Walter Ozwyrd
Day 1
◈ Time: Dusk/Evening
◈ Weather: Light Rain
◈Location: Harold's Academy, Outside the Ballroom
◈ Participants: Walter Ozwyrd
@A Lowly Wretch, Professor Incanowitz
@Aeolian
Hunched over the prone form of the gravely wounded professor Walter had a choice to make:
Try to rescue the professor or pilot the seraphim.
While he felt grossly unqualified to take the mantle of a seraphim pilot and feared that without medical treatment the old guy would probably die the main issue was the likely hood of being able to escort him to the infirmary in time, also measured against the likelihood of whether the infirmary was still standing or if had already been abandoned... Or worse.
If he were to escort him to safety in the high likelihood that they were attacked it was all but certain that either one or both of them would die. He had managed to successfully slay one Pupa and a fair bit of luck played into that. If fortune decided not to favor him then a single pupa could still get the best of him. Worse yet if any more than one pupa attacks him at once there was no way he could successfully stand his ground. One would occupy him while the other would catch him unaware and it would take little more than one stray stab to quickly end his desperate struggle. If the professor wasn't wounded so badly the odds would not be so uneven but such is as it was.
_
"C'mon! Up you stand. We're going to the seraphim." Ordered Walter, hoisting the older man up by the arm and slinging it over his shoulder so he might act as a sort of crutch for him.
"Wh... What? I-, ah-" Incanowitz struggled through the pain, trying to clear his mind enough to comprehend just what Walter was trying to do.
"I- I cannot... In this state I'd d-die trying... trying to pilot." It hurt his pride to say but all the same he could not sacrifice a working seraphim to sate his pride, to believe what he knows is not true, not now.
"Yeah, you probably would. That's why you're gonna tell me how to fly this thing." Walter hauled forth, burdening upon his light frame a larger man than he as he made his way to the great machine with as much haste as he possessed. Incanowitz looked down at him, a mixture of surprise and some skepticism. While it was no doubt dangerous to send forth a student with basically zero experience piloting a seraphim there was few others still around able to fill the seat. Walter had vim but little else going for him. All the same, he was impressed with his drive and an inexperienced pilot was still a better candidate than one who flitted between bouts of consciousness, struggling simply to keep the fragments of his skull from rattling loose about the mess of neurons he still had working.
"Hrr... You will need to, hrng, enter through the mouth. It should respond to a vitess infusion, allowing you to open... Open the way inside." As he limped along, barely able to stand as the kid did most of the walking for him, he gestured to a spot nearby. Some rubble had fallen, forming a small cover just large enough and deep enough to tuck someone in so they're unseen from outside.
"Over there. Set me down. I'll tell you... T-tell you what to do." Just as he was instructed Walter took him over, leaning him against the wall the rubble was resting against so he wouldn't slide back down onto his back like before.
"Once... Once inside you will enter the brain. A s-seat will await you. sit within, place your... h-hands in the folds next to your sides. L-let it flow into it. Pull it's limbs. F-force it to walk, to swing, to... to fight.""Right! I'll quickly go dust some Ni-Seraphs then come right back t'get ya some help you hear!" Walter assured the professor. Pained breaths and a shallow nod were his only reply. Things weren't looking good for him. All the same, nobody else would be any better off if the Ni-Seraph were not stopped before they reached the school. The wind cast droplets of water from the back of his coat and the rim of his hat as he turned to face the seraphim. It seemed to stare out, daring any to rise to the challenge.
_
Flying up to it's mouth Walter looked befuddled, wondering just how he was expected to enter if it's mouth was closed. He approached the inert colossus and pressed his palm against the bottom lip.
"Well, here goes nothing." He spoke aloud to nobody in particular before focusing on his hand, envisioning energy flowing through it into the surface it rested upon in an effort to will it forth.
He gave a start as glowing lines lit up, the energy flowing forth like water through transparent channels across it's surface. The cobalt blue essence infused the lip, resulting in it opening as if it were a reflex. The maw was now open, the entrance to this great mechanical beast now agape before him.
Tentatively but with some urgency he slipped into the stony mouth of the machine. It felt quite wholly unnatural for him, a human, to climb inside the mouth of something that mirrored monsters who used great winds to pull their victims into their mouths. This was, after all, the petrified body of one such Ni-Seraph, given new purpose through technomancy. He quickly looked about, partially in awe of standing inside this man-altered wonder but nonetheless the task at hand kept him mind focused on progressing. Right at the back the roof of the mouth gave way to an opening which led up into the brain proper where the seat of the pilot laid. He ventured up to find himself in something wholly unfamiliar, one might say alien even.
Cold stone grey neurons all laid pressed up against every corner of the room, from the walls to the roof and even the floor though most of it was bathed in darkness save for the small amount of light coming from the vitesse powered veins beneath Walter's feet, lines tracing out along the intended path. He took a couple investigative steps forward, his hands brushing up against a sort of railing which he then grabbed onto. As soon as he did more lines snaked out from his palm along the rail, tracing up a post leading up into the darkness. Within a moment the whole room lit up with lines, illuminating the sealed chamber with it's ambient cobalt glow.
It was like if someone had cracked open the head of a sea dragon and pushed aside it's brain so they could stick a bunch of stuff inside. In the middle of the room safely kept behind the railing the inert brain matter seemed pushed up against where the pilot's seat was located, a chair of fine decor like one a person could find at an upper-class parlour, only divorced from it's more terrestrial identity upon seeing the many wires, tubing, straps and metal restraints that adorned it. He cautiously stepped forward until he found himself at the seat proper, sitting himself upon it and then applying the straps where needed. Right above the chair loomed a wide obsidian mirror, square and held fast using a brass frame of sorts. It was hooked up with many wires as well, hanging from a jointed metal support that was anchored to the ceiling.
Now fixed to the seat, feeling like he's more set up for the electric chair than the pilot's seat, he set his hands into two stony crevices set in the cold grey neuron nodules, reaching into something that was probably once organic. Once he could feel the metal palm pads against his hands he attempted to focus energy through them not unlike how he did at mouth of the machine. His teeth grit and fingers tensed when the restrained hummed to life shortly before holding him fast. He was immobile now, cold metal pressed against his hands, neck and ankles. The mirror seemed to lower on it's own, orienting itself into the center of his field of view before illuminating all on it's own. It was not the same latent blue energy that flowed but rather a cohesive image, not unlike those spun by some of the illusionists at school. The image was that of the view of the school, Ni-Seraph's in the distance currently combating the teachers and some others. He was puzzled until it clicked: This was the view from the very eyes of the Seraphim, looking ahead from where it stood.
_
Any who were outside could see or at the very least hear as the large stone colossus attempted to step forward, only to drop to it's hands and knees. As more vitesse saturated the seraphim it's stone became pliable, joint's crunching with dust and other matter. Old air that was trapped within it's chest escaped as it's chest flexed, pushing with it's hands against the ground in an attempt to right itself back up again. Awkwardly it lifted, stumbling a bit before managing to stand proper. Inside he was still getting to grips with the mechanics of this whole piloting business. He wasn't aware that to manipulate the feet he needed to take his boots off first and was hastily trying to shake them off his feet so he could operate the foot pads in time.
Meanwhile he was still figuring out just what interaction produced which motion. It felt like trying to move in a dream, willing a motion only to see it but there was minimal feedback, like he was moving underwater. He could tell when a limb would come into contact with something and stop but there was none of the other tactile feedback he was so accustomed to. One other student he had spoken to had likened it to moving a marionette, extending strings throughout and pulling them to puppeteer the vessel in a sort of manner. He wasn't sure if this is what he would call puppeteering but right now at the very least he could say his vessel had the stability of a questionably stringed marionette.
Finally able to engage with his feet he took a couple baby steps before needing to stabilize himself against the nearby building. The roof cracked and roof tiles shattered, clattering down as the whole building rumbled under the seraphim's weight.
"Aaallrighty now... Nice n' easy..." He assured himself as he stood his seraphim back up. Looking ahead he identified where the Ni-Seraph's were fighting. This was it, the moment all this buildup was waiting for. It was time to sail in and save the day, so to speak. With the gusto of duty and everyone's lives hanging on his next choices he took two steps forward and...
Aw crud, how do I fly with this thing again?
