| The Last Pilgrims to Knossos |
| Summary: | The Colonials chase a dream to the ancient Tauron city of Knossos. |
| Date: | 05 Dec 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | The Bull and the Sparrow; Do You Know God? |
| Players: |
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| Knossos, Tauron |
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| Given in set. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #282 |
Fade in on the planet of Tauron, or the skies a short distance above it in this case. Over an arid stretch of terrain in the heart of Mycenaedd Province. Below, the brown earth broken only by bristly bushes, stones and occasionally a scrubby olive tree. No plants that need deep, lush waters or frequent rains grow here. In the distance loom low hills, gray against the brown of the rocky earth. Home to stone quarries, the only real heavy industry nearby, in better times. But the Raptor begins its descent far short of those hills. For built not far from the foot of them is a city called Knossos. Small, more a large town then a proper city, it did not feel the full brunt of nuclear attack when the Cylons came down upon this planet so many months ago. Yet aerial recon reported signs there had been fighting here. Buildings razed by Raider fire. The remains of Centurions and perhaps even human corpses in the streets. But no signs of anything living here. The few citizens of Knossos who did not die have fled, leaving the place a tomb.
And today, a small party from the Cerberus will raid that tomb. Figuratively, and perhaps literally. The mission is straightforward enough on the face of it. Search of the remains of the city's old quarter, particularly its museum - which the flyover states is intact. And yet, not so straightforward. As it was prompted so in earnest by the cryptic rantings of the captive Model Five. By even more cryptic reports brought to Tactical of the a dream - or 'vision' shared by certain members of the crew. The one thing they had in common. Mention of a place on Tauron that could only be Knossos.
And so the Raptor flies lower and lower, toward a park in the city's old quarter designated as a landing zone. Just a short walk from that museum. And whatever might be found there.
Constin sits on the Raptor's bench, beside the door prepared to be the first one out on landing. The last minute triple check of his arms and munitions had become second nature many Raptor rides ago. Assault rifle, secured clips, Five-seveN, and grenade are eyed and touched in turn as the bird nears its landing zone, the marine's expression stern and stoic.
Yup. Somehow Sawyer finagled a place on this mission, even if that means she had to do all sorts of illicit favors or called in ones owed to her. She's strapped into a jumpseat, decked out in her war correspondent gear which is the black battle dress of the marines complete with a sidearm that she's had to qualify to carry. Despite the seriousness of the situation, and the odd odd circumstances surrounding it, the reporter still has a smirk on her features that may have something to do with the fact that she's seated right across from Constin. Her body rocks with the slight turbulence of atmosphere, but she doesn't look as near as green about flying as she used to.
Of those aboard, Devlin is the most familiar with the place they're going, but the least familiar with this sort of mission. He tugs at the collar of the unfamiliar battle-dress blacks he's wearing, and shifts in his seat, glancing down at his sidearm and checking it, and then checking again, not looking entirely comfortable wearing it, either. He shifts the helmet on his knees and scratches at his head, leaning around to try to get a peek out the front window as they approach the city.
Sharing a dream with a Cylon is perturbing enough, but strangely curious perhaps. How deep do the threads run? Sofia's loopy as ever, looking wide-eyed and dazed as usual. She seems a bit surprised that Sawyer's here, but the repaorter's smirk amuses her too. It's something to be in awe of and slightly worried about. She sits near Constin, peering over. "Just… watch out for snakes," She offers uneasily, then settles back into silence. There. No snakes. Shiver. She peers around now.
Cameron sits tensely aboard the Raptor, a light black sweater and black cargo pants worn for the occasion, since it seems that most everyone else is sporting black today. Once again he holds his medkit to his chest, the contents therein restocked since his last disasterous trip to Tauron. Though the conditions of this trip are quite different, that doesn't mean that something bad won't happen that requires his services. He just hopes that this time the person in question doesn't die beneath his hands. Ocean blue eyes quietly study the rest of the people on board. He's heard rumors about dreams and the Cylon captive known as Five, but as a civilian, even if he is a contractor, Cameron hasn't quite been fully accepted by the crew of the Cerberus, and as such what he has heard has been watered down and diluted, lacking any meaningful details. Which is probably good. If he thought they were here, checking this place out because of some dreams? Well, the doctor would likely have recommended that some people get their heads examined. And if he heard it was because some Cylon obliquely told them to? He'd point out the fact that Cylons can't be trusted and that it is more likely a trap than anything else.
Karthasi is going back to Knossos. She's been there before, of course, on pilgrimage to the temple of Poseidon and to nose around some of the smaller local cult sites in that largely insufferable way Caprican Academic Theologists are wont to do. She sits ram-rod straight, strapped into her spot in the cab of the Raptor, wearing the marine-issue gear she'd been allotted — just in case — and keeping her chin aloft, her grey-green eyes angled toward the fore of the craft while her mind wheels through the archaeology of the area.
Today, the Marine CO is just a nother face, basically. In the identical battle-dress with no visible rank markings (no greasing an officer, please!), Madilyn sits quietly. Rifle, ammunition, receiver - everything checked and ready to go upon landing. The last thing to do is put that helmet on and strap it up tight.
From his designated spot at the ECO console, Trask informs the party, "We're negative on signatures. Lack of bio, heat, electrical, magnetic, et cetera, et cetera."
"Snakes?" Devlin turns to look at Sofia, brows rising, and then pulling together in a puzzled frown, "Why snakes? I mean, there are some around, I guess, but it's not like poisonous ones are common around here or anything."
Constin turns an unseeing stare straight ahead of him. Logically, he should be seeing Sawyer, but the sergeant's expression and focus are identical to what they'd be if Sawyer's seat were occupied by a reporter, a marine, or if the bench sat vacant. Even breaths are drawn through the nose as the sergeant waits in silence.
"Quiet as a tomb, Bootstrap," the pilot jokes from the front seat. It's not a *funny* joke, but it's a joke. He starts to put the ship down. "We'll keep a wireless channel open as per usual, Major," he says to Madilyn. "Give us a yell if you run into trouble." And with that, and the solid thud that always seems to accompany landing a Raptor, they're down.
As the doors open, they would find themselves in city park. Perhaps familiar to Devlin and Karthasi, as they've been here before. Though it if is, it's the familiar seen through a twisted funhouse mirror. The grass, never a properly native plant here, is long dead. Benches, statues and old playground equipment lie in broken ruins in spots. No bodies here, though Constin would get a glimpse of something from his first-out vantage point, lying in the cobbled street that leads from the park into the city's old quarter proper.
"Just keep the engines warm in case we should need to make a quick getaway, alright?" Madilyn replies to the pilot, and checks the wireless that the she's carrying in lieu of one of the other two members of the fireteam; they are staying with the Raptor, afterall. Constin out first, then the other two Marines, then herself, rifles up, sweeping the barren LZ before the others are to be allowed out.
"Team up," are Constin's first words in a short while, as the Raptor is about to settle down. Then the hatch opens, and the marines do their business. Even with reports clear across the ECO board, the assault rifles are braced on the shoulder as Constin steps out on the wing, moving in the familiar semi-crouch of marines in unsecured territory. He doesn't look at anything without also pointing the rifle at it, whether the subject be dead grass, broken playground apparatus, or- "Team, Constin. Got a downed Centurion in the street. Moving to secure."
"They're just dangerous," Sofia replies quietly, blankly. Something about /snakes/. She looks to the others, perhaps quietly taking a headcount for her own sake. Cameron is regarded somewhat but at least the outright fear seems to be gone. Sofia lingers towards the front as she can, peering around Constin (Which is a lot to peer around depending on the angle, height of the observer and time of day). She quirks her brows at the news. She's fairly quiet otherwise.
"The serpent, along with the masculine pudenda, are the two most common symbols of apotropaic formulation," Greje informs Sofia and Devlin, though neither of them asked, in particular. Being certain in the knowledge of -something,- at least, is a comfort to the Academic, and she seems to murmur the piece of trivia almost without full knowledge that she's doing so, only to realize it a moment after and to turn her head aside with a brief clearing of her throat, seeming embarrassed to have spoken at all. When the signal is given, she begins to unfasten herself from the trap holding her there. She's slower at it than all those more accustomed to riding in these things, of course, but she's managing.
Devlin looks at Sofia for a minute, still frowning in confusion at that cryptic answer, and then, with slightly wider eyes, at Karthasi's. "Umm. Okay," he says to both women, glancing between them a little warily. He waits his turn to exit the Raptor, not so eager that he feels the need to get to the front and out quickly. When Constin mentions the Centurion, he offers to anyone who might not already be aware: "We saw a fair number of those on recon. Humans and Centurions both."
As a civilian, Sawyer's used to being some what of a liability (as much as she tries to minimize it) and thusly knows to hang back until the Marines are out and have secured the location. She holds a hand out to Cameron, indicating he should hang back as well, whether or not the man knows. As the others then file out, Sawyer still lingers back until she gets the opportunity to edge near Trask. The ride over may have been amusing for her, but now as the Raptor settles down and the hatch has opened, things are becoming a bit more real. There is a tension in her frame, a serious expression in her eyes. They may not come back afterall, people have more than once pointed out this could be a trap. So, here goes. One last shot at things, so she doesn't die without having told Kal what's in her heart of hearts. As such, the reporter leans over the ECO's shoulder as if she might kiss him were it not for his helmet. "Kal?" A beat. "Your fly is down." Which, of course being in a flightsuit would be impossible. Maybe she just needed to break the tension for herself if no one else.
Cameron listens to the conversation about him, but absorbs more than participates. As the raptor touches down, he moves, slinging his pack onto his back and adjusting it, preparing to move out. As Sofia glances at him, Cameron stares back. Despite the fact that she helped him the last time they were on Tauron, they didn't really 'talk'. It was more just requests for materials which she then supplied. But it seems that perhaps she still sees him as more mild monster than man. "The serpent," he notes, "is also a symbol of Hermes, and by heralds in general, like Iris. It's also a symbol used by Asclepius, a symbol of healing…" As Sawyer lifts a hand to hold him back, Cameron just stares. He's been on several missions now and knows to wait before moving out. But he makes no comment beyond that.
"Clear," is the word from Constin as he draws near enough to the wreck of the Centurion to inspect it. 'Inspection' consisting of a close look, and nudging of the derelict, bullet-pierced visor with one boot. Similar reports come in from the others of the fireteam who are sweeping the immediate Landing Zone.
"His what?" Sofia's eyebrows quirk. That's not quite what she had in mind. That sounds vaguely naughty even. She looks baffled. "No … The snake killed the eagle, that's all," She's trying to hint at something without giving something precious or fearful away. She shakes it off after a moment. She takes a deep breath and blinks. People and centurions? There's a pause and she looks over her shoulder. Yup, Cam and Sawyer. Check. She carefully peers around though.
"Alright, clear!" Madilyn calls to those still inside the Raptor. That's the okay for them to hustle out onto the wing and then down to the ground. Constin and the remainder of the fireteam are securing the LZ, and she's by the Raptor itself. Only when everyone reports clear does she let the rifle hang across her chest - finger still on the trigger though! - while folks pile out and get their own bearings.
"Just as long as it's not ours," Bootstrap quips back from the backseat, in to the pilot's crack that it's quiet as a tomb. At what Karthasi says, he just stares at her blankly for a moment. Yeeeeah. The Centurion, however, /that/ is something he understands. Over the TAC, he relays, "If it's off-line, we should consider snagging that for Engineering." Oh, but then Sawyer is Right There in his face. "Seems you're having problems with your vision, Averies. Shove your face in my lap and take a closer look." All zipped up. A bit more seriously, despite the facetious delivery, he adds, "Don't pull a Penny on me." The last time he off-loaded a party with Constin as point, Lieutenant Penelope Paris was KIA.
"Not just snakes in general," Devlin corrects Cameron off-handedly, "Just the ones on the caduceus. With Hermes, I mean." He glances back at Sofia again, and then heads out of the Raptor, speaking up as he steps over towards Constin, "This is Pylaus Park. Or was, I guess." He points up the street where the Centurion was found, "The museum's straight up there, with the temples."
There is, indeed, no immediate danger reported from the landing team here. Nothing but the occasional rat and spider is here living to greet them. So far. Straight on that cobbled street, where Constin found the Centurion, will lead to Tauron's oldest historical museum. The path before them into the city's old quarter is clear of danger. If not a precisely comfortable to walk.
Sawyer's hand falls on Trask's shoulder, giving a slight squeeze but not promises beyond that. Out she goes to catch up with the rest of the group before she gets called out for dawdling. Like any good field reporter, she can still rubberneck while she moves.
"Correct," Cameron replies dryly, "And the same with the rod of Asclepius. My point is simply that serpents do not necessarily represent evil." Enough said. He piles out of the Raptor with the rest of them, studying their surroundings quietly while waiting for orders. This is certainly not his mission. He's just along for the ride to make sure nobody dies. If he can. Feeling like an old hand at this, he knows to keep to the middle of the pack. Quietly he wishes that Vandenberg was on this mission. He's not quite sure why Sawyer get to carry a gun and he doesn't, but he knows that if Van were here, she'd pass him one in a pinch. He blows out a breath and murmurs a silent prary, despite the fact that he's never really been the religious type.
"The serpents on the caduceus and the Asclepian staff are simple extensions of the serpent's apotropaic function. They are not, themselves, evil, but ward off evil with some innate ability," Greje finally manages to get herself disentangled from her seat and off of the bus. "The post of herald was considered a sacred position, and a serpent was granted to him to show that no one must harm him for fear of divine retribution."
"The serpents on the caduceus and the Asclepian staff are simple extensions of the serpent's apotropaic function. They are not, themselves, evil, but ward off evil with some innate ability," Greje finally manages to get herself disentangled from her seat and off of the bus. "The post of herald was considered a sacred position, and a serpent was granted to him to show that no one must harm him for fear of divine retribution. And the serpent of Asclepius is meant to fend off… illness…" she trails off as she tries to find some familiar piece of the park to orient herself from, oddly turned about by the state of things.
As far as Sofia knows? Sawyer's Sawyer, a ubiquitous part of the Sofa-verse. Sofia hms, "I didn't say they were all bad…" Just watch out for 'em. She shrugs and follows along then, pausing. She looks to Cameron, perhaps seeing something and comments quietly, "If you keep going with us, you should see about qualifying to use a sidearm or something." She moves away a little, still not entirely sure of being near the guy but - hey. She shrugs and shuffles along through the park, though as they near the end of it, she starts to pause and search intently for something - confirmation - or something perhaps.
Rocks and gravel and everything else on that dusty path crunches underfoot as Madilyn walks with the crew towards the museum straight ahead. Eyes are kept to the horizon, sweeping, looking for any sort of…anything. One perk of the dusty landscape is that anything coming at them across the ground should have to to kick up a visible cloud. "Not exactly a welcoming place, by any measure," she says to nobody in particular. It would be hard for her to understand, first time here any all, and born of Caprican wealth.
Boots to the ground, Sawyer stays with the rest of the pack, not veering off to investigate anything on her own even if it may be Shiny (tm). As they progress into the thick of the historical town, the reporter's steps seem to get rather weighted as if she's forcing herself to continue forward by sheer will alone. At one point she glances over to Sofia and when and if eye contact is made, she mouthes the words, "Deja vu?"
Constin straightens from the semi-crouch as the all-clear goes out and the non combatants disembark. Letting the rifle hang across his chest, the marine pays only passing attention to the banter of the rest of the team as they begin the march up the road. "Huh," he grunts wordlessly to Madilyn's observation. Eyes keep moving, steadily and deliberately sweeping the landscape as they pass.
It may have escaped a direct nuking, but Knossos was not unscathed by the Cylons. If the Centurion did not make this obvious enough, it becomes clear as they leave the park and head into the city itself. This part of the place, at least, has an 'old world' look about it. Buildings mostly of gray stone - the same material carted down from the quarries in the mountains. Some were shops or ordinary homes before the bombs fell but, as you go on, it becomes clear this part of the city was maintained a religious quarter. Temples to most of the major pantheon, as well as smaller sects, are arrayed here. Or were.
More than devotion is visible as the party goes on. Whatever fighting took place was particularly fierce here. The streets are cracked and scorched from heavy Centurion boots, or scars of Raider fire. Indeed, the roofs of those temples have been devastated, laid to waste by attacks from above, only a few plaques and broken remains of statues left to signify what they once were. There are a few more Centurions scattered around here, but the remains of human bodies in the wreckage far outnumber them. Most, blessedly, too buried in broken stone and long-decayed. Whatever battle took place here, it was over and lost months ago.
The museum is in the distance. A large building of gray stone, tall columns holding up the entrance. Strangely perhaps, given the destruction visited upon the rest of the holy houses here, it looks from the outside perfectly intact.
"It used to be," Devlin speaks up to reply to Madilyn, possibly not realizing who the marine is, given her lack of rank insignia and these obscuring helmets, "These all used to be shops and businesses," he explains, gesturing at the buildings they pass as the team heads up the narrow cobbled street, "Or shrines," he goes on, pointing to one little alley, even narrower than the street, that looks to lead to a fountained courtyard, "This place would be packed in the morning in the summer, with tourists and market stalls and stuff. The whole Cylon apocalypse thing didn't really do much for it." His gaze lingers momentarily on a skeleton sticking out from a pile of rubble, but then he turns away abruptly and picks up the pace, avoiding looking at the bodies they pass. "That's the museum," he points helpfully as they near it, "It's like they didn't touch it at all. The only things missing are the banners and the people."
Turning to Sofia, trying not to let a growing frustration get the better of him of everybody telling him what to do it seems, Cameron notes, "I've been training. But I was told when I signed up to be a contractor that I would not be allowed to carry a weapon." His eyes flicker to Sawyer, the weapon in her hand, bemused before he shrugs and notes, "I blame the inconsistancy of bureaucratic red tape." As she shies away from him once more, Cameron frowns and draws into himself, feeling more an extension of the group than a member of it at the moment.
Sofia stays with the others too, almost like a herd animal. Shuffle. She pauses. Where's that little fellow? She looks around. Where are you, birdie? Sofia pauses, catching Sawyer's eyes. She blinks owlishly and nods at the mouthed words. "Yes." Just a word, almost like a hand reached across a mirror and finding another hand, not the mirror. She pauses at Cameron. "Oh. Sorry, maybe they meant inside?" She offers quietly, but Sofia doesn't draw any nearer Cameron, somewhat shyly. She takes a deep breath and looks around. These poor people. There's a long moment. She glances at the museum. Her eyebrows furrow. "Just like…" Before. She peers at any columns intently. Any perch.
Karthasi finds herself walking now sideways, now backward, eyes only vaguely focused as she seeks to overlay her mind's eye image of what the city had looked like here over the remains of what's left. The rows of shrines— she knows she's visited some of them. There was a cult of Bromius along this stretch— but which one of the bullet-riddled buildings was which?
Devlin drags fingertips along stone as they go, pausing to peer into one of the ruined temples, lingering in its doorway for a moment. He touches his chest, head bowed ever-so-briefly, lips moving in what might be a prayer, though it's not completed before he rejoins the rest of the group. He finishes it as they stop before the temple, waiting for the marines to lead the way inside.
Constin voices evenly to Devlin, "Whatever it was, it's unsecured terrain, now." The sergeant sharpens his studies as the team nears the museum. Narrow blue eyes spend several seconds seeking out the bases of the pillars, before stepping between them, and turning an eye overhead to the intact roof those pillars support.
"Alright…listen up people. Tactical's informed me that several individuals on board shared a dream regarding this city, and this temple in particular. What it involves, I have only their reports to go on," Madilyn says as she peels herself towards the front of the group, putting herself between them and the temple. "I was not one of these individuals. In the absence of any Cylon presence, Sergeant Constin and myself are here simply to provide an escort while you folks do…whatever it is Command and Tactical feel you need to do to act on this shared dream."
<FS3> Constin rolls Alertness: Failure.
Sawyer's eyes sidetrack to Cameron at the grump about firearms is raised. Hers (still in its holster, mind) is patted affectionately, before her attention goes back to the museum as they draw up on it. Maybe being decorated by the fleet for her stint on Leonis comes with perks. Like Sofia, Sawyer's gaze is darting around. "I don't know if I was expecting to actually see a sparrow, or serpent, or old man…" She mutters to herself, clearly on edge about this whole situation. There's a reason they coined the term 'curiosity killed the cat' and Sawyer must be part feline when she pipes up following Madilyn's statement. "Inside, we need to see the inside. We're looking for a physical object. It may or may not have something to do with birds or snakes; the numbers ten, twelve or thirteen; and Kobol." Because she spoke up, it's a fair assumption she's one that did experience this 'vision'. Maybe that was her ticket on the team.
Cameron stops dead at Madilyn's announcement, his brows rising up high enough to disappear beneath his the swath of hair falling over his brow. He can't help it. His mouth falls open and he exclaims mildly, "You have got to be shitting me…"
Constin turns a deadpan eye back toward Madilyn and the others as Sawyer pipes up. A flat exhale and shake of his head seem to echo Cameron's comment, before the marine turns back toward the museum. An abrupt curse follows as the sergeant stumbles and loses his feet upon passing between the pillars. Hitting one knee, Constin barks, "Frakking tripwire-"
Sofia's /sane/ mostly, but a part of her let go and ran away never to return. So she just sort of accepts orders. "He's not here," She states simply with a frown. Well, then. She'll just - hey, Sawyer WAS there. "I'm glad you tried," She nods, remembering Sawyer's grab at the snake. For now, she peers around for the birds or snakes or an old man. Old men have strange and terrible powers, alongside chasing youths off their lawn. "This path," She follows quietly. "Something about 13 being important. A new place. It's hard to remember," She dmits. Then a nod at Sawyer. She's glad someone has a better memory, hers fraught with fog and strange, dreamlike wanderings. Weirdo. But still, she's not too crazy - as she hasn't strapped a dead swan dress and started recording music, for example. "Sarge!" Sofia moves a little that way, forgetting something. Wait. Trip. Wire. Well, he did trip.
There is, indeed, a wire strung between a pair of pillars near the entrance to the museum proper. Low to the ground and concealed relatively well in the shadows. Well enough that Constin stumbled over it. When it's tripped…nothing happens immediately. Not that those heading into the museum can see, at least. The place remains quiet as a tomb.
Devlin doesn't seem totally shocked to hear about the dream, but he does look around the group a little bit curiously when it's mentioned. Brows rise faintly as Sawyer speaks up and he edges closer to the reporter, nodding as she talks about going inside. "If you're looking for something to do with Kobol at all, inside's your best bet," he says, "I mean… people argue about whether some of the stuff in there is real or not, but there're definitely things they think might've come from Kobol. Or the museum says so, anyway. And they look crazy old." He shrugs a little, and then blinks as Constin trips over a wire, commenting, "Well, that's new."
"Will you know the object when you -" Madilyn starts, before whipping around to look at Constin tripping up the stairs. Her first reaction is to grab her helmet and get the frak down, but if there were an explosion, mine, or anything to be had, they probably would've been too damn close to find any safety from it at all anyway.
It doesn't take long for Cameron to follow through the rumors he's heard, about dreams, about Five, and he even heard a bunch of what she had to say before she'd been silenced. "This is a frakkin' trap. If Cylons can beam their brains back 'home', I think there's nothing to say that they can't influence peoples minds and dreams. Especially dreams. In a dream state is when the mind is at it's most open and vulnerable, it's… and then Constin trips and calls out 'tripwire', causing Cameron to physically seize up for a moment, expecting the worst. And when it doesn't come, that's when the doctor starts to really worry. "Oh. Frak. I got a bad feeling about this…"
While the tripping of the wire does not do anything those in the museum would see, it seems to get the attention of the pilot and ECO back in the Raptor. It's the pilot's voice that comes over the wireless. «Major? Team? Status? We just got a weird surge on our passive DRADIS. Electrical. Near your position but…faint. Like it's muffled or something.»
Constin had caught his fall on one knee and one hand, automatically getting his feet back underneath him, and returning to combat-tensed. No explosion. Once that registers, the sergeant will re-check the base of the pillar, looking for.. whatever might set off an electrical surge. Jaw tight, expression scowling, he doesn't even look down the steps toward the others as he does so.
Sawyer is not, in fact, shitting Cameron or so her expression implies. She's dead serious. When Constin literally trips over a trip wire it should have some poetic-ness to it, but like the others, Sawyer flinches expecting the worst and…nothing happens. Visibly, at least. When the comms crackle to life, she instinctually responds. "Scoop is five by five," over the line, reporting in as she inches forward.
Devlin just waits and watches tensely as that call comes in from the Raptor and the marines investigate and report back. He looks around for wires or the sound of machinery or anything like that, but doesn't seem to see anything out of the ordinary.
Some deer freeze in the headlights. Some deer flinch. And some go 'oh screw it, GO FOR THE GOLD 10 points if you get the medic!' and run for the lights. If she's gonna blow up, Sofia'd at least like to be close to her friends or at least close so it's over /fast/. She pauses, though, seeing Constin caught his fall and hesitates. "You okay?" She asks quietly. The news about electricity makes her pause. "Maybe it came from inside and that's why it's muffled?" Is her only theory. "Dreams are really strange. They're when your mind throws off things like sense and rules and laws." And it goes buck wild, walking into realms above or below. Or whatever. Who knows? Sofia just takes a deep breath.
"Got some kinda electical mechanism built into the backside of the pillars," Constin states in a clipped tone, before looking down the steps to prompt, "Wolfe. Have a look." Rising from his one-knee down crouch beside the pillar, both hands resting on the grips of the assault rifle.
What's this? Tripwires? Electrical signals? Greje turns herself back around to find herself almost face-to-face with the back of the group, looking up at the temple ediface with eyes wide and then narrow. "Some manner of alarm?" is her only guess, mutedly offered to the air and perhaps audible a whole two and a half feet away from her.
Sofia spends 1 luck points on WIRES. Oooo, wires..
<FS3> Sofia rolls Repair: Bad Failure.
Grabbing for the wireless radio on her shoulder, Madilyn gives it a little squeeze. "Copy Raptor, Bravo Actual. Trip wire out here, Sergeant Constin managed to find it. Strung up between two of the pillars of the museum here. If it was an electrical pulse…hold Raptor. Devices on the back of the pillars here. Wolfe's checking it out, over." She stands there at the base of the steps keeping contact with the Raptor while those with more experience check things over.
It seems that everyone here has gone mad, with the possible exception of Constin. Gods. Never in a million years would Cameron have thought that he and the massive Marine would have something in common, let alone be of the same mind on something. Definitely the end of the world as we know it. But he knows nothing of electronics or temples or ancient artifacts or crazy people who think that when they dream it's the Gods lips to their ears. So the doctor simply folds his arms over his chest and waits for the inevitable to happen, be it the good, the bad, or the ugly. Personally, though, he's betting more on the last two options.
Electrical! Sofia's all over that. Or … at least, trying to. Sofia nods at Constin. She steps over towards the panel, and carefully pops it open with her tools, mindful not to break anything or send something flying. "Okay… let's see." Stare. "This might've tied into the museum's security system back when. It looks like there was an electrical surge inside when Sarge tripped it but I'm not sure what it might've *activated*," She's staring down the wires. "I'm hoping it's not self destruct or like, I dunno. I can't find - Shards, stupid brain. Why do you fail me now?" Seriously, brain. Sofia fed you a degree and all those bookies and this is how you thank her. Sheesh. She looks flustered a moment. Huff. "Well. It triggered an electrical surge inside… so … maybe …"
"An alarm?" Devlin repeats Karthasi's idea thoughtfully, nodding a little and then asking, though it's clear he's not sure who he ought to direct it to, and he finally chooses to just speak into the comms, "Can the ECO tell whether there's a signal, or just, like… something electrically-powered?"
Long distance to Trask: Hydra did have occasion to use your ECM skillz while you were away. You'd have gotten a sudden blip of electrical activity near the team's position. Faint, but there was nothing before, so definitely noticeable. Like a switch just flipped 'on'. It's very faint and muffled. Similar to something shielded, though that's not quite right, either. More like natural buffering, as if it was coming from underground or something
<FS3> Trask rolls Electrical Engineering: Success.
If the museum's building itself is intact, what they can glimpse of the interior galleries from the entryway is definitely *not* in great shape. The place looks like it was ransacked. In the shadows one can overturned display pillars, the broken remains of vases, pottery and other glass antiquities, paintings and tapestries ripped and torn from the walls. No signs of bodies, however, either human or metallic.
Sawyer slips up the stairs to linger near Constin and Sofia, trying to get a good look at the device herself. It's not as if she can do or know anything about the trip wire, but damned if she isn't going to get some visual record of it. Where marines might keep extra ammunition in their tactical vest, Sawyer instead slips out a little digital camera and clicks off some fast pictures. Turning, she does the same of the entryway into the museum.
Devlin moves a little closer to the entrance as Sawyer approaches, not precisely following the reporter — he still hangs back warily until the marines have sorted out whether there's a bomb or not — but moving so that he too can peek in through the entrance. What he sees draws him a few steps closer, and then a hand lifts to rub over one side of his face as he shakes his head. "Gods," he mutters,
Devlin moves a little closer to the entrance as Sawyer approaches, not precisely following the reporter — he still hangs back warily until the marines have sorted out whether there's a bomb or not — but moving so that he too can peek in through the entrance. What he sees draws him a few steps closer, and then a hand lifts to rub over one side of his face as he shakes his head. "Gods," he mutters, "What a frakking waste."
«Bravo Actual, we copy.» This time, it's Trask that comes over the comms. Perhaps the pilot replied last time because the ECO was busy trying to better isolate and identify the signal. «Whatever it is, it's popped up suddenly — and it looks like you're currently right above it.» Which is a polite suggestion to Move It. «Whatever it is, it's very faint. I'm picking up a bit of resistance, so maybe it's comin' from underground, or some manner of vault. The output, though, is consistent with that of a small generator. Over.»
Sofia doesn't protest Sawyer taking pictures and even lowers her head a little bit for the reporter. Last thing she suspects Sawyer wants are snapshots of the back of Sofia's head. "That would make sense… but why would you rig a generator to a trip wire," Sofia wonders softly, grateful for the addition.
"Any luck on figuring out just what this thing-" Madilyn says as she comes up behind Sofia and Constin there on the steps. That's when the radio crackles and Trask's reply comes through. "Copy, El-Tee. If we're standing on it…thing must be underground. Makes me wonder if that's where we're headed to find what we're looking for. Over." That all said into the radio, then to Constin, Sofia and the others, "Looks like whatever this wire tripped, it's underground, and may be a gennie of some kind. We're either all in, or we're all out. You folks with the dreams…we've got to go in to find this thing, huh?"
Karthasi is just about off in her own little world again, waiting on the Marine types to sort out what's going on when something about the last transmission manages to cut through the fog of her own contemplations. "Right above it? -Above it?-" she asks, wheat blonde eyebrows reaching up her forehead. She doesn't sound frightened, however. If anything, there's a shiverish twinge of excitement in her voice.
Constin nods once, curtly to Madilyn's summary, "Yeah," he grunts to the 'all in or all out' comment. Stepping toward the door, he checks the open doorframe for more surprises, before sinking a few inches into a ready crouch and entering the now slightly more powered-up museum.
"Maybe we were just turning on the porch lights." Sawyer tries to make some wry little quip about their situation, giving her the strength to continue forward. "The consensus is whatever is in there, we /have/ to find it. I'm thinking the faster the better." Consensus, of course, being used lightly as it suits Sawyer's purposes. "I'm going in."
Devlin listens curiously to Trask's reply, nodding a little and then turning back to Madilyn and Constin. "The museum's probably got a basement," he says, "I mean, to store extra artifacts and stuff, right?" After a pause, he goes on, "And, umm. Well, I've heard people saying they have rooms down there that some of the…religious groups use, sometimes. I dunno if it's true, but people used to say so."
«Not necessarily, Major» Trask replies. «Could be a vault, or some catacomb. Or it could be something below the museum's foundation. Can't really say. Might wanna check the information desk for maps. Over.» That may or may not be a joke.
Since everyone else seems to be stepping up, Cameron follows. Not because he believes or because he thinks it's a good idea, but because it's his job, as much as it is the Marine's, to make sure they all get out of here intact and in one piece. His eyes meet Constin's for a moment, mirroring the feeling that everyone around them has gone insane and they are the last two rational people on this planet. But they both have a duty that doesn't allow them to let the others die for their folly.
Karthasi is quite suddenly on the move, walking qith quiet but deliberate steps until she's joining Sawyer on her way into the place. "There's no basement storage on record in the museum. The storage wing is out on the east side of the building," she informs anyone who cares to listen on her way. "But nonetheless there were rumours that one or more of the Taurian heretical cults may have had their shrines below this building." And someone's just about champing at the bit to get in the door. 'Cause wow, yay, heresies. Not like the Priestling is champing at the bit or anything. Not at -all.-
"Information desk…heh. Why didn't I think of that." Given the state of the temple's interior, Madilyn engages the light on her rifle. "You know where we're going then?" she asks of Karthasi. "Because if you do, you're going to be our guide. And you're going to be keeping an eye out for whatever the frak it is that we're looking for." The last part is said with a nod of her head towards Sawyer.
Sawyer shoots a sly sidelong smile to Karthasi as she bellies up next to the reporter. "Heretical as in…monotheistic perhaps? We're definitely in the right place." There's a helmeted nod to Madilyn, "I just hope we'll know it on sight." To Sofia, she gives a little hitch of her chin in a 'let's go' gesture. Two sets of eyes from the same crazy vision is better than one.
Sofia nods at Sawyer. She gently puts the panel back and looks to Constin, making sure he's okay and there. She follows him then, though there's a pause at the mention of heretical. "Well, then," She takes a deep breath. She nods at Sawyer, sticking near the Sarge, feeling a bit uneasy about herself and her recollection. There's even a glance to Cameron. Then away. Time to investigate!
"Yeah," Devlin nods slowly, casting a sidelong glance at Karthasi as she talks about the cults, "Like I said, religious groups." He looks back to Sawyer, and shrugs a little, replying, "There are lots of different sorts here. And the info desk," he begins to point, explaining, "It's like, right inside. We can go in now, right?" he checks, side-stepping towards the entrance.
"Some of them were," Greje tells Sawyer, not slowing down a lick. "There were a good number of very secretive Knossian cults. I tried my best to track a few of them down while I was collecting data for my dissertation, but— it was quite difficult. As a foreigner." To Madilyn, then, she purses her lips, giving a curt shake of her head. "Any lower levels wouldn't be on a public map. I wouldn't even know where to look for a way down," she lets the other woman know, mind starting to spin as she tries to think of any likely modes of descent.
Constin sweeps a look (and the rifle attached to that look) around the wrecked foyer before letting the weapon hang again. "What's the word, then? Room by room sweep?" the marine prompts aloud of Madilyn.
"Well, the info desk is as good a place as any. Maybe there will be maps to office spaces, sanctuary spaces, or…oh gods, what is it that the priests call their own personal spaces? We should start there, I think. Looks like this place was ransacked pretty damn well, and that what we're looking for has to be hidden. We should check the places where the general public isn't allowed under normal circumstances." Madilyn crunches across the littered floor towards the info desk, always trying to be logical.
The path to the information desk is pretty straightforward and there are those among them who, of course, know the way, so presuming you are going there you get there quickly. It's at the front of the main gallery. Though most of the antiquities have been looted or lay broken and tattered on the floor, a few of the more rooted exhibits are intact. Murals, mostly, carved into the stone of the walls so they could not just be overturned or disrupted. The most prominent, arrayed not far from the information desk, is a mural of Zeus rendered in grand scale. Arms aloft, one holding his fabled lightning bolt, the other extended with an eagle perched atop his fingertips.
The desk itself is a ransacked mess, like most of the museum. Broken computer, informational booklets on the latest exhibit (Aquarian dead sea pottery) and membership rates strewn haphazardly about. There are maps of the galleries left, though they certainly don't pinpoint secret heretical meeting spots.
"I'd also check the employee's rooms," Sofia notes quietly. Though, oooh, Aquarian poottery. Sofia looks a bit saddened by that. She bites her lower lips hard, though, the eagle picture makes her pause. "The snake bit the eagle…" Hmm. She furrows her brows. "Yeah, I'd check the break room or any employee's rooms," She nods. Sofia is admittedly, disappointed that there's no secret heretical meeting spots. Kids love those! Get a lolli from the heretic.
Devlin points out the information desk and then heads that way with the others, glancing a little bit warily at Sawyer and Karthasi again, when he's not busy looking around at all the ruined antiquities, clearly pained by the sight. He stops near the desk, eyes scanning over the bits and pieces that remain. "Some of them," he offers a little reluctantly to the reporter and the priestess, "Were said to worship Zeus," he gestures at the frieze, "The monotheists, I mean. As sort of a cover, or something."
There isn't anything that he can contribute to this insane adventures, save for more exclamations about how everyone has apparently lost their mind. So instead Cameron decides to make the best of the bad situation. He's never been to Tauron before and he's certainly never been to this museum. So he studies it, looking at the murals and the stone sculptures and even the remaining shards of pottery or glass or treasure from the past. His lips curl in a mirthless smile as he murmurs more to himself, "Some day some race will unearth this place and these artifacts, piecing them patiently back together. One has to wonder just how many archeologists have uncovered the same 'treasures' time and time again, only for them to be once more lost and destroyed and then found again and lovingly pieced back together …" Glancing up at Sofia's words, Cameron points out mildly, "Dreams are rarely literal. Things tend to be more symbolic. Better to ask yourself what the eagle and the snake and whatever else you dreamed about represents, rather than look for a direct correlation." Well, if you can't beat them with a clue stick, join them?
While others check out the info desk, and put together their next plan of attack, Madilyn seems a little…taken by the murals. Sure, there's Zeus, that one's easy. It's not that one on which she's focused, however. There's a second one, next to the god, smaller, but it's got her attention more than any lightning bolt-wielding, patricide-committing Olympian ever could. "What's this one? Someone? Anyone?" she calls out as she moves in front of the mural. Fingers trace over pine trees and a single oak tree, a faint waterfall (in the distance of this landscape), and the rest of the features. "I've seen this place before…I was there before. But also on the ship."
Sawyer pauses with the camera lifted to her face, though the button never depresses and the flash never engages. When she lowers it, it's clear she's looking at Zeus. More importantly, the eagle perched upon his hand. "The eagle. Look!" She takes a half of a step forward, examining the piece. Eyes flicker wildly, as if she's processing the image and filtering it through some sort of mental obstacle course. "There was an eagle in the dream. The bolt and the eagle both seem to be pointing…" She follows the line to another mural of a landscape, one of a forested scene with oak trees and a waterfall. "The Falls, Sofia, the Falls." If the others thought she was crazy before, she's damn near a ranting lunatic now, but she's like a bloodhound following a scent, a scent that leads her directly to Madilyn's query. "You had one too, didn't you? You had a vision. Only yours was of Gemenon. Lampridis Falls, this is Lampridis Falls, isn't it?"
Sawyer spends 1 luck points on Examining mural, ftw..
<FS3> Sawyer rolls Alertness: Failure.
<FS3> Devlin rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Cameron rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Sofia rolls Alertness: Bad Failure.
<FS3> Constin rolls Alertness: Success.
"Yeah," Sofia nods. She remembers the eagle too. "That's right, and that farmer-" She notes quietly. "The eagle fell, but the others flew away," Sofia notes. She pauses at Cameron and looks amused. "Maybe both. You still think I'm crazy," She offers a half grin. A shrug, accepting that and she takes a deep breath, "I still suspect that-" Hmmm. "Oh wow." They're right.
Devlin steps over to look at the other reliefs as Madilyn calls for assistance with the smaller one she's singled out. "Oak tress are sacred to Zeus," he offers, gesturing at the one in the middle of the scene. Other than that he doesn't seem to have much help to add, or at least he doesn't attempt to talk over Sawyer, just sort of looking between the two women curiously.
Karthasi tips her chin down in a short nod. "Yes, quite," is her reply to Devlin. "The cult of Zeus Tauros, Zeus the Bull, who carried Europa to ancient Knossos." She's not as particularly stricken by the relief, grand as it is, since depictions of Zeus are… relatively abundant in museums of this type. "There was quite a bibliography of articles debating whether or not the cult was actually monotheistic or not. I think the argument began in 1978 with Renker's article on the Oriental Transmigrations," she goes on to expound in her very best Professor voice, her attention almost entirely inward, not even seeming to notice when Devlin walks off elsewhere.
Constin says nothing as the others grow increasingly excited by several of the ancient works of art. A cursory glance is given the subject of all this excitement, before focusing- as he has, with varied success, all day, on the area around the chief attraction. As Karthasi's dissertation begins, the marine mutters to Sofia, "Wolfe, while the professor is wound up, think you can have a look at that right there?" indicating a spot near the base of the thing.
His attention is shifted to the mural he was about to walk past. Cameron glances at it first, then studies it more closely. The picture isn't familiar to him. What catches his eyes is the fact that there's something kinda odd about the relief that's been carved into the wall. Stepping closer, he runs his fingers over the surface noting mildly, "There's something a bit odd about this… I think it's a separate panel from the wall. Perhaps there is something hidden behind it?" He sounds thoroughly unexcited, but, well, the doctor has sharp eyes.
"Huh? Okay!" Sofia nnods and moves to peer at the spot pointed out to her by Constin. "Thanks," She smiles over at the big Marine, grateful. She hms softly as she considers it. "And huh?" Oh hey. The doc might've spotted something. She smiles and nods, looking toward Sawyer, but - mostly at that spot. Or is it what Cameron just pointed out?
At the same moment, Devlin is bending a little to eye one side edge of the panel curiously, and lifting fingers to trace along it where it meets the wall. "Yeah, I think this should pop out," he confirms Cameron's suspicion, and then looks down at Constin and Sofia and asks, "What's that? Do you think it will open this? I don't really see a catch or a button anywhere or anything."
Sofia nods. "I can pop open the panel, unless you're dying to. It's like the one outside it looks like," Sofia points out. She pulls one from her belt, pausing and making sur eno one else wants to.
"He asked if we had visited the falls. He didn't mean on Gemenon, he meant /here/." The reporter approaches the mural which stretches all the way to the floor. Hands touch the depiction, right where the water cascades. "Maybe this is it. Maybe this is where we need to be." Palm smooths over the stone, "It has to be here…" Incessant searching, it's as if Sawyer's looking for a way /in/. Constin's words catch her attention, and she cranes to look and see if she can see what he sees. "There! This is it." Joining the others, she pats the wall, "This is your way down." She could be far off base, driven by madness her own experience has made her succomb to, but she at least sounds convinced.
"If it don't there's always the notion of checking the elevators," Constin asides to Devlin's query. "Ground floor won't have a 'down' button, but the shaft might run down a ways." Skeptic marine is clearly not putting all the metephorical eggs into this particular basket.
Karthasi seems more interested in enumerating the grounds on which Tierce debunked Calimos' refutation of Renker at the turn of the century than in helping to trip any more wires, so, no, she's golden over here, thanks.
For a few moments, Madilyn just stares and furrows her brows at the mural. When other people scramble over and start to poke around, prodding and feeling up around the base at the floor, she scoots back to give them room. "That was months ago, though. Months ago, on Cerberus. We didn't even have a Cylon prisoner…"
Sofia grunts and *pop* another panel is opened! It's … a keypad, with numbers on it. A code pad, if one wishes. Sofia pauses. "So .. let me see here," She pauses. "We can dust for finger prints on here or is anyone really good at guessing?" She rubs the back of her head. "I could try but I dunno…" Important numbers run through her head. She looks to Sawyer. "All I can think of is 13…"
Devlin stops poking at the edges of the sculpted panel and looks back and forth between Madilyn and Sawyer curiously, taking another step back so he can see the electrical panel Sofia's working with, too. "We can dust for fingerprints?" he sounds surprised by this capability and then straightens up some more and wanders back towards Karthasi, stepping into her direct line of vision. "Sister?" he asks, "Do you know of any numbers that were special to that cult you mentioned? Of Zeus the Bull?"
Numbers. Sawyer's face blanches of color, as Sofia's eyes turn to her. There are so many numbers that are associated with this little mindfrak, it's clear she's afraid of picking the wrong one. "Tenth of ten. Seventh of seven. Twelfth of twelve. Ten-seven-twelve?" Quite unsure of herself now, she too looks to Katharsi for guidance.
Once again Cameron draws back, allowing the others their excitement and curiosity. It might be blasphemos, but he settles himself down on a stump of some ancient God, drawing off his heavy pack and setting it to one side while the others poke and prod at the wall. None of this means anything to him - not the murals and their contents or the numbers that everyone seems to be talking about now. Settling his elbow on his knee, the doctor leans forward and places his chin into the palm of his hand and watches as the rest fuss like ants over a crumb of food.
"Hm?" Greje pauses a moment to let the questions being tossed her way catch up to her consciousness, which had taken a trip to the Theo library at the University of Delphi and had quite a ways to wend back to her present location. "Numbers? Twelve of twelve," she repeats, "Except, no, the twelfth is also a singular entity in its own right, encompassing the Twelve, separate but identical, metamorphizing Twelve into One and Twelve. Thirteen," she recalls from amongst Tierce's arguments.
"We ain't got powder," Constin points out to the fingerprint comment. Otherwise keeping his peace, the marine turns another look around the museum, and waits for the dreamers to reach their decision. Idly, his eyes tick more narrow in thought.
"Oh right," Whoops. Sofia turns red and looks up to Constin. She's glad for the reminder at least. "Hm. Well, I guess worst case scenario it beeps at me. It would be really impractical to vaporize your own followers for forgetting a keycode, yeah?" Sofia considers. She looks to Cameron a moment, "I can explain what I saw later," It's a hesitant offer of diplomacy. Perhaps she clings to her belief in such offers. Then a look to Sawyer and the Sister. "Yeah…" And Devlin's efforts get a smile.
"Well, try something if you think you've something to try," Madilyn orders, as to those clustered around the keypad. "Thirteen, then. If it doesn't work, we can always try the Sergeant's elevator shafts."
"Simple works." Sawyer agrees, drawing a breath in as she waits for the number to be punched in.
Devlin watches and waits as Karthasi talks herself around, starting to say something when she decides on twelve, but not quick enough to get a word in before she changes her mind to thirteen. "Okay, thirteen," he calls over his shoulder in a suggestion to Sofia, just in case she didn't overhear. "Thanks, sister," he adds to the priestess with a quick smile. The majority of this seems to be over his head from the way he tends to sort of stare and look back and forth between people in puzzlement with frequency, but apparently he's decided to just go with the flow.
"Why, is—" Greje finally remembers to look over toward where people have clustered together. "Oh, have you found something?" Welcome to Tauron, Sister Karthasi.
"Okay," Sofia nods. She takes a deep breath and tries 13. Whatever's going on around her, Sofia pays only a bit of attention. Beep. Beep. And kind of flinches for a second.
And when the digits '1' and '3' are pressed in that order, there's a grinding of stone against stone, and the wall behind the waterfalls mural opens. It leads into darkness, though Sofia at least is equipped with a flashlight to guide their way. And in they go. A few steps would take them to an old stone staircase that does indeed go down. Down, down, down beneath the museum, under the earth of Knossos. Beneath the ancient ground of this supposedly most ancient city in Tauron. But at the very bottom of the stairs the darkness abets. There's light down there. Electric light, albeit flickering and faint now. As if whatever power source it's attached to is not functioning particularly well.
Presuming they go into the light, they will find themselves in a single room. Cold, buried in the depths of the place that it is. It looks like it was once a meeting place, large round table in the center of it, though built low so one would sit around it rather than take a chair. Unlike the rest of the museum, it's still relatively undisturbed. There's a man at the table, but he's laying slumped face down on it. Unmoving, long gray hair grown over his outstretched hands. There *is* a generator toward the back of the room. Perhaps whatever Constin tripped above automatically turned it 'on', as the gentleman at the table is unmoving and doesn't look like he was really working it.
Otherwise the room is bare, save another mural at the back, carved like a sculpture out of the wall and rendered three dimensional. It is the image of a man in a helmet with a knife in one hand, cutting the throat of a stone bull. A sacrifice. The knife is jagged and jutting, its blade crafted to look almost like Zeus' lightning bolt above. And unlike the rest of the sculpture, it is made of metal, not stone. A separate part from that whole.
"Whooaaa," Devlin softly intones as the wall swings out and the stairs lead down and the catacombs open up before them, lit and everything. He gazes around, at the table, and the man at it, and then up at the sculpture. It may be unnecessary, but he points anyway, "Get a load of that! You should get a picture of that, Sawyer," he suggests, heading across the room towards it.
Constin had sniffed the air as the stone ground open to reveal the downward stair, nodding once. "Not too stale. Should be safe," for the benefit of any among the party who might have balked at the O2 content of a sealed subterranean chamber. In other words, Cameron. The marine is silent throughout the descent, habitually shouldering the gun at the sight of the long haired motionless man/corpse/skinjob. It is the man, mnoreso than the mural which occupies the MP's attention.
Sofia, super snipe! Or at least, very helpful snipe. She boggles as the wall swings out and things go down. "I bet there's oodles of photo ops here," She considers and takes a deep breath, relieved they didn't explode. Sofia nods at Constin, glad for the announcement. She will poiint her flashlight towards things if anyone asks. "Whoa." Mural. Dude. Mural. Dude. The sacrifice scene makes her frown a bit. She rubs the back of her head, wishing her mind could grasp at more than just clouds. "I wonder why he's here. He seems so peaceful but …"
Sawyer steps into the chamber with the rest, a sort of awed expression on her features, "And lo, when he has taken the knife to the throat of the bull and cut, and in its death he points the way." Her voice is waivering, as if trying hard not to believe the very words that are pouring out of her mouth. "It's all manifesting." Click. The flash flares in the small chamber, illuminating it even further, but her finger depressed in a numb sort of gesture.
Devlin waits until Sawyer has gotten a clear shot of the relief before he leans in to look closer, running a finger tenatively along the edge. His head tilts, and he looks closer still, and then tilts it another way. "I think this…" he trails off, and reaches for the knife, carefully finding a bit that will not cut him, and giving a tug. "…will come out," he finishes, as it does just that, the metal blade sliding free from the rest of the sculpture. He holds it carefully, laid across both palms, and turns back to hold it up towards the rest of the group, "Think this might be the thing?"
Constin snorts once at Sawyer's reverence. "Or you've been directed to a prepared site by one with advance knowledge of it," the marine returns flatly. "Or did you think the cylons sparing this place was pure coincidence?" While his words are for Sawyer, the motionless form on the table holds his eye (and the rifle attached to the direction of that eye, for now) as he approaches around the table.
In the wake of the others, Cameron enters into the room, frowning at the figure lying on the table before setting down his pack. Donning a pair of gloves he approaches what is sure to be a corpse, fingers resting against the carotid artery to make sure before his gaze lifts to Constin and Madilyn, to see if they want him to examine the body or what. His head bobs in agreement with Constin, the doctor echoing the sentiment. "This is just all too … convenient."
There are no more strange surges or bolts of lightning as Devlin removes the long knife from the wall. It comes out easily enough. Perhaps surprisingly so, given how its buried in the depths of this place.
Sofia rubs the back of her head. She seems unsure of something. "In fairness, a lot of what the Cylons have done doesn't make neat sense to us," She points out. "I would like at least a way to be pointed out for us." They can't run and fight forever, right? She goes quiet though, shining light where asked.
Constin nods once to Cameron, at the doctor's mute look of inquiry. "How long dead?" he prompts, still not letting his weapon hang until the doctor's verdict is in. The physical occupies his mind immediately, rather than the metaphysicial.
Karthasi has managed to go from very nearly -actually- squealing on first descent into the place to a rather more lost, uncertainly giddy sensation. She's either having a stroke or just realizing that one of the great mysteries of Academic Theology has just been solved and there is not a single academic journal in working operation to which she could send the new findings. The cult of Zeus Tauros is a MITHRAIC cult. Holy freaking shit.
Once he's close, it's obvious that the body is dead and as such Cameron replies, "Months gone. Hard to say for sure in this environment, not knowing what it's been like all this time. But I would guess at months. Six or more?" He slowly tilts the body back upright, his hands careful lest the dessication that has set in might mak the body fragile enough to break apart. Studying the form, Cameron notes, "He's wearing a badge. Saays 'Dr. Arnelio Cassus, curater, Knossos Museum of Antiquities." Carefully tilting the body back down again, once he's perceived that there are no obvious physical wounds or causes of death the doctors notes, "It isn't possible to know what killed him until I do an autopsy. Could be anything really. Starvation. Dehyrdration. Poison. A stroke. No real way of knowing, but there aren't any obvious wounds."
Devlin doesn't seem to notice Karthasi getting mindfrakked, instead turning back to eye the sculpture again. He holds the knife carefully, but reaches into a pocket with one hand, and draws something out, standing still and looking at his palm for a long moment or two. "Southeast," he says curiously, finally heading back towards the rest of the group, "The blade was pointed southeast. The lightning bolt Zeus had upstairs would've been the same direction, and the eagle." He hesitates, glancing down at the knife he's still holding and then back up, "Sooo… we want to take this with us, I'm guessing?"
Sawyer is dumbstruck, perhaps, for she falls silent and merely takes a myriad of more pictures for reference later. "That would be my best guess." She tells Devlin quietly. "But Sergeant Constin is right. This neat little package is starting to make me terribly uncomfortable. Maybe we should be concerned with what the generator is actually…powering." Besides the light down here, of course. "We may have the key, but I'm not certain we have won the race."
Constin relaxes stance and weapon when the word that 'Dr. Cassus' is well and thoroughly dead. Reaching forward to take the corpse's ID badge when Cameron leans the cadaver back in his chair. Giving the face on the bade a cursory look, he'll tuck it away with the instruction for Cameron, "Collect a lil clip of his hair, Doctor, and then lets alla us get on our way."
Karthasi lowers herself to one knee— for some sort of prayer? No, it's just the easiest way for her to get to one of the many pockets in the trouser leg of these fatigues. Opening it up, she pulls from therein a dyed reddish-purple cloth, which she'd brought with her just in the off-chance that ritual objects might have to be toted around. Standing, "Here," is the first one she manages to say, moving to Devlin, "Wrap it in this cloth. I don't know whether or not it was a ritual item, but if it was, this will protect it from being contaminated if it is brought into sunlight or miasma."
Sofia seems a little happy for Karthasi. But she herself is quietly in awe, dealing with thoughts coming in fog, storms. She takes a deep breath. She hush softly. "Southeast," Sofia echoes gently. "Yeah, we'll see…" She nods at Sawyer. She is quiet at least, offering light where needed and keeping from being underfoot.
With a nod, Cameron does as instructed, sealing the DNA evidence in a small container before removing his gloves and resettling his pack on his back. Personally he feels like he is suffocating in all the religious fervor and the doctor is eager to leave this place before the madness that has devoured everyone else it seems infects him as well. He draws closer to Constin, giving the larger Marine and look of long suffering before muttering, "Let's get the hell outta here…"
"Umm. Okay," Devlin agrees with Karthasi easily enough, even if he doesn't seem entirely familiar with the explanation she gives. He takes the cloth and wraps the blade carefully. This also conveniently makes it easier to tuck into his pack without worrying that it might slice things up. "Alright," he says, taking another quick, searching glance around, and peering at the generator Sawyer mentioned for a moment, "Let's go?
Constin nods once to Cameron and again to Devlin, before directing his eye and words to the others. "If you lot are finished? Lets get gone, people."
"Y-yeah, I'm good," Sofia manages after a little bit, pondering something or another. She takes a deep breath. "I guess I'll get up front then," Light!