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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm sure you thought they were very fair."

Re-l shifted a little against the cliff. It was warm, and that made her a little sleepy. Her concentration wavered.

"Like I said, I think the proxy had a death wish. He probably made it easy for Vincent on-"

The rattling pebble stopped her in her tracks and her attention snapped back to the cliff. She pushed herself up and hurried to edge of the ledge. Her eyes scanned the situation desperately, but she couldn't move out onto the ledge. She'd just get in the way. Pressing herself against the cliff, she held out her hand towards Gabriel.

"Look at me!" Her eyes focused on him, full of the same determination as her voice. "Take a step. Don't look down. Keep looking at me. I can almost reach you."

She needed to keep his attention and so she began to talk about the first thing that came into her head, just for something to say.

"Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the strangest thing that ever happened to me was - well it was before I came here. I told you about Daedalus. He was the man who raised and created me. The Chief of the Medical Bureau. But in the end he didn't much like how I turned out. So he used cells, from Monad Proxy, to make a clone. I never met her, but I saw her. I admit, it surprised me. I never thought Daedalus would go so far. But then she didn't look very much like me. She had white hair, and gold eyes, and wings. Like a real angel. Daedalus certainly thought so. But then she went off after Vincent. She left Daedalus, just like I had. He never forgave either of us, right to the end." She swallowed, her throat drying out. "Stupid, wasn't it?"

He was looking at her. He was hardly even blinking, he was looking at her so hard. Sweat trickled down his brow as he took a sliding step without his gaze shifting.

"Created, eh?" he said, his voice strained. "You said that the other day. When you say 'created' d'you mean grown in a test-tube or cloned or what?" Then he smirked, and although it was a wan thing, there was a trace of amusement in it. He took another step. "Well, the wings part is right. Most of us have wings. But the majority don't really even look human if you could see us and not have your eyes burn out. Or the case of archangels like me, have your brain explode."

The archangel wasn't going to comment on the stupidity. Wasn't going to comment on the fact that her father cared and it came out all the wrong ways, compared to his, who seemed to stop caring at all. Bad comparisons, there. His third and final step put him in reach of Re-l.

Re-l felt his hand close around hers and gripped as tight as she could, using the angle of the cliff as a counterweight to stop herself moving.

"An artificial womb," she said, her voice shaky with the exertion. "Everyone in Romdeau was. By the time we came along humanity had long since lost the ability to reproduce unaided. Daedalus was in charge of the wombs, and he was given special care of me because I was the Regent's granddaughter."

She was half pulling Gabriel now, to keep him moving.

"That sounds like the old stories. Can you do that here, do you think?"

"That sucks." He gripped her hand tightly and decided to never, ever mention just how tightly he was doing so, how much of that was fear. (In his head, the professor, yet again, went splat.) "I hope you guys could at least still have sex; otherwise I'd just have to feel bad for you."

He submitted to the pull, shuffling along inch by inch. There was no need to think, no need to consider the fear, when there was a force dragging him to the end.

Then for a moment the archangel's gaze actually focused on Re-l, instead of seeing through her to concentrate on the ledge beneath his feet and the cliff against his hand. And that gaze was old and apprehensive in a way only a being who had, suddenly, become something else entirely, become less than what they had been, could be. Then his face closed off and he snorted with affected disdain. "No. I'm human here. I used to be bigger than a skyscraper and now I'm stuffed inside this little bag of meat and bones. Souls are insanely compact, y'know."

"We have the right anatomy, if that's what you're asking," Re-l said, shifting her weight with a grunt. She let him take what he wanted from that, concentrating on the task at hand.

Then he looked at her; not the jittery half glances of the day after the sandstorm but a deep old look that sank into her bones, that laid her open on a table and vivisected her. She felt as though all her secrets, all of the shame and guilt that lay buried in the bottom of her heart were pulled out into the open. She couldn't bear that look. Her eyes dropped to the ground, and for a moment her grip slackened.

Then she remembered herself and pulled again, and with a final heave Gabriel was on wide and solid ground beside her.

"There we go," she said. "The meat and bones are quite good for some things, you'll find."

He saw things. He couldn't help it, with the way her soul responded to the look, even though he hadn't intended it. He saw a woman with white hair and golden eyes. He saw the death of a robot with a cloth head, cursing her, and the overlay of spikes there was so sharp that there was almost no ambiguity as to the context.

It was just as well she looked away then, because Gabriel wasn't sure he wanted to see more. Not now. Not here.

Her sudden yank helped him shake off the reading, and he stumbled thankfully against the cliff, sinking against it and throwing her an ironic smirk that wasn't quite as steady as it should have been. "Yeah, it's good for turning into a pancake after falling fourteen storeys."

Re-l looked him up and down, but he didn't seem hurt. That look he had given her still shadowed her mind.

"You didn't die. Don't complain."

She let go of his hand and moved away a little, just to distance herself from him.

"We should be able to see the city when we climb this ridge. Let's not waste time."

She rolled her shoulders out and set off up the track, ignoring Gabriel solidly.

Well, that was a thing. For a moment Gabriel wondered if she knew he'd seen anything before deciding that if she had, her reaction would have been more explosive.

Still, he didn't move for a minute or two--not until she was further up the track--so he could catch his breath and will his hands to stop shaking. It was only then that he started after her and called out, "You know, if you want me to complain, I can do so much better than that!"

"Why would I want you to complain?" Re-l asked. "It's unhelpful and annoying."

But she stopped and waited, just in case. She used the moment to look onwards. There was a definite glint on the horizon.

"I can see the city," she said, turning back to Gabriel. "We're almost there."

"And a distraction, and gives you something to complain about," Gabriel pointed out facetiously with a flashing grin, deliberately taking his time in catching up. His whole body was aching. He wasn't about to move faster than he had to. "I'm just doing a civic duty and all that."

Finally he came level with her and glanced toward the horizon, shading his eyes despite the fact he was still wearing his goggles. The glare seemed to be easing off--something the faint throb in his temples was thankful for. "The Amazing Race," he murmured with a smirk. "Wonder which of us lucky idiots gets there first."

Re-l glared at him, but she couldn't think of a reasonable comeback, and so her glare had to suffice. She let him catch up with her and then started moving again, climbing further up the ridge, her eyes on the city.

"I haven't seen anyone today, which I suppose means they're all behind or ahead. It doesn't matter, though. What's waiting for us when we arrive seems more important."

Hah. Gabriel mentally chalked up another mark in his favour and gave her his most winsome smile. "As long as we get there, I don't care if the whole population is dancing the Macarena in their birthday suits," the archangel informed her, and then added, "Though I might be a bit weirded out if we get there and the others have decided to join them."

"I think that would be most unlikely," Re-l said, shaking her head, "but we should be careful. It would be sensible to split up and approach the city from different angles, or at different times. There's no point in giving them any information they don't need." Something jostled her memory, and she snapped a finger. "Names. From now on, my name is Masa. I'll call you Sylvester."

They had crested the last hill, and a long but easy descent to the outer ring awaited them. They would be there by evening.

He'd have to teach her to have some imagination. Gabriel snorted. "They know we're coming. The Caretaker would've gotten it to them, or else they'd be unprepared to indoctrinate us."

Right. Of course. The archangel made a face at the sound of his name, shaking his head. "Couldn't have picked a better one," he muttered as they reached the top of the hill. Then he sighed, and grinned, and stretched. After desert, rocks, ravines, cats, robots and sandstorms, the sight of that city was almost beautiful. It was certainly striking; he wondered if that was a real diamond. Well, either way.

"Last one inside the gates gets their hair coloured," he said cheerfully, only half meaning it, and started down the hill toward the city.

Re-l opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it. There was no point in telling him that she would not give them anything that they might use against her later, anything they could threaten her with. He would only take it the wrong way.

She let him walk until he was a good way ahead of her, and then at last began her own journey.

"My hair doesn't take colour," she said to no one in particular.

"Then I'll just have to put that to the test, won't I?" Gabriel was the only one to hear or answer, and he did so jauntily without turning around, without taking his eyes off the promise the city held.

Re-l slowed her pace a little more, annoyed that he could still hear her. She couldn't resist one last comment, though.

"You're welcome to try. If you're not particularly attached to your limbs."

Gabriel's only response was laughter, drifting back to her on the breeze.

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