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exsiliumlogs2012-06-23 09:18 am
initiatesnpc) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-06-23 09:18 am
TEMPORAL TURBULENCE: HAWAII&THEUNKNOWN
Date & Time: 4.9 million years past/68 million years past
Location: Assorted
Characters: Artika, Equius, Jack, Loki, Mystique, Orihime
Summary: Group #3's adventures spent lost in time.
Warnings: Violence? (notify Elle or Liz of anything else worthy of labeling)
The mission was set. Team members were given their equipment: The cloaking devices would acclimate to the area and disguise them based on the historical data pulled in. There was a weapons check: The Initiative was insistent about having those chosen weapons along for the ride. Four operatives were introduced as beacons: They would stay in contact with the Initiative and relay any alterations in plans until the mission was deemed a success. And it had to be a success, or disaster would be the only thing left.
1890 A.D.
There was a man, not very well-known as far as famous men go. A writer. His existence alone was not the significant factor in the timeline's disturbance, but his profession and his choice to tell a particular, peculiar story.
This man, the Initiative states, helped sow the seeds for modern time travel centuries before its prime. What was a captivating fiction in that man's time was the reality of today, and without his account of the Time Traveler, there was risk of the very existence of so much. The recruits absolutely have a stake in this.
To the export room — the massive, rather bare and bleak place where so many were to exit and put a stop to what was putting a stop to the writer's tale. It was as yet unclear, but the Initiative is certain they'll know it when they see it, that it will be revealed once their reluctant soldiers set foot on ancient soil.
One last check, one last insistence on the urgency of their task. One, final urging to avoid as direct an impact as possible without ruining their chances; keep your temporal footprint as light as you can.
Good luck. We're counting on you.
A flash, a bitten-back breath, a blink...The room was gone.
But this wasn't right.
Out of the many who were assigned, only six remained. Six, and an Initiative's operative, who was immediately aware of a problem. A big problem.
HAWAII, 4.9 MILLION YEARS AGO
Something had gone horribly wrong. England was never so hot, never so close to the sun...And there were no written records of England ever having to deal with active volcanoes.
Yet there they were. And there the party was, amid the chaos of an ancient planet still flexing its muscles. Growing pains. Emphasis on pain, should there be a stagger or stumble in the wrong direction.
The operative's instruments read Hawaii, but this was no Hawaii famed for scenic vacations or exotic appeal. There were no people to speak of, in fact. Only the thick, steam-choked jungle nestled on the island still expanding, creeping bit by bit with each volcano-exhale.
Five minutes in, and the Initiative operative's reader was still trying to calculate how far back they'd landed. Not a good sign.
LOCATION UNKNOWN, 68 MILLION YEARS AGO
Instead of traveling ahead, a hiccup in the process sent the six back. Way back.
Any hope of leaving the jungle behind would be lost, as once again the party lands amid endless green and a choking humidity. Similar, yes, but still different: These trees have a different shape and scale, and ferns litter the area freely.
The rumbling felt in one's toes was not from any volcano, however. It was something living in a different sense, moving for a different cause.
As the two-way with Exsilium in the future statics to the indecipherable, a wild and foreign roar can be heard.
Location: Assorted
Characters: Artika, Equius, Jack, Loki, Mystique, Orihime
Summary: Group #3's adventures spent lost in time.
Warnings: Violence? (notify Elle or Liz of anything else worthy of labeling)
The mission was set. Team members were given their equipment: The cloaking devices would acclimate to the area and disguise them based on the historical data pulled in. There was a weapons check: The Initiative was insistent about having those chosen weapons along for the ride. Four operatives were introduced as beacons: They would stay in contact with the Initiative and relay any alterations in plans until the mission was deemed a success. And it had to be a success, or disaster would be the only thing left.
1890 A.D.
There was a man, not very well-known as far as famous men go. A writer. His existence alone was not the significant factor in the timeline's disturbance, but his profession and his choice to tell a particular, peculiar story.
This man, the Initiative states, helped sow the seeds for modern time travel centuries before its prime. What was a captivating fiction in that man's time was the reality of today, and without his account of the Time Traveler, there was risk of the very existence of so much. The recruits absolutely have a stake in this.
To the export room — the massive, rather bare and bleak place where so many were to exit and put a stop to what was putting a stop to the writer's tale. It was as yet unclear, but the Initiative is certain they'll know it when they see it, that it will be revealed once their reluctant soldiers set foot on ancient soil.
One last check, one last insistence on the urgency of their task. One, final urging to avoid as direct an impact as possible without ruining their chances; keep your temporal footprint as light as you can.
Good luck. We're counting on you.
A flash, a bitten-back breath, a blink...The room was gone.
But this wasn't right.
Out of the many who were assigned, only six remained. Six, and an Initiative's operative, who was immediately aware of a problem. A big problem.
Something had gone horribly wrong. England was never so hot, never so close to the sun...And there were no written records of England ever having to deal with active volcanoes.
Yet there they were. And there the party was, amid the chaos of an ancient planet still flexing its muscles. Growing pains. Emphasis on pain, should there be a stagger or stumble in the wrong direction.
The operative's instruments read Hawaii, but this was no Hawaii famed for scenic vacations or exotic appeal. There were no people to speak of, in fact. Only the thick, steam-choked jungle nestled on the island still expanding, creeping bit by bit with each volcano-exhale.
Five minutes in, and the Initiative operative's reader was still trying to calculate how far back they'd landed. Not a good sign.
Instead of traveling ahead, a hiccup in the process sent the six back. Way back.
Any hope of leaving the jungle behind would be lost, as once again the party lands amid endless green and a choking humidity. Similar, yes, but still different: These trees have a different shape and scale, and ferns litter the area freely.
The rumbling felt in one's toes was not from any volcano, however. It was something living in a different sense, moving for a different cause.
As the two-way with Exsilium in the future statics to the indecipherable, a wild and foreign roar can be heard.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Yes- I suppose you are right...
no subject
[They should start making demands when they get back, though, she thinks. They'll have earned it if their missions go through as they were supposedly 'planned' to.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[Instead of answering he's going to start to run hands through his hair, tugging out snarls and thinking about plans after this. Most likely food, of some sort.]