exsiliumlogs | Mission: Bad Science Saves the Day

Mission: Bad Science Saves the Day

Date & Time: Mid-Day, 3310 | Present Day June 14th-16th
Location: Andersfeld, in the (far former) state of Alaska. (Also known at one time as Anchorage, Alaska.) | Back in Exsilium, those manning the Transport Pads, or working on developing the antibiotics and administering them to the ill throughout the city. Yet others will need to hop-scotch through time gathering sufficient supplies to save lives.
Characters: Volunteers to alter medical research, people working on antiobiotic cures, people distributing appropriate cures, and those who are doing minor missions into the past to retrieve adequate supplies to treat the sick in the present.
Summary: Transports are asked to help save tens of thousands of lives, first by traveling two years into the past and altering scientific research. Second, by helping with the manufacture and development of antibiotics or other cures, once the mission is complete. Third, by distributing the cure to the affected parties. Fourth, by going on pointed supply missions solo, or with up to two other people, in order to get enough supplies to save people in the present.

Whatever your character decides to do, the weight of saving lives is on their shoulders, unasked, and perhaps unwelcome. What will they do when faced with this decision?

Warnings: Illness. Freezing cold. Possible death. Drunken scientists.

In Andersfeld, the snow falls in thick, fat flakes, winds blowing in gusts up to 60 kph. Everyone is bundled up against the weather. Spirits are generally low, if not outright alcoholic. Safety lines and lights guide those brave enough to venture outdoors from building to building.

For the Transports with a six hour window to alter a future that will kill over a hundred thousand people in three weeks, it's a dangerous and necessary bravery.

In Exsilium, the success of the mission to Andersfeld is felt as soon as scientists notice the virus responding to antibiotic treatments. It becomes a race to finding the most effective means of combating the now bacterial infection, and of mass producing any working cure for distribution.

Some help with the production.

Others hurry to cart the supply out to the places hit most heavily. Yet others work directly with administering the antibiotics, in most cases, via an IV line. Those less heavily affected will be granted ridiculously large antibiotic pills, needing to be coaxed down spasming throats.

Those who need action, or who are no good with the sick, are asked to make countless small trips through time to secure the supplies needed to produce enough of the cure to save the tens of thousands who are ill but not yet deceased.

And for those too ill to assist, now is the time to rest, heal, and get better. In a world like this, one never knows what surprise might next lie in wait. The Transports and the Initiative have thwarted total disaster for now.

Mostly.

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::I'll keep us linked, then.:: Gambit was easy enough to draw into his mental 'network' - he'd known the other mutant long enough. Nikolas took a touch longer, but while he hadn't known the other soldier long, the 'shape' of his mind was a familiar one in general terms, and it wasn't hard. Now he wouldn't have to play intermediary, at least.

Though it looked suspiciously from the copious amount of snow and lack of distinct buildings that the timeslide had left them all a little off-target. He knew that the cold actually feeling like a relief probably meant nothing good, when it came to body temperature, but he could worry about it after the mission.

::Anyone need a signal flare for regrouping?::

It’s been a long time—the six months he’s been in Exsilium, more or less—since Remy’s had to worry about objects flying unsolicited at his head. So it’s a bit of a surprise with Codpiece lands, and then even more of surprise when he reaches up to grab for whatever’s on his head and finds it speaking to him.

There’s a moment’s worth of blinking and processing, then, before he actually does grab the squirrel and brings him down to eye-level.

“Not a problem—ah, homme.” Which is a strange to call a squirrel, but Remy can brush it off. He smiles, in a sideways sort of way.

Just guide me wit’ your head, Cable, he relays back to Nate, not slightly irritated. Then he looks back at the squirrel—the hazmat squirrel, okay—and asks, “I’m gonna meet up with some friends. You wantta come along?”

There's not much of a decision. Codpiece calms down the part of himself that wanted to squirm and fight his way out of this unfamiliar man's grasp, but unlike the youth back in the marketplace, this wasn't an intentional invasion of personal space.

He was squirrel enough to know he'd invaded space first, and it was at the grace of this human's leave that he wasn't being tossed on his head this very instant.

Hard as it is to see out of his hood, he looked over Remy's shoulder, eyeing the white of their landscape. Snow, he feared, might be something of a difficulty in this absurdity of a suit. At the very least, he remained armed, but with his paws so encased in fabric, he was uncertain of his grasp on his dirk.

"Your kindness is immeasurable, my lord. I would be honored to join you in your journey towards those that you call friend."

He did his best to hold on to Remy without appearing to feel as out of place as he did, with his paws far from any supportive surface. His pulled his dignity tight around himself and nodded once to Remy.

Knightly acceptance, he liked to think.

Nikolas took a moment to survey his surroundings--snow, snow, and more snow--and weighed his options. He wasn't terribly worried about the environment they'd just been dropped into, considering he'd spent the entirety of his childhood in Siberia, but he couldn't see anyone near-by, and he certainly was smart enough to know that wandering off with no direction would be a mistake in such an environment.

That would be helpful, I think.

Unless of course there was someone hostile out here somewhere, but he didn't think that was particularly likely at this juncture.

::Alright. Probably easier than trying to triangulate between us, Gambit.:: He'd have to dig deeper into the other mutant's mind to see where Gambit was in relation to him, and he wasn't sure he could trust his concentration well enough right now. Psi blasts were a little easier, and with this much snow, there wasn't much of a chance of it being spotted far off.

::Eyes out for the gold light.:: One TK blast, straight up into the snowfall. No real control, but that was just as well - summoning the energy had been enough effort.

Despite their grim circumstances, he can’t help but grin slightly at Codpiece’s reactions. Because, yes, the idea that there’s a small sentient squirrel in a hazmat suit on his shoulder at the moment should be ridiculous, but a little ridiculous is never amiss, in Remy’s opinion. He’s seen weirder things, dealt with weirder, and usually those things aren’t nearly so polite.

“Name’s Remy,” he says, in response. “No kinda lord, really.”

It’s then that he takes a moment to concentrate on what the others are saying, and begins to scan the skyline for Cable’s signal. The light’s bright enough to blind, or it should be, but amidst the pure white of their surroundings and the crystalline sky, it’s almost hard to spot. But Remy knows what he’s looking for, and sets off in that direction once he sees it.

I’ll be there in twenty, he thinks, for the others’ benefit. He’s good at navigating ice and snow, but going any faster would be suicidal.

He's utterly flummoxed on how he's meant to see anything at all in this weather. Having fallen onto this good man's head had been a saving grace indeed, and a mark of how necessary their success was in this leg of the quest.

"Perhaps not in title, Lord Remy, but it is certain you are in spirit. I myself am Sir Codpiece, Defender of the Nuts. It is an immense honour to meet you." Polite words that Codpiece truly meant, as much as any squirrel could mean anything. (He could mean rather much.) He held himself fast to his new companion, trying to determine through what wizardry he was hoping to navigate this storm to locate his friends.

Nothing for it but to wait and hold on.

Nikolas feels it as much as he sees it, out here in the cold with very little else to interfere with the signal, and he orientates himself accordingly. This is familiar territory for him, although the suit makes everything a bit more awkward.

Likewise.

He could move faster, of course, but it would burn through energy reserves he might not have any way of recharging out here. The ice and snow may be like home, but they work against his abilities as well. Thankfully, he has plenty of all too human training to fall back on.

::I'll just hunker down here and wait, then.:: His mental voice was tinged with a bit of sarcastic amusement. It was definitely below zero, but he'd survived colder. Then again, he wasn't sure if the fever was affecting his perception of how cold it actually was.

No matter. He had a little time, so he shoved some snow up in a vague approximation of a windbreak, and settled down with his back to it to wait for the others.

“Sir Codpiece, then,” Remy says, with a dip of his head. He purses his lips after the words, like he’s swallowing down a laugh or another comment. But he does manage to keep it together, to his credit. Normally he’d try to keep the conversation going, after that, but the cold gets inside his skin through the suit and chills him down to his spine. It’s a calm, but quiet, journey from there.

He makes better time than he thought he would, climbing across a snowbank to find Nate. He pauses, nods to Codpiece before giving Nate a blandly-delivered wave.

“This would be the friend I was tellin’ you about.”

"Hail!" Codpiece called out from Remy's shoulder, lifting one covered paw. It was difficult to get a good eye on this friend of the good Lord Remy. He was human, from what little Codpiece could tell, given these suits made distinguishing marks difficult to discern past blocky outlines and general heights.

He's fascinated by the apparent magic used to communicate his arrival with Remy. When had the big man told anyone Codpiece was coming? Magic, indeed!

"I trust my presence will not be considered a burden past that which Lord Remy has taken upon his broad shoulders, my lord." Literally speaking.

Nikolas did his best not to look confused when he walked up to that particular tableaux. Was that a squirrel? The hazmat suite made it hard to tell. It might have been some other sort of small, furry mammal. The Initiative, it seemed, truly did not discriminate.

"Here you are," he said, instead of commenting on the strangeness of the scene. "I do not suppose someone has a map?" They weren't going to do well accomplishing the mission objective floundering around in the cold, after all.

Was that... a squirrel? In a tiny hazmat suit. On Remy's shoulder. Talking. The only reason Nate was fairly sure he wasn't hallucinating the whole thing was that Remy was talking back to it, and that seemed a little more detailed. That, and he could sense a mind there, which he drew into their little mental network.

"'Lord'? When did you get the upgrade there, Gambit?"

He gave Nikolas a glance, his tone a little more serious than he'd been with Remy. "Pretty much all the other presences in the area are centered in, or heading towards, one spot. Wouldn't be too far normally, but in this weather it'll probably take us longer."

“Oh I’ve always been one. Jus’ didn’t want ta intimidate you.” Which is a laughable thought in and of itself, but then again the whole situation is ridiculous. So Gambit proceeds to nod at Nikolas, acknowledging him, before stepping in further so that they’re more shielded from the wind and cold.

“It’s prob’ly best we get this over with as soon as we can, no?”

"Indeed," said the very much a squirrel clinging fast to Remy's shoulder. "Pardon my breach in proper manners, my lords, but I fear Lord Remy has the right of it. Speed is of the utmost importance!"

In no small part because he did not feel the need to freeze his tail off in such unsuitably (ha-ha) cold weather.

Having never encountered a telepathic network, only the odd telepathic creature or two, his inclusion warrants little other than the stray thought that such a landscape would be terribly difficult to behold in bright sunlight.

Also not terribly friendly to nuts or any decent deciduous tree.

"I think the weather is rather nice," he replied. Joking, mostly, though he really didn't have much aversion to it. All the snow would slow them down, though.

And that definitely was a talking squirrel. Well then. He had seen stranger things, but not much stranger, he had to admit.

He nodded slightly to Nate. "Point us in the right direction, then." If there were any significant power source out there, it must have been well-shielded. He couldn't really feel it enough to get a sense of direction. Better to trust the telepath, in this case.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Nate replied, his tone a mixture of amusement and sarcasm. "We're maybe, mm, ten or fifteen minutes walking to where the people are, but that's not counting snow - and I can't exactly see if there are any obstacles in the way. But we can probably handle those when we come to them." Certainly with Nikolas and Remy both here they had enough firepower to get through anything short of a bunker. And he wouldn't put money on the bunker.

He could feel another bout of coughs threatening to make themselves known, so he switched to back to telepathy. ::I'll take point, I suppose - rest of you won't have to worry about plowing through the snow, anyway.:: He concentrated for a moment, confirming their trajectory, and then started slogging.

“Well, I grew up in a swamp, an’ would prefer ta get outta the cold as soon as possible,” Remy mutters tightly, glancing at Nikolas and rolling his eyes. He shifts from one foot to the other, glances around as the plan’s being made and then nods his agreement. Theoretically, he could blow through the snow in front of them easily enough. But cold doesn’t lend itself well to creating energy, and energy is what he works with. So he could do it… but it’d be slightly more complicated. So instead he follows suit (haha) after Nate, leaving Nikolas to bring up the rear.

Codpiece doesn't even state his own disatissfaction, because it was surely in poor form. As a native to warm forests during summer, and chill in the winter, only less so due to the tendency of a phoenix to roost in the orchards and for magic spillover to keep the lands immediately around the Wizard Ralph's castle in unseasonably warm condition even in deep winter, Codpiece found little more than cold barren hopelessness in this much snow.

It rather drove him to a desire to nap, were he being honest. Clinging to Remy's shoulder, he says nothing of his thoughts -- but his thoughts speak enough for themselves. For the most part, those thoughts avoided words, a collection of images and associations that ran constantly through his head.

Busy little fellow, indeed.

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Mission: Bad Science Saves the Day

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i'm officially the worst, i'm sorry everyone