The Legion [Mods] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
letsgolegion) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionmissions2017-01-03 12:57 am
letsgolegion) wrote in legionmissions2017-01-03 12:57 am
Entry tags:
SILENT HORIZON - [Part 1: The In-Between] [modplot]
Who| Everyone who signed up
What| 2 spoopy
Where| In The In-Between, the pocket dimension inside the Silent Horizon
When| After Valor's Day. Mission starts shortly before "No Sanity Clause" and runs simultaneously in game time
Warnings/Notes| Potential warnings for EVERYTHING. This is a horror plot that may tread a lot of ground. Please keep in mind that you can stumble on disturbing stuff in almost any thread. We advise all players to put warnings in the subjects of threads when they lean towards cut-worthy stuff.
The mission was simple. The team had to board the derelict Silent Horizon, a ship with an experimental stardrive, after it finally reappeared in UP space, many hours after it was supposed to reappear, during its first field test. No life signs were aboard, but the presence of several Roboticans on the crew -- who were undetectable by bioscan -- meant that the ship had to be boarded to make sure the Robotican crewmen were gone, too.
The United Planets government, concerned about the loss of the crew members, asked the Legion to step in, in case the threat on board was of a metapowered nature. Due to the massive danger implied by an entire starship crew going missing, the response team sent on the mission was relatively large, more than enough to handle any hostiles. None of this "we'll just send one tiny team to go alone into a giant starship against an unknown threat" business. No, if there was a hostile force on the ship, the plan was "let's drop 25+ Legionnaires on its head." Safety in numbers.
It was a good idea. In theory. In most cases, it would've given them the edge that would've let them face something very nasty without succumbing to it themselves. But in practice, it just meant that it was a much larger team that suddenly went missing after watching the last video log of the previous crew on the command deck.
Screams poured out of the screen the moment it started to play -- automatically -- when they entered the command deck. Onscreen, they saw the original crew murdering each other, tearing each other apart in a blood-soaked rampage.
"Wait, stop! What's wrong with everyone? Why are you --?" cried out one of the Robotican crew members, clearly immune from whatever was causing the madness, but his cries went unheeded as one of his Coluan crew-mates bashed his head clean off with a chair.
After the video played, the darkness swept in, wrapping around the whole team of Legionnaires, making them feel frozen all the way down to their bones and stealing consciousness away from them. When they woke again, they all found themselves separated, waking up in a realm of nightmares.
The halls breathe here -- at least in the places that have walls. They flex in and out, like the passageways inside the lungs. Sometimes the walls give way to open nightmare-scapes, remote and foggy, or bright and alien and exposed. The landscape bends and shifts around them, reacting to their thoughts and fears. And every so often, far off, there is the pitter-pat of something strange moving through this place. Like the sound of many feet -- or hands -- slapping against the ground or flesh-walls.
At some point, there is always a voice that each of them hears, tinny and robotic and distant, warning them of a being called the Faceless, that rules this realm. They're told not to feed from his blood, that if they do they'll be made a part of this place. If they accept his offer, and change forms, they'll eventually bleed to death, and if the Faceless isn't stopped before they die, those that die in their mutated forms will belong to him forever.
It's not the only voice they'll hear, though. This is a land filled with whispers. And screams. And the sounds of begging sometimes, too.
And for some of the Legionnaires, the In-Between speaks to them, touches something deep and dark inside them -- and it's calling them home.
What| 2 spoopy
Where| In The In-Between, the pocket dimension inside the Silent Horizon
When| After Valor's Day. Mission starts shortly before "No Sanity Clause" and runs simultaneously in game time
Warnings/Notes| Potential warnings for EVERYTHING. This is a horror plot that may tread a lot of ground. Please keep in mind that you can stumble on disturbing stuff in almost any thread. We advise all players to put warnings in the subjects of threads when they lean towards cut-worthy stuff.
The mission was simple. The team had to board the derelict Silent Horizon, a ship with an experimental stardrive, after it finally reappeared in UP space, many hours after it was supposed to reappear, during its first field test. No life signs were aboard, but the presence of several Roboticans on the crew -- who were undetectable by bioscan -- meant that the ship had to be boarded to make sure the Robotican crewmen were gone, too.
The United Planets government, concerned about the loss of the crew members, asked the Legion to step in, in case the threat on board was of a metapowered nature. Due to the massive danger implied by an entire starship crew going missing, the response team sent on the mission was relatively large, more than enough to handle any hostiles. None of this "we'll just send one tiny team to go alone into a giant starship against an unknown threat" business. No, if there was a hostile force on the ship, the plan was "let's drop 25+ Legionnaires on its head." Safety in numbers.
It was a good idea. In theory. In most cases, it would've given them the edge that would've let them face something very nasty without succumbing to it themselves. But in practice, it just meant that it was a much larger team that suddenly went missing after watching the last video log of the previous crew on the command deck.
Screams poured out of the screen the moment it started to play -- automatically -- when they entered the command deck. Onscreen, they saw the original crew murdering each other, tearing each other apart in a blood-soaked rampage.
"Wait, stop! What's wrong with everyone? Why are you --?" cried out one of the Robotican crew members, clearly immune from whatever was causing the madness, but his cries went unheeded as one of his Coluan crew-mates bashed his head clean off with a chair.
After the video played, the darkness swept in, wrapping around the whole team of Legionnaires, making them feel frozen all the way down to their bones and stealing consciousness away from them. When they woke again, they all found themselves separated, waking up in a realm of nightmares.
The halls breathe here -- at least in the places that have walls. They flex in and out, like the passageways inside the lungs. Sometimes the walls give way to open nightmare-scapes, remote and foggy, or bright and alien and exposed. The landscape bends and shifts around them, reacting to their thoughts and fears. And every so often, far off, there is the pitter-pat of something strange moving through this place. Like the sound of many feet -- or hands -- slapping against the ground or flesh-walls.
At some point, there is always a voice that each of them hears, tinny and robotic and distant, warning them of a being called the Faceless, that rules this realm. They're told not to feed from his blood, that if they do they'll be made a part of this place. If they accept his offer, and change forms, they'll eventually bleed to death, and if the Faceless isn't stopped before they die, those that die in their mutated forms will belong to him forever.
It's not the only voice they'll hear, though. This is a land filled with whispers. And screams. And the sounds of begging sometimes, too.
And for some of the Legionnaires, the In-Between speaks to them, touches something deep and dark inside them -- and it's calling them home.
no subject
"I don't know about you, but I'm not planning on going down in a blaze of glory." She's survived this far: outlasted practically everyone she knows— everyone that counts. Buckling now? It'd just be sad.
"And I wouldn't count on anyone else being around to help anyway."
Ahead the walkway narrows into claustrophobic territory, made tighter by tangled section of maintenance pipes that've long since rotted over. Sombra doesn't slow down.
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It's a squeeze for South, and after whacking her helmet on the pipes and trying to duck her way through, she gives up and transforms into a Golden Retriever. She sneezes immediately, because heightened smell and strong oders, but lopes through the hall and pulls ahead of Sombra.
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Forgets entirely when a dog of all things darts out in front of her.
"What the hell— "
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Then she waits expectantly to see if the other woman can figure it out or if she's going to have to transform back and tell her outright.
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"Are you—" Start, stop - start again. "Please tell me you can somehow transform and that I'm not going crazy. Or that we didn't get separated and that I'm talking to some weird, hallucination of a dog."
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"YES, duh, like who else was it going to be? Everyone's got superpowers here I didn't think it would be that much of a brain game for you to figure it out!" She turns forward and starts to press on, still muttering in frustration.
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And then punctuated with a low, muttered dose of angry spanish to match South's own as she follows along, seething.
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Well, she'd wanted to feel vindicated, but not like this: in a tense panic, Sombra darts forward towards where her companion had been (before getting charged directly) hand snapping towards the gun at her hip before she's drawn and leveled it. If she were a quicker shot— a sharper one, maybe— she could immediately cover South.
Instead it takes her a second to make sure she wouldn't be hitting South in the process before she opens fire, a few heated tugs of the trigger.
no subject
It goes limp on top of her as Sombra fires on it, and the whispers edge into silence again, but South's shaken with the implications. She shoves it off and stands, ripping her helmet off in order to rake a hand through her hair and glare at Sombra.
"Happy?"
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"Yes!" Sombra snaps back, gesturing sharply towards the monstrous corpse laid out between them. "Obviously."
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The monster had planted the seeds in her head; now, her natural paranoia takes over. She rams her helmet back into place. "Why don't you lead for a stretch?"
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Asking Sombra to take point is asking her to goad an attack from the nightmare itself, and right now? She doesn't trust the woman that'd be at her back to even consider keeping her alive. Punctuated by the fact that her SMG doesn't immediately go back in its holster, finger still hovering defensively near the trigger.
"I'm not the one that's wearing armor!"
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But also good instincts, Sombra; no one should trust South. She does notice Sombra hasn't holstered her gun yet, though, and South scoffs. "Or what, are you going to shoot me yourself?"
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It's happened too many times before, now: a little push— a slight nudge— and the scale tips over entirely, taking the person she'd been standing beside and turning them inside out. Wrong. Angry. She doesn't know South well enough to know how much of this is her, and how much is this the Faceless trying to find a foothold.
She hopes it's nothing more than paranoia. Fear. That they're both rattled and it'll pass after a few unreasonable comments.
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"Yeah we'll who's to say I'm the only brain being screwed with, vata?"
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"Because I didn't try to kill you, I saved your life!" Which, to be fair, was owed already when you consider the details of their first meeting.
—but that's not a logical point Sombra intends to bring up right about now.
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An agreement made and struck, enough that Sombra finally moves to holster her gun as they press forward. She is, however, not noble enough to keep from one final, petty jab: shifting invisible with a flick of her wrist.
Sorry, South.
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"Fine! I didn't want to walk withyou anyway!" On the contrary, though, her angry outburst fizzles out with a hint of fear. She's alone again (presumably), and that's what she fears most. She brings her stun gun back around, looking into the shadows as she heads further down, swearing she can hear the whispers return again.
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There's a digital flicker before Sombra comes striding back into view at her side, expression tense and drawn thin. Straining the cracks in their current truce won't do either of them any favors; she makes the better decision not out of altruism, but necessity.
"Oh calm down, I'm right here beside you, manita. You're no use to anyone dead."
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That's what it all meant; that's what everyone insinuated, wasn't it? The ranking board and the whispers from North-monster and the Director's voice creeping in on her through the darkness. She wasn't worth anything on her own. But, somehow, here was Sombra.
Aside from the brief hesitation, though, she's not eager to broadcast her insecurities. "Dead? Hardly. I'm sure I'd make it out alright."
no subject