Post by Krost Cabur on Jan 1, 2024 16:20:36 GMT
Krost had just stepped off of a transport that had taken him from the space port. His eyes squinted as he felt the light of the sky disappear while the transport descended into the hive to a landing pad. See, the man was on a short leave after he arrived at Cornithe and was stationed with elements of the 13th Siege Regiment at the Kavala hive. All of his belongings were being transported separately to his unit since he couldn’t bring much of it on this more public use of transportation. It was also worth mentioning that he was still in his Krieg uniform, however minus all of the tactical equipment and weaponry. Save for a small knife in his pocket should he have to use it for some reason. As he stepped off the transport he glanced around and spotted a small market off in the distance. It could be nice to stop by and buy some things before he went to his unit, besides, he didn’t have to report to the unit for hours and he had done everything else asked of him so he was still on leave until he had to report to the company.
He walked around aimlessly for a few moments as he took in the sights, the uniform he wore as well as the gas mask on his face drew the attention of a few people but nothing really worth coming over and bothering him for. He stood a little over six feet tall with a muscled build, holding a decent size difference between most humans but not by a whole lot. Again, as he walked he picked up the eyes of a few people walking by but nothing worth stopping for, he continued to walk towards the market he had spotted earlier and thought it best if he spent some of the credits he’d saved up over the years on a bit of local merchandise. Besides, he never really needed to spend any sort of currency on anything as his every need was satisfied by the Guard.
A faint groan came from the man’s mask as he drifted about this small market, observing merchandise and food being sold.
“Hmm…”
His eyes landed on some local clothing, looking over it but having no intent to buy it at all. He wasn’t even allowed to own such attire so there was no point in expressing any interest in buying it, what he was wearing at the time was all he got. It was also at that moment that he heard something strange, like a familiar voice shouting from off in the distance. His head quickly turned to look in the direction he heard the noise but he saw nothing, no one there had matched the voice he heard and so recognized. Strange. He knew whose voice that was but at the same time couldn’t match up in his mind who it really was as who that person might’ve been. The man stood there staring off in the direction he’d turned his head, his mask lifelessly staring off like a statue. What was wrong with him?
He couldn’t snap out of this gaze and couldn’t shake the thought of that voice out of his head, maybe he had lost his mind after his last battle. The Quartermaster had told him he’d sustained a head injury but had told him it was nothing to worry about, but where was this voice coming from? Why couldn’t he remember? It felt as it he’d let an important detail in his life just slip away from him and now he was just left helplessly driving in space. Without outside intervention he would simply just stare off into the crowds of people that walked by in the market, the tall masked man still standing by the merchant who was selling clothing. Would someone come and help this man?
He walked around aimlessly for a few moments as he took in the sights, the uniform he wore as well as the gas mask on his face drew the attention of a few people but nothing really worth coming over and bothering him for. He stood a little over six feet tall with a muscled build, holding a decent size difference between most humans but not by a whole lot. Again, as he walked he picked up the eyes of a few people walking by but nothing worth stopping for, he continued to walk towards the market he had spotted earlier and thought it best if he spent some of the credits he’d saved up over the years on a bit of local merchandise. Besides, he never really needed to spend any sort of currency on anything as his every need was satisfied by the Guard.
A faint groan came from the man’s mask as he drifted about this small market, observing merchandise and food being sold.
“Hmm…”
His eyes landed on some local clothing, looking over it but having no intent to buy it at all. He wasn’t even allowed to own such attire so there was no point in expressing any interest in buying it, what he was wearing at the time was all he got. It was also at that moment that he heard something strange, like a familiar voice shouting from off in the distance. His head quickly turned to look in the direction he heard the noise but he saw nothing, no one there had matched the voice he heard and so recognized. Strange. He knew whose voice that was but at the same time couldn’t match up in his mind who it really was as who that person might’ve been. The man stood there staring off in the direction he’d turned his head, his mask lifelessly staring off like a statue. What was wrong with him?
He couldn’t snap out of this gaze and couldn’t shake the thought of that voice out of his head, maybe he had lost his mind after his last battle. The Quartermaster had told him he’d sustained a head injury but had told him it was nothing to worry about, but where was this voice coming from? Why couldn’t he remember? It felt as it he’d let an important detail in his life just slip away from him and now he was just left helplessly driving in space. Without outside intervention he would simply just stare off into the crowds of people that walked by in the market, the tall masked man still standing by the merchant who was selling clothing. Would someone come and help this man?
