Scene #5359: Return to the Ruins

Owner	Pose
Priscilla	For a few, it is their first time seeing Njorun up close. For many, it is not. For all of them, the great tree, the very backbone of the Union, is nothing like they were prepared for. Just as the great Superfaction was shattered, broken into inchoate pieces in a disastrous cataclysm that left the Multiverse almost unrecognizably changed, so has Njorun, and the area around it for the span of an entire world. The impossibly massive tree's fall and impact with the earth had generated so much energy that what must be millions of square miles have been levelled of anything of worth, and thousands have been turned into a molten crater; glassed by the tremendous force, and shot through with rivers of lava where the earth's crust was entirely broken through. Frankly, it looks like a vision from hell, choked in ash and fire and the reek of death. New Washington may as well not have even existed, for all that remains of it; it was practically atomized by the fall. Still, it hadn't managed to totally destroy the world-tree. Not even close. Monolithic pieces of it litter the miles-deep crater, both the broken boughs and shattered pieces of the micro-continents that they once supported, and the endless twisting roots now wrenched up from underground, now exposed to the burning, choking air. Unavoidable, is the overpowering smell of rot and decay. Njorun had one provided for the Union with its infinite energy of growth, but now, as a dead thing, that power is turned only towards the near-perpetual disintegration of its incredible mass. Mixed with the lava are small lakes of putrefied plant material, bubbling in the heat and releasing who knows what with each pop. The plant's flesh itself is coming apart like a frayed quilt, where a million shades and species of bark, and stranger things, show as patchwork in its decaying, de-unified surface. Of course, others have come this far. Exceedingly few have made it back. Though Njorun's final act of will was sufficient to save all those within and around it at the time, the dead giant cannot dissuade the suicidally brave from seeking fortune within its incredible skeleton. The Union, after all, had absolutely sat on the Multiverse's second largest pile of riches in its history. As far as anyone is aware, though, discounting sketchy vendors claiming to sell trinkets and knicknacks retrieved from the tree, the only one who has known to have entered and come back, is the Concord, in some fashion or another. Finding a way in is less difficult than one would imagine. Navigating down the crater without incident can only truly be done by air, but the brave or extremely durable can navigate their way down the endless, steep slope of burning magma, volcanic rock shards, groves of spear-like tree splinters, rivers of toxic effluvia, and worse, if they absolutely have to. From there, there are a million places to enter, where branches and roots have snapped, exposing the tree's marrow and the sprawling cluster of corridors inside of it, like the honeycombs of a beehive.
Yang Xiao Long	How do you get from the top of a cliff to the bottom. Well, the fastest way is a straight line, from the top, to said bottom. And that's how Yang decides to do things. Securing her breathing equipment, and the backpack with rope, a flare gun and some other materials, she deploys Ember Celica and just runs straight for the edge, before leaping off. "Whew, s'hot in here... focus Yang, this is a lot longer fall than Beacon Cliffs. She aims to smash through some of those giant splinters, using her fist to shatter the decaying wood and slow herself down slightly. She does this, and uses outcrops to arrest more speed, before leaping again, firing her Kinetic rounds occasionally to get more clearance, or airbrake. Once she's at the bottom, however long that takes, she lands, rolls out, then pulls the flare gun out to aim it skywards. The orange-yellow flare soars skyward, but will likely not even reach near the rim of the crater.
Yuna Kagurazaka	There were a lot of problems that needed to be solved about getting to Njorun Station and trying to rummage around for the parts the Watch needs - and Yuna hasn't had the time away from her other obligations to solve that many of them. Just plotting out a route to get to the wreckage of the great tree was something she had to delegate to Elner. So the Mike-maru-go has been 'parked' at a relatively safe location, leaving Yuna, the Matrix of Light, and maybe two other people to head in by air once Yang's flare goes up. Yuna herself is in Flight Form, with the Light Suit's powers protecting her against the ambient heat and the noxious gases while she flies fairly gracefully down towards the ruins of Njorun; Jiina and Marina are a little farther behind her, but if there's anyone in the group with no other way to make it down, each of the armored androids can carry one passenger safely. The little robo-faerie Elner is sticking close to Yuna, scanning intensively and trying to filter out sensor noise from useful data. Shortly thereafter, Yuna touches down near Yang's landing spot, her left arm raised to keep one hand near her mouth and nose. "I didn't think it would be this awful," Yuna says quietly, just barely audible over the varied sounds of burning and bubbling all around her. "Elner, do you have enough data to sort out where the Ring of Philosophy would have wound up?" Elner scans a few seconds longer, then reports, "I can estimate, but there's almost nothing in the way of an intact point of reference. Let me see if I can at least narrow it down some."
Wo	Of course, the Wo-class carrier had never actually visited Njorun, back when it was alive. She had seen plenty of it on the news feeds and in various intelligence materials, however, so the lost paradise isn't completely lost on her. The sight of the decaying ruin amidst the ravaged landscape hits closer to home on a different angle, though: Her old home, Iron Bottom Sound, though far smaller in scale, had a similar atmosphere. That vastness only increases that feeling of desolation, however, especially as they pass the few scraps and cast off hulks that have broken free of the main corpse, and the only close up hints of what it once was for a long while. As for how she is navigating this hellscape, it would be on the back of a reinforced transport, courtesy one Allan Bodily. She could likely fit inside, minus her hat, but she opts to ride along on the outside of it, hair, cape and the tentacles attached to the hat affected by both inertia and the heated, fetid air. This would be an extremely unpleasant place to be even without the epitath of the Union writ large in front of them, but as they continue the approach, and the terrain only grows more hostile, it's impossible to ignore the increasingly looming object before them. Where would they even begin researching such a massive complex? A proper survey could take even a dedicated recon and science team, that the Watch can't actually afford, decades, by her measure of it. "It'll have to be a combination of luck, and our former Union members' memories, at this point," she speaks aloud, to no one in particular. She does have at least one manner of providing assistance, however, provided their engines don't spontaneously begin melting into slag, or being choked by plumes of smoke and miasma. The flight deck of a hat atop her head opens its distressingly human-toothed maw, and begins pouring out a wave of Abyssal fighters, sleek, black things that emit the throaty whine of a jet turbine within. It won't do much against the scale of a dead world-organism, but keeping an eye on and from the sky is always of value.
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney is taking a slightly more conventional way down than Yang, assisted by a pretty awesome piece of tech from one of Tiny's friends, a compact wingsuit. She pulls on the angular domino mask that would ordinarily belong with her X-Force costume but today is used more for protection than intimidation. A breath mask slips over her nose and mouth, twin hoses leading to a cylindrical housing on the back of her neck that houses the filter and miniature oxygen supply. With a roll of her shoulders, thin but tough fabric unfurls, linking the area between her arms and waist. With a nod at the others and a quick run-up, the teen launches herself off the cliff edge, alarmingly dropping out of sight before she reappears, having achieved enough speed to get some lift. Pretty good thermals, too. She glides along, banking left and right as she scans the ground beneath her. <<"Remind me what exactly we are looking for visually, again.">>
Allan Bodily	A volcanic hellhole? you'd need to be tough to survive that. Like you'd need regeneration or something. Oh, wait... The noise of the Njorun crater is joined by a new sound: Some classic rock, sputtering and static-y as it comes in over a busted old radio in a patched together old truck. The truck bares the logo of a scarred fist holding up a broken tool on either side of it. Inside, several men in patchwork armor, holding makeshift rifles huddle while one of them, holding what appears to be a well-maintained shotgun speaks up., ending it over radio so the other transports can hear. "Alright Ladies and mother-#$&ers! Yuna's gotta go do her big 'my heart will go on' #$&* for Njorun, and the watch wants info on what's going on with the old treefort. Us? We're here to be the muscle, This place is probably crawling with all sorts of dark, nasty #$&, any of it so much as looks at any of us funny? #$^& it up!" "That said," He continues. "this is our first major OP as part of the watch and I do NOT want to #$^& things up with our new buddies! Play nice with the other Watch members, back 'em up when #$& hits the fan, and no running off to scavenge #$^& without mine or another Watch member's say, GOT IT?!" The other men bark affirmatives." "Good. @$$ES IN GEAR PEOPLE! It's go time!"
Reinhardt Wilhelm	It is eerie seeing Njorun like this. Reinhardt's usually too damn stubborn to just lay down and sleep off his injuries, and this is no exception, especially when the topic of Njorun comes to mind. His armor is scratched and dented, with many new little dings and scrapes along the plating thanks to Septette and his little fight the other day. He is horrified by what he sees here, an entire megacity just...disappearing entirely, the world-tree broken, like the apocalypse basically happened. He's grateful for Allan's offer of a rid,e especially with the flatbed in back holding him, and he hops off once the vehicle stops securely. He lands with a loud THUD, that'll probably be unpleasant for people around him. Popping his neck, he cocks an eyebrow at Allan's speech. Was the Red Union an enemy of the Union? Man that's a weird sentence. He looks up, looking at Laura as she flies in, as well as Yang before the Huntress in training jumps into the ditch. He can't help but laugh as Yang disregards safety, and jumps into the abyss. He figures it might be a minute at least before she even hits the ground. "We are looking for a place called the Ring of Philosophy, a virtual reality simulation chamber of sorts that could project any kind of environment at will, for safe training exercises."
August Kohler	August can count the number of times he's been to Njorun with one hand, the scale always throwing him off. He never saw the appeal of the giant tree, but there's likely to be equipment the Watch can use here, and that makes delving in worth the risk. He's dressed in hiking clothes, with a vest, rope, flashlight, and a shard of glass at his side. Not overly protective, but better than nothing, as he rides alongside the Red Union in their carrier, listening to Allan's speech. The redhead isn't as durable as Wo, so he's not out there with her, but he speaks over the radio. <<"This is probably going to be insanely dangerous. Stick together, don't wander off, and if you see anything, report it immediately.">>
Leyanne	Leyanne Mace waits up at the lip of the cliff, near where Yang launched from. With her breath mask in place, the mouse giggles to herself, giving Laura a thumbs-up before she goes. Once everyone who's going down fast has begin their jump, the mouse stands at the edge, savouring the drop before her. A deep breath before she takes a few steps of run-up herself and the she's out over the edge. There's that little flutter in hear heart, as always, as gravity takes over... and as always, the ferocity of the accelleration Earth-normal '3gs' of gravity brings to her heavy form. "This NEVER gets old..."
Priscilla	Elner has a hell of a task ahead of him, carrying out what Yuna asks. From the ground, it's impossible to begin to make heads or tails of the labyrinthine sprawl of smashed and jumbled pieces that had once been big enough to require internal warpgates to get around. From the air, it's easier to get an overlooking view, but there's only so far a single person can see. Njorun's design --at least the publicly known sections-- is a well recorded print, but the great tree has been broken in so many places, along so many times, and tossed so badly about by the violence of its own collapse, that the robo-fairy will only be getting a positive match when Wo sends her scout planes out to increase the group's coverage, and provide some triangulation to reference off of. Well, 60% positive, anyways. Margin of error 20. Regardless, it's pretty possible to map out a way down to Yang's flair with that aerial map. Allan's truck will be no doubt enduring its share of scrapes, dings, unsightly bumps, and some scorched and carbonized paint, but it'll get to the bottom without anyone being killed. Laura and Leyanne are in a less enviable position. Taking the wingsuit all the way down is looking to become increasingly risky, as the closer to the ground one gets, the more intense, and seemingly completely random, the thermals get, and closer to the tree, the forest of wooden fragments reach several times as high as skyscrapers. Diving, or god forbid free falling, looks like a 50/50 shot of landing in a creek of lava or an Indiana Jones-esque pit of obsidian spikes. Either way, after an unpleasant length of time leaving Yuna's software to crunch the numbers from Yang's relay, a route can be traced out; through the titanic debris of the broken branch, easily large enough to build a city subway grid inside, and dark enough that one would be easier to find one's way around besides. Its walls are so thick that, even half-buried as it is, the exposed corridor very closest to ground level is still only doable with a short, sheer climb, a grappling hook, small super jump, practice parkour, or the like. At least it looks easy enough to carry someone up.
Yang Xiao Long	Yang stands, tosses the spent flare gun into a nearby pool of something or other, and rechecks her breathing gear. All good, oxygen levels green... right, where's the others at.
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney banks, coming around toward the blonde girl below the flare. A shallow dive gets her close to the ground, the mutant flaring to lose as much speed as possible before she drops to the ground, still harder than most human skydivers would, especially on rough ground like this. Fortunately for her, sprained ankles are a mere annoyance with a healing factor. Another roll of her shoulders, and the wing fabric disappears back into the harness. <<"I take it this is our entry point?">> Tilting her head to one side, she closely examines the entrance, before leaping up, kicking off footholds on the way, before finally pulling herself up inside. She searches the first few yards of the corridor for a suitable tie-off point for the rope, and if she finds one, tosses a line down to the others.
Leyanne	Leyanne Mace has, herself, to pop a parachute to land safely; she's not blessed with Laura's healing factor... and she is rather heavy. She waits until the last minute, however, pulling her drogue out manually. The parachute opens with a whip-crack and wedgie, the mouse wincing slightly behind her mask... that -always- sucks. Flaring her canopy, she lands neatly, but still relatively heavily, near Laura and Yang, bleeding off the last of her speed with a few gentle running steps before she collapses the canopy and bundles it up. Sadly, her wingsuit isn't as advanced as Laura's, so she's got to unzip and remove it. It takes her a few minutes, and she stows everything safely. "Pretty hairy towards the end, sweeping through the spike field..." You can -hear- the grin on her face. "That was far, far more fun than it shoulda been..." The big mouse takes a few deep breaths, calming herself, using the time waiting for Allan and the others to calm herself down a little, to get her game face on. After a few moments she follows Laura up the corridor, choosing a different route due to her significantly increased mass.
Allan Bodily	The trip is rough, but fortunately Red union vehicles are built to handle some bumps and scrapes, if only by virtue of starting out so banged up that who's to notice if a few more dents form out in the field? As the transports move, where wo and Yuna direct them, Allan and his men make final preparations, loading weapons, adjusting armor... the driver, fiddles with the radio until suddenly a song picks up. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzQ3eBerHfM TAllan pauses for a moment to give the driver a look. "Really?" Before shrugging and returning to checking his ammo.
Yuna Kagurazaka	That's a lot of data to sift through, and even Elner has to winnow out what seems promising versus what looks like it's not going to lead much of anywhere ... while still keeping the 'excluded' data in memory to shuffle back into the analysis. That's enough time for Yuna to close her eyes, fold her hands, and offer up something like a prayer - silently, but still. 'Great spirit of Njorun, if any part or vestige of you remains to hear us ... please, protect and guide us with whatever power remains to you. I've come to try and keep my promise, to make sure your children have a chance to grow elsewhere in the Multiverse. I'm sorry I took so long - and I don't know if we'll get that far on this visit, but know that I never forgot my promise.' By the time Yuna's done praying, Elner transmits, <<"I think I may have a lead on where we need to look. - How steep an uphill grade can your vehicle manage, Allan?">> And with that, they start making their way into that exposed corridor. Yuna herself is still in Flight Form for now, and can give people a lift up without too much trouble; Jiina and Marina can assist on that front too, but they may be needed more for trying to help Reinhardt leverage the Red Union's vehicle up from ground level to floor level.
Reinhardt Wilhelm	Reinhardt hops back on the truck, not really paying mind to the roughness of the ride. He has his stable footing, hooting at every jump. He takes note of the route, as well as the surrounding debris too. He'll be able to give the truck a push back up after this, no problem at all. "WOO, DANGER ZONE!" Someone's a fan.
Wo	It's likely safer to walk from here, no matter the condition of the structure. And yet, the scale of the Njorun ruin means that walking would take a truly untenable length of time, and when she's on dry land or cooled lava rock, her actual foot speed isn't anything particularly superhuman. Accordingly, she remains riding along with the Red Union's slightly battered and scorched vehicle. There's a thought to recall her fighter aircraft as they move to enter what's left of the complex, and possibly through what was once an exterior wall, but she trusts that they'll be able to land safely after completing their scout duties outside. Instead, she's moving her own focus inward, now. The eye-like exhaust ports on her flight deck hat visibly glow in the presumably dim, rotting corridors, as well as her own eyes. They don't cast enough light on their own to see much detail, but it's enough to give a sense of the dimensions around her. Here's hoping that the Red Union remembered to place fresh headlamps into the transport! "...this is, an interesting choice in music," she says, managing to sound slightly amused, in a rarely light-hearted mood given the gravity around them. She'd been around a relatively modern Boston enough to recognize the genre, even if she didn't listen to it much, herself. On the up side, if something has managed to, beyond all odds, move in to the ruin, or even more worryingly actually survived to run around it, it will likely be brought out by that racket. That is also the down side. Given the terrain and speed, she lowers her own profile now, by drawing her head an body down to be more flush with the truck, itself.
August Kohler	Well, that's a nice song. As the transport gets ready to ascend, August pulls out the mirror shard and glances into it, waiting for the doors to open. "I can take point once we're on foot. Otherwise, I'm ready."
Priscilla	Scaling the wreck, one way or the other, finds that the inside of the corridor, heavily reinforced and well traveled as it is, has not fallen to nearly the same state of decay as the outside. The once-immortal wood at least remains cohesive, if still highly unpleasant and strangely patchwork, and the walkways only mildly wet with biological corrosion, leaving them with enough strength to support a light vehicle, though perhaps only just. It's pitch black enough that one might assume that all the lights were blown out and shattered in the fall, but would it matter either way? There's no way this place is still connected to a power source at either end. The closest generator is probably hundreds of miles away. It doesn't smell quite as bad inside, at least. A small trade for the cavernous blackness that presses in on all sides; an artifact of a corridor once build for giant cybertronians to get through every day. Given, light sources are easy enough to acquire, and it should be assumed the group has plenty of them, but even then, the ceiling and far walls are a dim suggestion at best. Here and there, the light catches a particular shadow that leaps dozens of meters forward, projected into enormity from sickly, branching twigs protruding into the inner corridor, sometimes growing right through breaks in the plated floors. Every footstep echoes like a marble dropped down a well, somehow rolling off every wall and coming back. It sounds like metallic banging and hollow wooden knocking at the same time. The thrum of the engine, for how long Allan cares to force it, is oddly swallowed up though, not coming back at all, as if obeying totally different acoustic dynamics. Starting to look a little more closely, the further anyone goes, the more that little irregularities pop up. Places where the brushed metal has taken on a woody grain. Places where the stunted shoots that pop through it sprout only leaves of inert metal. Places where the two whorl together into something sticky with oily sap that is probably best left alone. There are plenty of signs where a piece of the tree grew and then immediately decayed again, owing to seemingly infinite and random varieties of more mundane tree growing out of little patches here and there, only to die once more. It's a long walk, though. A long one without any impediment. It's big, it's drafty, it's replete with spooky shadows and echoes, and the ever present weight of death, but eerily clear of any obstacles. It's quite a while before the Watch even stumbles across the remains of what must have once been a bulkhead, all of which were likely emergency locked minutes before Njorun's demise. Once sealed shut by reams of powerful super-science materials and top-grade protection magic, the two don't seem to agree with one another anymore. The metals and ceramics that are meters thick seem to ripple and squirm as magical currents pass through them, and looking closely, the physical materials are pitted with small holes where some mystical residue has /bled/ out and hardened, like punctures into its 'skin'. It's mildly disturbing, how an inanimate bulkhead manages to look like a parasite-ridden corpse. Furthermore, it's clearly been broken through by force. The control panel has been visibly ransacked, but the doors only opened a sliver. The meters of interlocking joins and bolts and wards that play along the exposed seam seem to have been alternately sawed and blasted through with explosives, leaving a gap between them big enough to squeeze through, but which has started to deform like melted cheese being pulled apart, stringing re-hardened metal and calcified magic crystal back and forth across the only way through, like scar tissue on a heart valve.
Reinhardt Wilhelm	Despite Reinhardt's earlier excitement, he swiftly begins to sober up as it hits home that THIS used to be Njorun. He's back to being serious, worried even, as the trek continues through the pathway, he takes that walk while keeping his eyes open for any tech to salvage. He doesn't quite have the eye for it like Torbjorn would, but he does his best to be useful, hefting stuff that looks vaguely SCIENCEY onto the bed of the truck, and giving Allan's vehicle a firm clap to signal the cargo is secure. "An ill wind passes here, we must not tarry for long." he says after a long period of not saying much at all, really. It's awfully unlike Reinhardt to be so silent now. Maybe he knows this place is basically a giant grave, though it's not easy to tell what the death toll was during the event. Eventually, he gets his hammer ready, before he uses the shaft to pry open that open space, for others to possibly slip through.
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney is lucky that one part of her X-Gene granted abilities includes enhanced senses, meaning that the darkness isn't a problem. Once the noise of outside has died down, she pulls her mask down and to the side. She's smelled worse, but probably nothing toxic enough to matter. The sight of the door though... That seems off. Organic technology has never ended well in her experience. She pops her claws, their silvery metal shining in the lights of her companions, before stepping forward to help Reinhardt slice through the strands blocking the way. "I have a bad feeling about this place."
Leyanne	Leyanne Mace nods quietly as she moves with the others, covering Reinhardt and Laura as they move to get the strands out of the way for the others. She pauses, slinging up her gun and drawing her sidearm to hold a light up and better illuminate their work. Her antennae twitch and move as she senses the air, shaking her head a little. "We're the only sources of EM noise that I can pick up." She comments. "Power must be dead for a very long way... maybe there's none in this whole branch. I... don't ever remember Njorun being this quiet. I don't like it..."
Yuna Kagurazaka	Faced with the darkness inside the corridor, Yuna simply manifests the Matrix Divider, the weapon casting a soft glow in her hands as she channels a bit of power into it. Plus, the atmosphere within the ruins is such that she's glad to have a weapon in hand, even if she doubts anything is alive to pose a threat. August's on-radio remark about the whole place being a corpse - never mind that he's exactly right - only puts Yuna further on-guard and uncomfortable. Still. This is the mission she organized - she's not allowed to chicken out. Despite the distressing nature of the surroundings, Yuna forces herself to look - for signs of something that's still potentially alive, for familiar landmarks from her own occasional visits to Njorun Station back when the Union had its headquarters there, anything that might provide some useful lead ... or even that might merely serve well to be remembered, whether for future exploration missions or to offer up prayers at holy ground more wholesome than this. And then she spots the slightly-opened, scarred-over gap in the bulkhead. "Check for any identifying marks," she suggests to the others (including to Elner). "Anything, any detail that's still intact. It may not be any good here or now, but we can at least check to see if there's any references to help confirm where this part of the tree was." She pokes at the magitechnological 'scar tissue' in the gap, using the tip of the Matrix Divider for lack of a better tool; although she's got a charge in the weapon, she's being careful not to discharge it. If cutting through is necessary, she's prepared to be the first one to swing at it.
Wo	The Wo-class has keen night vision, even without the glowy bits, but much like her internal electronics it was designed for different things than inspecting and navigating a horrific deadscape. If anything, the regularity of it all, broken only up by clues of life that quickly succumbed after trying to sprout again, threatens to almost make it a liability. Those small tidbits that break up the monotony are somewhat interesting, in a macabre way, though -- it makes sense that not all of a plant, especially one this size, got the message that it was supposed to stop growing. She'll assume that the toxic environment soon did in these offshoots. Yuna is right, any clippings or sample from this area would probably be too damaged and self-contaminated to be of any real purpose, outside curiosity. Speaking of those electronics. This was a mission that Yuna had sparked, and while she's offering her own counter advice, she accepts some of her own, to leave all senses open and available. She's not really reading much, though, beyond what her eyes can see otherwise. There's a strange blending of metallic and rotting plant fiber, that almost somehow seems to be settling itself despite that it should be relatively inert, by now. Some of the more technomagical elements, as they advance further in, seem to be in a similar struggle with one another. It's...strange, even by her high standards. Like an Abyssal having their own equipment start gnawing on them. After a long journey into the heart of this particular segment of the vastness of the former complex, which itself only covered a tiny sliver, she calls ahead to Allan. "I'm going to get out and look around on foot for a while. Stick to the general area, if you would." And regardless of stopping, she does just that, hopping out to land on her boots, and digging slightly into the half-decayed surface, before coming to a stop completely. She then begins to pace through the corridors, casting her eyes around this way and that. Identifying marks are hard to come by, with so much of the previous exterior compromised and the raw 'guts' of Njorun exposed in many places, but she'll try. Anything that vaguely resembles a 'you are here' plaque or similar signage would receive a brushing of biomass away by her hand, not shy about getting messy. Meanwhile, outside, the fighter jets are beginning to grow low on fuel, so they're going to have to end their surveillance and scouting of the exterior. Their duty over, they fly off to a relatively safe distance, moving to land on a cooled bed of what was not so long ago likely molten rock, to await retrieval on the way out. Assuming the ground doesn't open up beneath them and swallow them up in the interim, that's certainly possible.
Allan Bodily	There's a small shower of sparks as the headlights spring to life, Allan and his crew peer out the windows. "OI! Cut the top Gun $^& we need to keep an ear out!" Allan frowns as he watches the road, the radio falling silent. his men whispering amongst themselves. "Think this places looked this messed up before it bit it?" "At the very least? I think it was grown using a bit more than Miracle-Gro." "The hell was the Union DOING here?" "So that's how the other side lived." "OI!" Allan snaps. "Traps shut and eyes open, this ain't some #^&*ing field trip!" As the trucks move on, Allan and his men scan the surroundings, a few of the better prepared men pulling out flashlights, old and battered. Everyone has a weapon drawn. "Safeties off if yer gun's got 'em. We're large and obvious, anything looking to #$^& with us ain't gonna be looking long." He leans over towards the driver. "She holding?" "Barely, Whatever we're looking for? It better not weight much."
August Kohler	As the truck climbs up, August unbuckles and moves for the door. "I'm getting out here. Thanks for the ride, Bodily." Leaping out, he glances into the mirror shard, takes a breath, and calls out. "Persona!" With a spark of blue energy, the gun-legged robot soldier appears in front of the redhead, as they begin to travel inwards. This place is creepy, and August takes a pause at one point to check under his boots to see what's rubbed off. He's quiet, utterly on-guard, for most of the walk, up until the bulkhead is reached. "The Concord must have gotten to this. Similar sabotage will probably indicate areas they've been through, I'm thinking." Pulling out his flashlight, August moves to slip through the bulkhead with the others, shining the light so that the others have an idea of where to move. "Any guesses on what's past here? Could be anything."
Priscilla	Even if it looks about as sturdy as strings of wax, the melted and tangled mess between the partially open blast doors is somehow still incredibly sturdy. It's certainly not rated to arbitrarily wall off whatever kind of Confederate intrusion could be brought to bear anymore, but gooey strands of magic-metal slurry feel as if they were forged and cast that way, requiring extremely dedicated hacking and prying, and quite possibly some bashing with that hammer. They have only to squeeze a handful of people through, though, which is a task that's feasible given their time frame. Idetifying marks are almost just as much of a pain to come across. All of these bulkheads should be numbered, but the lettering is totally unreadable, in its advanced state of perversely near-biological decay. The console that would tell attempted visitors where they're going has been, on closer inspection, /physically/ ripped out, and its wires and jacks have been quite deliberately tampered with; it didn't just fall apart on its own. Of course, there are no functioning transportation rails, and with corridors like these, they rarely bother to hang up maps, since you're meant to be either blazing through them at high speed, or skipping through them entirely. One would have to be a former Unionite to recognize the only marker they do get: a glitchy, badly garbled intercom message warning visitors not to disturb training sessions in progress in about fifty different broken languages at once. Wait, isn't there no power here? It's right on the money, though. From there on, it's practically just a straight shot to the Ring of Philosophy, though no longer really recognizable as such. For the first time since Njorun was built, the facility is inactive, and it really sinks in just how much of its atmosphere and decor were projections just as surely as the obstacles it conjured on demand. That is, all of it. There is little left but an utterly gargantuan dome in its place, floored in spartan grey-white at perfect, featureless level, and surrounded only by observation decks set at lofty heights into its 'walls', factually just being intersecting corridors from the rest of Njorun that wrap around it. Logically, it should be pitch black, but a blank, directionless sort of illumination makes the floor faintly visible for what might actually be miles, and a light is visible at the far end, where the elevators that lead in from the gardens now rest in pieces. The user controls must be close, but nobody ever really had checked where the data storage itself was. The only thing that stands out, is that for a considerable distance around the Watch's chosen point of entry, the otherwise blank floor is strewn with corpses, scattered about in ragdoll positions. For the barest of moments, they might be mistaken as unlucky treasure hunters, but even a casual examination finds that the scores of bodies are more like human effigies, carved (or /grown/) of twisted, decaying wood, more skeleton than man, and stuffed with luminous flowering fungus in place of organs, some of which has broken through their skin and begun to bloom. Without exception, they've been violently destroyed, chopped, hacked, burned and blasted to pieces, sporting bullet holes that ooze dried sap, riddled with shell fragments, and some completely ripped in half and rotting as if they'd been there for years. Colourful fluids paint a high impact tapestry all around them, sticky and disgusting to walk in, to say the least.
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney hacks through the strands, sparks flying as her claws sever goopy strand by strand. If it's this hard to get through with adamantium, it must have been nearly impossible otherwise. Once there's a wide enough gap, she steps aside to let the others who are more experienced with this place through. She's just here to cut, carry, and use her senses to help if she can. The others would likely know what things look like exactly. As they enter the dome, she stares upward. This... makes the danger rooms look like a shower stall. If it's this big when it's /off/....
Leyanne	Leyanne Mace swings her pistol around to aim at the source of the sound, keeping her finger off the trigger for the moment. She flexes her antennae, trying to sense if there's any electrical power behind those systems. "What the... Hokay that's weird, I'm not feeling any electromagnetic power behind that intercom." She looks slightly on-edge. She calms dowm during the walk through the transit tunnels, though anyone who knows rodentine body-language will tell she's still on-edge, light machine gun in hand and ready. She tries to cover everywhere at once, antennae, nose, and whiskers all twitching at once as unconsciously tries to pick up any danger. When they get into the training room, she looks to Yuna questioningly, about to ask the obvious question when Laura speaks up about their scents. She stops and takes a sniff herself, crouching down to investigate one of the 'corpses'. "Question is, is this a memory of something that used to happen here... or have planty death troops been training here? Talk about an 8.5 on the heebie jeebie scale..."
Yuna Kagurazaka	The sound of 'be careful of interrupting training sessions' warnings is the first good news Yuna's heard since they entered the ruins of Njorun Station, and - in spite of the eerie surroundings, in spite of the frank impossibility of any old automated systems still working - a smile touches her face as the group makes its way onwards. "We're in the right place, somehow ... thank the gods," she says quietly - Right before she spots the first 'corpse'. She starts to let out a startled squeal, suppresses it almost as quickly, and winds up ramping up the power focused into the Matrix Divider, raising its glow to enough light to see by a lot more easily. And as much as Yuna regrets seeing things more clearly, she keeps the light bright, rapidly convincing herself (somehow) that they're constructs, some product of the Ring, not actual corpses. At least, she thinks she's convincing herself. It sure isn't convincing the others very quickly. "The Ring used so many simulations, and I still don't know whether it was more technology than magic or the other way around ... I think these are ... some kind of artifact from those, mixed with Njorun's inherent power. What's left of it." Yuna pauses, swallowing hard. "Let's try and find a power source; whatever equipment we need, we can probably trace it from there. Everyone else ... stay alert, try not to get separated or too spread out." Elner sticks close to Yuna, but the robo-faerie is indeed scanning for power sources. The announcements alone are evidence, SOMEthing is working in here even if it shouldn't be.
Wo	Unfortunately for Wo, in this case, she never even got close to the facility when it was still alive. Decayed as it is, even with her own experience around decrepit structures and vehicles, she entirely misses whatever clues might still be legible, though she didn't begin with much hope. More interesting in this case are conspicuous areas where kiosks and other equipment probably should remain, but they have been forcibly removed, and it doesn't take advanced forensics to tell. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. There would be a lot of valuable salvage here, for anyone brave enough," she ponders aloud, even if there's few in her immediate vicinity. Still, it's troubling from another aspect than that they might not get first selection, as she speaks through her internal comm set: "Everyone, be careful. Since we're not the first ones here, whoever was might have some surprises in store for us." With that, she kicks free of her boot some of the decaying plant sludge that's practically everywhere, and continues on to follow the others. This also means she benefits from the tampering of others, as they make their way through the remains. The tangled plant matter, in the form of humanoid bodies, is quite the attention grabber, it turns out, and the carrier isn't shy about leaning down to take a closer look, her own yellow eyes glowing golden in the ambient light. "If these ever were mobile, it looks like someone or something has gotten to them first. Possibly, but we shouldn't assume, whatever's been here ahead of us." Still, that's quite a thorough thrashing for what might have been a glorified target dummy. Hmmm. Assuming one doesn't jump scare or reach out and grab her, she stands back up to her full height after, giving an agreeable dip of her head toward Yuna. "I believe the space in here is enough that my fighters won't have any trouble, so long as they don't go too fast." Though admittedly, it's difficult to read the exact dimensions in the glow this place has. Accordingly, the mouth of her hat hinges open, releasing a smaller wing than usual of three Abyssal fighters, which emit a buzzing sound as they begin to climb inside the structure. As for Wo, herself, she glances around for a moment, gloved hands perched upon her command cane, before she paces off. She'll be sticking to the perimeter of the structure, still within easy response distance of the others, but it would be a waste of productivity to remain anchored in place while her scout.
August Kohler	August and the Tin Soldier move forward, stopping briefly to glance at the corpses. August frowns sharply, covering his face with a hand, as he crouches to see if he canfind anything such as remnants of clothes, keycards, or identification. Afterwards, he proceeds to continuing moving forward, speaking. "There's a light ahead. That's probably the best place to take a look." The redhead moves for the elevators, but is trying to see if there seems to be any rooms to the side, that look like they'd lead towards maintenance or similar. If so, he cuts straight for those.
Allan Bodily	It's getting to be a bit much for the truck, so it coms to a halt, the back of it opening to let Allan and his men out. A small squad of 5 men, a bunch of average, unimportant-looking people, armed and armored for horrible violence with Allan no better, If not for Diplomacy at his side, he'd blend right in with his own men. The scene inside the ring earns an annoyed look from Allan. "Oh look a room full of corpses that somehow ended up there after the place was perfectly completely eva-Ain't even finishing that. BOYS!" The men are quick to gather Around Allan, as the whole team draws and readies weapons, fanning their aim out to cover a wide area in front of them as they slowly, carefully follow behind the others. Paranoid? Maybe. but who can blame him given the state of the tree?
Priscilla	The 'corpses', at least, certainly don't smell like them. Aside from the inevitable reek of seemingly perpetual decay, there isn't a hint of flesh or blood that a predator's nose would instantly pick up on. It's something stale and sour, bringing to mind some dark corner of a rainforest wasted away by a transient plague of insects. No identifying features can be made out on any wooden face, nor can any personal affects be found. The most pertinent feature that can be found by examining them are broken stalks, as if they'd grown on a branch. Softly glowing fugal 'guts' spill out of chest cavities of bark and squirming moss mostly just look unwise to poke at too closely. Who knows if there are spores. Once upon a time, this room had a weaponized configuration, to fight off potential Confederate invasion with simulated troops, but these don't seem to be them. Elner's search for a power source will be more or less in vain. He can detect traces of energy in some of the Ring's systems, but it's more like the last bits of voltage still left in the capacitors, rather than any batteries or power lines. Whatever systems they choose to operate, it'll probably be for the last time, unless they want to lug their own portable power in. It doesn't seem like much of anything would stop them, except . . . When August gets moving, he's in for a hell of a ride. Moving further into the room is like walking into an incoming tide of overpowering vertigo, dizziness and nausea, as every single one of his body's balance centers and all of his brain's spatial processing bits scream at him to sit down and close his eyes, because none of the info they're getting makes any sense. It's like he's skating on greased ice downhill, everywhere he goes, individual steps covering a seemingly random number of meters at a time, that deflect at subtle angles away from where he's trying to go. Even Wo's planes, taking to the air, run into much the same, suddenly sent spinning around the giant dome for their much greater speed. Even though the equipment is off, it's like space itself is tangled into a hideous, convoluted knot. No doubt the playing field was scrambled in the impact, but it seems odd that this particular aspect would get 'stuck' like this.
August Kohler	No identification, nothing. Figures. August sighs, but then as he's moving forward through the Ring, he suddenly seems to trip up, almost falling to the ground. His steps look pained and forced, and his hand moves to clutch over his mouth. "Hhhholy shhiiit. Don't come out here, everything feels /wrong/." He continues to try and push forward, past the feeling, and desummons the Tin Soldier so he doesn't have to feel it twice over. "I'm gonna puke."
Wo	See, this is why Wo is walking around the very edge of the chamber, instead of taking the more direct route. True, she couldn't have known that there'd be some kind of spatial/spatial-awareness disruption lingering there, but no matter. Nor is she instantly aware of it, though the trouble impacts her as well, soon enough. The internal guidance systems and instrumentation of the aircraft instantly becomes warped, and since they're semi-autonomous once airborne, they have trouble trying to parse what's right in front of them versus what the measurements and internal radar are saying. Accordingly, receiving this feedback via distressed buzzing from overhead, the carrier cranes her head upward to see the triad of planes fighting to stay aloft, even without any obvious conditions that would be causing it. Then there's a visible wince from her as two collide. Thanks to the somewhat slower speed and confusion, it's not at a fatal angle, but one of them begins to emit a plume of smoke from a crumpled portion of its airframe, and the normally clean sound of a jet turbine grumbles, almost as though choking. While the two others fight to remain aloft, that one has to depart the main volume of the room and limps back to Wo, coming to a sputtering stop right above her outstretched hands, where she catches it. "...that's strange, there shouldn't be any turbulence there. The air here feels as dead as the rest of it." She doesn't quite connect that this was a simulation chamber, just yet, which might explain a lot. For now, she orders the remaining two craft to stick to the very edges of the room's volume, instead. That's also around the time she notices that it's not only the aircraft affected, "August, too? Did the Union have some kind of non-lethal measure set up here?"
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney watches August's sudden fall from grace, and immediately decides that she is /not/ going that way. It's a good thing she'd brought the rope, and bothered to recover it after it'd been used to climb up. Hanging onto one end, she tosses the coil, which neatly unfurls behind it as it travels. THe rope should hopefully drop right over August. "Grab the rope, I will pull you back!"
Leyanne	Leyanne Mace blinks and watches the planes and August get hit by a gravitational distortion. After a moment, she picks up a stone, rock, seed or other small baseball-like object and takes it in her left hand. She tries to aim away from him but she also wants to get an idea of what's going on. She goes for the windup and then makes the pitch. It's smooth, showing practice - perhaps semi-professional level. Perhaps luckily for August, Tin Soldier, she doesn't pitch at anywhere near her full force - just hard enough to get the 'ball' to enter the distortion straight and level, the magnus effect doing most of the work of keeping it airborne, rather than pure force. "Uh... sorry if this hits you I'm trying to work out what... it is exactly."
Allan Bodily	Allan's men eye the corpses carefully, pointing their guns at them, just waiting for something to happen. Allan himself is glancing about, looking more then a tad twitchy. "Ya think... ya think if the others are right and there's some Spriit,,, Goddess #$^* hanging 'round here it got the memo that the war's over?" August's antics, along with Wo's planes cause the entire squad to snap their guns to attention towards the center of the room... and then quickly adjust aim so they're not pointed at allies. A couple men let out an embarrassed cough. "And to think, I just came along because I wanted to piss on this thing's roots."
Yuna Kagurazaka	"August!!" Yuna calls out with worry as she sees him reeling from the spatial disorientaton. She doesn't race over to help him, although she wants to - she's still having enough trouble keeping her emotions on something like an even keel, and there's too much of a risk that she'd get caught up in the same phenomenon. Meanwhile, Elner reports the lack of power sources. So it's just a matter of finding whatever equipment they can, without being able to map power traces or anything. Yuna takes a moment to try and look around August's location; are any of the 'effigies' along his path or near where he is now?
Priscilla	August practically crawling his way forward is . . . well it sure is something to look at from the outside. It's difficult to say exactly how he's moving, seeming to just slide seamlessly in and out of an observer's field of view, making him nearly impossible to keep track of. When Leyanne pitches a chunk of wood, it too- oh no, wait, it works perfectly fine. Her pitch flies straight and true, going the direct path it should, and clattering unceremoniously to the ground a significant distance away. Wo's poor planes seem to have a much easier time returning to her than they did going forward, with the effect falling off quadratically as they move away from the simulation field. August's path is pretty clear, Yuna will find, as he's already moved past the remains of what must have been some battle (especially if it was fought in this mess). Struggling as best he can to arrive at the proper entry, he will be more or less successful, though he'll find that the elevators have . . . become part of the wall. It's difficult to describe. It looks like they /budded/ out of the tracks. Their internal lights, even the little LED backlit buttons, have all become bioluminescent fungus too. Clearly, they don't work anymore. The entry compartment still exists, and seems relatively unchanged (compared to everything else, at least), but the panels responsible for selecting training settings are predictably unresponsive. If Yuna wants to take a poke, it looks like most of the power cells have melted away like candles, save a space directly under the console where it looks like the panels were forcibly removed, and the cell ripped from its cables. Going near it, the intercom crackles again, though this time it tries to speak in so many languages that it's utterly unintelligible, merely blasting the ears with a brief spasm of linguistic static and digital screeching before it craps out. Over near Allan, the blank floor warps and splits in a handful of places, letting creeping tendrils of dead wood sprout through the deck, where they wiggle about like worms extracting themselves from a cadaver. They slither, poke and prod, and quickly enough, a number of them find the wooden corpses, whereupon they stab themselves into the bark, linking the remains to . . . something or other. A number of them jerk 'awake', abruptly cast into writhing contortions and issuing rasping howls as they trash and claw at the nearest members of the Red Union, the ground, and even just the air. Most of it is incredibly ineffectual. Some still have the capacity to crawl, but most can only snap and swipe where they are, even while some seem to be given to creepy fits of weeping and sad attempts to stuff their floral guts back into themselves, or dull, repetitive tries at reattaching severed limbs.
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney starts to re-coil her rope after seeing August is ignoring it, but drops it again when she sees the strange plantcorpses start to move. She quickly moves over to back the Union up, claws slipping out of her knuckles again, ready to lash out at any that get too close. "<<The bodies are coming alive. Be cautious."
Leyanne	Leyanne Mace watches her pitch flies straight into the 'strikeout zone' she'd pictured in her head. "Huh, that's interesting." Tiny comments, turning her LMG towards the noise of the weeping plant-things. "Woah! Uh, guys? Maybe you should apologise to it for the piss comment, eh? I don't think it liked that..."
Allan Bodily	The corpses moving gets exactly the reaction someone would expect from the Red Union. "What the? BOYS! $^* EM UP!" Immediately the teams jumps to action, Opening fire at the nearest of the corpses, sweeping the area around them to make sure their immeidate sorroundings are is clear. It doesn't matter that they're not much of a threat, as far as Allan's concerned, they picked a fight and he's not taking chances with this thing. "Anyone get a good look at the floor just now? The hell was that #$^* that came out of it?!"
Wo	So it is a relatively localized effect, it seems, from discussions with the others as well as impromptu experiments. That's good. It means they won't have to inconvenience one of the Watch's precious doctors to make sure August's internal organs are still where they should be after this. Wo's aircraft, once they move to the perimeter, also seem better able to tolerate the distortions. Thank goodness the volume of the room is large enough that it still leaves them a bit of room to maneuver. "Holding pattern," she speaks openly, though it seems to be more of a command for the fighter jets, which themselves are currently in their roughly meter-wide forms. A gurgling, buzzing acknowledgement is given, as the humanoid carrier continues pacing her way, carefully, forward. That's when she's alerted to something moving behind them. Even if Allan and Leyanne hadn't said so, there's a kind of sense, perhaps. Grotesque thing to grotesque thing. Her mouth moves into a subtle frown at the sight of them moving, even if she isn't completely grossed out. She seems to be in general agreement with Allan on this one; that howling and weeping does not engender much sympathy from her, only edgy caution leaning toward gunning them down. Instead it reminds her of some of her lower level sisters of her previous affiliation with the Abyssal fleet, the sorts that would attack first and ask questions never. With a gesture of her staff, the airplanes break from their vague scouting pattern to begin edging the room over in the lumpy plant zombies' direction. They don't open fire, yet, but the gun pods on their underbellies remain trained directly on them. "I'll trust you on this, Yuna, but if they become more aggressive I'm opening up." She's still not buying into the notion that some spirit of Njorun is acting as their protector and guardian on this trip, especially given the mixed company. Yuna's familiarity is also why she's leaving her to inspect what remains of the machinery here.
Yuna Kagurazaka	Whatever August's finding, it's still on the far side of the distortion - although Leyanne's experiment with the wood, combined with August's eventually-successful passage, suggests strongly that it IS safe, just really, really unpleasant. At this point, though, Yuna is wondering more about how the 'bodies' have been re-animated. That's closer to her than the machinery is, anyway, and if the spatial disalignment/disorientation effect is localized in the MIDDLE of the room, then going around the edges seems like it ought to be safer ... and with that, the 'bodies' are sort of on the way. A bit. Yuna brings the Matrix Divider up to 'port arms,' or something close to it, and holds it securely in as non-threatening a position as she can; she needs the light or she'd dismiss her weapon. And she approaches the 'bodies,' step by step, watching how they continue to react. "Njorun brought you forth for something, didn't she? I almost wish you could tell me what else has happened here ..." If any of the bodies lash out at her upon getting close enough, Yuna will pull back again. If her approach and her quiet words prompt them to settle down, though, she'll continue onwards.
August Kohler	Physics-ragdolling his way over to the elevator, this is the most uncomfortable thing August has ever done. Once it starts to loosen up closer to the elevator, he heaves, before taking a moment to look over it. <<"Shit, I think someone already got to it. Wiring got removed.">> Taking a step back, he glances around for other doors or machines. This can't be the /only/ part of the Ring, can it? The German begins to drag himself towards whatever looks interesting next, leaving the zombies on the otherside of the ring to the others. <<"Going to see if I can find /anything/ salvagable.">>
Priscilla	Yuna is going to be extremely disappointed. Even if she can stretch her imagination to the limits and entertain the eidea that these grotesque abominations, thrashing and jerking on the floor in paroxysms of mindless aggression and distraction, are somehow an expression of Njorun's, it still won't take much staring at dead, eyeless faces and wooden rictus tendons, and listening to their burbling, teeth-gnashing nonsense to get the idea that they don't comprehend a single thing she says. They are uniformly hostile towards anything that comes near them, more like zombies created by the projector which forgot to cease to exist once it shut off, or perhaps something that got into an unwise adventuring party before them. Blasting them with shotguns and machine guns may as well be done at this point, and though it's very much like shooting fish in a barrel, it seems like only totally excessive degrees of destruction finally seem to silence them, unless one (probably Laura) severs the 'umbilical cords' that connect them to the ground. If/when shot, they slither back through the flooring without leaving so much as a seam behind. August, poking around, will find a lot of equipment that is /intact/, in the technicaly sense, but none of it functional. There seems to be a vague pattern that the more unique the system is, the more it's rotted away into a pseudo-necrotic slurry of its basic components, whereas the incredibly basic, nigh-universal components that could be produced from just about any world, are completely untouched, a percentage of which is still money-making salvage in its own right. What seems to be of greatest concern is that, while everything has enough juice still left humming in the circuits for just a little bit more use, even without a power source, a terminal to the main database seems to have already exhausted that. Specifically, it looks like data might have been lifted from the combat profiles of Union Elites already.
Yuna Kagurazaka	She'd like to think it was worth a try, but Yuna knows on some level that she's kidding herself. She backs away quickly when the simulacrar lash out at her - and when they show signs of trying to keep doing it, she levels the Matrix Divider and starts laying them to rest, as best she can. Laura calls out some advice, and Yuna follows it - blasting the roots to cut off whatever energy is going into the 'puppets,' and blowing away the constructs if they keep moving after that. So helping August with whatever hardware can be salvaged this trip is about the best she can do ... once she and Elner get over there. August will probably have done the bulk of that before Yuna gets there, though.
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney indeed does notice when one particular strike that intercepts the rootlike tendrils and results in her foe dropping like a puppet with its strings cut. She tells her friends where to aim, hopping and jumping between the fungus zombies, staying just out of reach and putting them down with surgical strikes of her toe claws. "Find anything yet, August?"
Leyanne	Leyanne Mace slings up her bren gun at Laura's suggestion, using her hand-cannon to carefully try to take out the link between puppet and plant. "Poor thing." she whispers. "I wishn... there was some way to end the tree's torment. Whatever's left of the old tree, I wanna try help it... end the pain if nothing else."
Allan Bodily	Shoot the roots? no problem! Mind with several guns at their disposal, the REd Union is far more likely to reduce whatever it shoots at to shrapnel first. As they continue to fire, Allan barks an order. "Right, $*( this noise! Everyone back to the truck NOW!" His men start to back away towards where the tucks were parked. clearing a path through the zombies as they move.
Wo	Once it's quite plain that these plant things are the puppets that they resemble to Wo's eyes, and aren't going to be able to be reasoned with by even the most well-intentioned, Wo doesn't hold back any longer. She doesn't fire in a way that will be hazardous to any that are closing into melee range, but the fighters aren't bashful about swooping in almost to within claw's reach of the fibermen, strafing them with the mounted miniguns underneath their almost literal chins. Still, it's not until those actual cables, or whatever, are severed that it seems to do much good. After that is dealt with, they pull up to retreat back to Wo, where they fly into the open mouth of her bulbous hat. Om nom nom. She has no way to personally retrieve August, but it seems that he's planning to get back through the weird sensory distortion field in his own characteristic way. She pulls her hat down over her eyes for a moment, and satisfied that they've done what they can, if not overstayed her welcome, Allan's calls are acknowledged. Before Yuna also goes, though, Wo steps up beside her for a moment, and speaks more lowly, off the radio and apparently the record. "Don't give up. We've only scratched the surface here today. We'll be back." A brisk pat to the shoulder is given, and then Wo continues on to rendezvous with the truck from before. It seems like a good time to bail out. They have a lot of data to go over and thoughts to collect.
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney does her best to keep a path clear for August, before also engaging in a fighting retreat. Once they're no longer being followed and are out of range of plant zombies, she pauses to put on her goggles and breath mask again. No point in breathing the shit in the air outside any longer than she has to. "This was at least an adequate scouting mission. We will have to send in more teams who are familiar with the hardware."
August Kohler	August frowns when he notices there's nothing of the complex parts left. He writes down where the stuff worth anything is and what it is, before turning back to the others as the retreat is signalled. Taking a few breathes to prepare himself, he starts heading back over, doing the warp spasm as best as he can over and through the sensory distortion field, while trying to aim /away/ from exiting near the zombies. Next time, he's bringing some sort of suit.