legionmissions | Camping: Part II!

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Camping: Part II!

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 By 31st century standards, the technology is centuries out of date and finding people who are capable of repairing it without ruining the 'historical significance' is increasingly difficult.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?]]

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Fighting is good and all, and he knows what he's capable of, what he could do— but he's also at quite the disadvantage here too. If he's gonna get aggressive, he'd prefer to do that when the other party is least expecting it. Granted, he's pretty sure 76 is always expecting it, which makes it a little harder to surprise him.

The earlier mirth is gone, and he remains deathly silent as he continues to stare at him through the mask. That's actually a tough one. Where to start.

"Would you like an apology?"

As innocuous as the question sounds, there's that deep-seated ire, always present.

"If you think I'll just tell you what I've been 'up to', why I do what I do... you'll be sorely disappointed."

"I want an explanation."

But he knows it won't be that simple, nor will it be easy. Already, Reyes is incredulous, and 76 knows he'll be lucky to get any kind of answer at all. Given the opportunity, however, he has to ask, even if he won't get what he wants without a fight.

All he can do is hope it won't be a physical one.

"Talon, Reyes."

Finally, a little personality shines through as Reaper shrugs in an exaggeratedly slow fashion. Of course Jack wants an explanation. Whether or not Reaper thinks he deserves a proper one is a whole 'nother argument.

"They're the next best thing," he starts, pausing only to fold his arms across his chest defensively like he always did when Jack tried to make him explain himself. 'To Blackwatch' goes without saying.

"Not too big, not too small. Useful."

Infuriatingly short, and vague, and not even close to the real picture... but it's the gist of it. It's not as if anything he's said was necessarily untrue.

"Is that all?"

No, that's not exactly what he wants to know, and he's quick to butt in and make that clear. Reaper working with Talon as a means to his own ends is fairly obvious, but the fact is that the organization has been an enemy of Overwatch for a very long time. 76 needs to know when the overlap started.

"How long? How much of Talon is Blackwatch?"

How long was this going on right under his nose?

"Before Ana, or after?"

Because if Gabriel had something to do with Gérard, with Amélie, with Ana's attemptd assassination, well. There's going to be hell to pay.

Reaper pauses. He pauses for such a long time it almost feels like he's just shut down, refusing to answer. Which would honestly just put him in hotter water.

"Joined when I was able," he replies, voice strangely low and conversational.

"Not enough, if you ask me."

It's not like Talon went around recruiting old Blackwatch recruits specifically, but as long as they were available, why not? A part of Reaper is almost smug about how much had gone by without Jack realizing.

He doesn't expand on anything else. Not because he doesn't have an answer per se, but he's already feeling the accusatory tone needling at him. That only stokes the flames further, dredging up those old emotions and reprimanding himself for not taking him out while they were in the Industrial zone. There'd be hell to pay from the Legion, but maybe it would've been worth it.

"No sense in bringing up what's past, Jack. Unfortunately, we're all still alive."

Of course, he knows there's totally sense in bringing up what's past for most. He knows it's important to Jack, which is precisely why he wants to dismiss it as something completely irrelevant.

When were you able is the follow-up question, but 76 is suddenly too angry to ask it. The sheer casualness with which he provides his answers is infuriating, like none of this matters at all to him. Like they're standing here discussing the weather.

"Everything we built, Reyes."

It doesn't matter that Ana isn't really dead--what matters is that Talon took her out in the first place. He understands now that her attempted assassination so close to the implosion of Swiss HQ was a setup. Their enemies needed her out of the way before they could try for him.

He's seething. He knows, on some level, that it's pointless to pull this card because there's nothing left of Gabriel Reyes to appeal to. It's not going to stop him from trying, a reflex, like a doctor hitting his knee in a routine exam.

"None of it meant anything to you."

If he were to be more forthright with his replies, he would've said 'when I was done being dead' or something along those lines. That would place his alliance with Talon after Ana's attempted assassination (Though were they really aiming for Ana? Or was she simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?) But that would just put Jack at ease. Can't have that, now can we?

He hates that this conversation is happening, and he let it happen. Hell, he wanted to see how it would pan out, even if he'd replayed what possible outcomes it would've had in the past. Back when the wounds were fresher— angrier. He knew it wouldn't be good, but after a long while, revisiting the idea suddenly seemed like a novel thing. Guess he wasn't too far off the mark, since there's very little killing going on right now.

"Maybe..."

It feels like eons ago, when he used to have that sliver of idealism, lining the harshness of reality in specks of silver. Maybe what they were building was a good thing, the intentions were there, but it turns out Overwatch was just another cog in the machine. Used until it wore out, and forcibly removed from the picture. Of course, he'd admit that he had a helping hand in that, even if destroying Overwatch wasn't his intention.

To him, it was a tool. Being Blackwatch was probably one of the best things to happen to him, employing his own tactics of how he thought the world should be protected. Being given the power to do that, even without the title of Strike Commander, was more or less a blessing. At first, he'd thought being passed over for Strike Commander was a huge missed opportunity, but as time passed? It didn't seem too practical.

"...Maybe not. Did you think we fought because I just didn't give a shit?"

His tone suddenly grows snide at the end.

None of this is an acceptable answer, and with each subsequent word out of Reaper’s mouth, it becomes more and more difficult not to incite violence. 76 tries to tell himself that he’s better than this—but is he, really? Aren’t they just two sides of the same coin? He knows, on some level, that all of this runs deeper than him and Gabriel, that Overwatch was built to fail. That the UN and their enemies had capitalized on the real rift between them

But Reaper is here, and available, and he’s the easiest person to blame, given what happened. Jack is so burned up with rage inside that he has nothing to do with it but force it out.

“Cut the bullshit.”

He’s sick of dancing around the issue, of flippant answers when so much was at stake and continues to be at stake.

“I want to know why.”

If it was really about the promotion, why serve under him for two full decades? Why subject himself to any of that at all?

The more riled up 76 gets, the more tempting it is to keep poking and prodding at him, really get under his skin. Downside to it is that whenever Jack gets mad, he can feel his own anger rising up to the surface. It's a giddy sort of feeling, one that he swears he never feels anywhere else. It's almost like when he'd died, all his emotions were preserved for these moments only. How annoying.

He starts to laugh. Slow like thunder clouds rolling in, building up to a crackling sound, almost a full-blown villain laugh. Stopping himself in time, he gestures vaguely towards 76.

"Did you really think it would be that easy? On the contrary, Jack, I'm not stupid. If and when this detour mission of supposedly saving the goddamn universe pans out, where do you think that'll put us?"

Right back where they left off, doing some major damage control for the time lost since their service with the Legion. Reaper's body language starts to unfurl, looking to become more aggressive as he takes a step towards him.

"You'll know why, soon enough. You'll know everything if you can survive it."

Of course he hadn't thought it would be that easy. None of this ever is, and 76 isn't sure what he was hoping for, exactly. Now he's angry and they're both getting riled up, and he's going to have to keep going without the answers he wants.

Unless he can beat them out of Reyes, and that laugh almost makes him want to.

He tries to breathe, calm down, remind himself that throwing the first punch is just what Reaper wants. 76 has ammunition of his own--he just has to think for a second and use it.

When he speaks, it's calmly, coolly, trying to mirror Reaper's own nonchalance.

"Well, you haven't been able to kill me yet." And not for lack of trying. "I'd say I'm doing pretty well."

It's like watching a cat's tail bristle when he snarls and the tendrils of smoke roll off of his shoulders. All it takes a blink, and with an angry rush of wind, he's nose to nose with 76. The protruding nose of his mask clacks against the highest point of 76's mask, claws already snarled into the leather of the ridiculously technicolor jacket. A wonder he managed to not throw his fist into Jack's face. Such restraint.

There's a moment of loud silence, Reaper just breathing out a growl as he contemplates his next move. No, he has to calm down. He has to tamp down that urge to start a vicious brawl again.

"Enjoy your little Legionnaire perks while you can," he sneers finally, claws still gripping at the jacket. "Don't think I'll make things easy for you while we're here."

Jack almost flinches when Reaper ghosts right up to his face, putting them mask to mask. Claws twist in the leather of his jacket and his instinct is to jerk away--which he does, until he realizes that he's not scared.

Good, he thinks, watching the crack in Reaper's shield. Anything he can do to get under his skin, when he's so powerless otherwise. Even if the Legion didn't have rules about killing (not that he cares about getting thrown out or imprisoned if it means Gabriel is dead), he doesn't think Reaper can die conventionally. The situation is impossible for both of them. Might as well remind him of that.

"Do your worst. I'll make your life hell."

He already has, in many ways.

Giving 76 what he wants is not part of the plan. He takes a moment to hold his tongue, catch his breath, and put himself back on that slightly higher level he always strives for whenever he's faced against him.

Instead of aggressively shoving him away or exacerbating the situation any, he simply sways 76 back and forth in his grip before carelessly letting go. He doesn't back off right away, still invading his space for as long as he can manage before the urge to stir some shit arises again.

"Old news, Jack. You always do."

"It ain't gonna stop."

He stumbles a little when he's released, but 76 recovers quickly, straightening up and making it clear that he refuses to be intimidated. Gabriel of all people should know how stubborn he can be--almost pathologically so.

"Not until I have the answers I want."

Sort of a thinly-veiled thread, but a threat all the same.

As much as he love to see Jack of all people getting intimidated by him, the guy's never been like that. Never with him. Never around him. Unflappably and infuriatingly so, but it's expected. He knows it only drives his motivation stronger. Whether that motivation is for killing him or just getting under his skin, it doesn't matter. Either one is a win, really. 76 just sets the bar really high.

He manages to laugh again, shaking his head like this is just some more incorrigible bullshit that they deal with everyday.

"I think I'll enjoy watching you die knowing that you knew nothing until it was too late."

If they were anywhere else but here, 76 might actually consider that a threat--but he's pretty sure Reaper is following the Legion's rules, for now. That doesn't mean he's going to let his guard down, but they're effectively at a stalemate. He's going to call Reaper's bluff.

"If you can kill me."

76 knows he isn't going to get any more answers, not pressing him like this. For now, he'll relent, turning to leave.

It is so tempting to get the last word in, to instigate again as 76's back is turned. A cheap shot would definitely rile him up, for sure. But he knows it won't stop there, and it'll only escalate into full-on violence. Again. It would also be less likely to summon backup or something to subdue them here on weird camping trip planet. The possibilities.

But nah, save that for another day. A more thought-out and planned day. He lets 76 leave with the last word, just stewing silently in his utter annoyance for the situation he's found himself.

Oh, he can kill you, Jack. He'll find a way.

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Camping: Part II!

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