[Episode One] Sanctum

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Oliver smiled at Juryrig as his horse, table, thing came stumbling over, there simply wasn't a better way to describe its motion as anything other than a constant stumble. "Well that's awedully kind of you, say you look like you could use some breakfast. What kind of weight tolerance does thing have?"

"It could tolerate around two hundred kilograms, last I checked. Is that really how much your forks weigh, Oliver?" Juryrig stated, his taunting having knowing no subtlety.

"Oh yee of little faith, sadly I don't own forks and spoons made of gold but rather the amount of food needed for this trip. While I doubt we need 200 kilos I could easily whip up that and more." Oliver trailed off realising what he was saying sounded completely absurd and that for anyone to believe him there would have to be a demonstration.

The madman raised an eyebrow, and stroked his bare chin in a exaggerated thinking pose. Oliver didn't appear to have any equivalent to 200 kilos of food, so why would he make the claim...? A wicked grin grew slowly as a thought began to grow; why not dare Oliver? In a over-the-top Juryrig fashion that most of the crew are well acquainted with at this point, to varying degrees of tolerance, the alchemist pointed at Oliver, and made his dare! "You could make that easily? Alrighty, Chef Boi-Hearty, show me how you do your food!"

As if there was an unspoken competition Oliver's own grin broadened to match the crazed alchemist standing across from him as the lanky con man stretched out his arms and cracked his knuckles. "Don't say I didn't warn you, I think we'll start with good old spaghetti first off." Oliver had to actually concentrate and mutter a few simple lines for a feat of this size as he stretched out each arm pointing at the alchemical horse. "Skidaddles Skidoodles, summon me some noodles." He yelled with triumph as several strands of pasta seemed to burst forth from his palms and begin coiling on the table, although it looked like they came directly our of his hands there was in fact a slight gap between their origen and his palms.

The Alchemical Horse had continued to hold up all that spaghetti; sure, there was a bit of creaking, but no ordinary table could hold 200 kg of anything. However, Juryrig was less impressed with his invention, which he had come to know very well and love like one of his own juryrigged children, and more in awe with Oliver making pasta, and lots of it. The con artist even said a cheesy line, too; Juryrig loved those one-liners! "You could do this?! I'd need to draw circles to do the same thing, and you're using one-liners and hands! THAT'S SO COOL! Come on, give it more, keep piling, I have yet to see it demonstrate its true capacity!"

"You're on Juryrig, hope you dont mind losing an invention this morning." Oliver stopped the stream of endless carbs and switched up his stance, now only holding one hand out infront of himself and the other gripping it at the wrist. "Bring the beef!" within a split second of the words leaving his lips beef mince piled onto the strands of pasta as Oliver began creating one of the biggest heavy-weight spaghetti bolognese dishes ever seen. While his one liner summons seemed cheesy he could actually use just abut any line that described the food in his mind, the one liners were the extra flare for a very special mad alchemist.

Each and every pound of beef that flew and landed on the ever-growing mountain of food was beginning to take its toll on the Horse, the weight pushing down halfway to the ground, hissing steam, gurgling profusely, and its creaks grew louder. Around 500 KG of weight, the oak wood was beginning to crack and splinter, and yet Juryrig gave no heed to those signs! Even as the mountain of food was becoming absolutely stupid, too. "Alchemy will fix it, don't worry about it! I need this to the very end!" Juryrig cackled. "Keep going, Alchemical Horse! Show him your strength!" With that bit of encouragement, the Alchemical Horse put all of its strength into standing straight, though it was clearly struggling.

Lowering his arm the food stream stopped once more as Oliver stood back and admired his handywork, the Alchemical Horse which Juryrig had held in such high regard was doing quite well all things considered, however he made a promise. "Time to say goodnight horsey, with the cherry on top, or rather the cheese on top." This time he assumed an almost prayer like pose with his hands together in front of his chest, "Reality bend, bring forth unholy cheese." instead of cheese flying from his hands a shimmering began above the mountain as a single, huge slice of cheese that seemed almost metalic slipped through whatever barrier seperated where it came from and their world. Landing on top it easily doubled the overall weight of the pile, "And with that, you're done."

The cheese landed on the pile with such force that it cratered around the Horse upon impact. It hissed steam constantly, at a temperature to heat all the food on top of it, and melting the cheese. Unyielding, the Horse tried to stand up again, but that would be the last time it would stand tall. Pipes burst, legs snapped, alchemical energy danced around the contraption as it made its last stand against Oliver, whom was limitless compared to it! Even with its great strength, it could never handle upwards to 800 KG of weight; it's made of mostly wood. "... That was so cool, I'm already jealous," Juryrig commented, not minding the fact that his invention is broken and buried under a bunch of food; instead, he was considering a several new inventions from this test between endurances. "So, you could get rid of all this, right...?"

Oliver stopped grinning at that moment, he'd gotten too into the moment and too excited. "Well, usually I stick to a fairly small limit so this situation doesn't happen... Guess the secret is no longer a secret with this sitting here, and to answer the question I am unable to simply whisk it away." His expression went from grinning to sheepish as he explianed there was nothing he could do. "Think anyone wil notice if we leave now and don't say anything?" he said staring at the huge pile of food sitting just a few meters from the ship.

Juryrig is a alchemists, and in alchemy, everything has a equivalent value. This means Juryrig could easily transmutate all that food into something with a greater value, and clear out the mess. Then again, this alchemist is Juryrig, a madman who spreads chaos for a noble cause, and who gives no shit about consequences. Naturally, he's more "Juryrig" than "Friendly Helpful Alchemist."

"Hmmmmm... Oh yeah, definitely! This mountain is slightly taller than the Downrider, and it smells a lot better than it, too. But don't worry about it, the wildlife will take care of it eventually! No way I could clear this, I'm afraid. Sorry pal!"

"Well then it's decided, the mountain stays... along with the crushed remains of your device. So what do we tell Dahlia when she asks?"

"You did it, not me." Juryrig said simply, and walked off, totting his heavy haversack with him.
 
Finn simply stood there slack jawed while his offer was ignored and he was seemingly forgotten, he didn't quite know what to do as he saw the two casually collaborate to test the limits of Juryrig's horse-table-thing and he was all for pushing the limits but uhh...

He certainly didn't expect it to be a giant mound of food that they were using as weights, it didn't seem at all practical and quite frankly, messy but damn it was impressive if not a little startling.

"um I just have one little thing to ask - WHAT THE FUCK WAS ALL THAT?!?" the metal-clad merc exclaimed, he didn't realise that things would be getting so strange the moment he took a few steps off the ship.

"wha... wait.. what, are you telling me that all this time you have been just conjuring food?" Finn asked, and if it weren't for his helmet people would be able to see his face drop with sudden realisation. He wasn't a man of magic or religion or whatever people believed let them use magic, he was a man of bullets, metal and grease - but his mind started to put the idea in his head that the food Oliver had been serving was somehow, a horrid and unsavoury thing...
 
Landing Area

Dahlia soon returned from the cargo bay with her own backpack, which was gold and color and filled to the brim with useful supplies. With her she had camping materials, clothing, gear, scanners, a sharpened machete, and rope. The scholar walked into the center of the clearing with a gray datapad in hand, taking a deep whiff of that freshly-flattened grass smell. She turned back to face the crew as she was called, eyeing Reman. "We'll, once we assess the existence integrity of the place, we're going to set up camp and find out all that we can from whats left."

Dahlia walked slowly across the clearing as she left the group to their own food-based devices behind her back. She looked around at all of the crew members flopping around like beached fish. "If what I've already collected is true, we should be able to find some really useful stuff down there, provided it's all in one piece. After that, we'll determine what can be pawned, what can be kept, and everything to be recorded." One standing close enough to the captain might imagine the sound of tin foil, but at least she could speak the language of money. Once she reached the edge of the clearing, she turned back and smiled, cocking her head to the side. "I do have a few people in the market for old artifacts. Besides, I'm chronicling this whole ordeal."

The blue-haired lass cleared her throat and grabbed the attention of everyone once things started to settle down. "Alright everyone! W're headed due wast, down the mountain. I dropped a tracker ball down on the way overhead, so it should be enough to get us within sight of the... site." The scholar trailed off as she noticed the small mountain of food that gave its best but futile attempt at hiding behind the ship. She opened her mouth, gazing over at Oliver, but then closed it out of disinterest. "I'm an expeditionist, not an environmentalist. For now I'm not going to ask."

With that, she short lady turned and dipped out of the clearing and into the open treeline, motioning for the group to follow.


Loinia Forest

The forests of Loinia were certainly a sight to behold, just as much from below as they were from above. Sparse beams of sunlight broke through the leaves to reach the forest floor, which was lost in a layer of dried evergreen needles and leaves. The sweet aroma of sap hung in the air like a blanket, which grew stronger with each step forward. Dense patches of brush and brier were cut away as the group found themselves making their own path down the mountain. The observant could hear the sound of scuttling animals in the distance, all of whom were cautiously avoiding the off-worlders. Dark shadows of two-legged creatures strode into the valley away from the group, to the dismay of a flock of small birds. The sound of the whistling wind was soon overtaken by the sound of gushing water as the group cleared the brush. The small streams that trickled down the mountain flowed into one another, growing in size until they formed a modest river that cut it's own path down the mountain as well. An array of colorful flowers and ferns had sprouted around the river, but no fish or animals were to be seen.

The walk from there became relatively easier, sticking to the clearer sides of the river as long as possible. With a minute free from brush-chopping to catch her breath, Dahlia spoke up. "I'm not fully sure what we'll find down there, but if what I've studied is true, we're not going to be dealing with anything ordinary. These people, Arcadians... they're said to have had technology we still don't grasp today. I think all the "from above" metaphors I've sifted through means they've either come from very far away, or somewhere out of our reach." The scholar paused, as she watched the river bend off unexpectedly into a narrow cave. The captain checked her tracker, looking away from the water. "Either way, we should be careful. I doubt the forest has been doing the structure many favors."

With the river gone, it was back to brush cutting. The sound of the water slowly intensified again after many minutes, and breaks in the trees could be seen on the horizon ahead. While it was overcast outside, the light was enough bright enough to result in uncomfortable squinting. The terrain become rockier and more jagged, with the large and varied ferns breaking apart to allow moss to become the apex plant.
 
"My money is that Arcadians are an advanced race of times past. Though god help me if an ancient evil wakes from this shit. I signed up to make a quick buck, not save the universe from whatever evil killed off the Aradians." Miko said as he walked behind Dahlia. "Then again maybe the Arcadians are the ancient evil and in that case we are doing god's work by stealing...think the technical term is excavating."

He had stopped for a moment to admire the mound of food that seemed to spawn out of nowhere. He knew some things had been going down on the ship but this for sure was not what he pictured.
 
Oliver's grin dropped as he faced Finn after hearing the obvious disappointment in his words, "No, not the food I serve to eat..." he trailed off thinking of the man who had taught him and the lesson he'd learned from his mistakes. "While I may have this power, I seldom ever feed anyone but myself with it, I learned not to from the man who taught me and who lost everything from this ability and how he cheated at life with it." Oliver moved over to stand in front of him and out a hand on his shoulder, "I can assure you I have not been cooking with conjured food, I still don't know if there is any side effects from eating it so only I ever eat anything not grown of natural means."

Removing his hand he grabbed his things and moved to follow the captain as they made their way into the forest, "That being said on this trip it may prove to be the difference between life and death, and as much as I won't feed it to anyone without telling them if they ask then I provide. It is identical to other food in every way as long as I don't alter it and I can make base ingredients and cook those how I wish." Oliver marched on behind Dahlia hoping the merc wouldn't see him as some dark arts cheat after his little show, suddenly he felt a wave of tiredness hit him like an iron fist and collapsed to one knee with one hand on his head, "Must have overdone it, shit."
 
Even under the many many protective layers of his suit, you could probably still see the very thoughtful look on Finn's face - He knew the kind of person Oliver was, or at least the kind of person he had been told Oliver was, yet besides that one scrape involving a pink wrestler and a gas tanker, Finn saw Oliver as a fairly decent person.

Sure he was a conman and his line of work was lying to people, but people seemed to forget that Finn hunted people for a living so maybe he wasn't the best judge of character.

He clanked over to the fallen spaghetti-conjurer and offered a gloved hand. "Give me your pack, and don't argue the point"
 
Juryrig couldn't help but giggle madly with a wide grin plastered on his face, for that whole incident was just a blast! Oliver made so much food, and had actually broken Juryrig's Alchemical Horse; the conman made 800 kilograms of meat, pasta, and cheese, and that much mass was enough to shatter all the legs! That was absolutely fantastic for Juryrig; failure meant more tests where in order, and Juryrig cannot deny the primal instinct to tinker and test for the life of him. Rigging the ship up with some of his wild upgrades simply won't do, Juryrig needed more to mess with... Soon, later, eventually. In the meantime, the madman followed the blueberry employer into the forest to get paid to uncover the secrets of...

.... Of, ehm...

... Juryrig shrugged, and concluded he could just ask Dahlia again later; he knew she just said something about arcades.

The mad genius roamed the woods with the group, paying no heed to Oliver with his stamina issues. The pretty trees, and the songs of nature, were more demanding of the inventor's attention. "Ah Thomas, I say this a lot, but you're really missing out on fun times. I mean, look here! Another forest that doesn't look like a shit show." Juryrig mumbled under his breath, talking to nobody in particular. As always, the smiling Juryrig got no answer, to in which he simply shrugged. "Suit yourself, mate. Lemme know when you get back."

The moment the group arrived to the rocky terrain, Juryrig went out of his way to climb the biggest, jaggediest rocks he could like he was a mountain goat. His haversack bounced and jumbled the contents noisily as he leapt from rock to rock, however the bag never let one item escape from within it. "Woo hoohoohoo!
We got wicked rocks right here, folks! It's a crime that we didn't come here to surf on this moss, I'm telling you that much!"
 
"There are many like these 'Arcadians' throughout the cosmos- ancient beings with such great technology that it seems magical. To mystify them is dangerous." said the space-knight to Dahlia. He'd probably had the most experience out of them all with ancient space-faring empires. So far, these Arcadians reminded him of the Kingdom of Heaven. A bunch of arrogant bastards they were, flouting their wings and other highly advanced tech and generally acting "above" everyone else. Didn't save them when the Order blasted through their Pearly Gates and stormed the Golden Streets. A very fond memory, truth be told.

"Safe to say that the majority will still bleed if you shoot them."
 
Deep within Reman's mind, thoughts were slowly coiling into a mass of questions, pondering and pontificating whether or not these Arcadians were related in any way to the object on his brace. 99 to 1 odds say that they aren't, but it was still worth wondering anyway. Suddenly, his concentration was broken by the smell of... Pasta?

Trying to ignore the massive mountain of wheat-based noodles, Reman asks: "I mean, even so, there's always a chance for some mystical aspect of these kinds of civilizations. I've seen plenty that I don't understand, yet I am exposed to anyway. We have to leave every possibility open, no matter how ludicrous."
 
Loinia Forest

Dahlia continued, absently listening to Oliver with his silly explanations. She stopped briefly and turned on her heels to yank him off the ground. "Come on now, we haven't even made it to the site yet. If you're really tired, you can set up camp when we get there!" She turned back, continuing to make her way down the moss-covered slope. On their way once again, the scholar turned her head to look at Reman and Churchill as they spoke up. "I understand. One of our goals here is to pin down what all is true." In a mix of rock surfing and careful descent, the group of ragtag individuals approached the clearing. The bright curtain of light pulled away as they emerged from the darkened canopy, the sound of cascading water filling their ears.

As their eyes adjusted, the group found themselves atop a steep rock face that sat out high above the ground below. They faced a round crater that stretched several hundred feet below them, hidden away beneath the stretched canopy of ancient trees whose roots still clung to the sheer rock face. A large waterfall cascaded down the rocky wall to the left of the group, no doubt formed by the many streams staggering down the mountain. The pillar of water crashed at the bottom in great white plumes, drawing the eyes of many towards the oddly unnatural shapes breaking through the mist.

Masked partially by the mist and the leaves, the shape of a building could be made out. It sat neatly in the bottom of the crater, with a broken dome marking its highest center point. It's construction was hard to make out from above, but it appears to be built from a mix of stone and metal. The building sat on solid ground, in the midst of many trees and weeds. From this high up, it was difficult to get a sense for the true scale of the structure they were dealing with. While the rock face encircling the shrine was steep, it could be scaled down with some care.

Expedition Site 001

Dahlia peered down into the crater, then back up to the overcast sky. A smile formed on her face. "We're here." The scholar reached behind her to the side of her pack, digging into the fabric pocket. She pulled out what looked like a small grey flare gun, and unhooked the neat coil of blue nylon rope from the bag. With a satisfying little twirl, she pointed the gun towards the ground. There was a loud pneumatic crack as a T-shaped metal spike was shot from the barrel, embedding itself deep into a thin fissure in the ground. The crack echoed far out into the air, stirring up a flock of birds across the ring of trees that sat atop the lip of the crater. With the lightest hint of a smirk, she holstered the pike launcher. "One at a time, now." Dahlia instructed as she tied the rope around the spike, using it as an anchor point. Gently hopping down from rock to rock, the dive into the crater took only a minute or two.

The air was a little cooler where Dahlia reached the bottom, not far from one of runoff streams of the waterfall. One foot on the damp rock wall, she stuck a boot out and tested the state of the ground. The soil was a bit squishy, composed of softened dirt and layers of decaying plant matter. "Come on down!" She yelled from the bottom of the crater. They were now much closer to the building, and the scale of the thing started to set in. It was about three stories tall in the middle, four if you counted the dome. The building was skirted with large trees with flat canopies, like overgrown hedges. Dahlia took a few steps forward on the dampened ground, making her way to a notable hole in the ground. She reached down and out of it, pulled a small metal flare. It was silver, made of cheap metal with a hardened rubber casing protecting the small tracker ball that rested inside of it. After a quick inspection, the scholar turned off the gadget with the little button on the side of it, folding it into a neat tube. For now, she waited for the rest of the crew to make their way down.
 
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Finn leant forward and peered over the edge of the crater, letting out a long whistle that sounded more like a robotic chirp as he took in the drop that their gracious leader had just abseiled down to the bottom of. He... doubted that the rope would hold his weight, there was always the chance that it was some kind of super-rope but he was sick and tired of being crammed into a ship, he wanted to get moving!

Without any further warning, the armoured man took a step forward and plunged off the edge.

It was a short time before the curved side of the crater rushed up to meet his feet as he began sliding down the crater , weaving in between crags and rocky outcrops as his arms were outstretched for balance.

There was that signature grin plastered across his face although as usual nobody could see it.

One outcrop in particular appeared to be much bigger upclose than it had been and he didn't exactly have that much room to turn so instead he squatted down more and pushed off, lifting his legs up as he sailed over the rocky mass, a feeling of weightlessness filling his body until his boots sunk down into the soft dirt, leaving deep trails until he suddenly ground to a halt and balanced himself to remain upright.

"Holy crap, that was cool" he exclaimed quite enthusiastically.
 
"Fair enough," Churchill shrugged to Reman. "But my point still stands: no matter how ludicrous the situation, there remain very few problems in life that can't be solved with the careful and precise application of a shotgun."

Like this rock face. That would require wings. Without another word, Churchill dove, head-first, after Finn. He spread his arms wide like a birds as gravity pulled his head downwards below his feet. He fell for a moment before two glowing wings shimmered to life on his back, and he began to slow about twenty feet from impact. He gracefully touched down beside the other armored human, and the wings disappeared.
 
Weirdos. All of them. And why not, so would Marie be as well. Her feet crackled with electricity as she stepped into the string, magnetized to the cord. With a deep breath in, and out, she visualized the schematics for electromagnets...

A few seconds later, Marie, one hand out to the side and both feet and another hand on the cord, leaving a trail of electrical sparks, slid down the cord, making a very agile little hop at the end.
 
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Oliver barely had time to hand the armour clad man his pack before his outstretched hand was grasped by Dahlia instead of Finn as the captain hoisted him to his feet with a rough pull, his head swam as the sudden movement triggered a wave of nausea from over exerting his conjuration ability earlier. "Knew I shouldn't have made the unholy cheese." he muttered to himself stumbling forwards before catching himself and correcting his footing continuing to follow the group.

As they reached the crater he watched as several of the crew simply jumped over the edge or in Marie's case, used the cable in a slightly different purpose than intended, without the effort to show off Oliver simply took hold of the cable and made a controlled descent into the depths, almost losing his grip more than once due to the slight charge Marie had left behind.

Reaching the bottom his hands almost immediately retreated into the pockets of his coat as though they did not wish to be seen, Oliver looked around at the interesting surroundings and simply moved to find his own little spot to rest his back against the craters edge while he waited for the others and prayed no one decided to jump over the edge above him.
 
Cognis watched the more adventurous members of the crew take some rather unordthodox approaches to entering a canyon, observing the sudden display of abilities. "Sir Churchill never mentioned anything about wings..."

He then turned his attention to the expeditionaries still remaining on the cliff, eventually settling his gaze on Arbitrated. Given what he knew about her physicality, she may find some difficulty in using the rope...

"Miss Shan," The android piped up "Would you like some assistance in descending?"

"Hm?" Peering down the side carefully, the child-sized sage was lost amidst her own thoughts for the time - until, of course, Cog's cheerful, inquisitive voice shook her back to reality. "Uhhhh..... Hmm... Actualy- yes. It'd probably be faster and smoother for everyone. Buh, uh... How do you plan on doing so?" Turning to face the child-minded robot, Shan's asymmetrical eyes glistened a little bit in the sunlight.

Within a second of the word 'yes' leaving her mouth, the small woman found herself swept off her feet as Cog hooked an arm around her knees and hoisted her into his arms, breaking into a run towards the ledge. "Like this!" he said, taking a flying leap off the edge of the cliff with Arbitrated held tightly, screaming, in his arms.

"AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" The shrill squeal of Arbitrated as she plummeted in Cog's grip. Even as the wind rushed past them he could sense her heating up, her body temperature easily jumping another five degrees after her lungs cut off her call. She instinctively squirmed about and grabbed back onto the robot for dear life.

After about a second of freefall, the android's jump jets burst to life, firing at approximately fifty percent of their maximum output while slowly ramping up to maximum right before they hit the ground. When they landed, the impact was more akin to someone hopping down a two or three-foot drop than the actual distance of several hundred.

"There you go!" Cog said in a tone that would, in any other creature, be accompanied by a massive grin.

Then, after a brief pause. "We're here!" He said, followed by another moment of silence.

"Er, you can let go now, Miss Shan."

Shivering and trembling like a leaf, Arbles released her white-knuckled grip on Cog. "H-hey Cog? C-can you uh, n-never do that without warning againnnNNnnn-?" She stumbled awkwardly at the finisher of her request, before opting to simply flop, more or less, onto her bum, breathing heavily and trying to settle down her currently agitated heart. "T-though I guess that was... Certainly- f-f-f-faster..."

"Safer, too!" Cog exclaimed "And certainly! I'll make my intentions clearer next time."

"Y-yeah..." And there she goes, pulling apart another wrapper. A granola bar this time. Stuffing the wrapper loudly into a side pocket of her pack, Arbs pretty much ate the thing in halves.
 
"Sounds alright then." Reman said. He looked at the treacherous path before him, and decided that he'd go in as cautiously as possible. Not taking any chances, he pulled out his key, and insert it into the brace without popping up the mechanism. The brace blared "CYCLONE! BR-R-R-R-REAK!"
before Reman made a full leap off the edge into the crater below, and rather than feeling gravity's full brunt, what looked like a small cushion of air drifted below him, slowing his descent tremendously before he reached the bottom. The cloud subsided with a nice satisfying puff, gently landing Reman on the ground. Shortly after, the brace ejected the key violently, hitting Reman square in the jaw before falling into his arms. Trying not to yell in pain, Reman weakly utters; "I should have gotten used to this by now, but it still hurts every damned time."
 
"Pah-LEAZE! Rope? Who needs that, with inventions like these?!" On some cue that Juryrig didn't give out clearly, a huge, rubbery tongue erected out of the haversack; the tongue of his Munch-Munch Turret. It slammed its sticky appendage on the ground, and uplifted his sack-toting master impressively.

Juryrig dug into his haversack, and threw a 4x6 iron plate on the ground. Munchie, using its tongue, hopped onto the plate and stuck onto it with its sticky saliva. "SCREW ROPE, IT'S BACK TO SURFING FOR THE GREATEST ALCHEMICAL ENGINEER!"

Munchie moved over the edge, and the madman went down the craters edge, surfing down the dirt, grass, and rock. The board grounded loudly against the terrain, always making sparks whenever it hit a rock. Regardless of how clearly unsafe it was to surf on such a steep incline, Juryrig was quite happy for the experience.

The mad surfer flew over Oliver's head, grazing his hair, and finally slowed to a stop in the middle of the crater. In a swift motion, Juryrig was back on the ground, and Munchie held the iron plate with its tongue. "Gee willikers, what a adrenaline rush! Gotta say that, um... That was fun, but I'm bored of surfing now. Again, totally fun while it lasted, but a guy can only surf so much, you know? Absolute blast, but now it's boring." The turret pulled the plate into the inventor's haversack for future use.

"Noooooooooooow... Lesse where we are..." Juryrig looked around, then looked straight up, leaning really far backwards to the point where the haversack was pressed against the ground, his hand over his eyes so he could see better. "... Hey guys, we're at the bottom of the crater! I never noticed that!" The man stood erect, his face scrunched in confusion. "I get this place is a dump, but why build it down here where no one would see it? I would do the exact opposite."

The fact that this is, in actuality, a ruin, completely escaped Juryrig.
 
“I don’t feel any electromagnetic waves...” Marie replied. “Then again, the facility might just have no power.”

She examined the corners, here and there. There should be something, there must be. Was there? Maybe apply some magnetic flux or what-have-you to see if you induce a current somewhere?

Marie realized she was looking very silly, sort of wandering around, crouched down, hand held flat above the ground like a metal detector. She got up, a little embarrassed, and decided to just use her feet as the detectors instead, trudging around in circles, eyes glued directly to the ground.
 
Expedition Site 001

Dahlia watched absentmindedly as the band of mercenaries and adventurers took their share of normal and... flavorful dives into the crater. Her head twisted sharply at the sound of a screech, her blue eyes widening only in time for her to pull her hands up to shield them from the exhaust of Cognis' taxi service. Moments after realizing both were fine, Dahlia stamped to the right of Cognis, delivering a firm slap of percussive maintenance to the back of the android's head. Such an act would be moronic under normal operating circumstances, but that likely wasn't the first time it had happened. It most certainly wouldn't be the last.

Dahlia shook her gloved hand, recovering from the slap herself. "You've got to limit yourself, Cog." With a brief sigh, she turned her attention back to the site in front of them. The crashing of the waterfall lightly blanketed the area in mist, rendering the rocks scattered around the site slick and shiny. The captain carefully made their way closer to the front of the building, standing underneath the canopy of an ancient, twisted tree. Despite natures attempts at reclaiming the structure, the building ahead of them was in relatively good shape, still holding a ceiling and most of its walls. Two mildly large doors were built into the front end, facing a square landing that sat a few feet above the ground.

A half-sunken staircase connected the entrance of the building to the ground, the last few stairs hidden somewhere beneath the squishy blanket of plant matter. Fallen and broken columns sat splayed out to the side, suggesting a roof once stretched out over the stairs. The walls of the building were constructed from smooth, grey shaped bricks larger than some of the crew themselves- not that that left much margin. Metal supports jutted out from the sides of the building, arching up towards the dome after they scaled the wall. Many were in solid condition, while rust and wear had torn the others of them apart, eating away at the metal until it was a layered flaky mess. The building was appeared to have two wings to it, a curved one that rounded the back facing the waterfall, and another one that was.... mostly missing. Whatever remained of it had either sunken into the ground, eroded away, or sat buried underneath the rotting trunk of a great tree.

Dahlia whistled, giving the building another look-over. "Better shape than I would have guessed." The scholar took a few steps forwards, testing the integrity of the front stairs. The ground didn't give away, so she sat her pack down on the landing in front of the doors.. "We'll take only what we need to look around inside. ...Remember, you guys signed the wavers. Try not to knock anything down." With that, the scholar started digging through her back.

Across the site, Marie's examinations came back with only a few conclusive results. Whatever power this building may have, it must have been an internal system. The black metal supports that were intact seemed to be covered in an insulating black material, with only some bits exposed. Perhaps to reroute lightning strikes? Who knows. The supports extended well below the ground. Small bits of metal could be found sparsely in the thick bed of plant matter around the outside, mostly flakes and small bits resembling bolts.

Sorry the pause took so long, college took a dampener on my writing will. Lets get back into things!
 
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