Zeitgeist Blue

"Thanks!" Nicole said, practically beaming at Abigail. The young artificer gave an internal sigh of relief, expecting that people would be asking for something for exchange and being pleasantly surprised when none did. Veronica and Elizabeth's easy agreements helped her mood and she wiped the sweat beading on he brow, reaching forward to flip the helmet upside down. "Well Jack,"" she said, knowing it would irk him, before diving back into her explanation. "It wasn't so much as what I did as what was done to me. See, it was supposed to be an easy bust but my uncle was expecting me and he'd brought friends, this skeevy technomancer and her partner-in-crime technopath. No problem but Uncle Will must have cooked up a ward set to my signature and it looped around all my protective layers to hit Bellios where it hurts." "I'd be impressed if I wasn't so annoyed." There was a small rune-shaped jack at the helmet's edge, where the head fitted into neck, and she pointed at it. "Right in the Self. Big S here. Technically speaking, this isn't the armor I wore last week." "And this is where you guys come in." She set the helmet back on the table and looked at each of the members, giving Veronica a knowing smile. "You don't need to know anything about what I do because right now I don't need artificers, I need fighters to go right inside my helmet's central interface." She waved a hand in mock humility. "Study all you want when you're inside. Once it's fully operational again, it'll be a pain to open it up like this. Really, you're only looking at the most complex creation of the greatest smith this side of the Prime dimension. Bet not even the Master Mage has anything half like this. Right, Jack?" She leaned back as she ended her explanation, letting the whole thing sink in. Then she gestured to their chairs. "Carved underneath each one are multiple runes that together would bring your Selves, and everything on you right now, near where Bellios' Self is. I need you to bring my helmet and let it merge with the representation of the CPU." "It'll take some time and protect it while it does." She sniffled, her hand hovering over something that looked like a lightswitch on the table. "Oh, and one more thing: its electronic defense systems are still active and it's going to give its all, especially this close to the CPU." "So here's your World War Two in a shell, Liz. Keep that helmet on. It's cute but I'm teaching you camouflage next time we're in the Danger Room." There was a pause and then Nicoleo gestured impatiently. "So if no one's got anymore questions, someone grab the helmet and I'll flip the switch." (OOC: Feel free to post IC. If you're scanning the thing, any description would do. With magic, it'll probably change to fit the perception of the scanner. I'll be putting up the next GM post in a few days.)

The altar top is flat, leaves and dirt strewn over it, and presents nothing of interest so you move down to the tableau carved around the whole altar. You make progress, slowly cataloging the individual characters, subjects and themes which seem to repeat, and Neil follows you, assisting you with your instructions. You consult Neil's journal frequently to double check on the stories and the sun is hanging high in the sky when you have a workable theory. The Moon goddess seemed to be only one god in a pantheon of gods, but she held a special place in the hearts of the Cuespac. They saw her as a mother-protector, watching over the world and its inhabitants during the night as her husband, the Sun, did during the day. Yet even deities fought among themselves and in these struggles the Moon herself was often attacked. When the god of beasts, a frequent and terrifying foe of the Moon, first devoured her in a pique of jealousy it was said the world was brought in darkness for decades, but the Beast was eventually repelled by a small group consisting of the Moon's children and humans. They freed her and she was eternally grateful. Yet the Beast was not vanquished and it would continue to attack the Moon, causing her to vanish from the night sky. You realize that the Cuespac were describing a lunar eclipse. There are more inconsequential details you could study - the Moon and her children, the relationship between her and humanity, the astrological cycles of the year -- when you are interrupted by a cough. Still kneeling by the altar your eyes meet Neil's but he is as confused as you are. "Don't look at me. I didn't do anything." "No, but I had," someone says, all smooth silk and dark cocoa, above you. She sits there, knees gathered under her chin, staring directly at you. Eyes like smoldering coals. Hair long and white as the moon. She wears a red and white woven cloth, wrapped around her to act as a dress and an ornamental sash around her waist. A cloak covers her slender shoulders. Gold bracelets jangle from her wrists as she moves, regarding you. She cocks her head sideways and you catch a long, red slash across her throat. "Hello. What brings you here?"

As you watch the room becomes dimmer. You hear thunder and the patter of rain on stone and showers down through the middle of the room. The present still exists, Neil still crouches beside you over the old skeleton but you see the past as if it was as solid as the present. Each layer over the other and as you open your past eyes both present and past exist simultaneously, as real as the other. A man strides in, passing through a clueless Neil. The man looks to be a native, dark-skinned and wearing an old shirt and shorts, barefoot. His clothes are soaked with rain and sweat. On his hand is a heavy duty flashlight, matte black steel, but he wields it like a club. A machete hangs from a scabbard on his belt. But when the torch's light shines on his hands, you see a ring on his finger. Red, like blood enjeweled, wrought in iron. It is the same ring you wear now. He stumbles inside past the wooden door, his eyes wide with desperation and fear, and muttering in Spanish inflected with his native tongue. He rounds on nothing, a pointed finger accusing. <Not-- not like this! You were supposed to be a protector, not this! What have they done to you?> He strides to the platform, an altar you now realize, and strikes it with his torch. <Damn this. Your blood did nothing!> Once again, he smashes the torch on the altar and sparks fly, the light flickering violently. Then he grasps the torch with two hands but before he could strike at it again, he jumps as if startled and snaps his head towards the swinging door. If you thought he looked scared before, he only becomes paler. He draws his machete and begins to swing it wildly, yet still you do not see the source of his fear. <Come on! We'll end this here, you and me! And I'll-- ghkk." The torch and machete clatter to the ground as his hands twitch open to instead reach for his throat, grasping for something that isn't there. He drops to his knees, struggling. You watch for a minute as he loses, as his body turns limp and the struggling slows to a stop. Then when all seems over, his body is dragged away from the altar. You hear a sickening crack and his neck snaps at an awkward angle. His body lays there as the rainwater pours in, turning the ground a morass of leaves, slush and mud. The moonlight filters through, shining upon the altar.

Nicole yelped as Dio landed on the roof. She did not hear the rush of air as her earphones were shutting off the outside noises with music. There was a second's pause as she clutched at her chest and stared bewildered at the huge monster that appeared out of nowhere, trying to identify it. Then she ripped the earphones from her ears with a snort. "Stop doing that," she said with what passed for a growl from a teenage girl. "You know I can't handle jump scares." She glared at the magical dragon devour the branch, but it did not seem to notice her glare and she relented. She lowered the screen of her laptop and maneuvered her wheelchair to face the dragon more fully. "Fifteen years doesn't sound like much when you're going to be living for like forever, you know." More chewing and more glaring, and she sighed, reaching for her thermos to drink some more coffee. "Fifteen years from now?" She dabbed at her mouth with a handkerchief. "Most companies only ask you for your ten year plan and you give some answer like your competing for Miss Universe. But really? Words of advice: don't ask that of people, especially teenagers. No one really has a clue. I have no clue." "Don't know why anyone would want one. It's stifling," she said with a shrug as if taking the words from experience. Nicole leaned forward, steepling her hands under her chin. She looked at Dio, contemplating him as she did a mathematical problem, eyes half-lidded under her glasses. "What's gotten you into such a bad mood tonight? Your Princeship choosing to go on a date with that Southern belle and her tin-foil wearing sister instead of hanging out with you? Trust me, we're on the same boat." She placed a dainty hand on her clavicle and with a mocking smile tried on Judy's accent. "Ah do dare to declare, darlin', you and ah could be the best of friends!"

"Ghosts? Spirits?" Neil says slowly. "And do you know what exactly these glimpses of the past are showing you?" He waves you forward and begins to walk again, leaning one ear towards you, listening, as he stalks through the corridors. It is only a few more minutes when you emerge into the sunlight. It s as you remember in your dream, but the sun beats harshly on you and the jungle has reclaimed the space around the temple, trees and vines reaching out to drape themselves over the temple's lip. You are surrounded by all sides by the Amazon, only stone walls to hold it back. The roof itself is tilted at a noticeable angle and you find yourself slightly leaning the opposite way to keep upright. Certain areas had collapsed on itself or stoop depressed as if waiting for someone to step into one of them and break them. The whole roof is rectangular and in the middle, just above and to your left, sits a square building, small and squat, but made of the same rock as the rest of the temple. "That must be the observatory." Neil points towards the building. "Or what passes for it. It seems to have weathered time well." You trek up as if the roof were a mountain trail and enter through one of its doorways, easily pushing past the thick wooden door. The first thing you see is a raised platform, images carved under its lip, going around it. The walls of the room are also decorated with carvings, most faded and ground into indistinct lumps. On the roof is a man-made slit, opened to the sky, that runs from one end of the room to the other. The whole floor is covered in dust and dead leaves, likely from the opening. "Here's the observatory then," Neil says, looking around. "What're you hoping to find here?" Neil steps inside. There is a sharp crunch, then Neil lets out a yelp and he jumps back in surprise. Looking down, you see a ribcage underneath the leaves and soil, its ribs broken where Neil had stepped through. "Bones?" Neil says, recovering quickly. He steps closer, shifting the nearby leaves with his boot, and in under a minute uncovers the rest of the body, mostly skeleton now, but with strips of old clothing hanging on to its bones. The eye holes stare up at you even as Neil bends down to examine it closer. "These bones are recent, obviously. But how long? A few years? A decade? Maybe more?" "And would these be connected to your dreams somehow?" He asks you.

House Rules Post Considering this would be a combat thread its success is determined most of all by pace. If we are to see this thread until completion there are a few things I'd like to try which would keep the pace. All these points apply to combat. 1. There shall be a time limit of around a week after a GM post for all IC PC posts to be written before I write the next GM post. Same time limit for non-combat posts if nothing is happening but we're waiting on PC turns. 2. If you aren't feeling up to an IC post, just tell me what you are doing in Discord or OOC, then either I or you could roll for your action. I would need a.) the different actions for your turn and b.) the general intent/tactics of the PC for your turn. 3. I shall remind the next person to post in either Discord, if I see you active, or in the OOC thread, if not, a day or two after the last IC PC post. 4. I reserve the right to control your PC for the round if you do not post within the time limit or do #2. I shall try to adhere to the Powers and Tactics portion of the PC's character sheet. 5. If the there is no IC post for the PC, I'll just write down their actions in the GM post, Rule of Cool and all. You can tell me if you want it described some specific way.

You pack up and move out of the main worship area through the way Neil had found. It looked to have been a side entrance, tucked away as it is behind two pillars (one of which has crumbled so that only its base remains). Immediately you begin to climb steps hewn out of the stone walls itself, making for a sturdy climb. Neil's path the previous day is still present and you retrace his steps, him leading the way, using the chopped underbrush and plowed through grass. Sunlight begins to shine in earnest on the two of you through the torn spaces in the walls as you enter the living areas. Day has broken in full. Yet just a few minutes of wading to the bush and searching for a way up, the ring begins to warm and you see a shade at the corner of your vision. You look and it disappears through a room. It would be easy to dismiss but another shade appears down the corridor, seemingly walking away from you. Before you could react or chase it, two more exit a doorway and begin to approach you. More shades form and with them, the light murmur of conversation. The shades pass by you as if you are not even there, muttering amongst themselves. At first, you don't understand the ancient words spoken but slowly they become more comprehensible. "Have you heard that Samin has--" "--goods that I need in ord--" "--your afternoon going, Tish--" They are the words of a community going about their everyday lives you realize. Then a voice drowns all others, as if it were speaking to you. "Now Kayara, come along and help me collect the feathers the seamstresses have been nagging at me to get for them for almost a month now." The voice is motherly, soft-spoken, as if being addressed to a child. And you turn to see a shade looking down at your torso where a small child would have been. If you squint, you could see that it is feminine. It reaches out a hand and walks to a nearby room, holding nothing in its hand though it continues to speak as if guiding a child. "Good girl," the voice says. "I know that you don't like the mean birds but the seamstresses will reward you with a nice headdress and you will look so pretty all the boys will turn to look." There is a pause then the shade laughs as if hearing something you cannot and enters the room. "Hush now. You are pretty and kissed by Moonlight and any boy would be lucky to have you matched as partners, but that is years from now and you don't need to stress yourself over it." Another pause. "Yes, yes, I know." Then the shades fade and with them the voices. You notice Neil staring back at you. "Crow? Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost." An apt statement.

Rolling for you Willpower. Willpower: 1d20 + 8 = 24

You know you are near a faultline and that could have caused the collapse all those years ago. Obviously there's been some damage and so you need to keep a light step in some areas but you aren't particularly sure where some of them would be where you're at, or even when you are near them, as evidenced by you stepping the wrong way and crashing down. You'd know some of the delicate spots if you saw them though, crumbling floors or ceilings held precariously up by a single leaning pillar, that sort of obvious tells. Just really, don't hit anything too hard. (OOC: No bonus TN to steering clear from places prone to collapsing. But you do know to look for clues in the text!)

Here is the OOC for this. Hero Points Arcana - 3 Masque - 1 Ouroboros - 3 Veronica - 3 Conditions Arcana - Fine Masque - Fine Ouroboros - Fine Veronica - Fine State of the Sphere. CPU - Kinda intact Forcefield - Intact, Breaking, ? Pinions - Kinda intact, ? Electronic Defense Systems - Offline, Maze-like, Filled with Drones Pillars - Mostly Intact, ? Outer Shell a. - Breached, No ground, Blinding light Outer Shell b. - Breached, Floating islands, Electricity

Magic Club Room, Claremont Academy Bayview, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, November 5, 2018 5:45:13 PM Nicole Whitfield-Hall slammed Bellios' helm on the school table in front of her, causing it to wobble. She ignored the wobbling, instead turning to meet the eyes of everyone in the room that Claremont's Magic Club called home. It was, as club rooms go, nothing too magical. The walls were painted white and the floor was covered in wood paneling. Light fixtures did a good job of lighting the room in white fluorescent and the windows were open to let the fall air in. Couches and cushions littered one side of the room, fluffy in bright colors. A large whiteboard dominated the opposite side and it was covered from end to end in Nicole's scribbly handwriting -- notes to herself and metaphorica-logic based tandems used to navigate her type of magic. The two wooden tables were pushed to the wall, freeing up the middle for the current occupants, a bunch of monoblock chairs that matched their numbers, and one table in the middle of it all. Nicole's eyes were a little bit crazed, like those of a powered up cultist high on otherworldly drugs and gods. Too much caffeine and too little sleep frayed the edges of her features and she sniveled her nose, ruddy with the cold she had been harboring for the past few days. She was sitting in her wheelchair, in clothes that could have been a day old or three. A gray sweater and blue sweatpants completed the I-just-woke-up look, though for her it might as well have been a I-haven't-slept-for-two-days look. "Right, so, I've gathered yo--" She stoppped, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth just as she sneezed. Taking her hand away with a sniffle, she reached for a handful of tissues to wipe at her nose. There was a few seconds of awkward silence as she did so and pocketed the used tissues before she looked up again to continue her explanation. "Right, so I need your guys' help. And I really need your help so I'm glad that you came here today no matter what we think of each other." And at this she looked pointedly at Huang, before muttering under her breath. "Jerkass." Then she continued, tapping at the helm on the table. The helm gleamed a bright red and their faces were reflected on its purple-tinted visor. "See, Bellios over here has been acting up ever since a thing I did last week, if you know what I mean. Now, I've fixed most of the problems but this last one is tearing my hair out. It's honestly pissing me off and it's been doing so for two nights now. And there's no way I'm going to a faculty member after Summers' drumming after the assembly." She paused and shivered, having experienced how scary Summers could really be in a locked room. Alone. "So," she said, picking up again. "I think you've got the skills. Is why you're here. And the magic obviously, this would be so much more complicated if you aren't. Some of us are touched by magic through the sympathetic bonds you've created with your... things." She threw a thumb at Elizabeth and Veronica. "And some are dripping magic like sweat after P.E." And here she tilted her head towards Abigail. "You're what I got and if you're thinking of walking back out the door right now we can deal. You scratch my back and I scratch yours kind of deal. What do you say?" She met their eyes again, clearly expecting them to either agree or "deal" in her words.

Up on the rooftop, Nicole had a laptop open in front of her on a small portico table. She had on a pair of earphones, humming along the year's latest beat as her fingers typed snappily on the keyboard. Runes and magical formulae ran through the screen and reflected off her glasses. She'd been here like that for, oh, an hour or two since before the Fall dance had opened their doors to the student body and she didn't plan to leave the rooftop anytime soon. She wore a dark blue blouse and a flowing skirt that reached her knees, flats though she had heels on the ground beside her. Some people liked their romances, some dancing with friends. Others liked the socializing that went on and others still just the music, the food and the drinks, non-alcoholic punch of course. Sure those things were nice, but there was something about creating and working on her craft that put a smile on her face like no other thing. In any case, there were bound to be a few or so people coming up on the roof to chill or to make-out. Hopefully Bellios would dissuade anyone from the latter. She reached over and patted the looming form of her armor, standing inert beside her like a six-foot plus guardian of steel and firepower. A cable, infracted with diamond-like surfaces on the inside, ran from her laptop to just under Bellios' helm, giving her half a second of future data as she checked and updated the poly-axial links floating around the armor's central dimension, working to trim the excess to increase energy efficiency and reduce blowback on her sensors. Positively romantic.

You get to work, pairing Neil's finds with that of his notes from the present-day natives and what scant memories you have of your dreams. It turns out that most of what Neil had taken were implements used to carry out religious duties. Probably found at the altar and around it while you were out cold, your postcognition sense firing wildly far into the past. Some of the tools were carried over to the present and though some of their uses and significance have evolved, you can surmise a picture of what the religious practices were like milennia ago. While they merely practice animal sacrifice, usually a portion of their livestock, and physical mortification such as fasting or flagellation (practices, you presume, were adopted from the surrounding Christian populations) in times past the natives had partaken of human sacrifice. The Cuespac were similar to many civilizations during that time period, reasoning that with only great sacrifice would they earn great boons from the gods and nature. It was common practice to spill the blood of the sacrificed, the victim having ingested a concoction of drugs that induced hallucinations and lethargy. You hold in your hands what looks like a herbalist's set and the containers of some of the ingredients. The natives now use it to ease the pain of the ill and the dying but you realized that it had once held sacred status. As you read you have the feeling of being watched, something that you could not shake off no matter how much you concentrate on your studies. You are on your way to read about the religious structures of today's tribes when you are interrupted by Neil's alarm going off. The man wakes up groggily, hand going to his watch to shut the alarm off. "Huh. What?" His eyes roam around the cavern, turning a full arc to rest on you. "Ehh. Awake already?" *** Neil places a white sheet of paper, creases a testament to how many times it had been folded and unfolded, on the floor between the two of you. It is a map of what the temple would have looked like, drawn by a black ink pen. Words are neatly written in the margins and the spaces of the map. "Well, as you know we're in the main worshipping room right now," he helpfully summarized for you. "There're the catacombs at underground though we don't know yet how to get there. The main entrance is just nearby. Up on the second floor-- the living quarters, where the temple caretakers lived and did their day-to-day things. And above that, was the observatory. Watching and being watched by the Moon and all that. The religious function rooms seem to be spread around the whole temple but I know there used to be something like a record-keeping room, storage of relics, that sort of thing." He looked up at you then. Now would be a good time to ask any questions you have. "So Crow, where to first?"

Salvo Changed Knowledge (Art) 1 to Craft (Structural) 1 Adjusted. - TA

"You dreamed of... the past? About what happened here? I mean, lots of old stories attribute natural disasters to the wrath of the gods..." He trailed off, credulity in his tone and indeed he stared at you oddly, his head bent at an angle. "Maybe you hit your head too--" Then he caught himself, raising his hands in apology. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, and continued, "Well, okay. You are the expert here and if your gut says to keep on looking around then I'll follow your gut up and down and around, Miss Cassie." Satisfied that the olive branch was given successfully, Neil lies down on his cot and times an alarm. Then he lies down flat on his back, staring up at the ruined ceiling as he speaks. "You might think me greedy, given that I seem to want nothing more than to sell my find but this isn't my field. I just stumbled my way to it and need a new start at life as soon as I'm able." He glances at you before looking away just as quickly. "What I'm trying to say is thank you. I wouldn't have found this without your help and I don't know if more institutional partners would have just shuffled me aside." He pauses then shifts, facing away from you and the fire. "Good night, Crow." *** Whether you try lay down again on your own cot soon after or stay up for a little while, you do sleep eventually into the night, the dying crackle of the fire the only sound you hear as you shut your eyes. Absent are the chirping of insects at night, the scurry of small mammals across the undergrowth and the nooks and crannies of the ruins. There are no nocturnal owls to watch over your sleeping forms. Only the fire remains and soon not even that. It is the silence of a mass grave, looming and enveloping you in your sleep. "Trespassers..." "Despoilers..." "Murderers..." "Thieves." *** The first rays of dawn shine on your face, bright even as you close your eyes, and you waken. You remember the whispered words as you wake. Neil is still asleep, the alarm set to go off though you still have a bit off time, so for now you might as well be the only soul in the world. Your supplies lay untouched beside you. Maybe you would want to break fast or perhaps ready your tools of your trade for the day at hand. The salvaged artifacts and finds nearby on Neil's side of the campfire, long cold. Though nothing like the ring, perhaps they could tell a tale all on their own under your expert eyes, especially if using your postcognition. Neil's journal filled with the notes of the nearby native's tales lies beside him. You remember he has given you permission to read through it as you like, and you have quickly on the way but maybe another look would shed additional light now that you have experienced the temple and its ring firsthand. Around you, the ruins is as silent as ever, the landscape glaring at you through stone-carved eyes and the gaping, moss-filled alcoves still shrouded in shadows. The altar stands in the middle of it all, tall and proud in the middle of this cavern of worship, even as half of it lies on the floor broken and its surface is covered in weeds and plants. The sun does not touch it for some reason and it sits in the cool shade as if waiting.

Neil snorted at the jab, playfully dancing back before he stepped inside with a hook of his own. "But we have quite the haul here," and he patted his rucksack. "Even presenting just the samples we have, the Brazilians and the Peruvians would be jumping headfirst at the chance to approve a full excavation. And maybe the British could take a piece of the pie as well. The sooner, the better as the cliche goes." It is bait, the same as yours, helped along as he nods his head in his own approval. He has a rucksack with some loot from the altar nearby, some of them resemble the style at your ring but you doubt they hold... whatever the ring has or is. "And isn't it obvious?" He gestured at the ruins. "An earthquake happened. The temple collapsed, the ceiling and walls. The ground is full of small valleys that could have been faultlines and rubble is everywhere! It's frankly a miracle we found anything of value," he finished with a bit of an exaggeration. While the temple was in a horrible shape, you do think most of the temple is structurally sound, enough to even be considered a structure with multiple pockets of rooms and levels after hundreds of years. Alas, the light pulling fails to even budge the ring from your finger, though the skin under the ring starts to itch. Mundane but annoying since you can't even reach to scratch at the source of the irritation.

"Within the hour?" Nicole said, eyebrows raised in surprise. "And how are they getting here or are they already in the city? I don't think Dakana has an embassy yet, do they?" Nicole stopped after they passed the white double doors that separated the cafeteria from the rest of the building. They were in an empty hallway and she had forgotten to tour the princess through the cafeteria. Nicole looked up at Sara then quickly averted her eyes to stare at a wall, yellow plastered and plain. "It's not a faux pas, not really, but we already have all the food we need. Give it a day and I bet we would have restocked our stores again." "It's--" Nicole fiddled with her fingers and bit her lips, clearly uncomfortable, but she seemed to decide on something and she brought her eyes back at Sara, resolute. "Look, we need more than just food and perishables. We could get those at any factory. We need what you have and what makes you so great and powerful and so free from the problems the rest of the world has." It was a tumble, halting and awkward like a teenager unused to stirring the hearts of others but impassioned nonetheless. Her hands gripped the air as she struggled to find the words. "I brought not just to 'hang out' but to show you something more and to change your mind, and maybe I'm sorry I had to lie to you but I'm definitely not for my reasons." "Because we need whatever you have that let's you transport supplies from wherever your secret American base is to here in under an hour."

Neil nodded once then stood up, wiping his hands on the pants of his heavy-duty trousers. "Last I checked, which was while you were asleep, we've got supplies to last us the trek back to the nearest tribal village and then some." "We'll be seeing electricity within the week," he says confidently then begins to unfurl his own bedroll. He looked up to Snakebite, glanced at her ring for a moment before meeting her eyes. "You staying up a little while still? Sorry, but it's been a long day for me while you were sleeping the whole time." He smiled to show he was just teasing.

"Why can't you do both?" Salvo asked Kam, challenging him in an off-handed manner. "They aren't exclusive and two is better than one, you know." *** "Hmm," Salvo began ominously, purple visor watching Masque pull out a shepherd's crook from the folds of her costume. "Let's just say that there are students who could be hit by an eighteen-wheeler at full speed and not notice it.They need something extra hard to feel the risk when they fail here." Open-hatched thrusters began to snapped open as Salvo said this and she planted her boots on the ground, ready for takeoff. "Just, try not to get shot until we figure this out, okay?" She didn't wait for an answer, her thrusters flaring open with flame and a roar of air outtake. For a brief moment, electricity arced from her jets and frizzled into the ground and Masque could see naked strands of magic interwoven with the flame. Then the armored girl shot into the air like a rocket, smoke trailing her flight. She stopped suddenly in the air, the flame and smoke washing past her. She was high above everyone else, just a speck between the glass faces of buildings, and she slowly turned like a top. The glass reflected her armored form and the miniturized storm around her as she broadened her senses by city blocks. "Scanning for hostiles. What's your metallic sense picking up, Gauss?"

Neil watches you gulp down your water with a blank expression and when you've finished your canteen, he offers his own. "Nothing at all?" He asks, brows furrowed. "You don't remember falling or whatever happened after?" He points to a place in the sky behind him and for a moment you are not sure what he is pointing at, but you blink and what was the sky and the top of the temple becomes a cavern within the ruins. Ancient masonry still jut out at angles, jagged edges turned towards the clearing where the two of you are, but the sky and stars have become a dark and dank ceiling, vines snaking through the artwork carved into stone and rainwater dripping down to the floor. The drips echo across the chamber. It is almost claustrophobic compared to where you thought you were before. You follow Neil's hand again to what used to be a hole in the ceiling, now clogged with debris, leading to a short drop to a pool of rainwater. "The floor collapsed on you, I don't know why, and you must have fell all the way from the rooms above down here. I had to find another way down and when I did you were sprawled over the altar." And sure enough there was an altar just a few meters away. A raised pedestal, a large rectangular table inlaid with rusted iron and rotted wood, a broken circular stone, what remained of its face depicting the face of a woman, smaller images carved on the edges. Etches of moonlight, dust filtering into the beams, shone softly through small cracks in the ceiling that opened to the sky. Then he pointed at the ring you were. "An, uh, you had that with you. Never seen that before and it looks to be made in a similar style as the other sample handicrafts we found. I tried taking it off but maybe your finger's swollen because I couldn't." "In any case, we're here now for the night. I've looked around a bit while you were dozing off and I found a few things that might interest you and anyone else." He waved his hand around the place. "Aside from the map coordinates to this temple." Then he moved to a large rucksack and produced a rolled leather case, unfurled it and moves to the side to give you a better look. His face beamed in the low light. "Religious tools. Attunements and ritual fetishes. This was how they pleased their gods."

Cool. So what could Salvo see on her radar sense?

The ring begins to cool down even before you pour water over it and though it does not completely disappear, the burning on your finger becomes cooler, more manageable. A soft heat that reminds you that the ring is still on your finger. The figure stirs with your movements and turns in his seat to regard you. You see an orange-beard and a shaved head backlit by the fireplace's glow and then the memories of the past few days come rushing back to you. Neil, the man's name is Neil Scottson, and you remember how you met him at Iquitos, the largest city in the Peruvian Amazon and the gateway to the jungle lodges and tribal villages that inhabit the Northern Amazon. There you were recovering from an co-expedition into Inca ruins which yielded both the British Museum and the National Museum of Peru quite a number of choice artifacts and insights into the ancient people. Neil was there, waiting for the archaeologists with a find he had found deep inside the Amazon that he would like to enter post-haste. His story held against you and your colleagues' scrutiny, helped by pieces of old stonework that could not have been from anywhere else. But whereas your colleagues needed time for rest, preparation, and approval before they could undertake the expedition you, on the otherhand, was used to travelling light and jumping on the call of adventure no matter the time or place. What you could infer from your interrogations of Neil and your own knowledge reveals a people native to the Amazon who had discovered masonry and worshiped a mixture of animism and pre-Inca gods. The natives whom Neil had found the information from had called the temple ruins Raymilla, dedicated to the Moon, and the temple-builders, the Cuespac. Jungle creatures were said to avoid the ruins but there is little to be said as of why and such stories seemed to be steeped in truth as you had yet to see another creature within the temple walls. You remember entering the temple with Neil, exploring it, but then the memories get blurry, blank spaces within your mind. Neil tips your canteen towards you, "You should drink. You've been out for almost the whole day, wasn't sure what was happening. How are you feeling?"

And take a Knowledge (History) Roll for what you know. Staged degrees of success.

Right, I forgot. Snakebite gets an HP for me using the Curses! complication aka. the ring's cursed and she can't remove it whatever she tries to do.

You leap forward and catch the man before he can fall, grabbing him by the hand so you can pull both him and the girl away. And just in the nick of time! The stone crashes to the ground and small debris pelts off your arms, painful enough to bruise but at least you are alive. The man is shielding the little girl with his back and he looks at you, brows raised in surprise. Then without another he turns his eyes away from you and to the exit, gestures to it with his chin and begins to jog, the girl carried in his arms, as if spurred to action. The three of you exit in no time at all, three among a crowd near a hundred. Outside is a clearing, a grassy field free of trees and structures, and while the quakes do not subside, there is nothing to threaten you with its collapse. The sky is bright with the sun's rays, cloudless, almost a complete opposite of the dust and rocks of the temple you had just left. You move a safe distance away, people still streaming out after you, and the richly robed man puts down the girl, who yet clings to the sides of his robes even as he speaks to you. His eyes are dark, somber, and filled with sorrow as he watches his life turn to ruin. "Kayara... why would the gods do this? They're house in these lands..." It is the most you hear him speak today and you notice he doesn't move any closer to you. Both of you watch the temple finish its collapse in silence. Your vision blurs with tears, and you see the world turn hazy as if looking through muddied waters until you cannot even distinguish anything beyond the tears. They recede and day has turned into night and you are above the ruins of the temple, in front of a circular hole that seemed to have been hewn from the stone by design. The same dark-skinned man is beside you but he is older, grayer of hair, wearing shabbier robes. The night is full of clouds, shrouding the world in a blanket of darkness save for where you stand. A ray of moonlight falls upon the two of you and deep into the temple's ruined inside. He kneels and closes his eyes, muttering something under his breath. A prayer you assume but of what you do not know. Then he reaches for a pouch wrapped around his waist and takes out a ring. It catches the moonlight and it shines a brilliant red like blood bejeweled. The metal is dark, iron, an expensive metal and engraved with figures and icons. Humans in praise, feathered gods watching above, and whole structures melding into ruins and monsters. It is a dance of people and gods, depicting the anger that mortals had incurred in their hubris. It is an uroboros of the rise and fall. And it pulses, growing brighter. In the backdrop of its brilliance you see the sun dip into the ground, the moon rise after, you see the exchange of nigt and day continue for a thousand times a thousand cycles. A milennia passes you vision in a dizzying span of seconds and your head feels as if it were going to break from the strain. The ring all the while burns like a steaming coal pressed against your skin. You open your eyes and you are bathed in sweat. It is night, the sky expansive with stars that fill your vision from horizon to horizon, and the first thing you hear is the chirping of the jungle creatures, comforting to someone as well traveled as you. You lie in a bed cot and looking around you see the familiar sight of the ruined temple around you. The ruins of an ancient Amazonian civilization surround you, stone so covered in moss and weeds that it first seemed to be all natural. But a soft red light glows on them and you see a dark shape near you, crouching over what seems to be a fire. You hear the occasional crackle as he tends to it. He doesn't seem to have yet noticed you waking up. On the ring finger of your right hand a ring burns like a steaming coal.