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Who: Mosley (
complices), England (
unionjackoff) and some surprise guests.
When: OOC: 1/6, IC: 5/3 at 10 PM
Where: The research tower, where nothing ever bad happens ever.
What: England's been hired by CERES as a Test Subject. They've finally come to collect.
Rating/Warning: Heavy gore and death. This log is the product of player and mod contact. Please feel free to contact the mods at any time if you would like to interact with the NPCs. We're always open!
[ At night, the research tower is a beaming beacon of light in the middle of a rather dark district. The surrounding buildings power down and with the medical facility and the police department being just a bit too far away, it leaves the tower as one of the only open buildings during the evening within a wide span of city blocks. To some, this is a reassuring sight. To others, it is not.
As scheduled with England, Mosley will be one of the lone figures in the lobby of the research tower this evening with most of the staff having gone home hours before. Instead of standing and waiting by the elevators as is typical of him, he is sitting on top of the reception desk, legs crossed and swinging underneath him as he waits. The only sound in the lobby is the slight buzzing of the lights overhead and the steady thump of his feet hitting the back of the desk. He seems to be busy with his CereVice.
The other figure in that lobby tonight is a reception-bot, sitting behind Mosley at the desk and staring straight at the door. Once in a while, it glances towards Mosley but otherwise keeps staring at the door. They both seem to be waiting for something. ]
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When: OOC: 1/6, IC: 5/3 at 10 PM
Where: The research tower, where nothing ever bad happens ever.
What: England's been hired by CERES as a Test Subject. They've finally come to collect.
Rating/Warning: Heavy gore and death. This log is the product of player and mod contact. Please feel free to contact the mods at any time if you would like to interact with the NPCs. We're always open!
[ At night, the research tower is a beaming beacon of light in the middle of a rather dark district. The surrounding buildings power down and with the medical facility and the police department being just a bit too far away, it leaves the tower as one of the only open buildings during the evening within a wide span of city blocks. To some, this is a reassuring sight. To others, it is not.
As scheduled with England, Mosley will be one of the lone figures in the lobby of the research tower this evening with most of the staff having gone home hours before. Instead of standing and waiting by the elevators as is typical of him, he is sitting on top of the reception desk, legs crossed and swinging underneath him as he waits. The only sound in the lobby is the slight buzzing of the lights overhead and the steady thump of his feet hitting the back of the desk. He seems to be busy with his CereVice.
The other figure in that lobby tonight is a reception-bot, sitting behind Mosley at the desk and staring straight at the door. Once in a while, it glances towards Mosley but otherwise keeps staring at the door. They both seem to be waiting for something. ]
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I wouldn't consider life before CERES unimportant. [he braces himself again once they start going down] But if you don't want to talk about that, then what about hobbies? What do you do for fun, or to relax?
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I build model sailboats. [ He pauses for a moment, considering. ] I think I would like to build a real sailboat one day but we'll see.
[ And then a loud clanking noise again as he... laughs. ]
Statistically, I will most likely die first. Hah! Haha.
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if Mosley wanted to stop England from asking anymore questions about him, though, he's succeeded. because... how do you follow that? England's not going to argue with him, at first, because death is highly likely in Cerealia, and Mosley has already said that the beings here that weren't code couldn't be brought back to life.
...but Mosley isn't human. he's some sort of machine, an android maybe? so even if this body... passed on, couldn't they upload his hard drive or memory stick or whatever into another body?] ...Are you capable of death?
[......well, after saying it, England thinks it sounds rude. he doesn't have a problem with being rude to people he dislikes, but he is trying to get on Mosley's good side! the last thing he wants to do is offend him]
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Why wouldn't I be capable of death, Mr. England?
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Because. Back when you were going to give my group a tour of the CERES building, you suddenly became ill. You vomited up motor oil.
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Because being sick is the same thing as dying. Wonderful to know. Are you going to fault me for being fallible, Mr. England? I'm sorry to disappoint but I'm not all knowing, all seeing, and immortal. There are things that I deal with and that scare me too but you know what I do? I deal with it and I make the best out of a bad situation. Maybe the rest of you should learn to do that too.
[ Seems like he's not just talking about vomiting motor oil anymore. ]
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and suddenly England wonders if he's made a mistake. no, no. Mosley couldn't be human. but... perhaps he is not entirely machine either. England's not the brightest when it comes to technology, and being in Cerealia has opened up the possibilities of there being other creatures in the universe, like aliens, and monsters, and androids.
...if Mosley can get sick then surely he could die. right? augh! England is now more confused than ever. all the things he's seen and heard of in the past six months, one would think that he'd know better before jumping to conclusions]
My apologies. [he finally says, keeping his eyes forward. and he means it. he hadn't been questioning Mosley's character. all he'd wanted to know was what Mosley was, but now is not the right time to ask]
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This is kind of awkward, isn't it? ]
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and the thing is... England feels bad about it. he barely knows Mosley, and has only really dealt with him on a business level. to find out he's sick and dying when England thought he was a robot... well, it's sad. and England doesn't know how to fix what little of a relationship they had. he's not the type to beg for forgiveness, and even if he was, he's certain that would not work.
so he'll continue to keep his mouth shut and instead focus on what is possibly going to happen to him next]
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After a moment, he checks his watch, stills, and then speeds up the golf cart. They have to pick up the pace. ]
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and oh, they've sped up. it's just as well, probably should get this awkward ride over with]
I wonder what sorts of animals live down here. [he's mostly musing to himself aloud, seeing if Mosley will talk to him again]
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Rats. Worms. Parasites. Try not to let anything bite you, we haven't created enough vaccines yet.
[ Drive, drive, drive! ]
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So no gigantic mole aliens, huh? What a let-down. [he's back to his light tone] You know, back when I was living on earth, I would have sworn up and down that aliens didn't exist. It was quite the eye-opener, coming here, seeing them on a regular basis.
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What in the world are moles? Wait, don't answer that. I'll look it up.
[ He does look to England at the alien part, looking a tiny bit confused. ]
Why wouldn't you believe they exist?
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I just didn't. Probably because I couldn't see them. [he sounds... sheepish as he admits this] Back in my world, I was so busy taking care of myself and my people, I didn't have time to think about life on other planets. And now that I'm here...
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It's easier to believe in something once you see it with your own my eyes. My people believed the only thing you could trust were your own thoughts and your own senses. Everything else fell by the wayside. It isn't a bad way to live, Mr England.
[ They're coming to normal ground now, turning from the mineshaft to a small tunnel that is... mostly rock? Rock with weeds growing out of the cracks in the wall. Lit torches line the walls as they pass and Mosley seems satisfied. They continue driving. ]
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I certainly seemed to think it wasn't. [England looks around again, interested in the new tunnel] I was still fascinated by other worlds and the possibility of alternate timelines and universes, but I viewed those as stories. I think... If I am ever able to go back home... I'll be a much more open-minded person, because of what I've seen here.
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Well, that's if you remember it, of course.
[ Now, why in that world is that thought so funny to Mosley? ]
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Why... wouldn't I?
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You really thought CERES would let you keep those memories for free? You have to buy the rights first, Mr. England.
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[ He just shrugs. Business is business. ]
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ugh. what a mess. he rolls his eyes a bit, annoyed, but not angry. yet]
And how much are our memories of Cerealia going to cost us?
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[ Then Mosley makes a noise and the noise seems like a happy one. There's one last final turn at the end of their tunnel and Mosley takes it before they turn into -- ]
▶ CHECKPOINT FINAL.SAV
. . . CONTINUING SACRIFICE.EXE. . .
[ It's a large cave with a high ceiling and it's deep, deep underground, the walls are overrun with dead vines and the entire places smells quite earthy but seems otherwise undisturbed. England and Mosley enter the room from the front and across from them a large stone altar sits up on a stage accessible by the parallel set of stairs on each side of it. There are torches going around the room in a circle, lighting the whole place up and the altar is surrounded by candles, also already lit. On top of the altar there is a small stack of wooden bowls and some items wrapped in brown cloth waiting on the slab for them. If England looks up, he'll see a hole at the very top of the cave where they can, somehow from as far down underground as they are, see the full moon.
Mosley parks the golf cart with little fuss before stepping off of it and looking around the room. He checks his watch again, 11:46, and frowns just slightly. Then, after a moment, he takes off his suit jacket. It leaves him in just his white shirt and black tie and he sets the jacket down on the seat of his golf cart before moving to his sleeve cuffs. ]
You should get on the stage while we wait for her. Also, strip.
[ It seems like it's not just going to be them here. Mosley starts to walk over to the stage too, focused mostly on folding up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. The skin under there is even paler than the rest of him, hairless too and it looks paper thin. If England looks close enough, he'll see small veins of bright CERES blue light up under Mosley's skin in a way that is definitely not terribly human. Now, they're getting to the good part. ]
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