Futuristic New Oasis: Moonshot

[Inheritance]

Cyrus Metonia

SCENE:

May 22, 2185| Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Saturn_moon (Lenora), NeonArmageddon (Elena), morbidity (Penny)

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Cyrus remained impassive as he took note of Lenora's annoyance at his insistence to call her ma'am. His years of training had drilled the importance of titles and courtesy (or at least the appearance of courtesy) into his mind. Rarely, if ever, did he refer to someone by their first name if he could help it. He felt a small satisfaction that it gave Lenora a bit of irritation, giving him a slight bit of high ground when speaking, but felt the advantage drop off completely as her gaze burned into his. I hope you mean it when you say you are here to change things for the better.

She had guessed too much, too quickly...or perhaps Cyrus wasn't as good at hiding his intentions as he thought he was. Of course, the government (as well as himself) had reasons that weren't exactly altruistic for the military occupation, but if New Oasis could be turned into a cornerstone for the a new Earth Cyrus was happy to accommodate and reward those who would help. When Cyrus first led his troops into the town he had believed there was no possibility they would face any resistance; yet as he found himself caught in Lenora's glare he began to feel as though he might not have this place as under control as he might have liked.

But the moment quickly passed as the newcomer came out to greet Lenora, giving Cyrus a moment to collect himself. At the mention of a party and the phrase, "get to know the townsfolk better", Cyrus began to scramble for an explanation.

"A party? I'm not sure that will be necessary..." He bit off the last few words as another newcomer joined the group. Elena Clairmont, the town's physician.

He would be remiss in his duties as a general if he didn't identify the medics in the town, even if they didn't directly work for him. One of his first orders upon arrival at New Oasis was to get the identity of any doctor worth their salt. Elena, as his intelligence had told him, was worth not only her own salt but perhaps of ten doctors. Her talent and intelligence had been deftly noted in case the army needed her services.

"A party seems like a lot of work for the hosts of this fine establishment. I wouldn't want to bother anyone." Cyrus said quickly. He hoped they would get the hint and let him trudge off back to his office, but somehow he had a feeling that wasn't going to happen.

 

[Slav]

Curtis Merrill

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Atlantis: Excelsior Plaza

PARTICIPANTS:

Angel, Curtis, Easton, Gilbert, Irene, Whitney

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Curtis appreciated the honesty that Irene displayed. People tended to meander around with their intentions. Displaying your true intentions was a trait that he liked to see in people. That made speaking to Irene easier than his average day to day conversation. He wasn't surprised by the question Irene presented. It was a question that he could only adequately answer and knowing her mother, Irene's interests were likely similar. "I would say there is. Probably a fifty-percent increase from last year." He devoured the last of his pizza, washing it down with some coffee. The information he was providing wasn't exactly a secret. Anybody who had paid some attention to the news would see the increase in reports.

Before Curt could move the conversation forward, the ground shook. His face remained calm even as the ground beneath his feet was rumbling. Something was going on and he was left in the dark like usual. "Well... that's not good." Curt said, chuckling as he got himself onto his feet. Just as he was steady on his feet, he received a transmission from his higher ups. His gaze slowly shifted to Irene, transmitting back an affirmation. "It will be done." Curt picked up his lance, letting it rest on his shoulder. "I have orders to take you to the administrative hall. I suggest you come with me." He wasn't threatening Irene, but he made it clear that she didn't have a choice.

The peacekeeper chugged his coffee, tossing it into a nearby waste bin. "Come on, let's go." It seemed that he wouldn't have much time to relax this morning. If that was the case, it was just another day for him. With Irene at his side, Curt walked a steady pace. He would have walked quicker, but he didn't know how much she could keep up. "I don't know what they want with you but it probably has to do with what just occurred." He said, referring to the rumbling. They passed a pair of teens who seemed panicked but Curt continued on with his mission. His mission was to get Irene to the council.

He took out a cigarette, letting it dangle from his lips as he retrieved his lighter. He let swaths of smoke out after he lit it, putting the lighter back into his pocket. The council building was slowly coming into view, standing out from the surrounding buildings. "We're just about there. Try not to talk unless they talk to you. There are some snobs inside who can't handle being talked to by people with a low status." Curt said, giving her some advice. He didn't really like going into the building. It reminded him too much of the same power that he detested back on Earth. Hopefully, he wouldn't be there for long.

( Damafaud )

 

[Saturn_moon]

Okoro Ndiaye

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Angie, Charlie, Cole, Cyrus, Elena, Lenora

HOPE IS A FLEETING THING

Okoro got down on one knee so he had to look up at the girl, eyes glittering with mischief. "But Penny dear, it is the weird ones that have the most fun!" He broke out in a hearty chuckle before settling into the closest chair, stretching out like a cat. An audible pop sounded from his lower back and he let out a groan of relief. As much as he hated to admit it, he was maybe getting a little too old to be making these long pilgrimages back and forth across the country. The nomadic lifestyle had its perks but he would be lying if he said the idea of a large queen bed with a thick mattress didn't appeal to him. Dex, his right-hand man, has proven himself to be more than capable and Lenora certainly knew her way around things. It wouldn't be so absurd for him to consider retirement, would it?

As quickly as the idea popped into his mind Okoro brushed it aside. Retirement? Hah! What would he do then? Sit on a porch with a drink in hand while he waited to see if death would claim him or the planet first? That was a little too macabre, even for him. Floating through the open door he could make out Lenora and Penny's laughter and glee. No, retirement would not suit him at all. He still had too much to fight for.

"My friend, you have been dearly missed." Okoro pushed the chair out next to his, inviting Charlie to take a seat. "If it weren't for The Last Drop keeping you here, I would have whisked you and Penny away with the circus. Think of all the adventures we could have!" Unfortunately, fantasy quickly made way for reality and Okoro slumped down in his seat as if the weight of the world had suddenly been dropped on his shoulders. "It is bad out there Charlie. Resources are scarcer than ever. The people grow more desperate and less hopeful with every moment. I fear there will come a day when even I decide that it is not worth waking up anymore. What a sad day that will be..."

Silence falls upon Okoro and for a man so large he seemed so very small at that moment. Then again, dealing with one's mortality can do that to a person. "Ah, enough about what we have been up to. Lenora's the better storyteller anyway. Tell me about you. I want to know all the details."

---

The afternoon soon turned to dusk. Quite literally. One of the many crazy things that occurred after the moon split into two was the days and nights on Earth started growing shorter. Something about the moon's gravitational pull becoming weaker resulting in the Earth rotating faster. Who knew the moon was so important? Certainly not me.

But as the sky alight in orange and gold like a blazing fire hearth, a party was wrangled together with the help of Charlie and the rest of the circus. "A round of drinks on the circus!" Okoro announces from the top of the bar. In a corner, some of the circusfolks had set up their instruments and broken out in impromptu song and dance. Lenora on her part had strongarmed Cyrus and Elena into staying for the rest of the afternoon in addition to pulling just about anybody who she could find on the street into The Last Drop.

By the hour of the setting sun, the cabaret was packed and revelry was in full swing. It is a rare sight and one that would warm the cockles of my heart if it weren't for the fact that danger was approaching.

Someone was going to die tonight.

morbidity Inheritance NeonArmageddon Elenion Aura miki​

 

[Damafaud]

Irene Alison

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Atlantis: Excelsior Plaza

PARTICIPANTS:

Irene, Curtis | Easton, Gilbert, Angel, Whitney

HOPE IS A FLEETING THING

"Fifty...!" Irene exclaimed. Then, the shaking ground swallowed what words she had next. Irene let out a short shout. She gripped onto the bench with widened eyes. As all halted, she straightened her dress that got pulled up. She frowned as she recollected her calm. The quake felt larger than the last. What on Earth were they doing under...?

Not sooner than the thought passed, Curt's transmitter buzzed alive. The content taken her aback. What do they wanted from her so soon after the quake? She was and always was a manager, not a researcher. Still, she smoothed the last crease off her dress and nodded. "Take me there."

As they walked, Irene typed a hasty message to her mother. Their coffee date could only wait. The same with her plan on pursuing that trace on illegal titanium. She didn't have much to go on, but fifty percent increase meant they had a steady supply from somewhere and that it was only increasing. Irene kept a brisk pace behind Curt; curse the restrictive dress that forced her steps small. It was fortunate she was adamant against the heels her mother brought.

The council building, a tall, dreary place, if a feat of architecture, soon came into view. Her hold on her floral purse tightened. The last she had been here had been to denounce that father of hers. She glanced side way at Curt. "Worry not. I know the type." And if it turned out that her stupid half-brother had used his father's authority to call her over, she would give him something to remember by.

tag: Slav

 

[Sylvio]

Whitney Choi

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Atlantis: Excelsior Plaza

PARTICIPANTS:

Angel, Curtis, Easton, Gilbert, Irene, Whitney

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

She was quiet, dumbfounded, and downright insulted. The expression on her face said it all. Gilbert seemed to always pull something out of his ass and all she could think of was how conceited this guy was. The crowd was not helping at all.

"Oooh a motorcycle ride."

"Man, I wish I was given a joy ride with Gilbert. She's so lucky!"

"Do you think if I had a ride like that I would get more chicks?"

The obnoxious, the absolutely mindless crowd, the absolute egomaniac trying to win her over. Sure Whitney had dealt with a lot of desperate men but this was just embarrassing. What kind of world was Gilbert living in? Part of her was mad and a bit creeped out too. Does he just do this with any woman he's interested in? But also she was just really curious. There was no other guy on Atlantis like Gilbert, there was no point in chewing him out in front of a huge crowd. After all, if she could win favor with Gilbert it might advance her career somewhat or find out what his deal was.

So, Whit took a deep breath and walked up to the masked man with his daughter in the sidecar. "Ok, handsome." She said raising her pitch a little, trying to entertain the man. Her change in attitude didn't seem to raise suspicion as all the bystanders seemed increasingly jealous and excited that she was going to have a joyride with the Gilbert Griffin. "Take me for a nice drive and maybe I'll forgive you for getting me all worked up~," She said with an exaggerated and passive-aggressive baby voice. It wasn't like he did anything wrong, but Whit felt wronged and she wanted to use this opportunity to take something she feels she was owed.

What that was, she was still trying to figure out.

AriAriAbabwa

 

[miki]

ANGIE

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Penny, Cyrus, Elena, Lenora, Okoro

HOPE IS A FLEETING THING

Something was happening, alright.

Angie’s time was split all over the place, but a significant chunk of it was spent at The Last Drop. Alcohol was the ambrosia of the wasteland, there was always something fun happening, and most importantly, Charlie and Penny were good people. It was rare to meet such endearing business owners anywhere, really.

She had grown familiar with the place. So it was safe to say that not recognizing the woman who was ushering passers-by into The Last Drop meant something was happening. And when something is happening, the last thing Angie wanted to do was be left out.

Even though she had come into the more populated part of town to cash in a favor for a bike modification, she figured it could wait. She had

She hadn’t been approached herself, but Angie waltzed into The Last Drop anyways. She didn’t draw much attention, walking in as a regular in a sea of music and drinking.

Angie’s eyes scanned the landscape. Elena was there, which was not that surprising—Angie respected the hell out of her, but the doctor did spend a lot of hours at The Last Drop. Charlie and Penny were talking to a guy she didn’t know, surrounded by people she didn’t know. Some types of traveling performers, ‘prolly. There was a grizzled looking eyepatch guy, intimidating as he was frigid, who looked like he didn’t wanna be there. Some sad sack sulking at the bar over an emptied glass.

Damn, she didn’t recognize a lot of these people. Where to start…

Like moths drawn to a flame, Angie gravitates towards power. It’s not cruel—it’s the only way of life that has let her live as long as she has. The area with the man whom she had deducted to be the ‘ringleader’ of the performers seemed her best start. The enchanting new woman, the hardened man, it was perfect.

Not that she’d think too hard about it, though. A significantly larger reason to approach them was it was easy to enter a conversation with people she already knew.

“Charlie, Penny! ‘Sup,” Angie held her hand up to give him a subtle wave as she slipped her way into an empty space. “Seems I’m a bit late to the party. Would you mind introducing me to these intriguing figures?” Angie placed her hand to her chin and brazenly gestured her hand at the newcomers for dramatic effect.

 

[simj26]

Angel Gauthier

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Excelsior Plaza, Atlantis

PARTICIPANTS:

N/A

Mieux vaut être seul que mal accompagné

Irene Alison. Not a name that he wanted to read. Not a person he wanted to encounter. “Roger,” was all he said in reply. He stood up slowly from his seat, and downed his cup of tea, the freshly brewed hot liquid seemingly a bare inconvenience. He thanked the staff of the cafe, and departed quietly.

Fortune was, ironically, unfortunately on his side. Gilbert Griffin was not a hard man to find, given his garish attire and his choice of headgear. His considerable height may have assisted in the process as well. Beside him, next to his vehicle, was the second person on the list. Two birds, one stone, and he was the stone.

It seemed as if he was interrupting something as he neared them. Not that he cared- it was just a simple observation. He approached the two, understanding that finding two out of three of his marks was a convenience beyond providence’s work. Irene Alison would be someone else’s problem. “Whitney Choi. Gilbert Griffin. Angel Gauthier, peacekeeper,” he introduced himself simply, eschewing any pretense of niceties. “Your presence is requested at the administrative hall.” Angel’s boot shifted on the ground, a subtle movement, but an eye accustomed to such a slight change in posture meant that he was not going to take ‘no’ as an answer, and if it were posed as a question, then violence was his answer. Fifteen years had passed since their departure from the planet beneath them, and yet some people held on to their habits. People like Angel, in particular. “It would be prudent if you did not refuse.”

Sylvio AriAriAbabwa

 

[Inheritance]

Cyrus Metonia

SCENE:

May 22, 2185| Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Saturn_moon (Lenora), NeonArmageddon (Elena), morbidity (Penny) miki (Angie)

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Cyrus found himself inside the Last Drop with no way to escape. To be clear, there was a way to escape, but not one that didn't make him out to be a huge jackass. After Lenora had tactfully brushed him into the party he made a few polite excuses then slinked away to the bar. When was the last time he had seen festivity like this? The parties at the Capitol were much more serious and sophisticated; politically paramount but dreadfully dreary.

He almost wish he could cut loose and enjoy the place but...something didn't feel right. Was there an assassin here? A spy from Atlantis? There's no way so many people could just enjoy life here in this shitty little town...right? How did they find joy living here? Were there no ambitions or goals? Despite the cheer, Cyrus could hardly believe how much of a time waster this event was! He was new to the town and already could think of a few dozen things that could be done to improve their position here! The fact that this place hadn't been annihilated by abysslings already was astounding...

His brooding was cut off by the round of drinks that came his way; a warm welcome that would probably loosen him up a bit. He didn't mind drinking a bit here and there, especially when there was a social event he needed to attend. He knew he wouldn't be getting any type of drunk tonight, but a slight buzz would help make this party a little more bearable...that, and the prospect of worming his way into social circles. There had to be a hierarchy he hadn't found yet, secrets that the town was keeping from the military. The bartender would be a good place to start but the man didn't seem like the type to give information to the military over his fellow citizens....

Lenora? Probably not. It wasn't that he disliked her, in fact he had already warmed to her considerably, but she seemed to have a knack for getting more information out of him than he did her. That was dangerous. Or useful. He would need time to figure out how to make sure she was the latter.

What about the doctor? Cyrus had a feeling she was more interested in facts and logic rather than opinion. Surely she'd understand the state of the Earth and the importance of the government! Why would she hold a meaningless relationship to patients over the well-being of the entire world? Cyrus scanned the crowd for her, taking note of her position in the room. She was a doctor, and a talented one at that, so he knew she would probably dance circles around him if he tried to manipulate her using intellect. No, this required a much less tactical approach, one that was so crazy it just might work: Being friendly.

He weaved his way through the crowd to get to her, giving polite yet stoic nods to people as he passed. He didn't expect Elena to come out spewing information right away, if ever. Even if she didn't give him anything, having a talented medic on his side would be a huge bonus...besides, she was probably the least irritating here.

"Doctor Clairmont." Cyrus started with a half-bow. "Such a pleasure it is to meet you! I've heard many great things about you and your work!" His men didn't need to dig too hard for glowing reports on her- most of the townsfolk owed her their lives in one way or another.

"I am General Cyrus Metonia, but please call me Cyrus. I am anything but a military leader tonight!"

 

[Arai]

Eve Stern

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Excelsior Plaza

PARTICIPANTS:

Open

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Though as time pressed on it was harder to recall, Redemption Day was an event of two halves. On the one hand, there was the celebration in all mankind had achieved in such a small period of time, propelling themselves into the heavens and living in (relative) peace, ever grateful and aware of the lucky chance they had been given. Eve preferred to utilize the holiday's other purpose, to pay respects to those left behind.

Whenever she requested extra shifts on the day, her managers had always been surprised, no matter how many years now she'd been doing it. She had told them it was because she wasn't a party person, and that was true, she wasn't. But it was simply because she found it hard to celebrate and be grateful for luck when it was rigged in your favour. So she instead did odd maintence jobs here and there, and if she was able, avoided the Plaza's remberance garden. Though this year, she'd had no such luck.

She knelt across from the garden, occasionaly glancing up to watch the bright but horribly rehearsed show that Gilbert Griffin was putting on for some scattered folks. Eve had nothing against Gilbert (Engineers stick together) but he'd chosen showmanship while she was currently arm-deep in electrical cabling underneath the plaza's lighting grid. Still, his background noise was nice enough. And she was happy to take her time with this job, because she was pretty sure her boss had hidden all of the other tasks from her tablet to stop her working all day.

She felt her hand grip the broken wire she'd been looking for, and ripped it from it's socket as the ground began to shake. For a split second, Eve worried that it was her doing, but no faulty lighting grid could be connected to the station shaking. She frowned, steadying herself against the very pole she'd been repairing as it wobbled back and forth with a fervor. Though as quickly as it came, it subsided. Maintenace downstairs perhaps? Or something more ominous? At the very least, it seemed to get the Plaza's peacekeepers riled up, as she watched one of them move with purpose toward Gilbert's show.

 

[Saturn_moon]

The Narrator

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Atlantis

PARTICIPANTS:

Angel, Curtis, Easton, Eve, Gilbert, Irene, Whitney

HOPE IS A FLEETING THING

Quite a number of people have now gathered in Excelsior Plaza. Despite the peculiar quaking of the ground mere moments ago, most people have already brushed it off and returned to their regular programming. No harm done, right? But amongst the crowd, we are interested in just one of them. He's that middle-aged man wearing the navy blue jacket with the words 'ATLANTIS TECHNOLOGIES' embroidered in white on the back, standing off to the side of the stage upon which Gilbert Griffin had just been demonstrating his newest fantastical invention.

I figured it would be best for you to meet him now.

His name is Morrie and if you were to spend any time with him you would probably say he's a nice guy, a genuine sort of soul. His fellow engineers who work with him down in the Meridian Labyrinth would add that he's a hard worker and very good at what he does. Unfortunately, besides his colleagues, no one else actually knows what he does because he's not allowed to talk about it.

Morrie isn't too hung up about it though. He understands why he's not allowed to talk about it. That's the kind of person he is. Very understanding. While he will admit that it has been a challenge trying to find someone to settle down with - most of the people he has dated find it rather unnerving that he won't even speak a word about what he does at Atlantis Technologies - for the most part, it doesn't affect his daily life too much. He is a simple man content with a simple life. The fact that he managed to win a ticket to Atlantis was a miracle in itself. What more could he possibly ask for?

...

...

...

Actually, there are several things he might ask for at this moment. Firstly, a glass of ice cold water might be nice because boy oh boy is it getting hot in here! Did the thermostat break or something? Also, why is the floor suddenly turning? Is it another quake? Morrie looks around to see if anyone else is reacting and realizes it's just him. A hand comes to rest on his forearm. "Morrie? Are you okay? You don't look so good." The voice belongs to his date, Finn. Finn the barista. That's how they met.

Morrie wipes a hand across his forehead and it is slick with cold sweat. "Y-yeah. If it's okay with you, I might just head home first." Finn says something but he can't quite make out the words and instead just begins stumbling away from the crowd in the direction that he vaguely remembers home to be. He will find a way to make it up to Finn another day, but right now he just really wanted to lie down.

He doesn't make it very far before he bumps into someone. A girl? A boy? He's not quite sure. Morrie is a pretty large man, and normally like that would do more harm to the other person than to him, but this time the bump sends him falling to his knees. "Help... me..." He chokes out. It feels like there are hands around his neck stopping the air from entering his lungs.

Pain shoots through his entire body and everything feels like it is on fire. Suddenly, one of his legs twists and bends outwards drawing a guttural scream from Morrie that's really more of a howl.

The crowd is definitely noticing the commotion now and when they turn around, they no longer see Morrie. Instead, they come face to face with a monster that strikes fear in all their hearts.

They come face to face with an Abyssling.

gxxberkit
AriAriAbabwa simj26 Arai Sylvio Slav Damafaud​

 

[SkyGinge]

Robin Rodriguez

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

N/A for now

The Road to Nowhere

Outside the city, a lone silhouette staggered up the hilltop of the barren valley, his shadow long in the sundown glow. Before him, the sky erupted in a blaze of gold as the sun sank like crumbling coal beneath the horizon. Rays of light cut through the gaps in the city's ramshackle skyline where skyscrapers had once stood, dancing playfully off of the roofs of the shacks and hovels of the new world below.

What a perfect night to sit down and enjoy somebody else's lunch, Robin thought to himself with a grin. This was his world - he remembered saying that once. A world where nothing was out of reach, providing you were savvy enough to snatch it first, where the slum-land struggle had stretched out and devoured all other lifestyles like a ravenous swarm of locusts. A world ripe for the pinching.

Except now the only thing emptier than his pockets was his stomach. His hand sprung instinctively to the flask on his belt, though he knew full well there was nothing left. As if on cue, he felt his left leg buckle beneath him, the tools in his backpack jingling in disgruntlement as he stumbled - steadying himself with a grimace, he slapped his knee as if to tell it off.

"They can take my spirit, but they can't take my sense of humour, hey," he said aloud, perhaps in defiance, his rasping breath like sandpaper on his dry tongue. Forcing himself to stand, he took a few more tentative steps forward. In the corner of his eye the moon was rising, dim and misshapen in the sunset skyline like a cracked nightlight.

Eve. He couldn't help but think of her whenever the moon was clear - looking down, somehow, shaking her head as he pilfered pockets, yet encouraging him on with wide-eyed enthusiasm. What was she doing, up there in that faraway, fairytale world? And what would she think of him now? This was not Robin Prime, the dashing Hollywood rogue of the tales she'd had captured him with all those years ago. This was skin and bone man, hair wild as a vulture's plumage under his faded cap. You could practically play the xylophone on his ribcage.

He stumbled again - the other leg this time. C'mon cowboy, we haven't been walking for all this forever just to Grandpa our way into a ditch in the final chapter. He rose again, gaze locked on the neon mirage in front of him. Those lights meant people - people meant pockets, and pockets meant food at last. He trudged on, trying to fixate on the light of the tallest surviving building. He frowned - had it always been so blurry?

Hey, when did the floor get this clo-

~~~~~

He swam through dreams of chasing skies, leaping over faceless rooftops, an unknown enemy behind him.

"Morning, soldier," came a dry voice, and the foggy dreamscape faded like the tide. Robin's eyes fluttered open. He was faced with a cold, grey ceiling, cold grey walls. The walls surrounding him were likewise drab and monotonous. And the concrete he was lying on - surprise surprise - completed the bingo card of grey monotony. This ain't the wildness anymore, he realised, his thoughts blurry in his head like trapped air bubbles. He turned onto his side and attempted to rise, but a wave of nausea pushed him down again.

"Woah there," came another voice, this one nasal and snide. "Don't go moving too fast there, chief."

A bottle was thrust into his hands, and instinctively he drew it to his lips, sucking ferociously at the spout. It was water, but it may well have been liquid gold for how beautiful it tasted. He gulped it down with animalistic eagerness, craning his neck backwards to savour the final sips before throwing the bottle aside.

"Easy there, sport," came the second voice, "wouldn't want to drown yourself after all effort we spent lugging you here."

Closing his eyes, Robin forced himself to sit up, leaning against the wall as his thoughts caught up with him.

"Thanks," he managed.

"Just doing our job," said the nosebreather condescendingly.

His sense returning, Robin examined his surroundings. Behind the bars of the cell were two officers, both male. The first was crouched in front of the bars, his hair scruffy beneath his cap. The other (nosebreather) was leaning cross-armed against the far corner of the wall, his uniform pristine and his badge impeccably shiny. Feds - that tracks. It'd been a long time since he'd last encountered government officials - by his own designs, encounters with them in the wildness had been brief. But of course they'd still be here in New Oasis, holed up with their clipboards and their shiny badges, trying to maintain the last fulcrum of order from the old world.

"We found you collapsed a couple'a hundred yards from the city gate," said the first officer. "With no obvious wounds or signs of a struggle we figured you'd come into trouble on your own."

Robin smiled. "Guilty as charged."

"Well, we couldn't just leave you there. Lucky for you that one of the watchman saw you fall."

"I'm counting my blessings even now, officer. And this," - Robin gestured at the bars and the grim cell walls - "who am I to thank for this kind hospitality?"

"Better this than a dusty grave, sport," sneered Nosebreather, without making eye-contact. Robin couldn't help but chuckle at the man - he seemed like the kind of chap to expect praise for turning up to his own funeral.

"We're just keeping you in for provisional checks," continued the first officer. "Nothing outside of regulation."

"Oh sure," smiled Robin, shuffling against the wall. He felt naked without his pack, which he spotted laid out on the officer's table. "Any other provisions I can help you guys check? I see you've taken the liberty of emptying my pockets in advance."

"Quite the character, aren't you sport?" Nosebreather rose from his corner, strutting towards the bars. "You keep quite the party in that pack of yours, doncha."

"What can I say, one man's trash is another man's treasure. I trust everything's to your liking, officer?"

Nosebreather's sneer sharpened as he pulled a battered fire-arm from his pocket.

"Ah come on man," Robin protested, "you don't seriously expect me to survive out there without a weapon."

"Of course not. But you're in our world now, sport, and you're going to have to play our rules. So unless you've got some kind of licence hidden in that coat o' yours I'm going to have to keep hold of your toys."

"Including my Jetpack?"

"Especially the Jetpack," the officer gesticulated incredulously towards the table, where the battered husk of the professor's Robin's favourite gadget lay dismantled among the pile of other battered gadgets pilfered from his pack. At least the officers were too stupid to realise the value of the potentiality crystal shard that powered it. "City's got enough troubles without some maniac nobody flying about."

"More importantly," dismissed the first officer, "we were unable to find any kind of formal identification on you. No bio-data, no documentation, nothing."

"Ooh, mysterious!" Robin grinned. "Well, what's in a name anyway?"

"Look, between you and me, I think you're a lot more trouble than you're worth."

"Trouble, me? I'm nothing if not compliant, officer."

The first officer sighed, running a hand through his scruffy quiff. "You're friendly enough, for sure. But your complete lack of personal identification, coupled with being caught in possession of several firearms and multiple unidentified objects including that hell-knows-what thing makes you an administrative nightmare. I've half the mind to just let you go here and now."

"That sounds mutually beneficial to us both officer, yes please."

The officer chuckled joylessly. "Let's have the doctor give you another check-over and then we'll see."

"You're letting this nobody off?" scoffed the Nosebreather disapprovingly.

The officer shrugged. "We get new refugees every day, nobody's going to notice if one slips through the cracks. Don't suppose you can remember your name for us by the time we return?"

"I make no promises," said Robin. The officer returned his smile, shaking his head with world-weary resignation. Then, without wasting the time to say goodbye, he trudged off down the corridor, leaving Nosebreather, now obviously the junior officer, scrambling to follow him.

"Listen here sport," he sneered, "don't think you're fooling anyone with that happy-go-lucky cheer of yours. If it were up to me I'd have you court-marshalled on the spot for disrespect."

"Thanks for the feedback, officer," Robin smiled back. Snarling in frustration, the officer turned on his heels to follow his superior.

Well, they were surprisingly accommodating, Robin mused as he stroked the edge of the knife he had swiped from the officer's open pocket minutes ago. Now to decide whether to play along or not.

 

[gxxberkit]

EASTON

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Ground

PARTICIPANTS:

crowd

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Hopping over a fence, like a sheep being counted, there was nothing to feel. Moments after Easton hit the ground, however, the world shook. They almost lost balance, only catching themselves with their other foot. It only lasted seconds, but it was strange. His confusion traced his face, but he simply shrugged and moved on— just as the rest of the Atlanteans did.

If you asked Easton, a quake was bound to happen.

…

Easton stepped out of the shadows and into the crowd, pulling their hood up over their head. Her eyes scanned over the people, hoping to catch a glimpse of shimmering white hair. Their search was stopped short, however, as Easton came head-first into another person.

They fell back onto the ground, surprised as the large person came down with them. Her eyes scanned over the man with a look of concern. He didn’t look too well— didn’t sound too well, either, with that plea for help.

Easton stood, holding their hand out to help the man up, but their offer was met with a scream.

Suddenly, everyone was looking at them. The crowd’s eyes were on Easton and the creature in front of him.

I couldn’t say Easton saw anything at all. They were frozen, mind occupied with memories. In the split second the Abyssling was benign, Easton was, too.

Then, they came to their senses.

Was Easton too close to run? Easton didn’t have a way to hit the monster. If they didn’t run now, they’d be too close to run later. No more thinking, just act.

Easton’s foot hit the pavement.

They swiveled.

They ran into the crowd.

"Run!"

...

If you asked Easton, an Abyssling was bound to appear.

 

[morbidity]

CHARLIE LOVE

SCENE:

May 22, 2185| Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Saturn_moon OKORO AND LENNY, miki ANGIE for sure
Inheritance Cyrus NeonArmageddon Elena, in the background

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Charlie felt the crowd surge with the type of energy that was almost electric, swaying to the music as if enthralled. Sometimes he wondered about the old OLD, fables of sirens and witches, and if he too, was one, because tonight, Charlie was killing it. He couldn’t help but let himself get carried away every time he got onto the stage, the music feeding into the escapism he desperately craved for. Still, his eyes scanned everything. It wasn’t possible for him to fully disappear, not when danger lurked in every corner. So he used the stage view to his advantage, making sure to watch any stragglers and new folk.

There were a few he could point out, but his eyes kept focusing on the strange, but ruggedly handsome, man with an eyepatch and the aura that he didn’t truly want to be here. Not for the right reasons, anyhow. Usually, Charlie didn’t mind any newbies, as travelers were a constant in New Oasis. However, the fact that this man wore armor and had obviously seen active combat, irked Charlie. The number of people showing up, most being government officials, was not a good sign. It never was. Plus, the man came in after Penny did, and Papa hated strange men around his daughter. Owning the cabaret was always an adventure, that was for sure.

Charlie had already caught up enough with Okoro and Lenora earlier in the evening, and he knew that tomorrow they’d truly get down to business. Making sure to roll away his piano, Charlie cleared the stage for his ladies to dance and perform. They were already so highly trained, he didn’t need to worry about the quality of their work. Which was good, as he had other things to do than watch and nitpick. Gathering Penny with a single look(she knew her father well), Charlie started on his quest.

“Who was the man you and Lenny came in with earlier in the evening?” Charlie questioned, his tone low and somewhat to the rhythm of the music around them.

Penny lifted her eyebrow as she looked up to her dad, “So many men were helping us bring things in, I couldn’t possibly know who you are talking about.” Penny played. She knew exactly who Charlie was talking about, but loved to tease him constantly.

Charlie matched her energy, “You’re right. No one odd and inconspicuous came in. Also, that eyepatch? Why not something with a little more… Risky? Embroider some flowers onto that-”

“Not everyone is as extra as you, Dad,” Penny giggled, twirling one of the ribbons holding up her pigtails. “Also, I have no clue who he is. Lenny doesn’t seem to know much either. Probably just some mid-level soldier trying to build points with the big boys by coming to the danger-zone.”

It happened often. Folks from everywhere coming down to New Oasis to show off how strong and perseverant they are. That they aren’t like the others, and they too can fight off the fuckery that was known to this world. It often made Charlie laugh, but mostly, it made him mad. Living here wasn’t some test to him, it was home, and he’d make sure that people start treating it as such.

“Possibly. Guess I have to introduce myself then. Can’t have this person thinking we weren’t the friendly bunch, now can I?” Charlie gave her a sweet but knowing smile. It was time to dig.

Penny quickly nodded, about to move through the crowd towards the man. Before she could move however, the two of them were greeted by Okoro and Lenny with drinks, and soon enough, Angie fell behind.

“Seems I’m a bit late to the party. Would you mind introducing me to these intriguing
figures?”

Charlie let out a giggle as Penny jumped forward and wrapped her arms around Angie’s midsection. “Oh! Hi Ang! You don’t know Okoro or Lenny!? You’re missing out big! Lenora, Okoro, this is Angie. Another one of my many aunts. She takes me on drives all the time. She’s also-” Penny started to babble, her eyes filled with an eagerness for Angie and Lenora to meet. Charlie knew why, as Angie probably needed new parts and Lenora could definitely be that source. Still, before Charlie could cut her off, Penelope made sure to quiet her voice enough that only the four of them could hear. “She’s also even started collecting flora.”

Collecting flora was mostly just code for ‘potential client’. It meant that the person was trusted, and a known contact to Charlie and Penny. It was just one of the many ways they moved, knowing that many could not be trusted.

 

[NeonArmageddon]

Elena Clairmont

SCENE:

May 22, 2185| Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Inheritance (Cyrus), in the background
Saturn_moon (Lenora), morbidity (Charlie & Penny),
miki (Angie)

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

It didn't take long for Lenora to start convincing Elena to stay at the party, which, admittedly, wasn't that hard to do. The doctor came to the Last Drop for a drink and distraction in the first place, this just seemed like all the stars were aligned to support her choice, so Lenora didn't have to ask twice. In no time at all, Elena was at the bar with her glass full. She did make sure to drink responsibly, though, since she was still planning to return to her duties after the party was over, whenever that would be. As she sipped her drink, she couldn't help but scan the crowd, surprisingly big for this time of day. She was happy to see Angie among the guests, and most importantly, seemingly in one piece. It's not like they were close friends, but Elena did worry about the girl sometimes, knowing how much she liked to jump head-first into danger.

The others seemed to all be engaged in lively conversation, which the doctor didn't much feel like cutting into... all except one person, who Elena was surprised to see coming her way. She was a little surprised, that of all the people there, the general decided to chat her up, but she wasn't going to say "no" to some small talk... assuming that was all he wanted, which for some reason she had a hard time believing. It's not like she had something against the military, when they did their job and protected the innocent, she was more than happy to have them, their goals aligned. Problem is, that wasn't always their goal. And so, Elena went into the conversation cautiously optimistic, hoping Cyrus's intentions were genuine, but also fully prepared that she might be disappointed.

Hearing him introduce himself, she couldn't help to chuckle and shake her head a little. "This has to be the first time I've been greeted with a bow... no need to be so formal. As you say, you're not really here in the role of a general... and I'm not exactly tending to my doctorly duties either, so just Elena will be fine." she said with a smile.

"Although, I'm happy to hear that the work I do does not go unnoticed. Sometimes it feels like I'm barely making a dent in the problems we're all facing, it's a little reassuring to know people do see I'm doing what I can." her voice had a hint of sadness in it, but she kept up the smile as she spoke. She started gently trailing her finger over the rim of her glass. "Ah, but I don't want to pour my heart out to you like that when we've only just met... I certainly don't expect you approached me to hear about how hard it is here, I'm sure you've heard plenty of that... then again, you are new here, aren't you? Maybe you haven't heard that much of it yet." Elena thought out loud, and looked at Cyrus. She was actually kind of curious how things were outside of New Oasis, and Cyrus was one of the few people who actually knew... perhaps this could actually turn out to be quite an interesting conversation...

 

[Saturn_moon]

Lenora Ndiaye

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Angie, Charlie, Cole, Cyrus, Elena, Lenora, Robin

HOPE IS A FLEETING THING

"Flora you say?" Lenora responded with piqued curiosity. She looked over the younger woman standing before them. Her short dark hair stuck out in messy spikes and her clothes were patchworked galore. She had a vibe. It was a vibe that said she couldn't care less about how she looked even though she looked great whether or not she knew it.

"What did Penny say your name was again? Ang?" Lenora quickly waved down one of the servers and grabbed a glass of his tray, offering it out to Angie. "Penny tells me we might have some overlapping interests so I'd love to have a chat. This is hardly the place for it though. For now, enjoy the party!"

Leaving the group to her father to entertain, Lenora made her rounds, briefly stopping with anyone she even vaguely recognized to check in on how they were doing. The cabaret was not a massive space by any means but it took the woman almost thirty minutes to cross the room. When she finally sidled up next to Cole at the bar, her own glass was completely empty. "I'm surprised you made it. Thought I was going to have to pay the county jail a visit to be able to see you this evening."

She ordered two more drinks from the bartender and slid one over to Cole, clinking her own glass against it before taking a sip. "I see you haven't changed one bit in the time we've been away." She leaned in close, so close that onlookers might think they were intimate. They weren't of course. Lenora knew better. Cole's heart belonged to someone else and no matter what she tried, he would never waver. "I take it you aren't getting along with our new guests?" She glanced over her shoulder at Cyrus who was in the corner speaking with Elena. Her own conversation with Cyrus hadn't been bad but she definitely did not get as much information as she hoped she would be able to. It was evident the military had a greater purpose in coming to New Oasis. What it was exactly was uncertain.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I got you a gift." She reached into her pockets and pulled out a folded handkerchief. Carefully opening it up, she revealed a glowing blue crystal no bigger than the size of one's thumbnail. "Nicked it from one of the abandoned research laboratories we came across. We can finally try and fix up that weapon of yours." As she said this, she realized the Cruciform he was always lugging around was nowhere in sight. "Where is that weapon anyway?"

---

Beyond the sturdy gates of New Oasis, now continuously manned by guards, darkness had fallen. It surrounds the city, seeping into every crevice it finds. Yes, the darkness SEEPS. You see, the darkness here is unlike any darkness you might know. It is more than the absence of light, it is a physical presence. Almost like a fog. Enveloping. Suffocating. It settles over the desert landscape, draining the color from everything it touches. Besides giving pretty much everyone the heebie-jeebies, the darkness on its own isn't dangerous so to speak. It is what lurks within it. For the most part, the citizens of New Oasis have found ways to protect themselves from these dangers. A massive wall surrounds the town, rigged out with large, glaring spotlights capable of blinding anyone let alone an Abyssling sensitive to bright light. While they don't keep them on all the time, that would be an immense waste of resources they do not have, in a crunch, they can come in immensely handy.

It is important for us to note this because that crunch is now.

Gunning its way through the desert in the darkness is a motorbike. A very LOUD motorbike. Riding it is a scruffy, young, not quite a man but not quite a boy, with a satchel strapped across his back. He is absolutely terrified because trailing behind him just out of sight is a hoard of Abysslings. How does he know this? Mostly from the cacophony of high-pitched shrieks and clicks that reach his ears.

The gates of New Oasis are coming closer now and the rider begins screaming at the top of his lungs trying to get the guards to open the gates. They don't. Eventually, he can go no further and skids his bike to a stop. He runs up to the gate and begins banging frantically. "LET ME IN! LET ME IN!" He screams. He is almost in tears.

Inside The Last Drop, the festivities continue, unaware of the situation at the gates. That is until a guard comes barging through the doors. His eyes are wide and panicked as he searches the room before settling on Cyrus. "G-General." He stutters. "A-Abysslings. ABYSSLINGS HAVE BREACHED THE GATES."

Elenion Aura miki morbidity Inheritance NeonArmageddon SkyGinge​

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

Gilbert Griffin

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Atlantis

PARTICIPANTS:

Angel, Curtis, Easton, Gilbert, Irene, Whitney

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Behind the helmet, Gilbert blushed stupidly. Not only did the woman agree and calm down by the sound of things, but she called him handsome! There was something much more euphoric about being on the receiving end of such compliments. It was a good thing people couldn't see through the visor. "Alright, dudette! Come up on stage!"

Much to Whitney's fortune, however, she wouldn't get a chance to fly on a motorbike driven by Gilbert Griffin. Instead, two things happened. First, a rather blunt peacekeeper named Angel interrupted his shot. Apparently he was needed at the administrative hall; maybe Oliver James had grown a soft spot for Gwendolyn and wanted to hear more about her? "You got it, dude!"

The second thing was Morrie. Morrie was in the corner of Griffin's eye when he stumbled away with an unhealthy stumble. Gilbert didn't spare him too much thought—not until something about him changed. Where his peer once stood, he keeled over and emerged as an Abyssling.

The crowd screamed and rippled. Not even the charm of Gilbert Griffin overpowered the fear of death. "Holy bananarama! Someone do something!" he cried out. "Wait, I can do something!" Beside him, Gwendolyn stared at her father incredulously. He himself? How in Atlantis would he even combat that thing?! Gilbert noticed his daughter's look. In response, he walked over, kneeling to her height. He took his helmet off, only showing calm. "Don't worry, daddy will reach Morrie's soul through words and love. He turned into an Abyssling, and he can turn back!"

Her jaw dropped at his ludicrous confidence.

Gwen made a sputtering noise, but her father already ran towards the edge of the stage, towards the Abyssling. "Morrie! It's me, Gilbert Griffin! Yesterday we spent two hours in my lab talking about how marvelous my daughter is, and how she's the bestest thing to happen in the whole wide world! I know you're in there somewhere, and if you just try, you can take back control! I believe in you!"

In the meantime, Gwen undid a ribbon in her hair to throw it around the motorcycle's handle. Using all the strength in her 11-year-old body, she slowly aimed the bike in the monster's direction.

Sylvio simj26 Saturn_moon

 

[Inheritance]

Cyrus Metonia

SCENE:

May 22, 2185| Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Saturn_moon (Lenora), NeonArmageddon (Elena), morbidity (Penny) miki (Angie)

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

As he suspected, he was anything but disappointed with her response. Like Lenora, she seemed amused at his sense of formality (had everyone in this town forgotten chivalry?) but otherwise her insight and apparent devotion to her work shone through her words. The hint of despair when talking about the magnitude of the problems their world faced, the devotion to a seemingly impossible task. She sounded a bit like him when he first took up the role as General; the task of wresting control back from a divided world seemed about as likely as moving a mountain with a spoon. She did well enough hiding it, but Cyrus could recognize the feeling.

"You'd be surprised about how little people tell me. They see the uniform and clam up like they have something to hide...it's either that or I'm treated with something just outside the realm of scorn. Either way, I wouldn't mind citizens opening up to me a little." He paused for a moment to take a drink before sighing. "But I understand the feeling of hopelessness. We have a monumental task ahead of us and most people don't seem inclined to help. The only people that could possibly save Earth are the ones living here and it's people like you that give us a fighting chance. You're always welcome to come to me for anything, I'd be happy to help you with anything at my disposal...it's really a jpy to know someone else is- "

He was cut off by the messenger bursting through the doors with frantic cries about Abysslings...breaching the gates?!

It took mere seconds for his relaxed demeanor to fade; stone pushing the softness from his face and General Cyrus taking command. He quickly set his drink on the nearest table and shouldered his way too through the crowd towards the messenger.

"Alert any off duty soldiers and rally what forces we have. Send a message to the Capitol and prepare our defenses." He was calm, collected and in command. "Keep civilians indoors and get me a report of their numbers!"

And just like that he was out the doors and storming through the town watching his all-too-small unit ready themselves for a fight. They were well trained and decently equipped but Cyrus knew well the devastation a pack of these could cause. It was funny the doctor had spoken of a "small dent" in their bigger problems, because he was about to try and make a dent of his own. Whether or not his true motives were to secure this town, he would do everything he could to protect it...


It didn't take long for Cyrus to get to the horrid scene of the battle, screams of the dying becoming all too familiar to his ears. He swiftly began barking orders in the hopes he could restore some order; this town would not fall today if he had anything to say about it.

"Form a perimeter! Do NOT let any of those creatures past!" It was a near impossible task, but his men were trained well. They would accomplish their mission or die trying. Pulling out his own weapon and aiming with the precision of a trained military leader, he fired a few shots into the eyes of a duo of abysslings that were causing particular harm to a unit. Firing shots into their eyes had become a joy of his after he had lost one of his own.

"I want men on turrets and defenses but keep a light watch around the town. We cannot be flanked!" He snarled as he watched his subordinates hurry away to carry out his command. He had no time to think about how flimsy the gate had been or how quickly the initial defenses had been brushed aside. Now was the time for action, and in the case of all Abysslings, was the time for revenge.

 

[Arai]

Eve Stern

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Excelsior Plaza

PARTICIPANTS:

Whitney, Gilbert, Easton

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Eve missed the transformation, her only clue that anything was wrong was a growing fearful murmuring in the square, until a gutteral mourning howl rang out into the plaza, and she felt her hair stand on end. She'd seen an abyssling before, but tht was in a lab, and it was dead. The thing still had her sleeping in her parent's room for days afterwards, trying to get over the creature she'd seen. This one was no less horrifying, though Eve was at least a little older and could understand what she was looking at.

Fundamentally, it was human. A warped human, but a human nonetheless. And humans were easily killed. She reached for her hip and...ah. Her pistol was sat in her apartment, next to a box of bobby pins and a roll of tape. She could picture exactly where she had put it, which made it all the more frustrating she elected not to carry it by default. Focus on what you can do, not what you can't. She heard a voice call out to run, but the people outside the plaza needed warning of what was happening.

Without a gun, the best she could do was stun the thing with her monowire. And there was no guarantee it would work. The plaza likely had lookdown procedures, and currently the people outside the plaza had no idea what was happening. Warn them, that was in her wheelhouse. Eve turned, her work discarded, and ran across the plaza. There should be a relay terminal in the square to signal an alert, and the place would be popular with peacekeepers in minutes. Easy peasy. She leapt over the memorial garden's wall, and briefly crossed paths with Whitney again. It looked like Gilbert was trying to coax the creature to turn back, but Eve wasn't dumb enough to save him from his own stupidity. "There's a terminal on the far side of the plaza, I can send the signal to PKHQ but I'll need some help getting to it!" She called out as she ran, hoping someone would hear and assist.

 

[Slav]

Curtis Merrill

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Atlantis: Excelsior Plaza

PARTICIPANTS:

Angel, Curtis, Easton, Gilbert, Irene, Whitney

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Despite his focus being on the mission ahead of him, his ears easily caught the sound of the commotion in the distance. This was different than the commotion before. He could hear the screams, shear dread dripping from the voices in the distance. This wasn't because of the shaking that had just occurred. It was something else, something that he couldn't quite figure out at this distance. He didn't plan on figuring it out just yet. "It seems like you might be one of the lucky ones." He said, nonchalantly taking another drag from his cigarette. He wasn't going to let the chaos interfere with his mission. Irene was going to the council, there was no debate.

His gaze didn't shift from his goal even as other peacekeepers hurried past him. "Just a normal day." He joked, though there was no smile on his face. This was anything but a normal day and that fact was something he wasn't used to. With the pampering this city did, anything out of the ordinary was big news but this wasn't just different. It was an abnormality that grinded against his current sensibility. He couldn't make sense of it but at the end of the day, none of it mattered. His duties mattered the most, the only thing he thought about on a daily basis. Even an abnormal day couldn't change the organic machine operating inside his head.

It wasn't long before they reached the doors of the council, Curt holding the door open. He didn't consider himself a gentleman, but holding the door open was common decency. Even after the pair entered the building he continued to draw on his cigarette. You weren't supposed to smoke inside but on a day like this, who was going to stop him? Even the people inside the council building were hurriedly rushing, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "They must have seen a ghost." He lowered his hand to rest on his holster, becoming increasingly cautious.

"To be honest, I don't know what they want with you. I'm just doing my job." He wasn't going to pretend that he knew all the answers, he only knew his mission. He gripped his lance tight for a few moments, assessing the situation before them. He was missing too much information to even make an educated guess. His opinions would be conjecture at this point though he didn't mind that too much. The less he knew, the less burden was put on him. Sometimes it was good to be kept out of the loop and he wasn't sure if this was one of those times.

( Damafaud )

 

[simj26]

Angel Gauthier

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Excelsior Plaza, Atlantis

PARTICIPANTS:

N/A

Mieux vaut être seul que mal accompagné

“What…?” He placed himself in between the civilians and the newly born Abyssling, one hand stretched out to shield them and the other already having drawn his firearm. “Stay back!” No comms on his body right now. He trusted someone else would call in other Peacekeepers for him while he handled the situation as best as he could. He didn’t think his sparse amount of ammunition was going to put this creature down now. “Get out of here n–”

He was interrupted when Griffin sprinted past him towards the creature. “Hey! Get back h– damn it!” He turned towards the others with him. “Get out of here, right now!” he ordered, as his free hand occupied itself now with his knife.

What was the idiot trying to do? Once someone had been taken by the curse, there was no turning back, in every sense possible. Even if they could, what was the point? They would be forever branded as a monster, and would be put to death either way. Or dropped straight back to Earth for them to handle. Neither of these options were a good one. The best one at hand right now, was to end its miserable life here and now. He sprinted forwards, and shoved Gilbert out of the way of the Abyssling.

“Griffin, move! NOW!” Bracing his firearm, he fired three shots straight at the Abyssling’s head, or where one was supposed to be.

Sylvio AriAriAbabwa

 

[Damafaud]

Irene Alison

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Atlantis: Excelsior Plaza

PARTICIPANTS:

Irene, Curtis | Easton, Gilbert, Angel, Whitney

HOPE IS A FLEETING THING

The artificial light glossed off her furrowed and trimmed brows. Lucky, Curtis said and perhaps she was, but her mother still sipped her coffee in the plaza. Mere seconds passed before her device rang with the a familiar jingle; the ringtone she set for her mother's line. Irene opened the messages. As they loaded, however, what worry she had inside froze.

"An... Abyssling," she muttered in disbelief. Irene tilted the device toward Curtis. Her mother had sent a video. The counter took half of the lower frame. Beyond the window, prowling with inhuman and disproportionate limbs, was a nightmare Irene thought they had left on Earth.

She faced Curtis. "I have already arrived at the administrative hall. Can you return to the Plaza and ensure the safety of civilians there?" Irene paused before she added, "and my mother."

No, she had confidence on the guards capability to solve the matter, but it was better to remain on the safer side. She gazed at the stoic faced guard and wondered if she had been too hasty. Strict to his job, a model guard that ask no questions and never did the unnecessary. If he refused here, she wasn't sure she had anything that could move him.

tag: Slav

 

[Elenion Aura]

Cole Morrow

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Angie, Charlie, Cole, Cyrus, Elena, Lenora, Marion

HOPE IS A FLEETING THING

Cole snored loudly. Lucky for him the inside of the cabaret was louder still. It was miraculous enough that he'd managed to fall asleep at all amidst the din of all the drinkers and dancers and the blaring music of the club. But to not even spill his drink, which remained held aloft in his hand even as the rest of him—head, shoulders and all—slumped down onto the polished wood of the bartop.

Only the sound of a familiar voice, or perhaps the anticipation of that sound (since he seemed to stir slightly before her arrival, as if trying to pass off that he'd been awake and conscious the whole time), could rouse him from his deep, deep slumber. He sat back on his stool and wiped a stray line of drool from the corner of his mouth before downing the remaining contents of his stale ale in time for Lenora to present him with another.

He acted like nothing amiss had happened. And perhaps nothing had? Sure as daylight, this place had seen its fair share of sloshed up slumberers in its day... At t he mention of the jail cell that he'd spent a fair bit of his afternoon, Cole bristled. He made a noise of indignation. Caught somewhere between a scoff and a snort.

"Those pricks got off easy."

At her line about the evident fact that he never seemed to change, Cole found himself agreeing. These past few years, he'd realized, he had begun to feel almost like he'd gotten stuck in a loop somehow, trapped in a void where time never moved forward, like some error had occurred in his past that prevented him from moving forward, moving on. He grumbled. Something about old dogs and new tricks. Eager to move on from the subject, he jumped at the next life preserver he could.

"What's the line this time?" He asked between sips, eyeing the star-spangled man chewing the scenery, chatting up the doctor. Cole had been around. Cole had seen this song and dance before. There was always a line. There was always an angle. Somebody was schemin', somebody else had cooked somethin' up somewhere far, far away, and through the trickle-down economics of 'fucked', that somethin' had made its way here.

At the sight of the crystal, Cole's eyes flickered to life, even more than they had at the word gift. He perked up at this, only to be instantly reminded of the latest in a long string of annoying occurrences. He groaned. "That old hack 'cross town swindled me." He was about to say more when all Hell broke loose.


Abysslings. He'd face those slimey, gooey freaks before. Instinct told him to grab Mercy and rush out to face them head-on. Instinct, unfortunately, had a shit memory and so when his fingers grasped empty air, Cole felt his stomach bottom out... To make matters worse, Mister Amestria had already leapt into action. Bastard, he stewed, cursing both the General for his decisiveness, and himself for an apparent lack thereof. The way Cole saw it, he could either hoof it to the Doc's and grab his gear, by which point the town might've been overrun, or he could go to the gate now, weaponless. Neither option felt particularly good... And the longer he took deciding, the more people those black, beady-eyed mutants eviscerated.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

 

[Slav]

Curtis Merrill

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Atlantis: Excelsior Plaza

PARTICIPANTS:

Angel, Curtis, Easton, Gilbert, Irene, Whitney

Hope is a Fleeting Thing

Curtis analyzed what he was seeing, his face showing no changes in emotion. He was mildly surprised to the see the monstrosity but it didn't sway him. The appearance of the monster certainly wasn't good but it was something that could be dealt with. They were tough creatures but not unkillable. The arrival of the Abyssling didn't change his mission and he wanted to make that clear. "Certainly a mess but one that can be dealt with. There are other peacekeepers who are just as capable as me. If they are unable to bring it down, then I'd lend my own hand to help. Until then, I'm continuing on with my mission." Even if his fellow peacekeepers were struck down, he may not intervene. It would be imperative that he defend the council at that point.

"Your mother has a good head on her shoulders, she will be fine. I'm sure she'd want me to keep you as far as possible from that thing." Curtis wasn't good at comforting people and it didn't seem like Irene really needed it. He just thought a situation like this warranted some words of assurance. He didn't know how a creature like an Abyssling made it into Atlantis but the development was a rather perplexing problem.

"Come on, let's get moving." Curtis led them further into the building, voices slowly dwindling behind them. Eventually, the only sounds that were being made were from his boots and Irene's shoes. This area of the building lacked chaos, something that he cherished. It didn't take them long to arrive to a door, one that was rather large. If you had an inkling of intelligence, you could tell something important was behind the door. "We have arrived, the realms of the real monsters lay beyond this door." Curtis said, referring to the council in a not so positive light. They operated differently from himself, detesting their selfishness. That's why he was on edge from the beginning. You never knew what they were planning.

( Damafaud )

 

[Saturn_moon]

Lenora Ndiaye

SCENE:

May 22, 2185 | Arc 1 [Hope is a Fleeting Thing]

LOCATION:

Amestria, New Oasis

PARTICIPANTS:

Angie, Charlie, Cole, Cyrus, Elena, Lenora, Robin

HOPE IS A FLEETING THING

Cyrus was out the door before Lenora could even fully comprehend the situation that had unfolded before them. Downing the rest of her drink in one gulp, she quietly walked behind the bar and pulled a massive trunk out from under the counter. "My apologies, Sherman. I hope you don't mind me intruding on your space just for a bit." Sherman, the bartender who had been in the middle of polishing a glass when the soldier ran in, had turned white as a sheet and could only nod dumbly.

In one swift motion, she unlocked the trunk and flipped the lid open to reveal an arsenal of firearms. Cyrus had ordered all the civillians to be kept indoors but who did he think had been protecting New Oasis before the military arrived? Their Fairy Godmother? There was no way Lenora was going to sit back and watch her home get ravaged by Abysslings.

Grabbing the first gun at the top, she tossed it over to Cole. "If you break it, you pay for it." Strapped to the lid of the trunk was Lenora's personal and favourite gun. A 28-inch double barreled shotgun with a fine, polished walnut stock. Looking over to Charlie before stepping out into the night, she said firmly. "If things get bad out there, lock this place down and get yourself out of here."

---

Down by the gates it was worse then Lenora had imagined. The large metal gates were barely hanging on by the hinges and were heavily dented and shredded. A quick scan of the chaos, Lenora could make out about seven or so Abysslings tearing through the forces that were trying to hold them back. A distinct metallic scent wafted up to her with the cool evening breeze. Whether from gunpowder or blood she didn't really want to know.

Hoisting the gun up to her cheek, she let muscle memory take over. She had down this a hundred times over and every movement felt as natural as walking. There was no reason for her to fuck this up. Aim, deep breath, and...

"BANG!"

Inheritance Elenion Aura NeonArmageddon morbidity miki SkyGinge​