epidemiology | EVENT ★ LABYRINTH II

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EVENT ★ LABYRINTH II

DEEPER

Following the marked path near the lake leads Audentes (and George) further into the maze, closer to the goal found at the center. Some other inmates (including Zymandis agent Mavahari) and correctional officers follow along, having picked up on the organized manner of Audentes and figuring it’s their best bet on getting out of here alive.

Unlike the dry stone and sand in the outer ring of the maze, this next section is overflowing with flora. Jungle vines cling to the walls to the point where seeing the stone underneath is a difficult task; trees sprout from between cracked tiles, bearing alien-looking fruit; branches and brambles cross certain parts of the maze, and will need to be hacked through unless you want to find another way around.

Water is more plentiful now as well, since obviously the plants need it to flourish. For the first time since setting foot in the labyrinth, a rain begins to fall, drizzling and gentle. This can be a respite or an annoyance, depending on how you look at it: while it’s soothing and can make collection of fresh, clean water easier, walking around in wet clothes is probably not that pleasant.

Your fellow ALASTAIR recruit George has inexplicably struck up a friendship with the Zymandis agent Mavahari, and they can often be found exploring the maze together, with Mavahari helping him due to his broken arm. They seem to be getting along well enough, but maybe checking in with George is in order.

Otherwise, survival is the name of the game; though the center of the labyrinth is closer, it’s impossible to tell how close, and how long to expect to be here. Collecting water is simple enough, but food is growing scarce. The tree fruits may be a good solution, but it seems as though some have unfortunate reactions to them, ranging from stomach cramps to rashes to fever and temporary blindness.

But an allergic reaction may just be the least of your worries.

LOVE ME LIKE A REPTILE

The monsters seen so infrequently in the outer ring of the maze are now a common nuisance. Giant insects and rats scurry about, hungry for whatever flesh they can find, but they’re easily defeated, particularly if encountered as a group. But with new terrain comes new, adaptive animals, and the labyrinth is no different.

Lizards are now the main threat: enormous and camouflaged, they stalk their prey and take their time, looking for the perfect opportunity to ambush. The lizards are three-headed, with each head containing fangs dripping with venom, capable of rendering its victims paralyzed within five seconds flat. Their blood is also poisonous, capable of burning through metal, not to mention flesh.

If a head is severed, the lizard will retreat back into the jungle, presumably to nurse its wounds but possibly to grow another head -- no lizard will ever be encountered with less than three heads, so it’s possible they have regenerative abilities. The best way to defeat one is to remove all three heads at once, or simply kill it in whatever way possible. The lizards are quick and mean, but not invincible.

Now more than ever, it’s important to take care in exploring the maze. Stray too far from the group or try to make it alone, and you might not survive.

OOC NOTES

Once again, we have a plotting post here and search requests for the next ring of the maze.

Please note: during the labyrinth event, all drops are ICly delayed. What this means is that characters who drop will be handwaved to still be around on auto-pilot until connection with Oska is resumed, at which point they will be transferred to a different team as usual.

If you have any questions about the labyrinth that aren't answered here, please direct them to the Leramzen dossier. If you have questions for any NPCs, please direct them there as well!

Questions about the game in general should be directed to the FAQ and you may submit mission ideas or player plots at any time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[When it came to roughing it, Sans had a spotty track record. On the one hand, he came from a people who single handedly rebuilt their civilization (twice) out of nothing after being shut away from all they knew.

But also, y'know, that was then. They microwaves and Undernet and central heating now. That tinder your own flame urgency of his ancestors was now a thing of the past. The most roughing it Sans had ever done was when he was a kid, and that felt so distant it barely counted.

Still. Even he knew the problem with Peter's fire. They hadn't talked since Peter's apology -- not out of malice on his part so much as simply... not knowing what to say -- but Sans had a soft spot for the pathetic. And you'd be hard pressed to find a more pathetic sight than Peter.

From his spot leaning against one of the trees circling the informal Audentes campsite, Sans doesn't bother getting up. Instead he raises his voice enough to be heard, skull turned towards where Peter sits.]

Your wood's wet. [He offers, striking a more academic tone than condescending.] That's why it's sending up a buncha smoke.

( wow rude he's not pathetic he's just outdoorsily challenged

Peter has not been reminded of that weird way Sans doesn't trigger his senses until it's almost pointless to notice him in the first place, something to do with the teleportation tendency the guy has. the... skeleton has. is that the proper terminology here? he's still wrapping his head around talking to a sassy skeleton.

he jumps, and he never jumps, because he's usually never surprised. when he glances back to look at Sans, though, he's not angry or resentful. though, any reminder of Woodhurst and what happened there, and just looking at Sans was enough to make him remember. Peter still tries to push that to the back of his mind and focus on the suggestion, instead. )

What? It's ... ( he's still close enough to toe at the fire that couldn't with a sneakered toe, as if he could possibly ascertain the dryness that way. he can't, but. ) It looks dry to me, how do you know if its wet or not? ( it's not like it had been raining nonstop in the labyrinth, either, how did it even get wet in the first place? )

[When Sans speaks again, he's abanonned his distant tree and is sitting across from Peter's outdoorsily challenged firepit.]

All that smoke, no flame. Also, y'know, it was drizzling earlier. [He shrugs, striking as helpful a tone he can.] If I knew more fire magic, I'd help you out, but it'll dry out eventually.

You cold or trying to cook something? [He nods to the fruits Peter was scrutinizing earlier.]

( he'd been so sure he'd gotten wood that was at least passingly dry. it was hard for a city boy to know that dry wasn't as simple as just not being wet. he sighs, looking at the sputtering nonstarter and running a hand through hair that seems just as damp as the firewood.

it makes his hair stick up, by the way, to a ridiculous degree. feel free to laugh, anyone passing by. )

I was... I don't know. ( emphasis on I don't know because he doesn't even remotely know what he's doing. it seemed like the right thing to do, seemed like a way he could help, even a little... and he hadn't quite managed it. ) Just seems like what you do in situations like this, right?

[How about someone sitting with you? 'Cuz he's not above chuckling at a guy making a spectacle of himself.

Even if he's pretty fond of this specific spectacle.]

Pretty much. [His laugh transitions into a grin; same as always, and yet somehow warmer.] Do much camping back where you're from?

Are you kidding? Look at this impeccable camp I've created for myself. Master camper, like Bear Grylls over here.

( he sells this, despite his sputtering fire, and the fact that's the only thing he's managed whatsoever. it takes a few more seconds for him to discourage his own sarcastic illusion. )

I mean that genuinely. He had a crew to do all his work, and that's about as knowledgeable as I am, too. My uncle, he was good at this stuff, but... the few times he took me I was too little to really get most of it.

I knew a grizzly back home. [Because yeah, what else would a guy named Bear Grylls be.] Had pretty unbearable survival skills.

[That's a joke, son. You get it? Don't be embarrassed if it went over your head, this is highbrow stuff we're dealing with.]

Think you'll go again? [Sans settles, getting a little more comfortable by the fire.] With your uncle, I mean.

Wow, okay. ( Peter laughs, because despite how terrible that pun is, let's be real, Peter has no room to judge anyone on their pun usage. he uses too many spider puns on a daily basis to even feign protest. ) With a name like Bear Grylls, you'd think he was a bear. Man, would have made a better show, though.

( just following a survivalist bear through foreign landscapes... or maybe Peter just finds bears to be cool.

as for if he'd go camping with his uncle again? that makes the fairly good mood slide off his face, as it usually does. ) I'd go in a heartbeat if I could. He ... he died a couple years ago. ( Peter shrugged, like it doesn't matter... though the look on his face indicates it does. )

Sure, if you like politics. [That's what the bears back home talk about, anyway. But bear coolness is neither here nor there. What steals Sans' attention most is the slow ebb of their frivolity.

He said something wrong in there somewhere, that was easy to guess.

It was even easier to guess it rested on the mention of uncle.

And before he could try and change the subject, Peter was explaining. Sans sighs lunglessly, slumping a little against the log.]

Ah... I'm sorry, kid. I know how that goes. [His perpetual smile twists slightly.] Shouldn't have assumed like that.

( first bears ran villages and had bear proms, now they're getting into politics? man, that would have been the better route of conversation, no question.

as it stands, dead uncle talk is never the most enjoyable. though, there's something to be said in the fact Peter has managed to discuss it, when usually he cages up memories of people he's lost and shoves them to the dark depths of his consciousness, as if back there their absence can't hurt (it can and does). it's not easy to talk about Uncle Ben, yet the memories Peter has of camping with him were still good. maybe it's not such a crime to talk about them, even if his uncle is gone. )

Nah, it's okay. How would you know? ( Peter manages a half smile, to prove he's not broken up about it. or, at least, that he isn't holding the accidental reference against someone who didn't know. ) He'd probably poke fun at my embarrassing campfire if he were here, too.

[Sans shrugs in response to the question, sensing it's rhetorical nature and even besides that... not knowing what to say. It was a huge, vast, tarry pit, losing someone. Losing family. And what nobody tells you is that you never really get out.

It gets easier, sure, you start moving again. But the tar doesn't wash off, and that movement is never quite the same.

Some people do great things with it. Others do nothing. Sans was always in the latter camp, but the jury was still out where this kid lay.]

Would've liked to meet him. We could've made fun of your fire together. [It's a joke, but a gentle one.] Seriously though, kid, where ever he's at in this crazy multiverse... I'd be willing to bet he's proud of ya.

( Peter probably does both. he's an overachiever that way. he feels obligated to keep going, keep moving, make the most of every day he has and his uncle doesn't, fulfill that gap between who he was and who Uncle Ben would have wanted to be.

but he hadn't learned from the loss like he ought have, either. leaving it to fester probably counted as doing nothing, after all. he's grown from the kid that lost his uncle, that's for sure... but it's taken a good few years to get there.

peter huffs a laugh at the idea. ) He wouldn't need the help, but I'm sure he'd take it. ( heckling was all the more fun when you had back up, right? at least Peter would have found it well meaning from both of them. he'd probably do anything to hear his uncle grumble about him again.

it's hard hearing that Ben would be proud of him, if he could see him; be proud of what? the people he'd hurt due to his irresponsibility? the lives that had been affected by his refusal to let go of his secrets. Peter nods, numbly, looking skyward like maybe his uncle could be in the big great beyond, watching. he doesn't believe in that stuff, but in moments like this? it's comforting. ) Yeah. Probably. ( because his uncle had always managed to be proud, despite all of his (many) mistakes. his uncle would be proud as long as he kept trying to overcome them... and he is. slowly, but surely.

Peter scruffs his eye with an oversized sleeve and hopes Sans isn't paying him overmuch attention as he juts to his feet instead. ) If we're making him proud, then we'd better find some dry wood instead of sitting around feeling sentimental. He'd be more proud if I'm not freezing, I'm sure.

No doubt. [It's a small sentiment, and in response to a great deal many things beyond agreement about getting some more burnable wood. There's a sense of warmth there that goes beyond what a fire could provide; from the perspective of someone who knew what it was to feel a pride and love for family, no matter what they did or became.

It's a fleeting moment, yes, but one that lodges itself in the back of Sans' skull whenever he looks at Peter going forward.]

You go ahead. [Sans instructs, grinning as he waves Peter off into the woods to seek out some dry wood.] I'll assess your performance from here.

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EVENT ★ LABYRINTH II

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wrap on yours maybe?

You got it!! Allow me to put a bow on this.