Operation: Roll Out

[initiates]

Date & Time: January 31st - February 4th, Present Day Exsilium Time
Location: Neo Las Vegas, in what formerly was called Turkey.
Characters: All Transports!
Summary: Transports have been sent to Neo Las Vegas to gather information on the origin point of the United Earth and the UE AI. Conference sabotage and the rest is expected and invited!
Warnings: Gambling and alcoholic beverages quite likely! Please PM the mod account for anything else.

By day, the landscape isn't desert, precisely, so much as it is dry. Winter's settled in and found in the biting chill of the wind when it finds you standing on the street. Hovercars and taxis thrum down the cobblestone streets, cavorting and honking like a noisy crowd of inelegant, overweight geese. Men walk by on stilts half in make-up, on their way back to their stage for the next night. Walks of shame are taken proudly in this district, one of the few approved and sanctioned vacation zones in the United Earth.

Evidence of law enforcement can be found all around, but they seem altogether too pleased to be there too. Talk with any one of them about crime rates, and they're liable to laugh at the idea. Those who come to gamble know the house is rigged to win. It's not about making or breaking the bank -- people whose funds dip too low are politely escorted back to their rooms and given a set of normal playing cards -- but it is about enjoyment.

Of the flesh too, and it'd be difficult to find anyone working in Neo Las Vegas who suffers from modesty, or anyone visiting who seems unwilling to politely ask visitors and staff if they'd like to keep them company for the night. In fact, Transports may find themselves needing to turn down multiple such requests! The refusal is always taken well. These are people looking to have a good time, and that's all.

No chance taken, nothing gained, right?

At night, the city really comes alive, the lights in all the hotels and casinos turning the Neo Las Vegas Strip into a carnival of sensation. Drinks and recreational drugs are freely passed around, men and women engage in a variety of sexual and other hedonistic excesses without regret, and the beautiful interiors and ostentatious or playful exteriors of the buildings hide and reveal a rich tapestry of events, delectables, and desires waiting to be fulfilled.

Neo Las Vegas is a fun place, and it is a safe place, and it is Where the Conferences For Our Future Are Made. Playtime is on, gang.

Comments

[unmasking]

Ah, yeah, that weird condition of no snow. Sudden drunken sadness.

[He doesn't want to poke him too much about it, but he doesn't look okay.]

Unless that came before. Maybe you decided to leave early. What do I know? [Leading questions. Swinging around as Spider-Man, he's seen enough guys like this. They're usually harmless.]

[mallarkey]

[ Doug goes quiet, letting his hands disappear into his pockets and then exhaling slowly. He admits: ]

Not that sudden. [ It's especially easy to feel guilty about lying when he's drunk and when Dahlia has come and gone, because what exactly is he doing this for now? ] But when there's no snow you notice it more when you don't have to worry about freezing to death. I'll be okay. I am okay. You don't have to worry.

[unmasking]

I'm an earnest kid here, Doug. [Which is his way of going: I don't buy it. He really doesn't buy it. There is still the fact that Peter's seen guys like him wandering out of bars, and he didn't even see them experiencing insomnia before.]

What's going on with you?

[mallarkey]

[ He exhales again. Peter, he decides, is perhaps a little too smart. Not that Doug is in a position to find much fault with that; Peter reminds him of his son Sammy that way. Doug doesn't know how to feel when his deception doesn't work. (Even if it's drunk deception.) ]

It's nothing. Really. Nothing important. Just been thinkin' about some things. [ He glances at Peter, trying to gauge how convincing he sounds. ] Longer we're here, the more obvious how easy it is to start becoming a different person. Know what I mean?

[unmasking]

[There's a long pause after he considers Doug's words. They haven't been there that long, the two of them, but Peter knows exactly what he's saying. He knows because he's been debating giving up the tights because that's not the kind of hero that this world needs. He's already even taken strides to that.

He looks away, because some part of him wants to write these words off as Doug just having too much to drink, but it hits close to home.]

Yeah, trust me, I know exactly what you're saying. Too well. Funny how it happens so fast.

[mallarkey]

I think... I think that--

[ His voice is a little wavery, but that might be the alcohol's influence. He gets more sentimental when he drinks, more honest, which Doug doesn't necessarily consider a good thing. ]

... Once you're in the habit it's becomes hard to stop. If you can even know who you really were to begin with. Or which you was better off.

[unmasking]

["Or which you was better off." If Peter hadn't completely written that off as drunken rambling off the bat, he might've related that to being a superhero. Of course, Peter knows that from his personal experiences. He know what it's like to have that be difficult to stop.

He considers Doug's face and then raises a hand to his arm.]

Yeah, but you know who you are. [It's meant to be comforting.] You're just drunk you now.

[mallarkey]

I don't know. I can't tell anymore. Y'know, you-- do you ever wonder if this is the life you're supposed to be living?

[ He frowns, staring forward with his eyes squinted a little blearily. He's absurdly tempted to come out with the truth right there, because what does he have to lose? Dahlia's already gone. ]

Not this life... not here. I mean normally. Maybe you never stop feeling like a fraud.

[unmasking]

[Living. The emphasis on that word makes Peter stiffen because he doesn't know what to say to that. What does he say to that. Being a fraud. Maybe you never stop feeling like a fraud.]

... Do you know something about me, Doug? [It's spoken hesitantly.]

[mallarkey]

About--

[ That surprises him enough that his expression takes on a clarity that's almost sober. He's rendered speechless for a couple of moments as his brain tries to catch up. ]

No, not-- not particularly. Nothing you haven't told me. I was-- you're right, I am just drunk. Thinking out loud, probably not even making any sense.

[ He gestures with his hand to emphasize that he was just rambling, clearly. ]

Sorry.

[unmasking]

I haven't been entirely honest with you. [It seems prudent to explain what he means, even if his lack of honesty wasn't malicious. Peter's inclination here is to keep lying, which is exactly why he's not doing it.] Which is why I thought you said that. Some other people figured it out, so ... [He shrugs carefully.]

Why don't we get you home? I'll swing out and grab you some ... what do people have when they're drunk? Bread, right? I'll grab you some of that.

[mallarkey]

I haven't-- me either.

[ The admission comes with a slight slump of his shoulders, mildly guilty in so much as Doug does feel guilt for lying to people he likes (about a 6 on a 1-10 scale) and mildly relieved in the way inebriated confessions often can be. ]

I've barely told the truth since I've been here. Maybe... [ He opens his hand and stares at the palm, like he's attempting to count each instance on his finger. ] Didn't even really need to, but I still couldn't stop myself.

[ He looks at Peter. ]

So what's a kid like you got to lie about?

[unmasking]

[Instead of responding to him, instead of giving him a straight answer, Peter's fingers grab on to the sleeve of Doug's jacket to start pulling him in the direction of the hotel where everyone is staying. There's something about the tug that makes it clear that Peter is much stronger than he lets on.]

We're not talking about this out here. [That's the only information he supplies. If they're going to have this moment, if they're going to be honest with one another, it's going to be in private, and Doug's going to at least be a tiny bit more sober. Peter hopes he hasn't drank all of his complimentary bottles of water.]

[mallarkey]

[ Doug stumbles after, veering sharply in the direction he's yanked but following easily enough. He's able to notice how easily Peter is able to do it, too; not just guiding, it's a pull that shouldn't necessarily be able to drag along a man Doug's size quite that easily. He just manages: ]

--'Kay.

[ Until they get closer, and the lights of the hotel begin to sting Doug's eyes. He blinks several times, trying to adjust and to regain more of his senses. Not fully sober, but the air and the walk have done some of the work for him. He rubs a hand over his eyes as well in assistance. ]

Never... never feels right after you actually get to sort of like a person, but then you... [ Another set of heavy blinks. ] I just need some water on my face.

[unmasking]

We're almost there.

[There's no need to respond to the heavy matter at hand, but trusting Doug from this point, he frees him, hands dropping to his side as he walks to lead him to an elevator. The fact of the matter is that they're going to have this talk in private, and Doug might have some water dripping off his face, but he'll feel better for it.

Given the attention given to anyone walking about, it seems like a good idea.]

THE DELAY. SORRY AGAIN FOR IT.

[mallarkey]

[ Doug still follows, weaving a little but managing with competency. He rubs his face again, exhaling and wincing once more when the bright elevator lights are in his sights, but after shutting his eyes for ten or seconds it becomes less of a problem. Inside the elevator he leans lightly against one of the walls, feeling both -- as he sobers -- uncertain about the prospect of honesty and relieved by it.

It does weigh on a person eventually. And if they're all effectively alone here anyway, is there that much to lose? ]

Sorry. [ It's quiet, followed by another exhale to circulate more air to his brain. ] You're a pretty good kid, Pete. Didn't mean to turn you into a babysitter.

[unmasking]

You're gonna understand this all too well in a little, but—I've dealt with worse. [Not just drunks, but dangerous people. Helping a friend back to his hotel room when he's clearly not in a good state is entirely different from having to fight Norman Osborn to the death. It's different from trying to deal with Electro. It's different from having to go back and forth on the moral ramifications of Doctor Octopus.

It's different.

And he doesn't mind.

The elevator dings at the right floor, and Peter moves to stand in the opening just to ensure the door doesn't close. He waves for Doug to move ahead of him.]

[mallarkey]

Reassuring. Well... a little. I don't know. That's not a good thing, but it's flattering.

[ In so much as it means Doug hasn't made a total ass of himself tonight, at least. Not yet. He breathes in and out slowly, rubbing his face with both hands before he steps out of the elevator, using the trick of staring at some point on the far wall to stay balanced and moving in a straight line. ]

That bad, huh?

[unmasking]

[Instead of looking at Doug with that, he just trots on ahead ... albeit slowly. Peter doesn't want him to see it in his face yet, even if it'll be clear. It'll be clear soon.]

Worse, actually. [Osborn worse. Doc Ock worse.

Dying in front of everyone in Forest Hills worse.

But they're going to have this talk, aren't they?]

[mallarkey]

[ Worse. Whatever that means -- but of course, Doug's mind goes to Dale, his least favorite person by far. If he has anything to be grateful for since coming here he feels that it's only that Dale never showed up, too, especially while Dahlia was around.

He shakes his head to shake the thoughts away too, trying to keep his mind on task. Whatever's happening is happening, that's for sure. There's no backing out easily now.

A little stiffly, he jokes: ]

So who gets to go first?

[unmasking]

... I'll go. Technically it's something everyone knows back home. ["Everyone" might be laying it on a bit thick, but Peter does know that enough people are familiar with Spider-Man that it could be a widespread piece of information. He starts leading them down to the right room.]

[mallarkey]

[ Doug shuffles behind, rubbing his face once more, blinking a couple times, before he straightens his shoulders and manages a more reasonable, sober gait. His brain still tingles with the mild remnants of a buzz, but it's mostly passed. The worst of it is still the light sensitivity. ]

Got me beat on that one. You aren't related to the President or something, are you?

[unmasking]

Not unless Aunt May ran for office while I've been gone. [The reply itself is a simple one, but he can't seem to muster up a smile. Because, for him, "being gone" isn't just being in Exsilium; it's the fact that he's not there at all.

It's unsettling, to say the least.]

[mallarkey]

[ "Aunt May," huh. He's tempted to ask, if only because that makes it sound like Peter grew up without his parents-- which would be, maybe, part of how they get along so well.

He leans his hand on the wall, watching Peter curiously before he gives the room a cursory look over. ]

All right, something everyone knows back home. Mine's-- [ He's sober enough to be having second thoughts, but it's too late for that, probably-- ] Well, kind of the opposite, but don't let me interrupt.

[unmasking]

In the room. Just in case someone hears. [He waves a hand toward the door. But that's only stalling, isn't it? Stalling, so he waits until they get inside, and once they are, once the door is closed, he paces over to the window.]

Back home, I was a superhero. [That's only the beginning. Peter doesn't know how else to go about this, but he knows just leaving it there might mean they miss the next part, that he somehow gets around it.] Only there was this guy. This jerk. His name was Norman Osborn, and he thought it was his god-given right to ... kill me. Before that, he thought he owned me. That kind of guy. Anyway—[His breathing hitches for a moment, because he's not typing this to someone. He's saying it to a friend.]

He succeeded.