My name is Max. (
theroadwarrior) wrote in
driftfleet2018-04-02 02:11 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
The Bunker of Nariba Relia | OPEN PLOT MINGLE POST
Who: Everyone!!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: The bunker in the surrounding desert.
When: Sometime recently, see this post for full information. Below is the excerpt of information listed there. Feel free to make a top comment and thread out the sad truth and whatnot.
[Records buried in the library, the research facility, and cues from the power plant will eventually reveal the bunker in the surrounding desert. The passageway leads several yards underground, and it doesn’t appear to have been used in a long time. Those brave enough to venture inside will find that it is not much more than a tomb. Eerily enough, the emergency lights are still on, casting a soft red glow over sheets and the once-bodies beneath them.
It has been long enough that paper journals, books, and personal belongings (like bags and such) have deteriorated to the point of being extremely fragile. Handled with care, however, they are eager to tell a story.
“The engineers should have been more careful. I’m not sure I’ll be able to recoup my losses from this… At least I have enough money to buy a ride off this planet!”
“No one could have known this would happen. Hopefully it stabilizes so we can go home soon. In the meantime, I’ve been teaching my daughter how to count. She doesn’t understand what’s going on, and I don’t know what to tell her.”
“It’s not getting better. So many people have died that we’re running out of room in the morgue. We had to move all of the food to another room so that the smell doesn’t leach out, but we all know what’s back there.”
“The replicator was supposed to repair us, too.”
“I don’t know if we can go back yet, but it doesn’t matter. Even if the city was back to the way it was, there’s no cure for us. The dead are dead, and we lay down next to them as we wait for our turn.”
There is nothing that can be done for these people except to give them the eternal rest they deserve. Ultimately, the fate of Nariba Relia is a sad one and not altogether preventable.]
Broadcast: N/A
Action: The bunker in the surrounding desert.
When: Sometime recently, see this post for full information. Below is the excerpt of information listed there. Feel free to make a top comment and thread out the sad truth and whatnot.
[Records buried in the library, the research facility, and cues from the power plant will eventually reveal the bunker in the surrounding desert. The passageway leads several yards underground, and it doesn’t appear to have been used in a long time. Those brave enough to venture inside will find that it is not much more than a tomb. Eerily enough, the emergency lights are still on, casting a soft red glow over sheets and the once-bodies beneath them.
It has been long enough that paper journals, books, and personal belongings (like bags and such) have deteriorated to the point of being extremely fragile. Handled with care, however, they are eager to tell a story.
“The engineers should have been more careful. I’m not sure I’ll be able to recoup my losses from this… At least I have enough money to buy a ride off this planet!”
“No one could have known this would happen. Hopefully it stabilizes so we can go home soon. In the meantime, I’ve been teaching my daughter how to count. She doesn’t understand what’s going on, and I don’t know what to tell her.”
“It’s not getting better. So many people have died that we’re running out of room in the morgue. We had to move all of the food to another room so that the smell doesn’t leach out, but we all know what’s back there.”
“The replicator was supposed to repair us, too.”
“I don’t know if we can go back yet, but it doesn’t matter. Even if the city was back to the way it was, there’s no cure for us. The dead are dead, and we lay down next to them as we wait for our turn.”
There is nothing that can be done for these people except to give them the eternal rest they deserve. Ultimately, the fate of Nariba Relia is a sad one and not altogether preventable.]
no subject
But even with that experience, the bunker unsettles him, deep down in his bones. Before he steps foot inside of it he feels twitchy, his usual sarcastic comments replaced with solemn silence. It takes ten minutes of pacing for him to psych himself up to even head down the stairs, and another five of just standing there scowling at nothing to keep going once he reaches the bottom.
He does manage to stay down there long enough to read a few of the journals and scraps of paper, and while he can't sit still for very long, being able to focus on that rather than everything else in his head helps. He's careful not to touch anything, in order to keep what's left preserved for other people to check out. Every so often, he'll offer his commentary on the matter:]
Fuckin' hell.
[really, what else is there to say?]
no subject
She hesitated a long moment before going down into the bunker. The smell alone... She paused to wrap the scarf she'd picked up for a headcovering in the desert around her mouth a few times before following Ben into the eerily lit space. (Although, granted, once inside the process of decomposition has long-since stopped, and the smell is mostly the result of it being shut up for so long, they should be fine after a few minutes.)
The first thing she sees that really registers are the sheets. They have vague lumps beneath them, but they're not immediately recognizable. The desert is hot, after all. She gives Ben a glance and then heads toward the sheets.]
no subject
He's at her side before she can get too close, gently grabbing her arm to stop her. For all that he's having a minor freak-out, his voice is calm and his hand is steady (even though it is the fake arm and not the real one)]
Wouldn't get too close if I were you. It won't be pretty.
no subject
[And she does. She's seen things like this before, but not in... life. In simulations. In life, the bodies had been all too fresh.
Her voice is thick. She looks back up at him.]
But not knowing and wondering will be worse.
[Wondering if they were okay, if any survived, if there was anything she could do to help -- all the evidence in this room suggested that even thinking that was nonsense, but... she couldn't help it.]
no subject
[he doesn't need to know or wonder. And he had his fill of bodies years ago]
no subject
She moves forward and very carefully lifts up the corner of the sheet.
It's... exactly what you would expect. Mostly decomposed. Certainly very beyond help. She feels her stomach lurch and is careful to lightly set the sheet back down instead of letting it fall, not wanting to harm the body further.
On the other hand, she stands up abruptly and takes two steps away. Her fists clench hard at her sides as she forces herself breathe.]
...how many... how many do you think there are?
[She can't bring herself to look right now.]
no subject
How many? [he's glad that his eyesight is shit without the prosthetic, because he can't quite make out how many there are just in that room. It's probably foe the best] . . . can't tell. Too many.
no subject
She shuts her eyes and takes another moment before glancing up at him. Her eyes widen for a second, focusing on the immediate concern.] You shouldn't be breathing all this in. Do you have something to tie around your mouth and nose?
no subject
[oh, wait. He rolls his eyes and with a sigh, pulls the collar of his shirt up over his nose] I doubt there's anything bad in the air.
no subject
Do you really want to be breathing bits of them in?
no subject
no subject
Besides, he already agreed. She stops and shakes her head at herself.] Thank you for covering up anyway. What did you find?
no subject
Besides, her question gives him an excuse to lead her away from the bodies and back over to the journals. He motions her over and kneels down, gesturing with his flesh hand to what he was reading before] Journal. Or what's left of one.
no subject
Too many.]
What kind of journal? [Glancing at him a little uncertainly.] You mean from one of the people here?
no subject
Yeah. [he frowns and squints at the piece of faded paper] Things didn't go the way they thought it would, it sounds like.
[he frowns further, then reaches into his pocket for his communicator so he can take a picture]
no subject
What kind of things?
no subject
. . . "I don’t know if we can go back yet, but it doesn’t matter. Even if the city was back to the way it was, there’s no cure for us."
[he leaves off the rest, uncomfortable reading that part out loud to her]
no subject
[...go back to the city? What had made them leave in the first place?] Is that what made them leave in the first place?
no subject
[he nods to the one she picked up] What does yours say?
no subject
This says... "“It’s not getting better. So many people have died that we’re running out of room in the morgue. We had to move all of the food to another room so that the smell doesn’t leach out, but we all know what’s back there.”
[She glances up at him and then toward the back of the room they're in. A whole other room...?
She has to duck her head and she closes her eyes to concentrate on breathing again.]
no subject
Jesus christ.
—don't get sick down here. If you gotta, we can go up and take a break.
no subject
She gives him a wide-eyed look before turning.]
...but maybe that's a good idea.
[She sets the journal back down, closing it carefully before standing.]
no subject
[he pushes to his feet and makes an "after you" gesture]
no subject
no subject
Though when they reach the top he stops just outside, letting her continue to wherever she needs privacy, if she really is about to be sick]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)