Old Ruins

January 24, 2016:

In Kenya, The Authority comes face to face with Deathstroke's past horrors.

Kenya

Characters

NPCs: Alexander Peabody

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The gate opens and the group steps through from the very artificial atmosphere of the Resolve and out onto the brightly lit plains of Kenya. Specifically the middle of fucking nowhere Kenya, which despite the time of year is a balmy 88 degrees. So… a nice day all in all. Slade immediately starts walking, his armored mask sliding down into place with a soft clank, "We won't have to deal with any native out this far, this place is very clearly the sort of place they don't go, half of them because they fear rumors of magic the other half because they fear anyplace that was blown up this badly." before anyone can ask what he means by that they come to the rim of the crater. Nearly a hundred and fifty feet across there is a divot in the otherwise flat open grassy nothingness of hte plains, it dips down nearly four stories and seems to be a nearly perfect circle. The earth there has only the slightest of fuzz on it, as if the grass there wants to grow in the crater, but can't really manage, only a few tufts managing to make it more then a couple of inches in the air, as if the crater had mange in the worst kind of way. "Come on. We need to find a way in." and he hops over the edge of the crater and lightly jogs his way down the incline towards the center.

Lunair has opted for her power armor, a black visor snapping and sealing over her face. It also gives her the ability to keep up with the others, since she seems to be stuck with a baseline human physique. She drew the short straw there. She does have some gear with her - including those tasty pills, a geiger counter and some other things she felt important. She nods at Deathstroke, and jogs along after. Yes, she cheats and uses her armor to help her. But it's still a metric assload of running.

When they said to dress for the weather, there wasn't any kidding in that. It was a far cry from being back in New York and Gotham, where the weather was total shit and you had to wear fifty layers of clothing just to go outside. This was like a little slice of heaven that she wouldn't mind coming back to. Sans crater. Shorts and a t-shirt was all she needed, a backpack and her gear attached too. A nice baseball cap and sunglasses to keep the glare from her eyes as she lets out a little huff. No time to admire the view.

She skirts and skates down after the two, taking care to keep a decent balance that wouldn't cause her to topple forward, lose her shit and roll.

Cause Melody hates rolling.

Audrey pauses at the edge of the crater, getting a look at the whole thing. It's not a promising image, looking like what's left over from something very bad happening. But going in is part of the deal at this point. She's geared up as usual, ready for trouble. Even if she's still sweating in the sudden heat. As she follows the others down, she takes up a rearguard position, watching around them.

Peabody, geared up in a surprisingly well worn and fitted set of combat fatigues, complete with fully loaded weapons harness and sling and a tan colored case of various forms of coms equipment, takes a knee on the craters rim. He begins setting up his station, "I'll keep an eye on the perimeter, let you guys know if we draw any attention. Setting up the sat-camo field now." the case pops open and a satelite dish unfolds from inside it, and a trio of drones whir to life, floating up into the air and splitting off in different directions, "By the time you guys find the entrance I'll have a holo field over this site, should keep us from ariel recon." Slade doesn't answer out loud, he doesn't have to, this is why Peabody is Slade's go to guy fort his sort of thing, he knows his business and doesn't need coddling.

Deathstroke comes to a stop at the bottom of the crater, which is a mostly flat circle roughly thirty feet across and pauses there, eyeing it but clearly not as it is now. "Main entrance was there," he points then makes a slashing motion with the flat of his palm, "it's not an option, we blew it with four satchel charges on the way out, but no lab like this is without another entrance, fan out, begin searching the crater. If we're lucky not all of the ways in were collapsed." he has an odd definition of 'lucky'. Given the size and depth of the crater, it's like there might be ways inside it that frankly weren't meant to exsist, like where the 'floor' of the crater is very very close to the 'ceiling' fo the lab.

Lunair is totally cheating with her stuff, but it's how she rolls. She's secretly glad Peabody is here, and the others, too. But she's also quieter than usual. Uneasy. It's hard to say why. Perhaps Lunair is just odd, which is entirely a possibility. Nevertheless, she has things to focus on and it acts to strangle away the bad memories and intrusive thoughts. She stops just behind Deathstroke, nodding as he points.

She is going to assist in looking with them, then. Tense. Uneasy.

"At least that's a general area.." Melody murmurs to herself, both hands upon her hips as she twists left and right, the cap soon taken from her head only to be replaced backwards as she slings the bookbag from her shoulders. She takes a knee as she unzips, drawing out a collapsable shovel, then zips right back up and slings upon her shoulders again and gets right to work. She wasn't full of snark, piss and beans today. It.. actually felt great outside and she was happy! A happy Melody is a quiet Melody! Though, a weird Lunair was a quiet one which would be noted later.

The spot she chooses is a little bit off towards the left, not dead center but in the apex of center and up up we're going up! The shovel hits with a good shove and a push down with her foot to get a good catch of dirt which was soon tossed to the side and away from everyone else.

Audrey's powers don't have anything to do with finding hidden entrances. Except that her powers lend themselves to stealth operations, which usually require some infiltration. Training, then, is what she falls back on as Deathstroke notes the old entrance. "This far underground, they must've had a ventilation system," she murmurs, looking along the crater as she maps out what the base must have looked like from her memory of the tapes and what she knows of places like this. After a moment, she starts off to the opposite side from Melody, watching the way the light hits the crater.

Deathstroke moves towards the center where the entrance is that he said was collapsed, he stares down at the earth and uses the tip of his sword to brush durt and grass aside until he finds what he was looking for, a pair of steel doors melted and warped into their frames so fully they'll never open again. The sword tip tinks softly on the steel, the sound solid and not echoy, so there's no empty space behind them. Best to check. He waits a moment, then turns to begin his own search, thrusting the sword into the eart at intervals, seeking anything that might be an entrance.

Overhead the drowns find their possitions and fire out black spikes of aluminum and ceramics. a massive triangle of holo camo flickers to life over their heads, causing the shadows to dance for a second before steadying. Any imaging from above will now just show an empty crater. Peabody makes sure the gear is set and then takes a seat, his back to the crater, and props up a knee to set his scoped rifle on. He begins to scan the horizon, slowly turning in different directions to check on any and everything that catches his attention.

Lunair is just - going to focus. Focus, focus. There's no mines here, she reminds herself. No - nope. Se nods at Melody. She is glad at least, that Rant seems to be in a good mood. It's nice, but it's hard to shake off that edge. She is focusing on exploring, eyes, hands and even the odd toe or spearpoint testing points for stability. An entrance is no good if it smashes you, after all.

Actually, she seems to favor using the ever so disposable spear to test safe place. And then there's a TINK. TINKTINKTINKTINK. It's like a pixie orgy over there. "Ah- hey! I can fit in here." She peers in. There's a grunt, as she has to move a block of cement. "Ta da!" Now big enough even for Deathstroke sized party members.

Melody hits something! Paydirt! "I.. nope. Solid ground." She moves to another spot, digging, coming up with nothing but more solid ground. At this rate, she was probably going to unearth a whole section of solid ground to create a reflection. She looks up, watching as the holo is deployed, actually admiring the tech until Lunair catches her attention. "Sweet." She mutters to herself, lifting an arm to check the consistency of her deoderant and.. yes! Smells great!

Strong enough for Deathstroke, but made for Rant.

"I say biggest goes first." She calls out, folding up her shovel and hooking it into a loop upon her book-bag.

Audrey leaves her quadrant when Lunair calls out, moving over to the other mutant to peer into the darkness below. She crouches next to the entrance, looking over to Deathstroke at Melody's suggestion for who goes first. Lifting one hand, she pulls light from around her until it forms a small, softly-glowing ball at her shoulder. "Lights?" she asks, looking to Deathstroke for confirmation.

Deathstroke steps over to the hole and stares down into the darkness before nodding at Lux, he pulls out a trio of chem lights and cracks one of them before shaking it up and tossing it inside, illuminating everything with a green glow, "When we were here before the darkness only hindered us, they didn't seem worried about it. No reason not to light it up. If you see something move, don't hessitate, you put it down. I don't care if it's a fucking earthworm." and then he's dropping through into the green light. First one in, last one out, say what you want to about his leadership, he's no coward and he's no hypocrite. Before he lands they can hear the heavy chu-chuck of the bolt drawn on his G36 rifle.

Lunair will pull an electric lantern, keeping it steady. Hey, she can make one but it's dangerous to overrely on powers. There is a flashlight in her gear, just in case, too. So she has mundane gear. She'll fasten it to her shoulder armor, and heft a long, slender plasma rifle. She prefers to compliment the weapons of others. And she is always in awe of the others around her. Deathstroke isn't a coward or a hypocrite, really. But she also has a lot to learn about it. She looks over to the others and will take whatever marching order they like. She may guard their rear if they wish.

Melody at least waits until Deathstroke and Lunair were out of the way before she drops down with a crouch, her fingers touching down upon the ground as she lands, waiting for that moment to slowly rise and take a few steps back to withdraw her pistols that remained within her holsters. She wasn't the best like the rest of them but she was learning, and for once, she was taking this seriously.

Audrey nods to Deathstroke, and two more of the light globes coalesce at her shoulder before each of the three floats over to her companions. You get a witch light! You get a witch light! Everybody gets a witch light! Except for Audrey, who can see just fine in the dark. The lights bob behind each person's shoulder, following them like balloons. "Those should last a couple hours, unless I dispel them," she murmurs, before climbing down into the space.

Deathstroke has to hunch over to move through the half collapsed hallway, part of the problem of being his size, but he somehow manages to make walking in a crouching squat fast and graceful. Enhancements aren't fair. His rifle is shouldered up tight and where ever he looks the gun goes to, the beam of it's attached light illuminating the hall. Every fifty feet or so he stops and drops another chem light stick, like wee glowy green breadcrumbs.

The place is a hell. The walls, what one can clearly see of them, are cracked and crumbling and the few places where the concrete is still whole, there are signs of battle, bullet pock marks, splatters of fluid that's black in the poor lighting, bits of human and animal bone here or there with old slightly corroded metalic things still woven through them and attached in odd ways. The air is stale, dank, but not vomit worthy. "Eyes open, we're looking for anything."

Lunair will - just let her lantern be a sad girl at the dance compared to the witch lights. Just helps, she thinks. She does offer a soft 'thank you' to Audrey. Lunair is totally envious. He even makes crouching squat walking awesome. But it's also a point of respect and awe. She keeps her plasma rifle up, frowning as she looks around. There's more unease. That phobia is creeping in. She is trying desperately to concentrate and count when memories become intrusive.

WAS a lab. WAS a lab. WAS a lab. The mantra is repeated and she somehow remembers not to step on things needlessly. Details are noted. Marks, splatters, potential escape routes…

Hell is pretty much relative. Melody once sniffed Smooth from a table while some little demon thing munched on someone in the darkness. Even though that memory is completely subjective, it still makes her stomach turn just enough for her to handle most things. Most.

Crouching was a touch easy for her, she was small and short, moving around, slightly. But she's had enough training to watch her step, follow the path that was laid in front of her, foot to foot. If they didn't blow up or step on a rusty nail she wouldn't either. Their steps, her steps. "Anything, anything specific? Something shiny? Something that goes bee dop bee doop?" She may just not like being in this spot. That happiness she held was soon turning just a little bit dark.

As soon as Audrey hits the ground, she's pulling a mask up over her nose and mouth. She was not kidding about the techno-herpes. Or at least about not wanting to get somehow infected by them.

Her steps are slow and near-silent, and she hangs back a bit, just out of the circle of light she's made for her companions. Some things that are hidden in the light might be more visible in the darkness. Especially as she relaxes her eyes to take in spectrums outside the usual visibility.

It's a long haul honestly, and the horrors they see become more and more shocking. They come to an intersection room, where four hallways lead out in different directions but the main room is wide. There are some bullet riddled soda machines to one side and a sandwhich vending machine without anything edible inside it anymore, only they seem to have arms and legs and human bones moulding into their structures. Slade stops walking at one point in particular and is staring at the floor, a massive black splatter mark colors the floor at his feet, a massive one, not like from arterial spray so much as like the kind that might be there if a human beind had been dropped from space to impact in that spot or were hit by a train right there. He's quiet for a moment, for him a long moment, and then reshoulders his weapon and walks over the spot, apparently dismissing it from his mind. "The main labs were this way." he says, passing one set of doors what appear to have been warped closed by their structure cracking and leaning in on them, and another pair of doors that hang off the hinges, holes blasted clean through them. He steps over one robo-labcoat and his armored boot comes down on the skull with a sickening crunching noise, crushing it to powerder under his weight. It looked intentional since he's not stepped on anything else yet. Eventually he ends up staring where some doors are closed, tightly, but not, apparently, by damage of any kind. He tries the handle, they're … locked?

It was a lab. Was a lab. Was a lab. Lunair winces at the crunching noises. She is looking, following Deathstroke's gaze. The place is making her uneasy. She walks silently, cheating with her own enhancements. "… should we try to pick it quietly?" Lunair asks. She seems surprised as he is that the doors are locked. Lunair is at least wearing a mask or sealed within her power armor. She shakes her head at Audrey. Nothing they hadn't seen.

Deep breath. Deeeep breath. Count to 10. Focus on the lock.

The light on her shoulder didn't help much. Considering this was the first time Melody was in a.. situation such as this. She tried her best to keep her eyes away from the melded.. human.. vending machine, silently telling herself a joke that they should have left those pringles alone but it didn't help. Her stomach was turning, her gun quickly holstered and hand clamped over her mouth to not vomit, though she could probably feel the acid burning the back of her throat with the way her eyes watered with tears. And for the love of god, she better not cry. Isn't that how you contact techno-herpies?

Happy mood was totally gone, the big black spot she could seriously guess was a shit ton of blood, those flashes from horror movies do nothing to the real thing but there was a.. little ray of hope that there was a door there. Guh, anything to get out of that mindset. Since the door was locked the best thing to do was to pry it open. So Melody takes the initiative to snatch the shovel from her back, snap it open and..

..hand it right to Audrey. She was going to go over there.. and find a bucket to carry.

Deathstroke is focused on the mission. Ideally, Audrey would be too, but…Well. From the shadows at the back, she can't help but notice both Lunair's and Melody's distress. "It happened a long time ago," she says quietly to them both, as reassuring as she can. She's not the best at reassuring, but at least she tries. Taking the shovel from Melody, she looks back to Deathstroke and the door. The man has super strength and a ridiculous sword. He can probably cut his way in if he wants to. "I can throw up a veil on this side of things. Let us see in without whoever or whatever's in there seeing out."

Deathstroke lets the rifle sling down across his body and he pulls out his battle lance, the staff like creation of Peabody's that is every bit his trademark that the large sword is. "You can make it so we see through the wall?" he asks, sounding impressed and annoyed at the same time. This is the sort of thing he should have known before going in, it's crazy useful. As for the distress of hte others, he doesn't make note of it, they'll handle it or they won't, only one of those is a problem for him and it's one he knows how to cure quickly. With dicipline.

Lunair blinks. A battle lance. Cool. "Thanks. And really? That is cool." Lunair is in awe of Lux's newly admitted power. Neat! She does make a note to be glad her room doesn't share a wall with Lux's though, or a power malfunction might get SUPER AWKWARD.

For now, Lunair's distress is largely internalized. Those who screamed had their throats cut. Simple. She just nods. A sympathetic glance for Audrey. As Deathstroke doesn't answer her on the lock pick, she just assumes he's going to do the wall thing or lance it and turns to look behind them. And above them. Always look those places.

"Yeah.. and you would think those arms rotted off by now.." Melody quietly says. But still, she didn't want to be bothered, nor really focus on that thing at all. Lux's power was a cool thing, and she'd rather see that than… arms out of vending machines right about now. Though, if what's inside was much worse then, she'd just rather go home and deal with the parents. She still hasn't seen them since she was supposed to be there for Christmas.

There was a quiet little pace behind them all, nothing like trying to tame the stomach into not throwing up that grilled cheese sammy with some good ol' tomato bisque.

"No, I can-" Audrey pauses before she answers, blinking. Rarely does the young mutant look surprised. She prepares for just about everything. She spent years not only practicing her powers, but with military intelligence analyzing them and encouraging her to try different things with them.

Apparently, no one ever suggested making things not herself and not combatants invisible.

Taking a deep breath, she moves toward the door. "I was going to say, I meant I could throw something up on this side of the door when you opened it," she admits. "But in theory…Yeah. In theory I could."

Frowning, she steps up to the door, setting her hand against it. Her hand goes invisible easily enough. She's used to letting the light pass through herself. The door, though, may take more concentration.

Deathstroke nods his head at her, "Do it." he says flatly, and with a slightly motion of his hand one end of the staff sizzles to life quitely, a white hot flame like glow shooting a couple of inches from the end and causing a fwe sparks to trickle down like dangerous snow flakes. "Armory," he points to one side of himself, "Rant," he points to the other side, "when I go in, you check corners and shadows, fast as fast, I'll take the middle, anything happens you fall in behind me and teh three of you cover one another. Bullets then blades, don't bother with a reload unless you have to." he then seems to tense slightly as he waits for Lux's magic to work.

Lunair is in awe! That is totally neat. But she nods, as Deathstroke calls her codename and points. She will move over that way, nodding. Thankfully, Lunair really need not reload unless she feels frisky or is depowered. "Yes," She agrees. Firm, quiet. Not even a pun. She just - is. It's sort of refreshing, probably, aside from the simmering nerves and urge to just level the damn place. Poor Rant, though.

Join the Authority! See the world, they say! Save the world! Man you got that great insurance! The kind that rich people have! Only if you can stomach seeing.. whatever the fuck that was back there. Yup, Rant's mind was all downhill from there but once her name was called she snaps to. She was ready, taking up that side at the left, one foot pressing back at the ready to move in and clear the corners where need be. She doesn't shut herself down. Her stomach dropped right into her ass and her heart was racing a mile a minute. There was even a little lump in her throat and a slight rattle of her hand against the gun she holds which steadies with a firm and righteous grip.

Audrey half closes her eyes, focusing on the light around them. When she goes invisible, her mutation helps. She lets the light simply pass through her, and given her particular relationship with it, her own body helps. This is a little bit different. This is pushing the light through the door, refusing to let it bounce back at them. In a gas or a liquid, it would probably be simpler. But these doors are solid steel, and solids don't like to be invisible.

Audrey is breathing hard by the time the rest of the team starts to see a difference. The area around her hand starts to grey out first. Slowly, bit by bit, it turns from steel to cloudy glass, until an area the size of a porthole is clear enough to look into the room.

Of course, at that point, Audrey looks like she's deadlifting a few hundred pounds.

Deathstroke only needed to see it once, "Drop it." he says softly to Lux, his mind holding a perfect image play back of the room, she only had to hold it for a fraction of a second for him. "The Scientist is in there." he says, two fingers twitching straight ahead, "That massive gray shape leaning agianst the wall isn't debris, it's our target. I see," even though there's no invisible door or anything, "two mounted turret like weapons on what appear to have been lab animals there," he points to the upper side of Armory's corner, "and there," he points to where the opposite corner will be ahead of Rant when they enter. "I think there were either mines or mounted drone like weapons made from rats and lab equipment along the walls, and above clinging to the ceiling was something that looked asleep and spider like if spiders were the size of a volvo and had metal blades for legs. Spider is mine, kill everything else, don't shoot the scientist… the uh, giant gray blob of semi-rotten flesh and mechanics." he clarifies. "Clear?" he asks, motioning Lux behind him, so she can have a second to catch her breath.

Lunair does her best to memorize what she sees. She nods. And frowns. She will keep her plasma up, then. All the better to sear away metal and vital circuits. She is tensed, ready and waiting. Desperately staving off the urge to go nuts, blow a hole in the wall and run screaming. So happily, she is disciplined and prepared.

Rant wasn't paying attention to the other things inside the room, just the big grey blob. She was shaking, trying her best not to show it, but she was mentally kicking the living crap out of Deathstroke for having her handle the rats. Rats. And.. spiders.. dear jesus lord the spiders. "Okay.." She mutters quietly, all the while getting a little bit weak in the knees. She wasn't going to sleep for a very, very long time after this.

Audrey lets out a sharp breath as she drops the effort of pushing the light through the door, the witch lights at everyone's shoulders flaring bright for a split second with the backlash. She drops to a crouch to catch her breath, eyes still closed to let her senses equalize. New tricks. Good fun. Hard work.

By the time Deathstroke is finished laying everything out, she's recovered enough to draw her gun, pushing back up and nodding once. "Shoot everything but the blob at twelve o'clock and the spider on the ceiling. Copy that."

Deathstroke is quiet for a moment, looking from shoulder to shoulder and the girls that are there at his sides, "Hey," he says firmly, his voice sharpening to an edge, "get your shit together. This is what we train for, this is what all those hours in the all those rooms is for. Trust the training, move as your body knows how to move, don't second guess yourself of your squadmates. I only make the best." the white light at the top of the lance narrows to a point and he swings it in a sharp arc, bringing the glowing end down in a pair of slicing X marks on the door that cause the edges to glow pink and white and slag away before the doors just collapse in on themselves. He doesn't even say 'go', he's just through the door, a fistful of glittering throwing stars preceding him with force nearly equal to that of a bullet as they whistle towards the spider thing on the ceilling.

Lunair nods. Fighting a phobia is difficult. But she's trying. She really is. She is content to leave the spider to Deathstroke. Lunair does respect privacy of fights and the personal nature of choosing one's opponent. Lunair heft her plasma rifle. She's got the layout of it. Adrenaline and training are kicking in to wash away the fear in favor of DESTROY UTTERLY. She will charge forth, flanking Deathstroke easily enough and blasting at those turrets, to jam their barrels with plasma or melt them but good. Whatever animal they are attached to will find life very unpleasant.

Melody jerks just a little, her gaze cutting towards Deathstroke as she tries to retain her game face. Yeah, she was scared shitless. She was always scared shitless. She should be used to being scared shitless right now. Though, a little part has to be sad for Deathstroke, he's surrounded by a bunch of squirrely women. That in itself makes her want to laugh and a little smile curls upon her lips. A nervous one, but it's there. Trust the training. Blank it all out. They're not rats. They're just.. things that are trying to kill you like half of everything else in life.

And they were moving, Melody all but squeezes to her side of the room, one gun only used for now as she begins to fire towards her targets. No glows, not shutting off the fear, no cutting off the pain centers within her brain. Nothing. It was all her.

Audrey spent the better part of a year and a half living on the streets and in the sewers. Rats and spiders just aren't all that terrifying anymore. As the others rush in, she follows behind them, picking off the loose ends and anything that looks like it might make it past the others with pinpoint accuracy.

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