@hallowleylines > @cadcnce > @dawnroyalty
Was Sargon always this hot before? Before? Wait, he’s never been here before has he? No, no he hasn’t. A wipe of the brow staring up at the sun beating down mercilessly upon him. These are the worst conditions to both be a Sarkaz and Aegir. His skins drying and burning at such a horrendous rate that he wished to keel over and die already. Fuck these wastelands. Where’s those tropical jungles everyone is always talking about? At least they were provided with a car to get here but still… It has to at least be hot enough to fry beast meat on the ground itself.
“You know when they sent the location, I wasn’t expecting be in the middle of bum fucking nowhere ghost town having to delve into an abandoned crypt. I was hoping there might be some wonderful ladies around we could chat up and some food to dine on. Would have been a good time to get Zephyr’s pan-… no wait it’s stockings training. Put that into practice too.This is awful. Morally corrupt to deprive us… him… of his rights. Bleh.”
A hand place against the glass panes to spot inside against the shining relflection, face almost smashed into it. A peak through the windows of these stone buildings was enough to give an idea. Cobwebs lining the corners of every room and wooden tables that seemed to be rotting away with neglect and time. These could make for temporary shelters during they’re stay but… there. A scurry of a shadow across the room. Too large to be a pet, perhaps someone’s child. Hard to get a look when you’re on the verge of a heat stroke.
A meander backward to regather his surroundings. Nothing seems lableled here… or rather all the markers to the building are eroded off. He’d like to find the inn or just any amount of non-sunlight at this moment. Ah, he’ll get back to that in a second. Isn’t there a noticeable lack of… well people walking about. Even a place like this should have a few folks walking the streets beside the newbies just blowing in. A population of what again? Three hundred-ish?
“I guess these folk… are really freaked out to be… locking… themselves away… Crypt keepers… found dead after disappearing for two days. Bones were completely removed from… their bodies. That’s a horrifying thing to find and… rumors are it’s been picking people that stray… starting with buildings…. Maybe we should… Ugh…. Ughhhhhhh…!!!”
Another few paces and he just collapses backward into the dirt, dusting scattering throughout the air around him without a care for the other two. So this is it, the end of his journey his nigh but here. Not death by some monstrosity or another’s hands like he expected, but the most brutal force around here. Mother nature herself, a creation so powerful that it wasn’t ever meant to be overcome. Now it would help if this dumbass would stop wearing three layers of clothes.
“You two… go one without me…. I can’t finish the mission…. vision blurry… heart failing… object permanence… dissipating… uuuuuuuuggggggghhhhhh…. Just kill me you two…” There goes his tongue hanging out before spluttering and spitting onto the ground. Yeah, Yeah that’s dirt getting into his mouth. It’s been like 5 minute and he’s miserable already.
There’s a striking contrast between the two men of the group. Where the fish out of water was crisping up to be lunch for some lucky scavenging birds the actual bird seemed to be doing alright. Sure, they had to leave their characteristic coat they normally wore back in the car. But otherwise he was much better off. The lack of the article also made him look a fair bit more intimidating. Daggers on his thighs and a sword on his back. A stiff leather harness made to keep weapons where they needed to be during fast maneuvers and tactical takedowns. Things normally concealed were now on full display, but that apparently wouldn’t matter given the barren streets after leaving the lot off the desolate road.
It felt like something out of the opening to an old film. Sand whipping against battered doors and the sensation of several sets of unseen eyes peering through hidden barriers to watch the trio as they descended like a mismatch group of protagonists on a bubble of existence. A town on the verge of giving up. If there was anything the Ursan raised Liberi knew, it was that happy endings and clean resolutions were rare, despite his projected optimism and cheer. Given what Jester had already told the, if this was to be the setting for a movie set? It’d probably be horror and not a western.
“D’aww, how sweet, even on a mission you’re thinking about little ol’ me. No. I think we’ll be lucky to see anyone standing around at this rate, let alone a lady, and further let alone one that would wear something like thigh highs. Wishful thinking is one thing, your hallucinations are another, Jes. And maybe if you didn’t dress like a babushka you wouldn’t be having them, or on the fucking ground. If there were any chances of meeting some cuties, you just killed it. C’mon. Up and at em.”
Unceremoniously does he pop the cap on his flask, saturating the Sarkaz’s face with a drizzle of water before replacing it back on his hip and planting a foot on their gut. It may not provide any additional height for surveying the area, but it is an excuse to… well. Anyway. We’ll figure that out later. It’s not important. What was important was that the leader of the operation was proving to be unfortunately useless before anything had actually happened. The Liberi wipes a hand across their brow before they settle their weight on the leg and look out across the buildings.
The architecture didn’t make anything in particular stand out, but looking at the strip fronts and signage the typical array of services and amenities could be made out. At one point this place may have actually known how to have some fun. So much for that. The Liberi clicks his tongue, folding his arms and looking over to the Lupo with the group. A brow lifts. He didn’t know much about Lappland yet, but gathered that like most operators that came around Rhodes Island she had her share of history. And experience. And capability.
“What do you think? As much sense as it makes to go prancing over to the crypts immediately like a bunch of graverobbers, do you think we should at least try to talk to someone? Find some level of authority and introduce ourselves? Maybe someone with intel? Find a bar and get drunk hour one?”
