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.

"Isn't death supposed to come to all of us eventually?" Shrugging, Mal focused on the storm outside with a neutral expression. It was a strange thing to have to shrug off effective immortality at the instruction of a collection of drones and mysteries. Vampires could die, of course, but they required very special circumstances to do so, and Mal had always hoped that she'd avoid both wooden stakes and beheading for hundreds of years. Now she was allegedly faced with death in perhaps fifty years and a body that tired far more quickly than she felt it should. It was irritating.

"But hope," she continued, "that we can certainly do, if you find that a worthwhile exercise."

He'd have been interested to hear of the past she believed belonged to her, had he known; mortality - or at least, the idea of ceasing to exist - was the one thing he'd like to be able to transcend, to be certain that he could go on watching humans indefinitely. Not that it mattered now, perhaps, with everyone here rendered mortal, but it would have been interesting to hear that such a thing was possible, at least.

"Eventually, sure. But personally I'd like to go on living for a little longer," at least until he'd ascertained exactly what was going on here, preferably finding a way back to his own life in the process, if such a thing was even possible. He wasn't prepared to give up on the possibility that it was, just yet. "And hope can be worthwhile enough, on occasion. Though I've always preferred to deal in facts and certainties myself. Unfortunately it doesn't seem as though that option is available to us, right now."

"Facts and certainties do seem to be in short supply," she agreed, making a face. "Unfortunately enough, most people consider hope to be a first resort, even though it's so . . . " She wrinkled her nose. "Unrealistic."

She was acting a bit more cynical than she actually was, but she had no real desire to talk about all the inspiring people she'd met in recent years and how they'd given her hope, just a touch of it, for what that was worth. It was no more likely that she'd tell him that than that she'd tell Polly that she was actually very clever, or that she'd let blood touch her lips again. Cynicism looked better on her than optimism anyway.

smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

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sorry D: that was a ridiculous delay