[Bomberman barely registers Sirius' words as he settles on his plan of action. He reaches down to pull the manual lever on the door, and then, as the door slides open, he grabs onto the doorframe and swings his body into the room in a graceful arc. Out of curiosity, he quickly checks the inner doorframe; there's another manual lever to close the door again, which he engages. The metal thud of the door panel slotting back into place is morbidly reassuring to him. (Sometimes it's the simple illusions of control in life that help.)
Faced with this new area to investigate, he switches his suit camera back on to perform an initial sweep of his surroundings. It looks like another laboratory, with devices and machines of various configurations outnumbering standard computers. Based on the large crates of dark rocks lined up against a far wall, and combined with the knowledge that the large door in the corner currently making Extremely Concerning noises leads to an elevator full of rocks, he's guessing that this is where this station processes its umbriolite. Taken as a whole, it's quite a lot of material for a mineral with a notably low retrieval rate of 37 percent. But the discovery doesn't surprise Bomberman — the documents he'd found had mentioned attempts to synthesize such a rare and difficult-to-procure mineral. (So then: creating and processing umbriolite. Busybodies here, indeed.)
Also not surprising are the sigils Bomberman can see painted on and around the elevator doors, pulsing faintly red as the thing throws itself against the metal with high-pitched screeching that somehow simultaneously seems to hit like bass within his body. His first thought is that no one can possibly complain about how unreadable his handwriting is in comparison to this mess of occult graffiti. His second thought is wondering how long the door is going to hold. It at least looks solid and undamaged, which feels like a lie but it's a lie Bomberman is going to take for the moment. He said he'd handle this thing, sure, but he's in no hurry to handle it anytime soon.
There's another furious screech-thud against the door, and he mutters:]
Quiet down, I need to work here —
[Which is of course when the crimson glow of the sigils putters out, ending — strangely — with a discordant tone ringing in his head.
A large perforated dent blooms from the center of the elevator doors. The perforations sport multiple white dots against the darker metal that soon show themselves to be several circular rows of curved teeth. After a moment, the teeth fully penetrate to their full length, gnawing at the metal.
"Sounds like you got it excited," comes Sirius' voice over the comms, and Bomberman is about to hit back with a retort when it's followed by: "Look out."
The apparent warning comes a little late, as the thing has already managed to wriggle free from its improvised prison. It screams straight for Bomberman with the jagged alloy disc still clenched between its teeth. He snaps his right hand forward to slam a bomb into the metal just as it comes within arm's length.
Instead of exploding in fire, however, or in any other elemental power, the bomb explodes into a shimmering barrier of chi — a bomb shield that sends the thing ricocheting back where it came from. Unfortunately, physics dictates that this also sends Bomberman in the opposite direction with an equal amount of force. Since he's still near the door, and the door is closed, this means he gets flung back-first into it. Very hard.
WHUMP!
Okay. Oof. Hang on, time out, has anyone seen the breath that just got knocked out of him — ]
no subject
Faced with this new area to investigate, he switches his suit camera back on to perform an initial sweep of his surroundings. It looks like another laboratory, with devices and machines of various configurations outnumbering standard computers. Based on the large crates of dark rocks lined up against a far wall, and combined with the knowledge that the large door in the corner currently making Extremely Concerning noises leads to an elevator full of rocks, he's guessing that this is where this station processes its umbriolite. Taken as a whole, it's quite a lot of material for a mineral with a notably low retrieval rate of 37 percent. But the discovery doesn't surprise Bomberman — the documents he'd found had mentioned attempts to synthesize such a rare and difficult-to-procure mineral. (So then: creating and processing umbriolite. Busybodies here, indeed.)
Also not surprising are the sigils Bomberman can see painted on and around the elevator doors, pulsing faintly red as the thing throws itself against the metal with high-pitched screeching that somehow simultaneously seems to hit like bass within his body. His first thought is that no one can possibly complain about how unreadable his handwriting is in comparison to this mess of occult graffiti. His second thought is wondering how long the door is going to hold. It at least looks solid and undamaged, which feels like a lie but it's a lie Bomberman is going to take for the moment. He said he'd handle this thing, sure, but he's in no hurry to handle it anytime soon.
There's another furious screech-thud against the door, and he mutters:]
Quiet down, I need to work here —
[Which is of course when the crimson glow of the sigils putters out, ending — strangely — with a discordant tone ringing in his head.
A large perforated dent blooms from the center of the elevator doors. The perforations sport multiple white dots against the darker metal that soon show themselves to be several circular rows of curved teeth. After a moment, the teeth fully penetrate to their full length, gnawing at the metal.
"Sounds like you got it excited," comes Sirius' voice over the comms, and Bomberman is about to hit back with a retort when it's followed by: "Look out."
The apparent warning comes a little late, as the thing has already managed to wriggle free from its improvised prison. It screams straight for Bomberman with the jagged alloy disc still clenched between its teeth. He snaps his right hand forward to slam a bomb into the metal just as it comes within arm's length.
Instead of exploding in fire, however, or in any other elemental power, the bomb explodes into a shimmering barrier of chi — a bomb shield that sends the thing ricocheting back where it came from. Unfortunately, physics dictates that this also sends Bomberman in the opposite direction with an equal amount of force. Since he's still near the door, and the door is closed, this means he gets flung back-first into it. Very hard.
WHUMP!
Okay. Oof. Hang on, time out, has anyone seen the breath that just got knocked out of him — ]