tushanshu_logs | Akranon Mission Log

Entry tags:

Akranon Mission Log

Characters: Bucky Barnes (

trainwrecked), Hellboy (

histruename), Hal Jordan (

animosus), Natasha Romanoff (

chernaya), Saint Walker (

burnseternal), Zelgadis (

gathersnomoss)
Date: Now.
Location: Akranon, the vast desert.
Situation: A small group has been tasked by the emperor with exploring a new land. Is this the place where Malicant originated? Or is it just a false lead?
Warnings/Rating: Possible violence, adult language. Will edit as needed.

Magic will only take one so far. The swift transport from the edge of Asti's shell to the beach in the east takes less than four hours, but to cross the desert...that will take determination.

And water.

At the edge of Akranon, the beach is littered with shells, and the carcasses of dead animals, crawling to the sea to die. Sun-bleached bones are scattered across the endless sands, the only grave markers they get. One walks with caution here, in this place. The emperor was blunt, in his orders regarding this place.

Anything you find, even if it seems inconsequential, bring it to me. We must have more information.

The sun burns overhead, so close and so oppressive. How can anything exist in this place of fire and sand? What can be found in this empty landscape?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It will take cooperation, communication, and sheer stubbornness to cross this desert. It will take at least four IC days to accomplish. Here is where you gather your belongings, and attempt to form a team.

Or will you strike out on your own? The choice is up to you.

To the north and south, large mountains are visible in the distance, at least fifty miles away. Continuing east is the desert. Perhaps there's an oasis to be found.

Edited 2014-06-18 20:55 (UTC)

She's dressed for the desert, as much as someone can be with their resources on the turtle; skin covered in light weight clothing, airy clothing, head covered for shade. Putting it bluntly, Natasha's not going to be fucking around with this desert. She's been in enough of them to know better. She's carrying water, food, and a couple of knives, opting to leave her heavier weapons at home.

Reaching up, she shades her eyes with her hand as she stares out at the horizon, gathering as much intel as she can with what little she's being given.

Natasha glances over her shoulder, waiting for her teammates on this mission to join her.

Bucky steps up beside her, shading his eyes to look ahead, too.

"Last time I was crossing a dessert... The further we got from the turtle, the sicker Steve got. Apparently, everything beyond baseline human stopped working, and that included most of the effects of his serum. I'm glad some of the rules have changed, since then."

He gives her a small smile, then turns to the other companions.

"Anybody got some experience with such places? Mine's not very extensive."

But what he knows, he'll share. Including about the monsters, whether or not they're here, too.

Edited (oops, I'm awake.) 2014-06-19 07:29 (UTC)

This is how Hal prepares. He has his ring and he has his lantern.

That's it.

And he doesn't need anything else. The ring lets him travel in space, a short journey in the desert is nothing in comparison. He wasn't aware that everything apparently stopped working last time so it's lucky for him that was apparently no longer the case.

"Don't need it, I can get us all there in no time."

A green construct jet plane forms around him with him in the cockpit. They'd stand out like a sore thumb on the (glowing) Green Lantern express, but it'd be faster than walking.

Like Hal, Saint Walker is equipped sparingly, more than comfortable traveling with nothing more than the ring upon his finger, though a few necessities are slipped into his pockets underneath his uniform. There are a few things that a traveler should always carry; a knife for cutting vegetation, water in times of drought, and light, portable food for when there is none to be found. He has always traveled as such, and so he intends to continue.

Of course, Hal Jordan - as brash and bold as ever, he sees - has different ideas as to how they will be going from point A to point B.

"The journey itself may be as informative as the destination," he says, though he isn't truly suggesting that they walk the whole way, not when they have other options available to them.

The heat is blistering, the blinding white sun reflecting off the ocean, radiating off the bleached-white sand. But it's not the heat that catches Hellboy off guard, not the dryness of the air that threatens to snatch the moisture right out of his lungs. It's the smell; the overwhelming stink of carcasses smouldering in the sun, buzzing with swarms of insects amidst a bone yard of others passed before them.

It takes him time to clamber through the sand, big as he is and with how it shifts uneasily under his cloven feet, his tail swaying whip-like behind him for balance.

For those who know him, the expression on his almost unreadable face is Not Happy. He's never liked the heat, and getting around in sand has always been a pain in the ass. But they came here with a job to do, and he's determined to do it.

With his trademark duster abandoned in the heat, his red skin looks even redder against the blazing pale backdrop of the desert. A dry bone snaps underfoot as he sidles up to the group, where a massive green jet plane's appeared out of nowhere.

As tempting as just hopping on a plane is at this point, a glowing, green magic plane is another thing.

"Yeah... I don't think so," he rumbles, giving it a long look. "If you guys want to risk it, go ahead. But there's still a chance that thing could fail midair, so I think I'll walk."

Zelgadis considered the construct. He had no experience with airplanes, but he knew magical flight. He also knew desert travel. "Either way, we want to be sure we know where we're going and how far away it is. Magical rides or not, we run out of supplies and things won't be pretty."

He'd brought his cloak and traveling clothing, as well as some supplies. Also parchment, his mapmaking tools and his sword. Maybe he could have left the blade behind, but you never knew when it could come in handy. That and it was a bit more obvious that he was armed than magic was.

"Maybe the faster members of the party should make sure they have their bearings before we set out. Some altitude couldn't hurt for that."

Natasha also eyeballs the green jet, and shakes her head. "The Emporer said get as much info as we can. We can't do that if we fly the entire way there," she says before pausing for a second.

"We don't even know which direction we should head."

Bucky eyed Hellboy, a half... smile? Of sorts, playing on his face.

"So you remember having been here before. Welcome back, I guess?"

Then he crosses his arms. "Recon from the air and then deciding how to proceed sounds like the most sensible approach, however. But if it starts feeling strange over the desert, come back. The no-powers-away-from-the-turtle thing ain't a joke, and you end up stranded somewhere, that'll be bad."

Information was important. Not losing people was important, too.

"You all wanna take stock of who can do what, before we get started? Or find out how far we'll going and then share the info? Other than, clearly, Green Lantern stuff."

What. He knew Kyle. He had some idea about it.

Hal drops the construct and splutters at the insinuation that one of his constructs could possibly fail. This is almost as bad as saying he's a bad pilot. Hellboy is saved from his manly posturing by Bucky bringing up the possibility that their abilities may fail when there was enough distance.

But his pride is still bruised and he's more sullen as he replies. "Walker and I are Lanterns which means we're the best thing you guys have got. We operate in space, one desert on a tiny planet is nothing."

Hellboy barely has time to tip his head at Bucky in acknowledgement before he catches Hal starting to throw a fit. He only gives the guy a deadpan look, half a challenge to go ahead and say what's on his mind, half already done with the situation. The others talk, and that seems to shut him up, but it doesn't last long before he's opening his mouth again.

Jeez, that guy's got an ego, he thinks. Too bad he doesn't have the time or patience to deal with that crap right now. Hal's not the first pilot he's offended, probably won't be the last. And he can't deny the guy's got some impressive power, and sure, he'll be an asset, but he's obviously let that go to his head.

"Riiiight," he says, finally breaking his gaze from Hal. "Looks like we're reaching a consensus. Whoever can scopes out the road ahead, maps out where we need to go. They check back with the people on the ground."

He looks from face to face, gauging their reactions. "Anyone else know how to fly?"

Edited 2014-06-22 19:45 (UTC)

Zelgadis raised a hand. "Magic spells. I'm also hardy enough to take a crash if the magic does give out, and I have supplies."

He didn't know a thing about these 'Lanterns' but a sorcerer from Zelgadis's world could be pretty versatile.

"I can also fly, as Hal Jordan helpfully pointed out," Saint Walker said, mouth curved in an amused, though not unkind, smile. He would contest the idea of the best they've got, but the fact remained that their skills would be of great use to their comrades in arms.

"But that may not be the most practical use of our skills. Hal Jordan and I may use our rings to communicate with each other at great distances. I would suggest that he and his group venture ahead to see what they find, and I will remain with the rest to provide a point of connection between us. Does this sound acceptable?"

"All right," Hellboy agrees with easy confidence. "Then Hal and Zelgadis will fly out ahead. The rest of us head out on foot."

His eyes flick between Hal and the sorcerer. He has his doubts about letting a cocky son of a bitch like Hal risk running into any trouble, but Zelgadis seems like a no-nonsense kind of guy, and he likes that. At least if the magic starts failing out there, Hotshot won't be stranded in the middle of the desert with nothing but his jammies and his decoder ring.

"You find anything, let us know. And if you feel like you're getting weaker, head back before you get yourselves stranded."

It feels like a solid plan, but like most solid plans, it'll probably fall apart pretty quick. So they should get moving before anything comes up.

"Everybody ready?"

Having to follow everyone's pace on foot would have driven Hal crazy in no time so it's a good thing for him he's getting sent ahead as a scout. And luckily for them, he wasn't against partnering up. If there was one thing his time in the Corps had taught him, it was learning to work as a team.

"Don't worry, if there's anything out there we'll take care of it for you." He turns to Zelgadis, "Let's see how magic fares against Oan tech."

Hal glows as he takes to the air.

Natasha's unimpressed as she watches it, turning to the others on the ground as Hal and Zel take to the air.

"So, which way are we headed?"

Because she's not going to stand around baking while she waits for the pair of flyers to return.

"The peaks there would be an easy point to get our bearings, until we have more info?"

Not getting lost, as well as dead, is pretty high on Bucky's list of priorities. And, until the stars come out, that's the best orientation point that they have.

The mountains are just ghosts of giants towering on either side in the distance, a cold blue-gray against the yellow, barren landscape. Their faces are like a towering maw, opening wide into the endless desert, beckoning them in.

Getting that far wouldn't be easy for anyone, and it's not a journey Hellboy's willing to brave for something as simple as a vantage point when they just sent out two guys to do that for them.

"I don't think so," he says, mostly to Bucky. "It would take most of the day and night to get there, and climbing mountains is harder than it looks."

Though he's sure Saint could conjure up something that could get them up there in a second. But that's not the point of staying on the ground.

For now, he'll just start walking. Straight ahead's as good a direction as any, and standing still isn't gonna get them anywhere. They can walk while they talk things out.

"Let the guys in the air cover the bearings, kid. We'll tackle the mountains if they find something up there."

And as far as communication goes, he'll leave that one up to Saint.

Zelgadis took to the air when he saw Hal do so, maintaining a close enough distance to be in shouting range. Maybe he should have asked if they could have made the radios small enough for him to carry a transmitter, but he didn't know if that was even possible.

His own spell was only slightly visible as a bubble of air around him, and a change in the wind direction and speed, surprisingly subtle for his sort of magic.

"See anything yet?" he called to Hal.

Hal doesn't yell, his ring ensures that his voice carries well enough to not need to over the rushing wind.

"Sand sand and more sand. Maybe we need to kick it up a notch." He doesn't know how Zelgadis would be able to keep up so he's pacing himself.

"I'll head off as fast as I can," Zelgadis said. "If all else fails, I don't mind catching a lift." He could cast a spell quick enough to slow his fall, and he has flown dragonback before.

"Then let's test your limits."

Hal cockily salutes before shooting off, breaking the sound barrier. They'll probably have to double back more than a few times to make sure they didn't miss anything, but they'd still be far faster than the people on the ground. He also has his ring set up to notify him if something pops up.

If he doesn't see him soon, he's heading back to give him a construct he can ride on instead.

Zel's going to need that construct; he's fast compared to a bird, but not anywhere near sonic speed.

Hal speeds a head for a few seconds before he loops back.

"So I take it you might need a little help?"

"Yeah, a bit," Zelgadis said.

Hal grins and lies back in the air. A green construct couch appears beside him.

"All aboard the Green Lantern express!"

Would of been more appropriate if he'd gone with a train instead.

"That thing will hold me up?" Zelgadis asked. But he was settling in. "What keeps me from flying forward when you stop?"

"This thing runs on willpower. It won't because I'll will it not to. Anyway, I'm the best damn pilot you'll ever meet, but you can have seatbelts if you're scared."

Hal clearly thinks seatbelts are unnecessary and are for nerds only, but seatbelts do show up.

"Cautious," Zelgadis corrected. "Also, being slammed against solid rock hurts. I know that from experience."

"Let us move forward," Saint Walker says, falling in line with Hellboy as they begin their lengthy trek across the desert. "We will find on the ground what the others cannot in the air."

The earth has a funny tendency to speak to whoever treads upon it, even if it is not as directly as Saint Walker may be used to; whatever has been washed up upon the sands will be of some use to them, he is sure, if not only to understand this land a little better. He swivels his head back and forth as he takes in their surroundings, his footsteps light on the sand below.

It doesn't take long for them to run across the carcass of some poor dead creature, one leg still extended as if still wishing to take another step. It is a sad sight to be sure, but not one that means much in the long run... though as will soon become evident, it's not the only carcass they'll be seeing on their journey.

If Natasha were any other person, she might stop to contemplate the carcass, maybe figure out what it meant in the grand scheme of life and death. But she isn't. It's a dead body, and she's seen enough of those in her time (short as it is) to know the message it portrays: this place is brutal. It's a message she already knew, and she's not about to let it get to her.

In short, she keeps moving past it, eyes on the horizon.

"Whatever."

Bucky's not a teenager, and definitely not a teenager who grew up in the times when that word is a valid response, but - he did spend a lot of time around Rikki, after all.

He shoulders his pack, shakes his head, and starts walking. The only attention he spares the beast is to see if he can identify it.

"That doesn't seem like the ones we saw in the first landfall." Quiet comment, saving both his breath and the moisture, but it's both asking Hellboy to confirm, and informing the other two. Whatever's in this desert, it's different from what they've faced before. Maybe. "Not one of the predators, anyway."

Guess they found the source of the stink. The hot buzz of flies around the thing is almost deafening. Hellboy crinkles his nose as they pass by, teeth bared in an apish grimace. "Probably not a bad thing," is all he has to offer.

The desert is flat and bright, and it's easy to see that this body isn't the only one of its kind. Bones are scattered across the sand like bleached white sticks, and the dark mounds heaped here and there in all directions gives him a bad feeling.

He's been in deserts before. Enough to know that this isn't normal. Desert animals are usually tenacious little things, so adapted to the dry and heat it's mind-blowing. But in their desperate attempts to crawl toward the sea, these guys just weren't.

For now, he holds onto those thoughts and just keeps trudging on toward the blazing horizon, his mouth set in a hard line. The sun weaves oily mirage patterns in the sands far ahead, making false promises of water.

It's hot and dry as Hell, but Hellboy doesn't even break a sweat.

Saint Walker's eyes rove over the carcasses that litter the desert, growing increasingly more concerned for the state of this place's wildlife by the minute. If he's not mistaken, this shows that something in this place has changed, whether it's the death of some form of necessary vegetation, or an oasis that has dried up. He clicks his tongue lightly as they pass yet another, and gazes out into the seemingly endless desert in front of them.

Now, he thinks, is as good a time as any to check in on Hal Jordan and Zelgadis' progress, if not only to ensure that Hal's ring hasn't malfunctioned, leaving them stranded in the middle of the desert. He curls his hand into a fist and brings it up to his mouth, speaking directly into his glowing ring.

"Hal Jordan, how do you and Zelgadis fare?"

Hal's voice sounds nasally as if he's speaking with a peg on his nose to block out the stench of pollution and decay. The heat makes the smell worse and he's pretty sure he's going to throw up unless he moves away soon.

"Well I thought I found an oasis where everyone could replenish their supplies, but I'd recommend against drinking the water here."

He transmits an image of what he's seeing to Saint Walker. A dirty, grey lake and the temple can be seen.

Zelgadis is using his own magic to change the air currents, but he's still holding his own nose. "How far away are they from us?"

She doesn't wait for anyone else. "The Oasis sounds as good as any. Let's go."

"Better'n aimless, definitely."

Not tarrying more than necessary sounds like a good idea to him, under the glaring sun.

He almost brings up the point that, if anyone needs a break, they should call it and stop, but it occurs to him that he's the most likely to need it first, or maybe Natasha - though he doubts that. Which only makes him more determined to do this right, not become someone to slow the others down.

"Y'all think we should just walk to it, or try to be cautious once we start approaching?" Bears discussing, he figures, even if saving breath - moisture - is also wise. Evaluating the potential for danger.

"It'll be at least a few days' walk from here. If the magic's holding up, I'm starting to think we should probably talk to Flyboy about conjuring up something a little less conspicuous to get us the rest of the way."

Even suggesting they use magic to get them there sets his teeth on edge, but Hal's magic is a resource they shouldn't ignore, and the idea of walking days in the blistering heat is making him yearn for an easier mode of travel.

"We'll let them know we're coming. If anyone has a problem, we'll deal with it."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Akranon Mission Log

CROSSING THE DESERT

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

CROSSING THE DESERT ; ON FOOT

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject