EVENT ★ LABYRINTH III: THE ESCAPE

[futurologists]

LABYRINTH III The correct passageway to the inner ring of the maze is hidden behind a thick wall of vines. After cutting through the plants, the structure of the maze is noticeably different: the overgrown plants continue creeping up the walls, but the walls are no longer brick and stone, composed instead of some sort of blue metal with holes and divots carved elaborately into the surface. From some holes gush forth pure, clean water; from others, acidic liquid. The air is cool and crisp, the plants creating a lush, dim environment lit by eerie blue lights spread throughout this section. The lizards, rats, and other monstrous creatures seem to be absent from this area of the maze, replaced instead by rhinoceros-sized beetles. The beetles each have a single horn protruding from the head, and their hard carapaces make them difficult to kill -- a better method might be to simply climb somewhere high and wait for the beetle to get bored. But unlike the other monsters encountered in the maze, the beetles seem to have something else on their mind beyond wanton violence: they can sometimes be found rolling massive balls of dung throughout the corridors of the labyrinth. (This might explain why the plants are so lush closer to the center.) There is little time to explore this section of the labyrinth before there's a flicker of light all around and more ALASTAIR recruits suddenly appear, most dressed in a freshly pressed uniform and carrying extra food and supplies. They have been told that the cloaking surrounding Asterion Labyrinth is so strong and complex that Oska was only able to send in a handful of recruits at once for a relief effort. In order to leave, they'll have to locate the escape mechanism that lies deep within the labyrinth; the remaining Asterion Prison correctional officers know its general location, but not precisely what it entails. All they know is that it will require technological cunning to operate and that it's heavily guarded. After five days, the portal room is found. THE PORTAL ROOM The center of the labyrinth is a large, circular room with a raised platform in the middle. On this platform rests a circle of computer consoles surrounding another platform, on which sits an empty circular frame 2.5m (8') in diameter. This is the dormant portal, and it is now Audentes's task to turn it on and find their way back to Oska. Because the portal is not made for interdimensional travel, it must be overclocked, which will cause it to burn out and explode once it is used. In order to override the safety protocols in place to prevent such dangerous tampering, the control panels must be unlocked -- and unfortunately, the locks are all complicated puzzles, ranging from the numerical to sliding pieces into place to complete a pattern. There are many of these puzzled scattered around the portal room, and once they are all unlocked, it's a simple matter of flipping the power override switches. Ignore the dangerous humming sound and the way the frame suddenly fills with violent purple energy. That's probably normal. The new recruits have the correct coordinates to locate Oska, which has temporarily lowered its cloaking shield to allow Audentes to return. So there is a bit of a time crunch. Adding more to the difficulty of the situation is the presence of a monster lumbering around the circular portal room. Six meters (20') high, the beast is best described as a minotaur, but perhaps not in the traditional sense: while it resembles a bipedal bull, it is an amalgamation of flesh and machine with its body covered in pistons and glowing lights. One of its hands is an enormous axe and it belches fire and acid. Despite its head resembling an herbivore, the piles of desiccated bones scattered throughout the portal room tell a different story. Upon seeing the group, the minotaur charges. Mavahari, the Zymandis recruit, rushes to meet it with her sword drawn. Inmates and correctional officers do their best to fight it as well, but something becomes quickly apparent: it cannot be harmed by projectile weapons. The machinery of the beast keeps it protected from most attacks, though electricity will stun it and acid will corrode its metal. But in order to injure the minotaur, it must be stabbed between the metal plates where its vulnerable flesh remains. During the battle, the minotaur fights viciously and without regard for its own safety. The first casualty comes early: the minotaur swings its axe toward Mavahari, who is pushed out of the way by George. The axe connects with him solidly, sending him flying into the wall with a shuddering impact. George lies there still, but there's no time to mourn. The beast continues its rampage. Once the minotaur is defeated, you'll have to quickly decide what to do with the correctional officers and inmates who have followed Audentes through the Asterion Labyrinth. The overclocked portal won't hold forever, and the longer Oska leaves its cloak down, the better chance they have of being found by their enemies. OOC NOTES This log will last for six IC days: five days for exploration and one day at the center of the maze. We have also recently altered the calendar this month, so make sure you review it! IMPORTANT: Participation in the solution poll is mandatory for August AC. Failure to participate will result in an automatic strike. The only exception is for those who are exempt from August AC. The poll will close on 11 August 23:59 UTC. If you have any questions about the labyrinth that aren't answered here, please direct them to the Leramzen dossier. Questions about the game in general should be directed to the FAQ and you may submit mission ideas or player plots at any time.

Comments

[ofobedience]

[His eyes linger for a moment on the body of their fellow recruit, Giovanni's face blank as a pure white sheet pulled tight, messy edges tucked out of view. Just another dead body. He's seen so many of them that one more doesn't rouse him in the least, although vaguely, in the smallest of ways, he wonders whether it should. There's something here, isn't there, if his teammate seems so affected by it? Something he's missing, struggles to grasp.]

That's true enough, I suppose. We've all been a little dispersed, of late.

[He's barely seen much of the others, lately. Has kept, largely, to himself. Searching for a way out with the rest of them, or spending his time hunting down the monsters of this maze, if for no other reason than to give him something familiar to focus on. Something he knows.]

But there will always be casualties. I'm surprised we haven't had more of them.

[banded]

The fact that we were lucky enough to not die in the crash that we orchestrated is enough, isn't it? I don't know how we managed to live through that. Or if we deserved to live through that, considering. [Deserving to live or die is another thing altogether. Scott had been a passive participant once their plans had gone into motion, doing whatever it seemed needed to be done at that time. Once the crash occurred, he tried to get as many people out of the wreckage as possible.

At the time, it was very apparent that Audentes got through. Scott doesn't know about the idea of plot armor or anything like that; he only knows that they wouldn't remain that lucky. George's body is proof of that.]

I can't say he was my friend. He's not even the biggest loss I've experienced. But ... [He trails off, uncertain of how to continue his thought.]

[ofobedience]

I wonder.

[It's not as though he has an answer for him. Can't tell him why it's a loss that he feels, when Giovanni himself feels nothing at all. Very slightly, he frowns. The man counts, he supposes, as a member of their team, in as much as he was right there with them this entire way. Ever since the Heist went awry, even a little before. He'd have defended him, if it had come to it, in the fight. Would that have made any difference, if he had? Changed his feelings? And perhaps he ought to feel something, even now-- anger, displeasure, something. But there's only the same curious absence he'd feel on looking at any old corpse.

It's just another indication that he's something different, something other. Something that doesn't belong in a group like this. And yet...here he is, all the same.]

The first death of an ally for you, here, perhaps?

[There's a pause then, and he wonders whether he ought to say something comforting. Only, of course, that's just another thing he has no idea how to do--]

Life and death...it has nothing to do with deserving. It's just something that we're all forced into, whether we want it or not.

[...he tried...]

[banded]

[It might not be comforting from someone else, but Scott recognizes the effort that comes from Giovanni. They aren't perfect allies with a strong understanding of one another; while Scott feels as if he and Giovanni connected during that riot, he knows that they are different people. They have different experiences, ones that have forged the type of people they are today. He doesn't expect grief from Giovanni. Someone who can rip someone's jaw off in a fit of blind violence likely wouldn't notice George on the ground.

No, he knows what Giovanni is trying to do—and it's for him. It's absolutely for him. The words adhere to Giovanni's usual notions. His view of himself as a weapon and unable to be anything more—to Scott, it all falls together.

He nods, offering a faint smile to Giovanni. The smile doesn't show happiness or relief; it's more a demonstration of appreciation for the other man.]

That's probably it. You can't save everyone anywhere. Now, I'm being reminded of that fact. It's easier to see it when you know the person. It always is.

[ofobedience]

[And that's something, that he seems to have recognised Giovanni's attempt for what it is. There are so many things he struggles to grasp and comprehend about the world he's been thrust into, cut off and apart from the kind of cold brutality he's always known where feelings were something to be shunned and shut down and altogether denied unless one wanted to be destroyed. And so faced with them now, again and again, this team that seems to be filled with bleeding hearts and people who's edges are far too soft, he rarely knows how to act, how to be. Where he fits into all this.

He suspects they'd rather not have him here. Doesn't blame them for it.

But it's because of this that the faint smile surprises him-- not an indication of happiness, no, but there's something in it. Some subtle form of acknowledgement and as such Giovanni moves a few steps closer, makes to crouch down beside his fellow teammate and the cooling body of their fallen ally.]

I suppose it is, yes.

[It's not as though he doesn't know what that's like. To see the bodies of people that had mattered to him (had been the only thing that mattered) shattered and broken and ripped apart, lying in pools of their own livid blood, and that situation had been different to this (infinitely worse), but he's still living in its shadow even now. He'd known it, once, how it felt to be affected by such deaths. To be surrounded by it, crushed beneath their weight. Maybe that's what his teammate is feeling now, to a lesser extent. Perhaps that's how it feels to him.]

Is there something we ought to do? Move the body, perhaps.

[And again, he's trying. He is.]

[banded]

[George's presence serves as a reminder of what Scott can and can't accomplish. He had tried to protect the man from Mettaton's accusations, but that couldn't protect him from this. Would it have been fair to do that? Mavahari might not be alive otherwise. It's hard to say what would've been the right way to approach this situation, but he does know that he wishes it could be better. Better is something, at least. "Better" is tangible.

"Better" is sometimes also impossible to obtain.

He considers Giovanni's question, not having registered what to do about the body. Back home, there's a system in place, a plan to ensure that people don't catch wind of why so many bodies drop because of the supernatural circumstances of Beacon Hills. But there's no Sheriff here, or Chris Argent, or anything—and in that, Scott realizes that whoever loved George back in his own home world will never see him again. They'll never even know why he disappeared for good.

It's up to him to work in the place of Stiles' dad and Chris. His head lifts up, scanning the area.]

Some of the supplies that got brought in ... [It's a thought without context, spoken aloud.] I think there should be some blankets there. We won't need them anymore. We can wrap him up, and carry him back through together.

[ofobedience]

[For just a moment, he's feels a vague kind of surprise in the wake of that suggestion, and there's that curious canine tilt of his head, a small act of incomprehension. he can't think why Scott would want to bring the body back with them-- move it, yes, find a place to call its final rest maybe, but why bring back an empty husk that no longer contains anything but the slow process of degradation?

He doesn't say that, though. Knows that the done thing for many is to bury or burn their dead, even if it's something he's only read about in books surreptitiously purloined from Mother's library now and again, or snatched overheard conversations when he'd been stalking the denizens of the Underground-- it's not as though he'd ever had such an experience for himself. What She did with all the corpses, his siblings, Lily's body...in truth, he simply doesn't know. Doesn't want to know. Doubts it was anything good.

And so after a moment he nods, rises back to his feet and - with only a fractional delay, a subtle kind of hesitation - extends one pale hand toward his kneeling colleague.]

All right. Let's do that.

[banded]

[The moment itself isn't long, but it's noticeable enough that Scott looks up and meets Giovanni's eyes just to show understanding. He doesn't smile, exactly, but there's some relief in his gaze, and some appreciation. Having someone humor him on the matter helps a lot. Having someone there with him helps a lot, and Scott is always glad to have allies in what he's doing. He appreciates it, no matter who the person is, and he appreciates this—because he knows their different points of view. He knows the weight of this action.

He proceeds to nod before he takes Giovanni's hand, rising up to stand alongside him.]

We should be able to find what we need quickly. I think people know better than to mess with George right now. [Mahavari is keeping watch from a distance, and for good reason. No one will loot this body today. And if they try, they'll likely see an ugly side from both the Zymandis agent and Scott himself.]

[ofobedience]

[He nods, just once, a small sign of agreement. He can't think why anyone would bother with the corpse, doubts anyone will rifle through its pockets for trinkets or things they can use when they're leaving this place behind them soon, and scavenging is no longer needed. So instead he begins to scan the area for discarded supplies. Spots a nondescript pile at the far side of the room that seems likely.]

Over there, perhaps. In the far corner. It's as you say...I doubt anyone will care if we take them, now.

[And he'll start moving in that direction, casting a glance back over his shoulder to ascertain whether Scott is coming along.]

[banded]

And if they care, they've probably already claimed it. Kinda like a security blanket. [Does Giovanni know what a security blanket is? Unlike some of his other random references, he doesn't think to clarify it. He plods alongside him, eyes taking note of everyone gathering their bearings in his periphery. He's glad that the fighting is over. He's glad that this is over. It feels like it does in Beacon Hills after everything is over.

The fact that they have someone dead to bury ... adds to that sensation almost too well. He wishes that weren't the case.]

I've—been assuming, you know, that you don't normally do this, by the way. [These words come out of Scott's mouth when they reach the pile of forgotten blankets.] I think I'm right. [A beat.] So, thanks. For helping me. [A meaningful glance should be enough, but he likes saying it, too.]

[ofobedience]

[No, he doesn't know what Scott means by security blanket, but rather than ask he just moves silently, his face an uncomprehending blank. It's hardly a new thing for him, to struggle to grasp at the meaning of things people say here, his experience of the world too divergent to make understanding clear. But he's accustomed to it by now, in a sense. Has become used to feeling at odds with the rest of the team, both in small ways like this, and the larger ideological kind, too.

He remains silent then up until Scott speaks again, and there's an infinitesimal faltering moment as his hand reaches to take one of the discarded blankets, a fractional awkward pause created by the unexpected words. Because he's right, of course. This isn't something he usually bothers to do. Ordinarily, it wouldn't so much as cross his mind, and now that Scott is directly attending to it, it leaves him feeling momentarily confused by his own actions. Uncertain.

But then he finishes reaching for the blanket, lifts it. His features impassive, betraying none of his feelings.]

There's no need for thanks, hahah. You assisted me back on the prison ship. It's my understanding that this is the way teams are supposed to act.

[Although even the way he says it implies that this is a new revelation for him, that he's only just beginning to understand how it's supposed to work.]

[banded]

[Scott holds out the blanket in front of him, ensuring that it's long enough to hold George's body. When he's satisfied with his findings, he scrunches it back up, bundling it in his arms as he prepares to turn back. Giovanni's words aren't lost on him, but he's focused on multitasking.]

You aren't wrong. But you're here because you want to be here. You didn't have to help me.

[That's a little of Scott optimism bleeding through. He can't help it. But if Giovanni feels more at ease with seeing it as a teamwork activity, he'll accept that. He just wants to make certain that Giovanni is aware that it's not anywhere near as simple as that.]

[ofobedience]

[Not nearly as simple as that, and on some level Giovanni knows it, feels it pressing against his consciousness despite his weak sense of self-awareness. More and more, bit by incremental bit, he's felt himself wanting to be less at odds with those around him here, to try to do what they want of him rather than what he's been conditioned to do. It's not as though he's ever quite belonged anywhere, and even whilst some significant part of him niggles and nags at the back of his mind, telling him he ought not to fit anywhere but back there, do only what She'd want him to do, there's a growing sense in him that perhaps this is his pack now, and - almost - he wants it to be. ]

Perhaps not.

[Is all he says. A vague kind of acknowledgement as he begins to walk back in the direction of George's body. But it's an acknowledgement nonetheless.]