//001 recon.
Who: Raiden and you!
When: Now
Where: Citro Plains
What: Raiden scouts out the unfamiliar territories, and finds a place of particular interest in Cosmos territory.
Type: Begins log style, but action tags are fine too.
Notes/Warnings: tl;dr introspection, unstable cyborgs, violence. 8)b
Gods. Magical crystals. Men back from the dead. This was all some weird dream, or like something out of a bad fantasy movie.
Raiden's hold on his own mind has always been tenuous at best. His nightmare childhood, the Big Shell, his torturous captivity... He'd learned to trust nothing, to take nothing for granted as truth. Maybe something in him had finally snapped, and everything here was, if not their doing, one elaborate hallucination. Gods don't exist, magic doesn't exist, and men back from the dead? Impossible. Solidus was right; Snakes had a habit of cheating death. Yet had died all those years ago in Manhattan, and was dead for good. Raiden knew that better than anyone.
The only thing he trusted were his own instincts. His own five senses. Not the lies and misinformation fed to him by other people. He wouldn't believe this place was reality unless he had solid, concrete proof, and so he set about exploring. The manikins were a hindrance, but still he had managed to reach Cosmos territory, thanks in part to just skipping the combat by slipping around his enemies and remaining unseen.
Eventually he found himself on vast plains, something he preferred much better than the enclosed, claustrophobic areas over on Chaos' side. Raiden was keenly intune with nature, so maybe he'd stay here a while, to think and clear his head.
The first order of business was to clear the area of these crystal constructs. Gripping his sword, he looked calmly across the plains to where a False Hero manikin was lying in wait.
Time to fight.
When: Now
Where: Citro Plains
What: Raiden scouts out the unfamiliar territories, and finds a place of particular interest in Cosmos territory.
Type: Begins log style, but action tags are fine too.
Notes/Warnings: tl;dr introspection, unstable cyborgs, violence. 8)b
Gods. Magical crystals. Men back from the dead. This was all some weird dream, or like something out of a bad fantasy movie.
Raiden's hold on his own mind has always been tenuous at best. His nightmare childhood, the Big Shell, his torturous captivity... He'd learned to trust nothing, to take nothing for granted as truth. Maybe something in him had finally snapped, and everything here was, if not their doing, one elaborate hallucination. Gods don't exist, magic doesn't exist, and men back from the dead? Impossible. Solidus was right; Snakes had a habit of cheating death. Yet had died all those years ago in Manhattan, and was dead for good. Raiden knew that better than anyone.
The only thing he trusted were his own instincts. His own five senses. Not the lies and misinformation fed to him by other people. He wouldn't believe this place was reality unless he had solid, concrete proof, and so he set about exploring. The manikins were a hindrance, but still he had managed to reach Cosmos territory, thanks in part to just skipping the combat by slipping around his enemies and remaining unseen.
Eventually he found himself on vast plains, something he preferred much better than the enclosed, claustrophobic areas over on Chaos' side. Raiden was keenly intune with nature, so maybe he'd stay here a while, to think and clear his head.
The first order of business was to clear the area of these crystal constructs. Gripping his sword, he looked calmly across the plains to where a False Hero manikin was lying in wait.
Time to fight.