Summary: The group heads up into the alps. |
Location: The Alps. |
Date: 4.14.2014 |
Emitter: Kilroy |
Players: Lunair Weir, Kilroy Capital Conneticut |
NPCs: Zaraquoy Cordiroy |
Groups: |
Tone: Social |
Rating: Public |
After loading up on way too much equipment, Kilroy managed to hire four porters who happened to be close friends of Zaraqouy. He also managed to reduce what was in his pack to manageable minimum, while at the same time working to ensure Lunair's pack allows her sufficient mobility should she need it.
The air flight to the Alps is easy, but from there things are...more gray. They contact on of Zaraquoy's contacts, a man by the name of Smirch who sits in his own office in a shack way up in the middle of nowhere. Solar power and a satellite dish show a surprisingly sophisticated readout. "The comb?" Smirch rubs his chin, "Yeah, I've known a few folks to go looking for it around here. This is an area popular with villains and their henchman often engaged in 'side business' if you get my drift so it's moved from location to location, but I do believe I might have a guess as to its last location..."
He takes out a large map with intricate markings on it and points to a mountain twenty miles in the middle of nowhere to the north east, "This guy...no one knew his name, but he stole a lot of stuff in the time that the comb was last seen. Most of the other leads haven't panned out, and while aerial sightings showed his lair somewhere in the area, no one has ever found it."
Lunair's a bit boggled at how much equipment there is. But she will do her best to carry some of it. She just has to remember that pride goeth before a fall and she doesn't really need to show off for Kilroy. She'll do her best to help out where she can. for her part, she listens when dealing with people. Kilroy is blessed with the social skills in the pair. She hms softly. A glance to Kilroy. "Hopefully that doesn't mean..." Active cells of who knows what out there.
Otherwise, she is quiet, looking to where he points. Her eyebrows lift. Aerial views, but no one found it? "What stopped them?" She asks quietly.
Smirch shrugs, "No one knows. One day there were explosions and lights up in the mountains, and suddenly all the crimes stopped. We're kind of curious about it, but after the years passed away, it-"
Zaraquoy grins, "It's totally irrelevant! We have an area. I'm sure we'll find it with my impressive skills." He winks at Lunair.
Kilroy is more introspective and silent for a moment. He finally says, "Gmm....We're not prepared for combat." Obviously two of them are, but the civilians don't know that. "We see any trouble, even a hint, we come back and get some ...I dunno, heroes out here."
Zaraquoy frowns but doesn't say anything.
Smirch nods with a bit of respect, "If I had to guess? I never looked in a series of caves right here, but it'd be a likely spot for a 'lair' if I was gonna make one."
Lunair listens, nodding. "I see." She is quiet a moment, then her eyes widen at Zaraquoy's grin and wink. She smiles politely. "Well, that's good." She'll... quietly go with that. She looks to Kilroy. She'd probably rather not have more people knowing her powers and talents, anyway. "Sounds fair enough." Also, having civilians in a fire fight tends to end all kinds of badly.
She peers to where Smirch might make his lair and hms softly. "That would make sense as to why crime in the area stopped, in a way."
Zaraquoy waves a hand dismissively, "We'll be able to handle anything that comes along." He grins. "Why do you think we brought along the dynamite?" He grins at Lunair's reaction, winks at Kilroy in a slightly different fashion and heads out.
Kilroy really wonders at the wisdom of hiring the man, and shakes his head as he heads out as well.
Outside, everyone is packing up their gear while Kilroy does the same. A pair of skis and goggles don his face and he looks at Lunair, "Are you OK skiing? We can use the snow shoes if you aren't comfortable with that."
The great irony here is that Lunair is probably twice as murderous as Zaraquoy at minimum. But she'll play the part of helpless girlfriend. She wonders though, too. Dynamite? She's fierce, not suicidal. She smiles at his grin. "Of course." And she looks to Kilroy.
Lunair certainly has her concerns. She will pack up with the others, and help as she can. She'll get her goggles and she looks to Kilroy. A pause. "I will give it a shot. I've only skiied a little," She admits. But she is willing to try. "I'd feel bad if we had to slow on my account. I can switch to snow shoes if it doesn't work out," She promises.
Kilroy is fairly skillful at skiing, given his father's lifestyle before he found out who and what he was. He nods to Lunair and says,"Skis are faster but we'll take care. You go ahead after Zaraquoy." He says softer, "Probably better to put our heavy gun up front if something does happen anyway. Maybe pull Zaraquoy off a cliff..." he smirks.
Oh, Kilroy. Lunair nods. "Sure thing." She will do as he suggests. Then, in a softer voice, she stifles a giggle. "Sure thing." She quirks a half grin. His smirk is so adorable. She can't help it. And somehow, the mental image is making it worse. Triumphant Kilroy with Zaraquoy flying off into the horizon! Oh my. Well. Kilroy is still #1 to Lunair, at least. She's truly a team player. Mostly.
The group begins to ski through the mountains. At first, it isn't too difficult, because they can follow a militia trail beneath the snow. In the middle of the day, the sun heats up making the snow slush which is cold and annoying but Zaraquoy pushes the group forward until the group is forced to put on snow shoes to climb up a fairly steep hill. Progress is slow but steady.
Lunair goes along with the skiing business. She is cold. And a little annoyed. At least they eventually switch to snow shoes. She holds her position in the middle where Kilroy asks (and in, coincidentally, emergency Zaraquoy launching position).
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