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 Richard 'Dicky' Barton-MorewoodHe returns the Commander's wry smile with one of his own, albeit after a sigh. "Well, at least we are not alone in the bloody dark then, Sir." He supposes answers on that front will have to wait until they have reached their destination and now there is an added eagerness to be off if only to answers these questions gnawing at him. "When do we leave, Sir? I've had about all the rest and relaxation I can stand for now. Eager to get back into it." After a moment he follows with another question and a grin. "And do tell me I get to fly us there myself, Sir?" To Harry, he says. "Just so long as I'm the one dropping the bombs, eh?"
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Oct 19, 2016 16:26
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 HarryHe raises an imaginary glass to Dicky, nodding.
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Oct 19, 2016 16:28
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HMS Atlantic Isle - Commander's Office Commander Woolley gives a brief chuckle to Harry. "Concurred." Looking to Dicky, the commander grins. "Seems the Americans are ferrying you lot to the Jeremiah, but I made a point to give them an elbow--you'll be co-piloting, at least." Straightening, he addresses the gathered group as a whole. "Unless there are further questions, you have one hour to gather your gear and assemble at the airstrip, ready for redeployment."
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Oct 19, 2016 16:31
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood The grin grows wider under his moustache. "Thank you, Sir," He snaps off a salute. "I'll be sure to show them how it's done." With nothing left he can think to ask, he allows the pull of being finally underway and to get to fly once more to get the better of him. "Well then, we'll get to it, Sir. On behalf of us all, may I thank you for your hospitality over these last weeks. We'll be sure to give those Jerries hell for you, Sir." He gives one final salute followed by a nod and smile then he waits for the others to ask any questions they might have before he leaves to gather up his gear.
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Oct 19, 2016 16:50
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 Starshiy Leytenant Irakliy KuznetsovIrakliy has little trouble deciding what to do at first in his stay on the island--being confined to a hospital bed narrows down your options. He does at least get to see the others fairly often, at first to his surprise--until he learns that they've been effectively quarantined to Atlantic Isle, and then life rather settles down. The impromptu party with the brandy does much to ease his recovery, and it's not long before he's cleared fit to move around. He sees neither hide nor hair of his attaches, however, which is both surprising given the quarantine, and not surprising at all given who they are. More than the others, perhaps, Irakliy enjoys the change of pace--it's been a long time since he had any downtime at all, with the rapid pace of the Soviet advance west and his tendency to be redeployed every month or so. He takes to life in the small British town fairly well--when denied permission to tinker around with the British radio equipment (understandably, he has to admit), he spends most of the next week making himself familiar at the docks and bars of Edinburgh-of-the-Seas, helping the town's civilian fishermen with their boat engines and their problems of being overstocked with drink. It does wonders for his spirits, and by the time news finally comes down from the top for them to be redeployed, he's feeling perhaps the best he has in years. Even the announcement of where they're going doesn't put much of a dent in his spirits. Antarctica. The frozen hell at the bottom of the world. That explains why the Western Allies are keeping the Soviets in the loop, then--no nation on earth would have as much experience fighting in those conditions as the U.S.S.R.. He fingers the green charm Harry had handed out to him, staring out the window past the Commander. But if this base is connected to what we found on Saxemberg... then they are probably hiding more hateful things down there. Wrong things. He shakes his head. Well, no-one better to fight them, I guess. Speaking of... He waves two-fingered at the commander, to gain his attention. "You said scale, sir. Does that mean a full army force--tanks, artillery, air power?" [10:37] <Redeye> !wild 1d8+2 [10:37] * @AchtungBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for Redeye and got ( 12 13 ) Results: 13 [10:38] <Redeye> !wild 1d8+2 Spirit [10:38] * @AchtungBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for Redeye and got ( 69 5 ) Results: 6 Picked up Combat Reflexes and MacGyver edges. All wounds and Dementia healed.
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Oct 19, 2016 16:51
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 RonnieHe listens carefully to Lt. Commander Woolley, trying to parse what the man is telling them. While Ronnie can respect the necessity to train and prepare others to face what they all saw on Saxemberg, being too far away from the action will leave him even more anxious to get back to it. S/Sgt. Thomas knows where he is supposed to be, and doesn't want his war to be over just yet - even if in truth his war would still be going even if the war ended that day. And yet, when Woolley says a few words that Ronnie is all too familiar with, his face brightens - but in a strange, almost eerie manner of eagerness. If they are reactivating the Force, then they are expecting a heck of a lot more than a supply depot. He looks to Dicky and Harry, listens, and realizes they mean that the carrier they are redeploying to either does not exist or is something special. No, they have to be expecting a lot more to be down there with all this going on. Irakliy gets a nod as the Russian's question seems to be along the same lines as Ronnie's assumptions. When Ronnie gets another chance, presumably after Lt. Kuznetsov's question is answered, he asks one more question, of personal importance: "Sir, just to clarify: is the Force being reinstated with its previous personnel and duty assignments?" He stops for a brief second, then adds, "I assume I will be still 'on loan' to this part of the operation regardless, of course. Just want to be sure where I am on assignment from in the meantime."
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Oct 19, 2016 18:19
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HMS Atlantic Isle - Commander's Office Commander Woolley looks to Irakliy, lips drawing thin for a moment. "If what I've gathered from the limited information I've been given is correct--the scale of this endeavor is considerable. It would seem to me that the War Council is operating under an intent to address a threat of vast magnitude--otherwise, a joint operation like this is almost unthinkable." Lifting his chin, the mustachioed officer considers. "I believe that no expense is being spared." Looking again to Ronnie then, Woolley nods once. "You're to be liaisons of a sort." A glance is cast to Harry as well in this regard. "To ensure that Jerry is given his comeuppance."
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Oct 19, 2016 18:33
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Starshiy Leytenant Irakliy Kuznetsov Irakliy nods. That's a satisfactory enough answer for him, and he can understand the need for operational security. "Understood. When do we leave, then?"
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Oct 19, 2016 18:53
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Harry Harry nods. "Well good on ya. We'll be sure an' give'm your regards, Commander." He claps Ronnie on the back. "Will be good to see old mates, yeah? Let's get packin'. If I were a bettin' man I'd say I'm gettin' the five quid back Amohau owes me."
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Oct 19, 2016 18:56
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 Victoire Doucet, Maquisarde Medic, W 4/4, B 3, D 0/6, S 7/7"Training, planning, logistics?" Victoire scoffs. "Zat doesn't mean anything." She understood that he probably had been told the very same thing by his commander but couldn't help cursing at the rigid obedience to military protocol. Not like she had much choice in this anyways, she considered herself to be lucky to still be here, seeing as she was a civilian from a nation not involved in this operation. Guess the others had good things to say about her performance on Saxemberg.
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Oct 19, 2016 19:02
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Ronnie Ronnie's eyes light up with a grim eagerness as he smiles and nods. "Understood, sir," he says. The 1SSF had meant the world to him for a couple of years. Not just wearing the patch or carrying it around, but having it mean something makes him a part of an important greater whole again. He turns to Harry and laughs. "Wouldn't wanna owe you money, that's for sure," says Ronnie, still chuckling and shaking his head. Aside to Harry, he continues, "Man, that reminds me. I remember this one private - Comeau. Would not shut up about the cold when we were at La Difensa, up in the mountains. Think he was from Louisiana or something like that." After a short pause for effect, he grins and concludes: "Tell you what, I am scared to find out how loud he's gonna be down there."
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Oct 19, 2016 19:26
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 Izoldah RostovIzoldah chuckled. "Hah, and here I thought. I have dealt with Russian winters. Now I go south and things will be warmer. Won't get as cold as I did back then." She grinned. "Well, good thing you have me. I should make sure you do not get your toes or other important bits freezing off. Boys remember to button up properly above and below." She grinned.
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Oct 19, 2016 19:35
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HMS Atlantic Isle - Commander's Office Ambiance Commander Woolley nods to those assembled, straightening before her throws a smart salute. "Best of fortune to you all, then-- and give Jerry my regards. Dismissed." HMS Atlantic Isle - Airstrip Scarcely an hour to pack and prepare for the trip southward, abreast of revelations myriad--yet restrained. Cold wind buffets the men and women of the team as they walk across the HMS Atlantic Isle's air strip, forceful enough as if it were attempting to push them away; personal belongings, however sparse, are toted along with what gear and equipment would be taken--but with most designated to be distributed as necessary by requisition, packing is predominately keepsakes and their ilk.  On the runway, a ground crew can be seen attending to a U.S.-built Douglas C-47 Skytrain "Dakota" cargo transport--and from the looks of things, they're readied for immediate takeoff. A man wearing a cold-weather pilot's garb makes his way over to the group, throwing a salute for the fighting men and women before introducing himself. "I'm Captain Richard Whitaker." Clearly American, by his accent. "I'll be accompanying you. Your pilot," he says, turning to gesture towards the cockpit where a man can be seen going through the pre-flight checklist, "Is Lieutenant William "Bill" Peasley." Glancing about, Captain Whitaker looks to Dicky. "You must be our co-pilot." The mustache was hard to miss, after all. "Aircraftmen Standish and Blake will be our radio operator and navigator." He adds further, mostly for Dicky's benefit it would seem. Gesturing toward the opened cargo door to the plane, Captain Whitaker begins to walk as he ushers the team along. "We've got a long flight ahead of us, ladies and gentlemen--I hope you've packed for cold weather!"  Once boarded, aside from various cargo, the interior of the Dakota is almost empty. With a 30-person capacity for transport, the dozen members of the team have been left a fair bit of room. Stacked along the side-mounted benches of the rear are a dozen heavy, fur-lined military-issue parkas along with stocking caps and two stacks of neatly folded thick wool blankets. Captain Whitaker walks down the aisle, gesturing as he goes. "Make yourselves at home, change if you need to and buckle in. Sergeant Morewood, you're up front." He nods further along. From the cockpit, Lt. Peasley shouts back. "Weather permitting, our flight is going to take just over eleven hours!" Already the engines are rumbling loudly. Captain Whitaker escorts Dicky toward the cockpit, introducing the man to Standish and Blake along the way--both men on loan from the Royal Air Force like himself. Cargo in back appears to be foodstuffs, cold weather gear and medical supplies primarily. Once everyone is on-board and seated, the C-47 promptly takes off--taking a brisk clip down the runway before gaining altitude; the aircraft steers away from Tristan de Cunha's volcanic peak before easing up into the clouds. Following roughly a minute of climbing, the plane manages to rise above the cloud layer as stark sunlight reflects into the cabin. Into the Wild Blue - Dakota Transport Not long after takeoff once the plane has leveled off, Captain Whitaker steps back from the cockpit and reenters the cabin. "Apologies for the haste--we're on a tight schedule for our rendezvous." The man carries in his hands a briefcase with a pair of handcuffs, one locked to its handle. With a tight-lipped smile Captain Whitaker approaches Bradley before nodding down. "Sorry Mister Gewitt, I'm going to have to attach this to you." And we're off! The gang managed to pretty much exhaust Commander Woolley of any info he had on him, so not much else to be gleaned there. You've got a loooong flight ahead of you folks, so time to buckle up, get cozy, and try not to go nuts. Still, it's a chance to chit-chat a bit--and you're liable to have some in-flight reading material shortly. GaistHeidegger fucked around with this message at 20:00 on Oct 19, 2016 |
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Oct 19, 2016 19:42
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Harry He grins back at Izoldah. "Hey! We bloody well discovered Antartica. Hui-Te-Rangiora named it an' everything. Tai-huka-a-pia. The solid ocean of arrowroot. Cuz when you grate arrowroot it looks like snow, yeah?" He shrugs. "It was horrible, so he came back home." He boards the plane and immediately starts suiting up in cold weather gear. Eleven hours was a long time to be sitting in an airplane at 30,000 feet with no heat, Antartic or no. Once settled in, buckling his seat belt, he leans back in his seat, dozing, until the man with the briefcase awakens him and he looks at Bradley with undisguised interest.
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Oct 19, 2016 20:25
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Victoire Doucet, Maquisarde Medic, W 4/4, B 3, D 0/6, S 7/7 "Hah! Look at zat, we had british wine now we get american fashion." Victoire slips on the parka and does a mocking twirl. "Ravishing!" she exclaims with her lilting accent. She plops down on one of the seats, tucking her legs beside her. She hears the plane engines rumble, feels the vibration shake her seat. Truth is, this was her first time in an airplane and she didn't quite feel at ease, she just did her best to not let it show. Her hand came to brush against the barrel of the Luger strapped to her thigh. The cold metal reminded her that this plane was carrying her closer to her purpose. Everything was going to be fine. There'd be Nazis to shoot at the end of this. She was just going to be trapped in a small metal box suspended over the cold deep sea for then next eleven hours, right? Oh god what had she gotten into now. She pulls an old photograph out of her pocket and looks at it. She hadn't carried it on her for a while but after Saxemberg she figured it couldn't hurt to bring Clémence along for this ride too. Her other hand digs in her satchel and pulls out the last of her diluted ethanol. She takes a big swig and offers the bottle to the others with an uncertain smile. "Nothing to do and wait, right?" The question sounded less rhetorical than she had wanted it to. As the plane starts to take off she scrambles to look out of a window, her emotions a mix of fear and wonder. She did her best to keep a straight face but wasn't sure anyone would buy it.
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Oct 19, 2016 21:41
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Ronnie Despite ragging on one of his former subordinates for complaining about the cold, when it comes time he suits up in the winter gear without much fanfare at all. After giving the Captain a smart salute, of course. It certainly doesn't seem proper to not give the flight crew their due. He plops down in a seat, pack between his legs on the floor, and leans back. "Gets cold at altitude," he informs the others, trying not to laugh at Victoire's snark. "Learned that first thing in jump training in Montana. You get used to it, just gotta be prepared, no matter how bulky this stuff is." At the offer of booze, he seems about to accept, then shakes his head. "Not that I don't wanna, but you probably wanna save that. Might be hard to find much of anything easy, where we're going. I'm sure there'll be some around, always is of course, but...if it were me, I'd keep a stash." With that said, he too eyes Bradley and the briefcase with a hint of curious confusion, but figures it's probably above his pay grade. Those academic types - whatever they had actually found had obviously been the biggest of big deals, given the scale of the operation in progress. So if one of them had something like that for extra-safe-keeping...well, Ronnie isn't about to say a word about it.
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Oct 19, 2016 23:39
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 YuliaHer time away from duty is never, really, that far from duty. She walks about town, takes tea - but she has a distinct impression that the letters she writes are never mailed. Her handlers - with SMERSH, some of them, others she's not so sure of - have given her back some of the recovered books, as anticipated. In work, her life is not much different than it was in Kuibyshev - she is observed, she transcribes, she submits finished work. The chief difference is that she is on a beautiful, Atlantic volcanic isle instead of, well, Kuibyshev. And while it isn't quite tropical, by Soviet standards the weather is divine. What freedom she has is treasured, and she is a fixture at the mess the Royal Navy has dressed up more to resemble a diner, practicing her conversational English, taking in stories of anywhere, everywhere, from the well-travelled soldiers, filling pages of journals. And the rest of her time is spent mired in the weird finds she's been asked to translate. The conversation with Harry is forefront in her mind throughout - there is reticence to her study, and she keeps the subject matter at arm's length, for most of her work, giving a perfunctory transliteration without much in the way of translating. Nonetheless, she does make short work of the book she'd found in the officer's study and is able to submit an English and Russian language edition to her superiors within a couple of weeks, before digging into the more esoteric Tibetan tome. There, her interest gets the better of her, as the subject matter cleaves so closely to her previous writings and studies. ~ Das Todtenbuch is finished translating. [17:58] * AchtungBot rolled a (1d10) with wild die for ambivalent and got ( 6 5 ) Results: 6 [17:58] * AchtungBot rolled a (1d10) with wild die for ambivalent and got ( 19 4 ) Results: 19 Starting on Suta Milam Bar-do: AchtungBot rolled a (1d10) with wild die for ambivalent and got ( 5 8 ) Results: 8 I had lowered Survival to D4 in order to pick up SCIENCE after Saxemberg, so raising Survival back up to D6, Cryptography to d6. ~ She has little use for the briefing - Woolley's words mean little to her. The truth will be reflected when they arrive, after all. The Saxemberg mission had hardly been what was described to her. Besides, this whole endeavour sounds, to her ears, like all the powers trying to grab a piece of glory so they can stand victoriously atop one last objective in the twilight of this war. Khulanova listens dutifully but does not take it much to heart. Yulia scrutinizes the cold-weather gear provided and seems a little less-than enthused but makes do. She'd brought her own reindeer-hide high boots, and heavy, bushy fur hat that she'd taken from home, to the Himalayas, and now, Antarctica. Securing herself into one of the seats, and not fully trusting the plane, she fastens tight, and looks about to the others. The idea of the plane is still uneasy for her, but, well, it had to be perfectly safe, right? 'Bill' seemed an experienced sort, and Barton-Morewood had flown dozens of missions, right? Fine. Fine. Along with just about everyone else she imagines, Yulia gives Bradley and his new attachment a long stare. If you wanted a physical manifestation of the notion that you have not been told anything by your commanders, the case is that and then some. It is not surprising.
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Oct 19, 2016 23:42
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 Bradley HewittBennies 2 As the briefing continued, he listened to what was being said. He didn't ask questions, even though he did have some questions. This man wouldn't have many of the answers and if he did have some he probably couldn't say. The situation seemed typical for missions like this, information is given on a need to know basis. After the briefing he went to work getting ready for departure. Along with his personal effects, he also packed the book. He needed more time to study it. Fortunately Command let him keep the book (possibly due to his study of early northern European tribes). He briefly wondered what kind of weaponry they were going to be assigned, but then he realized that he might not be going into combat so it might just be a moot point. ~~~~ Climbing aboard the plane he took the advice the captain offered and bundled himself up to protect himself from the weather. An eleven hour flight sounded dreadful, but he knew he would manage. After donning what he could and pulling a blanket over his legs, he got comfortable for the flight. When the captain came out of the cockpit he looked over to see what he had to say. At first he assumed it was just an update on how long it would take to get to their destination, but there was more. Bradley didn't think anything of the briefcase he had, until the captain walked over to him. When the Captain came over with the handcuff. Bradley nodded and put up his left wrist. "To whom am I delivering this briefcase, sir?" Bradley understood his role in this. It was simple. His task was to deliver the briefcase and not to let anyone inside it. The only question he needed answered was to whom.
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Oct 20, 2016 00:59
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 GraceShe reflects on her time spent reading the Complete Works of Tacitus and aiding Izoldah while they walk to the aircraft. Grace remembers switching gears between reading the works of a Roman historian and helping a Soviet scout rationalise trauma making an interesting three weeks. The former spiritualist honed her skills intertwined with the two activities and as a byproduct, bolstered her resolve. It's when she put on her new parka and hat that a newfound inner strength crystallised with the realisation she was a useful asset to the team. A curious briefcase being presented to Bradley snapped Ms. Flynn out of her reverie as she gawks at it. Advancing Spirit from d8 to d10! Smarts check on reading The Complete Works of Tacitus and gaining an exclusively Knowledge (Occult) Benny: * AchtungBot rolled a (1d6) with wild die for Razeam and got ( 5 3 ) Results: 5 Knowledge (Psychology) rolls for Izoldah: * AchtungBot rolled a (1d6) with wild die for Razeam and got ( 2 4 ) Results: 4 * AchtungBot rolled a (1d6) with wild die for Razeam and got ( 13 1 ) Results: 13
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Oct 20, 2016 05:37
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Into the Wild Blue - Dakota Transport Ambiance Captain Whitaker affixes the handcuff to Bradley's wrist neatly--and not too tightly, at that. With a nod toward the handcuffs, he notes. "Keys to those are on my person--and in the care of someone at your destination. As for the briefcase, what's in it is none of my business. My orders are to leave you to yourselves while it's open--and under no circumstances are I or anyone else in the flight crew to discuss the contents with you." Casting a rather serious look about the cabin, Captain Whitaker concludes with a nod. "Right then. Briefcase is now in your custody; when we arrive, you're to deliver it onward to your new commanding officer--whoever that ends up being." After a pause, Captain Whitaker gestures along. "There are thermos bottles with hot coffee along with some sandwiches over yonder, if anyone's hungry. If you need a smoke, let us know. Otherwise, I've got to keep this door closed when that case is open. Knock twice if you need me." With that, Captain Whitaker excuses himself from the cabin, closing the door behind him. Bradley finds the briefcase to be of fairly sturdy construction--and surprisingly heavy, to boot. It is secured by a key lock.
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Oct 20, 2016 05:52
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Grace Grace squirms in her seat as she attempts to keep herself from looking too intensely at the briefcase. "Aren't you going to open it?" she pouts at Bradley.
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Oct 20, 2016 06:09
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Bradley Hewitt Bennies 2 He waited for the captain to go back to the cockpit. Knowing that he was expected to look into the briefcase meant that he could indulge his curiousity (and as he looked around) everyone else's as well. "Yes, I am." After what the group endured on the island, he figured they deserved to let in on what was in the brief case. As he opened the brief case he held his breath in anticipation.
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Oct 20, 2016 06:10
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Into the Wild Blue - Dakota Transport Ambiance Testing the key he'd been given earlier, Bradley finds it fits and unlocks the briefcase readily. Within, Bradley finds a flat metal box made of grey enamelled steel; the box is plain, without markings--resembling a conventional safe deposit box such as one might find at a bank. Cursory movement reveals a rustling sound within the box, as if it were full of papers. The metal box is secured with a key lock. A lock which Bradley's key also fits.
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Oct 20, 2016 06:10
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Bradley Hewitt Bennies 2 "Well that was a little anticlimatic. There's another box in here and the box sounds like it has papers? Intriguing. Fortunately this key I have looks like it opens up this smaller box." Bradley pulled the key out and opened up the smaller box.
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Oct 20, 2016 06:14
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Into the Wild Blue - Dakota Transport Ambiance With a click, the metal box is unlocked--lid opening on a swivel latch. Inside, Bradley finds three manilla folders, each marked with distinctive EYES ONLY designations the man recognizes from use by the SOE's Section M. Additionally, the case contains a thick manilla envelope rigid with a metallic object inside. Each of the folders is titled with crisp labeling: PABODIE STARKWEATHER-MOORE RITSCHER Each of the folders appears to contain transcripts of successive expeditions to Antarctica, with the fourth including an extensive translation of originally German reports. Within the manilla envelope, Bradley finds a flat metal disk stamped with a swastika; it looks as if it was at one time affixed to a pole of some sort, but cut cleanly off at the base. A small tag is attached to the disk by a string, identifying it as having been taken from "Neuschwabenland."
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Oct 20, 2016 06:16
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Yulia She shakes her head, enjoying the sandwich provided. By far, her favorite part of being stationed with the Allies has been the food. Russian food, if she is being honest and unpatriotic, is dire. Years of bitter winters and some of Comrade Stalin's more ill-advised agricultural reforms had led to dramatic rationing. And while as an academic, she had been spared actual starvation, it hardly means she has been dining finely. The sandwich, however, is magnificent. And nutritious, really. At the outset of the war, the American government had contracted Continental Baking to begin adding vitamins and minerals to their bread, in an effort to produce a stronger, healthier population, a New Man. The Third Reich and Stalinists must have been kicking themselves for not having been able to do it first. All this makes this, the sandwich of Allies, that much more delicious. Yulia chews mouthful of bread and eyes it thoughtfully, trying to decide if she can taste the vitamins and minerals or not. Finally, she looks up to Bradley across the cargo hold, shaking her head, swallowing her bite.
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Oct 20, 2016 06:29
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Grace She leans over to spy the envelope and its contents. "Pabodie, Starkweather-Moore, Ritscher… hmm?" Grace's eyes go to the swastika on the metal disc before its "Neuschwabenland" tag. "New Swabia?" A pause. "But in Antarctica." After her commentary, she bites her bottom lip to internalise her thought processes for a spell. "So Antarctic explorers and a Jerry base. Maybe read them all… doubt Ritscher is the most important one, I mean. They wouldn't have put in the other two if this was just about Germany."
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Oct 20, 2016 06:45
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Bradley Hewitt Bennies 2 He looked down at what was in the box. At first he sifted through the folders and then open up the envelope. Looking inside he saw the item with the swastika. Even before he looked at the tag, he had a feeling he knew what that was about. Before during the briefing he considered asking about the Nazi Antarctic expedition, but he assumed that only the information about the expedition consisted of only what the Nazi papers reported. He looked at the tag and realized that the SOE had kept tabs on that expedition. "It looks like the SOE has delivered some useful intel on our future mission to the Antarctic." He started to leaf through the folders looking over the details in a rushed fashion. "There are several reports of previous expeditions in Antarctica and a German, I think a Nazi expedition. These names, Pabodie and Starkweather-Moore were antarctic expeditions. And I assume the third, Ritscher is the Nazi expedition. That's what Neuschwabenland is about, I think. All I know of the Nazis in Antarctica was that they sent an expedition down to explore. As far as I know there is nothing in those expeditions, which would require this level of security." "And then there's this metal piece." He holds it up for the others to see. "This is from the Nazi expedition to the Antarctic. I would love to hear the story about how the SOE got this." He then started to read through the files a little more thoroughly. Something in them required this amount of security. What was it? He wondered if the expeditions found something. Something that was probably kept out of the public's knowledge. Docbubonic_away !wild d10 Antarctic exploration AchtungBot rolled a (1d10) with wild die for Docbubonic_away and got ( 15 3 ) Results: 15 Docbubonic_away !wild d6 history FathisMunk hah AchtungBot rolled a (1d6) with wild die for Docbubonic_away and got ( 2 1 ) Results: 2 DocBubonic fucked around with this message at 06:52 on Oct 20, 2016 |
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Oct 20, 2016 06:46
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Grace The MI6 agent snatches the Pabodie folder to begin reading through its transcript. She smiles and chatters, "I'll handle this one, sir."
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Oct 20, 2016 07:02
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E: Later
Redeye Flight fucked around with this message at 07:23 on Oct 20, 2016 |
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Oct 20, 2016 07:10
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Bradley Hewitt Bennies 2 With Grace taking the one folder, he then started to read through the Starkweather-Moore folder. "Lets see what we can find in these." DocBubonic fucked around with this message at 07:29 on Oct 20, 2016 |
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Oct 20, 2016 07:15
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Victoire Doucet, Maquisarde Medic, W 4/4, B 3, D 0/6, S 7/7 Victoire follows Yulia's example and also grabs a sandwich. Man how she misses a good baguette, this just isn't the same. She looks at the folders with interest while eating, peering over the shoulder of the closest academic. "Polar expeditions?" She swallowed her bite. "If zere is some biological data in zere I would love to have a look at it. You find ze damnedest things in hostile environments." She turns back to the food, warily eyeing the swastika as she spots it. A deep hatred flares up but without a target to take it out on it'll just have to wait.
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Oct 20, 2016 07:30
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He enjoys a smoke during their walk up along the airstrip toward the 'Dokata' class which he had been observing during his downtime. He's wearing more or less the same garb that Captain Whitaker greets them in, knowing full well himself just how cold it can get high above God's Earth. He makes introductions with the Captain and steps up into the iron beast, tapping the tobacco out of his pipe on the side of the plane before he steps in; a tradition he still keeps before a flight. Usually he prefers to check the aircraft himself before flights; making sure tires are checked for blister cuts, no leakage from hydraulic brake lines, etc. Half of this flying business is done before you leave the ground, as he often says. But here it seems the crew have already carried out such checks and they are merely waiting on their passengers to load up, so he'll have to trust in their precautions. It wouldn't do to step on anyone's toes, after all. Once inside, he steps up in the cockpit at Captain Whitaker's request. He does correct the Captain on his surname though. "It's Barton-Morewood, Sir," he says offhandedly. He'd never let someone leave out his dear ol' dad's surname, even he was a Captain. Up in the cockpit, he makes introductions with Standish and Blake, happy to see some RAF lads joining them for the ride. He snaps off a salute and shakes the hand of Lieutenant Peasley as he sits in the co-pilot's chair and adjusts it so his eye-level is center with the windshield. "Glad to be aboard, Sir," he shouts over the roar of the engines as he fixes on his earphones with the left one off so as to still hear Peasley. "I've spent far too long on solid ground, I'll be happy when we're airborne!" And it seems the crew are all too eager to be off too, with him barely settling in and helping Peasley through the rest of the pre-flight checklist before the go ahead is given for takeoff. He takes hold of the wheel in front of him as they taxi to the runway and assists Peasley in his co-pilot duties of keeping an eye on the pressure instruments, throttle and the RPM as the man takes them into a textbook takeoff. His grin is very wide as they leave the ground below them and he takes his place back up in the sky once more. "Wheels up and pressure zero," he says after retracting the landing gear and returning it to neutral. "So where are you boys from?" he says as he checks over the instruments. Might as well make conversation if it's to be a long flight. "They bought me in from the 73rd. I'd been based in Malta and drat near every other country in Europe before all this. After the B.O.B I never thought anything would be as exciting, but this bloody well looks to rival it! Say, any of you chaps know much about this Jeremiah were heading to?"
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Oct 20, 2016 13:51
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Harry His enthusiasm wanes visibly as he sees the case just contains papers. Well, papers and a Nazi... disk... thing. Looked like a flag topper or some such. Nothing all that great. He helps himself to sandwiches and coffee, stifling a yawn. "Well giz a squizz if you see anything interesting, yeah? Me, I'm takin' a nap, unless anyone has a deck a cards."
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Oct 20, 2016 15:17
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Bradley Hewitt Bennies 2 As he reads the documents in the folder, he looks up. "There is bound to be some biological information in here. Not sure if it will be relevant to our mission. Of course, I do not know what occult matters could be found in Antarctica. It seems too removed from civilization to have occult significance. Unless, that is, some meteorite found in Antarctica have occult significance. There are some cultures that see meteorites as sacred objects. Then again maybe one of these expeditions found something else there." He goes back to reading.
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Oct 20, 2016 21:56
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Sgt. Willis There was a Russian word that Ted would use a lot if he only knew it. Nichevo. Literally, it meant something like nothing, or unimportant, but there was a shading of meaning that wasn't easy to translate directly into English. The closest you could get was "It can't be helped", or "There's nothing to be done about it", with strong emotional overtunes of futility. The harvest was bad? Nichevo. Another purge? Nichevo. Ten feet of snow fell overnight? Nichevo. All you could do was all you could do, and let the whims of fate and chance do what they'd do. Nichevo. In that, Ted was more Russian in his outlook than most Americans, though neither he nor, honestly, most Russians would ever recognize or understand it. After waking up from twelve hours sleep, and having missed most of the 'decompression' festivities, Ted found himself repeating his story to a psychiatrist who'd become a little worried by his debriefing. They didn't pull him out of the line for combat fatigue, so Ted figured he'd passed or they'd decided to use him until he broke. Which was it? Nichevo. Not much later, he got notified by some American officer he'd never met that he was getting a medal. Bronze Star. Great! Wasn't any more money in his pocket, wasn't a quicker trip home, wasn't gonna get officers to salute him instead of vice versa. If Ted valued it at all, it was for the abstract thought that his teammates had neither ignored nor lied about what he'd done on the island. That was about all the time he had for medals, though. Usually you only got the good ones when you were dead or well-connected, and that's how the world was. Nichevo. Going about his duties as backup for the base's engineering crew, Ted adapts to noncombat, base life without any apparent difficulty letting one duty shift pass into a sleeping shift and again, the routine of war familiar and vaguely comforting. He knows it won't last. The United States had not ferried him here to have him comfortable in a base when he had expertise that could be exploited for combat engineering duties. There were plenty of mechanics who barely knew how to shoot a gun or lob a grenade that the ones that could do all that and also blow a bridge to hell were in demand. That tended to mean Ted and people like him got ground down by fighting and had to be replaced a lot more than people who were, notionally, less valuable to the war effort- nichevo. His suspicions were confirmed on being told that yes, the map and the navigation system pointed to a Nazi base in Antarctica, and that they were going to go help tear it down. Ted just nods once. He'd figured. The Nazis were so scared of dying they were coming up with ways they could keep fighting after being killed- there wasn't any way they were going to do anything but find as many redoubts as they could, prolong the inevitable and peevishly make the world bleed as much as possible to end them. By the time Ted trundles on a plane (he'd done so a few times before, but never thought much of it as a pleasant mode of transportation) all bundled up and squared away with some gear, the American engineer's a little interested in what's to happen. But only a little. The mystery of a locked briefcase, a carrier he hadn't heard of... these things were all quite curious even for someone with little curiosity. Still, the academics (and of course, despite his polite objection, they were still lashed to noncombatants in a probable combat zone. Nichevo-) pore over the papers, seemingly fascinated. Ted watches them for signs of shock or horror. Figured they were going to be playing amateur briefers, and also figured that he'd have to look at a few himself to see if they had anything militarily relevant that a civilian might miss. Never could tell. That apart, he leans back against the plane as the buzzing drone makes it hard to hear much of anything and shuts his eyes. Not to nap, but just... to wait. Buying BRAVE and increasing Notice (to d6) and knowledge demolitions (to d8). Sheet updated in recruit thread.
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Oct 21, 2016 00:24
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Yulia "New Swabia." She repeats for Grace as she slides down the bench of the freight seating, "It was an idea put forth by Kaiser Wilhelm." Taking another small bite from her sandwich, and glancing at the pages before looking back to her food, she goes on, "There was... a sense of inferiority in Germania at the time - well, there always has been - but especially regarding the colonies of other imperial powers. Neuschwabenland was Germany showing up a decade late and a reichsmark short to colonialism. Göring still talks about it all the time." She shrugs her shoulders, then looks around, "What? I've been locked in a church translating German communiques for three years." Finishing her sandwich, she takes the last of the three folders titled 'Ritscher' and begins to flip through it.
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Oct 21, 2016 03:03
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Into the Wild Blue - Dakota Transport Ambiance Reading through the folders, Bradley and Grace both quickly discover their depth and materials to be quite dense--but through cursory skimming and review, are able to relay more concise awareness of the expeditions to Antarctica--and their decisively unusual findings. PABODIE EXPEDITION - EYES ONLY In 1930, the Miskatonic University backed a much-publicized scientific venture to venture to Antarctica; the expedition's namesake, Professor Pabodie, had devised an ingenious new innovation in drilling methodology via a very capable yet also transportable apparatus could be utilized for deeper samples of the Antarctic terrain. Ostensibly, the goal of the expedition was to uncover new fossil evidence and to expand knowledge of the icebound continent--and by extensive, knowledge of Earth's geologic history. The nominal leaders of the Pabodie Expedition were Professors Pabodie, Dyer and Lake--all from Miskatonic's alumni.  While the beginning excerpts of the report mostly concern themselves with the long journey and incremental weather along the way, highlights soon arrive upon an astonishing initial find of fossil evidence sufficient to stir the expedition to a change of plans: splitting into two, a forward group led by Professor Lake proceeded in pursuit of new findings, while their base camp was held by Professor Dyer. After encountering an immense, unusually-shaped mountain range that purportedly dwarfed the Himalayas, Professor Lake's group reported discovery of a cavern containing an astonishing array of bones--as well as a group of fourteen carcasses in the form of actual ice-preserved specimens. quote:“Appears to indicate, as I suspected, that earth has seen whole cycle or cycles of organic life before known one that begins with Archćozoic cells.” — Prof. Lake Expounding on this substantial find, the report indicates that Professor Lake's team were able to recover the fourteen specimens from the subterranean cavern--six of which were in a damaged state, while the remaining eight were indicated to be in pristine condition. Upon returning to his camp, Professor Lake is purported to have conducted a rudimentary autopsy on the specimens, reporting the results back to Professor Dyer's group--but the details of such strained credulity, for the creatures biology defied conventional understanding by established scientific knowledge. Of the specimens, Professor Lake wrote: Six feet end to end, three and five-tenths feet central diameter, tapering to one foot at each end. Like a barrel with five bulging ridges in place of staves. Lateral breakages, as of thinnish stalks, are at equator in middle of these ridges. In furrows between ridges are curious growths – combs or wings that fold up and spread out like fans... which gives almost seven-foot wing spread. Arrangement reminds one of certain monsters of primal myth, especially fabled Elder Things in the Necronomicon. Following the autopsy report, contact with Professor Lake's group was lost. A rescue party dispatched by the remaining group reported discovering the forward group's camp in ruins and worse. Though severe weather had been nominated as the initial cause of dropped communication and subsequent loss of manpower--all but one of the men was reported as having been butchered horribly. As well, the sled dogs of Lake's team had been similarly slaughtered; earlier in his reports, Professor Lake had noted that the dogs would not abide the recovered specimens and barked ceaselessly in their vicinity. Professor Dyer's team initially concluded that a missing scientist by the name of Gedney was to be blamed for the deaths--presuming that he had gone mad and become murderous. Dyer's team discovered six star-shaped burial mounds had been created in the snow, housing the remains of the six damaged carcasses of those strange specimens--while the remaining eight were reported as missing. After burying the dead and pursuing sealing off the cavern in which Professor Lake's team had discovered the specimens, Dyer ordered his team to seal off the wrecked campsite and prepare the expedition for a retreat. Professor Dyer is then reported to having been accompanied by a graduate student by the name of Danforth in order to perform a reconnaissance flight in examination of the mountain range Professor Lake had reported earlier. Here, the report begins to veer into increasingly concerning elements. According to the report, Dyer and Danforth discovered that behind the mountain range was an ancient, massive alien city--concluded by the pair to be older than any vestige of recorded human knowledge, preserved for unknowable eons in the ice. Professor Dyer called for a landing at the site, wherein he and Danforth are then reported to having discovered some sort of museum full of murals left by the strange elder specimens--which they concluded to be the city's likeliest inhabitants. Professor Dyer reported the murals having depicted the creation of the 'elder thing' city--aided by creatures best described as enormous masses of chaotic tentacles and tendrils--atop a vast subterranean abyss. Dyer further indicates in the report that these murals seemed to chronicle biological experimentation performed by the 'elder things'--including the apparent genesis of humanity. Additional murals purportedly portrayed some sort of terrible conflicts between the 'elder things' and other alien, unknown species--while also depicting a growing autonomy of the tentacle creatures until they became entirely independent. Dyer and Danforth seemed to conclude that the quality and styling of the murals then began to deteriorate, as if the 'elder things' were regressing somehow--before ultimately portraying some sort of exodus or migration out of the Antarctic city to some other dwelling deep beneath the sea. Among all the murals and Professor Dyer's more extensive notes, however, is an apparently prominent presence in the collective portrayals that asserted that the largest mountain in Antarctica was home to some sort of primeval being of unimaginable power. Professor Dyer likens this being to a god, feared by the 'elder things'. After further exploration, Dyer and Danforth reported discovering a sled with the missing man, Gedney--as well as his corpse, purported to have been clinging to a dead sled dog for warmth or comfort. Following this discovery, the men reported being alerted by sounds--before realizing that the 'elder things' from Lake's camp were almost certainly not dead at all and had instead, in fact, been the perpetrators of the massacre at the camp. Professor Dyer indicates that the beings must have been in a sort of hibernation of potentially tens of thousands of years. From here, there are excerpts of the report that are more difficult to follow; at times, included notes also pertain to extensive sketches and other evidence, some of which has been purposefully excised or redacted. Reportedly, Dyer and Danforth continued to explore the city before arriving at a giant passage of some sort which led to a vast subterranean sea as depicted in the murals. Here, Dyer recounts discovering the eight 'elder things' along with evidence of a recent fight--during which they had been slaughtered as viciously as the men and women of Professor Lake's expeditionary party. Among the darkness, Professor Dyer and Danforth indicate that they discovered some form of enormous mutant penguins, blind and placid, as if serving as cultivated livestock for some sort of unknown predator. In pursuit of an egress in the dark, Dyer and Danforth purportedly encountered a horrible creature formed of a bubbling black abhorrent fluidic mass full of eyes and covered in tendrils, as depicted in the murals. Professor Dyer and Danforth were only narrowly able to escape the monstrosity before managing to flee back to their airplane. Dyer and Danforth reunited with the rest of the expedition, calling for a swift and immediate departure from Antarctica. The truth of what befell Professor Lake's group was suppressed in the expedition's original reporting and most of the information was kept under wraps--prior to the study now in Bradley's hands.  Each of the reports can also be studied in order to gain Knowledge (Mythos), though this is also at the usual cost of Sanity in the process. The reports can be 'safely skimmed', which is the presumption for the summaries you are gleaning above.
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Oct 21, 2016 06:11
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Bradley Hewitt Bennies 2 After perusing the folder, he sat and thought about what he just read. All the precautions made sense now. This information needed to be kept secret it, otherwise it would be destabilizing. Not many people could know this and maintain their composure. Even briefing the team here could pose problems. The situation in regards to the information had to be controlled. "I read over the documents and I want to make sure you all know the severity of the information in them. We need to keep this information between ourselves and the only other people who may know about this are those who are authorized to know about it. If anyone in here were to leak any of the information that these folders have, the consequences would be dire. I am not just talking about being imprisoned. Our governments would go to extralegal lengths to make sure you never said anything else." He looked over at the Soviet members of the team. "Even being from a country that like to talk about personal freedom and liberty would not protect you from extreme sanctions. The information in these folders is far too dangerous to be disseminated among people who are not prepared for it. I know that sounds like hyperbole, but I think it needs to be said." He took a breath and thought about how to present the information the folders had. If the group had to confront the secrets the folder had head on, it might cause problems. Perhaps, he thought, I should present the information with the caveat that there is no guarantee as to the authenticity of the documents. The explorers might not have been in their right minds when they took these notes. If I say that, then they could disbelieve what I tell them. It might give them some protection against having to confront the reality depicted in these papers. Given time they can make peace with the information. "I am going to give you a sense of what these files contain. Now I there is no way I can prove what these files claim. What is documented is a bit fantastic and might be the result of people sharing a delusional belief. If anyone would prefer to believe that is the case, then I would understand. Our superiors are not taking chances and they are treating these files as true. Better safe, than sorry. The short summary of these files is that one or more expeditions to Antarctica have discovered the presence of a non-human civilization. An ancient civilization that existed a long time ago and they had a city on Antarctica before the continent became covered in snow. . So far in my reading I have not determined if this non-human civilization is from Earth or from somewhere else. I believe these things, I am not sure how to describe them really, are not from Earth. The files go on to say that some remnants, some of the things that inhabited the city might still be around. That is the summary of these files. The files have a lot more, but I wanted to mention the basics first. Later on, if people are ready we can delve into the other details." It wasn't a complete lie. Bradley knew that the explorers probably went insane, but their mental problems came because of what they encountered. Instead of being the cause of what they saw. It was a small lie, but it might make the information a little more palatable.
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Oct 21, 2016 20:24
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Victoire Doucet, Maquisarde Medic, W 4/4, B 3, D 0/6, S 7/7 Be careful what you talk about, loose lips sink ships, bla bla bla. Victoire had heard it hundreds of times in all possible variations. She was pretty sure most of them had and were aware of the special nature of their mission. After what they had seen on Saxemberg there could be no doubt about it. As Bradley begins to talk about a non human civilization she perks up. Among the different pages of the report she glances a sketch of what she assumes is one of the creatures. Without asking she grabs it and studies the strange morphology, trying to dig through her knowledge of phylogeny. She is baffled. "Zis is unlike any other animal I know of. No family bears any resemblance to zis except maybe... Anemones? Sea cucumbers?" she looks up from the sketch. "But zose aren't exactly known for zeir intellect. Just how civilized are we talking about? Basic interactions or eusociality ? Anything about culture? Written history?" She looks back at the drawing of the strange barrel shaped monstrosity. "Yes zere is definitely something of a resemblance to sea life here. Zose dimensions jotted at the bottom, could you translate zem to metric units please? How big are zese things?" She hands the page back to Bradley and stands up to get a thermos of coffee and a bunch of cups. "Seems like we should try to stay focused. Who wants some?" She asks as she is pouring herself a cup.
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Oct 21, 2016 22:12
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