MISSION: BAD COMPANY, PART 2

[ximilian]

● ● ● M I S S I O N   4 . 2

INTRO • THE DREAM DEFERRED • YOUR WAKE UP CALL • FYI

// INTRO. WELFORD BRANSON  

It is barely past twilight in Scorpion’s Bend, the twin suns having just set, taking their light with them — but the moons delay, and so darkness lingers over the town as Lan Xichen’s conversation with one Welford Branson comes to an abrupt end. At the same time, all around the town, the team will notice the town natives around them stilling — some freezing in the middle of a sentence, a man with a fork in the air, a woman mid-step on the street, some youngsters with their mouths open in laughter. All of them become statues in less than a heartbeat; still, eyes vacant, like everything that made them seem alive has been taken away.

And then — a reverberating sigh, echoing heavily in the ears of all the Orbers. What follows are words, spoken by a chorusing voice now familiar to most of the team —

“Well now you’ve done it.”

The orb’s echoing sound is filled with disappointment, even annoyance.

Some may see that amidst all the frozen townspeople, an old man runs, clawing at his thinning hair. Some of you may hear his words, muttered, desperate:

“I don't understand, I thought 'twas just a bad dream, everyone was fine, don't understand, what in the name of the Eight could've done somethin' like this —”

The disbelieving mumbles trail at his wake, making it clear he does not know what is going on at all — in fact, you may have a better idea as to what has happened than he does. But as you turn to follow him, open your mouth to yell at him to stop... everything around you shatters.

The lights in the buildings grow dim and break; the smell of food disappears; the horses in the stables simply fade away. You notice that if you were wearing or carrying something you bought while here, it too disappears, your clothes turning to those you had on upon arrival, all equipment shimmering away slowly.

But perhaps most importantly… the frozen statues of people crumble into ash right in front of you. It may fill the floors of the now-silent, dusty and worn-down houses, or it may blow away with the harsh desert wind — whichever it is, sans the team, the town of Scorpion’s Bend is now devoid of people.

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// PART I.THE DREAM DEFERRED  

The town that now surrounds the team is very different from the one it used to be — the houses are quiet, filled with sand and dust; doors broken, tables turned over, drawers open and mostly empty, aside from anything not valuable. The beds in Thornbush Inn are ragged, insects of various sizes skittering along the floors. The Saloon is dusty, furniture broken, and a lone piano stands in the corner, half its keys having crumbled away. The door to the Mayor’s office is ajar, a banging sound repeating as it hits the wall in time with the wind.

1.0   In the corners of the Sheriff’s office, the school and the church, the embera slither along, searching for food; owl-shrews hide from the Orbers on the streets, while feathered coyotes howl at the five moons now lending their light to see the town’s destruction better. The team may be the only living humanoids, but they are not the only living beings in the town anymore; in the absence of people, animals have made the town their home. And coexist they must, now, to survive the rapidly dropping temperature of the night that has fallen upon them.

2.0   The next morning, as the moons disappear underneath the horizon and let the two suns bring out their scorching rays once more, the team wakes up to the reality of having to survive Scorpion’s Bend… with very little supplies. So search the empty houses, for they still stand; the fire that has burned away the people has not touched the buildings… but they have not been immune to the passing of time, or the harsh weather in the desert. You may find clothing, basic equipment, pots and pans left on a now-cold stove; but no valuables, no money, no gems, no jewelry, no weapons.

But amidst your search through the town, remember that what you need, first and foremost, is to find water and something to eat — it will not be long until the suns are high in the sky, and some of you are already in desperate need of proper nourishment, without being left to endure the scorching temperatures the days on the planet of Badrock bring.

3.0   But should you want to brave the heat, you’ll find it is now possible to leave the town and venture out into the desert. Out there, the rock dragons search for prey, while bald vultures circle above your head in groups of three or four, their shrieks growing in volume the farther you walk. If you show weakness, any weakness, they strike — and the dragons, sensing their chance, are not far behind.

And when you least expect it, the ground underneath you trembles, like a small earthquake is approaching you… and then you see it: from the sand, a whale surges up, then another, and another, arcing through the air like suspended there, before the sand swallows them once more. Should you get too close, you too may be swallowed underneath the sand; unless you’re very, very careful, or have in your arsenal something else that may help you to deal with these near-immortal giants that have swam across the deserts for hundreds of thousands of years.

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// PART II.YOUR WAKE UP CALL  

Time passes at a snail’s pace without the comforts of the town you were used to. Scorpion’s Bend is now a wasteland you must survive, and it clearly isn’t easy. Some of you might question whether retrieving the orb is still an endeavour worth pursuing after all of this, but the rest of you know that it is. That you’ve come this far and you’re nearly there; you just need to band together and form a gameplan.

As the suns begin to set over the horizon on yet another grueling day of scorching heat and rough, dry sand in the ghost town of Scorpion’s Bend, you might begin to hear a distant thunder that has nothing to do with an oncoming desert storm or otherwise. It rattles at the already weakened structures of the old Saloon and the General Store, bits of broken glass and debris vibrating with the raucous sound of clattering hooves, feet, and paws. And as the sound of the invasion grows louder – you’ll hear the unmistakable manic howling and bellowing in accompaniment: these are the Bouldersnakes that some of you have already heard much of.

4.0   The Bouldersnakes are not a group to be taken lightly, and have garnered the fearsome reputation that they now hold for a reason. Kicking up dust, they arrive like a cloud of chaos in different sizes, shapes, and forms. Some have the ability to shrink and grow in size to match their opponents in physical size and weight. Other Bouldersnakes are agile and quick; and others yet are superhumanly strong and robust – either way, they make for formidable opponents when you, yourself, have been weakened from weeks of a lack of proper nutrition and sleep. The individual members of the Bouldersnakes are like a band of bloodthirsty brothers: from all walks of life and all colours and creeds, with a severe and mean streak to them, who will stop at nothing to achieve their goals.

What goals, you ask? Should you listen carefully, their leader, riding a winged lizard-like creature, shouts to their underlings:

“Find it! This is where it told us to come to. We missed it last time, but no more! I don't care what we have to do, we're getting our hands on that thing!”

As it so happens, you are not the only crew in search of that elusive orb; the Bouldersnakes have been tracking down the whereabouts of this mysterious and all-powerful object themselves, burning through towns – quite literally – to get it. News that Scorpion’s Bend has seen a resurgence of life and might still be the resting place of the orb has the bandits seeking out the town again. Their first round through Scorpion's Bend about a year ago had them coming up empty-handed (save for a few bits and baubles), but this time they are determined to find what they've come here to find. Though if there’s anything left here to salvage... they’ll ransack as they please.

Whether you confront them head-on or they catch you in hiding, they won’t easily back down from a fight. It will be best to keep your distance if you can manage it, and hope that they’ll pass you by. But the Bouldersnakes have their weaknesses too: once maimed, they still bleed, and none of them are immortal, though they are notoriously difficult to kill based on their talents alone... and when they carry weapons, too, well — those not accustomed to battles may find it best to hide. And even for those with fighting experience under your belt, teaming up with your fellow Orbers and combining your shared skills will be your best chance at survival.

5.0   By the time the suns have disappeared and the moons have risen, the Bouldersnakes invasion will make the bandit attack from the other night seem like a childish tussle. The Bouldersnakes don’t play nice and have adapted to the harsh lands as ruthless survivors. They arrive like a wave, many equipped with weapons: guns, sabers, pistols and small knives. A few others have engineered their own specially crafted weapons made of metal and magic (in the shape of guns, blow-torches, and blades) that wield a special element harnessed from mined ore called ‘pulsefire’. It is this pulsefire, glowing a deep blue (like the hottest colour of flame), that has the capability to destroy all living beings and allows the bandits to systematically ravage unsuspecting towns down to ash, reap its benefits (either for the town’s riches and wealth, or and especially: for any supply of ore), and then leave without a trace.

The best way to fight against pulsefire is to acquire weapons of pulsefire of your own and best a Bouldersnake before they best you. (Think high stakes, noon-time duels of the pistol.) Of course, this is a very risky and very dangerous affair as one shot by pulsefire could mean your untimely demise and the element itself isn't easy to put out either, so it might be best to work in teams to strategically disarm and swipe a pulsefire weapon to use before they manage to overwhelm you.

NOTE:   If your character is alive, your character will be vulnerable to the effects of pulsefire. Unliving things such as buildings and infrastructure will not be affected. Pulsefire has a slow spread-rate over unliving things, but its effects on the living are instant. Once in contact with the element, pulsefire quickly consumes the living body and spirit until it is turned to ash. Putting pulsefire out over unliving things is relatively easy, but once pulsefire has touched the living, there's little to no chance of making it out in one piece.

All through this, you must still remember your goal — it is not to stay in Scorpion's Bend, or even fight the Bouldersnakes, but to find the orb... and that means finding Welford Branson. How will you convince him to give you the orb, when all signs point to him not even knowing what it is, or what it has done? That is what you must decide... if you survive the Bouldersnakes in one piece, of course.

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F Y I

• The events in this log take place ICly right after the end of the NPC thread.

• The voting for how to get the orb is now open! Please head HERE to submit your idea for how the team should proceed to get the orb, or +1 others’ ideas.

• The conclusion of the mission and the return to the station will be posted on February 13.

• If you have questions about anything in this log, please direct them HERE.

• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪

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Comments

[construing]

[ a little too mindful of the fact that if that blade just touches her it will be curtains for her, venom, and probably the guy on her back, gwen has no questions to spare to the new voice speaking directly in her head. as soon as the blade is caught, gwen fires another web-line. the bandit dodges as she expected; the line grabs a pipe, and she rips it toward them.

three on one: the telepathic hold slows him just long enough; the pipe flying at his head sure to hurt is enough distraction; and gwen immediately aims her web-shooters at his feet. he lunges at her, trips. gwen scrambles out of range of the blade.

she fires another web-line, this time catching an old curtain. she throws it over him, and keeps throwing anything she can find: a torn wagon cover, an old dress, a ratty flag. she glues each layer down with her web-lines. by the time she's done, the bandit looks like the world's angriest anthropomorphized gazelle now wrapped in a thick cocoon. only his head and the arm with the sword stick out. one last web-shot knocks the blade away. it skitters across the sand with little bursts of blue fire. ]

Glad you skipped out on strength when you were collecting speed and agility, [ she comments.

the response she gets has her immediately webbing his mouth shut. ]

Wow. You kiss your fucking mother with that mouth? Unbelievable.

[firstroar]

[things would be far more disorienting here if Gwen weren't exuding a sense of confidence in her own movements and intentions, because the speed at which she does what she does is dizzying. as it stands, Blue can borrow glimpses of her sight to slow blades or catch bullets, but making more offensive moves are riskier and taxing to his limited strength.

that said, while she's sassing back with their attacker, Blue is able to glean notion of--]

Others are coming.

[they're still a ways off from triggering her own danger sense, but their approach, drawn by the noise of the stone hitting the roof, is clear to him.]

[construing]

[ at the warning, her eyes snap to their surroundings. ] Ten-four. You got him?

[ the question she puts to venom who responds in the affirmative. venom does not communicate in words or even thoughts as she perceives them; rather, it speaks in sensation, in intent, in feeling. almost two years together means gwen can interpret with the best of them.

she hikes blue’s body higher up her back, mindful of her strength and his state. the symbiote maintains a safe hold on him. it isn't a fan of having another speaking directly to its host, but greater than the symbiote’s wariness is its respect for gwen's desire to protect.

the pulsefire weapons are too dangerous to leave behind, and the hair on her arms stands up just from handling it. gwen quickly webs the blades. it burns only the living so, hopefully, this will make them a little safer carry around. their pursuer she hangs in one of the houses from the ceiling like the world's angriest silk cocoon. he deserves to have his nose sunburned, but sense wins over over pettiness.

though she works fast, by the time she is finished, a vibration thrums through her awareness. not the loud alarm of immediate danger, but spider-sense has finally caught onto the approaching threat. she ducks into a different house, hoping to avoid being spotted. she carefully climbs out a window, clinging to the wall beside it.

the next building over looks like a shed of some sort. behind it are more houses, closer together. they could give them plenty of places to slink past unnoticed. but from here to the shed is a stretch of barren earth with barely a shrub. if she runs, they'll be spotted.

gwen chews the inside of her cheek. ]

Any suggestions?

[firstroar]

[there's no answer right away; Blue is taking in the sights and information Gwen's eyes see, easily coming to the same conclusion about where a clean sprint would lead.]

If you can...safely get eyes on them... I can move something near them...draw attention.

[but he can't just blindly send his psionic feelers out; inanimate things are hard to interact with without the aid of sight.]

[construing]

[ for a moment, she worried he was truly unconscious or something worse. when he speaks, she lets out the breath she had been holding. whatever is happening with him, being out under the double suns, getting chased by these assholes cannot be helping. ]

That I can do.

[ gwen climbs up the wall to the roof, the pads of her fingers clinging to the wood with ease. before she eases her head up, she takes another breath.

like last time, she thinks, her memory bringing up images of metal walls, guards. predator mode.

the hand on the wall turns black, then the very color and grain of the wood beneath it. a quick look down shows her entire body underwent the change. if not for blue strapped to her back, she would be wholly invisible. but she isn't going to shove her entire body over.

gwen slowly eases her head up to look at the bandits milling beneath. at first count, she sees four. looks like they haven't yet found their friend. not awful odds were she alone, but she's not, and putting the nice voice in her head at risk is a no-go. ]

[firstroar]

[Blue takes another glimpse through Gwen's eyes, trying to reconcile and move past the unnerving feelings that the symbiote stirs in him. for now...

after a moment of searching:] The porch...focus your attention on that. Just a moment.

When it goes down...you can make your break.

[but he needs to get it to go down first, and that'll take some doing. Blue winces, letting out a strained sound as he reaches out with his mind, forcing himself to visualize grabbing at one of the supporting beams on that rickety porch.

...not rickety enough. he exhales, then draws in another bracing breath and conjures a psionic bullet that pierces through the beam, cracking it and sending part of the awning it was holding up down. it's sudden and impossible not to focus on - and that's just what those bandits do.]

[construing]

[ as soon as the beam snaps, gwen drops. she lands on her feet, the momentum propelling her forward. visible again, she sprints for the shed. using a web-line, she slingshots around it, almost flying toward the next house. she doesn't slow down through it or the next, zipping around broken bits of furniture and over toppled fixtures with a dizzying speed testament to her limited precognitive abilities and her quicker reflexes.

at the third, gwen finally comes to a stop. she cannot hear sounds of pursuit and spider-sense is quiet. more pressing, this is the most exercise she's had yet, and despite having had her own rations these past weeks, she has to eat for two. ]

I think we're good here for a minute.

[ maybe plot out their next moves. from her satchel, she removes half an energy bar still in its wrapper. gwen snaps off a piece for herself, and waves the other near blue's head. ]

Want some? I think I've got some water left too. I just need, like, thirty seconds to recharge and I can keep going.

[firstroar]

Nh...

[food? after all that? the speed is dizzying, if only because Blue has no control or say in it at all, being the glorified psychic backpack that he's become. once they stop, there's a chance for Blue's poor stomach to catch up, but the offering of food does little to make it an easy return.]

N...no, thank you. Please...can I be released...? [this is uncomfortable, but he's a bit too polite and considerate of the help to complain plainly.]

[construing]

Yep! Sorry!

[ gwen crouches. venom lets go of blue, and she can ease him onto the floor. this part is a little out of her field of expertise, and she hovers anxiously. ]

If you want to be sitting, I'll prop you up. Are you hurt anywhere?

[firstroar]

[he accepts the help in sitting up, shuddering a little after-the-fact from that venom...stuff.]

No...no injury... [not that he's aware of, but then, he's likely to bruise somehow from all the jostling just because his body likes to spite him. he swallows and exhales against a raspy throat.]

Mmh... Water...may be good, actually... Thank you.

[construing]

You got it.

[ gwen swaps the energy bar for a plastic water bottle, which she holds to his lips. her mask had since opened to reveal her face. only little black threads linger across her cheeks and brow, weaving delicately over her skin despite the lack of breeze. ]

You know, [ she says after a moment, aiming for levity, ] I just carried you across several thresholds and I still don't know your name.

[firstroar]

[Blue takes a few small but greedy sips, brow knitting in a wince against the sting of his throat. it feels a little better after-the-fact, at least.

his eyebrows lift at her remark while he's in the midst of wiping the corner of his mouth.]

I don't...know yours, either. [so they're even. but:] I'm called Blue.

[construing]

Gwen. [ technically spider-woman when she’s wearing the suit, but not really the time for technicalities.

she points to her head. ]

Don’t mind Venom. It’s a little miffed because it has never had to share my headspace before. You’re still my favorite, bud, [ she reassures the symbiote.

venom thrums in pleasure. the black threads around her face curl against her skin like a possessive, but weirdly endearing pet. ]

[firstroar]

[just the name alone is concerning enough, but the little reverberations Blue can glean of it, reminding him of that presence, makes him shudder a little. he hugs his arms to himself.]

I've never sensed...something like that before. [it's definitely not human.]

[construing]

Be surprised if you did, [ gwen says kindly. ] Lab experiment alien goos aren’t real common, and if they are, they shouldn’t be.

[ it took a long time to make her peace with venom, and then it was more making peace with the complex gnarl of her own emotions upon being forced to be the symbiote’s host. that its creators wanted her to fall, fail, die… the symbiote is blameless. another pawn in a game rigged against them both. no one expected them to find a balance. no one believed symbiote and host could make peace.

gwen eyes blue carefully. he looks…better, here meaning he no longer looks on death’s doorstep. now he might just be on death’s block. then again, who isn’t. she has basically set up a tent across the street from death and waves to him every morning when he goes to get the mail. ]

If you want more water, there’s still some. Or if you need a couple more minutes. I think, [ she pauses as a spray of gunfire in the distance interrupts her, ] we can spare them.

[firstroar]

[lab...experiment... that doesn't sound great to hear, no matter how nonchalant it's delivered. but Gwen is the expert on her matters for now; he cannot pass judgment this way or that, now can he?

for the matter of their time, punctuated quite sarcastically by the gunfire, Blue shakes his head.] The quicker...you can get rid of me, the better. And I only mean...because I am not able to move well myself. So it's better if I am somewhere out of sight, to free you up.

[construing]

Got anyone I can drop you off with? [ on the shortlist of people she would trust— ] Dr. McCoy, maybe?

[firstroar]

[good question. Blue's gaze drops, heavy-lidded. faintly, he glows for a moment.]

No, he...he isn't near...

[after a beat, he lifts his head, the glow fading.] But Peter...Peter Quill? I can feel his presence not far. [he turns his gaze, nodding in the direction.] That way.

[construing]

[ peter. another name on the shortlist. gwen nods. venom covers her face once more in a white mask; the pink lenses narrow when gwen's eyes do. ]

Let's get moving. Want me to carry you on my shoulders or my back?

[ bridal style also a possibility, though he may get jostled more than usual. ]

[firstroar]

[were Blue to be entirely honest, he does not want to be glued on her back with that...Venom-creature... but he can't make these calls on behalf of Gwen's stamina.]

Please...however is easiest for you...is the right answer. I will not complain.

[construing]

[ gwen laughs, not unkindly. ]

I’m from New York. Complaining is a love language. If you’re uncomfortable, please complain; I’ll only be offended if you don’t tell me.

[ she bends down, her back to blue so he can grab her around the shoulders. she picks him up piggyback. if they run into an emergency, she can shift him up to a fireman’s carry or have venom lend a hand (or a tentacle) again. but she is tentatively hopeful that they can avoid being noticed this time.

stepping up to the door, gwen eases it open with her foot. ]

Let Peter know we’re on our way. [ —and off they go. ]