It's just killing for the sake of killing, really, the purposes abstract and huge and... ]

...evil. [ He notes the way Ephemera's hand tightens on his glass, and breathes slow and steady. ] There is always war, of course, but such a scale is evil. Such weapons are a manifestation of the worst of people, I don't-- I don't know if I could ever wield such a thing, even if it would wipe out every demon on the surface of the earth.

Edited 2020-01-21 01:50 (UTC)

Then you're better than all of the commanders I served under.

[ There was only one worth following in the entire goddamn universe and his name had been Hunter. But he'd died in the desert, he'd died with Connie's name and Connie's armor, and he did that alone because his one remaining soldier hadn't been able to walk on his own. Couldn't keep up and so he'd been left behind, to live while his brother died. And now there's no one left but him. Sharkface hates himself for that.

Evil, Trevor calls it, and Sharkface nods. Evil.

Yeah. He was. ]

I don't want to talk about this. [ He finishes his drink with a grimace, wishing it would kick in faster. ] C'mon, ask me something else.

Perhaps. I've very little experience as one but I think I did alright.

[ He doesn't really want to talk about this anymore either, especially as he expects a great deal of his research will have to do with wars and the progressive destruction of this planet. Not pleasant topics. ]

Something else, then. Why did the people of your time leave Earth for other worlds?

[ It'd be hard to do worse, Sharkface doesn't say. He just shakes his head. Those are dark thoughts. Bad memories to tread through. ]

Lot of reasons. Some because they wanted a better shot. Thought they'd get a better life if they started out somewhere new. Or they didn't like the politics.

[ It's a vague answer. History was never his strong suit, though. Sharkface shrugs. ]

Same reasons people go anywhere new.

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