[closed] [mission log]

[anotheroldsoldier]

who: Bucky Barnes [616], Steve Rogers [616], Steve Rogers [MCU], Michael Scofield, Stephen Strange, Loki, Sam Wilson, and Yuri Plisetsky. Feat. Tony Stark as remote consultant.
what: Mission: Healing Spring
when: Forward-dated to the week of April 23rd-29th
where: Out in the wilds beyond the wall
warnings: Possible (definite) violence/monster attacks. Will update.

[ooc: Headers below for each 'stage' of the mission. This is going down mingle-style fast and loose. If you don't want threadjacks in a particular thread, just say so in your header, else it's all fair game. It might get chaotic, so if/when anything major happens I'll summarize up here.]

• Much bickering is to be had.


• Sam has cool wings.


• Michael puked out a window.


• Steve needs laser safety classes.


• ROCK LOBSTER- I mean, golems.


• Michael and Sam actually find the place.

Comments

AT THE HEALING SPRINGS, April 29

[anotheroldsoldier]

[prisonking]

[ While the others are still busy fighting, Michael and Sam are making themselves useful scouting ahead. Michael covers ground on foot, keeping an eye out for any signs of the spring, and Sam watches his back from above, making sure his route is clear and calling out any landmarks of interest.

He nearly slips hearing a loud crash from behind him, loud even from a distance. The clash of shield against rock, or maybe rock against rock. It's too far away to tell, and it doesn't matter. His focus needs to stay on the path in front of him. The jungle is treacherous, and just keeping his footing as he runs requires his full attention.

Michael knows his strengths. He's only a liability and a distraction on the battlefield. He doesn't waste time feeling guilty. Everyone has their job to do. His is to take back enough information and samples back to Riverview for this trip to be worth the effort. He won't let the team down.

There's a break in the foliage ahead. Michael stops running, cautious as he steps out from the coverage of the jungle and into the clearing.

What was once a temple, or mausoleum, is now a ruin. Few of the tall, stone towers are left standing. Most have been toppled, and lie covered in ivy against the cobbled ground. Most architecturally impressive is the central structure, weathered with time, but still remarkably well-preserved and uncompromised. Michael's never seen anything like it out, not in real life. The closest he's come are pictures of Ta Prohm in an anthropology textbook.

The entrance is sealed by a large stone slab. Michael knows at a glance there's no moving the obstruction, whoever had closed the shrine hadn't intended for it to be opened.

As Michael strips the sticky backing off the blocks of C4, setting them at strategic points within the archway, he's almost loath to blow it up. If Michael's calculations are correct the charge should only take out the slab, and leave the frame itself intact. Safety is his highest priority, but he can't help but put some thought into preserving the surrounding carvings. ]

Hey Sam! We clear?

[wingedman]

[Sam's circling like a bird of prey; most of his attention is on watching Michael's path, but he spares the occasional glance back for the fight. He's just as useless against the rock golems as Michael is, and knows he's better off helping him find his way to the spring, but there's a part of him that's maybe a little too eager for a fight. (It is, he suspects, the part of him that's spent too damn much time around Steve Rogers.)

Once they reach the ruins, Sam tacks lower, weaving around the remaining towers and the main building itself. The ruins are impressive, beautiful and covered in intricate carvings, and Sam wonders what sort of beings created them. There might be clues in the carvings, but there's no time to spare to study them. Maybe later he'll take some pictures and video with his phone.]

You're good! [Called back from within hearing distance. Sam unholsters his pistols and waits; if there's anything around, the sound of the explosives might scare it out into the open.]

[prisonking]

Counting! 3, 2, 1-

[ He takes cover, ducking with both arms held over his head. The explosion is deafening. Even louder than Michael anticipated. Hotter, too.

Michael steps out from behind the scorched stone wall to inspect the blast zone, squinting through the dust with his shirt held over his nose and mouth. All that remains of the stone slab is a pile of rubble, and dust.

The archway is still intact. He stands on the toes of his boots to run his fingers along the underside, feeling over the rough-hewn bricks for cracks or signs of degradation with his fingertips. He's not surprised when there aren't any. These ruins would likely outlast Riverview.

He steps back from the entrance, and the potential danger lurking within, wiping the sweat and grit away from his face with the back of his sleeve. ]

We're good. If anything kills us in there, it won't be a collapse. Whoever built this place built it to last.

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Once they actually reached the springs, he lets the resident scientist and magic expert do their things. The pool of water is deceptively peaceful, and Bucky prowls around the edges of the temple-like ruin, curiously inspecting the strange and colorful vegetation.

Bending down, he touches a finger to some large, open flower-like plants, and promptly coughs when the light touch shakes off yellow pollen that makes his eyes water.]

Touching these things is a bad idea. For future reference.

[ikols]

[ When the Avengers & Co have finished their scientific bumblings (Loki munches on a chocolate bar in the interim of their investigations, feeding some to an omnivorous plant on the sidelines of the temple) the godling steps up to the edge of the pool and stretches his fingers; he draws Gram, the Sword of Truth, from thin air and its golden glow warms the immediate surroundings. He's so glad it isn't still broken in the hands of his brother. Recalling it feels like a friendly handshake, its pressure familiar in his palm when he twirls it around.

Loki kneels down and dips it into the pool. When nothing happens (no explosion, no exorcism of covert traps that would suggest the pool is cursed or poisoned, Sigurd's blooded weapon acting all but bored as if Fafnir's blood gives no fucks) he sloshes the hero's blade back and forth. Splish, splash! He pays attention to how some weeds seem to stand taller and grow greener when flecked with water, satisfied. ]

... Cool.