Dr. Helen Magnus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notsocommon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-07-02 07:42 pm
notsocommon) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-07-02 07:42 pm
Once More Unto The Breach, Dear Friends, Once More [Closed]
WHO: Helen Magnus
WHERE: 6I village, canyon breach, 7I village
WHEN: 2 - 10 July
OPEN TO: Bodhi Rook, Ned Stark, Mark Watney, Clint Barton
WARNINGS: None at this time.
As happened the last time an expedition was mounted, Helen found herself as part of a team to go and investigate something at the edge of the known world. This time, though, the known world had expanded to great degree and it seemed that the canyon that had hemmed them in and been the bane of all those trying to escape the last several months had rent in twain, leaving them with another side of the world to push forward and survey.
Of those she found herself traveling with, only Mark was truly familiar to her. She knew the others in passing, yes, but knowing faces and part of a name weren't the same as knowing someone and she hoped that they were as stalwart and competent as they seemed to be upon first glance. All of them seemed well aware of what such a trek was going to entail, at least, and Helen wasn't concerned that she'd end up having to carry a load bigger than she'd intended in asking them along.
She wished, as always, that she had supplies to be able to draw a map or make notes about the lay of the land beyond the breach. While she knew the forest and fields beyond the village well enough, everything beyond the canyon wall was going to be new territory entirely and she wanted some way to memorialize it for the others. She hoped that someone else had access to paper and pen, that someone would be willing to give up such a precious commodity for the good of the community and for the furthering of knowledge. Supplies gathered and goodbyes said, the hike was begun to the edge of the known world and into the great beyond.
"I have no idea what's beyond this breach," Helen said. "I cannot even speculate, since none of us have been able to climb it. Geology was never my strong suit."
WHERE: 6I village, canyon breach, 7I village
WHEN: 2 - 10 July
OPEN TO: Bodhi Rook, Ned Stark, Mark Watney, Clint Barton
WARNINGS: None at this time.
As happened the last time an expedition was mounted, Helen found herself as part of a team to go and investigate something at the edge of the known world. This time, though, the known world had expanded to great degree and it seemed that the canyon that had hemmed them in and been the bane of all those trying to escape the last several months had rent in twain, leaving them with another side of the world to push forward and survey.
Of those she found herself traveling with, only Mark was truly familiar to her. She knew the others in passing, yes, but knowing faces and part of a name weren't the same as knowing someone and she hoped that they were as stalwart and competent as they seemed to be upon first glance. All of them seemed well aware of what such a trek was going to entail, at least, and Helen wasn't concerned that she'd end up having to carry a load bigger than she'd intended in asking them along.
She wished, as always, that she had supplies to be able to draw a map or make notes about the lay of the land beyond the breach. While she knew the forest and fields beyond the village well enough, everything beyond the canyon wall was going to be new territory entirely and she wanted some way to memorialize it for the others. She hoped that someone else had access to paper and pen, that someone would be willing to give up such a precious commodity for the good of the community and for the furthering of knowledge. Supplies gathered and goodbyes said, the hike was begun to the edge of the known world and into the great beyond.
"I have no idea what's beyond this breach," Helen said. "I cannot even speculate, since none of us have been able to climb it. Geology was never my strong suit."
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The fact that Ned and Clint are here supports my theory, too, and as long as this skinny Bodhi kid doesn't do anything stupid, I think we'll make a good, sensible team. That's important -- Contrary to popular belief, these sorts of things don't go better with adventurers on board.
"Given that the properties of physics don't always apply here in the first place, I'm not so sure it matters whether you know much about geology."
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Clint's prepared for this by arming up - he's got his throwing knives that he always carries, but he's also grabbed one of the bows and arrow sets from the inn because of course he has, it's what he's most comfortable with and shooting is just instinctual. Beyond that, he's got his work gloves and one of the lengths of rope from storage, since there's a lot of use for rope in a variety of situations. "I'm more worried about whatever's over there and if it's waiting to attack us." Of course he is. But that's the kind of life he's lead, and assuming that any territory he's about to go into is hostile has saved his life more than once before. "We've never been able to predict what this place is gonna throw at us before, so there's no telling what we'll get this time."
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"I think we should try to cover as much ground as we can while we have this break in the rain. The clouds are still heavy and it might start up again at any moment but if we try to break for it, who knows how long we might have to wait before we set out again. I'd rather just push through if it's all the same to the rest of you."
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As it is, I'd gotten to the point awhile back that a little less rain or a little more rain doesn't make much difference to my disposition while hiking -- I'm soaked regardless. But if possible, though, I'd really rather not sleep in a puddle.
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Hiking the provided backpack up over his shoulder to keep it from falling down his arm, Clint starts out in the direction of the canyon, bow in his right hand and letting his senses widen to take in as much of the space around him as he can. It's more difficult to keep track of everything in a densely packed forest, but between the earthquake and the sudden, almost violent, change in weather, Clint's sure that a few hungry animals are going to be showing up. Even though it's unlikely that a group of five is going to be attacked, if something does poke its head out he can likely shoot it for dinner. With who knows what going on right now, their group's going to have to provide for themselves as much as possible.
"If we have to, we can break down some branches and make a kind of floor on a campsite, but those're always uncomfortable, even if you cover them with pine needles."
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He wishes the most for a sword of some kind; it need not even be Ice, the one passed down through the generations of his family. Instead, he's borrowed a hatchet and a something called a "survival kit" from the inn storeroom. The hatchet is a poor substitute for a proper sword, but a sharp blade in a pinch is better than bare fists. He's brought along the gloves he'd been given some time ago, though they are tucked into his pocket since they're more for insulation than protection, and the weather is hot enough as it is.
As Clint begins to walk, Ned takes up the rear, keeping a close eye on whatever might make itself known in their wake.
"We should take advantage of lack of rain to make as much headway as we can, but shouldn't rush to the point of being careless. As Bodhi pointed out, the ground will be shifting and slick. Mind your footing and the solidity of the earth underfoot as you go."
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"Maybe we'll be lucky enough that the rain will slack off some tomorrow," I say as I crunch along after the group toward a small outcropping of rock. "I'm not looking forward to navigating wet rock slides."
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"We're not going to be getting the same weather as the world outside from within that little crack," he says helpfully, beginning to unload tarp and rope as soon as he's clear on what the stopping point is. In this case he's speaking from experience. He might not have been out of the city very much, but Jedha is all wind-carved rock. "If we're lucky, shelter. If, um, we aren't..." Inescapable flash flood, rock slide, etc. At this point he's at least noticed his own pessimism, and he smirks just a little. "It'll be fun."
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The camp that night is mostly dry, since there hasn't been so much flung rain as continuous pouring, and the ground under the rock outcrop is dry except for the occasional splatter. Dinner's a bit sparse, but more or less enough, and while the camping's rough it's not like any of them are reluctant volunteers and didn't know what they were getting into on this trip. The local Hilton it ain't, but Clint's fairly sure the only things any of them really want are to not get caught in any more natural disasters or get attacked by wild animals. He's adjusted back to the "dozing state" he'd perfected in S.H.I.E.L.D, and he sleeps with his hand on his knives all night, just in case. At least it's not freezing or blaringly hot anymore; after the heatwave, it seems almost cold, and at least water is plentiful.
There is, however, a rolling rumble in the night that shakes everything and makes some chips and bits fall out of the rocks around them, but it's definitely not as big a shake as the one that broke the canyon. It also seems that anything that could be shaken loose by an earthquake already had been, so nothing was rolling through to crash their heads. Doesn't make for an easy night, though.
In the morning, it's a cold breakfast and the option of running out into a fresh rainfall to wake up, but their plans haven't changed and there's no use putting it off. Clint scrubs his face and the back of his neck with a couple handfuls of rainwater, the closest he's going to get to a shower, before quickly restringing the bow and picking up his bag. "If everyone's ready, let's get going."
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The thrill of getting to explore something new helped to clear her mind anyway. She had always wanted to be at the forefront of the known world, to push the boundaries of science and explore new horizons and frontiers and while this place was isolated and enclosed, she'd at least managed to have two opportunities to do just that on behalf of the other villagers. That, in and of itself, brought a bit of a spring to her step that she might not otherwise have.
The breach in the canyon wall itself was large enough that two might cross alongside one another but Helen looked back to the others, wanting their opinion before heading through. "I think we ought to go through one at a time. It looks wide enough for more than one but considering we've had some tremors, it might be safer to have a bit of space in case the rocks shift. I'm not afraid of pushing forward first if it's all right with the rest of you."
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Truthfully, this expedition probably should have waited awhile until we were certain the tectonics had settled and there was less of a risk of aftershocks, fewer loose rocks poised to come crashing into the breach. But there are people who have been trapped in our little village for the better part of a year, me included, and this is the first opportunity any of us have had to get out. We're lucky we were able to convince the others to let us scout first before everybody piles through.
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But some precautions won't hurt. "Here, take this," he says as he pulls the coil of rope from around his shoulder and torso, untying the end to hand to Helen. "Guide rope - carry it with you or tie it around your waist and if you feel anything start to shake, tug the rope and we can pull you out before things go too bad. And once you're on the other side, the rest of us can cross over keeping a hand on it in case of accident. It's not perfect, but..." Well, they don't have any of the stuff he really wants in case of a rock fall, including miners' helmets. And there's not enough time to fell trees with their little hatchets and strip then down to logs to use as tunnel props. Maybe later, if this whole thing turns out viable and somewhere they'll want to open up to frequent travel.
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"I'd be happy to be the last to cross, if others wish to go ahead of me. I can keep a hand on the rope on this side as everyone goes through, keep it steady, and then pull it with me when I cross over after the others."
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"And it also probably goes without saying that we need to get through as fast as possible. Don't put yourself in danger, and be aware of the terrain, but the faster we're through, the safer we all are," I add as I tie myself onto the line.
The going is not nearly the pace I would prefer, with rocks and debris littering the way, making careful steps a necessity. The high walls make it difficult to judge the time, but we've been plugging away for maybe an hour, maybe a little more when it starts to feel like we might finally get to the other side. I can make out trees through the breach, swaying gently in the breeze.
Wait. It's not from the breeze.
The earth begins to undulate again underfoot, and I shoot a glance up, pebbles already starting to ping down from above.
"Run," I urge, as loud as I dare. "Run now!"
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The rocks start to shake and rumble and shift and they run, and run, caught in that unbearable moment where time is frozen and nothing seems to change unless it's going to change for the worse, the light at the end of the tunnel not seeming any closer and the trees swaying violently outside the gap in the rocks. Pebbles and larger stones start crashing down around them, and Clint throws his left arm over his head to protect that and the back of his neck and runs as fast as he possibly can while still being at least vaguely careful about where he puts his feet. But finally - finally - they burst into the open sky on the other side, and he doesn't stop, because they're still too close to the rocks and they stand almost as much of a chance of being hit by a falling one if they linger, so he keeps running for another couple hundred feet before pulling to a stop in a small clearing in the trees. That should be enough distance to protect them from anything falling; if the entire cliff goes, there's no way they'll be able to get out of the disaster zone in time, so it's better to not risk unnecessary injury.
Especially considering the way the ground is still jumping and swaying beneath their feet, trees pitching, branches cracking and crashing around them. An echoing, thudding rumble that matches the earthquake sounds from behind them, and Clint looks back the way they came with enough of his attention spared from keeping himself from being hit with anything to see rocks tumble and fall into the gap in the rock they'd just crossed, falling into a configuration that blocks the tunnel almost as well as any wall of concrete possibly could. They'd probably be able to tunnel their way through... in about two years or so.
"су́кин сын."
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The Russian curse that Clint let out was definitely shared, though, and Helen added a few of her own. There was no way they'd get back through the way they'd came and there'd only be forward to press. Forward and onward, for now, and hope that they found a way to tunnel back through or loop back around.
"There's no way we can move that rubble, not now. We should press onward and see if we can find an alternate path. It would be better than wasting our energy on trying to dig out those rocks to go back."
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When the rope had been passed out he'd only looped it through his belt to conserve the length; Helen's point is well-made, but he wants to make just a quick check of the situation to make sure it's as hopeless as it looks. There might be some kind of keystone in there that would open the place up again, after all, so Clint opens his belt to release himself from the rope line, jogging back up to the rock as the tremors fade away. He has to dodge to the side to avoid one last falling rock, but it doesn't take long at all to get back to the opening. Once there, he doesn't waste time, leaning close to inspect the rockfall, pushing at a couple likely-looking ones with his hands and, when that fails, kicking them with his feet; the ones on the very outside of the pile shift easily enough, one falling off to the side, but the further in it goes the more everything is locked in place and it's clear it won't be moving without some heavy construction equipment. The whole inspection only takes a couple of minutes before Clint curses once more, gives a rock one last kick with his boot, and moves back to the group.
"It's stuck - it'd be easier to get a broken cork out of a wine bottle with our bare hands than move all that. If we wanted to break ourselves, we could, but who knows how far we'd get through. Moving on's the best option we've got; might be that shake opened up something else, since it closed that one." It's a long shot, sure, but long shots are all they've got available right now. Clint picks his belt up once more and straps it back on around his waist, forgoing the rope line now that they're out of the tunnel, and strikes out to the east once more. Sitting around waiting is going to accomplish nothing.
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Things could be much worse. I know that from far too much experience. Nobody in our party is injured beyond the superficial. We're blocked from the others, but we can still move forward, and that's worth a whole hell of a lot. But these moment are always hard.
Pushing my soaked hair back from my forehead, I turn and look toward the thick line of trees.
"Let's go and see if we can find some shelter," I say, and begin plodding forward through the mud.
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It's only a moment before he's standing back up, concealing the ache in his leg by focusing his attention on the others.
"Is everyone all right?" he asks, glancing around from person to person. When he lands on Mark, he nods in agreement. "Yes, I believe that is a good idea." Movement might be one of the only things to help ease his leg now, and so after ensuring that the others are apt to follow, he begins to walk along the outskirts of the new and strange area in which they all find themselves. His pace is steady, though not excruciatingly quick. There's a lingering thought in his mind, a tingling, of how perfectly timed the collapse had been and, worst of all, how utterly unsurprised he is at its happening.