[ti]Ep 2[/ti]- Fixed Point - (Closed)
Mar 5, 2017 21:34:43 GMT -5
Post by Feldspar on Mar 5, 2017 21:34:43 GMT -5
Week 3. Day 3. Five PM
Late afternoon, and the sun sinking slowly towards the horizon. Faint white mares' tail clouds drifted overhead. The light filtered down through the scrubby dark stands of Bristlecone Pines that trailed down the land's sharp flanks. Heat shimmered and wavered the tawny, dry grass. Ridges rose from up from all sides and created a deep bowl in the Nevada landscape.
Scattered through the slopes and grass were dead trees; bones of the high forests, bleached grey and smooth by high heat and pouring rain.
Towering over the entire landscape was a grey, craggy mountain. The talus littered angles were covered with a pale, sparse soil and then fell away into large weathered fissures. The massive feature seemed to be like a geological tack; the crest of it steady and strong as if it was one of the things that pinned the atmosphere to the ground.
A hawk circled overhead. It had been riding the thermals; dark wings outstretched as it soared ever upward in lazy loops.
Here, within the bowl of the Great Basin, under the watchful eye of Mount Moriah...
Wheeljack woke up.
Things were muzzy and soft. His visual system were flickering in out of focus, all he would be able to see above him was fuzzy, sparse branches and blue sky. Things were warm and comfortable; well, mostly comfortable, anyway.
Except for one incredibly annoying thing.
Poke.
It stopped.
Oh good. Perhaps it had gone away, and Wheeljack could blissfully settle back into shut-down. Five more minutes, then he'd have to go catch a transport or something.
Poke.
Guess not.
Still annoying. Still prodding cautiously and carefully against his shoulder. Once. Twice. It didn't make a noise like metal on metal. Instead, it gave a softly muted tap when it came back and nudged at him again, this time managing to hit an uncomfortable spot right under his arm.
Not to mention the fact that his fuel systems were whining at him.
Nothing absolutely dangerous yet, but he was low.
Also, a rather large rock was digging into right into the small of his back.
Late afternoon, and the sun sinking slowly towards the horizon. Faint white mares' tail clouds drifted overhead. The light filtered down through the scrubby dark stands of Bristlecone Pines that trailed down the land's sharp flanks. Heat shimmered and wavered the tawny, dry grass. Ridges rose from up from all sides and created a deep bowl in the Nevada landscape.
Scattered through the slopes and grass were dead trees; bones of the high forests, bleached grey and smooth by high heat and pouring rain.
Towering over the entire landscape was a grey, craggy mountain. The talus littered angles were covered with a pale, sparse soil and then fell away into large weathered fissures. The massive feature seemed to be like a geological tack; the crest of it steady and strong as if it was one of the things that pinned the atmosphere to the ground.
A hawk circled overhead. It had been riding the thermals; dark wings outstretched as it soared ever upward in lazy loops.
Here, within the bowl of the Great Basin, under the watchful eye of Mount Moriah...
Wheeljack woke up.
Things were muzzy and soft. His visual system were flickering in out of focus, all he would be able to see above him was fuzzy, sparse branches and blue sky. Things were warm and comfortable; well, mostly comfortable, anyway.
Except for one incredibly annoying thing.
Poke.
It stopped.
Oh good. Perhaps it had gone away, and Wheeljack could blissfully settle back into shut-down. Five more minutes, then he'd have to go catch a transport or something.
Poke.
Guess not.
Still annoying. Still prodding cautiously and carefully against his shoulder. Once. Twice. It didn't make a noise like metal on metal. Instead, it gave a softly muted tap when it came back and nudged at him again, this time managing to hit an uncomfortable spot right under his arm.
Not to mention the fact that his fuel systems were whining at him.
Nothing absolutely dangerous yet, but he was low.
Also, a rather large rock was digging into right into the small of his back.