epidemiology | EVENT ★ COWBOYS VS. ALIENS

EVENT ★ COWBOYS VS. ALIENS

STATE OF THE PLANET

Efforts in convincing the Qorral to stop drilling have been tentatively successful. Longterm solutions have been brought to them and, perhaps most importantly for the immediate, the fracking fields have been destroyed. The entire field has collapsed in on itself, taking mining equipment with it and creating a barren wasteland. In effect, the Qorral can no longer drill for argecite here, which means they will be leaving earlier than expected now that there is no use for the mining colony. It also means that the planet has been saved from being hollowed out completely.

On the other hand, attempts at dealing with the Deemers have been a little shaky. By now, it's known that Miz Poppy is host to the Mother, the queen of this Taraxa hive. She remains elusive, slipping through the fingers of any who manage to find or capture her. Meanwhile, the infested Qorral have been dealt with in many ways: some opting for wholesale slaughter, some hoping to extract the Taraxa in the field, and some sending both extracted Taraxa and infested hosts back to Oska to be examined.

As varied as the Deemer solutions have been, they have all resulted in the Deemer population being decimated. The numbers have dwindled as their camps are hunted down by ALASTAIR recruits, and attacks on the town of Perdition's Rest halt.

But the Mother is still out there and free, and that's a problem . . .

THE INVASION (DAY 1)

In the morning, the ships come.

Visible from the ground are massive spaceships in the upper atmosphere, gently drifting clouds sometimes blocking them from view. The Qorral don't recognize the ships; they're neither from their homeworld nor from any species they know, friendly or otherwise. For a few hours, the ships just hang in space like looming, silent buzzards, waiting.

And then -- sparkling, metal objects start falling to the planet. It's difficult to tell what they are, as their scale is minuscule compared to the gigantic warships above, and their descent is strangely beautiful. But as the objects come closer to the surface, the details become clear: individual spacecraft. They're gleaming in gold and white metal, a triangle sigil painted on the sides, and cannons mounted on the bottom.

These are Zymandis fighter craft. And they are not here to make nice.

The fighter craft swoop down close and send a barrage of lasers down on Perdition's Rest, causing the local Qorral to scatter. But their fear doesn't last long: many immediately take up arms to fire back at the ships when they're low enough, including Sheriff Holladay, who shouts commands to anyone who will listen, Qorral and ALASTAIR alike: take cover, give 'em hell, and for sun's sake, don't be a hero. (Those who have been officially deputized may access the sheriff's armory, which includes all sorts of fun toys of the shooty variety.)

But some Qorral have something else in mind. A small pack of locals rides out to the farm of Amos Zephyr -- and if you're suspicious enough to follow, it'll pay off. Beneath Zephyr's farm is a hidden defense platform: earth slowly moves aside as a metal platform raises up, home to mounted anti-aircraft cannons and fighter craft of their own.

The Qorral fighter craft are intuitively designed, and the Qorral will also quickly give any curious ALASTAIR recruit a run-down on how to operate them. They're short-handed since so many of their number joined the Deemers, so they're very eager to allow anyone to try their hand at flying the two-man ships, which have their own mounted cannons and, of course, escape parachutes. The fighter craft are not meant for high altitudes, though, so your dreams of space travel will have to wait for another time.

Those who do not wish to take flight and aren't comfortable with projectile weapons may find luck searching the desert for prey: namely, Taraxa agents attempting to flee in Zymandis escape pods. It seems as though the fighter craft are a distraction from the real goal of Zymandis helping its agents flee the planet. The Zymandis agents who are not Taraxa are variously humanoid, all equipped with laser weapons (spears, rifles, whips) that they will not hesitate to use against any who interrupt their attempts at escape.

For those who aren't battle inclined, there are civilians who need to be ushered to safety, and quick repairs to weapons, equipment, horses, or even the Qorral fighter craft will be needed. This fight is going to be a long one.

THE AFTERMATH (DAY 2)

It's peaceful now. The Zymandis warships have fled into space with the surviving Taraxa agents in tow, the Mother presumably among them. The combined efforts of team Audentes and the Perdition's Rest colonists have successfully staved off the attack.

The destruction wrought by Zymandis (and, perhaps, by overeager recruits themselves) is visible across the planet: deep fissures and scars from the laser cannons, fighter craft wreckage from both sides, burned buildings and trees, perhaps a fire still raging in the scrub grass somewhere. The Qorral aren't quite sure what that was all about, but they're more concerned with ALASTAIR's efforts in helping than in pointing fingers.

Q-65 is no longer a suitable home, so the locals begin to pack up in preparation for the arrival of their homeworld's ships in the next few days. An old man puts his chess pieces away; a little girl clutches her robot pony doll, unwilling to put it in her suitcase; the stable owner and the blacksmith stand close together and talk in hushed, affectionate tones. Sheriff Holladay lets her deputies know they've served the colony well. It's bittersweet, but the Qorral always knew this settlement was never permanent.

The mission complete, Audentes should expect to arrive back at Oska shortly. Use the time to say goodbye and finish up your business. Or, if you'd like, drink some of the booze that someone just found in the cellar beneath the burned-out saloon. It doesn't keep during interstellar travel, and no one will begrudge you a little celebration.

OOC NOTES

This log wraps up the Perdition's Rest mission! The log will last two IC days, after which characters will immediately return to Oska via dimensional rift (on 21 December in OOC time).

Mission epilogue details will go up at a later date, but for now, Audentes can rest easy knowing that the mission has been a success. We will be posting an OOC post-mission assessment on 14 December so we can discuss how the mission went and talk about the state of the game in general.

There is a new bounty on the Oska Bounty Board! Perdition's Rest bounties remain open until 21 December, at which point you will no longer be able to turn them in. You can also request bounty missions at any time.

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. To submit a player plot or future mission idea, please go to the Suggestions post.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And you generally sold... ?

[Don't say "candy".]

[is the fan coming out... is it??? yes, it is. behold, his fan.]

Well, I do order specialty items for my frequent customers. And there's a wide variety of household items... and candy, of course.

[he peers over his fan at her.] You seem surprised.

[Was he... a dancer? So far Sieglinde's experience with fans has been largely in an artistic capacity, so... she's just going to shelve that.]

By specialty items I assume you mean your inventions?

[She raises a brow, even though she has no fan to hide behind.]

You simply did not seem the type to squander your talents on... candy.

[no, he's just weird. and if he's pleased by her compliment, it doesn't show- for once he doesn't actually feign the embarrassment, rather choosing the more confident approach. Sieglinde is intelligent- too intelligent to believe in false humility.]

Oh not usually. Maybe a minor one here or there, but to be honest, I don't trust most people to be able to use my inventions well or wisely. And I have to turn a profit somehow if I'm going to be able to fund my projects.

Ah...

[That made enough sense for her, in the semi-drunken state she was in. She was nodding, at least, and waves a hand grandly.]

It is best to use one's inventions oneself, it is true... people are often too foolish.

[The burdens of genius.]

[foolish or powermongering bastards- the latter he worries more about, because watching his hogyoku being used like that by Aizen had stung. he was guilty of creating that monster, and maybe Aizen would have found some other way to liken himself to God without it, but it wouldn't have been as easy.

to chase this thought away, he takes another long swig.] Plus I like the simplicity of it- keeping a shop running. [being a complete shyster, etc.] I don't think I could ever give up being a scientist, of course, but... [he shrugs one shoulder] There's something almost pleasant in a job that doesn't involve trying to make everyone's problems yours to solve.

[ah. that was surprisingly candid, and he won't even blame the wine. it's a sentiment he figures she'll understand, anyway.]

[Isn't that the truth?

Isn't a lot of what he's saying the truth?]

I do not think I have ever imagined such a thing.

[An attempt to sit up fails and she only succeeds at rolling onto her side, mumbling more than actually speaking.]

Living simply. It is not in the stars for one such as I.

[Or they?]

[he supposes a respectable adult would tell her she's too young to think her life should be scripted and planned, and that she should have a little more faith in her ability to break the cycle.

but she's a girl who believes in tradition, and that's one thing. the other thing is that he's been this way since the moment he discovered cleverness made you invaluable, and if he's been thriving on variations of that same concept for centuries, it would be unfair to expect her to do what he never found reason to do in the short span of a human life.]

Well, that can't be helped. [it's as close to admittance as he wants to get. he would like to retire and live simply, now that his debts have been clear... but they haven't, have they? there's still Ichigo, and he's enduring ALASTAIR's employ to buy himself time to fix that problem.]

Pretending never hurt anyone, but inevitably you end up in the same position you were in to start with. [he chuckles quietly, barely perceptible beyond the rise and fall of his shoulders] Problems won't stop just because you solved one or two- ALASTAIR's entire agenda is proof of that. And if I really wanted to live simply... I wouldn't be enduring any of this. I would be doing everything in my power to leave.

[It wasn't in the stars, she says, but more accurately... it was in her mind. She has not yet reached that point in her own world, when she will be given the choice. The choice between living quietly in the country, a simple doctor amongst simple people, or the chance to discard any hope of a calm and uneventful life in favor of countless riches to fund her research, a study that could go on as long as she lived and there were things yet to know.

But she already knew which answer she would choose. Perhaps it was the stars that had given her such a lust for learning- perhaps they are to blame.]

I like problems.

[Not... having them... solving them. But she's a bit too drunk to be articulate, and a bit too experienced with this sort of drunk, with melancholy, to shut her mouth.]

You must also like problems.

[Like recognized like, in some ways.]

What is a Green Witch without problems?

[she is very much in her cups, and he isn't, though the rate at which he's drinking this Qorral wine suggests he plans to get there inasmuch as he's comfortable with soon enough.

he considers her words carefully, debating between candor (fair is fair) and well-thought out omissions or borderline lies. in the end, candor wins.] I think I must, considering how often I make new ones for myself.

[he finds them, and he makes them. every solution comes with its new set of problems. it's a neverending cycle. he's efficient. if he really wanted to, he could solve problems without creating more loose ends to tie up, but science isn't neat and orderly and accounting for every variable doesn't mean things won't turn out bittersweet.

Ichigo's sacrifice could have been just that, but Urahara won't let it go. it gnaws at him.]

It seems like a Green Witch has a lot to shoulder- sacrificing her feet to the wolves and requiring problems to solve.

[it's said mildly, because as much as he sees quite a bit of his own demons in her, they deal with them very differently. she's rooted deeply in her tradition. he decided long before his exile that tradition shouldn't be everything.]

[In the stars, she had said... and maybe that is what it was. The stars, destiny, whichever... they were good enough explanations for the things one could not control.

Being born to a woman who had been mad and desperate enough to do what she had to her own daughter. Being raised ignorant to the outside world. ... Maybe even making SuLIN.

But they aren't excuses for what happens after, even she knows that.]

What has been sacrificed...

[Her feet. The ones she had unbound attempting to be less of a burden. The ones she regretted unbinding even now, when she was at her lowest, when she found herself undeserving of attempting to forget what she had done in her own world.]

How little it seems to matter sometimes. Here.

[But it mattered to her. Even if no one else could understand. Even if they shouldn't even be required to.]

[there are no wolves here, he had told her, having been one of those who didn't understand. her response had been enough to get him to back down from that line of thinking, because, in the end, who she is and why she's that way is all her own doing.

his "I know best always" attitude only applies to the bigger picture.]

People are self-involved. It's nothing against them- in this situation, I think most would have reason to be. But we're all here, being pawns in whatever game ALASTAIR is playing, because something mattered to us enough to agree to the cause, instead of going against it.

It all matters, even if not everyone understands or comprehends the reasons, because it feeds into why we're fighting at all. [he pauses, canting his head slightly, and offering her a tiny, sympathetic smirk] Some of us just... try so hard to believe that we're all fighting for the same reasons, and that our scars are relics from the places we came from.

And that's how we get arguments like the ones Achilles-san sparked.

Edited 2016-12-18 23:52 (UTC)

[She knows that. She thinks to say so, but it sounds petty in her head so she closes her mouth at the last minute, occupying herself with trying to sit up straighter, a feat of extreme coordination. Agreeing... she never agreed to this. She allowed it. She had a debt she owed ALASTAIR, but that debt would never have been incurred if she'd not been snatched up in the first place... so she told herself she didn't fight for ALASTAIR, and it was mostly true.]

I neither agree to nor reject their cause. So foolish...

[Too many doubts. Too many variables. Too much they had only someone's word on... how could she take that and decide whether to be alright with the damage their team wreaked? And yet it seemed so many were content to simply take what they were given... Urahara was right in that Achilles' challenge had made some things very clear... and not just to the men in question.]

That was even more so. Like listening to a horde of asses with ears strut about as if they knew the truth of the universe.

[As if they all shared the same values. The same priorities. The same culture.

As if they'd gleefully joined an army regiment rather than the truth of how they'd been assembled.]

[the conversation was cutting too close to the bone, so he's grateful for the shift in focus. the whole ordeal with Achilles and Koltira had been... well, frustrating, honestly. not because he particularly cared if they killed each other- although it would be inconvenient if they did- but because it proved that they'll argue any point that conflicts with their views.

Olivia was proof of that, as well.]

And people wonder why some of us are inclined to keep secrets. It's best to avoid that sanctimony entirely.

[he'll be the first to call people out when they're being stupid or truly incompetent, but this entire affair has just been petty.] They're none of them bad people- just oblivious sometimes.

[not much can make him long for the Gotei 13, but this team can bring it out in him. the only thing they have going for them is they're extraordinarily predictable as a group and, more often than not, as individuals.]

You sound so wise, Urahara...

[Muttered, because he said what she was thinking, even as she gave up and slumped back down, discarding the idea of sitting up and instead taking the opposite goal up, shifting about to make herself comfortable, trying to move her rear-length hair out of the way and into a pillow for her cheek.]

And so very forgiving... like a strange... scientific saint...

[that should make him laugh- really it should. the idea that anyone would call him a saint for any reason. forgiving, wise... blunt, tactless, cold, prone to being clinical and detached, never acting on his emotions...

well, if these are qualities for sainthood, then he's got the whole thing wrapped up.]

That... may be the first time I've ever been called that. [he glances down and notes her position.] If you're going to sleep, Sieglinde-san, we should find you a bed. [well, at least he's not the sort of man who leaves a drunk girl to sleep in the dirt.] C'mon.

[he's not waiting for permission since she's already getting comfortable, only pausing a moment to pull his arm out of its sling to test if its ready to bear any sort of weight and deems it good enough. that done, he scoops her up in his arms as he stands.]

Compared to me, I mean...

[He seemed saintly at the moment, at least, compared to her feelings on the situation, and she wasn't quite in the intellectual position to argue.

One of the few downsides of alcohol consumption, as she was exploring it. She also can't really protest being picked up, either, slumping into his shoulder with a groan.]

I slept for thirty hours already.

[But she'd also used a lot of magic yesterday, and despite her abilities now, she had not been born to wield it, and it exhausted her physically to expend so much of it.]

Oh, don't say that. You're practically an angel in comparison to a dashing rogue like me. [it's hard to be anything but cheeky when she's in such a position, and too drunk to protest his deflection. fortunately for her poor alcohol-soaked brain, they're close enough to the town that he can just walk without bothering with flash step.]

Yes, yes, I know. I won't let you sleep for thirty more. You'll miss the transport out, and I don't think the sandworms will appreciate a Green Witch as much as we do. Don't you think?

[He's lucky she can't really figure out a proper way to refute what he's saying without incriminating herself... or maybe unlucky.]

Unless you created a weapon to kill thousands, I believe I shall win this battle of the rogues.

[It might be a bit hard to make out, considering she's speaking... directly into his clothing, but. She almost isn't even aware of saying it, just answering blindly, her dress now reeking of poor alcohol.]

Everyone thinks I am very kind, though...

[he doesn't catch most of that- only enough that it makes it sound more like she's making up some arbitrary thing in her drunken state to prove her point, and just enough that he almost wants her to repeat it more clearly.

maybe another time when the playing field is level, and he wouldn't have to admit his collection of very un-saint-like sins to fight her over it. it's a battle no one wants to win anyway.]

Why wouldn't they? With your intelligence, you could do whatever you like. You don't need to ingratiate yourself to anyone, and yet you go out of your way to help them. That's very kind.

[Out of her way.

He's warm, and it's so much more comfortable being carried than walking on her own, even though she has unbound her feet, one currently still bandaged tightly over a healing bulley wound through-and-through through muscle and flesh. It reminds her of what seems like years ago, when her feet had been bound and Wolfram had always carried her to bed.]

They do not really know the truth... that is all.

[The truth, but even drunk she knows enough not to actually be specific, nuzzling sleepily into the shoulder in front of her face.]

Achilles is far braver than I.

[At least he could be honest about his intentions, and his motives.]

[he keeps staring straight ahead and even though his sore arm is protesting the extra weight, begging him to cut this short, he just keeps purposefully walking to the little town in search of some building intact enough to put the poor girl down so she can sleep this off.

they must look quite a sight- him stone-faced with shadowed eyes and her reeking of alcohol with her face pressed into his shoulder. all in all, it looks like a sweet display. no one need know they're both so close to cutting to the heart of their individual demons and neither has to say a word about it.]

It might be braver to wear your intentions on your sleeve like that, but it's not safer. ["You don't need to change yourself to suit them," Shinji had told him, and Urahara held that to be true, until the truth didn't matter like it ought to. it's safer to lie, to build walls. people don't find your weaknesses if you do that.] Now seems a bad time to be giving you sage advice. I don't know if you'll remember it when you wake up.

[he chuckles, the sound a bit careless.] But this I know to be true... Fear isn't needed in a battle, and Achilles-san lives to fight. People like you and me, Sieglinde-san... We have a lot to fear, because we're the sort of people that others fear. Intelligent. Capable. Powerful in ways stronger than sheer warrior's skill. If we were honest about everything we could do, then we could be respected, but we could also be hunted down, because genius is dangerous.

[he remembers, because he put people in the Maggot's Nest for far less than intelligence. Mayuri would brag to anyone who would listen about what he could and would do. Aizen just flat out did it once he had amassed the power to get away with it.

never once has Urahara Kisuke showed his hand- the one time he did was in that damn forest on the night of the Hollowfication Incident and Aizen took him for all he had.

the least he can do is impart that wisdom- if she doesn't remember it, then he can pretend he didn't just bare his soul enough to raise questions. if she does, maybe she'll keep it to herself.]

[For better or worse, whether Sieglinde will actually remember this is anyone's guess at this point. But she is listening, even if she seems out of it.

She knows it's not safe. That even though she admired Achilles' ability to be open about such things, to expose himself to the distaste and vilification of the team, it was not necessarily a smart decision. Knows she cannot do the same.

Fear. Intelligence. Honesty. Respect. Danger.

Even if people seemed to expect honesty... did they really want it? Could they even handle it? Should people like her, (people like them), even... try?

Sieglinde does think to reply, she does-

But all that comes out is a snore.]

[Urahara chuckles as he pushes open a door that's half-off its hinges. it's been stripped bare of any belongings, though the sparse furniture remains and it's here he finds a bed to lay her down on.

he draws back, crossing his arms over his chest. she's so young- too young to be as cautious as all this, but he started young too. he had his reasons, and she probably does too, judging by what she's been saying.] Well... For your sake, I hope you don't have to learn those lessons the hard way. Good night, Sieglinde-san.

[and with that, he steps out.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT ★ COWBOYS VS. ALIENS

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject