caveofsapphires | 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.

He took a look at his own compass to make sure that she was actually on the right path, before taking after the woman in a brisk jog.

As Hope, he hadn't done this for quite a while. Sure, he can still play within his mind how he'd flipped open a switchblade for the first time, and even used a gun as an adult when the monsters got far too close for comfort during one of his expeditions... But he didn't know if Garrett did. They looked alike, but the way the bodies had grown up were different.

... Anxiety was a horrible, horrible thing, he decided, and pushed all thoughts out of his head in favor of surviving each moment.

"I'm Garrett. Garrett Ross."

Since they would be stuck together for the journey, he thought that he might as well learn her name in case he'd need to yell at her to duck or something similar.

She couldn't help her feet falling into a steady march. It was habit by this point. And while the weight of the knife in her pocket was reasonably comforting, she still remembered very clearly telling Jackrum that she had no idea how to use weapons because vampires didn't need them. Well. She had very little idea what was going on with this body, but it wasn't the right one, and she was very sure she wouldn't be able to rip anyone's head off in the near future. Perhaps she was being punished for hubris, ha ha.

She turned to the man who'd caught up with her. Oh. Were they going to be pleasant and friendly during this trip through the wilderness? She gave him her toothiest, most charming smile. "Milena Tichý - " apparently, she didn't add. "A pleasure, under the circumstances."

Garrett gave a small smile of his in return. "Well, it could be better."

Could be worse. But he'd gone through several places before as Hope, with an assortment of people, so he knew he could do this. They could do with a few more people though, considering there were a few more of them that he could see-- strength in numbers and all that.

How he wished for his magic now. The knife and gun were good and all, but he preferred and missed his magic, but he knew there was no way to retrieve those spells unless he got himself branded again.

"Of course it could be better," Mal said, thinking: Left, right, etc. This is harder on sand than packed dirt. "But we could also be on fire, or two feet tall, or it could be even hotter than it currently is, so on the whole I'll take what we've got."

This, of course, did not mean that she wouldn't complain down the road. Long marches were one thing, but she wasn't used to them under quite these conditions. She sort of wanted to unpack her backpack and check on the bag of coffee beans that she knew she'd squirreled away before they'd left, but that would lead to odd questions, so she readjusted the pack and tried not to think about it.

smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

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