Play@YSDC

The book is sitting on a pulpit and its front cover has a number of letters on it in a foreign alphabet that she can't read. It appears to be Latin, or something similar. The nearby books appear to be on astronomy, astrology and alchemy, though they are characterized in both an alphabetical and a topic system. Picking up the book, she opens the cover and sees a pattern drawn on the inner cover and another one on the internal page in black ink. Her fingers tingle as she touches the cover and her eyes continue to itch and tear as she gazes at the imagery.

Internal Cover:
Other Page:
A flick through the book reveals more images along with the revelation that some parts of the book is written in French:
A German brochure slips from the pages and falls to the floor. It appears to have been used as a bookmark. There are pictures of funerals and crying women and families dressed in black. On the back are the contact details, phone number, email address, among other things.

Leaving the book but pocketing the leaflet, Fransesca and walks, slightly sobbing, out to the helicopter.

Loss pulls at her heart as she follows the path she had been shown all the way to the helicopter. Glancing out the window, she can see that the sky is clear ... yet inside she feels like she's been crying for hours.

The sadness put aside, Fransesca starts the engine up and lets the humming wisp away the gloomy feeling. She watches the route on the plotter and checks the air space for other crafts. After that she winds the rotors down and puts the machine to a full stop. She adjusts the seat and takes a nap before the take off to the HQ.

She dreams of a city of blackened, broken glass windows and tortured steel beneath a darkened sky, within which is cradled a black sun. Several twisted towers shoot up from the skyline, taller than the skyscrapers of alien architecture that jut out all around. Through a crater that looks like a sewer drain her mind swims and she tastes the filth as she goes down ever further to a place where broken glass lines a desert and as she treads across it, it laughs as she cuts her feet, the glass suckling upon the blood. In this dream, though, she feels no pain. Wisps of fire blow in the dry, hot air, and dark shapes swirl in the gray sky as if in search of her.

Beyond this is violence and upheaval. Artillery fires over an area filled with trenches and barbed wire. Strange, deformed gas-canisters that seem organic shriek down from the sky and down the uniformed cadavers in mucus. Automatic guns take out all those who stand taller than the trenches. Barbed wire cuts those who attempt to wriggle on their bellies.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the obscure dream ends as Romaschkova boards the helicopter.

OOC: Picture of the dream to come.

Fransesca reaches for a can of coke and jolts her drowsy mind. "Yup, we´re ready to go! Was there any good information from the professor?" Feeling the caffeine work she checks the plotter again. "Where´s our other passenger?"

"She was just behind me a moment ago," says Romaschkova, looking out across the rooftop. "Oh, there she is. And yes, it was quite a pleasant chat. We'll still be early for the meeting if we go now, however, it'll have to do. We can always stop at a cafe near Ophidian."

Remembering the feeling of what must come close to religiosity, Fransesca ponders that a cup of java would get her head straight. The substitute coke was sufficient for now, but some real coffee would do the trick. "The Café, it is. Get in ladies!"

To Romaschkova she says, "What was all that with bugs and butterflies and what not? They were from the peaks of Kamchatka, right? What´s the fuss with these critters?" She lets the rotors drench the boarding of the fund raiser, nodding to her as she gets on board.

"They weren't insects," says Romaschkova. "At least one species of them wasn't. It was fungal imitating insect life - a completely different phylum. Scientific impossibilities, you might say."

In her mind Fransesca remembers the pictures of evolution and how life began from the book she just browsed. Mixed with science fiction and Darwinian texts she realizes; if the fungii could mimic insect life - could it perhaps mimic humans too? The thought races through her mind as she looks at Romaschkova in another light... No, I´m just being paranoid... The professor had been in contact with that life form - and he certainly had seemed like a creep! Nah, better to shrug this feeling of unease and get to that café!


"So, are we ready to go? All clear!" she says as the system gives her an all clear signal.

(Am I posting too infrequently to make this work or is it good enough? I like the feel of the game, though I have no idea where to go now - except that we´ll eventually end up at the mountain... )

"Yes, fairly much," says Mikhalkova as she gets into her seat and belts up. "Let's go just park on Ophidian and then head out for afternoon tea or attend the meeting, depending on how long it takes to get there."

Fransesca gets the bird airborne and transports the ladies to the Ophidian. She reports the new destination to the air traffic control and the estimated ETA.

"So what are your thoughts on this expedition?" asks Mikhalkova curiously. "Are you eager to go or wishing you'd never signed up?"

"I´m eager to to my best ability get the exploratory team to their destination. I´ve never complained - if I´m paid on time... If there´s any problem when we get there due to the storm, I´m capable of solving a rescue situation or evac-run. I have had a ton of exercise in Antarctica. So when are we being briefed on the mission objectives?" Fransesca dips the bird and looks at Mikhalkova.

Mikhalkova smiles. "Well, unfortunately, there will be no opportunity for you to fly us into the mountain. No plane, helicopter, or hot air balloon has made it through and even satellites are at a loss due to the heavy, constant cloud cover. You'll be flying smaller helicopter machines, basically miniature replicas, the same in every way except they are remote-controlled, check the readings, and see if you can figure out the whys and wherefores. After all, we don't want to have to keep walking up there. You will get a chance to fly the helicopter over the Peninsula, just not on that leg of the journey."

"That´s fine by me... Now let´s have that Macchiato and meet with the Ophidian contact!" She levels the chopper and tries to find a good spot to land on near the Ophidian HQ.

The Ophidian HQ is the only appropriate place to land. Still, they could always leave the building and return for the interview.

"You won't need to be present for the interview," says Romaschkova. "After a coffee, why don't you go down to the Pergammon Museum and see the Liltian Tablet exhibit? There's no need to wait an hour for us, we won't need to fly anywhere else tonight. Return here by five and we can go to the expedition meeting."

She puts the chopper down on the roof of the Ophidian and secures it with a watchdog software. "I´ll do just that..." Fransesca responds and heads down for a cup and then to look up the Tablet exhibition. "I´ll be back in 60 ticks!"

They go down to a nearby cafe and indulge in some sweet, sweet caffeine. Mikhalkova regales the two with tales of her twin labrador pups and how they react to her daughter, Ivanna. "I swear, they think she's the devil. They cower and creep away ... or run if she's walking. Every time. All because Ivanna likes to make a lot of noises with pots and pans! The last time..."

Then they call a taxi for Morletti.

"Enjoy your free time," says Romaschkova. "I shall meet you back here at 4:30. I do suggest you go view the Liltian Tablets."

Fransesca visits the exhibition hall and checks it out. She makes sure to be on site at the agreed time, 4:30.