| Charge Into the Divide | ||
| Date Started: 11/13/2024 Date Finished: Ongoing Previous Role-Play: Next Role-Play: Timeline: May, 1620 Setting: Characters Involved:
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| Participants | ||
| User:Lemon Jacks • User:Blackdagger01 • User:GregOfEvil •User:AbysmalShadows • User:Mr.Zeno999 • User:NotaVenusFlyTrap | ||
Foggy Whispers[]
The fog of a silent island ominously rolled along the horizon like the whispy limbs of a distant beast. Kenningham Canyon had gone radio silent over the last month without any warning. It was one of the best mining islands in Paradise, supporting the World Government during the War of Empires. However, now its convoys had fallen silent, and all communication was dead. A marine vessel plunged through the creeping conditions and plowed through the eerily soft waves. The ship was not renowned, a standard battleship within the countless armada of the Marine's available fleet. Purposely so, this mission was planned with the knowledge of earlier expeditions performed by locals and professionals alike. None had returned.
Inside the aging ship sat an office run down by years of service at sea. Its desk is chipped and stained by its previous owner. A skeleton crew moved briskly across its creaking deck. In truth, this ship was a relic, picked because its loss would mean little against the more modern warships being used to patrol the New World as tension boiled once more against the renewed tensions of an old threat. Sitting in this decrepit office was the leader of this potential suicide mission, Bluto Harold. A snail hooked up to a replay device sitting on the desk. The play button showed a surprising amount of wear. "This is K Canyon base reporting a minor incident. Workers have it under control, but this may impact the production reports of the barons. We have this under control."
The recording stopped as the tired captain stood in the center of the room. His eyes were heavy from sleepless nights as he drew smoke through his pipe. He exhaled smoke that filled the already cloudy room, mirroring the haze on the horizon. His mind ran with countless scenarios to answer the lingering question. However, as Bluto looked out the window of his office, he scoffed and turned to the voice tube connected to his office and barked into it. "Expedition squad! To my office pronto for debriefing."
The first to arrive was Commodore Ain, having volunteered to operate under the Captain's jurisdiction to aid in the investigation, her eyes and ears had few in the way of rivals, she hoped to be of great use during the mission. Stepping through the door to his office, she addressed the older officer with a salute.
"Commodore Ain, reporting for duty as requested, Sir." She spoke to Bluto with respect, not as a senior officer but as a figure of renown, having heard of his service during and before the war. She never understood his ranking, but she knew better than to ask about what might very well be a sore spot.
As Ain finished speaking the next to walk in the room was a young Female, tall for her age but not for her lineage, the Ensign named June got into scene stepping on the opposite side of Ain and crossed her arms, she was still quite fresh in experience as a Marine, more than volunteering she had been thrown into the mission against her will as a result of a "lucky draw" as she mockingly called it, but duty called and she had to answer either way.
"Ensign Dianthus June, reporting in, yo-" She faked a cough before speaking once again. "-Sir" A bad habit of hers.
A moment later, the door creaked open again, and a young Marine stepped through. His blond hair, slightly disheveled but swept back with a playful cowlick on top, seemed almost out of place against the room’s somber atmosphere. Despite the foggy haze visible through the window, his radiant smile brought an air of positivity into the room.
“Seaman Recruit Drake West, reporting for duty, sir!” he said, standing at attention and saluting sharply. His voice was brimming with enthusiasm, though it was clear he was trying to temper it for the serious occasion.
Following the man came a young woman; her appearance wasn't that of a human but that of an Oni. She wasn't dressed in the standard marine uniform; one of the freedoms she was permitted studying under the late Riko, she also carried a near-empty bottle of soda. "Capt—I mean, uh, Commander Pele reporting for duty." Half her face was scared with a pinkish flesh that contrasted against her otherwise blue body marked by blue and orange patterns, a permanent reminder of her past. Her voice carried a hint of confusion and uncertainty; despite being a marine for a couple of years, she still forgets her rank and position occasionally.
He was running late. Graves practically sprinted across the deck as he rushed towards the meeting room, pushing past anyone in his way. His ship had been delayed due to... reasons, but he feared it would leave a poor impression on the Captain, the Bluto a man renown for his no-nonsense attitude and demand for excellence. When he turned around the corner towards the interior of the ship he spotted the others entering and almost sagged in relief. He slowed his approach until he was just behind the Oni—which was wild because this was his first time seeing one. He waited until she had gone before following after her and entering the room. He casually swept his gaze across the gathered Marines and was surprised—largely at the ranks, a couple of recruits, and a few higher up in the chain. Guess I'm the middle man. Graves thought.
He stood straight and popped a sharp salute. "Major Van Orden Graves, reporting as ordered." He smiled. "Pleasure to work with you sir."
Bluto let a soft sigh at June and Drake's overly enthusiastic behavior. The known captain wasn't very cheery as he pulled a map from a self in the office. He wasn't particularly mad, but there was caution and frustration in his body language as he casually uncurled the map across the table. "Sailors, I respect you for committing yourself to this mission. I see potential in you all. However, I would not take this mission lightly, and if I were you, I wouldn't consider this a pleasure. Still, you are all capable; I believe that. So!" Pressing the map flat, Bluto stood over the table. "Kenham Canyon has been radio silent for more than a month now. We are also not the first to try to make contact with the island. Our mission is to figure out what's happened to the island, try to reestablish a connection with the Marine Base if not retrieve assets, and, in a worst-case scenario, place a quarantine order on the island."
"I will take the lead on our expedition squad. I expect you, Ain, to be my scout and follow me in the front of the formation. Graves, I want you at the back of the formation guarding our flank. June, Drake, and Pele. I want you three in the center to prepare for potential obstacles or threats. We will approach the island east of the Shipyards at a small port and head further inland. Do any of you have any questions so far?" Bluto asked, scanning the sailors as he made one last statement. "You all should be prepared for threats, considering the amount of unknowns."
Ain clicked her heel against the ground and gave a solid salute to the Commander. "Aye, Sir! My eyes won't miss a thing." She spoke, accepting her position as scout under Bluto's command for this mission.
"If I may ask, what was the base's last report before we lost contact? Does it shed any light on what their situation might have been like, Sir?" She continued, figuring the information might provide some vital intel into what they're heading into.
"I have no questions but I do share the thought with Sissy Ain, liiiike, it would be crutial for the mission" June pointed out not even minding to change her posture at the moment, it seemed easy enough with the right organization though having to work with a man did disgust her, which she managed to control for now. At least she could lean on Pele for better communication.
Drake raised his hand slightly before speaking, his expression a mix of curiosity and seriousness. “Sir, do we have any details on the earlier expeditions? I mean, if none of them came back, did we at least recover anything? Like… ships, logs, or signs of a struggle? Anything that might give us an idea of what happened to them?”
He paused briefly, glancing at the others for a moment before adding, “It might help us figure out if we’re dealing with hostile forces, a natural disaster, or… something else entirely.”
"Uh, what if it was pirates?" Pele asked as she looked at the map, her eyes glancing at the locations with her bottle still in hand, "Maybe even one of those very scary ones I heard about." She paused for a moment. She had much confidence in her physical skills; however, ever since consuming a specific fruit, she had problems controlling her new power and feared that it might affect her performance. She took a sigh and was ready to explain her concerns to Bluto; her hand turned to glass and fused with the bottle she held. "Ah, someone help!" She yelled frantically, shaking her hand and motioning it to the other marines in the room.
Graves hummed in thought as he poured over the scant details available to them. When an island failed to report it usually meant something catastrophic happened. On rare occasions equipment failure was the culprit but those were few and far between. In his experience it was likely pirate activity or maybe a sea king, some freak weather phenomenon or one of the many wonders of the sea that were simply unexplainable.
Noticing the plight of his fellow Marine he racked his brain for anything he could do to help. After a moment he faced directly towards her, and shrugged as there was absolutely nothing he could do. "Eh, you'll figure it out. Hopefully before we get into some real trouble. Gonna be counting on you!" He said cheekily.
Crossing the distance, he approached the map, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses roaming all over it looking for any clue that might reveal anything about what they were going to face. When he found none, he shrugged his shoulders and shifted his attention back towards Captain Bluto. He smiled humorlessly as he regarded the captain, "I'm assuming that this isn't so simple as a pirate attack, or some kind of disaster is it, Captain?"
Bluto stood silently, allowing the team's questions to sink in. They all made good observations, and he agreed with some theories over others. Still, his information was limited, and false confidence could lead them into a dangerous trap. "Pele, try laying the bottle down and relaxing your senses into calm focus," he said, feeling the urgency of the moment as a flood of thoughts filled his mind. He was not fully aware of the commander's new skill set, but he chose to assume the best of the young marine.
"Antics aside, my knowledge is limited, but I have theories that could address your questions. The last report from the Marine base indicated an incident. They didn't elaborate, likely to avoid alarming the World Government. However, considering the industrial nature of Kenningham Canyon, I suspect it could be man-made. While I would like to eliminate the possibility of pirates, it still remains. The only traces we found from one of the expedition ships were a couple of floating barrels of rotting rations and several cracked planks with burn marks and carvings. It looks like an attack, but it was poorly executed. If these were pirates, why did they leave behind so much food?"
Bluto scratched his chin and stepped back from the map, hoping a new angle would reveal something. However, all he felt was irritation. "In all my service, this is one of the few times I can't find a pattern in this behavior."
"There is one more thing, but I initially wanted to spare you from the experience. Given the lack of information, it's important. Pulling a snail from a side table, Bluto placed it on the desk. Early reports indicated another communication, but the responders found it too incoherent to be considered a message." The captain attached the snail to a long-distance receiver. "Cover your ears." As he tuned the receiver, the snail's expression jolted into a trance-like state, its eyes opening painfully wide while it emitted a distorted and agonizing screech. The sound mixed feedback with a repetitive crackle and an almost human scream. Before it could overload, Bluto quickly shut off the receiver, allowing the poor creature to rest. Whatever caused such a noise was not normal. "I'm sorry, but this is all I have regarding the state of affairs."
Ain's stoic expression faultered at the noise, her ears folding down and pressing themselves against her head to block out the noise which seemed to resonate even after it had been turned off, like an echo bouncing around in her skull. All the same, The report of some sort of incident made her wonder if the incident in question was in some way man made. Maybe not by pirates at all but maybe some sort of World Government experiment gone wrong. She decided to keep her ideas to herself for now, better to wait and see if they could gather anything else. Jumping to conclusions with so little information would only make it harder for them to see the turth due to their own preconcieved bias toward their own theories.
"It isn't much to work with, but we're marines, we're used to working with less. So long as we remain cautious and vigilant, I'm sure we'll be able to figure out what's going on. Captain, it's an honor to work by your side. I'm ready to move out on your command." Ain spoke with professionalism, placing hand over heart and slightly bowing her head, an unofficial salute.
The noise was deafening, something she did not recommend to anyone that appreciated their ears, but aside from that the context is what made it more sinister, that was the only thing they could start working this mission with, a scream that was not recognized to belong to any living creature, June had goosebumps just at the thought, a hand moved to her hair brushing off some strands from her face to try and calm her nerves for a moment.
"That's one hell of a clue, so I don't think that gives us a lot of information but something to beware" June points out looking at Bluto but a moment later she sighs, why did she have to be dragged into this? The mission started looking like a hunt in her mind. "Let's get this over with yo, Whenever ya give the sign I'm ready to move...sir"
Graves closed his eyes as the screams echoed in his ears. He felt a pang of regret flood through his being, the familiar sting of listening to brothers in arms perish to an as of yet unknown threat. Shaking his head he sighed as he ran a gloved hand through his hair as his jaw clenched in fury. "Hey Captain? When we find whatever or whoever did this? What are the rules of engagement. We fightin to capture? Or kill?" He asked, with a slight edge creeping into his voice.
Drake flinched as the snail's screech tore through the room, his hands instinctively flying to cover his ears. Even after it was silenced, the sound lingered in his mind, sending a chill down his spine. He looked around at the others, noting their reactions—the calmness of Ain, the confidence of June, and the simmering anger in Graves.
When Graves spoke, his words hung heavy in the air, and Drake couldn't help but voice his own thoughts. "I... I don’t want to kill anybody," he said, his voice quieter than usual but firm. "If it is pirates, or whoever’s behind this, maybe we can bring them in alive. They could tell us what happened here, right? Killing them means losing that chance."