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.

"Downing," he said, slowing his pace to stop and shake hands. There's a moment where he looks to move as if he's going to clasp Gabriel's forearm as a warrior might, but he before it happens he moves to shake hands. He hasn't let it show to anyone, but it bothers him intensely that the wires and gears that were once woven through his arm aren't there; there's no physical discomfort, but the ache remains. "And yes, I'm new."

The first instinct isn't missed, and Gabriel wore a faintly self-mocking smile as he shook, his grip absurdly tight to see how the man would react. And maybe just because he could. "That the name they gave you or the one you had before?"

Muscle memory, even if he's not sure that the form he's in is really his own body, is harder to sublimate than what he says.

"I wouldn't know what you're talking about," he replies coolly as he ignores Gabriel's grip. Yes, it's uncomfortable, but he's endured far worse than a man who needs to prove his worth through a petty show of dominance.

Definitely the stoic type. Almost certainly a hunter. Most likely he'd be fun and aggravating in equal amounts. He released the man's hand and rolled his eyes, hands coming up in a flourish. "You know! Dreaming one life, yanked into another? Pretty sure we're free of the whole 'surveillance' shtick now."

"Pretty sure." Doul doesn't appear to be overly keen on discussing whatever his life was in dreams; either because it's a private affair or because the best disguise, like Downing, is one you learn to live with. It won't be easy to settle into the sort of life his 'real' counterpart led, but he's taken on worse masks and lived to tell the tale.

Gabriel shrugged. "Eh, if you live without risks life just gets boring. So, then! If you're going to be boring, what were you doing before we went into the coffins?"

Judging by how similar backgrounds seemed to be, or at least how similar his and Balthazar's had been to the reality, it might give him some good insight into this guy.

smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

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