:quality(75)/curiosity-data.s3.amazonaws.com/images/content/thumbnail/standard/e08157f8-0b8b-495b-ba6e-af374c49d84b.png)
the depths below.exploring the caverns.All of you will have the same entrance into the caverns -- it will involve going underwater and traveling about one hundred feet through a tunnel which breaks into into a massive cavern, full of air. The breeze is mysteriously fresh, for being both underground and underwater, and before you are three massive dark tunnels. It's hard to decide which one to go toward, but inevitably, you are drawn toward a specific tunnel.
For your top level comments, include what group you are in your subject line. . You will be in the caverns for roughly one week's time in order to get to the information at hand. That doesn't mean you have to stay below that long, but be prepared to pack whatever you need in order to live down there for that long There will be fish to hunt in the waters and the water itself is fresh, but sleeping on the cold marble-like surface might suck, especially if you're wet. And . . . once you get into the meat of things, what are you going to find? group a.
The tunnel by which group A travels down is narrow, to the point of claustrophobia. And along the way, you will run into several obstacles. You will have to travel through underwater tunnels that, again, are narrow and claustrophobic. Stalagmites and stalacites make navigating through the waters treachorous, and getting stuck is not an impossibility.
Additionally, as you move through the pathways (both water and not), you begin to notice little lights flickering in the water. At first, you think it may be crystals sparkling in the water . . . but upon closer inspection, you begin to realize that they are bioluminescent eels. How cool! However, about halfway into your journey, you begin to notice that theyre getting a bit . . . larger. And, should you allow yourself to be attacked by them, not only do they bite, they seem to suck out your energy. These eels feast on magical energy, and suffering a bite from one of these eels will completely eradicate your Astoria granted powers for five hours. Have fun with that.
Finally, at the end of your journey, you will reach what feels like a dead end . . . in that you come upon a small alcove type area, with no discernable exit. And, upon the far wall, you see what appear to be cave drawings. Intricately carved into the stone, with a language surrounding the pictographs that no one understands, are what appears to be two women. One has longer hair, to her shoulders, holding a white orb in her hand. The other, with cropped hair, appears to be holding a blackened orb in her hand. Their arms are intertwined, connected, but there is a large fracture in the rock, scorched across the woman drawn in white, as if someone (or something) has attempted to blast it to bits.
Eventually, upon some investigating, you come across words that you, somehow, do understand, scrawed in a messy text, carved into the stone. Those words?
group b.
The tunnels that Group B heads down are considerably wide, all things considered. Most of the journey in the tunnels for Group B is above-ground and doesn't involve going underwater . . . which may be a good thing, as the water pathways in this tunnel are deep. The water is still crystal clear, but you somehow still can't see the bottom of it. It looks as if it goes on forever . . . and ever . . . and ever . . .
Eventually, though, you come into a second massive cavern, with a huge underground lake. The lake is full of dark shapes that dart underneath the surface -- horses, with the tails of fish, as they pop up to the surface for a gulp or two of air. But when they notice the strangers on the shores of their territory, they circle ranks and edge themselves closer . . . and if you get too close to the shore, you may feel teeth sink into the edge of your coat and an abrupt tug to be pulled into the water.
To be clear -- the kelpies themselves are not particularly violent. However, they've never seen otherworlders like you before, and are definitely scared. Not fighting against them will ensure their slow trust, and they will generally leave you alone. But if you attack them? They'll fight back, and they will drag you down to the depths below without a second thought in order to protect their own.
Eventually, you come across a third massive cavern, with another underground lake. The water seems to sparkle with energy -- tiny lights dance across the water, skipping across the surface without a care in the world. Touching the water will result in temporary paralysis of whatever you use to touch it -- magic, so powerful that you cannot possibly comprehend it. The energy is too much to handle, and you, too, cannot see the bottom of this lake. However, scattered across the walls, are runes carved into the marble. It's a language you do not understand, but you do come across something that you manage to understand . . . tucked amongst the runic symbols:
 group c.
Group C enters into a beautiful crystalized tunnel, with white crystals jutting out into the tunnel. It looks beautiful, but it makes for treacherous going -- the crystals are razor sharp, and sliding through them requires elegance and grace to avoid being turned into ribbons. Move slowly -- you need to in order to make it through this maze of crystals.
Eventually, you make it to a wider tunnel with various deep pools of water scattered along the floor. The pools seem to be endlessly deep, reaching to impossible depths that you cannot see. However, the pools seem to have an . . . alluring feel to them. You are drawn closer to them, curious, inquisitive . . . you want to get into them . . . and if you dip into the pools, watery arms of the sprites that live within these pools glide around you, and coax you into the depths below . . . but you feel calm, serene. Hopefully someone is looking out for you.
But as you move through the tunnel with the pools, you begin to notice signs of life. Not necessarily plant life, or animal life, but signs that people are here. There are footsteps from one pool to the next, wet markings that seem to be permanently wet no matter how much you wipe them away. There are watermarks along the walls, handprints against the marble. And as you begin to walk, begin to notice messages scrawled along the walls, carved deep into the marble.
Every single word is the same.
group d.
Unlike those below the surface, the lakeside shores of Lake Dona seem to be relatively peaceful. Nessie is lazily swimming around and offering rides to those that need it, and campfires are soon built up around this makeshift camp of those who are sitting around to wait. The network does work with those in the caverns, so keeping in contact is far easier than it was in Struxta!
However, in the last days of the investigation, as Group A, B, and C begin to discover the messages in the caverns, storm clouds begin to roll in. It begins to downpour, a frightening crack of lightning streaking across the side with alarming regularity. And, on the final day of the exploration, a voice seems to float through the deluge. And it isn't Astoria's. But it seems to be . . . odd. And suddenly, a message appears on your watches.
¿ɯǝ ɐǝɹɥ ʎon ɐɔu ˙nʎo ɥǝdl ʇo ǝuǝp ᴉ ˙ʎno ɥǝdl ʇo ɐʍʇu ᴉ ¿ɯǝ ǝɥɐɹ nʎo ɔuɐ
What in the hell could that be?
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acatalepsy_logs2018-10-04 09:55 pm
no subject
[Again Hank gets a look of surprise, followed by narrow-eyed thought. Hank doesn't bother trying to bring that thought to any real conclusions, though, other than: Huh, no wonder he talked to me in audio when no one else did, and His watch mic's not bad, he just sounds like that.]
Simon.
[There are other questions, of course, lots of questions that get raised once Hank recognizes that voice. Does it say something about Hank's career, though, that he's gotten really good at not asking?
Hank still looks thoughtful, though, for a moment. Then he looks dry, to match his voice.]
What's wrong, I get your suit wet?
no subject
[ Not the best comeback, but. Not even a “what are you, you sounded normal”? It’s a pretty smooth recovery for somebody who looked ready to run for his life a moment ago, so Simon closes the distance between them, slightly, approaching where Hank’s sitting. ]
Hank, right? [ He looks out across the lake, because he keeps expecting to see something happen, and also this is usually the part where people give unnerved looks to Simon’s freaky not-face, which he prefers to be as close as possible to not present for. ]
no subject
His hand digs its fingers into the dirt. They're not numb any more, like they were after he was sick, and feeling anything is still sort of a lot, so the gesture's distracting. It helps. He straightens up, tries sitting at the same angle he'd been before he started leaning away, and hopes getting used to talking to Cayde without staring at Cayde's weird robo face is enough practice that he doesn't start staring at this one. Because, let's be real, he doesn't really want to see.
He doesn't know much about this guy, but the little he does know is enough to make him want to at least try not to be a dick about whatever's going on in there. About whatever's going on under there.
Poor bastard.
He looks in the vague direction of the guy's diving suit when he talks to him, his voice casual, focusing on his fingers in the grass. ]
Yeah, and Sumo's over there, being a lump. I'm kind of sick of trying to get him to play, so graffiti actually sounds real good right about now. You're sure you don't mind that I, uh- [He mimes a throw, the gesture ending toward the spot the fruit hit a minute ago.] - cause you looked kind of pissed. I mean-
[As much as you can look pissed off, wow, how about Hank doesn't end his sentence with that. So he just ends it with a grimace and a shrug, instead, looking kind of cautiously up toward the head of the diving suit to see if Simon's going to start looking back.]
no subject
Maybe it’s the red eyes. Red eyes are generally accepted to be pretty bad news.
He can sense Hank’s unease — not that he needs to, he can just see it, though he appreciates the effort to look normal — and comes to a stop a bit further away than he was originally planning, fingers drumming at his sides, but they can still hear each other.
Maybe Simon’s particularly primed to see Hank’s fear when their first conversation spelled out so vividly that the guy doesn’t have anything like this in his world. That it was probably like Simon’s used to be. ]
No, it- it just startled me. Came out of nowhere. [ Simon’s criteria for ‘startling’ is pretty loose these days, but that was pretty startling, bro. ]
Were you trying to get him to fetch it?
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[He looks up toward Simon's face again. He's prepared for it this time, although he still doesn't really focus on any of its details.]
Uh- I guess you weren't serious about that coloring book thing, right? Cause I'd take that.
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So yeah it’s not great. Visually. Or olfactorily. The smell is weird and not good and I’m sorry. ]
If I find one, it’s yours.
[ Simon doesn’t have enough post-robot dog experience to have much of an idea of how dogs react to his everything, but that one he met in Struxta didn’t seem to be fazed by him, and Sumo doesn’t seem to be fazed by... anything.
Which is just as well. Dogs are cool. ] He doesn’t seem to mind that you’re talking to a freaky robot.
[ you know just breaking the ice here ]
no subject
Eh, well, he's met a couple robots since he got here. The only one that even acts like one is the one from back where I come from, and even then... [Hank raises a hand and tilts it back and forth because even then, Connor's weird. Connor's Connor. Luckily they're not talking about him.] So, I don't know. Maybe he'll mind a freaky robot when he meets one. Till then, want me to call him over? Meeting a new person'll give him something to do for a minute.
no subject
[ so Simon takes a cross-legged sitting position right where he is, solidly not to close to Hank. The vote of “not a freaky robot” confidence is nice of him, though.
Good thing Sumo isn’t a cadaver dog, maybe he possibly won’t be bothered by a cyborg zombie!! ]
I like dogs... kind of wish I could’ve had one on Earth.
[ Probably just as well.
Hank’s comment intrigues him, though, and he glances over at him, briefly. Simon had kind of assumed Hank’s world was like his... well, his when it was ‘his’. There weren’t robots in 2015; at least, not ones you and your dog could be acquaintances with. ]
What, uh, year are you from?
[ he can’t remember the last time he actually asked somebody this. Most of the people he’s met on his multiverse adventures have been from such vastly different universes that it hasn’t really been relevant. Wouldn’t be any frame of time he could relate to his own. ]
no subject
[He says it distractedly, focusing mostly on trying to hype Sumo enough to get him to come over. It involves a lot of fake enthusiasm on Hank's part, and not a lot of dignity. Finally he sighs, standing up to call him, and the blur of Sumo in the distance starts to slowly trot closer. Hank watches him a second before looking at Simon assentingly. Then, you know, he's reminded that there's not that much there to assess. Asking the guy about his world could make him feel like shit or it could put him at ease, and Hank will just have to play it by ear to see which it is.]
What kinda dog would have got? Are you a lapdog guy, get a teeny little chihuahua and keep it with you everywhere?
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Those aren’t really dogs. [ there’s a sort of distracted amusement at the edge of his voice, having just watched a man try to energize a gentle, saggy mountain of no fucks to give. Saint Bernards were kind of rare in the city, to say the least. ]
I’m not sure Sumo’s really a dog, either. Maybe something in the middle, but I lived in an apartment, so even a chihuahua wouldn’t have worked out.
[ talking about his world is a little of column A, a little of column B. He’s had enough of a weird multiverse travel career by now that it could maybe be said that he’s formed some kind of discrete Robot Simon life, entirely new memories that all took place in this form and separate him further from his previous existence. And it’s not like his experiences have been entirely bad, but anything that pulls him even more from his tenuous connection to his human life is also Thanks I Hate It a little.
So he’ll take the vague shit feeling, tempered by, you know, denial and the fact that the way his life and planet ended feel less real the more time he spends in outer fucking space. ]
that is the most perfect description of sumo that i have ever read
[Hank raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, faking offense.]
Sumo's the doggest dog you'll ever meet and don't you forget it. And you totally could have got a chihuahua. I thought that was where you were supposed to keep em, where the neighbours will hear every time it starts yapping at its own fart, or whatever the hell they do. That's how apartments work, right? This here's the first time I've even sort of been in one in forever, think I sort of forgot how it goes.
in this house we love and respect elderly bear
Where’d you live? Might even be somewhere I’ve heard of.
[ A 2038 Earth with basketball, the Pope, and Madonna can’t be that different from Simon’s, right?
The Earthlings in the Circle he knows best are the YoRHa androids and Konoha, so... you know, in comparison Hank’s sounds like it must be identical. ]
good b/c that's a requirement for hanging out with hank
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That’s just how thin on the ground Regular Earths are around here. ]
Toronto. [ and after a small pause because he never specified it, he adds: ] 2015. Well, originally.
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[But he does study Simon for a couple seconds, curious, thinking about that 'originally'. Does he want to follow that up? A part of him does, but the smarter parts of him tell it to shut up. If it comes up, he'll find out. If it doesn't, hell, whatever the story is there was probably sad and gross anyway.]
Twenty fifteen, so I was, uh... About thirty. You sound around that age, right, maybe we could of hung out.
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[ no, he’d have to be 27 now, he wasn’t far off when he was scanned — but even if time moves normally here, does it even matter? Probably not. ]
That would’ve— wait, what’s your Detroit like? If it’s anything like mine was, you’d have to come to Canada.
[ noah fence.
As for the palpable surrealism of this conversation — Simon’s kind of used to it, the ‘talking about completely normal things while they just ignore that he’s a robot monster and he secretly feels perpetually weird existing’ part, only making eye contact intermittently, and all that... ...stuff. ]
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[Hank points a warning finger at him, raising his eyebrows before Sumo's approach gives him something to look away at and he puts an arm around him, petting him to let him know everything's cool, despite god knows what terrible shit he's smelling with that advanced dog nose from the maybe-a-robot, maybe-a-person over there.
Hank's pretty sure he's a person, but the guy called himself a robot. Hank's pretty sure neither of them want Hank to know for sure, so fuck it. Point is, he isn't totally sure what Sumo's going to think. The chances Sumo won't like whatever he's smelling are pretty low, though, so Hank's not too worried about it.]
Don't answer that before thinking real careful about you want to say to a guy who's lived there his whole life.
[Sumo pretty much ignores Hank's petting. He's only got eyes for Simon, sliding out from under Hank's hand to do some pretty intent sniffing at whatever part of Simon happens to be the closest.]
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Okay, okay, set me straight then. Tell me what it’s like in Detroit in 2038.
[ Simon might have a similar reaction to criticism of Toronto, even if it was similarly.... rife with violent crime. Home is home. ]
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[Hank waits a second, letting the anticipation build, then gives a crooked little grin.]
Shitty. But come on, like it's bad enough that you'd of made me go all the way to your place to hang out.
Besides, Sumo likes Detroit just fine. Don't you, boy?
[Sumo's too busy doing all the sniffing he is physically capable of to answer. He snorts loudly, then sniffs at Simon's hand a little more before trying to lick it. He only tries to lick once, so far - Hank thinks he's still trying to figure out what Simon is.]
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Hey, it'd be worth the trip. Toronto's great... well, it was in 2015.
[ he sounds ridiculously wistful and fond about this. Torontonians who think all of Canada is Toronto which by the way is a world-class city are a stereotype, just like the same people from San Francisco and New York City and so on... but also they totally exist and Simon is one of them. ]
No freaky robots, either.
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[Sumo allows the pat, snorts again, then sits there a couple seconds before inspecting Simon again - this time for anything even vaguely resembling a pocket that he can paw at and try to dig into. If he does find something to paw at he'll be gentle about it - Sumo's a very gentle dog, even when he's behaving badly, which is one of the reasons Hank got him - but it'll still make Hank frown and study Simon's posture, trying to figure out if he minds.]
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Simon’s starting to get the sense that Hank maybe... doesn’t like robots. ]
Why’s that? What kind of robots are we talking about, exactly? -Sorry, big guy, I don’t have anything. [ but he does raise his arms slightly, you know, in the way that you do when you are trying to clear all possible obstacles in order to help a dog come to terms with their impending foodless disappointment.
...he really needs to get that oxygen tank replaced with a backpack or something. And then put treats in it. Other things, that would be useful, but also treats. ]
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[Sumo walks under Simon's arms, sniffs at the backs of his knees, walks between his legs, paws at him for a second, and then audibly gives up, giving a deep sigh and flopping down on top of Simon's feet. Hank half-smiles at him for a second, then glances up at Simon.]
Hey uh, if you want me to try and move him let me know, I can't tell if he's got you pinned there.