PHD #075: EVENT - Yellow Brick Road
Yellow Brick Road
Summary: Eidolon Bravo's scout section discovers a cabin in the woods.
Date: 13 MAY 2041 AE
Related Logs: Anything on Leonis
Tisiphone Daphne Cilusia Samuel 
Its a forest. Lots of trees.
Post-Holocaust Day: #75

The sky is a cloudless blue today, a slight wind tipping the tops of the trees with a gentle rustle. The sun is waning past the noonday sunlight and its heading into mid afternoon on this part of the planet. The woods are still eerily quiet.

Amazing what a difference a little birdsong — or the lack thereof — can make in a forest. Tisiphone is on scout/hunting duty again today. She's moving a little stiffly, still aching from hauling the ATVs down then up the bear-infested ravine the evening before. Every now and again she'll sneeze or sniffle quietly — a lovely parting-gift from yesterday's ceaseless drizzle.

Daphne moves through the woods low to the ground and vigilant. She makes sure to fan out as much as she can, staying at least 20 feet from anyone else. Her ponytail is a faded memory by now, her hair a frizzly mess with twigs, dirt, and a few leaves trapped inside. Her superheroine weakness, at this point, would probably be a mirror or a particularly still pond. She creeps along, peering about to get a bead on her peers, always stopping in front of trees, bushes, and particularly large rocks, and then crawl-sprinting to the next location while avoiding anything that might go -snap-.

A little vine goes a long way when it comes to that hair of Cilusia's. It's mercifully held back today since she needs to be able to, you know, see stuff since she's scouting ahead with a few pilots. Following their lead, she'll duck and move forward, a zigzagging path roughly straight when you balance the left and right motion out. Slightly damp fingers nervously grasp the rifle she has each and every time she pokes her head out from behind whatever rock or tree she's using for cover to look ahead into the brush.

Moving up from the direction of the main group towards the scouts, Samuel frowns a little bit as he moves. Bandaged up quite a bit from that run-in with the bear yesterday, he was probably supposed to have been back with the ATVs, but as he pointed out, he can still use both legs and the brain. Looking around for the scouts, now.

After moving through a bit of thick underbrush, the trees thin out for a few yards before reaching an unnatural barrier. Gravel has been lightly spread along a line that runs roughly perpendicular to the travel of the group. The trees overhead open a bit to the blue sky, the trunks nearest the gravel line baring the mark of orange flashes that follow it. The markers go as far as the eye can see in either direction, which is not far as the trail crests a ridge on either end at about a hundred yards in either direction. A candy bar wrapper, old and discarded, is wedged into the trunk of a fallen tree next to the gravel. It's a backpacking trail for those looking to escape the urban grind of Kythera for a few days.

Tisiphone's steps are steady and careful, rather than scuttling. She has the vest and shoulderplates of her battle armour on, the helmet and other heavier bits left back with her gear in the ATVs. How do Marines manage to hear anything with a helmet on? Dark arts, man. Dark. Arts. She carries her rifle lowered, in front of her, and lets it hang free as she steps out onto the hiking trail and turns a low circle around. "Hunh," is all she says, peering up and down the trail.

Daphne peers around a particularly large treetrunk, then slowly scans the trees, looking for anything glinting, or metallic, or otherwise unnatural and/or moving. Once she's sure, she creeps towards Tisiphone and then stops, seeming to agree with her assessment, "Hunh." See? Whispers she, "If they're guarding the entrances, that trail's got to be watched." She adds dourly, "Not that I think it matters at this point. If they're not already keeping an eye on us, then the human race got wiped out by the most incompetent robots ever."

"Well, I'll be damned…" Cilusia mumbles, following the other two out onto the gravel path. It crunches under foot (unavoidably), and she feels quite vulnerable, but it's been quite some time since seeing any sign of humanity. "Looks like a trail…nice and neat too. Public, by the looks of it? Bet this would take us where we want to go if we just follow it, huh?"

Samuel blinks a bit as he comes up behind the scouts, stopping right before he reaches the trail. "Interesting," he offers, a bit quietly. Looking from one side to the other of the trail. "Question is, what would be there, along it?"

"We're two days out from the edge of the forest if Stephen's maps are right," Tisiphone points out, albeit carefully. The aerial reconnaissance didn't show the ravine they all struggled through yesterday, after all. "If they're keeping an eye on us, Daphne, we would already be dead." That's said with weary exasperation. "They don't sit on their asses and wait around for us, you know? So do we follow this for a while, or not?"

Daphne nods her head sharply, though her expression should make it clear to at lest Tisiphone that she doesn't believe that at all. "Sure, sure. But stay off the trail. We'll move parallel to it, but not on it. You know, like in those war movies. Keep off the road?" She glances around, "I guess this -is- a war movie. Let's go."

"Sounds like as good a plan as any. Besides, being out on this trail after spending all that time in the woods is freaking me the frak out." Still looking around, up and down the trail, Cilusia backs off the gravel and back into the woods. "At least the bright orange trail markers are damn easy to spot, even from in the woods a ways."

"If this is a war movie I'd like a word with the director," Samuel offers a bit lightly, before he nods a little. "Keeping off the trail sounds like a good idea. Especially if there's anything *on* said trail…" Staying in the background for now.

Tisiphone suddenly ducks her head, muffling a sneeze into her cupped hands. She mutters something decidedly Not Caprican Standard as she straightens and rolls her shoulders. "Yeah. Sounds good. Would be easy to see us from overhead if we stay on the path." She wipes her nose against her sleeve — stay classy, Ensign — and crosses the trail, heading back into the forest as they start skulking parallel to the trail.

Daphne nods, pointing across the trail, "Alright. Let's split up. Half of us to one side, the other half to the other. Staggered formation… and keep your eyes on the ground. Look for anything. Tripwires, funny looking lumps like they buried something… anything. This is an obvious way in." She continues into the woods.

"Wait a second…how do which pick which direction to go in? Just because a public trail will eventually end somewhere in the city, I'd hope, doesn't mean one direction isn't a hell of a lot shorter than the other. I'd rather spend as little time as possible on this thing and just get where we're frakkin' going." Meanwhile, Cilusia is vaguely drifting off toward the near side of the trail, the one they just came from.

Samuel pauses for a few moments as he listens. "Not going too far, so we can get back to the rest of the folks in a little while would be a good idea," he offers, a bit quietly.

'Staggered formation?' Tisiphone mouths, lifting a pale brow at Daphne as she moves off ahead. It's the same blank look that greets the arcane sneakity hand-signals Daphne and some of the others use while skulking about. Charades must not be popular in her corner of Sagittaron. She's a pilot, not a ninja. Glancing across to Cilusia, then Samuel, she says, "Trail's going the same way we are, at least for now." Who knows what's over the ridge. "Might as well see where it leads for a short ways. Shouldn't wander too far."

Daphne continues off into the trail, wordless. She's back to the usual grind, moving from tree to tree and doing her best to keep an eye on the road without being visible -from- the road.

Cilusia follows the others off into the trees. Moving with the group, she goes parallel to that path, keeping it in sight, but using what brush and trees are along side for cover as best she can.

Samuel nods a little bit, moving in proper position relative to the three others, looking around carefully once in a while. Keeping silent for now.

Cresting the ridge closest, the scout team doesn't have to move far. The cabin is not but a couple dozen yards ahead once over the lip in the terrain. A large sign is passed that reads in large green letters 'Kythera Park Service - Pottinger Station' and underneath in smaller letters: 'Leonis Bureau of Land Management'. The forest floor clears out of debris around the building while a firepit sits out front. Hundreds of logs are stacked between trees, ready to offer firewood (or a defensive fighting position) to anyone who might need it. A foundation on the building seems to indicate that there might be a basement to this isolated place. The large glass windows on the front are dirty and looked like they haven't been cleaned in years, but the inside is hidden by shades drawn closed against the outside light. There's no footprints around in the dirt or other sign of human occupation, though there is a carved and cleaned deer carcass off to the side of the cabin's clearing. Stepping off to the side, the cabin seems a little bigger than first seen from the approach. There is a large fuel tank nestled against the building's side, gas cans sitting next to it. A small path leads around back from the locked front entrance.

<FS3> Daphne rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Samuel rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Tisiphone rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Cilusia rolls Alertness: Good Success.

Step. Step. Ste-CHOO! Tisiphone again hunches her head down into cupped palms to muffle a sneeze. After a quiet sniff, she pushes forward, steps slowing cautiously as they crest the hill, fingers shifting and resettling on the rifle's grip. Her steps slow to a halt as the cabin is spotted — she straightens and squints slightly, then shades her eyes with her hand. Suddenly, she looks away from the cabin and its surroundings, to where she last heard the others. "Something's moving back there," she hisses. A proper whisper wouldn't carry, after all.

"That's…handy," Cilusia states flatly upon cresting the little rise in the terrain and the trail. Her rifle is held down at her waist, and when the cabin comes into view, she stops and sort of pushes one hip out and turns her head. "What luck, huh?" When Tisiphone speaks up, Cilusia looks toward the cabin specifically, getting up onto tiptoe and stretching out as best she can (whatever good that will do). "Sounds like…animals maybe?" She looks around at the other scouting peeps to confirm/deny.

Daphne stops what she's doing when Tisiphone sneezes. She cringes, in fact. But her eyes were on the cabin to begin with. She draws her rifle and nods, "I see them." whispers she back to the others. "Sounds like an animal, yeah. I don't think cylons sound like that."

Samuel pauses as he hears the others, nodding in agreement with Tisiphone. As he hears the others, he doesn't quite relax. Animals can be dangerous too. Rifle kept ready for now. "If it's a bear… Someone else be at the front?" he offers, a bit lightly.

"If it's animals, there's something edible back there. Let's frakking hope it's not a bear." Tisiphone doesn't look particularly thrilled at the thought. The last thing they found bears eating were /other people/, after all. A glance over at Daphne, with her brow raised — a sort of 'shall we?' query — before she shoulders her rifle and starts moving, cautiously, toward the cabin's clearing.

Daphne nods slowly, "Yeah. Yeah." She nods towards the others, then motions towards the cabin. She peers down the trail, inhales, and then crosses towards Samuel and Cilusia. "Want to take the house? That might be food."

Cilusia gives her best 'what the frak?' shrug. "Sure, sure. Figure that lock should be easy enough to pick, if it even is locked. If not say hello to my godsdamned boot, huh? Hope they kept a lot of canned food." Smirking a little, she gets her rifle up and starts down the trail with the others, angling toward the cabin.
You paged Quinn with 'I really wish that Pol hadnt broken her legs. Yeah it pretty much limits your RP to near nothing.'

Samuel nods a little bit as he hears what's being said. "Sounds good," he offers, a bit quietly. Glancing around for a few moments, before he moves with the others.

Getting closer to the cabin, the smell from the gutted deer becomes apparent. As does the decay. Its probably been hanging there for a few weeks. The insides are eaten away by bugs and magots making the whole thing look terribly unsightly. There's a piece of weather-beaten paper nailed to the door, fairly unreadable until someone gets close.

Will the smell of rotting flesh forever remind Tisiphone of her misadventures on Leonis? Only time will tell. She clears her throat thickly, breath moving shallowly through her mouth instead of through her nostrils as she steps into the clearing and glances about to the others. "Whoever was here hasn't been here in a while," she theorizes, voice low, pointing her chin toward the rotten deer. Her attention — and the muzzle of her rifle — moves toward the side of the cabin.

Daphne creeps along towards the cabin proper with Tisiphone and casually clicks the safety off from her rifle. A hand reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small tin of anti-radiation pills. She pops one into her mouth and swallows it, then slips the tin back into her pocket. "Died of radiation poisoning, maybe. What's that note?" She slips towards it, trying to get close enough to read while also not inhaling the rotten scents.

Cilusia sort of…drifts along with between the two groups. Ostensibly she's going to check out the cabin, but rather than beeline for it, she hangs back from Daphne a little, looking back up the trail and out around the edges of the clearing to make sure nothing has an easy time of sneaking up on them. "There's a note? Get up there and see what it says. Maybe it tells us what time they expect to be back from the store."

Samuel nods a little as he listens to the others, stepping over towards the door now. Looking around carefully as he moves, in case there's something painful hidden underneath something.

What's the note? Tisiphone looks back at Daphne with a jostle of her shoulders. Magic 8 Ball says: frakked if she knows. She takes a couple slow steps around the side of the cabin, glancing over her shoulder one way for Samuel, then the other for Cilusia. Taking point is /not/ where she wants to be. She's an Ensign. They're not designed for leadership! Yet — there she is.

Daphne squints, "Sayyys…. says the back door is unlocked." Daphne stops, peering at the sky and making a funny face that causes her nose to slant to one side. "What the frak? Well, frak it. Let's just keep going. That's such an inane thing to leave on a note that it's either pre-war, or someone's idea of a way to kill survivors and take their stuff. All in favor of just going ahead?"

"Well, if the back door is unlocked, it doesn't make much frakkin' sense to split up and try to go half in the back half in the front. I say, let's all get rifles up and peek on around the back, then inside, if there's nothing there. Of course, who's to say why they're shepherding up around the back…" Cilusia isn't getting paid to think (much), so she shrugs, and jogs a little to catch up with the others to gang up and go around the back of the cabin.

Samuel considers for a few moments, "If there's something there, leaving it behind us as the ATVs come, without knowing what it is could be a bad idea," he offers, before he shrugs, "But it's up to you…" Looking to the two Ensigns for now. Yes, let the flygirls get their shot at leadership. "I'm not even supposed to be up here with you guys, they say. Although I'm feeling fine, all things considered."

Following the path around the back, the building extends as the short distance is covered. This side of the house seems to have been where the occupant or occupants slept. Peeking into a window that is passed by, a couple sets of bunk beds can be seen. There are still covers on them and look to have been used. A few sets of men's clothing can be seen hanging in a closet left open. But when the building ends, the sounds become less muffled. Its that of ananimal moving, for sure. At least one and they don't sound large. Not a machine.

"Don't think the Cylons would leave a, 'Get In The Van - We Have Candy' sign for us," Tisiphone mutters, in response to Daphne, before starting to creep forward. She passes the first window without thinking to look in it — at the second window, Corporal Maragos's reminders comes back to her, and she remembers to peek before crossing past it. She steps forward into the 'back yard', wary going on skittish, sweeping her rifle around as she tries to locate the source of the movement. At least it doesn't /sound/ like either a bear or a Centurion.

"No, I mean going ahead," Daphne points to the trail, "-that- way. Whatever happened here, it's not our problem and enough of us have gotten eaten by bears. Not our problem, and we're pretty close to the city, so I don't think food's going to be nearly as much of an issue as snipers on every rooftop soon enough." She nods towards TIsiphone, "I'm not thinking about Cylons at this point. I'm thinking about survivors. Sorry, but the milk of human kindness goes sour after about three days without electricity. And even if not, I'm not too fond of opening the door with an animal on the other side of it who probably knows we're here. Mission is to get to the city, not play backwoods explorer. I got enough of that in the Girl Guides."

Daphne was… never in the Girl Guides.

"But if it's survivors there, even if they're of the… sour milk variety, or rather especially if that, leaving them behind to hit us in the back would be a bad thing." Samuel offers in Daphne's direction. "And as for food, we don't know how long we need to be stuck on this miserable piece of rock." A brief grimace, and a quiet "Sorry Lizzie," before he looks back to the others.

Rounding the corner there is a small, fenced animal pen. Half a dozen goats look to have inhabited it. Four are still alive - two appear to have died. They look hungry, too, ribs evident around the sides. There's no food left in the trough and the nearby trashcan that probably held all their food is overturned to the ground - the contents long taken by other wildlife. The goats just eye the visitors for a moment before struggling to their feet and wandering to the side of the pen nearest the people. Their bleats are quiet and pathetic. Hungry. Awww. A back door leads up into the cabin and probably into the passed bunkhouse. The path continues into what looks like a clearing a few more yards into the woods and stops there.

The latest in a long string of proofs that Tisiphone Is No Marine — irritated by something Daphne says, she turns to look back at her fellow Ensign, rifle lowering as she does, instead of keeping her attention forward. "Everyone else is coming this way. Our mission is to snoop ahead of them for the day. You noticed the fuel tanks over there, yeah? And that the ATVs are nearly out? You 'don't think food's going to be an issue'? You sure are certain about a lot of things that haven't been the slightest bit true yet."

"It's a city, Tis. How much could people possibly scavange in seventysix days?" Of course she's been counting. "Fine. You guys want to open it, I'll keep my distance. I guess I'm being paranoid." Daphne raises her rifle.

"This shit's here right now. Let's just check it out, see if there's anything at all we can use, and keep on moving. No need to argue about it. We got guns…they probably got guns. There's four of us…hopefully less than four of them. And come on…it's just goats back here." Cilusia steps around to the back of the cabin, making for the door. "Anyone else for going inside?"

Samuel looks between Tisiphone and Daphne for a few moments, about to say something, when he hears Cilusia. "Checking it out, at least, sounds like a good idea," he offers, making his way towards the back and that door, as well. Giving those goats a bit of a pitiful look for a few seconds.

Goats. Aww, indeed. "We used to have goats," Tisiphone says, out of the blue, as she looks at the starving critters. "Gonna be tough as hell. Might as well wait until Stephen's here to slaughter them." The ever-changing menu for the forest gang — first it was protein bars and MREs, then rabbit and bear, and tonight, hopefully, bear and goat. Despite speaking of their imminent demise, it's a rather fond and homesick look she casts on them before reluctantly pulling her attention back to the others. She reshoulders her rifle. "If there's anyone in there, they can't come out," she figures. "They'd set the goats to graze. Let's take a look."

The bunkhouse is barely deserving of the name and can see out to the path that leads to the rear of the house via a window. There are two bunks in this small room - enough to sleep four people. The sheets on the beds look fairly clean if still used, the covers left in disarray. A closet at the rear of the room is left open. Set's of men's clothes hang inside. Park Ranger uniforms and a variety of civilian clothes are visible up front to be hanging from the rack. A door in here leads outside to the goat pen and the other, closed goes further into the cabin.

Daphne keeps her rifle hefted, but doesn't say a word, simply creeping forward, towards the house. "Ok. Uh… how do we do this? I've seen enough TV shows to know breach, bang, and clear, but we have nothing to breach with," asides she, "And the doors open anyway. I don't think we have anything to bang with, and it looks clear. Does that mean we just walk in?" She's asking Samuel. Afterall, he's the marine.

Samuel considers a bit as he hears that question, "At first at least. Doesn't look like there's anyone inside there…" he offers, moving for the door, to open it and head inside.

Cilusia stands beside the door, peeking in as best she can with what light falls in through the open door and windows. "Yeah, a little advice on how to do this wouldn't hurt." She too looks at Samuel to tell them how to go about storming the castle.

"Check the basement?" That's the extent of Tisiphone's suggestions. "It's where I'd hole up if I had to hole up." She paces back toward one of the windows, peering in through it with her rifle raised. "More bedding and stuff in here, too, so we don't have to freeze our asses off at night."

Daphne nods, rifle at the ready, and steps inside. By the look on her face, she'd rather be somewhere else.

Cilusia brings her rifle up to her shoulder and steps into the bunkhouse from outside. She points, but keeps her finger well off the trigger for the moment. "Anyone see the steps leading down?"

Looking around the room rather carefully, Samuel pauses a bit as he sees the clothes, "Anyone ever wanted one of those?" he offers a bit lightly, gesturing towards the park ranger uniforms. The questions about steps leading down makes him shake his head, as he looks towards the door leading further into the building, "Perhaps inside there?"

The room is fairly small and the floor is uncovered. The closet doesn't look to go very far back, either. Steps or a hatch of somekind aren't within anyone's view.

"Sure, let's try the door." Tisiphone stops gawking in the windows and follows everyone inside. It's a little crowded with them all grouped together — not that any of them seem particularly excited about straying too far. "Um." A restless glance to the others. "Here. I'll open it on three, you guys be ready." She'll wait for the others to move themselves as they will, then slowly count off. "One. Two. Three-" She swings the door open.

The door swings wide to…nothing. Its a hallway with wooden panelling and thin walls. There's a cheap rug in front of the door too with some ages-old dried dirt clumped on it. To the left, the ranger station opens to a larger room with the curtained windows and another door - presumably the locked front one. Going to the right, the hallway continues though it doglegs to the left. There's some sort of natural light illuminating the wall and floor at that end.

"Didn't you guys hear animals in here?" Daphne blinks a few times, creeping down the hallway. She glances behind, "I guess we go right, huh?"

"Looks like the only way to go," Cilusia says, creeping behind.

Samuel nods a bit as he moves through with the others, glancing towards that room towards the left for a few moments, then starts moving down the hallway, with the others.

Bright! And quite a find! The converted solarium/greenhouse opens up to glass overhead and around the walls. Its warm in here and smells of herbs. The tables that line the room have an automatic sprinkler system that seems to keep these plants alive and well despite the apparent absence of human habitation for the time being. Names of the various plants are taped to each table. The smell seems to match with the names, herbs and spices of all different types are available here. Some with, ahem, medicinal qualities. Others are more obscure.

Into the brightly-lit room they go. Tisiphone lowers her rifle again almost immediately, and takes a deep, deep breath of the moistened air. "The frak, man? Rangers had a stash?" She crosses toward the shelves of planters, reaching out to inspect a few of the labels. "Frak, Captain Quinn won't be feeling a /thing/ tomorrow."

"Yo, what's the penalty for uh…not reporting the entire find here? Or ah, sampling the quality before the real experts?" Cilusia just has to wonder that, no stranger to the enjoyment that more than a few 'herbs' can grant, courtesy of her upbringing on Scorpia. Tisiphone may be looking at some of the legit ones…Cilusia certainly is focusing on the less-than-legal ones. "This is one hell of a find though, godsdamned!"

Samuel is unable to hold back a bit of a smile as he sees what they've found. "Excellent…" he offers, looking towards the others. Nodding in agreement with Cilusia's words about what this is, he glances around the room once more.

"Stephen'll have our hides if we report back stoned," says Tisiphone. Very. Reluctantly. Then, slyly: "Let's check the rest of the cabin before we stuff our pockets."

Daphne raises her eyebrows. "Stoned?" She clearly has no idea what any of that stuff is. "Yeah. Let's go."

"Well, yeah…stuff pockets now, then wait until we're off this godsforsaken planet. Then we get blazed." Cilusia is smirking slyly herself, ready to move out and finish up, if only so she can cram her pockets with plants.

Samuel holds back comments for the moment, nodding a bit at that part about checking the rest of the cabin. "Maybe find a way down to the basement," he offers, with a bit of a shrug.

Onward and upward — or onward and downward, hopefully. Tisiphone takes a look at a couple more plant labels before stepping out of the solarium and moving back into the hallway. Time to search for the basement.

Samuel has disconnected.

Moving back inside, the main room is decorated with the various wall coverings that one would expect to find inside a Ranger Station. A desk is off to the right of this fairly large room with a closet door behind it. An empty box of 12 gauge buckshot is discarded in the trashcan with a variety of papers. A disassembled radio on the back counter is a messy tangle of wires with an electrical diagram lain out next to it. There is a wooden hatch in the floor near the back and a couch off near the other window. Set into the other wall is a stone fireplace. One of the windows near the hatch is open and provides a view to the other side of the cabin's grounds.

Daphne moves into the room all spidery. She creeps across the floor like she means it and, honestly, like she's done exactly this sort of thing a lot. Getting into rooms she's not supposed to be, and all that. She stops by the closet door, creeks it open, and then opens it all the way. "Alright. So I was wrong." She pulls out several rolled maps, but also goes through some obvious medical boxes, marked with a red cross. She opens it up in a hurry. Burn creams, antiseptic creams, bandgages, and gauze. "Jackpot."

Tisiphone at least has the grace to wait for Daphne to play ninja over toward the closet before she steps forward into the room. She's not stomping by any means, but her steps aren't particularly quiet, either — just slow and careful. She pauses near the dismantled radio and leans over it, peering down at the tangled wires curiously, then moves onward, sweeping restlessly about. The hatch in the floor draws the most of her attention, and she ends up standing near it. "Same as before?" she asks, as Daphne finishes checking out the medical supplies. "I'll count to three and open it?"

<FS3> Tisiphone rolls Alertness: Success.

Daphne creeps towards the hatchway and nods her head, "Yeah. Same as before." She crouches, drawing her rifle on the hatch. As an afterthought, she doublechecks the safety, making sure it is -off-. The woman brings the gun up so she can peer through the sight. "One…. two…. three."

Its an inky blackness down there. That is, until a flashlight is produced. Wooden stairs lead down at a steep angle down to a dirt floor at the bottom. There doesn't appear to be anything moving and its dead silent.

Tisiphone swings the hatch open, letting it go to hit the floor with a loud WHAM as she reshoulders her rifle, aiming it down into the darkness as the light is shone down. The latest sign, in her mind, of Nobody At All being here — she eases her grip on the rifle and says, "I'm gonna go check," as she starts picking her way down the steps.

Daphne grabs a piece of broken radio, "Wait." She puts a hand in front of Tisiphone, and then drops it down the hatch. Then she moves away and prepares to descend with her.

"I'm coming down behind you," Cilusia says. She thumps over from that desk, where she was fiddling around with that busted up, useless radio. "As soon as you get down, you go straight ahead, you go to one side, and I'll go to the back. Make sure nothing's down there."

Its a steeper climb than initially suspected, and there is barely enough room to stand. The room smells of dirt and dust - not even the smell of anything dead hinted at. The space is fairly cramped all around, too. But as the flashlight moves around the room, something becomes more obvious: The sealed glass mason jars. Dozens of them. Filled with dried food and various jams. Even some dried fruits and vegatables. And a sealed jar of peanut butter which could possibly be the last one in existence outside of the Navy's excuse for PB.

"Whoa. Jackpot times two," Tisiphone says, crossing forward to start rummaging through the mason jars. Kids in a candy store. Sagittaran in a root cellar. It follows. "Damn. This is going to make things so much easier. LOOK at all of this!" Except the peanut butter. She seems to have zero interest in it.

Daphne widens her eyes. "Wow. Tell me to shut up a little faster next time. I say we mark the house so the mechanized group knows they're supposed to clean it out. There's no way we're scouting with all this stuff." Her tone has the sound of askance, rather then 'tellance'. A statement, but a questioning one. All that's missing is 'what say ye?'.

"Well, I'll be damned. This is a frakkin' jackpot! Some herbs, and some foods to cook with them." Those munchies sure as shit hit hard afterall. "We might wind up having to tie a big red frakkin' bow on this place for the motor pool. That's probably what they'll think, afterall." And with that, last one down, Cilusia is also the first one back up.

Back upstairs, that window overlooks the bare forest floor but there's something just not right about it. The forest floor just doesn't look natural for some reason. It might take a few moments, but the human brain looks for patterns. Cylons might find it, but not the subtlety to this one. A set of fallen trees that look like they were cut down is lain in a rough arrow shape pointing into the woods. Broken branches loosely produce a line that makes them into an arrow. Just off into the treeline, following the arrow, is a tree that looks like someone sheared the bark off with a knife. Its a trail marker.. There don't seem to be anymore, though.

<FS3> Daphne rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Tisiphone rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Cilusia rolls Alertness: Bad Failure.

But sure enough, looking out there, there is a barely identifiable trail. Incredibly faint. Those maps back from the closet looked like personal collections. This off-beat trail might even be scrawled on there.

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