Scenario Entitled: HomecomingAn impromptu team was secretly organized, and set out for the purpose of finding and rescuing abducted Militiaman Tandem. The journey, with its horrors and triumphs, may be available in the archives in time. For now Dear Reader, there is simply the denouement of it all.
Characters:
Rooke, Council Girl, still coming to grips with what the team has experienced.
Jeremy, MD, and philosopher, attempting to inject some intellectual consideration.
Ash, recently ex-Coalition specialist, bringing his unique perspective to the mission.
Tandem, Militia brainiac turned maniac, rescued from supernatural captivity'n'torture.
Point, Brewster, and Carl (NPCs), half of a helpful team of D-Bee adventurers.
Location: Roadway Within Tolkeen City Limits, and City Gates Checkpoint Station
Date: Joon, 107 P.A.
Rooke sits back as the APC pulls into gear, crossing her arms over her legs. "I dunno.. I dunno right now.." she sulks. "We can't just be caught unprepared for each question that pops up."
Jeremy eases down into a seat slowly, then turns back to regard Rooke with a half-way pleasant smile. "I have enough lies in my life. I fully intend to tell the truth, if asked of it. I'll volunteer nothing -- but if they ask how I happened to so casually lose several thousand dollars worth of medical equipment...I shall merely state that it was in the aid and recovery of Will."
The bay doors close up and seal. The sounds of the engine reverberate throughout the APC cabin as Carl revs the engine. With a sudden jerk the six wheeler pulls off onto the road.
Tandem leans back into the seat, though not of his own accord. He seems to sink into the fleece jacket and cast his eyes warily to each person in his line of vision.
Rooke mutters, "You've picked a fine time to suddenly decide to lead an honest life." She seems unwilling to speak at length about anything in particular, and leans up against the wall of the truck, letting her head bump slightly against it as it goes over stones in the road.
Ash sighs deeply and sits back against the wall of the APC, lifting a rifle to finger it absentmindedly. After a moment he blinks and leans forward to look at Rooke, "Oh, you mentioned you wanted to try and get some information off this rifle. Feeling up to it now?"
Jeremy looks back up at Rooke, eyes flashing still with some kind of newly revived light. "Oh, I don't know," he replies gently, sinking into the seat. "Nothing like a bit of a near-death experience to make you a better person. That, and the sudden sinking sensation that you're nothing but a spark in the grand scheme of things. Some of us are matches, perhaps...the best of us, nothing but small explosions. I might as well live life well."
Tandem locks his vision onto the rifle as if it was the most interesting thing in the cosmos. His form bounces up and down with the bumps and ruts in the road the APC clears, still watching the sleek weapon that is no doubt fully loaded and just screaming to be used. His hands move forward and grip his bony knees, his knuckles going white.
Rooke grits her teeth and murmurs, "Don't be an ass, Doc. This matter deals with what's down in that cavern, and what could be unleashed if it's uncovered again. What possible motivation aside from pure greed would dictate that you tell this truth to others?" She glances at Ash's rifle, and holds her hands out for it, looking doubtful.
Point makes a retching sound and a bright blue petal sails through the air from out under the locker bin where he has taken refuge. Moments later a 'phpppt' sound issues hollowly from his position.
Ash obligingly hands the rifle over to Rooke, and turns his head to regard Jeremy with a cool expression. "Indeed, I'm interested in hearing the answer to that myself."
Jeremy looks back up at Rooke...looking momentarily wounded. In fact, it sort of...sticks, like undercooked spagetti. After a blink or two, he replies in a slightly softer voice. "Are you kidding me? Listen, from all that I've heard so far -- it seems that several of these 'black areas', or whatever you call them -exist-." He shakes his head slowly, a little grim, before he glances back up, "If we informed the Academy of Magic about this thing -- they could better arm themselves about whatever that...-thing- is." He looks back up, flashing his almost childishly wounded smile. "I personally think that the greatest dangers lurk in the shadows -- just out of perception. What do we know about that -thing- down there? Nothing. What if it /can/ hurt us?"
Tandem twists sideways and moves both his hands towards the weapon Ash handed to Rooke. Nothing lightning quick mind you, just a slow mummy-like fumbling of stiff appendages that have the coordination of a child. "...Big sleep."
Jeremy peers at Tandem with a suddenly intent gaze -- his lack of protest indicating that he's probably more concerned about the sluggishness of the movements than about the direction of them. Looks like there's someone up for a little bit of physical therapy...
Rooke turns the rifle over in her hands, watching Tandem thoughtfully as he reaches for the weapon. "I dunno, Doc.. what the bigger mistake would be.." (My god.. hasn't anyone caught that old Pre-Rifts movie Aliens? Scientists bad! Scientists very bad!) "What if we make a truce.. play it safe for now.. until we can find someone in the Academy, or wherever, who we know will approach this in a cautious manner?" She keeps hold of the rifle even if Tandem gets his paws on it, and shifts a bit, looking intently down at the firearm.
Jeremy peers up at Rooke, then flashes another open-faced smile at her. Still...tinges of hurt linger in his expression. "Of course. I wouldn't declare it at a press conference, or any such like that...no, that would just be foolish." He gazes at the weapon for a moment, then back up at Rooke. "Scientists can be idiots. Even magical ones. We'll play it low key...for now...I just fully intend on being out with it, at one point or another. Too important not to..."
Tandem shuffles against Rooke in his feeble attempts to gain possession of the rifle. "Full metal jacket.." He drones in a cold voice and stares at the rifle with red tinged eyes. He redoubles his rather non agile efforts to have the weapon. "Gray matter and a hole in one." His feet begin to tap against the steel floor in an agitated fashion.
Rooke says with distracted reluctance, "I'm inclined to agree with that bit.. can't just sit and wait for someone /else/ to dig it up, I guess. Maybe.. I can find something out about it.. with this rifle.. or that bit of basket I picked up." She doesn't gesture, but the chunk of wicker basket is sitting near the back of the barren APC. "Now.. Will, stoppit.. lemme just concentrate here.."
Tandem withdraws his arms to lay upon his thin legs. His forehead develops lines and creases as a truely chastised expression forms on his face. He bows his head and affixes his eyes on his calloused hands.
Ash takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. In a change of tack, he turns to Jeremy and questions conversationally, "Did we ever ascertain exactly what time and day it is?"
Jeremy looks back up at Ash, smiling pleasantly, "Not I, I'm afraid. I've other things on my mind..." He retreats back into silence at the first available opportunity.
Tandem mutters from his huddled position near Rooke. "Nineteen sixty-nine...sir. Rainy as hell sir." he sobs quite unmanly-like. "I asked for Mephisto and got bozo the clown." He covers his face with his hands and whimpers.
Ash sits in silence, watching Rooke do that voodoo she does so well. His face conveys a mixture of cautiousness, curiosity, and some other, less defined air.
Jeremy lapses into his own sort of peculiar silence...not grim. Just brooding over something or another, distractedly watching Tandem -- a little removed from the whole mess.
Rooke ruminates over the rifle for several long moments, her head bowed. However, by her occasional flinches and the irregularity of her breathing, she's obviously up to something. Finally, she lays the rifle flat across her lap, and looks around, blinking dazedly. "I..." she starts uncertainly, then hastily hands the rifle back over to Ash. "..I don't know why I ever volunteer to do these things," she murmurs a little brokenly, her grey eyes haunted by visions of another's life. "He was just some guy.. went in with the rest to bomb the heck out of that village, orders from some higher-ups. They were going to blast up the monk-guys, then blow up the mines, that's what the sarge said," she adds un easily. "Then the mages got them."
Ash speaks softly, a distant look settling into his eyes. "It's always disturbing when you realize that the enemy is just a man." He breaks off and blinks twice, looking away at a point somewhere over Rooke's right shoulder.
Brewster opens up the skylight and calls down amid electronic twitters, "The sentries've been keeping an eye on us ever since we got closer to the walls, guys. There ain't no sneakin' in from here... Carl? Ease up on those turns, ya dummy.. almost threw me back there!" Up in the driver's compartment, beyond the curtain, the ever mysterious Carl bounces in his(?) seat.
Tandem settles into a huddled ball of self absorbed gloom and doom. He wraps himself up in an invisible cloak of concern for his inner abstract thoughts and becomes oblivious to stimuli outside his person.
Rooke shakes her head slowly, puzzled. "Yes.. but, why were they so intent on blowing the mines... could it be they also knew about the 'black space'..?" She glances to the side at Tandem and leans over to sling an arm around his shoulder. "Poor Will.. poor fellow.. who's this Mephisto?" she coddles gently.
Ash snaps back to reality at the sound, and flashes a brief, comforting smile to Rooke. "Thanks for checking on it, Rooke." He stands from his seat and walks to the front of the APC, resting one hand on the wall. With the relentless movements of a man driven by a force he can no longer resist, he ducks his head behind the curtain separating the front from the back, calling out, "How close are we, Carl?"
Tandem shirks away from Rooke like a belligerent child. His lower lip pouts out and he mumbles, "Nobody special. A big faker is what he was." He glowers as his speech becomes more and more articulate. "All of it is and I'll rid this place of all of them." He nods slowly, becoming quite adamant on this train of thought.
In the driver's compartment: As Ash's head breaks the cover of curtains shielding Carl from clear view, the driver also turns 'his' head a bit too far to be comfortable, and looms out of 'his' seat to peer at Ash. Eyes like round dots of white paint add highlight to very bland, plastic features. The facial cavities, mouth, nostils, ears, are nonexistant, glossed over by that same plastic exterior. A buff-colored jumpsuit covers a body that is obviously mannequinish, as stiff plastic hands peep out from the cuffs to hold the steering mechanism. A jaunty, battered cowboy hat perches on his bald head. The crash test dummy just stares unblinkingly at Ash for a moment, then shifts back into the front seat, looking ahead.
Ash pulls his head back from inside the curtain, a thoughtful, and quite disturbed look upon his face. Slowly, wordlessly, he makes his way back to his sea and sits down, leaning back.
Rooke frowns distressedly, and keeps her arm across Tandem's shoulder, giving him a rough, one-armed, side-body hug, before looking up to see Ash returning from his little investigation. With slightly raised eyebrows, she sympathetically smiles at him, and says, "I'll tell you more later, after I've pieced together the images. Then there's the villager's side of things.." She nods to the chunk of basket, then sits back to wait out the trip, trying to break Tandem out of his sullen mindset.
Ash nods slowly, shaking his head and chuckling softly. "Thanks Rooke. Ah, looks like we've arrived. It seems the party is about to start. I hope you all slept well, I think we could be in for quite a bit of questioning."
The APC comes to a jerking halt and after a mit of a muffled discussion outside the vehicle, the rear bay door is lowered. A few of Tolkeen's gate guards appear at the entrance of the door and peer in. One of them begins his offical jargon when he notices the inhabitants. He nods curtly to the recognized citizens of import and says hurriedly, "Excuse me, mandatory check and all...uh, carry on." He waves to something out of sight and the bay door closes up, the APC jerking into motion once more.
With a quiet sigh and a bit of a stretch, Jeremy rises from his place. "Well," he notes quietly, "The worst is behind us..." He eases the bag full of armor up onto his shoulder, and smiles pleasantly. "We've done fine work here, you know. Fine work." With that, he waits to be able to disembark within town.
The APC rumbles into the city and stops at a nearby checkpoint garage.
Rooke sighs with a bit of gloom of her own, even as she rocks Tandem gently at her side. "I'm gonna need to cover for Ribal.. and explain why almost all the weapons we requisitioned are... gone."
Ash nods sympathetically and leans back in his seat, a resigned look on his face. "Yes, I think they'll have some unpleasant questions for me as well. You can keep that Firebreather, if that'll help. At least you'll have something to give back to them. Somehow I don't think they will fire you."
Tandem still makes tiny protests at the close contact that Rooke is enforcing on him. He chews on his bottom lip and still seems quite grouchy. "Nothin doing...Gonna frag them and rid the world of them. It's the only -honest- thing to do." Tandem snarls and struggles without much conviction behind the action.
Jeremy just stands where he is...holding onto a wall with one hand. With a hint of amusement, he notes, "I've just lost /so/ much in medical supplies. Heavens -- this has been quite the wasteful trip, hasn't it...? What a mess..."
Rooke pats Tandem's shoulder obliviously, and decides, "I'm gonna have a car brought around.. get Will brought to the Militia infirmary before the press gets wind of this.. I suggest you two keep a fairly low profile until we can make a united front for any questions," she adds. "Brewster..? I'll contact you once I've checked this basket out.. maybe find out where Ribal's gone to... maybe." She doesn't sound as if she holds much hope. She looks out the bay door to a radio phone hooked up to the wall of the checkpoint building, and pauses. Her glance shifts back to her travel companions of four days turned two weeks, expression warming.
Brewster says with some confidence through the open skylight, "I got a feeling in my gut he's okay." He then makes preparations to dismount the vehicle and see to it's checking in and mandatory scans.
Jeremy just leans half-against the wall, smiling at Rooke lightly as she glances at him. "Well...this is it, is it? Where we break up, I mean...?" He falls into a somewhat awkward silence...then bites his lip lightly. "Walk away," he states a little bit more softly, cheeks unwarmed even by the faint pinkish hue that creeps into them. "I...it's been an honor."
Tandem's eyes go round as saucers at the mention of anything even remotely sounding like tabloids. He shakes his head back and forth rapidly. "I want to go home. They're -in- the hospitals and the parks." His eyes move suspiciously to a nearby guard and he shudders.
Point inches out from under the empty locker bin, the earlier bulge absent from his belly. His tongue flicks out rapidly and he approaches the four humanoid beings. He looks up oddly at Rooke and emits his familiar 'Phpppt' sound in a number of different speeds. One of his head tufts wiggles and flits crazily before he turns and heads towards Brewster.
Ash pushes up from his seat, coming to a standing position and adjusting his armor, for the last time in a while with any luck. He extends a gloved hand toward Jeremy, "Jeremy, thanks for giving me a chance. We've had our differences this trip, but I'd like to think I can call you friend. There aren't too many I can do that with." He breaks off there, for the handshake.
Rooke turns a bit away as Ash adds his sentiments to the parting moment, and watches him quietly out of the corner of her eye while waiting for Jeremy's response.
Jeremy takes Ash's hand firmly, shaking it and extending a gregarious smile. "I'm sure we've had our differences -- but, yes...tested in fire, we can call this a friendship." He extracts his hand gently, then strokes it through his hair ever so slowly.
Ash then turns to face Rooke. Taking a deep breath, he says, "Rooke...I'm glad we were able to bring back your friend. Thank you...you've done more for me than I think you realize. I...I'll see you soon, I'm sure." He ends the stumbling speech at that point, rather abruptly.
The smile fades some as he watches Ash speak his heartfelt thanks to Rooke. A bit of the irrational Jeremy peeks his head out -- after all, who does he think he is? She's his forever, whether she likes it or not. But, of course, it turns somewhat guilty as she comes towards him...
Rooke releases Tandem from his icky-girl bondage, if for a little while. "Ash.." she starts, cocking her head towards him, narrowing her eyes a bit in a bemused expression, unable to put to words her thoughts about this man. Finally, all she does say is, "I'll have the next show's script at your door as soon the copies come in. That way.. we can be sure to run into each other.. hey?"
Ash smiles warmly and nods, relief washing over his blunt features, if tinged with a bit of disappointment. "Thanks Rooke, I appreciate it. I'll look forward to reading it."
Then she leans out to lay her hand on Jeremy's shoulder. "I won't say it's been a total delight, Doc.. but.. I'm glad you came.. glad as hell." She lets her hand slide down his flannel arm and settle into his own palm, holding there and squeezing warmly. "You.. really saved me in that tunnel.. you know?" she murmurs, face glowing with a sincere, for-once-open smile for him.
Jeremy turns back to Rooke to offer out his own smile. A slender hand grips hers tightly, then releases slightly. "Nonsense," he replies, voice getting a little bit older, a little bit more wistful, "Nonsense, Rooke. We saved each other down there...we did. We should lean on each other more often -- we could make a hell of a team, you know." He flashes a more warmed smile, offering her a somewhat helpless shrug. "I'm glad I came, too, Rooke. Honestly, I am...I needed this alot. It's a purification of sorts -- I know you've heard this a thousand times before from me. But I feel it true. I'm a cleaner man for this...and I'm glad we can sort of...start over. You and I." With that, he cuts it short, smile fading a notch or two. He still holds tight to her hand, though, almost for fear that if he lets go -- /all/ of this will be a dream. Purified or not -- he's still a fairly disturbed man.
Rooke looks down at Jeremy's delicate surgeon's hand, wrapped against her own, then reaches out for Ash's hand with her other, warm palm clasping to his. Ahh well, you know what they say, 'warm hands, cold heart'. She lets out a sigh of air, laughing a little at herself, there holding hands with the two fellows.
Jeremy peers for a long moment...first at his hand in Rooke's, then at Rooke's hand in Ash's. He looks at the fellow...then cracks a somewhat wry little smile. "Mmmm," he intones mildly, offering his other slender hand out to Ash without another moment of thought, "shall we complete this little circle...?" He then flashes up a somewhat foxlike gaze. "Or...would it be called a triangle? Regardless of what it is...here we are. And...we're thankful."
Ash squeezes Rooke's hand gently, and quirks his eyebrow briefly, before taking Jeremy's hand. With the barest hint of irony touching his smile, he nods to the doctor. "Well put, Jeremy."
Rooke stands silent there with her hands linked with the two, as they complete the circle-triangle on their side/corner. Whether there's any true power in numerology, or whether the things that saved their lives and the life of Will, were simple, human values like loyalty, honour, and valour, for this quiet moment together in safety and friendship, there is thankfulness. Rooke looks at the two in turn, smiling a low, small, secret, absolutely beautiful smile. Just for that moment.
Jeremy inclines his head to Ash in a motion reminiscent of a fencer from more civilized times, who gave the Salut to his opponent before he proceeded to puncture several vital organs with a hopelessly slender blade. For, in the times to come, Jeremy will probably be a hopelessly unsavable bastard. But, for now he's the civilized gentleman -- just pleased to be alive, healthy, clean-shaven, and amongst friends. He grips Ash's hand a bit more tightly, then does the same to Rooke's. Those slender hands of his, the fraternal twins, are hardly strong enough to injure. Just enough to supply a bit of knowledge that he is there. He's alive, and this is real. He turns to Rooke...and flashes a smile that practically /beams/ all kinds of positive energies. If only one had some manner of crystal to wave at them, one would be set for all of existence.
Tandem crosses his arms and tucks his hands under his armpits. He hobbles off towards the Checkpoint station with a determined look on his face, albeit a grouchy expression to say the least. He plods one foot after another in a crazy shuffle that looks geriatric at best.
The two Militia guards near the Checkpoint station watch Tandem's approach warily. His turtle-like progress seeming to confuse them more than anything. One of them cracks a joke to the other but the other armed guard doesn't seem to find much humor in it.
Jeremy appears, most notably, to be completely ignorant of Tandem sneaking away. That may prove to be a problem in the immediate future -- but thinking about that is too close to plotting. And he'll have to plot plenty in the days to come. For now, he'll breathe.
Ash merely stands, gripping the hands of the pair beside him, a warm smile lighting up his otherwise bland and vaugely unpleasant features. He lowers his head for a moment, as if in introspection, and lifts it once more to gaze on the complicated young woman and pleasantly mad doctor with fondness. Giving each of their hand's a final squeeze, he speaks in a low voice, "Well, shall we be off? 'Once more into the breech, dear friends.'"
One of the guards near the Checkpoint steps forward after mentally drawing straws with his partner. He says to the weird man approaching, "You'd best just take a rest I think." He looks over Tandem without much recognition of the faded and shrivelled man. "You'd best wait back over there with your transport." He looks back over to his fellow guard, his eyes begging for a little support here. Finding none he frowns and turns back to Tandem, making little waving motions for him to turn around and have a nice day.
Rooke's expression gives way to a slight grin, and she nods a bit. Then she turns away, a dazed expression settling on her face as she looks for the object of her own personal five-month quest, and spies him wandering off like a herd of crippled turtles. She's the first the break the link, flighty creature named woman that she is, practically falling out of the bay door and dashing off after Tandem with her neat little ponytail bobbing wildly behind her head and then breaking from its catch, crashing across her shoulders in a cascade of dark red that reflects the sunset coming over the walls to the west. "Will, for the gods' sakes...!!!"
Jeremy watches Rooke go...then shrugs. "Frailty, thy name is woman," he mutters to himself with a kind of impish smile. He then nods back to Ash as the fellow makes his exit as well. "Right...I may do the same," he replies gently, adding a milder, "Take care of yourself, Ashley. Do avoid the patrols -- we'll do what we can about getting rid of those."
Tandem withdraws a hand from the confines of his armpit and points a shakey hand at one of the guards. His teeth chatter and his head twitches to the side. The fleece jacket over the pale blue jumpsuit further adding to the freakiness of the whole look of him. Quite a contrast to the strong bonds that were created behind him. He swallows harshly and says in a choked voice to one of the Militia members, "Give me...your weapon...soldier. Right now." His back hunches over and he advances on them looking like some demented troglodyte. "Hand it over..." His eyes rake over the guard's uniform. "..Private."
The Militia guard's eyebrows knit together in bewildered surprise. He looks down at his rank that clearly states him as being a Corporal and looks to be becoming a lot less civil. He raises his own hand and points back to the APC. His buddy that came up with the rather unfunny joke earlier spouts, "I'll give you a boot in your damn crippled ass if you don't turn around and head in the opposite direction. This is off limits to civilians or...otherwise." The guard closest to Tandem gives his fellow guard a harsh scolding look. "Shut your trap Stiffy. And consider your damn leave of absence denied next week." He scowls and turns to face the approaching rank smelling figure that is Tandem, alarmed that he is nearing his olfactory senses range.
Tandem stops his delirious advance and seems to crumple inwardly. Having been struck a mental blow he staggers backwards and falls to his rear onto the pavement where he sits dumbly.
Rooke skids to a halt near Tandem and shoots the guards a warning look, before collecting the mechanic up gently and making their way to the radio-phone hookup. She lifts the receiver and turns back to look for Jeremy and Ash, raising a hand to them.
Then, Jeremy snatches up his stuff and moves to exit the APC himself, boots galumphing down the ramp. He rolls up his sleeves slowly, and smiles knowingly to himself. "Hayseed Jeremy," he murmurs to himself.
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