Difference between revisions of "Eureka Subway, Part 1 - RPLOG"

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23/7/2023
 
23/7/2023
 
=Log=
 
=Log=
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<div></div><div title="Pteryx" style="margin-top:2em">(Pteryx) Pteryx tries to walk behind the group. The mutant&#39;s brightly coloured shirt contrasted just about everything about this situation, socks and sandals, on his back legs, a pair of rather worn short jeans, he looked to be about as unbattle ready as possible should things go rough. Some small drones surround him, possibly to make up for his own lack of dexterity. Plastered on his face is a growing sense of dread, as he walks along the others going in the same direction. Looking for just about anything to break the ice, he says as loudly as possible, &quot;Uh, every heard of them mutant that lost their left arm and leg, well they&#39;re all right now!&quot;</div> <div title="Theia" style="margin-top:2em">(Theia) Brushing tunnel dust off one rolled-up sleeve of her black leather jacket, Theia hurries down the tunnel with her head bowed, clearly keen to spend as little time as possible in the dirty tunnel. In her haste the feline accidentally nudges the wall of the tunnel on more than one occasion, much to her clear annoyance. Reaching the room she was directed to before any others, she finishes picking bits of rock out of her pale hair and awaits the arrival of three familiar mutants she recognises, one hand resting on her hip just above her holster. &quot;Hey guys! At least I&#39;m not stuck down here all by myself... you here for Elena&#39;s notice too?&quot;</div> <div title="Ysadora" style="margin-top:2em">(Ysadora) Ysadora picks her way carefully through the mines. The dust in the air has combined with the water vapors hanging around Ysadora to form a patina of grime that coats her clothing and clumps her hair into a matted mess. Every once in a while, she stops to shake the excess off like a dog. &quot;Um... Elena Martin, Elena Martin... Does someone actually have an office down here?&quot; Despite her grimy state, Ysadora&#39;s voice and manner are upbeat. &quot;It&#39;s cozy enough, but it&#39;d be even better with some wooden walls or something.&quot; Sputtering light fills the tunnel as Ysadora raises one hand holding a candle. Another hovers limblessly behind her, loosely grabbing the handle of her scythe.</div> <div title="Junes" style="margin-top:2em">(Junes) Junes came running in nearly tripping but tails moving to readjust their weight as you see a chimeric skunk look back up with a wave &quot;wow good to see you all! sorry i got caught up a bit&quot; district their unusually open sweater and tights off &quot;any prep we should take or plan?&quot; patting their backpack</div> <div title="Narwen" style="margin-top:2em">(Narwen) Elena&#39;s Office in the Mines<p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>  It&#39;s dirty, it&#39;s dusty, it&#39;s noisy. The Eureka mines began life as Termite tunnels, and this office sits in a side branch of hard-packed earth. It has a mix of sturdy, industrial furniture that&#39;s been dragged down here -- filing cabinets, an ancient battleship-grey steel desk -- and a few unvarnished wooden chairs that look to have been put together on the spot. A fold-up camp bed in steel and canvas, heavily chewed up by nanites, is propped upright against a wall. There are no computers or electronics in sight; the most advanced piece of equipment is probably the stapler.<p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>  The air here is cool but a little damp, and room smells of that, of paper, of rust, but mostly of its main occupant: a human female. The earth muffles the noise of the city above, but less so the constant irregular sound of pickaxes striking rock, less-frequent thumps from something heavier -- hammers? some mutant&#39;s iron-hard fists? -- and the constant chatter and cackling of the miners.</div> <div title="Narwen" style="margin-top:2em">(Narwen) It was a small adventure just getting here. The entrance to the mines is easy to find -- just follow the sound of pickaxes -- but the inside is literally a warren: old Termite tunnels, dug out and then abandoned, now taken over by workers from the city. An exhausted group of miners, heading out after their shift with cash in their pockets, pointed you in the right direction to get to &quot;the Boss&#39;s office&quot;. And here you are, shuffled into an appendix of the tunnels that barely fits even this many people plus the battered, industrial furniture.<p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>  &quot;Listen, thanks so much for coming. I&#39;m Elena. I run the mine, day to day.&quot; She&#39;s standing with you, leaning against the desk and running a hand through short-cropped brown hair -- and it&#39;s actual hair, not fur. In fact, as far as you can tell, she&#39;s entirely human. Not so unusual out here in Eureka, but a strange sight for anyone coming from Fairhaven. She&#39;s maybe five-six and lean, boots and denim, wearing a hard-hat like all the other workers you&#39;ve seen. There&#39;re bags under her eyes. &quot;I wasn&#39;t sure anyone&#39;d show. I can&#39;t pay you, can&#39;t offer any reward -- the mine belongs to the city, and the city doesn&#39;t give a shit as long as ore&#39;s coming out -- but if you can find Linda I&#39;ll buy you a drink or six.&quot; She breathes in and out, organising her thoughts.<p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>  &quot;Linda&#39;s from Third Shift. Doug here&#39;s the shift lead,&quot; she says, gesturing to the other new face, some kind of human-rodent mix, taller and a lot heavier, wearing orange coveralls. &quot;The missing worker&#39;s named Linda McKee. She&#39;s a bit shorter than me, mostly human but got a bit of coyote in her. Red-brown hair, tanned. Tail. She would&#39;ve been wearing coveralls -- grey, right, Doug? -- and boots plus a helmet and lamp. She&#39;s been gone a day and a half now. Everyone&#39;s supposed to take spare water with them, but if she didn&#39;t, or if she lost it, and she&#39;s stuck somewhere, she may not have a lot of time. We already searched all the active parts of the mine, plus the tunnels we&#39;ve worked out. Spent a whole shift on that, and I can already hear the Council typing up angry notes about the drop in output. There&#39;s no cave-ins, no flooding, and she&#39;s not asleep in a storeroom somewhere. But,&quot; she continues, taking a breath, &quot;there&#39;s the old tunnels, all the mess the Termites dug out and whatever that leads to. We don&#39;t go down there, because -- well, because we&#39;re not idiots, basically. I took a look at the entrance to the upper part last night, didn&#39;t see anything, but I&#39;m not sending my guys in there and losing a whole crew. Needs someone who can actually handle themselves.&quot; She smiles wanly. &quot;That&#39;s you, I hope.&quot;</div> <div title="Pteryx" style="margin-top:2em">(Pteryx) Pteryx stares with curiosity, human!? Pure human!? Though he tries to catch himself from the moment. The skunk beast tries to get up on two legs, reaching out for mayhaps a handshake... Showing off 4 arms before he crashes back to all fours...  &quot;Dag nabbit... Howdy huma... I mean Elena, thanks fer them physical description on the missin, any er, unusual behavior frum em as of late too?&quot; Lookin &#39;round the place, this... did not look too safe as a working condition, but them workers seemed to know what they&#39;re doin.... &quot;Oh right, howdy, names&#39; Pteryx and if we find yer missin, also a human? We can fix em up in too shakes of a lambs tail! Or at least get &#39;em stable enough fer sendin ta a hospital...&quot;</div>

Revision as of 21:27, 23 July 2023

Participants

Date

23/7/2023

Log

(Pteryx) Pteryx tries to walk behind the group. The mutant's brightly coloured shirt contrasted just about everything about this situation, socks and sandals, on his back legs, a pair of rather worn short jeans, he looked to be about as unbattle ready as possible should things go rough. Some small drones surround him, possibly to make up for his own lack of dexterity. Plastered on his face is a growing sense of dread, as he walks along the others going in the same direction. Looking for just about anything to break the ice, he says as loudly as possible, "Uh, every heard of them mutant that lost their left arm and leg, well they're all right now!"
(Theia) Brushing tunnel dust off one rolled-up sleeve of her black leather jacket, Theia hurries down the tunnel with her head bowed, clearly keen to spend as little time as possible in the dirty tunnel. In her haste the feline accidentally nudges the wall of the tunnel on more than one occasion, much to her clear annoyance. Reaching the room she was directed to before any others, she finishes picking bits of rock out of her pale hair and awaits the arrival of three familiar mutants she recognises, one hand resting on her hip just above her holster. "Hey guys! At least I'm not stuck down here all by myself... you here for Elena's notice too?"
(Ysadora) Ysadora picks her way carefully through the mines. The dust in the air has combined with the water vapors hanging around Ysadora to form a patina of grime that coats her clothing and clumps her hair into a matted mess. Every once in a while, she stops to shake the excess off like a dog. "Um... Elena Martin, Elena Martin... Does someone actually have an office down here?" Despite her grimy state, Ysadora's voice and manner are upbeat. "It's cozy enough, but it'd be even better with some wooden walls or something." Sputtering light fills the tunnel as Ysadora raises one hand holding a candle. Another hovers limblessly behind her, loosely grabbing the handle of her scythe.
(Junes) Junes came running in nearly tripping but tails moving to readjust their weight as you see a chimeric skunk look back up with a wave "wow good to see you all! sorry i got caught up a bit" district their unusually open sweater and tights off "any prep we should take or plan?" patting their backpack
(Narwen) Elena's Office in the Mines

It's dirty, it's dusty, it's noisy. The Eureka mines began life as Termite tunnels, and this office sits in a side branch of hard-packed earth. It has a mix of sturdy, industrial furniture that's been dragged down here -- filing cabinets, an ancient battleship-grey steel desk -- and a few unvarnished wooden chairs that look to have been put together on the spot. A fold-up camp bed in steel and canvas, heavily chewed up by nanites, is propped upright against a wall. There are no computers or electronics in sight; the most advanced piece of equipment is probably the stapler.

The air here is cool but a little damp, and room smells of that, of paper, of rust, but mostly of its main occupant: a human female. The earth muffles the noise of the city above, but less so the constant irregular sound of pickaxes striking rock, less-frequent thumps from something heavier -- hammers? some mutant's iron-hard fists? -- and the constant chatter and cackling of the miners.
(Narwen) It was a small adventure just getting here. The entrance to the mines is easy to find -- just follow the sound of pickaxes -- but the inside is literally a warren: old Termite tunnels, dug out and then abandoned, now taken over by workers from the city. An exhausted group of miners, heading out after their shift with cash in their pockets, pointed you in the right direction to get to "the Boss's office". And here you are, shuffled into an appendix of the tunnels that barely fits even this many people plus the battered, industrial furniture.

"Listen, thanks so much for coming. I'm Elena. I run the mine, day to day." She's standing with you, leaning against the desk and running a hand through short-cropped brown hair -- and it's actual hair, not fur. In fact, as far as you can tell, she's entirely human. Not so unusual out here in Eureka, but a strange sight for anyone coming from Fairhaven. She's maybe five-six and lean, boots and denim, wearing a hard-hat like all the other workers you've seen. There're bags under her eyes. "I wasn't sure anyone'd show. I can't pay you, can't offer any reward -- the mine belongs to the city, and the city doesn't give a shit as long as ore's coming out -- but if you can find Linda I'll buy you a drink or six." She breathes in and out, organising her thoughts.

"Linda's from Third Shift. Doug here's the shift lead," she says, gesturing to the other new face, some kind of human-rodent mix, taller and a lot heavier, wearing orange coveralls. "The missing worker's named Linda McKee. She's a bit shorter than me, mostly human but got a bit of coyote in her. Red-brown hair, tanned. Tail. She would've been wearing coveralls -- grey, right, Doug? -- and boots plus a helmet and lamp. She's been gone a day and a half now. Everyone's supposed to take spare water with them, but if she didn't, or if she lost it, and she's stuck somewhere, she may not have a lot of time. We already searched all the active parts of the mine, plus the tunnels we've worked out. Spent a whole shift on that, and I can already hear the Council typing up angry notes about the drop in output. There's no cave-ins, no flooding, and she's not asleep in a storeroom somewhere. But," she continues, taking a breath, "there's the old tunnels, all the mess the Termites dug out and whatever that leads to. We don't go down there, because -- well, because we're not idiots, basically. I took a look at the entrance to the upper part last night, didn't see anything, but I'm not sending my guys in there and losing a whole crew. Needs someone who can actually handle themselves." She smiles wanly. "That's you, I hope."
(Pteryx) Pteryx stares with curiosity, human!? Pure human!? Though he tries to catch himself from the moment. The skunk beast tries to get up on two legs, reaching out for mayhaps a handshake... Showing off 4 arms before he crashes back to all fours... "Dag nabbit... Howdy huma... I mean Elena, thanks fer them physical description on the missin, any er, unusual behavior frum em as of late too?" Lookin 'round the place, this... did not look too safe as a working condition, but them workers seemed to know what they're doin.... "Oh right, howdy, names' Pteryx and if we find yer missin, also a human? We can fix em up in too shakes of a lambs tail! Or at least get 'em stable enough fer sendin ta a hospital..."