Inspection of Platform [9/29] Transceiver [BD]

[23:53] It's to the Accursed's benefit that no one uses this back store rooms where the transceiver pad is held. Gehenna's paltry, unimpressive supplies are here, but they are not what she's after.

The spireshard powered platform rests in the corner of the room, practically collecting dust.

All the technology, the power of an empire before them, wasting away here in some dark pantry. It's enough to make her blood boil. As if the rest of this place didn't do the trick.

The things they'd done to her, denying her the fruits of her labor, casting her aside.

It will all come to plan. They will regret having forgotten her. In time she will bring this entire city to its knees, whether they know it was her hand or not.

Ardith has her tools, and as she crouches beside the pad she unfurls the case of them. All the implements to bring about the destruction of this place and its pitiful human populace. So unworthy...
(Ardith Illarian)
[00:00] Here in this place she works alone. Alone with her tools, with her notes, with her thoughts.

That last one is most dangerous of all. All her spite and wrath to this place is what ultimately fuels her actions. Otherwise instruments would be idle, idle and dusty like the rest of this place.

While she works she cackles to herself maddeningly. Visions of the future, of her design flit in and out of her thoughts. This is her way of clearing scum from the pond and clearing moss from the unmoving stones.

Alone...all of it done alone.

It's this place's fault she's alone. How much did she offer them time and time again? The fruits of her labor, with only mild compensation, all the knowledge she'd so painstakingly accrued.

She begins dismantling the projection platform in earnest to study its innards, like a doctor dissects a cadaver. The Accursed alternates mercurially between wracking sobs and thread, high pitched laughter.

Fresh notes on the study of not just this piece of Agarthan technology, but this one, Gehenna's in particular. Ardith must know its inner workings just as she knows her newfound enemy.
(Ardith Illarian)
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[00:09] The carapace of the projection platform is opened up. Its guts, is soul, are bare for Ardith to inspect. With no signals running across the network all the lights and circuits are still.

Her fingertips trace the wires, taking careful note of their placement, how they are routed to the power of the precious spireshard at the construct's epicenter.

She doesn't speak aloud, she doesn't break the silence with her voice. It's only disturbed by the clicking of tools and her heavy breathing as she parses the bundles of filaments and connectors. In her mind she assures this wonder of technology and the shard both will have new purpose.

Just like her, they will no longer have to tolerate sitting to gather dust. They will have their own purpose free of the machinations of others.

And how grand it will be.

She takes the gift from her Pact Lord Illaron, the transceiver she'd kept hidden from prying eyes nomatter how tempting it was to use it, and held it in her hand.

Though she doesn't transmit thoughts into it, as it's for, she transmits empty signals across the network. With each pulse she watches the circuits of the projection platform come to life.

It makes it all the easier to watch the traveling route of power, to look for flaws and weaknesses. And, more importantly, to find how to overload the power-source that kept it running.

With all the lights aglow, illuminating her face and casting strange shadows, she sees just where she needs to dam the power to fulfill her greatest wish.
(Ardith Illarian)
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