Run #2 - Between The Rock and a Hard Place

[GM Nick]

The team plumbs the depths of the mine, existing in a small oval of light. Noah leads confidently, pausing only briefly at each junction of tunnels to gather his bearings. The scuff of boot on rock becomes a soundtrack. The concept of time begins to deteriorate, reinforced only by those who have AR implants or check their commlinks.

At what Noah claims is the half-way point, Reiya is following Mouse through a narrow gap in the earthen walls when she hears a peculiar popping noise.

[Molly]

There are times that Mouse shows a glimmer of a conscience- a small spark of metahuman empathy that suggests that, were she to actually try, she might be a good person. Then she goes and does something utterly irredeemable, like now, apparently. Like now, since she’s apparently managed to convince Yung that buying a fedora would be a wise investment.

<<Oh yeah, a Fedora or a Trilby. Either would fit your vibe.>> Even in the darkness, she manages to keep a straight face as she writes this. <<You can give it a little tip the next time you rush off to white knight some unsuspecting woman. "Fear not, m’Shaman, this fine gentlesir will defend your honor against slattern teenage whelps!”>>

Still, the earnest follow-up not only catches her attention, but also instills the smallest hint of shame about what she’s just done. <<...wait, you’re telling me you’ve never searched for Flatvids before?>> She blinks slowly, vision swimming briefly as her eyes continuously readjust to the dim surroundings. <<Asking honestly- are you that new to matrix drek?>> She glances backward, as though struggling to read his expression in the darkness. She doesn’t think he has the subtlety to be deceptive, especially not about something like this.

<<Yung, chummer, there are entire hosts, emphasis on the plural, that are dedicated to Nic Cage. I guarantee you, someone’s going to have it.>> Her sudden momentum is stymied only by the odd stifling sensation that comes with the lack of signal underground. Still, even without the immediate outlet of a search, she can feel her thoughts race at the prospects. <<What I’m hearing is that as soon as we get out of this hole, we’re due for a movie night. For mission purposes. Give me a list, and I’ll find them.>>

[GM Nick]

Noah shrugs off his pack slumps to the ground. "Let's take five," he says, withdrawing a flask from his coat. He takes a long pull and rummages for his Alpacas. "I won't pry about your business in Cali, but if there's anything you want to know about the situation over there, I might be able to give you some insight."

The smoldering red glow from the lit cigarette illuminates the coyote's face. He glances at Kiyoshi. "Intel is sort of your thing, huh?"

[MattL]

At least it’s something to keep his mind from wandering down here in the darkness. For a while it was stimulating enough to try and cope with the dampened senses and the unfamiliar environment. This is, in fact, the first time Yung has even been in a cave, so it is fascinating for a while.

<You know, it’s kinda funny that you got my vibe pegged already. You got a keen eye, but I guess I wear it on my sleeves, eh?> Yung smiles at his clever wordsmithing. <But yeah, I guess the only person I should be worried about saving is myself, huh?> He shakes his head in the darkness, as though trying to fling the image of the crying elf with a pink mohawk from his mind.

<Anyway, I didn’t say I never searched for Flatvids, it’s just not something I’m very good at. Usually my uncle takes care of that, I just watch.> There’s a pause in the messaging for a minute. <But yeah, sounds good, I don’t know the names of any other ones, but maybe there’s some info on the Matrix about that place, maybe some old Flatvids were actually filmed there, could give us a little idea about the layout.>

At the call for rest, Yung sits down, back against the uneven stone wall of the caves. He decides to bite on Noah’s offer. “You hear somethin about an uprising in da Bay area? The marines killing civilians, hospitals full up?” He pulls out a protein bar and unwraps it before eyeing it disdainfully and taking a bite. He looks up to Noah, chewing while he waits for a response.

[Molly]

Something about that phrasing, that Yung should only be saving himself, is enough to draw out a wince. <<FFFFF. Not what I meant either.>> But the question of what she does mean isn’t so clear cut either, and her brow furrows in the darkness as she struggles to make sense of the tangled frustrations behind her assessment, which long predate the incident at the train station.

<<Look, we both know Reiya’s a bad-ass. She wouldn’t be here if she weren't. >> She starts again, this time from more certain mental footing. <<I just wonder, would you have reacted the same way if that kid had run up to… IDK, Axel? Mick?>>

She pulls her arms inward, as if subconsciously huddling from the looming darkness, or something left hanging in the air. <<¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway, I’ll see what I can find. Even if it’s all hilariously inaccurate, watching old drek like that always helps my headspace- makes this seem more like an adventure than a death-wish. If I can drag you into my terrible habits, all the better.>>

The break in motion is more than welcome, as the instant there’s a lull in forward momentum, Mouse becomes keenly aware of the heaviness in her limbs. Even if they haven’t been walking for long at all, this still qualifies as the longest (and only) hike she’s taken in years. She slinks down alongside the others, pulling a knee toward her in a stretch. She listens quietly at first, perking up just slightly at Noah's curious mention of intel, as well as Yung's own prompt. “THAT’S…ACTUALLY A GOOD QUESTION. I WAS JUST GOING TO ASK HOW FRAGGED WE ARE.”

[GM Nick]

Noah stubs out this Alpaca. His face floats in the darkness, illuminated by the headlamp he wears. "Well, Saito wore out his welcome long ago but it's reached a boiling point. I heard there's rioting all over the state. The rebels are getting bolder too-- there's a lot of skirmishes and sabotage. It's guerilla warfare type stuff. I'd say it's just a matter of time before the free state is truly free again, but people thought the same thing years ago and look how it's ended up."

There's a pause. "The only thing keeping his regime propped up is the support from Humanis and the Mega-corps. You know how the corpos are though: as soon as it's obvious it's a lost cause they'll either withdraw or switch sides. It's all about resources and strategy with them."

Noah frowns. "I've also heard that hospitals are at capacity. There's been a noticeable surge in demand to smuggle in medical supplies as well. Something is going on, just not sure exactly what. Something more than your typical 'tyrannical despot king of the hill free for all.'"

"Saito's men are fanatics on two accounts: they're zealous patriots, dead-set on restoring Imperial Nipponese supremacy and also consider Saito a sort of god-warrior. It's a dangerous enemy that puts their leader's desires before their own self preservation. Most leaders need to worry about morale but I guess for Saito it's not a problem. I've heard he executes his own men if they don't carry out his orders to his likening, though, so can't say I'm all that surprised."

There's a scraping sound as Noah rises to his feet. "Just be careful over there. A wrong word at the wrong time can get you spirited off to one of those re-education camps. Best to keep your head down, your business taken care of, and come back over the border quick as you can."

Noah clicks on his hand-held flashlight. "Shall we?"

[John]

Mick sits in the darkness, having switched their headlamp off for the moment of rest. They hold their hand a few inches from the ember at the end of the Alpaca nested pertly between their lips, appreciating the soft, cherry glow. The ork had felt hardly a pang of worry over either the abandoned mine's ravening, all-consuming darkness or its purported haunting; they lived in both almost all the time.

Exhaling a heavy plume of smoke that engulfs their hand, Mick offers usefully, "Fascists gon' fasc."

Rising to their feet, Mick's head suddenly swims and the world pitches. The ork's vision tunnels– not unlike the sensation of going light-headed when one rises too quickly, but different. The sudden drop in pressure is not of the ork's blood, but of their corporeal tether as astral sense comes rushing in. Mick reaches out for the rock wall behind them, steadying themself on their feet to keep from sagging to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The cigarette droops, hanging with its lit end straight down, sealed by saliva and stuck there on the ork's lower lip.

After a brief moment, Mick shakes the sensation free and their brain swims back into their skull.

(( Roll astral perception, looking for signs of spookiness. ))

[Stephen]

Taipan frowns silently in the darkness as Noah describes the situation in Cal Free, and in particular about the apparent zeal of Saito's men. His corporate upbringing at traditionalist, family-owned Shiawase had taught him a thing or two about loyalty. The corporation, and the family, first always. In reality though, he'd seen self-preservation take the front seat more often than not, fueling a perennial game of chess played in the shadows by the high and the low alike. He tries to imagine what Shiawase could become were there true unity, unquestioning loyalty, and flawless selflessness throughout its ranks. It's a frightening thought experiment.

Gravel scrapes under Taipan's boots as he gets back to his feet and clicks on the headlamp. For just a brief moment, he sees Mick sag back and brace a hand on the rock wall. "You alright?"

[GM Nick]

The cavern seems to ripple and stretch as Mick observes the astral plane. Bright plumes of gossamer light stretch across nearly every square inch of exposed earth. This place is saturated in astral energy. Although nearly swimming in energy, it seems to be residual. The largest and most obvious signature is a winding, glimmering trail that zig-zags off in the direction the team is moving.

[John]

"S'fine, just a–" Mick cuts off, trying to blink the vision from their eyes. They scan the team, several sets of eyes now fixed on them. The ork sighs heavily. "It happened at Bongoland, too. Dunno what the frag it is. It's like the whole world explodes. Like everything I see turns to energy, but like.. bio-energy.. or some drek." Mick looks all around the chamber in which the group finds itself. "This place is fragging crazy. Light screaming off every surface like a midnight hit of acid in downtown Neo-Tokyo. In the rain." Their gaze returns to Taipan. "And there's a trail. Brighter than all the rest, and flowing like water." Mick traces the path with their hand, gesturing with a pointed index finger through the impossibly empty space of the haunted tunnel. The ork moves on to make eye contact with Noah. "And it's pointed the same direction we're going."

[Stephen]

Had there been more light, someone might have seen the well worn furrows in Taipan's brow deepen at Mick's answer. "Not gonna lie, omae. You don't sound fine. None of what you just said makes any fragging sense."

A cold anger simmers in Taipan's chest at the thought that the ork might well be on drugs during an active op. "Are you high right now? What'd you take? Aisa or some other drek?"

[John]

Mick's blood instantly rises in their veins. "No, I'm not on fucking drugs, corpo. Not unless you dosed me because I was with you both times it's happened. You really so fraggin' stupid that you think I'd get high in secret and then wonder out-fraggin'-loud what's happening? I know how to handle my chems." The ork's gaze is burning, laser-focused on Taipan. "I don't know what the frag this is, but it's like the gain on goddamned everything in my head's been turned up to eleven and blasted with neon." The ork squeezes their eyes shut and gives their head a tight shimmy when they reopen.

Releasing their hand from the wall, Mick finds their balance and pulls the cigarette back between their lips, taking a long pull from it. "And you accuse me of some drek like that again without any evidence, you corporate fucking stooge, we're gonna have problems." The words escape the ork's mouth riding the backs of small, dense clouds.

[Drew Buddy]

Axel catches the description of Astral space, and proceeds to completely miss the rest of the conversation. His heart, already beating like an excitable child who has to pee and is running full speed with untied shoelaces, kicks into overdrive. If the cave weren't so dark, he might notice his vision tunneling. As it stands, he's too focused to notice anything not directly in front of his face.

Ghosts, magic everywhere, a *fucking* river of it, and we're walking right towards it. Godsdammit, Elias, what are you doing here?

He reaches into the side pocket of his coveralls, and retrieves Echo, the Fly-Spy minidrone, and a dormant chemlight from Noah's stash. He rechecks his RCC configuration, drops the Targeting autosoft for the Steyr TMP and the Maneuvering autosoft for the Doberman, and loads up the Clearsight and Stealth autosofts. He tosses the drone into the air, and hears rather than sees its gauzy wings spread and bite into the air around it.

"Hey–Uh, hey–Hey guys," he says, suddenly aware that the conversation has only heated up, "I'm, uh, I'm just gonna check the road ahead." He cracks the chemlight between his fingers, and throws it as far down the cave as he can. With a twitch of his eye, he sends the drone down after the light source. The drone's sensor feed, an amalgam of visible, infra-red, lowlight, and an ultrasound wireframe mesh combine to give the cave walls some definition. The chemlight gives the lowlight and even visible cameras something to work with, but he doubts how far down the cave the light will illuminate.

He grabs the AR window in his fingers, and it momentarily shrinks. He cups his hands, and then splays them out in front of him. The 'ware in his head recognizes this data-sharing metaphor, and sends the live feed to his teammates.

"Let's put this drek to bed," he says with false bravado. "Pleasedon'tbeghostspleasedon'tbeghosts..."

(( Have the drone fly at ceiling-height, cautiously down the cave. ))

[Molly]

Mouse shakes her head, as if trying to jostle loose these new elements competing for for her attention: Mick’s sudden condition, Taipan’s admonishments, and the electronic feed piped into her vision, as the fly-spy floats mothlike toward the radius of chemical light. For once, it’s not the shiny new datastream that wins out, even if she does give ‘Echo’ an appreciative nod as it flits past her and into the darkness.

Instead, she takes a few uncertain steps toward Mick, looking them over in partial appraisal, but primarily in concern. She tries, and fails, to sync up the orc’s descriptions with what little she knows about drugs: the breathless agitation of her former flophouse ‘coworkers’ who’d supplement their skills with Cram or Jazz, or the dizzy giddiness she’d hear from Snacks, her Dawn-of-Atlantis guildie, when he’d pop into comms in some clearly altered state. It’s no use: whatever it is Mick’s going through is so divorced from anything in her own reality, speculating would only confuse matters further.

What she does recall is the cool determination with which they’d nicked their own thumb, just to down some drek-tier whiskey. “AS FUN AS THIS NATURE HIKE IS, MICK DOESN’T STRIKE ME AS AN ESCAPIST. THEY PROBABLY EMBRACE-THE-SUCK.” It’s more of an observation than a direct defense, but it speaks to what little Mouse knows of their teammate: they don’t let others suffer alone.

On that note, she tilts her head to Mick themself, “NEE, ARE YOU GOOD TO WALK?” There’s genuine empathy in her question. She might not know what’s going on, but she knows how it feels to subject the team to surprise trust-falls, and that this would be a bad place to suddenly collapse.

[ReiyaEmm]

Reiya lets the conversation wash over her as she walks, roughly in the middle, letting the final waves of nausea dissipate. It takes some time, and she admits she’s only half paying attention when she hears a strange popping noise. She sniffs the air curiously as if she still had her wolf nose, but shrugs it off as a rock or something.

Until Noah starts talking about filled hospitals, and Mick reports a strange astral trail that clearly has shaken them. Reiya listens intently, her interest in each warring for space in her mind, but ultimately she chooses the more immediate problem: the astral signs ahead. “Let me try and scout ahead,” she suggests, not waiting for a reply before going astral.

(( Roll astral perception and assensing, please ))

[John]

Mick's focus, like their countenance, softens as soon as Mouse interjects. Making eye contact with the decker, they offer a wan smile in response to the trust and concern that hang on her words in sharp contrast to the doubt and accusation leveled at them by Taipan. "Heh, 'embrace-the-suck.' Might be a good title for my memoirs." Not for the first time, Mick wishes that seeing Mouse's face weren't such a rarity. "I'm good, yeah." A brief pause. Their voice rounds at the edges, grows close. "Thanks Mouse." The ork is surprised to hear the elf's name come out of their mouth so directly. Wielding the decker's handle in such a way feels foreign– intimate in a way that bucks at everything inherent to the moment and hundred-thousand tons of rock under which Mick finds themself.

[MattL]

Yung takes a moment to tap into the spirit world with his Astral Perception following Mick’s episode. What he sees offers the confirmation he is looking for to interject.

He waits for a moment after the heated exchange followed by the more thoughtful inquiry before speaking up. “Now listen, you two drekheads need to take a minute, think about it, remember the pink haired girl at the train station. I’m the one you’re really mad at, anybody gonna frag things up here, it’s gonna be me, huh.”

He chuckles to himself before continuing, “But seriously, you got a bit of The Will and the Way in you, eh Mick? Well, that’s what my Tio calls it, you know, you walk the Path…magic?” Yung inquires gesturing with his hands in front of him while wiggling his fingers. “I mean, not her Path.” He nods his head at Reiya, as she stands motionless reaching out with her astral senses. “She has The Art.”

“You said this only happen one other time, yeah? Maybe you just found this Will, or more accurate, The Way found you.” Yung takes a moment to analyze Mick’s reaction to all the information, searching for any insight.

“It’s the Astral you looking at, the spirit world. Nothin to fret about, least I hope. Anyway, with a little bit of practice and some pointers we can get it figured out, eh, null persp.”

[John]

Mick's attention slingshots to Yung as he starts speaking, their ire instantly ready to rise once more. What they hear, though, blunts the edge ready to slice through what they'd expected to be a steady stream of bullshit. Mick listens, searching with their eyes both the blazing air between the two adepts and the liminal space between what the ork had expected to hear and Yung's reassurance. Slowly, the tension falls in Mick. To their surprise, Yung's explanation not only makes sense, but feels true. Mick isn't aware that they've begun nodding, slightly but eagerly, accepting the news that they've been thrust into a larger, weirder world.

Yung's words ring in the bright reverb of the mine tunnel, the moment drawing out in brief, to-term pregnancy between the team. Breaking the spell, Mick taps in feigned dopiness at the side of their head and asks rhetorically, "Huh. This drek have an OFF button?"

[MattL]

Yung shows the briefest expression of embarrassment, eyes widening for a moment of realization. “Oh, you’re stuck, lo siento.” He furrows his brow, taking a moment to ponder possible solutions to the situation.

“Well let’s see, for me, to see the astral, I use a mantra; just a little something I think to myself to focus my mind.” He brings his fingers up to his eyes, widening them with his thumb and index finger before saying in a satirical mystical voice “I wish to see with eyes unclouded.” he snickers at his self-mocking demonstration.

“Anyway, turning off, hmm.” He pauses again “I mean, usually I just close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and open 'em again. Maybe try picturing something from normal meatspace in your head, a memory, yeah?” After he offers the suggestion, he raises an eyebrow, “Oh, or for you, maybe try and use your own metavision, you know your natural thing. Not exactly sure how that works, but if it’s like switching between a vision input, maybe it’ll work for this.”

After offering the suggestions, Yung watches Mick for any signs of change with his own Astral Perception.

I wish to see through eyes unclouded.

[John]

Mick watches Yung avidly, hanging with only the slimmest apprehension on his suggestions. Nodding, the ork accepts what he has to say. So eager is Mick to get a handle on the moment that they've all but forgotten their earlier, nigh-murderous rage. The adept exhales and closes their eyes, takes the final drag off the Alpaca, and holds it in their lungs.

A memory. A saying. Something real. Something true.

–––––

What comes up hasn't swum to the surface of the ork's mind in years– decades, maybe. They recall an evening in Seattle with their parents. They had been maybe six or seven. The family had run a number of maddeningly dull errands all morning and afternoon. Mick, ever the ADHD-kid, had needed a hefty bribe to keep from losing their mind as they were dragged from place to place, fetching and managing impossibly dull adult-things. All that had kept Mick going through the whole day had been the promise of the Seattle Roller Derby that night. The speed, the ferocity, the utter bad-fraggin'-assness of the derby girls– it was al depthlessly intoxicating to the young ork.

Mick's mother had never understood the fascination– had even dissented, at first. It was too violent for such a young child for it to be a healthy thing by which to be entertained. But, those admonishments of the activity had fallen by the wayside eventually; it was Mick and their dad's thing. Or, one of them, anyway.

"Alright, Booger," Mick's dad began from the front seat in the parking lot of some boring place. "You ready to get to the fun part?"

The relief that had washed over Mick was unbelievable, infinite. "Yesyesyesyesyesohmygodyes!" The tiny ork was instantly abuzz on the rear bench seat of the four-door sedan, vibrating hard enough to jostle the car on its suspension. The Seattle Slaughter was going up against the Vancouver Vanguards that night, and Honey Punches of Throats was finally coming back after a brutal six-week injury had benched her. And word was she was looking for vengeance.

Mick's father looked at them in the rearview mirror, his smile only visible in how it rode his cheeks up to squint his eyes. "Alllllllright, kiddo! Let's fuck this duck!"

Mick's mother, aghast: "Peter!"

Mick erupted in a gigglefit in the back.

Earnestly surprised at the idiom that had come tumbling out of him, Mick's dad backtracked, "Sorry babe." Adjusting himself in the driver's seat, Peter turned the engine over, and corrected–

–––––

Mick releases the held breath, liberating only the faintest whiff of a lungful of smoke that had all but completely absorbed into their cilia. When they speak, it's hardly more than a whisper.

"Let us engage in tender sexual congress with this North American water fowl..."

When they open their eyes, the world is normal again.

[GM Nick]

Reiya - Assensing Skill Check

Assensing + INT
2, 6, 1, 5, 6, 3, 2, 4
3 hits on 8 dice

Axel's chemlight soars in a wide trajectory, creating a small sphere of crimson light. It bounces a few times before coming to rest about ten meters away. The faint illumination provided reveals nothing more than an empty tunnel.

The feed from the fly-spy reveals more of the same: an empty, naturally formed cave tunnel.

During the colorful and at times fervent conversation, Noah's gaze has been ping-ponging from speaker to speaker while his expression has grown increasingly anxious. It's clear that he's lost the thread of discussion and more than a little concerned at this shiny nightmare world that almost everyone but himself can see. A bead of perspiration runs down his forehead and drops off the tip of his nose. "Ghosts?"

Meanwhile, Reiya examines the immediate surroundings in the astral. It's as Mick described it-- as if the earthen walls are painted with lingering traces of energy. She steps forward and scrutinizes the large, undulating trail at her feet. The colors and patterns are unique, but the way in which they weave together is familiar to her. A memory from her tutelage comes flooding back: the scent of sage, warm winds and a sky strewn with stars. The Cherokee called them Nunnehi, her own people stá’aoiksi. It is the foot-print of a spirit of nature, as far as she can tell.

[MattL]

A brief smile appears on Yung’s face as Mick’s astral nature returns to a signature. “Listen meng, what you do on your own time is none of our biz, but looks like you found da off button, eh?” He gives Mick a nod “Seriously though, ducks are serial rapists, so watch your…” He pauses for a moment, “self.”

“There’s probably a thing or two more I should mention. Comparing the sight to vision, bad analogy, it’s like it’s own thing.” Yung scratches his head, having seemingly confused himself with his own explanation. “Drek, what am I trying to say?”

He purses his lips, then puffs his upper lip. “It’s like, a whole new sense, you could see it if you were blind. You can practice with your eyes closed, sometimes it’s easier to look at that way, so you don’t get distracted by the details of meatspace.” Yung cocks his head, looking at Reiya for any signs of input or supplemental explanation before continuing.

“But the most important thing you should know. When you’re using the sight, looking at the Astral, those things, the spirits, they can mess with you, they don’t need to manifest. You exist with them and you can interact with them there too.”

Yung let’s out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders. “When Reiya is done, she can fill in the gaps, I’m maybe not the best teacher.”

[John]

Mick nods along, their gaze cast off and slightly down as they do their best to soak up in infodump. When he finishes, Mick clips a brief pause by offering an apprehensive-but-considered, "Thanks." Glancing at Reiya then back to Yung, the ork furrows their brow as the suggestion of a sneer plays at the corners of their lips. "But don't call me 'meng,' meng."

[Stephen]

Taipan controls his emotions despite Mick's Despite lingering suspicion, raising his hands in a universally placating gesture. "Alright, alright, if you say so." He backs off, hoping for someone to interject with a more effective tack. Fortunately, Mouse obliges. He listens to the conversation while checking the last of his gear.

Taipan's hands slow down as he begins to understand what might have happened -- might be happening -- to Mick. If that were the case, he might owe the ork an apology, but for the moment he suspects the ork isn't in the right headspace to receive it.

Out of the blue, he catches Noah's mention of ghosts, and though he knows next to nothing about any of this Awakened drek, his mind can begin to piece together what's got some people set on edge. Kuso.

[ReiyaEmm]

Once again, Reiya has been listening to conversation between her comrades with only half her attention. Normally she’d be all about a conversation about the intricacies of astral—something she knows extremely well, for a change—but she’s currently focused on doing rather than explaining.

As her other ways of seeing take over her mindscape, she sees the trail mentioned by Mick, and more. As Yung described, it’s more like feeling rather than seeing, and she’d recognize the feel of one of the sta-au anywhere. “Ghosts, you said? Pretty much.”

The shaman moves closer to Mick and Yung. “Our resident pretty boy explained stuff rather well. But like any skill, it takes practice.” She smiles at the ork for probably the first time. “Plenty of people with perfectly fine eyes don’t see drek, do they? Same with astral.”

Reiya closes her eyes. “Gonna do a thing. See if you can perceive this, too.” She grins. “And maybe give the others some warning if I frag it up.”

The shaman sends a modicum of her energy towards the spirit. In her mind’s eye, the small representative of her looks like a crow, flying forward on silent, cautious wings. She halts at a distance that feels right and hovers, sending out a simple message in the lilting prayers of her people. Unnamed spirit, may the sun shine upon you and wreathe your shadow in his light. We seek passage through this place, and no more. May we traverse your grounds?

[GM Nick]

Reiya's orison echoes through the astral, her inner voice ebbing outward like an ethereal wave. The telepathic missive finds purchase in the tapestry of energy and reverberates a thousand-fold, creating the impression of an otherworldly choir. So laden is the cave with energy that telepathy is effortless. Reiya is glad to be the only one attempting this feat, anymore voices and it might be overwhelming.

Another popping sound emanates from somewhere in the distance. Now that she's paying closer attention, Reiya realizes that it's residual energy being absorbed into the earth. Only the highly attuned would have heard it. As she is straining to listen, the myriad glimmering ribbons pulse. There's the distinct sensation of air rushing to a point further down the path. Tendrils of astral energy wriggle and slither together, coiling like mating serpents and growing. This continues until the energy becomes an aura-- a distinct figure, humanoid in appearance from the neck-down. Although the shape of the billowing energy resembles a person, the likeness stops there. The figure's head is a single slab of earth, or at least it's arranged to resemble one. No features are present on the face of the head. It's clear from the figure's aura that this is a spirit and not a mundane creature; the aura is unmatched in its purity, a torrent of blinding golden light woven with strands of chlorophyll green. The energy that comprises the spirit moves ceaselessly, a sheer force of nature that holds the incorporeal being together.

Reiya has seen spirits before. Hell, Reiya has conjured spirits. But not like this. Most spirits are servants or allies borrowed from the astral plane and, as such, are a combination of natural energies and the naturally impure catalyst of human sorcery. This is a wholly free spirit-- a denizen of the astral plane and a personification of nature herself. She can't even guess how old it is or if there was even a point when this spirit didn't exist. Tales of kachina flit through her mind, stories of beings born of the Earth and sky. That she should witness one, let alone be speaking to one...

The spirit turns its feature-less head toward Reiya. Although it's impossible to tell where it's looking, (if it even has sight as she understand it) the distinct impression of being looked at is unmistakable. A pulse of light flares from the spirit's aura in a ring, passing through Reiya. And somehow she knows that the spirit is named Sanasatasamara.

Sanasatasamara lingers in the distance. The spirit's reticence strikes Reiya as that of a bashful and wary child meeting strangers. She senses no hostility but there's certainly an anxiety or a careful cautiousness.

[GM Nick]

Noah is still hopelessly confused and quickly approaching panic. He gingerly moves closer to Taipan and grabs his arm. "Kiyoshi, what are they talking about? I thought ghosts weren't real. I thought Rocco was full of shit. If you tell me this is a practical joke, I promise I won't be mad."

[ReiyaEmm]

Reiya is in awe of the spirit she sees before her, as clearly as she sees in the real world. Sanasatasamara’s presence feels like the very earth made manifest in a single being. The shaman is not only impressed, but enthralled.

Nonetheless, Reiya is a professional, and does not lose focus for longer than a few moments. Sanasatasamara, she intones, almost singing the name. We thank you for the gift of your presence. We give you these small tokens of our connection to the earth.

Reiya reaches into her pack and retrieved by touch a handful of the small rocks, stones and pebbles she’s picked up during her travels. She also grabs her knife and slices of a lock of her hair, the ultimate gift in many Blackfeet rituals. A being of this venerable age merits that gift, she reasons. She replaces the knife quickly and displays her offering on an outstretched palm. Bones of the earth, our mother, and substance of my own, we promise a swift and peaceful journey through your caverns.

Reiya bends and places the offerings on the ground in a ceremonial gesture. "Anyone wanna contribute?" she mutters. "Natural and unthreatening items only, chummers."

[John]

Mick considers, their head buzzing with the sudden discovery that there's an entire other world of energy surrounding them at all times. It sounds like the kind of hippie drek that the adept has made a life of mocking, but here it was, ablaze and lambent all around them.

The ork considers Reiya's suggestion, racking their mind for what they have on their person that could fit the bill for a suitable offering to the spirit. Kneeling, the ork opens their small pack and withdraws both their survival knife and a pack of matches. Stowing the knife for a moment, the ork retrieves two cigarettes from the already half-empty pack of Alpaca 100s, splits open the paper of one of them, and sprinkles the tobacco beside the lock of the shaman's hair. The ork then sets down the second cigarette and a wooden strike anywhere match next to it.

The ork rises to their feet next to Reiya, makes eye contact, and suggests, "In case the tobacco sets the need machine whirring and our ghost friend fiends for a smoke, ya know?" Considering their scabbed knuckles, the adept withdraws the knife from their waistband, holds it up, and suggests, "I'll give it a blood offering, too, unless that's gonna give it a great big ghost boner for more where that came from..?"

[MattL]

Yung’s eyes go wide and mouth hangs slack at the vision in front of him. He subconsciously bows his head in respect at the apparition of flowing light. “Dios mio…” He stands for a moment, seemingly frozen in time, trying to come to grips with what he is seeing.

The tension in Noah’s voice breaks him from his trance, he shakes his head slightly then turns to see Noah grabbing Taipan’s arm, his body language speaks volumes. “Calmate omae, don’t do anything stupid like me, eh?”

Yung scans the faces of the other crew members before locking eyes with Taipan and continuing with a calm but authoritative tone, not directed at anyone in particular. “Everyone relax, nothing to be worried about Reiya’s just talking to a friend, null persp.”

I hope.

Yung rifles through his pockets for some kind of offering, followed by his backpack. Yet nothing seems to meet the qualifications set by Reiya. He scratches his head in a subconscious pondering gesture. As his fingers nuzzle at the woolen beanie he suddenly stops, eyes widening in epiphany.

“Awww drek, you know, it really brought the outfit together.” He removes the beanie from his head. “Oye, that’s real wool, none of that synth drek, had to special order it.” He reluctantly hands the beanie over to Reiya. “Don’t think it will fit that head, güey is pura vida.”

[Molly]

As empty-headed as Yung might seem at times, the man is clearly in his element as he describes this hidden layer of existence. His descriptions are evocative, yet disarming in their simplicity- enough that even Mouse finds herself following along intuitively. Despite damn well knowing better, she squints, trying to imagine some vivid, technicolor layer to her current reality- only to be met with hollow disappointment and a dull ache in her temple when the darkness remains unaltered.

She makes a conscious effort not to interrupt, forcing herself to remain respectful of Mick’s life-altering induction into this world she’ll never know. It’s only when Reiya finally addresses the group- her distant gaze pulled at least momentarily back into this reality, that Mouse finally voices the obvious, in typical understatement: “I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS.”

She takes a moment to register the states of her fellow normies, from spooked to concern to apparent indifference, back to Reiya, who seems almost beatific in the dim light. The decker, by comparison, bears a look of subtle consternation- taunted by a truth that she can literally never understand. “CHOTTO- YOU’RE SAYING SOMETHING’S HERE? AND IT’S… HUNGRY?”

Her mental catalogue of ghost-related knowledge is severely limited, drawing from a handful of recordings with materialized spirits, horror games, and ancient anime with ghost busting kids and questionable dubs. All she can do now is to play along with what feels like mass delusion.

With only the others’ leads to go on and literally nothing 'natural' amongst her earthly possessions, Mouse digs into her pocket and withdraws her utility knife. In an awkward, clearly unpracticed fashion, she lops off a fistful of the dark hair that normally curtains her face, and drops it alongside the rest.

Not knowing where she should even be facing, she scrunches her eyes shut, drops her torso twice in a sequence of bows more hasty than dignified, and claps her hands twice. “I GUESS YOU LIKE HAIR? HOPEFULLY THIS IS ENOUGH TO COVER FOR THE OTHERS.” She casts a glance again toward her teammates, many of whom are more pragmatically shorn, before realizing it’s probably rude to turn away from the entity… wherever it is, anyway.

She shoots off one last bow, before turning tail and scurrying behind the others, unsure what to expect, but hoping she hasn’t somehow fragged it up.

[GM Nick]

Sanasatasamara moves closer to the pile of offerings, moving fluidly but with clear hesitation. Despite the spirit's aura being taller than Reiya, the astrally perceptive members of the team get the impression of a child. The spirit squats in front of the donative, wrapping its ethereal arms around its knees. A feeling of curiosity grips Yung, Mick and Reiya, and the three realize that the spirit communicates by broadcasting its emotions and thoughts on an astral wavelength. Sanasatasamara nudges the locks of hair with a finger. Happiness.

Reiya feels a cooling sensation, like a breeze against her face. Suddenly, it's as if she's been transported to a dark movie theater. Phantasmagoric pictures dominate her mind's eye-- life-like yet at the same time abstract. She sees an endless expanse of dead fish bobbing on foam-crested waves, a sky choked with smog, a field barren of trees and a meadow dominated by man-made structures. Claustrophobia grips her. She feels as though there's no where she can go, no sanctuary to retreat to. Then, deep beneath the earth. Relief. Endless dark tunnels and clean, crisp air. Time stretches to a meaningless degree. A century passes in a finger snap. Loneliness. Muddied visions of grinning, painted faces and figures dancing around a fire and naked children painting cave walls. Heart-wrenching loneliness. And then Reiya sees herself, mouth agape and a single tear rolling down her cheek. Relief. Gratitude.

Family.

Sanasatasamara gathers all of the offerings as if they were priceless artifacts. To the mundane members of the group, the objects appear to be floating. Reiya feels something connect inside her mind. It's as if her mind has anchored to something gargantuan and ancient. The projected emotions and thoughts recede like the ebbing of a tide. Sanasatasamara moves slowly down the corridor, carrying its new treasures. And then the spirit is gone, energy dissipated back into the source. Yet Reiya can still feel a thread connecting her to it.

(( You can now summon Sanasatasamara. ))

[John]

Mick stands in the empty chamber that now somehow feels even emptier than before. It's as if the ork doesn't dare move for a moment that draws out for an unknowable time. It could be two seconds or ten minutes. Their mind races so fast that time becomes irrelevant; they simply have no frame of reference in their experience to contextualize and make sense of all that's happened. The ork feels themself searching for something– anything– that might bring them back to the world they understand. Finally, it's a practical thought that manages to break through and redirect them.

The ork un-shoulders their knapsack and roots around for a moment. The rustling sound of the heavy wax-treated canvas swishes forlornly in the onyx atmosphere of the cavern, the occasional scuttle of its contents knocking against one another punctuating the lonely sound. After a moment of searching through their disorganized pack, Mick withdraws a small, rectangular device about the size and shape of their commlink. The simrig can't weigh much more than a pack of playing cards, its housing cast in gunmetal plasteel. Mick sets up the connections to record its inputs to the best of their recollection, having been show how to work it by the fixer who'd furnished it for them. They seat the simrig in a small satchel that rides just below their collarbone on a belt that crosses their torso like a bandolier, spinning the belt around themself so the satchel rests just behind the ork's taut righthand trapezius and cinching the belt down tightly so that it shift from its position. The belt adds another layer of restriction to their binding, but Mick doesn't mind that.

Mick catches Mouse glance at them as they perform the action, and justifies with a wry grin, "Probably could'a made up tomorrow's bottom-shelf-whiskey-money if I'd gotten that on sim."

[ReiyaEmm]

Reiya feels her astral self swell with the weight and the gift of Sanasatasamara’s past. The parade of images, the depth of the spirit’s emotions, and the sheer immensity of the scale of time rush through the shaman like a wave, and she’s almost reeling from impact inside her mind when the spirit takes their offerings with heartrending gratitude. It’s all Reiya can do to keep from sobbing in sympathetic pain, but with the iron self-control she possesses when (and only when) engaged in her work, she limits herself to a single tear and deliberately exudes her genuine feelings of awe, respect, and kinship. Reiya exalts in the establishment of their new connection, and as the feelings and visions ebb, that mental link remains. In her mind’s eye, Reiya sends a tendril of affection toward that link, and almost shudders at the withdrawal of the presence. That was absolutely amazing.

The magnitude of what just happened takes some time to sink in and become established as a fact and a warmth within her, and only gradually does she return to the world. When Reiya opens her eyes, she sees Yung stands beside her, a knowing look on his face; he clearly knows the effect of going astral, and understands how her further engagement requires some recovery. She returns the smile and takes a slow, deep breath to finalize her return to the world.

“I wish I could show it to you, Mouse. Words fail to express what it looks and feels like.” She eyes the decker, and then the ork, observing and grasping what the device is as they put it on. “But as we all know, magic and tech do not mix, ever,” she says, her words formal, both explaining and warning Mick of this immutable fact. Even if it were possible to capture astral on sim, Reiya regards the very idea as intrusive, let alone sacrilegious. But she smiles at the ork to soften to soften the comment. “Though I understand the compulsion to capture it all too well.”

“We can move forward with the spirit’s consent and blessing,” she announces in a louder and authoritative voice, making eye contact with all of them. “Offerings are always a good idea,” she adds, glancing at Noah, “and she might like it if you paint or draw on the walls.” Her expression turns grave, and her usual acerbity returns in the service of defending her new guardian spirit. “But no damage to the walls or the rock, however small. If you hurt her, you’ll have to deal with me. And I’ll be beyond pissed.”

[Drew Buddy]

It's only after Axel gets his hyperventilating under control that he finally notices that he's pushed himself up against the cave wall, hands splayed out against the rock, as if he were trying to press himself into the stone and disappear. His eyes flick between the dimly lit cave, and Echo's AR feed, giving him two different perspectives of the offerings floating gamely down the tunnel.

"Th-th-the frag was that‽" He exclaims, only the fear of attracting the attention of an otherworldly being dampening his volume. "Oh, frag everything about this place. Noah, you really haven't seen anything like that happen before?"