smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

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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.

| Day 1: Calm

| Day 2: Animals

| Day 3: Sandstorm

| Day 4: Mansion

| Day 5: Thomp

| Days 6&7: Long way

Comments

Day 1 (May 1st)

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That was that. They were kicked out of the Cave with nothing but a compass to follow and no choice to turn around. They could go anywhere they wanted... but where else was there to go? Wind howled quietly in the distance and the sun beat down mercilessly on anything unlucky enough to be above ground. Standing still would be a bad idea unless relative shelter could be found. Outcroppings of glassy rock or large enough scars in the land would suffice. Just don't let yourself get burned.

[inequal]

No matter what the Workers had said, there was something breathtaking about seeing the world with his own eyes. It sent a powerful shiver down his spine. Everything... there was no "everything". While the Cave had been strange, foreign and intimidating, this Overworld was vast and something else entirely. It was not home, it was not safe and here they were, expected to make the trek all the way to a City none of them recalled. Anselmo had made one thing abundantly clear: moving backward was not an option.

Abruptly taking in a deep breath, Liam began to cough on the accumulated dust. "Oh, fucking hell," he muttered, patting on his own chest to try and clear the passage. If this was an indication of how the rest of their journey was to go, then they were screwed.

[deshabille]

Mal had seen bleak. Mal was intimately familiar with bleak. This was somewhere entirely past bleak.

She'd taken the weapons and the compass and the silly goggles and the sunscreen; she'd listened to the impromptu - what was it - stun gonne demonstration; she'd wondered if she should perhaps have stayed and looked around more - but the only way out was through, supposedly, and the more answers she found in the near future the better.

There was dust in her teeth already. She grimaced and raised a hand lazily. "Are we going, then?"

[delightme]

Any other being might have called the landscape "hellish," but Balthazar had seen Hell. The real Hell, with its many different lands full of pain, suffering, torment, and of course, its enemies. Although the angel (former, it's former now) had to give this skillet the Workers here called the Overworld some credit; it certainly was nothing to sneeze at. Especially now that he could no longer travel where he liked at will and was now (un)comfortably stuck in his human vessel.

Still, though, he supposed jumping into the proverbial frying pan couldn't be that bad if it was leading away from the Cave. Despite the stifling climate, Balthazar breathed deep and made his way forward.

"How wonderful for them to let us work on our tans."

[trickntreats]

Gabriel had taken a rifle, knife and the pack with a mocking smile, though whether it was mocking himself or the Workers it was hard to tell. When he hefted the knife it was at least somewhat reminiscent of his sword; he slung the rifle over his back and strapped the knife's sheath to his arm.

He couldn't deny he was eager to get out of that blasted cave, so he strode forward, cheerful and jaunty and with an air that said he would have been humming with sheer pleasure except he just wasn't. (Not a note.)

Then they reached the surface proper and he stopped short, the sight of it like a punch to the gut. Now he knew why that phrase said what it did. The land before them was--there was no other word for it--raped. Sure, there were parts of Espas which were kind of hot and deserty and scrubby, but the sort of desert it had been had life in it. This was just ... rock and dust. And glass, of all things. It was wrong and it left chills all down his spine--a sensation he never wanted to feel again, thanks very much.

"This isn't what it's supposed to look like." The words came out before he could stop them.

[doul]

Shading his eyes, Doul stood briefly surveyed the land before him, taking in the sight and trying to match it to anything he'd seen or heard of before. He would know the Scar from a thousand miles away and surely he would be able to feel the Cacotopic Stain leeching his mind away and twisting his body? Perhaps he is further still, trapped somehow beyond Nova Esperium and into the lost lands of Bered Kai Nev. He wonders if when they enter the desert, the ground will be littered with gearships and the chitinous heads of dead khepri women or if the sun and sand have already ground them back into dust.

Since his awakening in the cave, Doul (now Downing) has kept quiet and to himself. There was no great gap between his rising and being pushed out into the desert. They have been armed and while these godspit bastards saw fit to take his engine and sword, he feels confident enough that if the guards did not lie, at least a portion of their team will make it to their destination.

[littlealienguy]

To say the task at hand was daunting was an understatement. Only recently they had woken up in a new world and told their lives were a dream. Now they were being forced out of that comfort zone (for what little comfort it was) and sent off on what possibly could be a perilous journey to another new life.

Jonas would be lying if he said he wasn't a tiny bit intimidated by the whole concept. But a voice in the back of brain that sounded vaguely like Colonel O'Neill told him to suck it up make SG-1 proud. And dream or not, Jonas was determined to do just that.

Those glass outcroppings sure looked interesting though...

Day 2 (May 2nd)

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The day progressed as relatively normal as could be. Walking, talking, breaking for food and a moment's rest, everyone continued onward. At first everything seemed fine. Murmuring of the wind across the ground steadily grew louder, louder and louder until it was soon apparent that it wasn't the wind at all.

It was the ferocious yowl of something gigantic and feline. It was coming for the Sleepers. It was ready to hunt.

Re: Day 2 (May 2nd)

[brightblueeyeshadow]

When the first yowl came, Re-l tensed. It was pure instinct, nothing more. Her body might be out of shape, but it remembered danger, and she reacted instinctively.

It was early afternoon, and the sun was high in the sky, meandering through a cloudless heaven. The light was strong, but the angle was good, and unlikely to interfere with her aim. The dust, on the other hand, was drier than ever. Visibility would be the main risk, when whatever it was attacked.

It never occured to Re-l to assume it might not attack. She wasn't built for optimism.

She glanced around. Only an hour since they'd stopped for food, so the group was relatiely compact. She glanced from one face to another, assessing the crowd. Too many people for her to protect alone. Should she stick to herself, or try to enlist the most useful help? Some of the people she'd met, in the caves or on the journey, might prove useful.

She couldn't be sure. Best to wait and see. Even shouting a warning might do more harm than good, if people panicked. And not everyone here looked useful in a fight.

Her hand dropped to her belt, and she regretted the loss of Awakening once more. This stun gun simply didn't have the range or power she required. Keeping a firm grip on the handle of her gun, she lowered her stance and waited for the onslaught.

[littlealienguy]

Being hunted by animals was actually new to Jonas. Jaffa, Replicators and other aliens yes but not actual wild animals. So he admit-tingly wasn't quite sure what to do, nor was he sure what his role models in these types of situations (Colonel O'Neill and Teal'C) would do.

Figuring it would be easier with less weight, Jonas dropped his pack to the ground and aimed with his stun rifle as he joined others in scanning the landscape for the new threat.

[Anyone up for some powers discovery?]

[whowillsaveyou]

The Doctor's head snapped up the instant he heard the sound, having been watching where he put his feet. That was not a good sound. That was a hungry sound. ...At least it wasn't a Dalek sound, though. A hungry beast would only be looking to pick off the weakest of them.

Wait, that was probably him.

Without waiting for the group to figure out where the sound was coming from, the Doctor moved to a middle-point, you know, just to be sure. He had no weapon anyway, and wasn't about to go up against the thing bare-handed. This way he'd be out of the way. It was perfectly sound logic.

"I'd suggest grouping up," he commented. Beasts didn't tend to charge in on a full group unless they were near-starved or diseased - both of which, he had to admit, were entirely possible in this landscape - but it would also afford them a better defence.

Day 3 (May 3rd)

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What was that? Not the cry of a wild cat, but a gust tugging at your legs and ready to knock you over. It roared from the west, building up speed and ferocity, until all that could be seen was a wall of sand racing toward the group from the far distance.

Run, Sleepers. Run faster than the storm about to engulf you or search for shelter. Make it to the crevasse, or buffer yourself with the scenery, or look for some sort of third option. Do not get caught out alone.

[tartanisstylish]

Aziraphale was ready to give up by the third day.

Not that he was proud of it. Not that he would. But had someone stopped him for a moment his legs would have given out and he would have dropped to the sandy ground. He wasn't used to being tired. He didn't like being tired.

So when he felt - and saw - the oncoming storm, he briefly passed a hand over his face - Someone needs to give me strength - before looking around wildly for some sort of shelter. There was a crevasse not too far distant that looked reasonably promising, but could they get there in time?

He gestured wildly at those who were closest to him. "Look, try in there - over there, do you see it?" he yelled over the rising wind. "Get out of the open!"

And then, hesitating, looking over his shoulder in hopes that others would follow, already second-guessing that his idea was even safe, he ran.

[trickntreats]

"You have got to be shitting me." Gabriel groaned. Oh, he kind of liked storms. He just didn't like sandstorms. Of all the natural weather phenomenon, this one, he felt, was exactly like Raphael: abrasive, oblivious, and never-endingly the same hour after hour.

He turned tail and ran for the crevasse, losing sight of his brothers as the wind picked up around him and threw sand around. It wasn't easy; he wasn't a very fast runner, and it wasn't long before there was an almighty stitch in his side and his chest burned.

Shit. Shit. This is why smart humans exercise in proportion to their sugar intake, you idiot.

The sand scoured his face; his eyes were protected by the goggles, but he held his arm up to protect the rest of it. He'd lost sight of the crevasse, and it felt like his heart jumped wildly all over his chest even without the exhaustion. Not just fear, but terror. He could do without it.

"Hey!" he shouted. Or rather screamed. The sand got in his mouth and he coughed. He had to be close to the crevasse; he just couldn't see it. He just needed a direction. "HEY!"

[knifedances]

It was only day three and already his body ached in ways he hadn't known possible, the harsh environment and tireless trekking forcing him to endure hardships he would never have conceived of in his 'dream' life, and now this had happened, the rising storm swiftly gaining ground on them, bringing a sharp spike of a fear he was unaccustomed to feeling piercing through his chest. Not even the general fear and panic of those around him could be enough to bring him any sense of comfort right now, not when his own life was so very clearly at risk.

It was tempting to simply drop the pack that he was currently encumbered with, lighten the load and make it all the easier to flee, but providing he survived this he knew he wouldn't last long without the provisions they'd been provided with, and so he maintained his hold on it. He was fast, very fast, something that had saved him from the threat of danger many times in the past, and despite his body's exhaustion he at least knew he could continue to rely on this ability now. Eyes focused on the crevasse in the distance, he began to run.

[inequal]

Ever since the day before, since Ken's injury and subsequently slower pace, since he had started to move distances without moving so much as trying to move, Liam had been very deliberate about how he stepped. It wouldn't do to keep phasing all over the place without any idea how to control it properly. This wasn't like how he did it before, back when he had reason to be popping in and out on a whim.

So, he walked carefully. The wind kicking up around them was enough to catch his attention early and he huddled into his windbreaker... and noticed the sound from behind them. "Shit," he muttered, hand automatically going to grip at Ken's arm while stepping to the side and getting ready to move as quickly as he could. It was the panic that shattered his concentration and the next thing he knew, he was through the empty space and stumbling over the ground several yards away, without Ken, and...

... that was a cliff. That was definitely a cliff he was sliding toward. A short one, relatively speaking, but when its face was apparently made of glass, the perceived distance shot up dramatically. Liam rolled down it and crashed to the bottom with an oomph. He rocketed to his feet and started yelling upward before he could even notice the safe haven several yards off to his left: nature's makeshift shelter of a wide glass spire meeting with the edge of the cliff at an angle to form a very crude sort of tent.

"Ken! Ken!" Despite the clock ticking against him, he desperately reached around for footholds on the sheer surface to try and get back up. As the search turned more and more futile, he began to mutter, "Fuck, fuck, bloody fuck, this couldn't have come at a worse time...!"

Day 4 (May 4th)

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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.

[nouvellestyle]

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.

[littlealienguy]

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.

[knifedances]

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.

Day 5 (May 5th)

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After the excitement of the rest of the week, another day of rest under cloudy skies was well-earned. Too bad no one in the Overworld was willing to take good karma as payment.

Thomp. Thomp. Thomp.

The noise came around midday, when the sun shone its hardest through gaps in the cloud cover, loud and metallic and getting closer with every step. Something was coming, something nearly unidentifiable, something nearly on top of the Sleepers before they even knew it was there.

[tactical_alert]

That throbbing pain in Malcolm's head, just behind the eyes, had flared up again today, though moments when his vision skewed were fewer, so far, than in the past two days. The little things made him thankful in the harsh environment. But he didn't dare thing it was about to be a sign of a good day. There were no good days here.

At first, he thought he was imagining the noise, something on the wind, like other sounds that had blown on through, but he stopped to strain his ears to listen. He felt it, a rhythm shocking through the ground up through his feet. And on the wind, a mechanical noise.

"Hold up!" he called out sharply, coming out much more an order than a suggestion. His weapon was at the ready. "Does anyone else hear that?"

[trickntreats]

Really. Really? Gabriel cast his eyes upward from where he was sprawled against a rock, limp, sweaty and really, really hating humanity's stupid physical make-up. If he'd been worried about eating too much sweet food two days before, he was sure as Hell going to be slimmed down by the time they reached the damned city. "This has stopped being funny, Dad!"

It was ... he didn't even know what it was. He felt as if he was trapped in one of his own damned constructs, and couldn't even figure out just quite which crime he was being punished for. It made him wonder, uncomfortably, if that's what his targets had felt.

He pushed himself to his feet, shading his eyes and squinting, his fingers at the ready for a snap. Just in case. He knew he could do something with it, now.

Day 6 & 7 (May 6th / 7th)

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They came to an impassable canyon. No matter which direction they looked, it only got wider from end to end. Just beyond it, the spires of still-standing buildings in the City were visible in the far reaches of the plain beyond. Their only option would be to walk around and waste precious days to try and find an alternate solution... or go straight through. Those with good hearing might be able to pick out the faint sound of rushing. Water running through the shadowy depths of the wide ravine.

Whatever option the Sleepers would choose, one thing was obvious: it was a setback. They would have to spend more time to get past this obstacle than the Workers could have predicted.

May 6th

[littlealienguy]

Jonas was tired. In fact, he didn't remember ever being this tired in his whole life, not in Kelowna, on Earth or on a mission with SG-1. And looking at the ravine in their path only caused him to be more so. He wished Sam was here, she'd know what to do.

But as for himself, not even his alien brain could help him in this moment. "Anyone have any ideas?"