Vuko:
From behind the green, lit by the vermilion, adrift in the tide, he came
A mare - nay, a specter, denying being torn out of this reality
With each stride anchoring itself deeper and deeper
Material only once in the nocturnal gown
As Vuko, clad in a torn, dark cloak, approached, Disruptis could feel it. Like the smell of ozone before a storm. The unbridled rage, thirst for vengeance, for mindless slaughter, emanating from him.
He didn’t say a word. All that needed to be spoken, already has been.
He just stood there, awaiting as the desert breeze played with his mantle, revealing the outcome of horrors past.
A tug on the leg - revealing one limb is different than the other, more... crude, mechanical, fake
A sway to the side - showing the elongated visor, armored breastplate, and battacor held in his clutch
A push at the back - exposing a rigid posture, a zylok on the holster, and a scindo axe hidden underneath the cloak
Disruptis was not one to be surprised at such a sight. After all, he was his captor, savior and editor.
Others, not so much.
Seeing Vuko’s Ivara mended, altered and redone, could even come as shocking. The new look reminded almost nothing of the old, golden and proud Orokin style. It brings to mind a soldier, a mercenary, a hunter. A merger of Tenno and Corpus technology intertwined to result in something completely new and unique.
(edited)