Hastur wakes up, disheveled and languid as he commonly is. He's desperately looking for coffee and/or nutrition.
No Name is cleaning up the hangar, wiping up oil blots and scraping off elusive patches of rusted steel. When he notices any, electricity sparks sizzle around him as he projects serrated blades to properly clean metal so no rust is left.
No Name
starts cleaning up rust as he feels someone's hand on his shoulder. He promptly turns around as Artorias approaches him, then sighs out in relief as he realizes the knight from earliter.
(@Artorias) No Name: Hm. Yes, sure.
@No Name: Those blades you made, they seem to possess some resembelance to the original. I wanted to ask you...
—Artorias withdraws his blade,
presenting it to No Name. It's covered in Abyssal Corruption and almost a shadow of its former self. Yet somehow, the original blade, the Greatsword of Artorias, can be glimpsed past the corruption—
@No Name: Could you help me restore my blade?
edited 21st Nov '16 10:25:47 AM by LightningLancer
'If you fall seven times, stand up eight.' The cry of the Undead.No Name puts the bucket of water aside then makes his projections dissipate. Silently he observes the blade, touches it once or twice, tests its balance. He then hands it back to Artorias.
(@Artorias) No Name: Well. The blade is largely intact, but it's a shadow of its former self. I can assist. But it won't have anything to do with projection magic, just with my skill of blacksmith. Will that suffice?
edited 21st Nov '16 10:32:38 AM by TheRiddleOfCards
—Artorias frowns at the answer, but he knew he might've been setting standards too high. However the possibility of removing the outer corruption is too good for him to pass up.—
@No Name: I can assist you. This blade was made within a magical forge by the Blacksmith god of my land, so if you are a blacksmith yourself, I may be able to assist you. I oversaw its forging, but some of the materials we may need are...difficult to come by.
After all, the blade was forged from a portion of my own soul, and I shudder to think what my soul's current condition will do to the blade. However I will assist you wherever I can.
Sorry But have to get off after this post.
'If you fall seven times, stand up eight.' The cry of the Undead. Previously on Dragon Ball Z Planet Cyrogen
You all were in the middle of harvesting artifacts for a client known as "The Terran Alliance", you had been dispatched to an Abandoned Research Lab, where you managed to find a fucking goldmine of experimental tech, but you you were unable to make out with it when security nanites threatened to eat you alive in your attempt.
Since then events have been relitivly uneventfull, a full week has passed with a massive blizzard making the outside of your research base un-traversable, but the snow monsoon seems to finaly be letting up, and the weather is looking nicer.
Things look like they are able to go back to full swing, and life is once agian returning to the base, however overhead something new looms, multiple ships visible in the temperate zone above your heads.
Zeon Space
-After another session of fucking around with his MJOLNIR, Six takes a moment to really think about the loss of his hand-
-Introspectively, he stares at the bandaged stump, and the space where five fingers used to be...-
Cryogen
-Noble Six inspects a fragmentation grenade, and is satisfied to find that it's only gotten a bit of ice on it due to the weather-
-before clipping it to his belt-
"Seven is here too, dressed like the concept of choosing clothes that look nice together was an arcane secret far beyond their grasp."Naomi: And? If you're going to attack a planet you drop soldiers onto it. You don't hang around in the sky shouting "Oh hey, I'm a big battleship, shove a cruise missile up my main thruster!"
edited 21st Nov '16 2:06:24 PM by SpartyMcFly
"Seven is here too, dressed like the concept of choosing clothes that look nice together was an arcane secret far beyond their grasp."Naomi: -to Turax- Maybe. But they'd either have to be big idiots or really pompous to float up in the skies like that. And... yeah, one wouldn't be enough. But you never just shoot one.
...Come to think of it, how are they floating up there? Anything bigger than a corvette can't get back into space if you get it into atmosphere.
edited 21st Nov '16 2:11:58 PM by SpartyMcFly
"Seven is here too, dressed like the concept of choosing clothes that look nice together was an arcane secret far beyond their grasp."

Six: Disarmament isn't the correct word. I prefer "in consistent need of a hand".
"Seven is here too, dressed like the concept of choosing clothes that look nice together was an arcane secret far beyond their grasp."