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ximilialog2022-02-02 06:57 pm
- ! event log,
- ! open,
- altered carbon: takeshi kovacs,
- critical role: percy de rolo,
- doctor who: clara oswald,
- doctor who: river song,
- doctor who: the doctor (11),
- fear street: ziggy berman,
- grishaverse: alina starkov,
- grishaverse: the darkling,
- gundam seed/destiny: yzak jule,
- knives out: marta cabrera,
- marvel comics: gwen stacy,
- mass effect: kaidan alenko,
- mcu: daisy johnson,
- mcu: shang-chi,
- pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- pacific rim: raleigh becket,
- star trek aos: james t. kirk,
- star trek aos: leonard mccoy,
- star wars: finn,
- star wars: luke skywalker,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- the 100: clarke griffin,
- the old guard: andromache,
- towards the terra: soldier blue,
- transformers: drift,
- transformers: megatron,
- twisted wonderland: deuce spade,
- yakuza 0: goro majima,
- yakuza: zhao tianyou
MISSION: BAD COMPANY, PART 2
● ● ● M I S S I O N 4 . 2
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 —
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:
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.
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.
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:
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.
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.
F Y I
• 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: ♪ ♪ ♪
no subject
[As if that explains why he's stalking across town, shadows trailing in their wake to cover their tracks as he seeks shelter. For her.
Somewhere safer than his bloodied arms to place in her, far from the explosions of the strange weapons and the laughing men that seem determined to tear this town apart to find- the orb.
He'd found one weak enough, frail enough, to spill it all. Hidden away from the fights and the screams covered by smothering shadows, he'd made the man tell him the truth. That the orb had called for the Bouldersnakes. That it was behind this, all of this. The disruption of his nights and mornings-
Alina, alive and breathing, cradled as she is against his sticky chest and his hand curve around her shoulder to grip the knob of bone. To feel her, more real and warmer, than the gore that paints him from top to bottom.]
I promise. I will go back, I will help. But you need to be safe.
[He doesn't examine why, this urge to steal her away and keep her. This itching annoyance at having the night split with screams and gun shots when he could be - when he should be occupied with something else. The inkling of what once have been fear, tickles down his spine as the pulsefire rips through the barrier he erected behind them and the voices are much closer.]
You have my word.
no subject
the problem with wanting is that it makes us weak. the truth of that warning pounds through her, exists in the fragile hope that expands in her chest. aleksander's words carry as much weight as air, and as much certainty as knowing when and where the current will shift — but she wants, so devastatingly, to believe it isn't another sweet-spoken lie. it almost leaves her resolve in ruins, destroying the well-earned doubt she's clung to, to avoid ever again accepting his word as gospel.
perhaps she can set it aside, this once. a heavy breath gusts out of her, unburdening herself — of her reluctance, of responsibility. ]
Okay, [ she says, like hearing her agreement spoken aloud will convince her it's the right choice; then again, what choice does she have at all? leave and endanger their group. stay and endanger countless lives. she can't be the catalyst for yet another town being laid to waste in a scourge of death. ] Okay.
[ — not that there's much allotted time to debate it. his barrier seems to ripple in response to the wound pulsefire has inflicted, ripping an entrance through its structure. her heart leaps into her mouth, a cold shock of fear skittering along her spine as the bandits filter through. their silhouettes are little more than a blip in the darkness, but the crunch of footsteps in the near distance —
it's enough of a warning that they've come too close to finding them. alina's lungs seize around a breath she doesn't take, holding it in her throat. in a quiet whisper she aims near aleksander's ear, an unmarked piece of skin that seems to miraculously escaped bloodstains for now: ] What if there isn't a place that's safe?
no subject
The heat of her stolen Small Science had crackled across his skin, had stolen his breath away with its beauty and its potential. She would always be his, the slaughter of the stag and the ritual in his tent had guaranteed it.
And she still ran.
Just he sees, superimposed and flickering, an image of her spread out on his bed roll with her hair fanning out like a halo around her flushed face, the small smile she seems to only direct at him after sex, the gentleness of her touch in the moments after. The soft warmness of her embrace, of her hand in his in sleep, the pitter-patter of his own idiotic heartbeat against her back. Before they both remember who and what they are, and he always sees that, looking at her. But there will always be a second image, the golden lights of oil lamps and her face twisted up in pain and fury, the skin around her collarbones splitting and angry-red around the protrusions. Her defiance still proudly on display and spitting from her eyes.
Looking down at her in his arms, the frantic flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat that he can barely make out in the dark, he doesn't know which image he wants more.
Just knows that he wants her, in all ways.]
Then I will make you one.
[Dark eyes blazing with his promise, with the weight of all of his years and his experience with war. With murder and the cruelty of men, as he stops.]
Run, Alina. Hide.
[The place without bandits, as he sets her down gently, hand lingering against her back and shivers rushing down his spine from the breath she blew against his skin.]
Run to the mines if you have to.
[Turning, back to Alina, and his arms outstretched as the shadows stops swirling like mist around them and instead rushes in, a tidal wave of darkness barreling through the night to heed his calling and the Darkling slams his hands together, the thunder of his Small Science rolls around the cloudless sky as the Cut flies through the air. It might not cut through every bandit, but... well, no one could run without legs.
They come out of the darkness, knives and guns blazing, the eerie light of the pulse fire flashing through the shadows that he bathes them in and a bullet zaps past his shoulder to explode against the desert sand.]
Run!
no subject
her eyes lock onto the rising tide of darkness, a swell of shadows surfacing around his silhouette. the skies above deepen to tar, a stormcloud of rolling fury. for a paralyzed moment, alina is trapped within that pooling ink of power, floating back to a different world. a different memory. the shrill cries of families fleeing in vain. the ear-splitting answer of volcra descending like vultures careening toward a fresh carcass. novokribirsk, drowned beneath a blackened sea.
his bellowing order slices through her recollection, slicing her free from that relived nightmare. a gasp sears in her lungs, grabbing greedily for lungfuls of air, like a woman pulled back from the brink of death. like her heart has restarted in her chest, pounding to announce you're alive, you're alive. a reassurance. a warning. blindly, she fumbles for his sleeve, flinching as a man is halved like butchered meat.
pitched high with distress: ] Aleksander —
[ stop, she wants to shout, distraught at more merciless bloodshed in her name. stop this. the atmosphere turns too thick, obscuring her vision. her fingertips only graze empty air, curling around nothingness. she stumbles forward, determined —
and immediately flinches back into the pouring fog that seems to divide them as a bullet whizzes past her. a shriek dies in her throat, choking out of her in a yelp. run. hide. that's all she's ever done. sometimes, it feels like all she'll ever do. still, the next explosion that lands at her feet sends her stuttering back, wincing as she darts toward the townline. the shooting pain in her ankle protests, wobbling dangerously until she's hobbling, spilling down into the muck of scorpion's bend.
her hands sink into the sandy terrain, dragging herself to the safety of the town's perimeter on skidding knees, ignoring the stones that slice against her grimy palms. ]