The Legion [Mods] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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
"Cortana?"
Sombra blinks, mulls it over for a moment before figuring that despite the difficulties in navigating transmissions, equipment or just plain space in this nightmare, Cortana can probably jump to anyone that's close enough on a whim. Plus, she was resting for a while...
"Sounds like she trusts you, then." Which means that after a beat, Sombra adds her own introduction, belated and unecessarily: "Azúcar."
no subject
Comforting to know that others could potentially contact her and they could plan through it, but a litter sobering to think of how many recipients there should be that are unavailable. Connie nods, a small tired smile on her lips before she puts her helmet back on. She'll be better able to keep an eye out for any incoming heat signatures or hostiles through it.
"It's good to meet you. I haven't run into many others who haven't been affected but I'm just about done with this whole thing."
no subject
Longer than they've spent on this ship in any physical aspect, and it's a dose of vitriol that sinks right down into her voice as she says it - she has to dull it just a minute later. Provoking this place when she's still in need of a solid regroup might be too much of a misstep.
"We should keep moving. They'll be back." It comes with a gentle, familiar tap on the arm as Sombra slips past, gesturing for Connie to follow her as she charts a set path through the halls, footsteps steady.
"Anything following you yet?"
no subject
"They always seem to find us sooner or later."
With a nod, Connie turns to follow. After a moment's thought, two other projected images of Connie's suit appear behind them both. The projections wouldn't have any real weight or punch to them, but they would act as a good notification if anything tried to sneak up behind them.
"...Shadows of people I knew. They wear armour like mine but I've been lucky with giving them the slip."
no subject
Well, they'll tally the brownie points if they both survive this.
"From what I've seen? This place tries to pull from your memories. Anything that might screw you up without having to put in any real effort."
Cheap shots, all of them.
Which should say something about what's hunting her, too, but there's no commentary on that particular aspect of it from Sombra.
no subject
Connie's half tempted to punch the next fleshy bit on the wall they come across but- that might be tempting fate a little too much. She settles for a glare from inside her helmet instead.
"They aren't particularly quiet at least, and they'll focus on me more than you if they do show up."
Gotta get back what she stole, and the Director has ever so many tests to run.
no subject
no subject
Connie tips her head in point of the scoff. Being melodramatic wouldn't help their circumstances and god knows she wasn't about to have a heart to heart with anybody. So she shrugs, lifting a hand in a noncommittal gesture as the other rests on the hilt of her knife in case those fleshy tendrils on the wall ever got too close.
"Have you run into many people yet?"
no subject
Sombra slips past another row of tendrils, ignoring the scattered glow of sunlight where it's pooling up ahead in the distance, seeping in through cracks in rusted paneling. "Mm. A lot of them, actually."
How that ended? Easy to guess: she's alone, bloodied and sneaking in half hour rests when the exhaustion gets to be too much, the ports and cybernetic implants along her spine and the side of her head burned out to the point of utter disrepair. "We're running out of warm bodies, mija."
no subject
"So long as I can move I'm up for the fight."
Connie glances up as a shadow breaks the hazy light filtering in through the hallway- and her mouth goes dry. Three suits of armour, blue with accented arm bands, have been incorporated into the ceiling. The three figures' arms are stretched out towards the light as if reaching for some manner of warmth but they're frozen in place, their visors cracked and dripping something dark and cold.
"Getting reeeally tired of all the smoke and mirrors bullshit."
no subject
To all of this.
Like catching rain in the palm of her hand, Sombra reaches up to let a few frigid droplets pool against her glove. The longer they spend wandering around in a place like this, the less unsettling it becomes— and there's a danger in that, she knows it. But then again, what other choice do they have? Any time they waste jumping at shadows makes them less capable of holding their own against whatever's keeping them here.
"But until that pendejo decides to show his face, it is what it is."
no subject
Connie shakes her head, tearing her gaze away from the Triplets frozen in the ceiling and keeps moving forward. Glancing back over her shoulder to check on her remaining projection she glares at the still creeping tendrils that had been following them since they entered this 'greenhouse of horror' area. Great. Because after running into York, obviously what she needs is more personal space invading tentacles. She tips her head towards the creepy crawlies and pulls her knife out to keep at the ready.
"Please tell me the missions aren't usually like this."
no subject
With a downward glance she wipes away the sludge across her suit, breathing out a tired little sound. "I've only been on one other mission before this— it went fine, but from what I heard? The one that came before it went bad."
Real bad.
The tendrils (thankfully) don't seem outright aggressive. A nuisance, easily swatted away like bottom-feeders hoping for cast off scraps from larger predators. Maybe if she wasn't so entirely exhausted, Sombra would realize as much outright, instead of keeping her distance like something burned.
"Shame your first mission had to be this one..."
no subject
When the world's going to shit, at least there will always be sarcasm. Connie shakes her head, glancing over to Azucar every now and again.
"It's definitely in my top five bullshit assignments. I much prefer more subtle infiltrate and extract missions myself. Y'know, without the blood and nightmare fuel. Buuut Legionnaires can't be choosers, huh."
no subject
The assignment seemed easy enough: simple publicity, a little work for a worthy cause— they should have been in and out hours and hours ago.
"I'm suddenly wishing I'd opted to stay behind."
no subject
Not the first time a mission's gone bad but it certainly took it to a whole new level of terrible.