by The Kingpin » Sat Oct 27, 2012 9:54 pm
Banners. That was the first thing that would stand out on the walls of this base. two long red and black banners hung on either side of the main gate, forming a cross made of 3 stripes along each main 'limb' of the pattern, a white circle forming its centre. In the middle of the white circle was the characteristic reversed Swastika. This was a Nazi facility. A regime that had been wiped out in the second World War, somehow stood here, a combination of both modern and old designs, the falcon of the Nazi standard hanging proudly, almost arrogantly, over the gate, despite the fact the once formidable facility it heralded now lay in ruins. red lights flashed within the facility beyond the gates as a siren rang out over the base. And yet, there was no sign of a single living soul anywhere. wreckage covered most of the ground between the gates and the facility bordered within, and trails of blood led into the facility through various doorways in various sectors of the building...
Jacob meanwhile, sat at his desk within his own room. the chamber was small and utilitarian, though Jacob didn't mind, having lived with such conditions, if not worse, for most of his life. It kept things simple, just the way he liked it. The bed folded out of the wall on one side of the room, with a Molecular Maintenence Chamber set beside it. Across from the bed, in one corner of the room, was the man's desk, which folded, again, out of the wall, facing the bed and with the door standing in the opposite corner of the room. His trenchcoat hung horizontal within the Molecular Maintenance Chamber, being cleared of impurities and rebuilt wherever damages had occurred, though Jacob knew that little harm would have come to the clothing thanks to the powerful molecular structure of the fabric. Dim lighting kept the chamber's environment soothing, helping to calm the soldier's energetic, if somewhat irritable nerves.
A desk lamp shimmered across his desk, extending upwards out of the desk's surface in a cylindrical formation and unfolding to overhang it slightly, casting a moderately powerful white light over the work space. Interestingly enough, the light from the lamp was directed in such a way that very little of the light was scattered in any direction other than the desk itself, meaning that, to anyone looking at it, it seemed to be very dim, if operational at all, though the desk itself was very well lit. to one side of the desk was a coaster with a cup of what could only be coffee, its rich smell alone enough to keep one awake, although the cyborg barely needed it. Beside the cup, his handgun waited, the weapon ever ready for whatever task it had to carry out. In front of him, an electronic clipboard flowed through a long record of information, light orange characters rolling along the dark orange, almost black background. He had had another communication with Atlas during the night, and he had been given a list of things to investigate and study during his stay here. Most of it was stuff he could manage himself, or, at the very least, could understand with little trouble, as long as his life and experience had been in the technically complex. There were a few things however, that he was unfamiliar with, mostly related to the Relativity Coil technology and it's applications. Some data packets had been sent to him as well, to be uploaded onto Felicity's data banks. They included schematics, technical manuals and other things that would be of use to Kane should he ever need more information on the technology than he was taught. With Kane's recorded skills in improvisation, this would likely prove useful in the future.
As a metallic plate slid aside on the far wall, a high pitched, though gentle tone drew his attention, a duplicate of the information reaching Kane at that same moment. It seemed that, wherever it was they were supposed to go, they had arrived. Getting up, he turned towards the door, making his way to the cockpit...
"Ah yes, organised chaos. the sign of a clever but ever-busy mind. To the perpetrator, a carefully woven web of belongings and intrigue, but to the bystander? Madness!"
–William Beckett, Lore of Leyuna RPG