open | no need to be afraid there —

[realists]

WHO: ANYONE ( outside the sim )
WHERE: New Magellan
WHEN: During Phase Two
WHAT: Cassius Rescue Mission!
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Violence, monsters, possible death, etc

--

> WELCOME TO NEW MAGELLAN

The mission is simple: get Cassius before Johann can delete him. Simple.

The Displaced slip between cities through the gates, arriving in New Magellan with ease and moving on to the laboratory where Cassius is located. It's frigid, the southern tip of the South American peninsula a collection of dry, cold islands, and creeping wintery chills, the temperature as unfriendly as the mission they're moving toward.

Cassius's map leads them on a road outside the city which brings them to the laboratory quickly enough and they're able to get into the facility itself with little trouble.

It's not until they're inside that the trouble begins.

> WHO KNOWS WHAT MAY BE LURKING

The laboratory is devoid of people, seemingly abandoned, and it's not hard to see why. Once they get inside, the monsters set upon them. Some are the same golden-eyed creatures that have become strangely familiar to the Displaced, all sorts of creatures just slightly off in some way, their DNA altered, modified, spliced, warped.

◉ A large snake, except that it also has four small legs (two near the front of its body, two near the back) which allow it to skitter around rather than slither, making it much faster than any snake has a right to be. It's large and strong enough to strangle its victim, making it difficult to remove by a single person. Don't let it unhinge its jaw, it's got way too many teeth.
◉ A hyena-creature with impressive amounts of agility, due to the fact that it seems like almost all of its joints are double-jointed. It can turn its head almost completely around as well, making it an extremely skilled hunter. Its fangs protrude from the top of its mouth in rows of three like a shark. Even if it's disemboweled or it loses a limb, this creature will still continue to attack in a frenzy.
◉ A stag beetle, except that it's the size of a medium-sized dog. It's still able to fly and its pincers can do damage if it's allowed to get too close. Worse than that, they tend to move in swarms of three or four. Beneath the hard shell are human-like eyes with dilated pupils that follow shadows and light.
◉ A humanoid creature that stands on two legs. Its eyes glow in the dark, catching bits of light from a distance. Upon closer inspection, the creature has snake-scale skin, a long, flickering tail, and claws for hands. These scales are incandescent in nature, shimmering whenever they're underneath enough light.
◉A sloth-like mimic that cries from a distance for help from hidden, high places. Once it hears a voice, it can mimic it, drawing someone in toward it due to it sounding like another Displaced. Getting too close will leave them within reach of the creature that's all arms and little else, leaving a toxic and poisonous trap to weaken its prey. Its hiding places include the rafters, where it may drop on those looking for their friends. Under certain lights, the slothly creature's eyes are humanoid in appearance, sharp and aware — yet still gold.
◉ Humanoid creatures that give off a thick, putrid smell of decay. Not unlike zombies, they move sluggishly, but upon closer inspection, it appears that something is off about these people. They have claws, sharp rows of teeth, and skin that flakes off with every shuffle of their feet. Potentially some early or later stage experiment of the snake-skinned humanoids. They're highly aggressive and will follow someone with the intention of attacking until they're incapacitated.
◉ A cross-breed insect that looks like a mix of a wasp and a mosquito, but is only the size of a dime. Its sting can draw out a large amount of blood, sedating the individual. The toxin that they inject will leave large, red welts, depending on the efficiency of the immune system. They're blotchy and painful. Once they have found a target, they will swarm around that individual all at once.
◉ A naked creature resembling a dog with a reptile's body, with patches of hair. This creature has long rows of crooked fangs protruding from its lips, mouth and tongue, with a large, dilated eye. It has sharp scales on its back to keep it from being touched, but it has a thirst for blood. This creature will attempt to surprise its prey from around corners, jumping onto someone's shoulders with hopes of sticking to them and drawing blood like a reptilian tick.

In addition to the type of monsters seen previously in the research facility outside New Amsterdam, there is an even more horrifying threat, a new monster:

◉ An overwhelming brand of eyeless, bipedal creatures with large rows of teeth that are 7-to-8 feet tall. They're both incredibly aggressive and violent, ready to tear apart anything that comes close to them with open jaws. It'll almost seem like they're inflicted with an insatiable hunger. They're fast, strong, and merciless. And they are not an easy kill.

All of the monsters, both new and old models, will rapidly regenerate and continue to fight even with mortal injuries, unless they are taken out with a killing blow (a head taken out, their heart located and removed, or they're burnt to a crisp). No matter how physically unsettling it may be.

Hopefully someone brought a flamethrower.

> OOC NOTES

This is part of the SAVE CASSIUS PLOT and so it's located outside the simulation, but everyone that has since been woken up by Gabriel and Tony and brought out of New Amsterdam can also participate. For more details, please see the mod write up HERE. This is just for the infiltration/monster fighting, the success or failure of the mission will be addressed in the aftermath post.

Comments

[northerndragon]

[He watches her slowly dig about in the bag. He's ready to offer to help, but he doesn't -- yet.]

He must have made good on some of them, if people were willing to come to his rescue.

You're hurt.

[His gaze flicks down to her wrist.]

[dragonwarder]

I think there are things in this world that encourage Cassius' well-being beyond the favors he offers.

[She does not notice until he points it out. Briefly, she withdraws to look, and then shakes her head. The rummaging resumes.]

It will heal. Though it may need to be stitched closed, when we return to New Amsterdam.

[Daenerys eventually gives up trying to pull clothes out one by one and instead turns the bag over and shakes it a few times in an attempt to remove the contents all at once.]

[northerndragon]

May need to be stitched closed sooner than that. If there are bandages around this place --

[He casts a dim ironic glance over his shoulder. There's a good chance they've burned them all.

But his expression changes as he watches her struggle with the bag. It makes him begin to frown. He doesn't take the bag from her like someone would a child, but he does reach into it and pull out her remaining clothes, handing them to her, making it less of a struggle.]

[dragonwarder]

I should have brought them, but I did not. It is unusual for anything to pierce so deeply.

[Her pride is wounded by his gesture, and is evident by the way her brow dips and her posture shifts slightly. But, in spite of that, she knows well enough that Jon is only trying to be kind. Trying to help.]

Thank you.

[She can manage that, at least. Clothing herself will be easy enough — that is, until she needs to pull them over her arms. She’d brought a loose, black and red dress on purpose, so that she would not have to wriggle herself into anything too tight while she was tired and injured.

But she moves it over her arm gingerly, and the sleeves are short enough that the wound is free to breathe.]

[northerndragon]

[The words don’t match her face, so he frowns a little even as he nods... but as she begins to dress herself, he looks off in the opposite direction again. It’s clear that she doesn’t care much about her own nakedness — he wonders where she picked up this boldness — but it would still be rude to stare at her. Even if it weren’t, he wouldn’t be comfortable doing it.]

But things pierce you when you’re in that state? Do you always come out of this with wounds?

[dragonwarder]

If my opponent strikes true enough -- yes. But it takes quite a lot of force to do so.

[And those monsters -- well, they weren't natural. The last time she'd endured a wound like this, it was from another Displaced. One who had unknowiningly taken her powers from her, and attacked her as a dragon.

She does take one of the waterbottles to pour over the wound. Some blood runs off, but the majority of it appears to have cauterized in some way -- albeit deeply.

She pulls a pair of pants out from the bag, but pauses before putting them on underneath the dress as she considers another idea.]

--do you think you can rip these? I can at least wrap it, for the time being.

[northerndragon]

[Watching her clean her own wound, his expression is conflicted. It's always impressive when someone can. At the same time, it is never pleasant to see someone he likes take a wound.

Finally, she offers him a way to help, and he takes it by accepting the breeches she passes to him.]

Of course.

[Tearing it takes the strength of his arms, and for a moment, he considers using Longclaw to make the first cut. But the cloth rips easily enough in the end.]

You want to wrap it yourself? You learn to fight, you learn to stanch minor wounds, but -- sometimes another pair of hands helps.

[dragonwarder]

[He asks, rather than foisting his services upon her. For that, she gives him credit where it is due, though she does take time to weigh her pride against what is practical.]

Your hands will fare better than my own.

[After all, she'd never quite get the torque she needs to wrap her arm, with spikes awkwardly interrupting the smoothness of her skin and the angry red cavern of the cut.]

If you are willing.

[northerndragon]

[He begins wrapping. His touch is both firm and gentle. They’ll get it over with, but not with undue discomfort for her.]

Daenerys. Let’s settle something. I’m always willing to help you. It doesn’t mean you always want to be helped.

You — I’m always willing to take your help. If I don’t wish for aid, I’ll tell you.

[dragonwarder]

[At first, she takes it as a scolding. There is a defensive frown on her face, one he is no doubt familiar with after several weeks of spending time with her. But if he gives her a few moments, she works out what he is saying on her own.

And the simple acknowledgement, stated aloud, is oddly validating. Blanket permission to foist her help upon him, even in situations where it may not be required. Not that she ever would have asked if a man would allow her help -- they would get it whether they wanted it or not, if she deemed it necessary.

But the declaration that he would never do the same...she cannot help some small embarrassment for how something in her soars with relief.]

Alright.

[She manages to keep any suspicion out of her voice. Instead, what follows is a very sincere:]

Thank you.

[northerndragon]

You don't have to thank me -- but you're welcome. Tell me when you need something like this, or like -- anything.

[That's the other side of what he's saying here: ask for help. Don't struggle when you don't need to. It's easy to try to stand on your own in this world; it's hard to feel like there are any other options. But pride is senseless after a point.]

If it's something I don't want to do, I won't do it. But I don't think you'd ask me for the things I would refuse.

[dragonwarder]

[She was once quite adapt at asking for help, when she was surrounded by people who had earned her trust. Jon had worked hard to earn one of those spots recently, and yet -- she cannot place her hesitation.]

You don't know what I'd ask of you.

[Daenerys offers that more as a challenge than an attempt to disprove him. Did he already trust her and her judgement so readily? Was it his good heart, or foolishness?

Perhaps both. Perhaps she is hoping that he would, in fact, do whatever it was that she might ask of him. That sort of loyalty was in short supply in New Amsterdam.]

And that is why I must thank you. You have no obligation to assist me.

[She is not his queen, after all. If she wants his help again, it would not do if she did not acknowledge his choice.]

[northerndragon]

I don’t. That means I’m trusting you.

[Trusting her not to ask him to do something he cannot and will not do — or, if she does, to accept his refusal with grace.]

There’s no need to thank me. I meant it when I said that I don’t think we have much but each other here. But... [a little shrug; there is nothing ingratiating about how he says this]... that means you have my friendship.

[dragonwarder]

[She could say something about trust, then. About his choice to separate his Kingdom from her's, and how that speaks to just how little trust he has in her.

It's the second thing he says that convinces her not to pick that fight. There were not many people in her life who would have dared used that word -- "friendship". Whether it was for fear of seeming too familiar with the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, or because "friendship" was not a thing most associated with Daenerys Targaryen, it strikes her suddenly how strange the word sounds.

That, and there's something about the phrasing that sounds a bit like "we're each other's only option". But she has more faith in Jon's intentions than to believe that at face value. She could pick at him for it, tease him for not thinking through his words more carefully.

But Daenerys Targaryen doesn't fuck around with trust and loyalty. If he is taking the time to insist while she's prone under his cloak, then they aren't just words. So instead, she gives a small and gracious nod of understanding, and does not thank him again.

Time would tell if that trust would hold up.]