EVENT ★ GHOST TOWN

[futurologists]

BONEYARD JUNCTION Thanks to efforts from your teammates, the path to Boneyard Junction, the abandoned town at the end of the rail line, has been cleared. The train will not go this far, so recruits will have to walk the rail from the next stop over at the Fracking Fields. Most of the danger has been removed, but there still may be a few straggling giant lizards or bandits along the way, looking for a quick meal or an easy robbery. The ghost town itself is smaller in scope than Perdition's Rest, with several familiar-looking buildings -- the mayor's office, the sheriff's office, a general store -- but the main difference is that the town is halfway sunken into the desert. The ground here is shifting and unstable, with sinkholes and quicksand a constant threat. Venturing inside the crumbling buildings, left to rot in the desert for the past thirty years, is equally dangerous; there's a good chance that upper stories will simply collapse underfoot or overhead, and many venomous, aggressive reptiles and arachnids have moved in since the Qorral moved out. The Qorral have not been back here since abandoning it, so there is a lot to scavenge, from tech to money or tools to toys, both businesses and residential buildings are ripe for the plundering. The bandits have been through here in the past three decades many times, stripping the town of many of its valuables, but determined recruits ought to be able to find secret caches or overlooked boxes. Those who venture into the lowermost parts of buildings, however, will find objects of the greatest value, though not necessarily monetarily -- familiar-looking tech, corroded with sand and rusted with age, is littered about basements filled with sand and debris, as if the further the buildings sank into the desert, something beneath the town rose up to meet it. Upon further inspection, the tech will react when placed next to jewelcomms, lights blinking and static-filled screens turning on: this tech once belonged to ALASTAIR, its age clearly dating it much further back than the Qorral's arrival on this planet. But before Audentes can investigate further, there's an interruption . . . AMBUSH There's a sudden cacophony of shouting and gunfire from all sides of Boneyard Junction as heavily armed figures storm in, on the attack. They aren't from Perdition's Rest. They could be bandits, but bandits usually ask for money first -- plus, these people seem much too well-equipped to be bandits. Their clothing isn't haphazard, their weapons are well cared for. If recruits survive the initial onslaught (better be good at dodging bullets!) and pay attention to the shouting that can be heard above the gunfire, the identity of the attackers may slowly become clear: they speak of salvation and digging deeply. These are the Deemers. Previously unseen and ostensibly peaceful, the Deemers are now showing themselves to be anything but. They fight recruits with a savage intensity, injuries seemingly not slowing them down. Their only weakness appears to be injury to the head, after which they will immediately disengage and attempt to flee. Though they shout about salvation as they attack with a religious fervor, they also occasionally say something about recruits getting too close to something -- perhaps something in Boneyard Junction itself. Jonathan Black, leader of the Deemers, makes an appearance, spouting fire and brimstone in an unnaturally loud voice that can be heard above the gunfire and screaming. Any attempts to confront him will be met with vicious attacks from his bodyguards, a pair of shrouded Deemer women who fight with curved swords. Eventually, though, one recruit manages to break through. Once Black is dead, the Deemers will fight with more desperation than before, now trying to flee rather than attempting to kill recruits. Any Deemers that are captured will not share information, even under torture; they will only babble about deliverance and redemption found through drilling deeper into the planet. After they are driven off into the desert (or disposed of in other ways), the rest of Boneyard Junction is free to be explored without interruption. Perhaps collecting more ancient ALASTAIR technology will bring answers. OOC NOTES IMPORTANT: After the Deemers have been driven away, upon return to Perdition's Rest, Miz Poppy and a vast majority of the saloon workers have mysteriously vanished. The remaining workers have no idea where they've gone. All entertainment at the saloon has been postponed. Please direct all questions pertaining to the mission to the dossier page to keep questions and responses in one place for easy player reference. General game questions should be directed to the FAQ. If you haven't already, make sure you check out the Bounty Board for side missions! Remember you can also request bounty missions or submit player plots at any time.

Comments

[upshur]

Jesus, you don't even see it.

[ A rough laugh escapes him, the same moment that Haise squares his shoulders and sticks to his guns. Of course he doesn't see it, of course he doesn't. Martyrdom like this is learned, ingrained, calculated and foisted upon someone and they think it's theirs. The one, true selfless act that will deliver someone from pain and torment and death. It doesn't work like that, not to Miles. He runs his hands, healed - magically, over his face. Drags them over his temples and cheeks, brow knit as he groans. Low and long and loud.

Things pain him far less than they did before ( but his bones ache, they buzz, there's no escaping THAT ). ]

Okay. Okay - okay. Just. How do you pick who lives?

[ex_adept136]

[Unable to console Miles for a frustration he's caused him, Haise can only wait. There's nothing he could offer him that wouldn't be an empty platitude, not when both his inclinations and his career demand the very same things of him. Well, no, that isn't entirely accurate. It's not his career so much as his circumstances that dictate as much. Not being human is what it comes down to.

In the end, it doesn't matter that he was one once, back in some life he can't remember. Maybe that much is a mercy, not remembering.

One hand twitches, his right one, when he's presented with this new question. There follows a moment of tense silence during which his eyebrows knit together and lips pull into a thin line. Not surprisingly, it's a question he doesn't like to consider, because it's not often his place to decide]

I look for options that don't involve casualty.

[But that's not a complete answer, is it?]

If I have no options...usually, I have orders.

[upshur]

[ It's not Haise's fault - Miles has a hard time letting things go. Call it a personality trait, maybe even a flaw. Once he's taken hold of something, be it a topic to investigate or a well-rooted belief, he tends to bludgeon the thing until it coughs up what he wants to hear. The Deemer he'd beaten so soundly, had not said what he wanted to hear. Then again, he wasn't even sure he wanted to hear anything from that sorry bastard - he'd just wanted to hurt him. He'd just wanted to hurt someone, and maybe he's still riding that vacillating need even now. Lashing out and abusing someone who's been nothing but kind, in the hopes that he gets even with some lingering terror that's still got his mind under its control. ]

"I have orders" - jesus, that's a hot pile of fresh bullshit that's been picked up, cooked and fed to every fucking soldier that ever existed by higher-ups that tell you it's chocolate pie. Yum fucking yum, eat your cowshit pie. I understand "orders", Haise. We all answer to someone. We'll all burn, cinders and dust, because of it.

[ The words are a low snarl, his shoulders squared. Unyielding. He's worked with soldiers. He knows what they go through, and what they do. ]

You're alive for a reason. That reason? It's not to become a martyr.

[ex_adept136]

[The vehemence with which Miles pursues this topic comes as a surprise. Haise has had the subject broached, certainly, but it had never extended further than chiding concern or an instance or two of a kind associate being a mother hen. Having someone object this strongly is something he couldn't have anticipated, and his owlish stare doubtless makes as much plain to any observer.

He's quiet, pointedly so, until he's quite sure that Miles has expressed what he means to. Linking his hands in front of him, he once more adjusts his posture, the vague suggestion that he's grown uncomfortable where he sits an unavoidable one]

You don't understand my circumstances. My compliance isn't borne of ignorance.

[And often, he didn't want to comply. At every opportunity he could take, he worked within the system to spare lives. At the same time, Haise is keenly aware of what happens should he step out of line. He's aware of how disposable he is, and how replaceable he is. He'd been studied in order to create the implants the Q's now carry, and so in some respects, he's obsolete. He could serve his purpose, or he could die.

None of this does he see fit to burden Miles with. The circumstances of his life aren't necessarily anyone's concern, and he's aware of that as much as the rest]

I'm alive because someone thought I had utility.

[And that there is about as frank as he's gotten on the matter]

[upshur]

[ Seering hot. It's like he's on fire from within.

Something ( glitches ) in his voice and across his person. A hitch, a catch, an illusion. An instance of black, dripping from his lips. Poisoned and heavy, and unreal. Nothing about this is real, none of it happened. It's only Miles, teeth grinding, white-hot and emphatic and digging his words in like knives, because he wants to hurt someone and because he still can't fucking not care. Especially about little soldiers, all in a row. Following orders. Maybe it's unfair to think of Haise this way, but he honestly

doesn't give a shit about being correct. He just wants to be heard. ]

Being aware of it doesn't make it any better.

[ It's dumb. He's run out of steam. ]

[ex_adept136]

[For a bare instant, Haise thinks he sees something. It doesn't quite register, only a flicker of stark blackness, something that prompts him to press a hand over his eyes in some attempt to smooth the oddity out of his sight. When his hand drops, there's nothing unusual, just a frustrated Miles.

He doesn't like to vex people, not the sort to take pleasure in such things, but all he can do is sigh wearily as he lets his hand drop]

No, I wouldn't say it does.

[There's no comfort in knowing he only lives so long as he's deemed useful. In actuality, he lived in constant fear of the day he was deemed unnecessary, fully away of what would follow. With the passage of that one statement, he stands up, brushing a hand over his damaged uniform]

I appreciate your concern, but it's not a simple matter.

[Rather than some platitude, he does mean that. It's kind of Miles to express this concern, although he isn't quite sure what to do with it. Haise does want to live, and to share that life with the people he's grown to care about, but he'd rather protect than lose them.

Putting that aside, there remains the fact that when he returns home, he returns to being a weapon, to be used and perhaps discarded]