Camping: Part II!

[kingtyrantranger]

Jason didn't exactly sell the new world well. Stepping through the Threshold Gate, the Legionnaires find themselves on a landing platform overseeing their new vacation hotspot. The first thing they'll notice is that everything feels slightly heavier. Nothing dramatic, but if they were carrying a hundred pounds of stuff, now they've got twenty more pounds weighing them down. The planet, Futuro's Folly, is as advertised, hollowed out with the entire ecosystem on the inside. Outside, if they'd bothered to look, there was only a barren, crater-pocked surface of a dwarf planet about half the size of Pluto. Inside, however...

While they're standing in the midst of what was surely once a base of some kind, the criminal resort according to Jason, it doesn't stretch out very far. Just about three quarters of a mile out, the 'settled' area ends, taken over by a vibrant jungle of dense violet and orange foliage, with gigantic red and blue mushrooms filling just as much area as the trees. More, in some cases, as some of them seem to be miles high off in the distance, just when the earth seems to start curving in on itself. An orange sphere that seems to be the size of a silver dollar hangs in space above their heads, with something rotating in the core of it. If anyone were to watch it, the orb flickers rapidly as rings blur around the sphere itself. After about 8 in the evening, the fields that the rings generated would turn slightly opaque, bringing darkness to the entire planet at once.

The former crime resort itself isn't exactly in the best of shape. By 31st century standards, the technology is centuries out of date and finding people who are capable of repairing it without ruining the 'historical significance' is increasingly difficult. There are six main buildings other than the small spaceport they're standing in:

• The main building. The top three floors were once dedicated to administration, communications, and security. The bottom two floors are dedicated recreational areas, with infonet hookups (reception's not a problem when you can turn your entire planet into a signal amplifier), a variety of holographic games, and a bar/lounge area with some futuristic gambling machines tucked into a corner. Jason has turned on the parental controls, however.



• Behind the main building is the storage center. There's a vast array of vehicles, furniture, and machinery that can be asked for, and it's all stored underground. Simply type in a command and the robots underground will shove the requested item into the gravity tubes, shooting them up to the customer's level.



• The food court has the option to make your own food as well as an outdated and slightly buggy robo-chef that can make a variety of meals. Meat is on the menu, but if anyone asks for meals that require it, they'll have a long wait. The larder hasn't been stocked in centuries. However, it does have coffee. STRONG coffee. And just about any vegan meal you could ask for. It's open air, but can be covered with a dome at the push of a button. The dome has controllable transparency and can be programmed to display any number of things as a ceiling.



• Standing roughly three hundred yards apart are two convertible athletic fields, each about a half-mile in distance. In the old days, they'd hold races or gladiatorial bouts in them. They'll form just about any field needed, however, from obstacle courses and splatterball to golf to the now-illegal slaughterball rings or laser tag arenas. However, most of the gear needed to play is in the storage center.



• Finally, there's a single public bath house. Rather than the sonic showers of Legion World, these use real water. The bath house holds rooms for spas, saunas, massages, public bathing, and showers. Jason has assured everyone, however, that there are private bathing arrangements. He neglects to mention the cameras that subtly fill the rooms, though they are now sporting brand new Legion of Super-Hero stickers over the lenses to keep everyone's privacy intact.



• About a quarter a mile off in the distance, there's about fifty luxhabs. Small cabins built for two people at most, with private bath rooms, small kitchenettes with freshly stocked food, personal computers, and a communications system to contact other luxhabs or make orders from the main house and kitchen. Food can be delivered by small drones if it's called for. The beds are made of a oxygenated memory gel, capable of taking nearly any consistency and shape requested, from a pudding to rows of gel-blades. Climate controls, down to programming the inhabitant's favored atmosphere or filling the luxhab with water, are in full effect. The outsides are programmable ferroliquids, so the guest can customize their vacation home's exterior, even going as far as to add porches.

When the Legionnaires approach the border, heading to the wilderness, there's a small, almost decorative-looking wall. Even those with normal hearing will pick up on a ringing tone as they get closer to it, like a bad case of tinnitus. Walking through the gates is almost like walking through an actual barrier, but once they've done that, the noise fades the further they get from it. The sonic barrier covers the resort in a dome, meaning that they'd run into the same thing if they flew straight up.

Immediately outside the wall, the jungle starts abruptly. And, compared to the relative silence of the resort, the noise of life is practically deafening. Bugs clicking, birds calling, animals screaming at one another, it all slowly fades in the deeper they get. There are trails through the jungle, but they're slowly becoming overgrown as the resort's popularity slowly fades.

As they go deeper, it's not hard to find the first actual animals. Totally unused to humanoid life, they show more curiosity than fear. Small, chicken-sized dinosaurs roam in packs, sloth-like creatures hang from the ceilings, and there are trees that have been knocked over, and recently, in some huge brawl between titans. Every now and then, a small batch of overgrown buildings can be found, mechanical parts pushed out of them by growing vines, or torn out by wild animals. Slow, crackling noises that sound like drawn out thunder echo in the distance as something snaps trees, some of them several dozen feet in diameter, like twigs in the pursuit of prey.

The only thing that Jason's marked on the maps, beyond the default markers that the resort gives out, is a lake about five miles outside of the resort. Set in a clearing, it's over a mile long and several hundred feet deep, with a cave system connected to it underneath. The data regarding the caves is corrupt, the maps refuse to include them. A river feeds into the lake by a waterfall, and a number of small creeks seem to spring up near it. It's not uninhabited, there are several fish in there. And, possibly, something living in the caverns underneath. It's rare, but someone might see animals drinking from time to time, from the small dinosaur packs to titanic mammoths... with weapon mounts that alarmingly track anything that move too close, too fast.

There's a lot to work with, and Jason's rented the place for several days. Hopefully, everyone will find what they need to relax and recover from their recent traumatic events. Or just socialize and meet new people.

[[Okay, so there's some generic activity headers up right now. Feel free to pick one up and run with activities running in any of those areas. For those of you who wanted action, I'll have a separate top-level for that. However, I won't be running any of that chaos, so feel free to take it in the direction you'd like.

If you want to do anything, anything at all, and it doesn't fit into one of my toplevels, feel free to make a new thread entirely! Go wild with it, y'know?]]

Comments

Food Court Hangouts

[kingtyrantranger]

[goddamngrenades]

Asking for a burger, apparently, means lifetime in food court purgatory. But York is determined to have one before the day's out and as long as he's got this pretty damn good coffee and somewhere to sit and flick through puzzles with Delta? He's fine. It almost feels familiar, settled at a random, nondescript table, D pinging through possible solutions in the back of his head, coffee at his elbow, fingers dug deep into a holographic mimicry of an encrypted lock.

If not for the foliage and the giant glowing not sun, the warmth that doesn't come from recirculated air on a ship? He'd feel right at home like he's back in the MOI.

Up till he can't fidget anymore and he rolls back over to the robocook (weird) and asks for an ETA on the burger. "Please, man, can you at least get me fries while I wait?"

Failure brings scorn and pouting not befitting a space marine but, hey. Who cares? he stretches back out on his bench, puzzle in hand, flicking through holographic puzzles, hand reaching up now and then for his coffee. Or, uh, your drink.

His bad, bro.

[leverageintceo]

Well, it's not York's fault that Parker moves silently at all times, and actually has to make an effort to trigger most motion sensors back home. Enjoy the sweetest, most chocolate-y mocha you've probably ever put in your mouth, York, and the nonplussed stare of the blond lady dressed in all black.

Parker leans forward and steals his coffee, taking a sip under her unblinking stare. Fair is fair, after all.

[goddamngrenades]

"This isn't my coffee." His skills of observation are unparalleled, honestly. Not that he minds the cocoa at all, hell he even takes another sip before rolling upright to blink at the victim of his beverage theft.

Silent (though he'd been pretty deep in his own head, even D hadn't registered her so woah), skilled, sweet tooth- cute. Oh fuck. He pastes on his most winning grin, a little tight and crooked on the left due to the scarring on his cheek, and offers her back her mug. "Uh- sorry about that. Didn't know I had company."

[leverageintceo]

"It happens," Parker says, taking her mug before placing his back down on the table. "I'm really good what I do, and that means that sometimes people don't notice me even when I'm not making an effort." She cocks her head to the side. "Your scar is cool."

She's not entirely sure if that's a socially appropriate thing to say, but it is a pretty cool scar. And it looks old enough that he might not be too traumatized to tell her about it.

[goddamngrenades]

"Hobbyist, professional, or military?" Stealth like that comes from a background of some kind and, well. Color him curious. Back to the coffee to wake himself up a little bit he snorts softly at the remark on the scar.

He's had time, now, to get used to it, and while it still bugs him a little? Chicks dig scars. "Frag grenades are a bitch."

So are overly competitive teammates.

After a sip he offers his hand. "I'm York. And you are...?"

[leverageintceo]

"Professional," Parker says. "But we've worked with the military once or twice." She frowns thoughtfully, squinting off into middle distance. "Sort of. Unofficially. Depending on whether or not you count the time we stole the Department of Defense."

She nods at his statement. "I would imagine they are, yes. But you have a cool scar instead of being dead, so it beats the alternative. And chicks dig scars. Guys might also dig scars, but I have less data on that."

Handshakes are something she's well-versed in at this point in her life. Hers is firm, professional, and fairly brief. "Parker. Or Payback. Hi."

[goddamngrenades]

"The whole department?" Damn. His brows go up appreciatively as he whistles long and low. "That shit's not easy."

Everything he's pulled he never really tried digging into UNSC systems because A) don't bite the hand that feeds you and B) when he was officially AWOL it was best to not attract attention, but damn. "Chicks and guys dig scars for different reasons. I mean there's the same 'ooh you're a badass' kinda vibe depending with hints of 'oh no he's vulnerable' and a dash of 'broken bird let me fix' depending on who's look'n at you."

His own hand is calloused, the shake equally firm. "Nice to meet you Parker. I guess my other name's Locksmith? Felt appropriate."

[rushing_by]

"Mind if I sit here?"

The question was coming from a wiry young man who was carrying not one, not two, but three boxes of pizza.

[goddamngrenades]

"Go right ahea-" He pops up at ta terribly familiar smell. "Holy shit that's pizza."

Holy shit that smells so damn good. "How'd you get them to give you that so fast?"

[rushing_by]

"...I asked for it, and the robot made it and gave it to me?"

Barry hadn't also gone and assumed that meat being on the menu didn't mean meat was actually on the menu. The robot looked like nobody had bothered to update it's setting in years.

"Want some? I'm gonna eat most of it, but I don't mind if you have a few slices."

[goddamngrenades]

"Note to self: Don't ask for meat." But. Burgers. He props his elbows on the table and flicks his eye back over to the distinct lack of results before nodding. "Thanks, man, It's been like an hour since I ordered and I still got nothing. Not even fries."

Maybe he'll learn better.

[rushing_by]

"Hope you like olives and jalapeños, then" Barry said, flipping open the top box.

"I'm Barry, by the way. I also go by The Flash, if that means anything to you."

[goddamngrenades]

Beggars can't be choosers but that combo? Is not near as bad as everyone in the Project would've made it sound. "You're a man of good taste."

He says in all due seriousness, snagging a slice for himself. "York, Locksmith. I, uh. Yeah that's not familiar, sorry buddy."

[whyarewehere]

Grif thought there was bacon. Like... maybe there was some kind of vegan space future loophole here in astroid campground land? It had been totally plausible! But no, he spent two hours in here at breakfast figuring it out the hard way and has been moping ever since.

Lunch is good, but there is a distinct lack of dead animals involved. Disappointment.

He hadn't paid York any attention until he heard him go up to ask about his food, but now?

"Dude, how long have you been waiting?" he asks conversationally.

[goddamngrenades]

"Three hours." For a burger. At least he got some fries in the mean time but- "I have found the one sucky thing about this space future and it's the lack of meat. All I want is a goddamn burger."

Just. Grilled beef or beef like substances. Is that too much to ask? It is, probably.

[whyarewehere]

Grif exhales through his teeth, thinking. How do you break this to a person gently?

"They don't actually have any hamburger. Or bacon. Or, you know. Anything good."

Perfect.

[goddamngrenades]

"...You know I wake up with these new powers and go 'what's to stop me from becoming a villain" Besides, well. Delta. "I have found my motivation to go bad. You wanna be my sidekick? We'll hold planets hostage till we get bacon."

He rests his elbows on the table, smirk wide and wry- obviously bullshitting.

[whyarewehere]

Grif's eyes brighten with mischief.

"Oh yeah dude don't get me wrong, I've thought about it. It's just there's only one of me and a lot of tofu dog bean burger bullshit out there."

He sticks out one hand. "I'm Grif. Or Doubletime if you gotta be federal issue about it. Don't be that guy, dude." He makes a little face, indicating his general opinion on formal callsign nonsense.

[prettycoolguy]

Who has two thumbs and always stakes out an empty table with all the exits in his line of sight? It's this guy. It's not that the Chief's antisocial, he just doesn't like to intrude in spaces he doesn't belong. Like casual conversation. Yeah.

This is a bit of a weird vacation for the Chief, partly because he doesn't do vacation and partly because the mission-assessment part of his brain expects something to go wrong. They're inside a heavily modified world full of bizarre life with an artificial sun. The whole thing screams Forerunner bullshit, even though he knows this universe just doesn't have that. He's not afraid, exactly, he's just prepared.

...Which is making it hard for him to deal with mission objective number one: relax. Right. Doing that. Forcibly. It's fine.

At least he didn't order meat, he's been casually keeping an eye on the unfolding waiting drama over in that direction. He's content with well-prepared vegan and strong coffee as he checks the news on the comm.

If anyone drifts this way looking for an open seat, especially as things fill up, he nods a little. He's not exactly brooding in the fortress of solitude over here.

[mylawn]

Other people who are bad at vacations: this guy.

Even in his former life, 76 was somewhat notorious for being kind of a workaholic, so an inability to relax is kind of ingrained into the very fiber of his being. The fact that he won't take off his full tactical gear might have something to do with it.

From his brief conversation with Chief, he thinks the guy has an okay head on his shoulders. It probably couldn't hurt 76 to make a few allies, even if holding an actual conversation is probably going to be awkward. 76 doesn't have any food, but he slides into the seat opposite Chief anyway, all business.

"Don't look too excited."

[prettycoolguy]

The Chief raises one eyebrow in response, an eloquent gesture by Spartan standards. 76 isn't here to eat and he doesn't strike the Chief as a social butterfly. That means he has a reason to be sliding in across from him.

What reason is beyond the Chief, though.

He sets down the comm. 76 has the floor.

[mylawn]

The lack of debriefing about Murderworld is sort of what’s getting to him—the rescue was all well and good, but that doesn’t change the fact that they were all thrown into a death arena in the first place. 76 is paranoid and thinks that doesn’t bode well, so he’s going to open the conversation with that, mostly to see if Chief shares his concerns.

It’s not like he isn’t going to judge Chief by what he thinks about all this, except he totally is.

“That death arena. Things like that happen a lot?”

[prettycoolguy]

"Not usually," the Chief replies. "But this is our second ambush, and it came right after the first."

He's not an especially paranoid person. He's not losing sleep, but it is a fact and it is bothering him. He's flat and upfront with it.

"I'm going to be watching our next mission very carefully."

[mylawn]

"Your second."

76 has done some backreading, gone over what dossiers and records he could. It doesn't exactly give him much faith in the Legion--then again, he'd been dragged into this with more than a little skepticism.

"Twice is already too much for the kind of operation they're supposed to be running."