Lt. Commander Doz Finch - Which West Was the Real West
Doz Finch
((Tanglewoods, Gateside Dimension))
After the snarling trees had suddenly shivered into life, snapping and cracking into different positions and configurations, their branches bending, boughs contorting, twigs twisting and roots ballooning with scarlet spit, the rumble came to an end taking the vine and moss-strangled figure with it.
Rather than the entirety of the woods shifting, it had only been one area, which very much piqued her interest.
Finch: They're gone. Or they've moved. ::She looked around.:: That's interesting.
Neathler: But making things difficult for us.
A brief pause whilst the woman considered the reformed patch of woods ahead of them, and then something seemed to hit the pixie-haired woman like a nail in the wall.
Neathler: They? Did you see someone?
Hadn’t she?
Espinoza: It looked like there was a body wrapped up inside. They overlap so much, it’s hard to see exactly where they’re shiftin’. I suppose that’s probably the point.
Good, Ethan had seen them too — although maybe “good” wasn’t the right word to use, given the circumstances. They weren’t there to find any anyone, they were there to try to figure out the source and the solution to ending the relentless encroachment. Unless?
Finch: You think they’re, ::she twisted her face,:: or rather it’s trying to distract us?
No response, but that in itself was enough of a response. The vines, the woods, the Gateside dimension, whatever name you put to it. It had demonstrated its intelligence in the outpost, proving it knew how to communicate and that it had no compunction using humanoids to do so. People were part of the overall picture, and so it didn't do to rule that out as part of the encroachment either.
Though, tricks of the mind and all that.
Neathler: With our limited tricorder range, there’s no way to track where a vine starts or ends, is there?
Espinoza: Not really, and we don’t know how much they shift, and where they start or end. Or even if they all start at the same place.
Adjusting her busy belt and ensuring everything was where it ought to be, she and the others pressed on again towards the west. If the west was the west and not the east masquerading as it. As the minutes went on, she did her best to lift and move poking branches and bramble clusters out of the way, allowing the mech suit to do the harder graft first. Red soil under her boots, this and that peeling away beneath her, alive, dying, somewhere in-between, she didn't know.
Neathler: What if we focus on one vine, or one structure and follow it to the source? That would get us somewhere. Maybe mark it somehow, so when things changes again we can still spot which vine we’ve chosen?
Doz placed her hands on her hips — the double teapot pose Doctor Nera used to call it— and thought about the Chief of Security’s idea. Ethan rubbed his jawline beside her, no doubt mulling it over as well. It was a cracking thought, but would it work? The lad seemed to think so, but not without adding a bit of pepper to it first.
Espinoza: What if we stick a tricorder or comm badge in the mech ‘n see if we can’t have the vines drag it off? Have it stomp on another vine or somethin’. With any luck, it’ll perceive the suit as a threat, not us, ‘n drag it off. We might be able to follow the signal and see where it leads us.
She turned to the angular thing, all wires and actuators, and raised her bushy caterpillar brows.
Finch: What do you think, Mister Mech? Fancy the role of a lifetime?
The robotized suit tilted its head as would a mastiff, and then the ground ahead of her quite literally caved in, causing the thing to clamp one mechanical hand into what piece of ground was stable, while its other automatically wrapped around her waist pulling her back. Ethan had other ideas.
Espinoza: Jus’... jus’ stay real still. I got you. I think. Goddamn. Did you step on somethin'?
From her slightly winded position, her brown eyes searched for the lad's voice, only to see that he’d slid, or perhaps dived after Samira, into the crumbling abyss and was a fair way down, gripped onto a protruding root for dear life with one struggling hand while his other held the commander, thank god.
Neathler: Response
Finch: A bit of a redundant question this, but are you two alright!?
As the suit released her, she quickly positioned herself at the edge of the endless pit, gobsmacked by the view, stomach twisting into a knot at the depth of it. Tendrils, vines, roots, all moved together in a fascinating but intimidating structure. Latticed was the word, criss-crossing through the ground and disappearing away to other locations, leaving her two dangling there strained and stranded.
Roots in the bloody wires indeed.
Espinoza: Don’t - don’t suppose you installed a portable tractor emitter in our metal buddy, Commander? ::he calls up to Finch::
Neathler: Response
Finch: Didn’t quite have the time for that, lovey, but don’t fret! There’s other options, he’s a very versatile being. One mo!
She could hear the poor lad's breath catching in the air, and could even see his knuckles turning white from her vantage point; Samira was as healthy as a shot of ginger, though, and she was certain that if it came to it, the two could swap positions. As long as the woman hadn’t hurt herself, and if she had then they were in real trouble.
Espinoza: Can you see anythin’ to grab onto? I dunno if this is gonna hold with both of our weight.
Neathler: Response
The older woman pulled herself away from the edge of the new hole in the ground, and up onto her feet with a knee crack or two. Her eyes narrowed to the frame of the mechanical man among them. He had wires, yes, and they probably strong enough, but she doubted they were long enough to reach down to the pair. What he did possess was anchoring abilities, that he'd already demonstrated minutes before.
She wiped her nose and nodded, muttering away the possibilities until actual, audible words reached her lips.
Finch: The suit and I are going to climb down and anchor ourselves a little bit above you both. He’s solid and sturdy enough for the job, as long the ground doesn’t shift around us again.
There weren't any redundancies in place for any accidents, and then there was an issue of equalization if he did manage to pick the other two up. Variables upon variables, yet again. It was currently all she had.
Climbing onto his back, the mech suit’s actuators kicked into action again, and with a few calculated twists and turns, began scaling the crumbling inner wall of the latticed pit. Occasional puffs of red soil flew out as his claw-like hands drilled in for stability, landing in specs on top of Doz’s jittering white bob.
Neathler / Espinoza: Response
Finch: Hold on tight, we’re coming down! And about as fast we can without sliding towards oblivion.
Neathler / Espinoza: Response