Event Log: Deserted

[hadrielmods]

What: The log for the Deserted event
Where: Throughout the city
When: August 21st-30th
Warnings: The Deserted event

It happens in a heartbeat. One moment, everything is fine- there's plenty of food in the stores, electricity in the houses, and friends to spend your time with... and the next, it's gone. Your friends, the supply of food in the stores, and most notably, the network. The god temples are all empty, devoid of that patron emotion when you walk through the door. Everything is cut off, like it was never there to begin with. You're alone.

Well, not... alone. There are a few others with you, even if you might not know them all that well. What will the four of you do to survive around here? There's still deadly animals, scarce supplies, and cold, frigid nights to spend. There's no telling how long it will last- all you can do is bunker down and hope for the best.

But your friends, and the gods... they will come back, won't they?

► This log covers August 21st-30th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

Drake Holloway | Team H

[braveoff]

west island: spire 4 --> Hope's temple

[ Drake wakes up to his phone alarm, set a little earlier than usual today because he needs to swing by Hope's temple to pick up brains before setting out for patrol. There's enough light coming in the windows that he doesn't think to try and turn any in the apartment on, just pads groggily to the kitchen to make some coffee... and no water comes from the kitchen sink. Further investigation reveals that the power's out, too, and it's about now that Drake decides to check his phone to see if anyone else is awake and has commented on this. Maybe someone knows what happened.

...shit.

The network is down. Not just posting but completely, he can't even bring up a contacts list. And now Drake is 100% awake and 110% concerned. As calmly as he can, he takes an emergency bottle of water from the cupboard and goes to brush his teeth and get dressed, grabbing all of his weapons just in case. The view out the window as he gets ready is quiet, pretty normal for this hour but he's still worried.

His spire is silent, despite Drake knocking on every door on his way down. No one answers, and it's extremely that no one at all, not a single person, is home. Outside, the quiet city strikes him as too quiet, even this early. Drake beelines for Hope's temple, mentally crossing everything that what he needs to be there is, in fact, waiting.

...nope. No such luck. And the god's presence is also noticeably absent, which causes the pit of Drake's stomach to drop out. He's in deep shit now. At least it would seem no one else is around to become a victim. Is this another little trick? Fear screwing with them again? It seems like an awful lot of work, to erase all other inhabitants, but it's the only explanation.

Stay calm, self. Deep breaths. Be certain that you're alone, sweep the whole city to be absolutely sure there's no one for you to hurt, then come up with a plan. You've ridden this out before, you can do it again, even on your own. ]

north island: shoreline --> guard HQ

[ West island had been completely empty. Not a single soul on it, and Drake really can't decide at this point if that's good or bad for his situation. Maybe by the time he's done with the whole city, he'll have a better idea. So it's off to the next island, which he's decided is gonna be north, so he can swing by the Guard HQ first. He rows over easily enough, though knows he'll be tired by the fourth trip, and drags the boat up onto the shore.

Drake's not usually one to patrol with weapons actually in hand, but doesn't know what to expect right now so. Axe out, it is, and his pistol's holster is unclipped in case he needs to grab for that quickly. Ephemera's rifle is strapped to his back as well, and crossing his torso in the opposite direction of that strap is his blue guard sash. He's extremely noticeable, though not drawing attention to himself otherwise, just in case. Not until he's inside HQ, anyway, when he does call out. ]

Anybody home? Henry? Nick? Bueller?

Guard HQ

[vocarrah]

[It hadn't taken Ianchus too long to figure out something was off, though it had certainly taken longer to really pinpoint what was off. As someone who liked having people around, who was always attuned to their presence, he had realized pretty quickly that there wasn't anyone in the clinic. And when that emptiness had stretched out throughout the day, he'd stood to investigate.

It had only been later that he'd realized the network was down. That hadn't concerned him at first, but now it seemed like yet another symptom of something more insidious.

His next thought was that, perhaps, the Guard headquarters would yield something. He couldn't just sit here all day, after all. His ribs were mending, and besides--he was used to pushing through injuries. So he'd gotten dressed, had found a boat, and had set out on it. Good thing he was comfortable on the ocean, even for short distances.

Nothing. Nobody. His heart starts to pound faster and he has to take a moment--ah, damn him, he didn't bring water with him, fool that he is.

But then, coming up to the Guard HQ, he hears a thin sound--no, it can't be his imagination.

He hurries, breaks into as much of a run as he can without sending spikes of pain through his chest, and--]

Hello?! Is that someone out there?

hey new buddy new pal

[braveoff]

[ To Drake's immense surprise, someone actually answers him. He hears footsteps pounding towards him and then a man appears, notably not wearing a guard sash as well, and looking a bit frantic and pained.

Well shit. Is this good or bad, now? ]

Yeah. You're the first one I've come across so far... name's Drake.

[ He shoves his axe through the loop on his belt and steps forward to meet the stranger, extending a hand to shake. If there's one person, there must be others left behind too. Whatever the hell happened, whatever's going on, it can't be just the two of them. But it is possible he's the only Guard member around and this guy must've come to HQ for help, so he'll represent until he can't keep hold of his humanity any longer. ]

Are you alright?

[fingerguns]

[vocarrah]

Drake. Ianchus Cepheos.

[He takes the hand, shaking it with both of his, colour and relief draining back into his face]

I'm fine, I just got a bit...overexcited. I'm glad to see someone. I seem to have...mm, lost most everyone else. [He laughs a little, and steps back, running both hands through his hair. Despite his attitude though, he doesn't miss a lot. His eyes glance down at the weapon Drake just put away.]

The axe...?

[braveoff]

Ianchus. I've seen you around.

[ He's seen pretty much everyone around, honestly, with how much he patrols. But it actually is relevant right now, because it means he believes the other man is real, not a further god trick. Now it's the two of them, abandoned. And one of them perhaps injured?

The phrasing doesn't escape Drake's notice, either. "Lost" everyone else. Like he's somehow responsible for keeping track of the whole city. ]

That's an interesting way to put it. And uh... just being prepared, honestly. I woke up and everyone was gone, including the gods. Didn't know what I'd find if I kept flipping rocks, y'know? But there's no sign of fighting on west island, at least. It's like the whole city just disappeared.

[ Drake shakes his head a little, trying not to dwell on what that means. Especially that the gods are gone, and with them their resources. He really is in deep shit even if this is a trick, but his poker face doesn't falter as he addresses Ianchus again. ]

Except us. So maybe there are other stragglers. Are you hurt enough you should stay here, or should we be the world's smallest search party?

[vocarrah]

I'll come with.

[Ianchus says it almost too sharply, and then catches a hold of himself, fixing his expression back into a somewhat apologetic smile. Still, being left alone is...not something he even wants to think about.]

I've had plenty of time to lie in a bed. I'll be fine. And I'm an old hat at exploration. [He gives him what he hopes is a confident expression, and then looks around.]

Perhaps I should get a weapon as well. And, ah, some water?

[braveoff]

[ Hmm. Okay. Dude's a grown adult, he can judge his own well being. Drake nods in agreement, pulling his water bottle out for Ianchus. ]

I've got a stash back on west island, but there are some supplies here, too. Give me a minute and we can hit the armory before sweeping this island.

[ He vanishes into the training area, which doesn't hold usable weapons but does have a stock of food and water for those heading out on shift. Drake loads up a bag and takes a moment to shuffle the items he's now carrying (he's really not used to being so stocked and armed like this but can't be too careful) so he can still access the rifle if things unexpectedly go to shit, then heads back to his new friend. ]

Armory's this way. But I'd like you to promise to hang back if something pops out at us that I can handle alone -- don't risk getting hurt worse. What's wrong, anyway?

[ He's back in patrol mindset as soon as they step outside, eyes scanning for any movement, be it Hadrielite or monster. There's nothing between them and the armory, though, Ianchus can choose a weapon in peace. ]

[vocarrah]

I should have taken my sword from the Clinic. I didn't think.

[Evidenced by his clothes and how greedily he had taken and gulped down Drake's water; when he'd first stepped out, he'd merely thought that he was going to take a casual look around, but then he'd gone farther and farther in determination to find someone. Before he knew it, he'd been at the water's edge, and, well. He could only move ahead, right?]

Ah, my ribs? I got careless and fell off a cliff.

[The half-truth comes to him so easily now that he doesn't even blink as he says it; if Drake wants to follow up he's welcome to, but it's his energy that's going to be wasted.

He eyes the weapons, and then he picks up a machete, giving it a quick swing. Not as versatile nor as powerful as his own weapon, but solid. He gives Drake a look, as if to show his satisfaction with his choice.]

night 5; ota to H

[braveoff]

[ Okay. It's official. Drake is hungry and it's a problem. He told Nick privately, as soon as they'd found the other man, that this was going to become a problem quickly but. This is quicker than he'd hoped for. The Null invasion was kind of a blur, honestly... he'd been able to scavenge bodies at the start, and then had just chained himself up and wasn't entirely certain how long it took until he started losing control. Ephemera and Lup would know for sure, they were there practically the whole time, keeping track, but. They're not here now. He and Nick had guessed it would take a week, and hopefully things would be back to normal by then if this was a trick.

Except it's only five days without brains, and Drake is starting to feel like he's losing his grip a little. Nothing serious, nothing dangerous, but his companions are starting to smell an awful lot like food and even though he's eating meals with them, putting something in his body, the hunger never fades. There's always that gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn't think it's safe to wait out the week at this point.

Problem is.... how to tell the humans? The people he'd promised to keep safe. Ianchus is injured and Whistler is blind, and he worries that if he and Nick keep this a secret, when they wander off and only the synth returns the others will assume the worst.

He's sitting at the fire they've built to cook tonight, his poker face slipping for the first time. Instead of calm and amicable, he looks obviously troubled by something, eyes dark as he glances at his companions. Whistler will just notice that he's oddly quiet -- the previous nights he'd offered poker or drinking games or just to talk if someone else seemed lonely, but tonight... nothing. He just stares into the fire, a weight on his shoulders.

Anyone feel like chatting? ]

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus has been grateful that he's had someone to help keep spirits up. He's as laid-back and cheery as ever, even though the strain of the situation is showing itself in circles under his eyes and the slimming of his cheeks. They'd taken a pretty quick pace in their travels, trying to find someone--anyone--and while they'd found Nick (fascinating man that he is), there was no one else.

And while the missing people are gone from the island, they're ever-present at his mind, pushing at him.

Still, he tries to be in the present. And in the present, he can't help but notice that his companion in cheeriness is a little...off.]

You look like you could use something nice.

[He settles next to Drake on the log, dangling a half-filled bottle of whiskey that he made off from the Speakeasy with in front of his face.]

[braveoff]

[ Drake hears the shuffling steps before Ianchus moves into his line of sight, and he glances up at the offer hoping that for once it's just that. A passing of the bottle, which he really can't afford to partake of at the moment. His control is already on a razor's edge. And of course, because Ianchus seems to genuinely be a friendly guy himself, it's not just a bottle.

The other man sits close, too close, leans in and dangles the whiskey in front of Drake with the best of intentions and actual worst execution. Drake bites back something that sounds like a snarl, going still and tense, his fingers digging into his own legs with brutal strength. The pain of it is terribly faint, and beneath the soft growl Ianchus can actually hear Drake's stomach making an angry sound of its own. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but for a few moments there, he looks deathly pale.

Strange. He doesn't unclench his grip to push the bottle away, just shakes his head hard and takes slow careful breaths. Friend not food. Friend not food. You're a person, you can control this, pull it the fuck together. ]

Not tonight, bud.

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus withdraws the bottle smoothly, but purposefully. He never thinks much of his status as a royal, but his training as a prince has certainly taught him a few inherent things--including an incredible sense of poise and movement.

He sets the bottle aside and then leans in, studying Drake's face, now serious. Something is certainly wrong, but he hadn't expected Drake to be one to keep secrets so aggressively. Ah, humans are complex, of course, and hard to always predict, but he thinks he has a pretty accurate first impression.]

What is it. If you're sick, you should tell us.

[He keeps his voice soft, more for Drake's benefit than for any secrecy, gently laying his fingertips on his knee.]

[braveoff]

[ Oh. That's. The seemingly logical thing to do right now would be to tell Ianchus to move away, but in reality... it doesn't matter if he does back off. The starving zombie could already smell him from across the fire and arm's length won't save him if Drake loses hold of himself. Besides, part of him... doesn't want to let go of this. Once he comes clean, it's highly unlikely Ianchus will get this close again. Right? The contact doesn't make it worse, so Drake lets himself draw a little comfort from it, his own fingers unclenching just a little.

He keeps his eyes on Ianchus' hand as he composes himself and finally just sighs, reluctant and frustrated that it's come to this. Since he's still pretty convinced it's a trick, and thus the danger element here doesn't need to be happening but is still very real. He supposes it wouldn't scare him otherwise though. And Fear's been willing to burden Hope with resurrections for his own benefit before. Why the fuck not?

Right. Confessions. Back on track. He's having a hard time keeping focused in general right now. Drake keeps his voice low as well, though he's aware Whistler can probably hear despite the distance and the fire. Remaining senses adapt, after all. ]

I am, actually. Sick. Nick knows, it's something Hope manages... we were hoping it wouldn't be a problem so quickly.

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus frowns and looks Drake up and down, but he doesn't move his hand. He does seem paler, and Ianchus knows that agonized focus all too well, but...sick hadn't been the first thing he'd thought of when he'd met Drake for the first time.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle, though there's a hint of sternness there. Ianchus isn't one to admonish, but he's traveled with enough groups where hiding something like this could turn into a big problem fast. As, it seems, it is here.]

You should have mentioned it. We could have slowed down, or... helped you.

[Really. They'd been managing with a blind man and an injury.]

What do you need?

[synthedick]

[From the moment they came together as a group, Nick has been trying to take stock of each man, to figure out the best way they can look out for one another until all this passes... if it passes. He knows in his gut that it's one of the gods behind this -- probably Fear or Confusion if he had to place bets -- but there's always that concern at the back of his mind that this is the new 'normal,' how things are going to be for as long as they survive. He doesn't doubt he'd be the last man standing. Not really something he'd look forward to.

So he tries to keep an eye on his companions and their needs. He familiar with Whistler and his handicap; he hasn't spoken much to Ianchus, the only one of the crew he hadn't met before. And as for Drake... he has his own problems, issues which are becoming more an more pressing as time goes on. Having dealt with them before, Nick is aware of his dietary needs; the rest, however, are likely not.

Yet. Nick waits for an opening once Ianchus is done talking to Drake to meander over himself, trying to catch him alone.]

You all right?

[He presents the question knowing what the answer is, but it's worth asking.]

[braveoff]

[ Drake glances up at Nick, appreciating the fact he's phrasing it as a question but knowing full well that it's just manners. His condition is obvious... at least Nick doesn't set him off worse, doesn't register as food.

He pats the spot next to him, looking drawn and tired. ]

I think it's time. Ianchus isn't really up for it, though... took it way better than I'd thought overall, but doesn't want to just leave me somewhere.

[synthedick]

Can you blame him?

[Nick doesn't really want to leave Drake anywhere either, but he knows that sometimes, you have to do what you have to do, no matter how unpleasant. This is one of those cases where if they don't tread carefully, someone is liable to end up dead.

He eases into the spot next to Drake, flexing his metal fingers -- the rust has made some of them stiffer than he'd like.]

Guess you weren't going to be able to hide your secret from the two of them for much longer, given the circumstances.

[braveoff]

No, on both counts. He seems like a good guy but even if he wasn't, I knew on day one I wouldn't have a choice. It's too big a risk not to. If I just disappeared, they'd look. And worse, if the two of us wandered off and only you came back...?

[ Risking Nick's safety is completely unacceptable. Bad enough he's been keeping Drake's secret all this time, and will have to continue to do so. ]

He says he won't tell anyone, whenever things go back to normal. I think I got it across that enough people would just kill me that he means it, too. But I'll have to convince Whistler.

[ Drake watches Nick flex his fingers, frowning slightly at the corrosion before reaching out, offering his own hand. Can he get a closer look? ]

You know I've only ever told one person willingly? After all the time and everybody who knows.

[synthedick]

[Drake doesn't have to finish that question for Nick to know what he's getting at. It'd look suspicious enough to him if he weren't in the know, and he doesn't doubt Ianchus would feel the same. Even with Whistler, they could only get away with it for so long before he started asking questions regarding Drake's whereabouts.

He offers Drake his hand, turning it over for the other man to see. Though the creature wasn't against him long, the damage is extensive, patches of rust reaching through his fingers and across the plating that makes up his wrist, spreading behind his sleeve and into his arm. The corrosion seems to have stopped halfway up his forearm, but that far more than he ever hoped to see on those parts in Hadriel. With no other synths around to scavenge parts from, he's stuck with what he's got unless the gods fabricate some more. Individual pieces aren't so bad, but if he ever has to ask for an entirely new limb, he's pretty sure it'll run on the same hocus pocus that the mopeds do.

And that's something he's not comfortable with at all.]

The trick is keeping only the right people in the know, since not everyone around here would be willing to give you a chance. It's not easy being judged like that, told you're dangerous just because of what you are.

[He would know.]

Night 4--->Nick

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus is not someone who avoids people, usually. And that's what he's been struggling with--because he's not acting like he should be.

Ah, maybe it's the stress of it all, making him more susceptible to judge by appearances. All that had happened before. Death. Near-death. The fight with Yusuke. Being forced to abstain from the expedition. The disappearances. At least he's not alone! But, ah...

Is it the way he moves? Is it the way Ianchus can see bits of him moving inside those cracks? Ah, it's fascinating, it's fascinating, but what is this trepidation?

Not that Ianchus had been avoiding him purposely. He'd never do that (not even with man-eating demonesses, it seems). He'd simply stuck close to Drake, and not actively made conversation with Nick. Unfair, unfair!

But if there's one thing Ianchus is good at, it's goading himself out of comfort zones. Most comfort zones. And so, with the vodka they took from the Speakeasy, he walks over to where Nick is by the fire, sitting down next to him. Alcohol, such an excellent tool.]

Hello. Do you mind if I join you?

[synthedick]

[Nick glances Ianchus' way as the other man takes a seat next to him. He wasn't avoiding Ianchus either -- he's just had a lot on his mind, as always, at let himself get lost in his own thoughts. He greets him with a nod, his yellow eyes glowing only slightly more vibrantly than the fire before them; much like the flame, they are beacons in the dark, drawing attention toward them.]

Looks like you already have.

[Not that Nick really minds, but he can't help but point that out, given how Ianchus already took a seat.]

How are you holding up?

[vocarrah]

[Ah, so he has. Ianchus laughs a little, running his fingers through his hair. Is it bluntness or a sense of humor? He can't quite tell.]

As well as can be under the circumstances. Our little stop at the Speakeasy certainly helped morale.

[Despite his words, he hasn't actually been drinking much--only enough to help himself get to sleep sometimes. He knows he should be keeping his wits about him.]

I thought I hit this back! Sorry!

[synthedick]

[Nick has to admit that he's glad to see Ianchus in a better mood than when they'd met. It doesn't take a detective to figure out that he's a social butterfly, the sort who doesn't take solitude well.]

I'll be sure to tell Rey you enjoyed the drinks. [He figures she won't mind them taking a bottle or two, given the circumstances.] She makes all that stuff herself, you know.

That's okay!! I'm kind of slow myself

[vocarrah]

She works so hard. I really wish there was something we could do for her in return--ah.

[He seems to remember their predicament, then a frown creasing his forehead.]

...I'm sure we'll see her again, won't we.

[synthedick]

Here's hoping.

[Nick lets out a sigh, his eyes before him, a frown tugging at his features.]

The important thing right now is to keep each other afloat until then, so if you need anything, you just ask, all right?