caveofsapphires | smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

WHO: EVERYONE. All PCs thus far will be in this log, through active tagging or implication.
WHAT: THRILLS. SPILLS. Hiking trip toward the Diamond City.
WHERE: The Overworld.
WHEN: Forward-dated to May 1st (Tuesday) through May 7th (Monday).
WARNINGS: May contain violence or other mentions of physical harm. This is not summer camp.
NOTES: More information can be found on the OOC post here. Please read it!

Gathered in the morning haze, Sleepers were brought to the mouth of the Cave with plenty of supplies and equipment. Compasses that would point them toward the City. Backpacks full of clothes and food, medical kits, tents and even weapons. Stun rifles and knives — to fight off any unwanted company, they said. ("Watch out for their bite," Ryan had commented. "Those fuckers are downright feral.") The straight and narrow path would get them there in six days if they kept a good clip. They were sent off just like that. Refusals to leave were met with a wall of guard force officers blocking the entrance back into the cave city. No way to go but forward, unless someone was particularly stalwart about remaining.

From the exterminator's station near the mouth, leaving the Cave was as simple as a short hike upward into the fresh air of the Overworld. Dust and an uncomfortable sort of heat pervaded the atmosphere, light winds stirring up the sand and teasing the meager bits of vegetation that had grown. No matter what direction you looked... it was all wasteland, cracked ground and desolate emptiness. Jutting up from scarred ground were boulders and small spires made entirely of glass and patches of stone; instead of reflecting the harsh sunlight, they seemed to absorb it and only add to the muted loneliness of the atmosphere. As far as the eye could see, there was no life to be found.

With no other option, the Sleepers eventually made their way onward.

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Finding broken down or unidentifiable structures along the way toward the City was not uncommon. More often than not, they were nothing but crumbled concrete or rotted out piles of lumber. This one was different. This structure still stood.

By the end of the day, as day gave way into chilly dusk, the structure stood tall at the edge of vision. It had obviously seen better days, half of the third floor caved in and noticeable even from such a distance: a mansion, standing lone and tall as a testament to time gone by. Maybe an hour out of the way to get to it. That it had not yet fallen into complete ruin indicated that it might make good shelter for the night, should anyone wish to make the trip.

The fourth day, it was Famine's turn to be a little bit cranky - something he never really dealt with before he was suddenly... human. He was tired (which was strange). Annoyed (which wasn't at all strange, but still negative). He didn't appreciate this feeling of being shuffled along, especially through somewhere like this. Well, on the one hand, the sight of a land in ruin was always a welcome sight in his eyes. But, on the other, he was experiencing this as a powerless human and was seriously on the edge of lashing out at someone instead of maintaining his normal cool. It was... very uncomfortable.

But amongst all the ruin and the nothing and the broken scenery all around them, he did spot that intact thing in the distance. It was too much of an anomaly to ignore. He wondered how it managed to survive whatever had happened here however long ago, but he didn't feel the need to ask. Besides, it's not like any of his pilgrimage companions would know.

He nodded in its direction, then pointed, and turned to see if anyone else was looking. "There may be something worth seeing over here," he offered, voice slightly raised just to get anyone's attention.

"Agreed, but it may also be infested with whatever has survived. Are you willing to risk it?" Doul doesn't speak all that often and when he does, he prefers to keep his voice pitched low and quiet. Still, he not only sounds confident, but appears comfortable traveling at a good speed and looks as if he might be some use in a fight.

“Risk can bring reward, you know,” he returned, somewhat testy. It may as well have been a challenge, honestly. It always had been fun to watch mortals squirm.... he just had to ignore that he was one now. Of course, he still had very little sense of risk. He’d only been human a short time after all. … He didn’t concern himself with it.

With that, he started toward the mansion, looking over his shoulder to see who would follow.

Surely there's some Bas-Lag equivalent to teaching your grandmother to suck eggs, perhaps teaching a Cactacae to turn to the sun or a Scabmettler to bleed. Either way, it's a safe bet that it's what Doul is thinking as he follows Famine towards the building.

Though he was usually content to travel in silence, the barren landscape and the fact that it seemed like it was never changing inspired Sable to actually speak up.

“So, what do you think may have survived?” he asked, genuinely curious. Maybe this man really had some specific idea.

"With luck, a cart." Something with wheels would make their collective progress easier and allow some of the slighter travelers a bit of rest from their packs.

"With our luck, a cart covered in mass of grindylow limb-farmers," he says not bothering to hide the distaste in his voice. Doul can tolerate the grindylow, but he will never understand their appreciation for fleshcrafting.

Aziraphale had made a point of keeping an eye on Famine since the start of the pilgrimage. He knew on some level that the likelihood of him posing a real threat was low, because - well, he would be human, too, wouldn't he? Probably. And that was where Aziraphale became uncomfortable, because "probably not a Horseperson of the Apocalypse" really wasn't good enough for him, not in a wasteland surrounded by people of varying degrees of helplessness.

If there was a meaning to their presence in this world, too, he couldn't figure out how Famine would fit into it. He wasn't a - a person, per se, he was a construct, and therefore wouldn't be given an afterlife, because - what life?

In any case, he'd stayed just far enough away from the man to hopefully avoid suspicion, while staying close enough that he could intervene in some way should a spontaneous Apocalypse sprout up at Famine's feet, or people started losing an unusual amount of weight. What he would do about it if something did occur, of course, he hadn't the faintest idea.

Glancing in the direction Famine was pointing, Aziraphale frowned. Would he go that way? Would he even be interested enough to investigated? Aziraphale wasn't sure. It was so hard to read him, although he got the feeling that was not a new phenomenon.

The probably-not-a-Horseperson-of-the-Apocalypse, while often very perceptive, wasn’t entirely sure if the man he caught staring at him every once in a while really was staring at him that much, or if he was just imagining such. He hadn’t felt the need to bring it up yet, and he honestly didn’t see a need to do so now. He had other things to worry about, after all.

But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t speak to him at all, since he was pretty sure that doing so would make the man jump. And that was entertaining, to say the least. “What do you say? Should we go look?” He paused, considering. “It could at least be a place to rest. It isn’t too far out of the way.”

It had been a good prediction; Aziraphale did jump, a bit, although he steadied himself quickly and tried to maintain an expression of calm interest as he turned to Famine.

Oh, dilemmas. He should go. He really should. But he was tired, and this seemed like some sort of adventure, or something, and why should they detour when the compass was pointing the other way?

Then again: rest. Then again: rest in the company of him. Blast.

Aziraphale hemmed for a moment, and then gave in to curiosity. "We might as well," he said, skin itching slightly at the fact that he was including himself in a 'we' with Famine, and began walking at a weary pace toward the mansion.

And with a nod, Sable went as well, forcing himself to move in a manner that would not give away just how exhausted he truly was. Like hell was he going to show any signs of weakness. He knew that while the mansion wasn’t too far out of the way, it would still be a good walk to get there. He just hoped everyone else wouldn’t slow down enough that it became no longer worth their time.

For his own part, Aziraphale made very little effort to conceal his own exhaustion and discomfort. Really, the more vulnerable he was thought to be in this particular interaction, the better it would be in the long run, although, to be honest, he wasn't acting even a little bit. His feet felt like lead. He wondered idly how people did this sort of thing for fun, ran marathons and things. It seemed masochistic.

He did end up having to speed up a bit to catch up with the other man, who was walking at a more normal pace. This was a golden opportunity to find out more information about Famine, or whatever he was currently calling himself.

Now if only he could figure out how to approach the issue subtly. Asking "What happened to you after the Apocalypse?" seemed a little bit incautious.

Once at then mansion, Jonas had immediately dropped his back and weapon to do what he did best: explore. Sure he'd studied archeology in Kelowna but that had been nothing compared to reading Dr. Jackson's actual field notes and getting to study places first hand as a part of SG-1. And if they were going to find out anymore about the place they'd found themselves in, this mansion might hold a fount of knowledge, at least as far as he was concerned.

After making sure someone knew where he was going, Jonas set off to look through the remaining intact rooms of the mansion. He made sure to look around after everything and mentally cataloging everything he saw, thanking whoever it was that sent them here that his photographic memory was still mostly intact.

Whoever constructed the mansion itself deserved a medal were they still alive to receive it. The ground groaned under Jonas' footsteps but allowed him passage. The entrance hall was quite opulent, with two large staircases leading up to the second floor, bannisters decorated with shreds of decorative cloth. A single touch would dissolve the cloth easily, to say nothing of the wind blowing in from the ruptured entrance already patiently wearing it down. Debris littered the floor and dust covered almost every surface. Only some mostly-faded paw prints on the tile indicated that anything had been inside within a measurable amount of time.

The rightmost staircase suffered from extensive damage, several of the steps caved in and impassable unless one wished to try jumping across the gap and risk the rest of the stairs falling with them. The other staircase had faired much better and appeared safe to traverse up to the second floor.

To his left, Jonas would catch sight of a long, collapsed table surrounded by chairs of varying states. To his right, what appeared to be dark colors on the walls that had since faded and lounge furniture.

At first, Jonas just stood in the enteranceway, taking in all the details and cataloging them. It had a very modern feel to it, by Earth standards, definitely not something he'd expect to see on a Goa'ould world, who normally liked to keep their populations stuck in a past era, or even his own Kelowna.

Once he'd established a game plan of sorts, he moved into the room and to the left, searching through the debris of the table and chairs for any items that might have belonged to the owner of the house or just provide any clues. Then, he carefully examined the furniture to the right. If he had to make an educated guess, he would have said there were dining and living areas, but he wasn't positive, only a search of the rest of the house would say for certain.

The room on the left was indeed some sort of dining room, judging by the decor: a dresser along the side for the nice silverware and tablecloths, and vases hosting completely wilted plants. Two picture frames lay on either side of the room, with one still hanging on by a thread through sheer tenacity.

In the far back of the dining room was a large doorway. Once upon a time it might have housed double swinging doors, but they had long since fallen off their hinges and lay discarded and decaying on the floor. The large rug and tile underneath gave way to what used to be nicely patterned linoleum before it had turned into a scuffed, chipped and filthy mess of a walkway. The kitchen lay inside, marble countertops and stainless steel appliances worn down by the harsh air and dust blown in through the shattered windows. To the right of this entrance was a pantry door that seemed to have wedged itself in its doorway and miraculously stayed upright.

Edited 2012-05-05 04:00 (UTC)

The stark, somewhat eerie structure standing incongruously against the otherwise empty landscape had caught his eye immediately, and sure it would mean heading a little further out of their way than his exhausted body would have appreciated, but the chance to sleep somewhere at least approaching civilised and sheltered after days of nothing more than the basic supplies they'd been allocated held a particularly strong allure for him. Besides, today was the 4th May, his birthday, and the hours' trek to the mansion would certainly seem like a worthy gift if he was able to get a decent night's sleep in relative comfort.

He'd made his way there along with the others who had chosen to do so, dropping his pack and rubbing his aching shoulders as soon as he was inside. The place was still derelict and may well have seen better days, but right now it seemed like luxury compared with the conditions they had endured since the outset.

"Ah, time to take a look around," the words were quiet and spoken mostly to himself, yet they were still audible to anyone standing in the general vicinity.

Sand and dust covered nearly every surface inside the entrance hall of the mansion. It was hard to tell the immediate state of anything under the grime, but it was easy to see the two wide staircases leading upward: the left only sporting a few holes here and there, while the right was almost entirely caved in. Traces of luxury were easy to notice if one looked, nearly eradicated through time and exposure to the elements.

The second floor itself did not appear to be an immediate danger. Nor did either of the rooms to Izaya's sides, the left one appearing to be a dining room of some sort with its long wooden table and several chairs all in various states of uprightness, while the right room was marred in dark and inviting colors smudged by time itself. This one appeared to be less stable than the others judging by the sheer amount of debris having fallen in from the floor above, but doable if one was careful with their steps.

It was in a state of disrepair, sure, but right now it still felt like luxury in comparison with the conditions they had been forced to endure over the previous few days. There were plenty of times in the past - at least, the past that Izaya could recall - where his slender, agile build had come in useful to him, and he didn't doubt that now would be another of those times. He could step lightly where it was needed, his slight weight proving less of a liability than a heavier frame would have been, and if that failed he was just arrogant enough to feel certain he could rely on his skill with parkour to extricate him from any unwanted situation the derelict mansion might present.

He only took a cursory look at the rooms closest to him; what he wanted was a bedroom, or perhaps a library that might contain the remnants of useful information, though right now he was tired enough that his usual pursuits would likely have to take a back seat. Leaving his pack where he'd dropped it, he headed for the staircase in the least disrepair in an effort to locate the kind of room he desired.

Up the stairs were several rooms off to both sides. However, the hallway to the right caved in only two doors in, ceiling open to the warm sky outside. The visible doors were surprisingly in tact, one splintered and cracked under the weight, while the other only seeming to have jammed with the tilt of its frame. It didn't appear as though the floor itself had fallen under the pressure, but who knew what adding to it might do?

To the left seemed much safer, four doorways all readily apparent. One of the doors was in shreds. One had fallen into the hallway and snapped in half at some point, the upper half propped against the wall while the lower rotted on the floor. Another in the far back hung halfway off its hinges, while the furthest out seemed to be in the best of repair. Peering in through the visible doorways would confirm that these were indeed the bedrooms.

A risk Izaya was unwilling to take, regardless of how light on his feet he might be, particularly when to the left of him the hallway appeared much more stable. He proceeded along it cautiously, though without much concern; despite the new and confusing environment he still possessed the same self-confidence he'd always known. Or at least, always remembered knowing.

His lips curved into a smile on discovering that the rooms he'd located were, indeed, bedrooms, and he proceeded onwards towards the final doorway, the one that seemed to have sustained the least amount of damage; he saw no reason why he shouldn't claim the best that was available to him after days of poor rest and discomfort. Still, he opened the door with a degree of caution, glancing inside before deciding whether or not to enter.

Inside the final room was what appeared to be a simple design hidden underneath the ravages of time. There were two twin beds shoved against the far wall (a small dresser at their feet), one in each corner, along with a desk for a computer. Its screen had long-since crumbled thanks to the room's broken window along the right wall allowing the elements inside. All in all, it seemed to have been a shared room for people who had not cared to spend much time inside it. While there were no springs poking up out of the mattresses for the beds, there would be no accounting for comfort until Izaya gave it a try.

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smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

Day 4 (May 4th)

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so your tag definitely made me lol ♥

I do try, I do.

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