
: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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no subject
That is, Lucina frowns a little to hear it. Statements like that don't exactly help her difficulty comprehending Connor's personhood. Trying to put it into terms she herself can understand is what leads to conversations like these, neither participating individual especially happy or enjoying themselves.
Needing to do something with her hands, she starts to pull apart the tangles in her damp hair before they can get too severe. ]
Are you? Wanting to live is... is natural.
[ So is wanting to die, she supposes, thinking of the Grimleal - but Lucina doesn't believe Connor falls under either of those two categories. ]
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[Funny, but Connor has been known to fidget with his hands when the conversation takes a slide towards the uneasy, too. This is no exception, though he claps them behind his back, fingers flexing, keeping them out of view.]
I’m only a machine, and therefore notions of living and death do not apply in the same manner. That being said—
[His answer back in Detroit. He remembers Hank’s look. Expectant. A part of Connor believes he might have really pulled the trigger that night.]
—my preference is that I remain online and functioning to the best of my ability. So that I can continue to aid the other members of the Circle here if and when they need me.
no subject
That said, some of his answer is comforting. He isn't indifferent. Indifference, Lucina thinks, would have been far worse. It's not something she can cope with. ]
You said I declared us friends. [ And she did, after a fashion, in a way that she had half-meant at the time but wholly means now, because she chooses to. ]
Well, I do not like to see my friends imperiled. Protecting them - protecting you - is important to me.
[ She looks him straight on, unflinching. ]
Will you let me?
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But now? Thoughts stir in his head that hadn’t existed mere months prior. Doubts that are more easily dealt with when tucked away in some tight corner of his head. Even when Lucina speaks now, he can feel them writhing around, wanting to buoy back up to the surface.]
I can apply that way of thinking to myself, as well, you know. It’s only fair.
[This argument is less of a knee-jerk reaction and more of a sincere sentiment.]
Our priorities might reach an impasse with each other, as a result.
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[ Coming from Lucina, that's hypocrisy of the highest order! Not that she has the self-awareness to really address that. It isn't defensively said, though - just an observation, if a sharp one.
Following her words, something changes in the way her shoulders sit. Some fight dissipates. It doesn't help to make things harder. Connor may be difficult to comprehend, but she can judge the kindness in his gestures (or what she's better off believing is kindness)—helping her with her watch, over and over. Risking himself to keep her safe, for all that chafes at that same risk.
He's worth calling friend. ]
...but very well. If we can both work to keep each other out of dire situations, so be it.
[ And when it comes down to him vs. her, one day, well. They'll deal with that then. ]
no subject
I-
[But he lets her finish, ending in a half-compromise. Two alike natures made to clash with each other when the time came; maybe that'll be sooner rather than later, but in the end, as long as they were both compelled to protect each other, he'd have to accept this reality. And simply be the one who would act faster, quicker on the proverbial draw when it came to protecting her than the other way around.]
I think that would be for the best. Teamwork employed to keep the both of safe would be our priority, of course, above all else. I think it's fair to say that we can both agree on that?
I'm angry about this tag
Her hand extends a little, fingers curling back toward the safety of her palm for a moment. She's always been somewhat of a singular individual. The idea of aligning herself - not with, but running parallel along - the interests of someone else is... is a gamble. It always in. And she hates gambling.
In the end, she extends her hand outward, open. A firm grasp for him to take; the punctuation of an agreement. She certainly doesn't want to touch him again, feeling how cold and plastic he is, but she will. She won't shy away from it.
He may have seen her hesitate. He probably did. Lucina isn't as subtle as she likes to believe. There's a lot of things about herself that could fit that descriptor. ]
Yes, I agree. [ A small smile. ] I'm glad to hear you say that, Connor.
then i've done my job
And just as quickly, a list queues up in his mind, filled with reasons why she might hesitate. Disagreeing to his assessment, to his compromise. Not wishing to touch him, for whatever reason that might be. Did he offend? He wonders.
But what action she does decide to show overrides all of that. An outstretched hand, rendering what he's seen moot. Her want to accept these terms has been deemed more important, and Connor is glad for it. He reaches out to claps his hand against hers (it is cold, still wet, the only warmth is the energy carried by his Thirium, not temperate enough to break through the chill), and shakes.]
Of course. In the end, it's beneficial to both of us.
[He releases her hand.]
And I never did thank you for trying to help me. So... well. Thank you.
no subject
Of course. If you ever need help, you only have to ask.
[ Is this them reaching Level B in their support? ]
no subject
[Definitely rank B in their support.]
And the same goes for you, as well.
[Eyes move down briefly to the hilt of her blade, but Connor thinks nothing of it. It might just be a tic of someone used to relying on a sword for protection, though he has the feeling hers is of particular worth to her.]
I’m glad that your blade is unharmed, too.
[His remark is born of these idle thoughts.]
no subject
Rather than be embarrassed that she, you know, prioritised a blade over her own life, she merely looks pleased. Only a true friend understands the link between a soldier and her weapon of preference! ]
I wouldn't dare imperil Falchion, [ she says with... with complete earnestness.
It's weird. ]
Having it in my possession is a matter of grave trust.
[ Lucina, you are weird. ]
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Connor isn’t oblivious to the very high regard she holds her sword in — it was very difficult to not notice the way that she left it on dry land as they both careened into the water, even if the moment was split-second at best. Connor is observant. He just notices these things.
But where most might hike up a brow at this declaration, Connor only looks more curious despite himself. He gives the sword a second glance, more scrutinizing this time.]
Falchion. [-he echoes.] A matter of trust meaning that it was entrusted to you? Or am I misunderstanding?
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[ She starts to move away from the lip of the lake, but there's an ease and slowness to her movements that suggest Connor is welcome to follow. Her sodden boots leave clear, damp prints across the stone and water drips off her cape and hair. ]
It was my father's. As his heir, keeping it safe is my responsibility.
[ ...which may be slightly odd to hear because she's only ever described Chrom in present tense before. Lucina doesn't recognise the distinction.
Time travel is a headache. ]
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Her father's. But something sticks up like a rogue nail in that short explanation, something that he cross-references briefly with the conversations he's had with Lucina thus far. Finds the inconsistency in a matter of seconds.]
It was your father's? [Emphasis on was, to press the real point behind his question.]
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Well, yes.
...
It is.
[ Oh, sure. That was so convincing. ]
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[Nitpicking the details, maybe, but he's not so sure. He's attempting to parse her reaction, something strange sticking like burs in his mind. It isn't the most convincing, which only causes curiosity to barrel forward at its normal pace for Connor -- that is, like a train gone off its steel tracks.]
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[ That's... not an answer, Lucina.
Her expression has a neutrality to it that may border on severe, but that's honestly just how her face is. Underneath it, she's far more contemplative than genuinely perturbed. She's asking herself, can she trust him? Her immediate inclination is a curbed tongue. Pushing past it - because not everything is a matter of betrayal, blood-bred politics, or dead fathers - she inhales softly. Not quite a sigh; but something.
No, she'll likely never figure out that he has no brake with which to override his question pursuant tendencies, and polite demurrals could last forever... That sounds exhausting, though. ]
I suspect a concrete explanation is the only way to satisfy you. [ There's something almost... wry, there. Maybe? ] Once this excursion is over, I'd be glad [ ish ] to oblige.
no subject
His instincts, as often are they case, weren't wrong. Led to the story behind Falchion, he still finds it hard to tamp down his curiosity, entrenched in the ones and zeroes of his coding. The tenets of his RK800 programming telling him that no, he wishes to know now, that he should continue to ask questions, that he can fall upon ancillary negotiation subroutines if need be-
The other part of him, tempered by courtesy and something else a little harder to pin down, simply accepts the compromise as it is.]
All right. Later, then. That's likely wise, anyway; we should rightfully focus on the task at hand.
[as i'm writing this i realized i didn't mean to namedrop your UN, but here we are
At any rate, they'll continue their trek. Hopefully uninterrupted by any lingering kelpies for the rest of the way.]