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BEYOND THE SHADOW YOU SETTLE FOR ❅ PART 2
BEYOND THE SHADOW YOU SETTLE FOR
Alarms blare and red alert lights flash and illuminate hallways. The intruders have either escaped the traps or avoided them altogether and are invading.
It still won't be easy for the Guardians. There are armed checkpoints to overcome and giant security doors to figure out how to unlock or break through.
Once they're past the initial security checkpoints, the place is a maze of hallways that contain cells with captured myths that need to be freed (some friendly and some unfriendly), offices with computers and tablets that can be hacked or stolen, science labs with myths being experimented on and technomagical devices of unknown purpose, archival rooms with useful (and potentially cursed) tomes and artifacts, and storage rooms with the plundered belongings of many myths captured over time.
Some of the magical artifacts and Prometheus devices can be used against their forces and used to help the captured myths.
For those that would like to be extra helpful and let others know where security forces are congregating (or to cause a little chaos) several redundant security rooms have screens showing video from closed circuit monitoring. Provided they knock out the guards in each room, they can potentially maneuver them to consoles for the fingerprint panels and retinal scanners that would allow them to unlock cell doors on many of the cell blocks.
Given that the the master unlock for all cells requires the base's Director's security bypass, it'll be useful if several groups do this if they want to mass unlock all the cell blocks.
Some captured myths will also have to be comforted. Others may need to be chased as they escape their cells, rush past, and go on a rampage.
And of course the myths will have to figure out what to do with the escaping staff that isn't security, all of them running for exit stairways and elevators to the outside world or to escape magical portals, whatever's closest and ensures the best chance of survival. Some of these staff members are simple office drones, handling the minutiae and bureaucracy of a large organization like this. Others are even lower on the organizational ladder, like the janitorial staff. But some like the base leadership, scientists, and guards, have a much more active hand in the treatment of the captured myths.
The more aggressive escaped myths will make a beeline for the base staff, to go after them in revenge. The Guardians will have to figure out what they want to do in response.
In any case, there are myths to be freed, artifacts to be pilfered, intel to be gathered, and decisions to be made.
This base of Project Prometheus is going down.
OOC PLOTTING POST
❅ Format: Use prose or actionspam as desired.
❅ Environment: Please feel free to use the plot as an open and flexible environment, and simply ask for anything the requires specifics or might affect the full facility so the mod can provide accurate intel and keep track of the evolving situation during the plot. Players should feel free to largely do what they want. If they want to access and manipulate certain aspects of security, question Prometheus npcs, information gather from captured myth PCs, etc, they can request to do so.
❅ NPCing: This part of the plot will have limited mod npcing, for moments people decide to do in the plot, like getting info from Prometheus npcs or breaking into and messing with security. There will be a thread to request either npcing or information to use in self-npcing from the mod. The mod will decide whether to npc or if players can just self-npc with provided info. The mod will automatically comment in after each round of PC tags unless asked to pause for more PC tags. The mod will use prose for npcing but players don't have to match.
❅ Powers: Now that they've escaped the trap rooms, everyone's powers will work as normal and all their devices and artifacts like the globes will work.
❅ Myths: You can assume rescued myths match their RL myth counterparts. If I need to use a myth later on and make them different from what's been established, we can handwave there are just variations within the same type of myths sometimes. The only thing I'd like to limit is two things:
1) Using some of the big individual myths in mythology in case they need to be used later or I have plans for them. Specific gods and named folk figures, etc. But myths that are just general, like general nymphs, brownies, fae, etc, you can kinda go ham with.
2) Try to be respectful and avoid using myths that still feature heavily into IRL belief systems and cultures like wendigo. Please be thoughtful and maybe do a quick google about whether something would be offensive. There are plenty of other myths from ancient societies to use with less baggage, like creatures from Greek mythology.
❅ Collars: Rescued myths will have power blocking collars that need to be broken or the rune design on them must be scratched when they're freed, to give their powers back.
❅ Resources: Elle will be their man in the chair acting as a coordinator for the mission on the games. Players can handwave that important information was conveyed to or from Elle.
Mini-globes: Mini snow globes the size of marbles will have been given to everyone to use to transport myths out as well as emergency transport to the Pole. For those who don't carry storage with their normal outfits, they'll have been given fanny packs to carry them.
Devices: Courtesy of Miguel, there are mini bombs; spy bots that can fly and scout ahead, transmitting video to their comms; and elemental handheld devices can use to cause localized effects of extreme freeze or extreme heat. The latter is hot enough to melt the door looks to the thick cell doors.
Magic crystals: These can float over the hand to guide the Guardians towards other myths, as well as provide the location of their home habitats so Guardians can tell the snowglobes to right location to transport them home.
we love to see this
Irritating. Not worrying. At all. Of course. No fear for Crowley's safety, no anxiety for the remote possibility that maybe somewhere in those text messages, Aziraphale overstepped or offended. Certainly not. Crowley is obviously fine and so if anyone is offended or should be offended, it's clearly Aziraphale.
Which works out well enough, really, because catching that split-second of eye contact and intentionally hasty retreat puts an offended damper on the usual twitterpated sort of gratitude that always comes with Crowley playing the knight in shining armor.
Offense and only offense and no other sorts of emotions that Aziraphale doesn't want to feel or sit in or process!! Obviously! ]
I beg your pardon-
[ Which is to say that whatever book he was absorbed in is all but forgotten as he power-walks through the door after Crowley. Sounds whomst, he doesn't know them.
As though he can't take care of a little Nuckelavee! Isn't capable! (As though he even remotely thinks that's what Crowley was thinking.)
Every day this angel is so neurotic and for what. ]
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So he's attempting to keep it contained while he decides what to do next, a task that isn't too difficult, considering the sheer size of him. The Nuckelavee is encircled by the bulk of his form, biting and scratching ineffectually at his scales.
His head whips around when he hears the door open again, and there's a distinct moment where he looks a bit like a dog that knows it's done something he shouldn't, despite the fact he's a monstrosity of teeth, fire, and scales.]
Angel. Go back to the library.
[The words don't truly come verbally, they can't when he's like this, but he knows Aziraphale will understand him regardless.]
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All that time on Earth with humans, of course, there's not exactly a regular occasion to unfold this much. It's very different in person from catching a glimpse on another plane here or there.
He gives Crowley a quick glancing-over-- as much of him as he can see from this vantage point, at least. A quick check, a little self-reassurance that Crowley doesn't look wounded, that he's got his present situation more or less under control at the moment. He seems fine enough, flash of visible guilt aside.
If Crowley looks a little guilty, then it's safe to assume whatever issue he has probably isn't with something Aziraphale did or said. At least not directly.
For the person he knows best out of anyone, this demon is so impossible to understand sometimes. How does he know what Crowley won't tell him?, he thinks, like the biggest possible hypocrite in the universe. ]
Oh, you'd like me to avoid myself for you. I suppose that would take quite a bit off your plate, wouldn't it.
[ Well too bad. He's even more out of the library than he was before. He's going directly for the demonic vicinity. Not touching, because he's a little worried about whether that would damage Crowley without the trappings of a human corporation layered over this form, but present. ]
Only I thought you might need another set of hands.
[ The kind that can operate a little snowglobe. Or generally do anything that requires hands. ]
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He's trying to protect Aziraphale from himself, not from some fucked up horse.
The Nuckelavee makes a horrible, wailing noise, trying to climb over the bulk of Crowley's body to get to Aziraphale, and without missing a beat, Crowley turns his head to utter a low growl of warning. Ancient and terrifying, the sort of sound that would likely leave a human shivering in fear. The Nuckelavee whimpers and skitters backward, huddling into itself as far away from Crowley's form as it can.
Now he can talk to Aziraphale. Briefly, at least.]
It isn't safe out here. Not even for you, Aziraphale.
[Flames lick up in his mouth as he speaks Aziraphale's name, and he bites down on them, waiting for the holy burn to pass. Lesson learned. Don't say an angel's name while like this.
He's ignoring the comment about hands, despite absolutely needing the help of someone with opposable thumbs, because sometimes the horrors are also contrarian little bitches.]
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No one feeling quite settles. Aziraphale tries to just sort of. Box them back up for now.
(Is he hurting Crowley by standing here? Would he tell him if he were? Is he trying to say it without having to say it? Is he getting a bad grade in loving a demon for this right now?)
He glances around. Looks back to Crowley.
Unboxes the confusion again. ]
You're out here.
[ You're out here, so I'm arguably safer than anyone in this building right now. You're out here, and if it's so unsafe for everybody, even an angel, why would I turn around instead of trying to keep you safe? Check and mate.
Human language is so unfulfilling sometimes. Everything can mean a hundred things at once at the same time that it sounds like it only means one or two. ]
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That's the point.
[The last thing he wants is to have to actually spell out the fact that he's not sure he can keep himself in check; that might involve admitting why there's danger, beyond the obvious.
He was hoping that Aziraphale would just understand the implication and return to his books, but he really should have known that he wouldn't be that lucky.
There's a grumble, a huff, and a few yellow, slitted eyes finally peer in Aziraphale's direction.]
Do you have a globe?
[If they can get this damn Nuckelavee out of here, maybe Aziraphale will get bored and go back to his books. Might as well get this over with.]
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Crowley is objectively very capable of being dangerous in the way that a lot of things are objectively dangerous. Dangerous to Aziraphale? To an extent that Aziraphale is concerned about it?
Humans wouldn't have coined the phrase "there's a first time for everything" if they were privy to this relationship. In his opinion.
So Aziraphale, of course, very maturely ignores the first point for now. If that's going to be a discussion, why have it in front of the Nuckelavee? It smells atrocious. ]
I do. [ He fishes around in one of his pockets for it. ] I suppose there's no particularly ethical way to handle cases like these.
[ It isn't good to set it loose, strictly speaking. It certainly isn't good to kill it for the poor fortune of being held captive.
At an impasse like this one, Aziraphale prefers the option that doesn't involve directly getting their hands dirty, though. Hence largely being drawn to the libraries and artifacts, or to the cells releasing Myths that are more naturally reasonable. ]
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This is likely why Crowley is a demon and Aziraphale is still an angel.]
Send it to Orkney, s'hardly anyone in Orkney.
[Not that he cares about the ethics, but since Aziraphale does, he'll make a consideration for that fact and offer a solution that might make Aziraphale feel at least a tiny bit better about the situation.]
Toss the orb right in, I'm too big for it to take me.
[That's one advantage.]
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Suppose it isn't dreadful to have that much be consistent no matter the reality.
Whatever that semi-relief says about him. At least he can count on Crowley to understand. ]
May as well. We can always check back in. [ Being able to say that vaguely ominously, something Aziraphale has long trained for. Saying it to make himself feel better, something he's trained even longer for. He hasn't got much else on anyway. Plenty of opportunity to keep tabs.
And the sooner this is done, the sooner he can get to the bottom of this surliness, obviously.
He tosses the globe into the Snake Container. Needless to say it's as unathletic a throw as anyone could manage. Aziraphale cares not for looking cool at sports. ]
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Maybe he can swing by the Isle of Skye and pick up some Talisker while he's there.
The lack of athleticism isn't an issue when it's a well-contained target; Crowley watches Aziraphale carefully as the snowglobe does its thing, just in case he's close enough to get dragged in. The only thing that happens is the Nuckelavee disappearing off to Orkney.
It's a relief.]
Now will you go back into the library?
[It can't hurt to try again.]
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There's no way Crowley is-- getting tired of his company and trying not to say so, now that they've been able to spend so much more time with each other? Surely? Despite having other options??? The honeymoon isn't over before Aziraphale has even managed to woo him, let alone put a human marriage on the table?
No. Well. Not yet, at least. No.
It's less annoyance than agitation that Crowley's putting out. Bit of strain, bit of being frightened and cross about having to feel frightened.
Aziraphale gets an inkling. But it's a ridiculous inkling, he personally thinks. ]
If that's the tone you're taking about it, no. I think I won't. [ He sets his jaw and lifts his chin in standard "being a stubborn old goat about something" practice. He'd flounce into a chair if he had one.
Even if he really would like to get back up to his elbows in reading material to figure out what's most worth bringing back to the North Pole. It's a matter of priorities. ]
If that's causing any issue for you, of course, you're quite welcome to tell me.
[ But he sees no burning of flesh or spirit caused by his very proximity in the meantime.
Which is a bit relieving itself. ]
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Stupid, stubborn angel.]
Look at me.
[At the horror of him; scales and claws and burning embers. The scent of a just-lit match and something sharper, ozone but not, the scent that would cling to an angel, but twisted and wrong. A physical manifestation of all the awful, cloying, cruel things that Crowley holds in himself, because that's what a demon is, no matter how much time he spends around humans, no matter how much he distances himself from Hell.
Wanting is a cruel, ugly thing, too. He understands that Aziraphale loves him, but he can't — he wouldn't understand, the way Crowley wants.
He doesn't want to say this. He needs to say this.]
You're not safe from me, angel.
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He feels out of his depth, if he's being honest with himself just this once. He doesn't want to make Crowley properly upset or frightened or angry, of course, he never wants that if he can help it. Only he doesn't--
He doesn't feel right about leaving him, either. For myriad reasons.
Oh, he's never been very good at these things. ]
I'm always looking at you. [ That's safe enough to say, he thinks. True in every sense that it can be true, but plausibly deniable as a very dense, oblivious thing someone would say to someone else. A verbal exit sign, an option. ] It's how I know I'm as safe from you as you are from me.
[ Net zero. Push and pull. It's just the mathematics of the thing, isn't it? As much as he feels like he's missing something, that's still true. ]
Are you that worried that you'll try something?
[ Try being the operative word. ]
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I'm always looking at you. Said like some mild comment on the weather and not a sentence that shakes Crowley down to his core. I'm always looking at you. For fuck's sake. Crowley has to wonder whether he understands what he's saying, if Aziraphale knows what it does to him, when he gives him this hope. Does he realize how easily he alights on the one thing to say that underlines everything Crowley wants?
If nothing else had been said, he could have taken the time to tuck those words away somewhere into his useless heart for safekeeping, but he can't even have that.
How is he supposed to answer that question? Without giving too much away? He might as well cut himself open like an offering, let Aziraphale play haruspex for the evening. He can read the confessions in viscera. It would be less mortifying than speaking them aloud.]
Fine.
[So he doesn't.]
Where you you like to go, then?
[He can't win the fight when he can't even articulate his side of the argument, so there's no damn point in trying.]
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Humans who deal with the supernatural are more likely to have some sort of holy materiel on hand than anything else, in his experience. He's better equipped to intercept those sorts of things. ]
Much obliged. [ And as a token of gratitude for his favorite person in the universe indulging him yet again, he won't say now come and stay cooped up in the archival room with me. Aziraphale, personally, could think of far worse things than being cooped up with Crowley in any form. But he has to imagine that Crowley would find that too-- claustrophobic right now. Given his safety concerns.
So Aziraphale can always circle back to books and artifacts later. Right now he's all out of the snippiness that he stepped out here with. ]
Let's make certain all the cells on this block have been properly evacuated, shall we?
[ That's useful and worth doing. Something that can be focused on. Lots of corridors and open air. ]
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He can't quite keep himself from a series of annoyed grumbles, a byproduct of this form, but he starts moving anyway, snaking his head through the corridor first, frowning to himself as a thought occurs.]
Do you — [Another grumble, this one replacing the sort of hum he'd normally rely on in order to by himself time.] D'you think you could hop on without it hurting? Might be safer if you're close.
[If Aziraphale is going to insist on staying nearby, the least Crowley can do is keep him from getting snatched out from under him by something terrible.
It'll test his own self-control, but that's... fine. It's fine. He can handle it.]
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All the fuss he's ever kicked up about not being nice or kind or good, but here he slithers, being bothered to worry about Aziraphale's safety. Of all things. Fussing, even, one could almost say. Could definitely say. Might say later, if they still have that drink, just to see him make a face.
There's something about it. Might be safer if you're close. It wedges in somewhere behind Aziraphale's ribcage, a not-unpleasant bubble. ]
You make a fair point.
[ He thinks that it might actually be true in this world, is the thing. Unequivocally. That they're safer together than apart. Safer to feel safe with Crowley. To work to try to keep Crowley safe. For the first time, the impulse and the feelings don't well up the same hypothetical worries as usual. They don't even have Heaven or Hell here.
Not that-- not that he would ever feel unsafe about Heaven. Not for his own sake. Obviously. He's an angel. He only ever regards Heaven as safe, in the grand scheme of things.
It's just that knowing Heaven is safe is functionally the same as his understanding that Heaven has always loved him.
So this really is nice, he thinks. The Crowley version of feeling secure has always been his favorite version. ]
Only if it doesn't hurt you, mind. [ He always has room for a little bit of worrying no matter how many other worries he's not having to deal with. ] You'll feel a hand in a moment. It's only me.
[ Aziraphale even gives Crowley a few moments to register words before he lays a careful experimental hand on him. So considerate wow. Better to test than to jump on the offer full-boar, after all. If he did real damage, he'd never forgive himself. ]
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But it's the best option, despite being stupid. He'll handle whatever physical or emotional effects come from having Aziraphale this close when he's shed his human shape. Better than Aziraphale getting hurt.
So he drops down as low as he can, lifting a wing with the clear intention that Aziraphale should find a spot beneath it, since that will be the most protected spot.]
S'fine, angel, it's not going to hurt. [It doesn't, not really. The second that Aziraphale lays a hand on him, he knows it would be easier if it simply hurt. It sings, instead. A low buzz under his skin that he's never going to forget.] See? No one's exploded.
[It isn't as though he's going to admit that he likes it.]
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[ 😐
Fine he'll just go back to worrying and fussing internally then. (A lie.) Why is Crowley never exactly as concerned about Crowley as he is!
But fine. No harm has been done. That's a relief. So Aziraphale will oblige and climb aboard, up under Crowley's lifted wing. And he will bravely resist the desire to play with Crowley's feathers. Or groom them or basically anything that would mean getting to have his hands on them for a while.
Because he is very polite. ]
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Once he feels Aziraphale is secure, he tucks his wing properly around him and starts down the hall, claws clacking on the concrete.]
Are you going to fuss if I eat any humans?
[Best to know ahead of time, since he can dispose of them non-lethally if Aziraphale is going to be a baby about it.]
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They're both very normal and calm about all this, really. ]
I would prefer that you don't eat any humans, yes. [ If it's unavoidable for Crowley's well-being at some point, he'll leave that shade of wiggle room about it. ] They're hardly worth going to all that trouble.
[ Eating humans... won't enjoy a lovely tiramisu at a nice cafe but he'll go on a raid and eat humans even though they're bound to taste terrible. Rude. ]
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Miracles are what's trouble. Teeth are easy.
[He can knock them out or teleport them away with magic, but magic isn't as free to use here as it was back home, and since he's already in this shape, his teeth and claws are essentially free to use as he wants.]
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Aziraphale considers this for a couple of moments, quiet in his little super special nestled-in zone for super special angels only. Sort of weighs things out in the grand scheme as they pertain to the only real priority: what's likely to keep Crowley reliably safest through the night. ]
I suppose I could hardly be cross about self-defense measures. Most of them aren't a pleasant sort. [ They pull arms off of creatures and use them as puzzles in little trap rooms. If there's moral wiggle room, it's barely detectable.
In any case, Crowley would hardly go out of his way to target humans who weren't doing harm (or trying to). He'll have his own priorities. ]
If you could-- [ It's silly, probably, to make requests. Selfish. Crowley didn't want him along in the first place. And Crowley is Crowley, so it probably doesn't need to be requested at all.
But Aziraphale's started the statement, so he sort of needs to finish the statement. ] Try not to draw it out.
[ There are already too many sounds happening, many of which are sounds of suffering. A little mercy, as a treat.
Plus, also, importantly, Aziraphale simply personally doesn't want to hear the extended cut anyway. Gross. ]
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They've been torturing sentient beings for months, if not years.
[A pleasant sort. This is the kind of bullshit that Hell would think acceptable, or maybe it's worse, because at least in Hell there's an argument to be made that the souls trapped down there deserve their fate.
No one could say the same for some of the myths trapped here.]
It'll be as quick and painless as possible. M'not an animal.
[He isn't going to play with his food. Inspiring a little terror can be satisfying, especially when he's inspiring that terror in people who deserve it, but he isn't here to toy with shitty humans.
It's a rescue mission. He can stay focused.]
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Well, at least they're in agreement. Always good to be on the same page. ]
No. No, of course you're not. [ Awkward gay pat of probably-apology. Or support. Or something. ] Fussing a bit, I suppose.
[ What's more worth fussing over than anything that's going on with Crowley? Nothing. Not right now, certainly.
Something just feels-- off. Unsafe. Somewhere. It's difficult to pinpoint how, still. He probably shouldn't be channeling that into nitpicking how Crowley does unpleasant and necessary business. Will Aziraphale remember that next time they're in a similar situation? Almost definitely not. ]
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i feel like there needs to be a cw on this tag but hell if i know what it'd be
out here like cw blood and that gomez+morticia vibe
cw angel on human violence that crowley is NOT being normal about
i for one don't blame him
i mean, who could?
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