multiversallogs | Mission Gamma

Entry tags:

Mission Gamma

Who: List forthcoming.
What: Getting a bottle of fog.
Where: The edge of town.
When: NOW. This thread will likely cover a few days.
Warnings: To be updated.

Dear Mission Gamma,

You are about to embark on a journey that you will remember forever. Take that as you will. Your gods require you to collect a bottle of fog and bring it back to the Temple. Not just any condensation either, it has to be from the fog around the City. You know, the stuff full of unnameable terrors and visions beyond the abyss. I'm sure you're all very eager to get started on your trip so I will leave you with this:

GOOD LUCK OUT THERE. Don't get too lost.

Oh, and some boons apparently to help you on your quest;

A Fog Traverser - It's a vehicle! It has tracks and wheels, how about that. Those fogtraders sure think of everything. I am told it will fit five people of average size comfortable and about fifteen of the uncomfortably. It has a large storage compartment, and it is covered in mirror glass and weird little wards. Oh, and most useful; it has a mounted compass that will point back to Baedal's centre!

Two Flare Guns - These are actually on the traverser, but I figured I should give them a special mention. Actually the guns aren't important, the flares are. There will be about eight (8) that provide a guiding light for the lost, six (6) which when they burn their light will reveal the true nature of things, and two (2) that can be used to call for help.

A Bottle - Gotta collect that fog in something, right? No old pickle-jars will do for this.

One can step into the fog surrounding Baedal anywhere outside of the City, but to bring fog back into the City one needs a plan. One also needs material; a bottle that will take fog for one and also some magic ritual or trick that would trap the fog.

Mystics, magicians or fogtraders consulted may suggest that the best chance of gathering fog would be to head into a bank where the fog is the thickest. They may warn such parties that the fog may bring out terrors and fears, monsters both imagined and real. They will advise against going alone and offer charms or prayers for a modest fee. They will also suggest telling loved ones in the City to not let them near when and if they return unless they can answer some previously agreed on question. Knowing what steps into the fog is not knowing what will step out of it.

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Sonja arrives at Mog Hill (accompanied by Ilde) in pretty swift time, and there, she rereads the message she received. A vehicle, flare guns, and a bottle hardly constitute an impressive itinerary, and her expression twists wryly when she reads what provisions she's been given.

She's done more with less, and at least she's heavily armed. It came in pretty damn handy last time they left the city center.

For now, she waits, and plans.

Billy is slightly disconcerted by the message - new in town, and already recruited - but he didn't exactly make it a secret that he's a superhero when he arrived, either, and this is just the sort of potentially terrifying quest that heroes get recruited for. Granted, the Young Avengers tend to more or less stumble into things rather than get recruited, but there's something about this that satisfies his inner geek. And he's not about to turn down a mission that will not only help find a cure for the infected people he'd seen milling around the streets like oddly productive zombies when he looked out the window earlier, but also be able to send a message home - to let his friends know he's in some other dimension. That has a value he can't put into words, but it starts with not letting Magneto invade Latveria on the grounds of Doom having him captive and involves Teddy not maiming people out of worry (as hot as that is), so. Yeah, a valuable thing.

Figuring that the wards on the temple might mess with his magic, he flies to a nearby street and then heads inside on foot from there, all kitted up in his uniform and with his staff in hand. And then he's just... going to look around until he finds the people with the magic bottle.

Remembering vividly what happened last time she shot a gun in the fog, Ilde has one of the knives she's since acquired in Baedal itself on her when she accompanies Sonja to the temple. Very likely, she'd have followed her regardless of which group she had or had not been summoned to, so it suits that this is the way things begin. At least they're not walking into the fog blind to what it's like out there.

She's read and reread the message as well, and when Billy arrives she's dissolving her glamour; it'll be concentration she won't want to spare once they set out.

Lex is a little surprised that he was recruited for this mission by anyone. It's not that he doesn't have his own skills to bring to the table, but as an employee of the agrisci sector, a large part of his job has included making certain the food of the city is safe for its citizens to eat after the various infestations.

He arrives at the temple equipped with the knife and single handed crossbow he had purchases the day he met Sonja. Somehow it seems entirely appropriate that she's there - but with Ilde? Interesting. He gives them both a nod of acknowledgement and turns his attention to the stranger who is wearing... something. He hides his judgement under a small smile of greeting and addresses the young man.

"Lex Luthor. I don't believe we've met."

It isn't too hard to tell by watching for a moment that the others all seem to know each other already, at least a little - although that thought is a touch derailed by Ilde's slow change in appearance as she drops her glamour, something that Billy can vaguely feel happening as well. Another magic user - Jones wasn't kidding about them being more populous here.

He's snapped out of that reflection by Lex's greeting, and smiles back a little awkwardly. "Um, hi, I'm Wiccan - codename, not religion," he supplies quickly. If he'd known everyone was going to be in civilian gear (and well-dressed, he notes, in Lex's case)... well, no, he still would have shown up like this, honestly. Superhero reflex. "I'm pretty new here."

In fairness, Sonja's streetwear rivals some costumes -- at the very least, it contains a lot of leather. And weaponry. She considers Billy (oh, he's twelve, okay, fine) briefly, and acknowledges Lex with a nod.

"Sonja. Ilde and I have been in the fog before. I'll wait until we're sure everyone's here to get things settled, but you need to know it's a hell of a lot worse out there than it's ever been here in town. There's no rescue and there's no comms. If somebody starts trying to pull power plays or distract us from the mission with a bunch of irrelevant bullshit, I leave them out there."

She's not asking if that's cool, FYI. "You all know how to play on a team?"

Max arrived on the scene dressed in a fair amount of leather herself (okay, just a jacket, gloves, and boots), but no weaponry. She's probably going to get chewed out for going in unprepared, but she feels less comfortable with a weapon than she does without, and if one's really needed she can always improvise.

"I make a good point guard," she says as she comes in front of Sonja, having approached the group from behind. She takes a look at the assembled group; Ilde is the only one she's met in person before. "Did I miss anything big?"

Edited 2011-07-18 03:43 (UTC)

Mabel comes equipped, with a holstered gun and a sheathed hunting knife on either side of loose camo pants, long sleeves and a high collar under a protectively padded vest with plenty of filled pockets. She's wearing a small backpack containing a few more knives, some chalk, matches, spare paper, and (decided on at the last moment) a metal baton she could extend.

Don't let anybody say she was under-prepared.

"I've got experience with freaky fog shit before, though not here," she says, catching snatches of the conversation as she walks up. No one, not Ilde or Billy, get s second glance. "I've also got pretty good eyes and I'll do whatever you need." She nods toward Sonja. "I'll be your Hellsing representative of the day."

Jones staggers in, maybe the plainest-dressed of the bunch, and looking rather harried. She's been trying to avoid the infected, with varying measures of success; arriving at the temple is a relief, although there's a little trepidation in her face. She's newly-arrived, after all, and a devout Catholic by her own definition; she's not really sure how she feels about gods that actually show up and meddle.

Somewhat conspicuously, she's not carrying any weaponry, although one could suppose there's something in that heavy-looking bag she's carrying. Maybe.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting at all," she says, once she catches her breath. "I'm Jones, if there's anyone I haven't met here—presuming you're the rest of Gamma."

She pauses a moment; she caught most of what Mabel said, and figures she ought to introduce her skills. Which is a little awkward; she's not used to announcing them outright to near-strangers. "I'll warn you in advance that I'm not much of a fighter, myself, but I suspect the reason, erm, Ceith recruited me is my magical expertise." She shifts, a little nervously. This does not come naturally to someone so trained in secrecy. "I'm also a decent lookout and I can repair equipment if we need it."

Oh hey, it's someone he's talked to at all before, that's kind of a relief. As nice as it is meeting new people and... setting off to kill monsters with them. And as much as he's really only spoken to Jones once before - okay, back to slightly confused, if amiable, awkwardness it is.

"I'm used to working as part of a team of superheroes back home," adding that they're all about as young as he is and still sort of in training (if anyone ever gave them training, that is) doesn't seem like the sort of thing to inspire confidence, so he'll skip that. "I do magic, and I mainly use it for fighting - although not fighting fog monsters, specifically, that's a new one - and transport, and stuff like that."

Mabel gets a second glance from Ilde's big near-black eyes, though, on the subject of being their Hellsing rep; interesting. She's probably slightly more surprised than Lex is about his being there, admittedly, but Max is good to see and the others...are presumably here for the reason of 'magic', judging by their explanations.

"I'm half-deaf above water," she says, matter of fact, from where she's standing slightly to the side of Sonja. "If I can't see your face, I probably can't hear you. Grab me if you need to." Not that that's her preferred method of communication, but given the circumstances - she'll avoid stabbing anyone in the knee on reflex for doing it. (...yes.)

It's better to get that clear before they go into the fog, and it also gives her something to say that isn't repeating 'superheroes' in polite disbelief.

"Otherwise, I'm a naiad, illusions are my better skill, and I have a large knife." Good enough? Good enough.

Lex has heard stories about the fog and though he is an intensely curious person, especially for places where he's been told not to go. However, he's also smart enough to know that certain things need assessing before jumping in. Jumping into the fog by himself with no idea what to expect other than the vague idea of 'bad' would have been idiotic.

He's wearing dark gray trousers, a plain long sleeved shirt and sturdy boots. It's not the usual shirt and tie combination, he has plenty of clothes that he's been wearing for the restoration project, but they are noticeably more expensive than the usual variety of work clothes. You work with what you've got.

The knife is tucked away but Lex lifts the crossbow as long as they're sharing. "I have plenty of experience with weaponry, but if I had to guess why I'm here, I'd say it's because of the truck. Vehicles are kind of a passion of mine."

He makes no mention of being human or having no magical capabilities. The omission alone should make it obvious enough. If he was indeed brought here to play truck driver, Lex had to hand it to the gods for their sense of irony.

Anna can't depart until evening, but as soon as the sun's rays disappear beneath the horizon she makes her way to the temple.

She arrives outside at about the right time to hear "I'm a naiad," so by the time she steps inside her interest is piqued. Or the Huntress's is, rather -- and she keeps reminding herself that those are different things, different thoughts.

Still, another fae? She thought Nuala had mentioned something, when she first came to the city, about there being more of...her kind. (It feels strange, now, to think of it that way: to think of herself as one of them, after the unnatural horrors she had seen them inflict. Had seen the Huntress inflict, before she became the Huntress.)

As she steps inside, dressed in the men's-style button-up shirt and rolled up pants that typically represent her attempt at work-wear (with a pair of leather boots "borrowed" from Mina for good measure), Anna scans the faces in the group she supposes constitutes her team. (Team Gamma, was it? That short-haired young woman surely had a lot of nerve to claim this kind of authority... but, well, if she truly was in charge around here, Anna wasn't about to dispute it. Those in command had a way of being there for a reason.) She is fairly certain that she recognizes Mabel, at least, from Nuala's briefing, though isn't sure the other woman has been told to expect her.

No predator's taint: no vampires. Just the mage -- though Jones, at least, is a pleasant surprise. And there's the other fae, the naiad. She is strange and frightening. And perfect and beautiful, and already Anna is letting her own glamour peel away from her skin.
She smiles at Jones, looking more confident than she feels.

The bald young man finishes his summary, and Anna concludes it to be her turn to justify being here.

"I'm Anna," she says simply. Even with the glamour gone, she isn't as inhuman-looking as Ilde, but there is lightning in her hair, and occasionally sparking over her skin. "I am good with people -- with shifting their emotions, so that they are more cooperative. But I suspect that the main reason I am here is because of...this." She gestures vaguely at the lightning (obviously supernatural in nature, to anyone who knows how to look). "And I'm a fair hand at manipulating fogs of a less...Baedal variety, if we need a buffer against that stuff."

Sonja listens to the rollcall that goes on -- she's glad they seem to fall into line and habit, and her body language, as she stands there, is still that of El Generale; hers is the kind of assertiveness that suggests she never even contemplated surrendering the role of leadership.

'Friendly' is not really the word anyone uses to describe her. Her own magical aura is not something she generally conceals, but it is its own unique breed, native to her world and no other: a little demonic, a little witchy, and a sliver of unreality at the edges. That sliver is, for the record, not wholly different to the spaced-out far-flung emptiness you'll find in the fog, the white nothingness at the edges of living night.

(One day she'll have to punch Lucas in the face for changing her that way.)

"All right. Sonja, like I said; I kill things." She smiles, brief and a little brusque. "We're going to need two task forces when we're out in the field. Most of you are going to be preoccupied with the assorted things that want to eat us or have answers that we need. The rest of you will be busy putting fog in a bottle magically which, I trust you realize by now, will be harder than it sounds. Your powers will be dampened in some pockets of the fog, so if you have one or two tricks you like to rely on? Be prepared to broaden your horizons. As for the fog bottling, I can do that myself, but it's more practical if I run the field, since we've got some other competent magic-users here. If you need a weapon, I can supply one. Lex, you will, in fact, be driving. Glad you brought that bow."

She estimates they'll have a couple more additions to the group.

"Do we know how many more we're expecting?" says Jones, with a nod toward Sonja and a brief smile toward Anna; while she and the latter have their differences, she's likewise comforted to see a familiar face and a past comrade in arms here. "Ms., er, Ceith seemed to have a certain sense of urgency in her commissions."

"Us two, at least," says Balthier, approaching the group of people, having only caught that last inquiry. He's dressed as he ever is, light armor not of Earth, fully equipped. (Like you do.) Accompanying him is a brown-haired woman who holds herself just as aristocratic - or perhaps more - equally armored. He holds one hand up in greeting, brief. "Apologies for the delay, we ran into a bit of a roadblock and decided against risking infection for speed.

"We can be caught up on the way - if we need to go, let's get moving." He nods to Sonja and Ilde. Hello, ladies.

Ashelia - Amalia, she has to keep reminding herself - stops beside Balthier, examining their companions with a critical eye. She doesn't even try and hide it. If she's going to be risking her life for these people, she figures she has every right to make snap judgments. As far as she can see, at least she can Balthier will make it back for sure.

"Greetings. I am Amalia, and this is my...my partner, Balthier." The pause there is barely noticeable, but she can't help but stumble over those particular words. "Shall we?"

"Hi - if that's all of us, we should get moving. And be on the look out for... some kind of truck." He has no idea what a Fog Traverser looks like in real terms, but with tracks, wheels and mounted flare guns, it should be fairly obvious. And he's quietly relieved that there are just a couple more of them - Amalia and Balthier look capable. They look like they've just walked out of some fantasy adventure painting, in fact, which probably makes them very capable of handling a quest against unknown monsters, and makes Billy feel like his costume is a touch inadequate, but he likes it, damn it.

As they head outside, it becomes pretty clear that it doesn't matter if no-one knows what a Fog Traverser looks like, precisely - it's distinct enough to stand out, where it's parked handily right by the temple. God given vehicle, and with convenience in mind, it seems. "I'm guessing that's the truck." Billy supplies, stating the obvious as he approaches the sturdy-looking vehicle.

Sonja doesn't say anything when the others arrive--in these circumstances she's not given to unnecessary chatting--but she nods toward Balthier (and resists making any comments about how they won't find any eels this go round) and Amalia before moving toward the truck. Which she climbs into--shotgun, naturally--while casting an expectant glance over her shoulder toward the others.

Vehicles aren't exactly common in Baedal, and ones like this are particularly rare. She wonders if she can wrangle a way to keep it afterward.

Ilde is promptly up and in behind Sonja - a matched set but not what you might call an equal partnership, it's pretty clear pretty quickly who leads and who follows in this relationship. Short of the sheathed knife she's openly carrying, though, she could just as easily be out for a casual afternoon in leggings and a belted sweater-dress.

Then again, she is an unknown monster to some, so maybe anything more elaborate would just be gilding the mildly distressing lily.

"No eels," she remarks over her shoulder to Balthier, because somebody had to.

"Don't tempt the fog, I've seen things out there just as creative," he remarks, dry, and then goes to peer at the controls. He doesn't bother saying anything, though, and just hops in after - his disdain for gods won't be useful at the moment. Not out loud, anyway, and he decides to keep his irritation at everything to himself for now.

[ ooc: ~Amalia~ won't tag back in until late tonight or tomorrow so just assume she's with Balthier. o/ ]

Max who totally said what she can do if not exactly what she is some time before now, in case you missed it she's awesome at hand-to-hand and can fight pretty well with a knife but don't try giving her a gun because she won't use it nods to Balthier as he approaches, recognizing him from the time they encountered the slugs or whatever it was they were and steps up, closer to the truck. There's an expression of grim determination on her face, refusal to show any fear despite what's being said about what they're heading into. She's not wasting fear before she needs it.

"Let's get this bitch over with."

There are a lot of badass ladies in this group, and Billy has a moment of missing Kate - if she were here, maybe she would have been invited to this group, she would have fit right in. (Well, apart from the killing. ... Probably. They only only killed Kang, that one time, and that was Iron Lad.) He shakes his head - concentrate, Kaplan - and climbs into the back of the truck, finding himself somewhere to sit.

"Eels?" Conversational curiousity.

"Define creative." Mabel was surveying the scene with a frown. Truth be told, she was still used to the whole 'team' idea and trying to manage working with more than two people at a time was going to be a hassle.

What worried her, though, was how many of them were there. Combine that with fog you could easily lose someone in and who the hell knows, and they had a disaster in making. Throwing a random group of people together didn't exactly spell cohesion.

Ashelia follows Balthier into the vehicle, staying silent except for a quite, "Hmph," choosing to listen to her companions. Her quietness has less to do with learning all she can about everyone by listening to them. It's more to do with the fact that she's been thrust into this team dynamic and she still isn't quite sure who Amalia is yet. Is she aloof? That sort complimented Balthier's personality well, but her life didn't revolve around him. Her words on the Bahamut came back to her. I am simply myself. No more and no less. And I want only to be free.

What is she even doing?

So she just rests one hand on the pommel of her sword, leaning on an arm rest and crossing her legs languidly. If nothing else, she can maybe inspire some confidence in her companions by acting in such a manner.

Jones hops into the back, herself, and immediately begins rifling through her kit. If they're going to be moving out soon, it would be a good idea to start preparing some things.

First, the Sight, for herself; it sounds like it'll be necessary to be able to tell the real from the unreal here. And then—for Anna, for Ilde, and for Sonja, who seem like they'll be on the front lines, a spell of protection that should help ward against damage to their persons.

She'll save her last couple active spells for an emergency...

"Creative like looking into your head and pulling out what you're afraid of." Oh. "I've worked for the guild that goes out there hunting for bleed-through materials since our little trip out over the ocean, thus I've been out in it a few times. It's a bit of a headache."

That sounds like putting it lightly (it is), and Balthier situates himself in a position where he can function as something akin to a lookout. "I'm certain if I say that the worst of it will come from your own head, we'll run into some physical thing that'll half-maim the whole of us, and so on with the reverse."

Lex straps the crossbow onto his arm to free his hands and easily climbs up into the truck. He gives the controls and various meters a look over. The instruments are easy enough to understand, if there are a bit more of them than he's used to, but that won't be an issue.

He decides to go ahead and test the engine. Thankfully when he tries the ignition the engine turns and a satisfied look passes across his face as he places his hands on the wheel. He glances over to Sonja. "So, which direction of the fog are we heading in?" He hates not being the one in charge of an operation, but he also knows that this is more of her element and it's smartest to put aside that pride for the benefit of not dying.

There's iron about -- mixed with the steel of weapons, and parts of the framework of the truck; she tries not to let it bother her. It can't hurt her in these concentrations, she reminds herself. And none of it is likely to be hand-forged.

Still, it's like an itch she can't quite scratch, and not precisely helpful in combination with all this talk of fog that gets creative with its nightmares. Anna folds her arms across her chest nervously.

She turns to face Jones.

"That...goddess wanted you as well, did she?" Anna can't quite help but put a hint of a sarcastic edge on the word. "It's strange to think, after all I've heard of mages, that I could be the one protecting you."

Ilde glances back at Anna in the midst of that, watching her expression for a moment with her curiously blank blue-black eyes; her half-smile is fleeting, but commiserating. It's everywhere, iron, and most of the time it doesn't hurt, but she soaked in it day after day for years and it's not a feeling that can just be ignored. Side-stepped, maybe, but it's there.

Still, she's on her own with sassing mages. Ilde watches the fog, after that.

"South and southwest." She casts a glance backward at Balthier with mild amusement as his assessment of the fog--it's pretty much accurate, as far as she knows, and she's actually glad to see him on this trip, since she knows he's competent. (For Sonja, this is friendly and effusive, okay.)

The fog itself is thick and patchy--there are intervals where it seems slightly less dense, but those do not actually denote anything good. Once the fog has so thoroughly encircled them they're clearly at least an acre or two out of the city, there's a sound that accompanies the movement of the truck.

It's hissing. Accompanied by the distinct feeling of something writhing after the tires. It's not terribly intense as of yet, but apparently they're being followed.

"Company," Sonja says. Her tone of voice is calm.

Really, Jones isn't too fussed about Anna's assessment of the situation. She's all too aware of her own mortality, and vampires seem to be able to take more hits than her sort, in general. That, and Anna's been her protector before in this sort of situation; that Anna thinks it's so odd is a little amusing, actually.

At Sonja's remark, she turns her gaze downward, toward the tires. The fog, curiously, dampens some of her magical senses—but there's certainly a presence growing in their wake. Something snakelike, slithering, gradually forming up into something more solid.

"I'm keeping an eye on it," she calls back. "I think we've got a minute or two before it become a problem."

The fog is thick and there's no hope of it letting up as Lex continues to drive into it. Clear patches come and go but they are brief and Lex learns quickly not to count on visibility lasting for long.

As he drives he finds himself having to adjust to the terrain far more than he did in the city, or even in other off road excursions. He keeps expecting to run over an unseen animal crawling on the ground, but that moment never coves. Instead he hears the familiar sound of tires rolling ahead surrounded by the contrasting unfamiliar sounds from all sides. The truck's not stopping until there's an emergency or Sonja yells at him, whichever comes first.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mission Gamma

Pre-Mission Temple Thread

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SORRY WE'RE HERE

ORZ

ROLLING STROLLING RIGHT ALONG IF THAT'S OKAY GUYS .o/

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