When You Scream Into The Abyss

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Scene Title	When You Scream Into The Abyss…
Synopsis	After surviving their encounter with the pirates of the Stormfront, the Travelers reach the end of their long journey…
Date	December 23, 2018

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A peal of thunder cuts through the air accompanied by an immediate flash of lightning, backlighting the driving snow covering the rocky island in a thin coat of slushy ice. It's hard to tell where in Massachusetts this black spot of land once was, a high hill somewhere near Cambridge, perhaps. The windswept granite rock now holds a single concrete building, squat and flat-roofed, with a tall radio antenna tower rising up from its roof to a height of well over four hundred feet. It's a miracle the winds haven't torn it down.

The people of the Pelago told stories of this place, and each year the myth of it grows. For red lights flash all the way to the tower’s pinnacle, drawing electricity from somewhere, but with no functioning power plants anywhere in the region. All of the equipment inside remains functional, despite the evidence of multiple attempts at taking the radio station over. Multiple graves dusted with ice and snow on the island show how futile that is. Nothing can survive here for long.

Nothing but the lights from the tower, which have gradually been fading through the years.

A once shining beacon, that now flickers in a dream.

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The Tower

The Stormfront

December 23rd

9:12 pm

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“We’re not far now!”

Screaming over the hurricane force winds driving sleet, James Woods leads the way across the rocky island with the light of the derelict radio station at his back. Lantern held in one hand, the progression of the Travelers is like a microcosm of their sea voyage with Woods’ ship lighting the way through the storm.

Bundled up against the cold, Carina Harrison requires her daughter’s aid to stand upright. Dark circles ring her eyes like she was punched in each of them. She's hard of hearing now, will be for a few days, and she clings to her daughter’s side with the staunch determination of a mountain goat clinging to a cliff face. Not far away, Kain carries Aurora on his back, looking like a Sherpa as bundled in heavy coats and blankets as he is to keep her warm.

Woods turns to look back at the group, squinting against the wind and the snow, counting. He turns to Destiny at his side, a little nervous, then nods once in reassurance and continues trekking ahead. They'd stopped long enough at the radio station to warm up, to say goodbyes, but now was the time to make good on promises and see this through to the end.

“Here!” Woods cries out, pointing ahead. As he does, Walter Trafford slowly shakes his head and turns a look over to Mateo and Lynette as he walks beside them. There's worry in his eyes, for them, for their child they travel with, for the future. He moves a hand to the hilt of his sword strapped to his belt and starts to hustle ahead wordlessly.

As Woods moves ahead, he steps out onto an old wooden pier. The deck is icy, pylons crusted with snow, but in the distance past the end of the pier there's a dark shape like a boat, tucked away in a cove on the opposite side of the island from where they had landed. But it isn't a boat.

The rusting metal hulk covered in ice was once painted white and has no decks or masts. It is a long, roughly rectangular vessel with a hatch at roughly pier-level. Along the side of the ship is faded blue and white paint that shows a pirate ship and a creating wave with text that reads Historic Massachusetts Shipwrecks.

Below that, more tellingly: Cape Cod Submarine Tours.

It’s all gone. Everything that was once the entire life of Soleil Remi Davignon is gone, probably down at the bottom of the ocean or carried away by the waves by now. The crew she’s been in charge of for years, her beloved ship and the little trinkets that she kept to remember her life before the water came, it’s all been washed away. The only ones she has left are Jasper and the newest member of her crew, Geneva — Magnes and Elaine, too.

At least she still has them.

Despite being able to warm her bones and change into clothing that was much less soaked by surviving the destruction of her ship, it’s difficult to be fully rid of the chill that has been clinging to her bones since she was pulled out of the water. The former captain of the Sayonara still hasn’t let herself really wrap her mind around what has happened today — now is certainly not the time. Perhaps later she will let herself unravel, when she might obtain a private moment.

For now, however, the telepath is bundled up against the cold, with her former First Mate’s arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm and helping her walk over the icy ground. In turn, the telepath clings tightly to him, using the contact to keep her ability focused on him — his world of silence has always had a good effect on her, which is especially helpful after all of the dying minds she has touched today.

At least she still has him.

Their destination is regarded cooly — she’s still a bit too numb from everything to be very reactionary, though a submarine is certainly an experience that the former actress has never had. This should prove interesting — if they don’t all die, that is.

With her good arm around her mother, Elisabeth holds them both against the wind. She didn't realize until it was over, thanks to the adrenaline rush, that the falling mast on the Featherweight had actually done damage to her — her right arm had been partially protected by the heavy jacket but something in the falling debris had actually pierced through and ripped a gash down the outside. It would have ripped right through the muscle without the layers she was wearing, so she's lucky. Aside from needing a tight dressing that will suffice in place of the stitches she probably needs and babying pulled muscles a little on that side because of the way she'd been hit, she's actually not terribly bad off. The arm is still usable, at least, just hurting like a wicked bitch.

A glance toward Kain, where Aurora clings like a small monkey to him beneath the layers of jackets and blankets, reassures her that they're doing okay. She too is doing regular head counts to make sure they haven't lost anyone in the swirling winds and sleet. Dear God it's cold. And being soaked to the skin is not helping.

The submarine is everything she feared and more — if the damn thing actually makes it to the Ark, Elisabeth will be surprised. Her expression is grim as she and Carina come to a stop just before stepping on the icy pier. "Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick," she mutters, perhaps just to lighten her own terrors. It's not as if anyone else will likely hear her in the howling wind.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…

Lynette walks with Evie on her hip. They're both bundled up with a blanket tucked around them. Evie's hands press down against her ears, trying to keep the noise of the winds at bay. Lynette shares a look with Walter, reflecting his worry for a moment before she remembers she's supposed to be sure of herself. By the time she thinks to reassure him, perhaps with a smile, he's already moving off. Part of her is grateful. Smiles are harder to fake these days.

When they reach the sub, she lets out a sigh that's lost to the wind. She looks over at Ruiz, stepping closer to him as she leans in to speak to Evie. "How would you like to be an ocean explorer, my little darling?" she asks, lifting the girl's hand for just a moment. Even though she covers her ear again, Evie also grins, eyes widening as she looks over at the sub.

She would like to be an ocean explorer very much, thank you.

In warm clothes, though not as thoroughly bundled as Evie, Ruiz grins down at his future ocean explorer and nods a little. “Maybe we’ll see some fish while we’re at it.” At least he can look on the bright side for the little girl’s sake, but he silently has to wonder out loud, “Does anyone know how to pilot one of these things?”

While it is cold as heck to everyone else, there is one person bouncing along the deck doing some basic repairs who isn’t the least bit cold. Denisa Mendoza looks warm and cheerful in nothing but her full wetsuit. She’s even strapped on a pair of goggles and an oxygen tank and checked out all the remaining ships hulls for damages that needed to be made before they continued on their mission and the frost never really seemed to have bothered or stick to her and the same is true as she stands on the end of the pier with her friends. Though, apparently her ability isn’t perfect, cause she still has a bandage around her hand from the burn she got touching a smoke grenade unprotected long enough to throw it. Twice.

“Nice. A submarine,” is what she says with a grin back toward Mala, who is bundled up in a thick parka, complete with fuzzy hood that’s pulled up over her face. She smiles faintly, but nods at her best friend’s sheer joy. At least that’s nicer than the some of the other emotions wafting around her.

Blond haired Lucy also stands nearby, though her hair is less visible under equally heavy bundling, where she can help Lance with his adopted daughter if he needs it. “And is there going to be room for everyone?” she has to ask on Ruiz’s heels, tilting her head at it and then looking at the group they brought with them.

Through the rest of the trip to this place, through the cease fire, through everything, Cassandra has stuck close to Elisabeth and Aurora and, even now, she’s near. The tear gas finally, blessedly, wore off, dissuading fears of a lifetime of permanent blindness or dim vision thanks to the assault on the boat. She wasn’t entirely clear on how someone managed to convince Sawyer to cease fire, but whoever negotiated that gets a gold star in her book. How it happened wasn’t for her to worry about, only that it did, and now standing with the group in front of a rusted hulk of a submarine that was supposed to ferry them to the ark down below, a sense of unease that’s been growing in the pit of her stomach really starts to make its presence known.

“Jesus, what a piece of junk…” she says, looking to Liz, her voice barely heard through the howl of the driving sleet and wind, her eyes the only thing visible from beneath the waterproof canvas tarp she brought with her from the boat to fend off the worst of the wind. “That’s…it, huh? That’s the way out of this place?” she sighs, shaking her head. “We’re going to stay for a while, I guess. I knew this was a one-way trip but…” She winces as she tenses, her left hand wrapped tight in gauze, second degree burns on the palm from the burning C4 on the boat.

Silas is bundled tightly against the cold, wearing a spare sweater with only a small hole or two, an extra scarf borrowed from one of the ladies of the Forthright — an old, ridiculously long thing with bands of color on it that somehow hadn't entirely faded — a pair of insulated work gloves on his hands, an old and slightly mangy looking ushanka on his head. A bandage is just visible peeking out from under the brow of the hat, above his right eye — the cut hadn't been particularly deep, thankfully.

He glances back once — the Tower is a thing that has acquired a certain mythos in this half-drowned world — but his attention doesn't linger long on the way back. No; that pervasive, heavy feeling that there is no way back for him still hangs heavy over him.

Instead, Silas turns his gaze forward… though it does pause briefly as he spies the captain of the Sayonara. Silas debates saying something to her… but no. Now's not the time. He feels bad about it—Remi'd always had a knack for picking up on his fouler moods, even when he'd try to hide them, but he doubts that even his gift of gab is up to the task of doing anything to improve Remi's state of mind right now.

He lets his gaze move on instead, to the submarine. Looks like someone else is doing the pre-voyage checkup. Good. He's used to working with the Forthright, but he doesn't actually know much about submarines… and, for that matter, his carpetbag of tools had been lost when that damn raft had flipped. Coulda been worse, he thinks. He still has his multitool and a few basic tools he'd had spares for on the Forthright, at least.

"This oughta be… interesting," he murmurs to himself, rubbing his gloved hands together.

Elisabeth finds a reassuring hand on her shoulder when they stop at the pier and find their chariot awaits. I've got you, Odessa promises without words, but with a sympathetic look for her friend. It's not as bad as the coffins from the wasteland, but claustrophobia doesn't care about comparative safety.

Destiny Ruiz gives a double thumbs up, shivering against the cold when the sub comes into view. This is their way in, and she has no reservations about it. If she and Else could manage to escape with it on their own, then this will be a breeze.

At least until they arrive. But could anyone down there really be expecting anyone to return? Des has her doubts and firmly believes they'll have the element of surprise. She's practically bouncing with excitement as she makes her way toward the sub.

"I'm not looking forward to this." Magnes says as he keeps a bit of a firm hold on Elaine's arm. His body is ridiculously light at the moment, due to his ability being burned out. "When my ability's barely functional, I'm not the biggest fan of trying new things."

He's done his best to get his and Elaine's clothes dry and try to keep them from being -entirely- ruined while they were at the tower, but he wasn't exactly feeling his best. If anyone had thread, he'd have tried his best to repair coats and anything that might protect them from the harsh conditions of the winter.

With the wind howling as it is and the snow and sleet flying in the wind, it's hard to respond to any of the comments. But Cassandra gets a nod from Elisabeth and there's a small smile — desperate and definitely tense — for Odessa. Under the wind where it won't hurt the bouncy one's feelings, Liz mutters to Odessa, "I can't decide if that's a good look for you or not, but… I gotta tell you, I like you much better." It's a wry confession. Bouncy Des just gives Liz a sort of chill down her back sometimes… as if seeing the innocence juxtaposed with the Odessas that she knows is like seeing a mindwiped version of reality. Too innocent. It's the same kind of low-level uneasiness Liz feels about her mother's mental damage — a sorrow for something lost.

Jerking her chin toward Kain, she sends her voice on a straight vector to their ears as she asks him (and Aurora), "You guys ready for 'Under the Sea'?" Because she's betting money her child's gonna be belting it out at the top of her little lungs as soon as they're underway. The Little Mermaid was Aura's favorite movie for nearly a year before they jumped the first time. The little girl bounces exuberantly on Kain's back, pounding the back of his shoulder at that idea.

Just behind Kain, Ling stands silently. Aside from occasional glances over to Aurora and a sparse muttering or two, she hasn't had much to say for a while now. But at the mention of Under The Sea, she narrows her eyes. "I wish for everyone's sanity, and that will not last with that song." Less hard edged than normal, but still stern sounding.

Her gaze turns to Magnes next. "At this point, I do not believe we have much choice, Magnes." A smirk forms on her face. "Now is not the time to be having doubts, I am afraid." They are, after all, likely counting on him to get them out of Waterworld.

“It's either that or ‘Hakuna Matata.’” Cassandra warns Ling. “Thankfully that one doesn't fit, but if it keeps people in good spirits, the opening number, “Circle of Life,” sounds great with a reverb.” She glances to the ocean behind and then moves to stand near Elisabeth, checking on her, before making her way towards the gaping hatch of the sub. She's careful not to touch exposed metal with her bare hand, supporting herself as she leans in to look at the interior of the sub. “If we're going to have this conversation, at least let's get out of the weather to have it. We've come too far to stop now.” And, with a little bit of hesitation, Cassandra steps aside, standing near the hatch of the sub.

“Please no,” is Remi’s response to the question of ‘Under the Sea’, still leaning against Jasper to keep warm. “I already had to deal with Magnes serenading us with ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’, which is arguably the worst Christmas music to exist.” Remi’s trying, at least, to be jovial, despite the fact that she is still pretty numb about losing almost everything that was her life prior to today.

Blue eyes find Silas, and Remi pulls away from the tall deaf man, drifting over to him. Instead of words, she simply…leans against the older man, wrapping one arm around his shoulder. Today has been extremely difficult, Silas. She glances up to the man, forcing a tiny smile. But thank you for thinking of me.

"This is insane," Namiko says, once she sees the sub. "We're all crazy." Her hands move to her hips and she glances toward the others. The music talk is what makes her frown, though. She had to leave her music and her equipment behind, and the sting of it is sinking in right here in this moment. But. She glances toward Shaw and Isa, finding her bearings by the relationship of her pseudo-family's position and her own in space. "And there's way worse Disney than Under the Sea. She could like It's a Small World."

And then they really would be crazy.

“Come on, Namiko. It’s not like that’s a big surprise.” Miles comes up behind her, his hands shoved in the pockets of a coat likely borrowed from someone or other, because it doesn’t fit him well. It’s warm, though, so that’s something.

*“But we’re never gonna survive unless…we get a little…”* he sings, shooting a grin in Namiko’s direction. It’s not Disney, but it’ll have to do for the moment. He leaves it at that, unless there’s anyone among them who a) knows the song, and b) takes their cues from Beethoven and can’t rest unless a piece has come to its conclusion.

If there isn’t room for all of us, I’m knifing people Lance’s hands flicker in Lucy’s direction, his lips pursed in a tight line. Us in this case seems to be himself, Lucy, and the baby that’s secured to his chest by a harness and bundled up against the weather. He may be considering Mala and Denisa to be part of ‘us’ too, although he’s really not sure what to think about them - versions of his dead childhood friends, who’d never known him or Lucy or Hailey. Not to mention Santa.

This world-hopping thing is weird.

Eric Doyle’s moving near the aforementioned Mala and Denisa himself, bundled up in a heavy woolen coat with a scarf that’s wrapped nearly all the way around his head like a makeshift shemagh, only his eyes showing as he squints against the sleet, moving with a careful and awkward step. The ground’s icy and he’s never been the most graceful person.

“I’m singing Under the Sea as soon as we get in that submarine, I hope everyone realizes that,” he mutters as a muffled aside to Meredith.

“Not if I slow cook you like a Christmas ham,” Meredith sweetly whispers back, taking one of Doyle’s arms and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Apparently a lot of people are,” Ruiz deadpans with a grin on the heels of multiple people bringing up Under the Sea. It’s enough to make him grin as he reaches down and adjusts the little girl’s clothes a little. “I’ve never really been a fan of that one, myself. I’d pick Yellow Submarine.” Though, sadly, the submarine wasn’t very yellow.

“I love Under the Sea,” Denisa cheers, before moving closer to squint over the submarine. She’d dive under water, but she doesn’t think it’s necessary. If it had leaks it would be obvious, probably. Mala’s grinning behind her.

Lucy nods to the words from her brother, because all of the original Lighthouse Kids had been her siblings as far as she was ever concerned. She had been so young when Denisa had died, but she could see that little girl in the young adult that moved about. What she’d always remembered most was how she would just give the coats others tried to make her wear to the other kids. She had never needed it. And her going out despite the cold and without the need of protection had been part of why they had lost her, in the end.

And Mala. This one just seemed so much stronger physically than theirs. Not just the ability she possessed, but the way she moved, the fullness of her cheeks. And Santa Claus…

“You won’t have to knife anyone,” she assures him. “I’m sure we’ll make room.”

"Not Octopus' Garden?" Lynette asks, watching Ruiz as he fixes Evie's gear. They have options, is her point. Not to mention Lucy In The Sky, which is now always an option.

"I want to see a squid," Evie pipes up with, which is neither here nor there as far as the musical discussion. "Papí," she says as she looks over at Ruiz, "can I find a brand new one? One that no one's seen before?" There's a pause before she adds, "I want it to be blue and shiny."

Namiko reaches over to give Miles a friendly, but exasperated shove. "You should be ashamed of yourself," she says, as if he's committed some sort of faux pas. And he has. He should feel bad.

Silas is taken a little by surprise as Remi leans on him, but as he hears her he musters a wry smile of his own. Forgot what sharp ears you have, he thinks, wryly amused… and well aware that she can hear it. He knows about her trickjust as she knows about hisbut it's still a little surprising.

He turns his gaze back to the submarine. And yeah. I'll just bet it has been a rough one. There's a joke about 'All I Want for Christmas is You' being terrible that's trying hard to slip into his thoughts, but he makes an effort to… not. Sayonara was a pretty boat, and she had a good crew. I'm sorry, he thinks, reaching around with his free hand and patting her lightly once, twice.

At her last thought, he glances back to her, his wry smile widening. Anytime, Sunshine. Anytime, he thinks. His grin widens a bit further as he hears one of the kids piping up about wanting to see a squid.

Everyone’s spirits seem to be pretty up, so Remi does her best to pull herself out of the funk she’s been in. It’s not easy to do, especially when she hasn’t even had the chance to fully process everything. Silas’ sentiment prompts another feeble attempt at a smile, along with a nod. She had races named after her, once, she projects to Silas, and her crew was like family.

She knew what the costs might be, she just wasn’t expecting it to be so…drastic. Not to mention the fate of the boat that had set upon the Sayonara — that moment will haunt her for many nights to come, she’s sure. She knew she could use her ability to persuade others to do things, but that…

She shakes her head once, keeping those thoughts from her friend. The smile, which doesn’t really touch her eyes, is offered up briefly to Silas, before the former ship captain returns to the safety of Jasper’s arms.

While the others discuss their situation, looking to find measures of hope and health within the pain that is their situation — either stranded in a time that is not their own, or seeking to abandon the lives they’ve known for a fairy tale in another world — James Woods pulls a pair of keys out of his jacket pocket, a small plastic frog head dangling from the chain. The smiling frog with coal black dots for eyes jingles with a bell inside as he moves along the pier, then across stacked boards leading onto the railing-ringed roof of the sub.

When Destiny fled the Ark, Else had nearly run the vessel aground trying to pilot it without any real appreciable skill. As Woods crouches to unlock the hatch, Elisabeth feels a shift at her side as Carina nudges herself forward and slips out from her daughter’s protective embrace. She affords a gentle touch to Liz’s shoulder — I’ll be fine, it says — and then carefully walks across the icy pier toward Woods.

“Do you know how to work that?” Carina asks up to Woods, who squints against the driving sleet to take account of who’s addressing him. He unlocks the hatch and hauls it open with a noisy shriek of protesting, ungreased metal. Carina sees his wide-eyed silence as confession, and begins to walk across the boards.

“It’s in bad enough shape as it is,” Carina insists, moving up to Woods and taking the keys from him. “I know how it works,” she insists, firing him a pointed look before climbing down the ladder inside. Woods watches Carina descend, momentarily taken aback by her forward demeanor, then looks up to the others gathered on the pier.

“Allright ladies an’ gents! Last call for cold feet! Once you board this, that’s it. We’re headed off’f this— ” he can’t say world, “rock?” Good job, Woods. “Kids an’ guardians first, hand the wee ones down t’me an’ I’ll get them in place. It’s gonna be tight, so I hope you’re all bloody friends!//” With that, Woods gives Destiny and her doppelganger a reassuring look and then nervously descends the submarine ladder.

Inside, the tourist vessel is maybe eight feet wide and six feet tall, but more than sixty feet long. Carina has already moved to the front where a pair of seats view a lightless ocean surf through domed glass. Portholes line the walls and contoured plastic bench seating rests in the middle of the sub, facing out toward the windows that show nothing but darkness.

“Since exactly when can you pilot a fucking submarine?” Woods asks Carina now that they’re alone. He positions himself at the bottom of the ladder, looking up in wait for children to help down. Carina, settling in at the controls, puts the keys in the ignition but doesn’t yet turn the engine over. Instead she looks at the analog gauges for the oxygen supplies, tapping them with a distressed noise at the back of her throat.

“Carina.” Woods tries to get her to stop ignoring him. She fires a look back over her shoulder, scowling. Woods relents, then makes a soft sound in the back of his throat and looks back up to the ladder.

Outside, Kain takes the first long strides across the planks to the submarine, settling down on a knee and unburdening himself of blankets and extra jackets, taking Aurora off of his back. “Ah’llright darlin’, we’re gonna’ go see Poseidon, King of the Sea.”

Aurora wrinkles her nose. “Michelle and she’s Queen.”

Kain closes his eyes and shakes his head, one hand at his brow. Then, just picking her up like a sack of potatoes he moves to deposit her down the ship’s ladder. “Tinkerbell’s all yours, Woods. Careful, she bites!”

“Nu-uh!” Aurora protests with a giggle.

Not far from the edge of the pier, Walter looks down to the sword at his hip, then over to Lance with furrowed brows and the child in his care. Easing his way through the large group, Walter comes up beside Lance and rests a hand on his shoulder. Wordless, reassuring. It’ll be ok. Walter hopes his expression conveys the same.

It doesn’t. He looks terrified.

“Hum one bar,” Meredith says a few feet away to Doyle, “and I swear to God, Eric.” She flashes him a warm smile after that, cranking up the heat that she and Isabelle are throwing off as the frigid wind picks up.

The question about Octopus Garden gets a grin and a shake of his head, though really either were a good choice. Ruiz had been contrary, anyway. But at his little girl, he nods, “If you do find one no one has seen before, you get to name it,” he says to her, before taking her hand and moving into said submarine to find a good seat near the front, with one near the window for the little girl. She had to find an squid no one has ever seen before, after all.

Odessa flashes a smirk at Elisabeth. "She's something else, for sure." Despite a little bit of vindication in being the better-liked version of herself, she'd be a liar if she didn't admit to some pang of loss for the person she could have been if she'd had the life Destiny apparently had.

Destiny, meanwhile, exchanges a look with the older version of herself, none the wiser to the conversation at hand, and waves enthusiastically to both her and Elisabeth. She's definitely lying by not admitting to some level of terror about what they're setting out to do, here at the point of no return.

But if nothing else, someone has to be Mala's battery. "Shotgun!" Des calls down the hatch after Woods descends, then sets about helping to get the kids into place.

With the door of the sub unlocked and people starting to step inside, Cassandra finds herself in line in front of and behind someone she doesn’t know very well, and that’s a constant in this world. There is familiarity everywhere, but different faces and names attached to it all, all covered up in a blanket of confusion visible to the travellers that seems to drape over everything . After all, this isn’t their world.

Once on board, Cassandra rummages around in her magical backpack, pulling out a small shake-operated LED flashlight, giving it a few back and forth movements, like she’s shaking a can of spray paint, before clicking it on. Situating herself inside the door, Cassandra helps anyone who needs help into the sub, offering her hand to support anyone from slipping as they step inside and pointing towards available seats with flashes from her light - at least until Woods gets the power turned on.

“Liz…” She looks over to the blonde woman, one of the few constants she’s had in this trip across dimensions, glancing to Aurora and Ruiz in their seats before looking back to the other woman. “It’s all going to be okay. It’s got to be.” She tries to put on a brave face when she says that, too, but it’s hard to hide the fact that she’s terrified of the unknown that they’re going to encounter beneath the waves.

Miles makes a little outraged noise when he gets shoved by Namiko, bringing his arm up to rub his shoulder as though he’s been injured, though he can’t keep it up for long, and he laughs a moment later. “Always,” he confirms. “But that’s what you like about me.”

He does get a little more sober when people are starting to go in, though, and he looks behind him for a moment, as though contemplating just peacing out as is his wont. However, he looks over at Namiko again then, and takes a breath, then turns back forward, squaring his shoulders and waiting his turn.

A faint frown pulls Elisabeth's brows down as Carina heads into the sub apparently to drive it? A glance to Odessa holds puzzlement, and then she simply moves forward to join the boarding process. She grins just a bit and shoulder-checks Kain gently. "You know she's gonna make you sing, right?" A wink at Ling says she's joking… maybe.

Clambering aboard the tight transport, Liz squeezes herself into taking up as small a space as possible with Aurora on her lap. She watches as the others get aboard, checking visually to make sure Lance and the baby, Lynette and Evie and Mateo, all the others are finding seats. And then her curiosity gets the better of her. Though she keeps her voice low, she manipulates it so that Carina can hear it even with the damage to her hearing.

"Mom? Would you like to talk about how and why you know how to manage a submarine?" Her tone is vaguely amused but… there's a touch of worry there too. There's a lot she doesn't know about her mother.

“No.” Carina says as she checks another gauge, then begins flipping switches overhead, turning on interior lights that are recessed in cracked domes in the ceiling. There's something in her tone, guilt, or maybe anger.

Expression flat, Ling's eyes shift from person to person as they begin to board the submarine. "This is it," she says in a voice low enough for only Kain and a few others around her to hear. "This is where we all die, isn't it?" Because it really feels like no one is actually prepared for what is about to happen.

Still, she sucks in a long breath and shakes her head. "Hopefully, they can figure it out," is a somewhat forced thought of positivity. There are kids around, afterall, and while Ling isn't the biggest fan of children, she would also rather not pry open that particular can of worms.

Once the kids are in and it’s Remi’s turn to board the submarine, the woman hesitates, pausing long enough to look out at the churning seas around the area with a faint frown. “J'espère que c'est la dernière fois que je regarde cet endroit horrible.” She shakes her head slowly, before turning to look at the hatch leading into the ship.

She hesitates for a different reason, this time, her hand moving to squeeze Jasper’s arm. She’s about to climb into a tin can with a lot of other people, and her head is still a bit sore from all of the action. After taking that moment, however, the telepath climbs down the ladder, followed shortly by Jasper. Her blankets drawn around her, Remi finds her way to a comfortable seating spot and settles in, closing her eyes.

For a moment, she opens up, listening to everyone’s thoughts, hand clasping Jasper’s to anchor her.

Silas waits near the back of the group as the others edge forward; he has no children here, nor is he anyone's guardian. All that's left, for the moment, is to wait while others board.

He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a small pendant — a single pearl, now surrounded in a cage of curving wires. He isn't entirely sure what an omamori is, but he thinks it's a passable amulet, at least. Who knows. Maybe it did bring fortune; I'm still alive, right?

Unless this whole damn ocean is the River Styx, and that's Charon's ferry. The thought bubbles up unbidden from the depths of his mind; it's grim enough that he nearly laughs aloud. Graveyard humor feels… appropriate.

But… the kids seem excited, anyway. Maybe he should take his cue from them; worrying and fretting about things he can't change isn't going to do anyone any good. He tucks the handmade amulet back into his shirt, turning his attention forward again; the group standing outside the sub has diminished quite a bit.

Maybe I can still make a difference. Never know when you'll need a fix done on the quick. That's why I'm here, right? he thinks to himself. He casts one last look back — the Tower's slowly dying lights still blink dully in the storm, and he knows that Featherweight is still moored to the dock. He wonders how the crew of the Forthright will fare against the Sentinel; he's never been much for prayer, but he says one for them anyway. For the whole Pelago, come to that.

'Last call for cold feet', Woods had said. In truth, Silas feels like he'd passed that line a long time ago… so he squares his shoulders and moves forward.

“Somebody once told me that the world’s full of stories,” Lance says after a moment of taking in Walter’s expression, one hand lifting off the baby’s head to briefly clasp the older man’s hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think ours is done yet. Think it’s just getting started with another one. C’mon. Let’s go do some legendary shit so ‘Lene here has something to tell her kids about.”

A smile’s flashed— edge-thing, but there— and he’s moving to the submarine hatch to drop down through. Less confident than he’s trying to sound, less for him, than for the life of the child he’s carrying. All that’s left of his sister.

“Music keeps people's spirits up,” Eric teasing protests Meredith’s implicit threat with a grin beneath the scarves, moving up behind Mala and Denisa— drawing in a deep breath to minimize his chest size before working down through the hatch as well. “Well,” he mutters, tugging the scarf down to loop around his neck, “This is— cozy.”

Magnes looks to various people. Mostly Lance, Lucy, Mala, Denisa. "When we all get back home, the Lighthouse Kids are probably going to completely lose it." Looking to Mala, Denisa and Lucy in particular. "Especially when you three show up."

"I wish I had my awesome bass from the Bright universe." he considers as he helps Elaine into the sub, which mostly just turns into her helping him into the sub, because he can't do much of anything properly right now, and he weighs about as much as a piece of cardboard.

"Well, if it turns out that we're all going to die horribly, maybe I'll be able to pull last minute dark matter power out of nowhere. Who knows." he just kind of shrugs at that. "You know, you're the most buff of all the Malas I've met." he points out, laughing a bit.

From where Lucy sits next to Lance, looking anxiously toward the back of the sub before she hears what Magnes has to say and tilts her head a little. Especially them three? It causes her to give Lance a concerned look. She understood why Denisa might have surprised them, as far as she was told that much had happened where Magnes had been from. But her and Mala too? It allowed her to draw the lines, and her mood drops a little.

The other two, however, did not experience that, and when they hear the Lighthouse Kids they thought of the children they had been living with. They were the Lighthouse Kids. Doyle had made them such, but also the place they lived had too. Instead of wondering what on earth he might mean, Mala just flexes an arm and says, “Why thank you.”

She certainly is the most physically fit of all those previous Malas. “I bet with the right mood I could throw this whole thing.” After a moment she adds. “Well, drag it around at least.”

After a moment Denisa leans toward Destiny to comment, “I’m surprised you didn’t know how to pilot one of these.” After all, the girl who she felt was about their age had always known way more about certain things than most people.

"Magnes," Elisabeth begins… and then she sighs quietly. "Look. When we get there… be careful what you say, please?" She doesn't have a lot of faith in the idea that the frigging Commonwealth is going to be all light and hope. "Do not give them more information than they need. I know we're working on a bit of a deadline, but… we need the lay of the land before we start telling anyone down here anything of substance." Her blue eyes skim to the rest of the people in the sub. Most of them clearly don't trust what's down here either, and she shrugs. "Better safe than sorry, hmm?"

The notion that she would get to name her discovery keeps Evie's mind occupied as the Ruizes get into the submarine. Lynette sits on the girl's other side, her hand holding onto her hand. She looks over at Ruiz, lips pressed together. She's worried, but she doesn't want her daughter to see.

"The Squid-rulean," Evie declares, a firm nod to cement her choice. When she looks up at her mother to see what she think, Lynette brings up a smile and leans over to kiss the top of her head. "I love it."

One of the sources of the groups warmth comes up behind Magnes and lays a hand on his shoulder, "What an optimistic line of thinking Mags," Isabelle grumbles and looks over her group of friends, family. Namiko and Miles given a once over, "Namiko," she's unsure what exactly she is going to say but it's along the lines of: Don't trust teleporters. Or the like. Just as soon as the "maternal" instinct kicks in so does come the embrasement and she looks off to the side before looking back towards the young DJ.

"I like your shoes." Lame.

A look to the other pyrokinetic Meredith, she doesn't know to ask her about the blue fire because of her brother but she has questions still she wants to ask. It's always nice having another around.

Miles looks around as he waits to go in, and his gaze happens to fall on Isabelle right when she’s looking him over. Skeptically, of course. Well, she wouldn’t be the first one to do so. “‘Sup?” he asks, as though he doesn’t see that skepticism. And who knows, maybe he doesn't. He’s not a mind reader.

Blue eyes find Carina and Elisabeth, the telepath watching the mother and daughter quietly, even as Jasper wraps his arms around her to keep her warm in response to a small shiver. She closes her eyes, turning her face downward and huddling a bit closer.

She’s still listening, but only a few people need to be privy to that fact.

Namiko swings her attention over to Isa when she hears her name spoken like that. When the woman doesn't stick the landing, as it were, Namiko lifts a hand up like she is trying to hide her eyes from Isa. "Oh my god," she says, her tone verging on melodramatics, "she is so embarrassing." When Miles greets the pyro, Namiko can't help but bark out a laugh. "Sup, he says, like we're all meeting at a club or something."

The name that his little girl chooses makes Ruiz smile, despite all the worry and tension that is rampant in many of the adults. And himself, even. “That is a wonderful name. You have your mother’s wit, mi sirena,” he responds with that same smile, looking over their daughter’s curly hair to meet said witty mother’s eyes.

Woods lingers by the hatch to make sure Shaw and the others have safely made it in, then climbs up and hauls the hatch door shut and seals the valve with a soft clunk. As he's climbing down the ladder, Carina turns the square ignition key over and the entire submersible hums to life and the exterior lights come on one by one, illuminating the wreckage of small rowboats, automobiles, and building debris all around outside.

Grabbing the receiver for an in-ship intercom, she glances over at Destiny, then grumbles into the microphone. “There's no reserve oxygen,” Carina flatly states, “but this tub should hold us for the short trip. It's about twenty minutes to our destination,” she indicates with a certainty that is both comforting and somewhat puzzling. “There's… enough fuel to get us there. Maybe halfway back if this goes sideways. Maybe more, but— I wouldn't be optimistic.”

Pulling back on a metal lever, Carina begins to negotiate the submarine away from the pier. “Woods, buckle the fuck up.” And with that, Carina disengages from the intercom. Woods, who’d been standing this entire time, hustles over to one of the unoccupied seats and straps in for the journey.

As the tour submarine drifts away from the pier, it turns to the east and begins to move at a creeping pace just a few feet from the bottom of what was clearly not a harbor. There are rows of cars covered in algae and seaweed, encrusted with barnacles, filled with skeletal human remains. Toppled tank trucks are twisted in wave-smashed debris of houses. There was a highway here, and soon it becomes clear that the island that held the Tower was in fact once a hill, and as the land below the submarine disappears into the dark, the horrible truth becomes easier to see. This was Massachusetts, drowned forever.

While buildings are visible outside of the submarine after a while, but Carina doesn't bother guiding this grim tour. Schools of fish swim out of empty windows, green freeway signs are so crusted in vegetation as to be illegible, and the sunken wrecks of storm-tossed ships lay in the dark far below the submarine like metal and fiberglass reefs.

Thin rivulets of water begin to track from the ceiling by the hatch, and as Walter notices them his brows tenses and he sits up straighter in his seat. “That's… not good. Right? That?” He points. Woods looks at the water, grimacing, and shakes his head.

“No,” Woods whispers back, “no tha’s a bloody leak. A teeny tiny one but… get me the fuck outta this thing.”

Seated by Elisabeth and Ling, Kain is hunched forward with his hands laced over the back of his neck breathing in deeply between his knees like he was preparing to give birth. “Ah’m already fuckin’ nauseous,” he grumbles with an urp between pauses in his words. “Pirates, fine. Ships, whatever. Submarines? Man, Ah’m drawin’ a— ” Kain lurches. “Drawin’ a line.”

"I think that line may be too late coming." Ling's tone is as dry as ever; at least outwardly she doesn't seem too concerned. Her eyes do linger on the leak that Walter and Woods have so dutifully pointed out for them all to be aware of. "It'll be over soon, one way or another," is offered with a distinct measure of sarcasm, gaze moving to look at Kain as she shakes her head.

The former hollywood starlet very pointedly does not look over toward the leak that Walter and Woods have noticed, instead opting to stare out at the underwater city with a frown on her face. She shot films here once, and to see it underwater is jarring, to say the least. She reaches up one hand, clad in a fingerless glove, and presses it against the glass.

Remi still listens in, her focus wandering between the gathered minds, but she withdraws into her own thoughts a bit. Sorrowful lines begin slowly edging their way into her delicate features. She squeezes Jasper’s hand, resting her forehead against the cold window of the submarine and watching the scenery pass.

"I would really love to have my ability a bit more functional right now." Magnes tiredly complains as he keeps a hold of Elaine's hand when they've finally sat down. Then, looking over at Isabelle, he shakes his head. "Hey, I'm plenty optimistic. As far as I'm concerned, we've been non-stop working miracles for the past seven years. I literally came back from the dead… I should really not jinx that."

A decent enough sailor above the water, once the submarine is in motion, Elisabeth pales a good bit as well. Who knew that seasickness underwater was a Thing?? Not her. Kain's reaction would have made her chuckle sympathetically above, but now it just makes her hope like mad he doesn't lose it here in the contained atmosphere of the sub. Sympathetic barfing is definitely a Thing. "Keep your eyes closed," she instructs the Cajun shakily. "I can cause vertigo, but I don't think I can counter it…" The vestibular system is a fragile thing. In an airplane, looking out the window helps, but she's not sure if that applies underwater. Especially given that the sub is not deep enough to get away from the surface chop of the storm and it's now sprung a leak.

Blowing out slow breaths, Liz just does her level best to hold on tight for the ride while Aurora climbs over her and over Kain to get to Evie so they can both peer out of one of the portals to the strange drowned world outside. "Lookit, izzat cars?? Why is there cars underwater? The fish are swimming in there!"

Destiny flashes a bright smile to Carina and a double thumbs up. She has complete faith in her crewmate's ability to pilot a submarine, whether or not she has seen any evidence to support this. As they get underway, her expression fades into something more neutral. She's seen the underwater tomb more than once now, and she gives it the respect she thinks it deserves. Solemn isn't a common look for her, but it's not unheard of.

The way the older version stares out the windows is with open fascination. Odessa has never seen destruction and death captured in quite this way before. There's a certain sort of appreciation she has for it, though it's not to be confused with a love or adoration. What she's seeing is tragedy encapsulated, and that has a weight to it. After several long moments, she tears herself away.

Odessa turns to Elisabeth as Destiny turns to Carina. Simultaneously, they say, "Anything I can do to help, just let me know." Although Destiny's tone is considerably brighter than Odessa's. The two exchange a look, Odessa startled and Destiny amused. That just happened.

For the duration of this leg of the journey, Geneva had been keeping wholly to herself, drifting along behind Remi at a far enough distance where she would not be compelled to talk to anyone. Though she is also bundled up and shivering, this can’t possibly be because she’s cold: for the longest time her clothes have been completely dry, and the girl herself is emitting a low-level but constant aura of warmth all about herself, which does not change as the submarine jolts into life around her. If the descent through the dark ocean she had just floundered in bothers her, she does not show it; she looks emotionally numb enough as it is.

The waif-like teen casts a rather deadened look over at Magnes and Elaine, who are seated not far from her, reaching out to lay a hand atop Magnes’ shoulder— a hand which is still radiating a gentle heat, which may be to comforting to anybody nearby. “…Hey…. you guys doing okay?”

A look is cast over in Kain and then Elisabeth’s direction, as Gene notes the older woman’s discomfort. Then, just a hint of a smile. “It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, as much to herself as to Liz.

If they died, at least it wouldn’t be in the cold.

Silas settles in where he can; it is indeed quite cozy. Warm, too — he suspects Meredith's probably still throwing off some heat. Maybe someone else, too; he spots the woman who'd briefly joined him at the craps table before they'd all been banned from the casino. Before she roasted that asshole, you mean.

She looks to be as bad or worse off than Remi — probably for similar reasons. He offers her a nod, at least… but there are other things to occupy his attention, too. Like that leak. That's… concerning, at the very least. Also annoying, because he can't actually fix it at the moment — he doesn't have the supplies for it, even if he could manage with the few tools he's got.

There's also the fact that their pilot's said there's not enough oxygen to get more than halfway back. That's that, then. Commonwealth or bust.

It's actually strangely liberating; no more worrying about not being able to go back because, well, there really isn't a way back at all anymore. No need to worry about anything at this particular moment, in fact, because there is simply nothing he can do. So he turns his gaze to the window… the view out there is definitely worth taking in. Somber, certainly. Silas is well aware of what's been lost, but actually seeing it is… especially awful.

Asi. Hope you managed to drown some of those Sentinel bastards, so they can enjoy what they've wrought, he thinks, in a rare moment of venom. I've not been doing so hot on my end of it, he thinks a moment later, with a more characteristic wry humor.

And then he starts thinking about singing. Under the sea… under the sea… life is much better, down where it's wetter, take it from me. It's the very blackest of graveyard humor… but what better humor for this sunken graveyard. Maybe the River Styx thought wasn't as far off as he'd thought.

"Oh god," Namiko says as she looks at the leak. "Isa can you— no, that's stupid, we have limited oxygen, scratch that." She stares up at the water, though, like she might figure out a fix somehow. "Why do sponges have to be animals. Couldn't be a plant," she mutters to herself. She lingers near Isa and Shaw, but doesn't sit. Luckily, she's short enough to fit, more or less.

Evie looks over at Aurora, then out at the water. "Because there was a flood. There was no more land to drive to. There's probably dead bodies. They're probably skellies now, because the fish ate them," she says in her spookiest voice.

"Evie," Lynette says, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder, "be nice."

In her silence, Magnes hadn't noticed that Elaine’s been crying this entire time. Her eyes are red, cheeks wet with tears, face flushed. She isn't making a sound, isn't trembling, she's just finally reached a point where all she can do now is cry. The alternative, truly accepting that they're diving down below the ocean in search of a doorway home named after a Lewis Carroll story is too impossible. Addie is gone, they may never find her again. It's been years. The thought has broken her.

Walter doesn't notice, because he's getting up out of his seat and closing in on the front of the sub. “How much further?” He exhales the words, looking back to the cramped passengers. Carina shoots a look over her shoulder, swatting a hand at Walter as though he were a housefly. Walter slinks back, brows raised, and looks at Destiny.

He doesn't go back to his seat, but instead loiters in the cabin behind the pilot and copilot seats with his hands on the ceiling and posture slouched. A few seats behind him, Kain is just breathing into his hands and bobbing his head up and down, mumbling to himself. Maybe it's the confined space?

Outside, the ruins take on a metropolitan quality. Brick buildings covered in algae, collapsed high rises, lines of cars pushed together in heaps like angrily discarded toys. One of the highway signs, barely visible, denotes an offramp exit for Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Walter starts drumming his hands on the ceiling. “How exactly do we get in?” He asks of the pilot. Carina’s answer is succinct but unhelpful.

“Sit the fuck down,” Carina grouses, “we’re here.” That assertion has Walter grimacing and reluctantly slouching back to his seat where his sword has sat, resting up against the middle aisle in its scabbard. As he drops down next to it, the scenery outside the sub shifts to show the ruins of Cambridge, drifting clouds of silt lit up by the external lights.

Carina flips a couple of switches and begins navigating down toward an embankment that looks like it was a riverbed. There's demolished ship parts dashed on rocks, portions of collapsed bridges. She turns the submarine a full one hundred and eighty degrees and then drops straight down, nearly touching the riverbed. Then, driving forward, she's headed for an enormous drainage pipe that must have spilled out into the Charles River.

As the ship negotiates the pipe, there's a loud scrape and clank as the vessel bumps up against the corrugated metal of the pipe walls. Multiple voices rise up in a startled gasp at the abrupt crash, and Carina hisses an apology as she delicately tries to course correct. There's a few more bumps and scrapes, resounding in a dull echo through the submarine hull. Eventually, she picks up the radio receiver.

“Don. Open the door.” Carina’s voice has a sharp edge to it, brows furrowed and lips downturned into a frown. Walter sits forward in his seat, looking at Elisabeth with wide eyes as though she might have an answer. When he finds none, he looks back to the fore of the ship, catching sight of Woods mouthing what the fuck under his breath.

Then, the unexpected.

«This is security chaplain Rosen. Who is this?»

Carina side-eyes Destiny, then clicks the receiver again. “West? It's Carina. Tell Don to open the door.”

«You've got some nerve coming back here, Harrison. You're not coming in.»

“Fuck you, West.” Carina growls into the receiver. “I've got civilians on board who need medical attention and— ”

«Hold on.»

Carina slides her tongue across her teeth, and an awkward silence hangs in the air. A moment later, the radio crackled back to life.

«Is Else with you?»

“Who?” Carina frustratedly barks back. “Oh— what? No. No she's— ”

«Mateo Ruiz?»

Carina’s brows furrow, her expression shifting some, and she turns to look over her shoulder to Elisabeth first, then the others in momentary uncertainty. She sees Elaine, silently crying, sees Aurora and Evie, Kain’s hunched posture. She turns around, sure of herself.

“Open the fucking door or I tell the pirates where you are.” Is Carina’s ultimate decision. There's another moment of silence, followed by a voice over the intercom.

«Exterior doors opening. Enter the airlock»

Carina slouches into her seat as a noisy clang reverberates through the sub, and up ahead an algae-covered metal wall splits down the middle and parts open, revealing that they were foot thick blast doors. Water rushes into the large chamber beyond, and Carina slowly begins to navigate the sub inside.

She doesn't look back to Elisabeth. Or anyone.

"You hear that?" Ling offers to Kain as she leans back a slight bit in her seat. She pats him gently on the back. "Solid ground. Aren't you excited?" Still, what she can hear of the conversation Carina is having puts her more on edge than the trip ever could have. "What do you make of this?" she asks him in a low voice. The tenseness in her voice may be something only recognised by Kain himself, but it's definitely there.

Pulled from her reverie, Remi turns blue eyes toward the front of the submarine as things begin to happen. The clanging and scraping of the underwater vehicle against the walls prompts her to flinch a bit, squeezing Jasper’s hand; he squeezes back in silent reassurance, the two sharing a look for a moment.

Then, the telepath, listening closely to the mind of their pilot, turns her gaze back toward the front, watching with large eyes as the blast doors open. Who would’ve thought something like this would be down here, among the watery grave of civilization? Certainly not the former ship captain, who stares silently at the back of Carina’s head with a mildly concerned expression on her face.

"Ooooh, skellies. Primal!" Aurora's response is darn near as ghoulish as Evie's. Liz is forced to smother a grin at that, trading an amused look with Mateo. Elaine's tears, though, sober her back up quickly and break her heart.

The exchange over the radio brings Elisabeth's eyes around to her mother and they narrow. When she has Carina's gaze, the look between the two of them … well, it's looking like Madam Harrison has some 'splainin' to do. And when her eyes shift back to the rest of the sub's inhabitants, the audiokinetic is clearly concerned. And Ling is sharing her alarm — that woman's sense of danger is practically Spider-sense. West Rosen is a name that rings bells for Liz but she can't place it in context. It's just been too many years.

Remi, as soon as you sense anyone, you scan every mind you can get to as fast and as unobtrusively as possible.

Enclosed as they are, it takes her a little bit of focus to specifically direct her ability where she wants it — but the Bright world was extremely good for certain things when it comes to that. Subvocal but directly into Walter's ear, Liz murmurs, "We don't know who is who down here, but if we run across names you recognize, I need you to get me up to speed on who they were in your world." Her blue eyes hold his gaze. "If shit goes sideways down here and we have to fight, it's going to be tight quarters." But Walter's knowledge may be invaluable.

Already on it, is Remi’s response as she snuggles closer to Jasper. Then, into both Walter and Liz’s minds, Local Telepath Radio here. If you have something that you need Liz to know, think it.

Des had been about to reach for the radio to negotiate when Carina proves she has things well in hand. Much better than the girl ever expected her to, in fact. "Rina…?" She tilts her head and fixes the pilot with a curious look that hides the sudden undercurrent of fear. She isn't sure how she expected to gain access without announcing themselves to Don, but she wasn't expecting to be so blunt about their arrival.

Odessa narrows her eyes as she watches Destiny, recognizing the change in her body language even without hearing her quiet utterance. A shift of her posture allows her to feel the reassuring weight of the sword strapped to her back. Whatever waits for them outside, at least she's not unarmed.

“I don’t like this,” Lance says in low tones to Lucy, briefly swirling a bubble of silence around them, “There’s some kind’ve fuckery going on here and I don’t like it at all.” He’s nervous, and the baby’s picking up on it — his hand going to gently pat her back as she starts to cry in the harness, although at least he can keep it silent.

Doyle, meanwhile, was quietly singing ‘Under the Sea’ in cheerful tones, at least until Meredith swatted him, and he grinned back at her. “You think these people are going to be friendly and cooperative,” he asks the Lighthouse group gathered, “Or are we going to have to force them to help us?”

The question about Else might have raised an eyebrow, but the question about Mateo Ruiz definitely raised them both. Ruiz sits upright and looks back toward the woman speaking, almost as if he intended to get up and announce that, yes, they had Mateo Ruiz with them— but he doesn’t have to because Carina puts out a bluff that he sees worked well enough. And may not have been a bluff.

But this place sounded like somewhere bad anyway. “We’re almost there. Sadly you did not find your squid. Maybe next time,” he whispers to his daughter, patting her hair in that soft way that probably sends crackles of static down her scalp, but he can’t really fix the tension. Instead he tries to give Lynette a reassuring nod, and both Odessa and Destiny as well, really.

Lucy gets a determined look, she may not have been one of the more combat oriented, but she knew where to punch and kick if someone got in their way, and she would do what she needed to do— however… “Do you want me to hold Lene. In case you need to get primal on some guys.” He was better at it than her. And Mala and Denisa just grin at their adopted father and look ready to do whatever they need to. Even if it meant physically holding the hatch open.

Through the entire trip, Cassandra has been silent, retreating into the reverie of her mind, numb to all that’s happening. A part of her is still observing and listening, but externally she’s simply shut down, sitting there, silent, barely moving much more than breathing, watching the remains of the old world pass by outside the porthole seat where she had claimed a spot. The notice of a leak - a leak directly above her, it turns out - had her simply moving seats, settling into the bench next to Kain and Aurora about midships, reaching out from beneath her wrap to take the little girl’s gloved hand in hers, squeezing it tight, reassuringly.

She does jump at the contact of the sub against the corrugated side of the pipe, eyes going wide at the scraping sound, but relaxes when it becomes evident that Carina has either done this before or is extremely lucky when she decides to explore the depths of a drowned city. Remi’s French-accented echo bounces into her head and Cassandra sighs softly, lowering her head. “When we get to where we’re going, Aurora, I’m going to make you Bengets like I used to back in New York. Like we did on Saturday mornings.” She looks to Remi, to Elisabeth, to Kain, and then scans over the rest of the group here in the submarine before retreating into herself again.

Hope in the future is all she has to cling to now. Cold feet have well and truly set in, but thanks to Geneva, Meredith, and their welcome heat migrating through the cabin, now that Cassandra’s moved closer to the group, at least she’s not chilled to the bone anymore.

There's a moment where Elisabeth's eyes skim from person to person in the passenger compartment, meeting the gaze of all of them following a long moment of fast-paced telepathic conversation most are not privy to.

Suddenly, Remi’s voice echoes into the minds of all adults aboard (except Carina): Whatever happens when we dock, stick together. Do not let them separate us completely. Assume that we are going into hostile territory. When Liz and Magnes find the ones we need, we will make our egress plan.

When Cassandra reaches out, Geneva is at first surprised— but she does not shy away from the gesture, taking the other woman’s hand in her own as the gentlest waves of warmth continue to slough off her body in all directions. Any source of comfort is welcome at the moment even from strangers, in this strange situation that might potentially turn into a watery grave.

By now she is used to Remi’s telepathy from sailing aboard the Sayonara, and hearing it now also serves to put her slightly more at ease. Consciously she looks towards Remi’s direction as this happens, ready to stick together with her remaining crewmatesMagnes, Elaine, Remi, Jasper through whatever comes next.

The metallic clang, and the sound of water pouring forth from somewhere up ahead, catches her a little off guard. I’m right behind you, captain, is the thought that determinedly sticks in her head.

"It's difficult, we've been at this for seven years, our daughter's been gone for a while. I think it's difficult to keep up hope sometimes, no matter how close we are to it." Magnes wraps an arm around Elaine now, ignoring his gravity issue. "But I have hope, we're gonna get through this, I won't let anything stop us."

"I guess this is where my father worked in my world, I'm not sure." he considers, but then the exchange with Carina happens, and he raises an eyebrow. "West Rosen? Like, Claire's old boyfriend?" he wonders, because, well.

He remembers, or at least used to remember, the ex boyfriends of people he dated.

Why?

Because one has to constantly compare oneself and unhealthily self-depreciate, and these things happen when you dated a girl whose entire life was captured in a comic book you own.

Don't worry, he's better now. "Why is Claire's old boyfriend here?"

What Silas can hear of the conversation up front is definitely interesting, if not exactly good for the nerves. Jamming your foot in the door and fast-talking past the doorman… heh. Well-played, he thinks; that particular play is one that's got a well-worn page in Silas's book of shady tricks. But the hard part isn't the doorman—it's when you get to the boss, and you've gotta talk fast enough to get back out without a shiny new bullet in your head.

Remi's sudden mental broadcast draws a grim smile. That bad, huh… well, fair enough. Gotcha loud and clear, Sunshine. Keep me posted if you spot an opening for my talents.

Huddled up against Magnes, Elaine closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath, then nods and presses her face against his chest and tries to drown out the thoughts running through her mind. All she can hear is Addie’s laugh in the back of her mind. She closes her eyes tighter.

It takes nearly fifteen minutes for the airlock to seal and drain of water, and even then looking out the windows it doesn't appear complete. There's a foot of standing water at the bottom of the airlock. The submarine has radially come down to rest on the floor of the chamber, just barely fitting inside the room and needing to sit at a slightly skewed angle. Thankfully, the runners along the bottom of the sub keep it sitting at a level angle rather than pitching as a boat might.

Woods walks over to the ladder, climbing up to unfasten the hatch and shimmy out onto the roof. “It's fuckin’ tight up here. I'm gonna’ go down to the side and help people down. It wasn't bloody-well made to climb out of like this. Everything’s slippery, watch yer footing.”

The moment the hatch is opened, Kain exhales a sharp breath and pushes past everyone to get to the base of the ladder. Hands shaking, ashen pale, sweating, he's barely said one word since being sealed inside. Kain scrambles up the ladder without a single ounce of pride or dignity, slipping as he does. Once he exits the hatch he takes loud, gulping gasps of air and squeak-scrambles down the side of the sub and lands with a splash in the shallow water.

Carina just turns around in her seat, glancing at Destiny and making a youth before beauty gesture toward the ladder. Through the crowd she eyes Elisabeth, then, fixes her gaze on the floor instead. Behind Carina, out the front windows of the sub, the interior doors of the airlock are still sealed, with no real sign of exit yet made.

Unlike some of the others, Remi isn’t clamoring to get out. Already seated in the back of the sub, she is slow to pull herself out of her seat, and in fact sends Jasper ahead of her — she seems pretty content to be one of the last ones out. Blue eyes frequently find their way toward that front window, and the still-closed doors — she’s not quite convinced of the safety of all of this.

She really doesn’t like the fact that she’s not sensing any other minds yet — judging by the way the radio conversation went, and the worry that she’s detecting from Carina, one would assume that there would be a lot of minds on the other side of those doors, or at least more than none.

So, filled with apprehension, the former Hollywood starlet takes her sweet time getting out of the submarine.

Lynette makes no indication of having heard the mental broadcast, like she might be well practiced at resisting an outward reaction. But in truth, it's the opposite, and the message is lost among the noise that comes with her husband's ability. So when it's time to climb out, she picks Evie up— a precaution against the girl running toward the exit— and starts her toward the ladder. Her other hand reaches for Ruiz, unwillingly to let them become separated even by a few people.

Once they get out, Evie jumps into the water lingering on the floor of the airlock, sending a small splash outward. Lynette takes the brunt of it, but her only reaction is to put her hand on Evie's shoulders and direct her away from the sub so there is room for others.

Like maybe Evie has jumped into every puddle she has ever seen.

Namiko scrambles out when it's her turn, nearly slipping on the wet metal. But she makes it out, her eyes flicking toward the doors they came in. The bottom of the ocean is on the other side of that door, after all. They aren't safe. But when she glances toward Kain, she thinks better of voicing that observation. Instead, she holds her hand out and a small lavender plant grows in her palm. Roots search for soil, but find none— but it doesn't seem to hinder the plant growing in a sort of odd, time-elapsed manner. Once it blossoms, she holds it out to Kain.

"Smell this. It'll help. It's a calming thing," she says, shrugging her shoulders like she's too cool to know that, despite obviously knowing it.

Going up the ladder in quick bounds, Mala stays behind at the edge to help anyone who needs an extra boost out, after all her super strength is still working thanks in part to the sheer relief at having docked that some people are feeling. Herself included. While most people are tense, due to things being communicated without spoken words, there is still that relief.

As for Ruiz, he follows after his wife, but is certainly wary of most everything that’s going on. Telepathy isn’t exactly unknown to him, but he didn’t really know the voice and it’s putting him on edge as much as the words. Did anyone ever think this was going to be an ‘get in and get out’ kind of thing? Had they not seen Else? Then again, most of them had not. That lady had lost a few keys on her keyboard. Or not half the keyboard.

Once they were above, though, he stretched his legs and arms and moved to get out of the way so others could join, grinning a little at the sight of poor Lynette being the latest victim of Evie’s inability to stay out of a mess. At least it wasn’t muddy.

The angle that the sub is sitting at on the floor of the airlock gives a slight tilt to the entire thing. Unable to use external clues, Cassandra has the feeling that gravity isn’t working exactly the way it should as she gets to her feet. Still, she’s thankful for her backpack, her waterproof boots, and her little flashlight which quickly is brought to bear with a few shakes before she pokes her head out of the sub’s hatch, shining the light around to reveal ankle-deep water and algae-slicked walls. “Well, this is a cheerful welcome.” she says as the light disappears into the gloom. With a shiver, Cassandra heads back into the sub and pauses near her spot by Kain and Aurora, keeping her light on, and trying not to think of the person on the other side of the airlock. On the person deciding to flood the place as a security measure, or to not let them out, or to take them one-at-a-time to an uncertain fate.

Gathering her backpack, with a visible amount of trepidation, up the ladder she goes. She pauses at the top before clambering down into the water with the rest of the group.

Elisabeth waits until a number of people have gone ahead and climbed out, holding Aurora with her if only to keep her from bombarding Unca Kain with her boundless enthusiasm. Even she, however, is picking up the wariness in the adults around her. She holds Liz's hand tightly until it's time to climb up.

As she helps steady the little girl from below, she also shoots a small smile upward at the young woman helping people at the top. And she releases Aurora once Mala has her and is turning her over to Cassandra on the outside until Elisabeth can join.

The audiokinetic pauses and fixes Carina with a long look. It's a look not from daughter to mother — the sense of deference to her mother's feelings is missing. Instead it's the look of a woman well used to fighting every step of the way given to Carina. A determined look that says we are going to have a conversation and Elisabeth is not taking no for an answer. Then she climbs wordlessly out of the sub, joining her daughter on the ground.

The stage whisper from Aurora echoes in the airlock chamber. "Mummy, Unca Kain's still makin' sick face," she whispers loudly. "Do they have chicken soups here? Unca Lee said chicken soups always makes the tummy sicks better. Do peoples who live underwater have chicken soups?"

Liz's soft reply is simply, "I guess we'll have to find out, pixie."

Looking up to Namiko, Kain stares at her for a moment in unblinking confusion. He doesn’t understand why she cares or that she’s trying to help, not right away. But then, expression softening, Kain reaches out and takes the small blossom delicately in one and and brings it to his nose, breathing in slowly with his eyes closed. Incredulity shifts to embarrassment at his own thoughts, and first Kain looks aside, then, lowering the flower from his nose squares his attention on Namiko. “Thanks, Sprout.”

She’d earned a nickname.

Sword in hand, Walter makes his way out of the submarine and drops down onto the watery floor, looking to Elisabeth and the others with a wary stare. “Fuck this is… uncanny,” he whispers, looking at the airlock with a slow shake of his head. “We came through here,” he says, turning to Elisabeth and Magnes, “when we hit the Ark on November 8th. Lene blew a hole through the wall beside this door, we’ve gotta be parallel to the reactor level.”

Approaching the interior-facing blast doors, Walter keeps a firm hand on his sheathed sword, looking up at the dome cameras facing the airlock and the survivors climbing out. “Jesus Christ…” he whispers, looking back behind himself to the doors that led to the sewer entrance, “that’s where— ” Walter stops, looks at Doyle, then looks back to the interior blast doors with a worried expression. “Don’t whyme,” he whispers.

I watched Doyle die here, Remi hears reverberate in the back of her mind, memories of panicked screams and gunfire accompanying the internal voice. Curiously, she hears nothing from beyond the door. She’d figure there’d be someone there, security or…

Carina makes her way out of the submarine, helped down into the shallow water by Woods. Angrily flicking a look up to the glass domed security cameras on either side of the door, she strides past Magnes and Elaine and shouts up at the concealed lenses. “Open the goddamn door Donald. I know you’re in there!”

Woods looks to Destiny, lips parted in a confused “o” and head slowly shaking. But when those blast doors rumble to life, Woods startles. Walter reaches down to put a hand on the grip of his sword, and Carina takes a few cautious steps backward. Kain tucks the flower Namiko have him into the front pocket of his shirt, stepping in front of the girl as he withdraws his handgun from the waistband of his pants.

The fifteen foot tall blast doors, streaked with rust and flecked with mold, slide to the side to reveal a larger and more spacious chamber beyond. It looks like a loading dock, with high catwalks and concrete ramps. The water from the airlock floods into the chamber, draining away to reveal rail tracks in the floor of both the airlock and the room beyond where a crowd of people stand waiting.

On the other side of the blast doors a half dozen figures in unmarked police riot gear stand at the ready, plastic visors down, assault rifles held at ease against their chests, mercifully not aimed into the airlock. Between the flank of guards stands a group of rough-looking and grizzled survivors. “Well I'll be damned,” the man in the center speaks up, taking a few steps forward. He is bearded and tall, knit cap resting atop his head, dressed in a fur-trimmed winter parka. They're all dressed against the cold. Environmental controls might not function down here anymore.

Remi should be able to hear his thoughts at this distance, hear all of them. They shouldn't have been able to sneak up so easily. But she still can't hear them, can't even feel the presence of their minds. It's as though they didn't have any. But among the crowd, a man standing in the crowd is the answer, even if Remi doesn't realize. The tall, blonde man in the long wool coat and red scarf is a man she never thought she'd see again. A man close to her heart, who now stares at the Travelers with suspicion and scrutiny.

Norton Trask.

The presence of a powerful negator sends a pang of warning into the back of Elisabeth’s mind, but worse is the dawning realization that the Trask of this world has honed his power far greater than he ever had in her time. His power unfolds through the airlock like a change in air pressure, rapidly cutting off each and every Evolved person from their ability. Remi feels her telepathy cut off in the same moment Magnes feels the crushing weight of normal gravity settle into his bones. Elisabeth’s sonic attenuation dims, then silences completely, and Lynette can no longer hear the roar of El Umbral in the back of her mind, nor can Mateo feel the electricity in the walls. It spreads past them, suffocating the abilities of everyone to the last.

“Here I thought it was all a story, but there you are.” The bearded man says as he approaches, holding out his open hands in greeting. “Travelers, you've sure come a long way to get here. I'm Donald Kenner…” the weary, bearded man says with a smile, “welcome to my Ark, I've been waiting for you.”

Silas disembarks along with the others, taking in their new surroundings with a frown. He's considering making a remark about how cozy it is, when, abruptly, the doors start to grind open.

Their first sight of the people of the Commonwealth isn't a hundred percent inspiring; at least the goon squad aren't pointing their guns at them. Before he can really think about it much more than that, though… he feels something settle over him. Up until that moment he'd never really thought about it, but his little trick carries with it a certain… awareness. Being able to smother the ability of other minds to recognize what they see requires the ability to notice that spark of recognition first, and it's that nebulous mental perception that falters and dies in the back of his mind, leaving him feeling dull and weary and alone.

Silas doesn't say anything. Not that he's been at his most talkative for this trip — most everyone around him for the duration have either been lost travellers apparently from other dimensions, or have suffered horrifying trauma in the past few hours (or both!); there's really not been a lot to be said. He does, however, seem to grow a little more haggard, a little more weary.

He isn't even able to muster a joke about Donald's Ark; he probably wouldn't have said it anyway, but not even being able to pull one out of the ether is just… even more depressing. He lets what he's feeling show — looking haggard and worn probably isn't a bad thing in this situation.

The doors open and immediately Odessa lifts a hand out in front of her, prepared to make a move. Instead, she staggers as though something physically struck her square in the chest. Like she reached out with her ability and something pushed back. She presses that hand to her sternum and flashes a look to Walter as if to ask if he felt it, too. Her breath comes in a sharp gasp and stays quick and shallow. It pushed back, and then robbed her. The last time she felt so powerless was…

So, it's like this, then.

Destiny reaches over and grabs Woods' hand, eyes wide as saucers when Don announces he's been waiting for them. It's as much for her own reassurance as his. Maybe if she just holds on to him, everything will turn out okay. They seem to have had luck so far in their seafaring careers. Hopefully it holds now.

"Nice of you to roll out the welcome wagon for us," the girl says with a little more boldness than she feels. The way she clutches her guardian's hand just a little tighter betrays that.

Milling about with the rest of the people near the submarine, Cassandra’s light shines towards the door as rust-pitted hydraulics shriek into life. She puts herself physically between Aurora and whatever else might be coming through that door, barely relaxing when a hail of gunfire doesn’t greet them. The sight of riot-gear-clad people isn’t exactly welcoming, but at least the guns aren’t pointed their direction. The oppression of her ability, though…that’s a new one. Her eyes go wide as she looks to the others, wondering for a second if it’s just her or if everyone feels it. Judging from the reactions, it’s not just her.

“Waiting for us?” she asks Donald out loud, shrinking back a little when she suddenly realizes her internal voice just went external and didn’t speak in her head like she was originally planning. “I….” She swallows nervously. “Hope the stories you’ve heard were good ones.”

Following as closely behind Remi as possible, Geneva is jarred once she reaches the open doors by a sensation she had not felt in a reasonably long time — cold. The aura of relatively modest warmth emanating from the slim girl abruptly stops, as though all of it had been sucked into a void… and try as she may, she cannot start it up again. She flexes her hands, which are rapidly numbing with the strange sensation of not being able to produce heat.

Instinctively, she reaches out to place a hand on Remi’s upper arm, as though to steady herself. (Also, she has no intention of losing her former captain in the mass of people here.) From the looks on the faces of the others, she is not alone in reacting the way she does. Something is actively blocking her ability.

Newly weary, and wary, her eyes flit to the face of the man who had welcomed them, and the squad standing behind him. “…What is all this?”

Guys, I don’t like this, it’s too— And then, as Jasper is helping Remi down from the submarine, she is suddenly cast into silence. She’s never actually been negated — there’s always been that little buzz in the back of her head, even when she’s alone or actively trying to repress her ability. She’s always at least heard whispers, for the past fifteen years — nearly half of her life.

The silence is deafening.

The knot between the former starlet’s shoulders suddenly winds so much tighter, her posture becoming stiff as a sudden wave of panic washes over her. She suddenly begins to sign frantically to Jasper, eyes widening, until the man wraps his arms around her and crushes her to his chest, frowning at the welcoming party.

From her spot against Jasper, Remi stares with wide eyes at said welcoming party, her breathing becoming a bit frantic as she grapples with the loss of her ability, desperately reaching for a muscle that has suddenly become numb and unusable. She can’t really talk right now — she’ll be with you in a moment. Geneva’s hand on her arm is all but unnoticed in her current state.

Sprout gets an eyeroll from Namiko, but it does little to hide the way the corner of her mouth turns up into a smile. She'll take it. When the doors open, she jumps and is more than happy to hide behind Kain. Especially as her access to her power is cut off.

When Lynette is folded into the field of negation, she lets out a long, relieved sigh. She hasn't had a moment's peace since they left her homeworld. All of a sudden, she can picture full nights' sleep and peaceful dreams.

A beat later, it occurs to her that everyone else is negated, too.

Her gaze flicks to Odessa Woods.

"Mamí?" Evie says, tugging on her mom's sleeve. Lynette turns back to her daughter, picking her up to cling onto her. She banishes darker thoughts by running her hand over Evie's hair.

There’s a brief rustling in the back as Darlene is passed over to Lucy, with Lance leaning in close to rest brow to brow with the latter for a moment. “If things go real bad,” he murmurs, “You two get out of here. Try to teleport somewhere, I don’t know, just… somewhere else.” No argument accepted as he moves forward, his steps slowing as that stillness seems to hit, as he notices so many odd reactions around him, tensing up himself.

He remains silent, as he oft does, but a hand slips to the handle of one of his knives.

“Someone tell you we were coming,” asks Doyle, a frown creasing his lips and brow as he moves a half-step to one side, a suspicious look shot in the direction of Carina and Woods before he looks back to the men in the airlock, “That’s a lot of, a lot of guns for a friendly greeting.”

He reaches out without moving, and… nothing. As he realizes he’s negated, the smile doesn’t fade from his lips but a single bead of sweat trickles down the back of his neck.

Walter's words as she hits the ground alarm Elisabeth visibly. So many things the same, so many different. And then the door opens and there's a lotta people with fucking weapons. It's not a good thing. Are they all going to be gunned down in this trench and complete that circle?

You'd think with how much it's happened in the past decade Elisabeth would not flinch when negation hits. Or maybe the flinch has more to do with the man causing the negation. Laying eyes on Norton Trask is something of a body blow for the dimensionally challenged audiokinetic. There's no time to warn anyone, even Remi — his powers clearly don't work the same way because at home proximity was a factor. His range is bigger here. With her blue eyes glued to the negator for a long moment, her only physical reaction is a tightening of her hand on Aurora's while the world takes on the strange two-dimensional feeling that comes with her lack of ability. Her depth perception is always a little off when it happens, although how much of that is all in her head is another matter entirely.

It's bare moments, though, and her training kicks in. Aurora is slipped behind her, the little girl instantly passed toward Cassandra while Elisabeth takes a guarded stance in front of both, keeping herself and Walter as close as possible without hindering his line of sight. Her gaze flickers from one person to the next in the 'greeting party' as she assessed their chances of beating a fast retreat — a forward assault seems even more doomed than that idea.

"Mummy?" Aurora echoes the same query, now having retreated into the wary watchfulness she learned in the Wasteland. Unca Kain and Cassie made sure she knew what to do if things went badly. The little girl sidles behind Cassandra holding tight to the back of her coat and makes ready to dive into the nearest hidey hole and get TINY.

A glance flickers to those in their party not automatically taking the roles of child-guardian, the ones Elisabeth knows are going to fight. Magnes, potentially Mateo, definitely Kain, Lance, herself, Odessa, Ling. She doesn't know some of the others very well, so she's not sure of their reactions, but she can get the feel for them. None of them is so stupid as to take on a riot squad… right? She gives at least a couple of them subtle 'no' headshakes, if only to encourage them not to antagonize the better-armed team with a physical fight (if they're looking likely to say to hell with it and go anyway — Izzy, dammit, I'm looking at you!!). Very wary blue eyes rest on Don and wait for him to make his foray. Everyone else has asked enough questions.

“This is just a precaution,” Donald says of the armed guards, “my security chief insisted. But the boys and girls of the Ark security force, they’re…” whatever Don was going to say does when his eyes settle on Lance. There's a moment of awkward stillness, and then he presses past it with a newfound tension in his voice. “You're our welcomed guests.”

The armed guards start to part and move aside to stop blocking the entrance, and Don takes another step forward. “We had the luxury of having precognitives like Else Kjelstom here. I… collect seers, it seems. I've been forewarned about your coming for a while. In fact, we've prepared a little banquet in all of your honors. Rooms are set aside, whatever you need.”

Don’s smile is a broad one, his posturing bordering on megalomaniacal. “But I do insist. Come to dinner. All of you.”

Miles continues along with the group, looking a lot calmer and more nonchalant than he feels. But now that no one in the group can tell how he feels, does it matter? He keeps his hands in his pockets as he looks around, whether just in curiosity or to determine an exit plan. Good luck with the last one, though.

He’s mostly quiet as they’re addressed by…well, whoever it is, he doesn’t know. He can’t resist, though, after those last words from Don, nudging Namiko and murmuring very quietly, “To Serve Man — it’s a cookbook!”

Hopefully quietly enough that only she can hear.

With some breathing guided by Jasper, Remi slowly gets a grip over this new development, clasping hands with the man and pressing her face against his chest as she takes deep, slow breaths. She even manages to grasp a good amount of what Donald says, turning blue eyes to stare at him.

She doesn’t trust anyone who has to negate their guests. Normally an understandable security measure, but if this fellow’s story is true — there’s really no need for negation. The telepath glances about at those she’s come with, before frowning up at the welcoming party. She quietly signs to Jasper again, before pulling away, reaching ll.one arm to wrap around Geneva’s shoulders.

“We’ll be okay, mon ami,” she murmurs to the other survivor of her crew, though the wobble in her tone betrays the fact that she doesn’t believe that statement for a second. She still has the knife in her boots, and another strapped to her inseam beneath her clothing, and she somehow hung on to the flare gun with the last flare in it — so if they get caught in a fight, she can at least make someone hurt for it.

The silence is still hard for the telepath to handle; especially now. Left alone with her thoughts, her mind is going to dark places, turning to face the deaths of her boat and crew just hours before.

Namiko's laugh is a little too sudden, a little too loud. Half because it was funny, half because she's nervous. She grabs onto Miles' sleeve, whispering in return. "If they are eating meat, I'm gonna freak out."

Because how else would they get any down here?

When Remi wraps one arm about her shoulders, Geneva responds by tightly gripping onto the hand that is closest to her face: partly an attempt to allay the panicked feeling of her newly icy hands in any way that is possible. “Yes— of course we’ll be okay,” she soothes in a tone that is far, far calmer than she is feeling. Based on descriptions Remi had given her in the past, she can aim a guess what the telepath is feeling. The terror of hearing no thoughts at all.

The blonde chances a look upwards and forwards at Donald; it is more than a little suspicious, but her voice is (mostly) as civil and cool as it normally is.

“Say we accept the offer for dinner, then. Then what do you plan for us?”

"Pretending that you've given anyone here a choice is pretty fucked up Donny Boy." Isabelle slides out from the group to stand next to Namiko while wearily eyeing Miles, it would be helpful if he had his ability. (Is she really thinking that?) The biting cold that attacks Isabelle as she is negated makes her mood… not so good.

"Listen. Everyone in this room? You see right now? We're tired and if one more of our family is hurt or loss because of some utter bullshit… so help me.." she doesn't like the way he's looking at the silent boy, Lance. Isabelle tightens her fist, raid gear? Sure. Negation, you betcha. Pretending that everything is fine when you've been through hell and back and now you're standing next to a fucking teleporter. "If you've got those batshit crazy lunatics you call precognitives around then you know the what and the why of why we're here." Raising an eyebrow the pyrokinetic looks to Liz and Magnes: If you don't get him.

Ling's eyes shift over to Isabelle at her proclamation, rolling her eyes. "She's going to get us killed," she mutters under her breath, looking over to Kain, and then to Elisabeth. She closes her eyes, and- nothing happens. An attempt to slip into smoke, to disappear into a vent and listen in goes nowhere, and she grits her teeth. Being negated is a feeling she'd almost forgotten, considering how rarely back in the Hub she allowed herself to be negated. It's just as uncomfortable now as it was when they arrived in the ruins of New York in their last transdimensional stop.

Having that feeling back now is unwelcome to say the least, and from her way her posture suddenly straightens, the tenseness she feels is clear. Still, she doesn't reach for the knife strapped to her leg or offer a sarcastic rebuttal. For once, Ling Chao knows when it's best to keep her damn mouth shut and play wait and see.

When Aurora is passed back, Cassandra moves into protector mode. She may not have a gun or anything like that, but dammit, she can keep a little girl out of the line of fire, at least. She curls around Aurora and stays right where she is, her back to the crowd, keeping the little girl close. The familiar voice that's talking causes Cassandra to frown. She calls out. "Hey, from us in the peanut gallery, it might be a good idea to, y'know, not poke the bear with a short stick."

Magnes knows the particular feeling of Trask's ability, though the last time he felt it was from Kazimir's use of it. A part of him is about to try to back out of its range, but it quickly becomes apparent that such a move isn't possible.

He doesn't speak, he doesn't know Don, he doesn't know Trask, and the only thing he could really say regarding himself and the ARK doesn't even apply to this universe. So all he can do is shift Elaine behind him, look to Elisabeth, then focus his piercing gaze on Don as he runs this scenario through his head and tries to figure out how the hell they're going to survive this.

The ARK is a one way trip could be taken in so many ways, but surely Edward Ray wouldn't have said that with fatalistic intentions.

Then again, this is the part of the prediction that happens after Kaylee is already safe…

Though, perhaps it means something that their Cardinal gets their Elisabeth back. It's all he can really do right now, think of the ways in which Edward's predictions could be a think of hope or a thing that nails the hammer into their coffin.

Don pauses when Isabelle flies off the handle, giving her an impressed look and clapping his hands together. “You’re just as incendiary as I remember,” he indicates with a motion of one hand. “Don’t worry Miss Ashford, far be it from me to try and pull something on a woman who burns children alive in cages. I mean— that’s intense.”

The verbal provocation from Don elicits a sharp look from Carina, then over to Isabelle with a horrified expression that quickly turns to Elisabeth, then down to the floor. West eyes Don as well, then glances at Isabelle and Shaw, then over to Miles. He’s scanning the crowd now.

“As for your question, Ms. Stevenson,” Don motions to Geneva, “we have dinner. Then, we’ll set you up with some quarters, a comfortable bed and— I’d offer heat, but we don’t have any environmental controls down here, I’m afraid. Plenty of extra blankets, though. Plenty.”

Then, as if an off-handed statement, Don adds, “I know why you’re here. But unfortunately, you won’t find what you’re looking for. Michelle Cardinal died, tragically, several months ago.” Don glances back to Elisabeth and Magnes, expression inscrutable, then motions for the group to follow as he starts to walk.

Everything seems to go very still for a long moment, even though that's not possible without the aid of her ability. The news that's been delivered has stunned her so. Then, she snaps. "No!" Destiny shrieks, dropping Woods' hand and pushing her way through their gathered group and rushing toward Don. "You b- bastard!"

“Destiny, n—” A crack cuts Woods off as one of the security personnel smashes a rifle butt against the back of Destiny’s head, sending the tiny blonde collapsing to the ground. The other security officers all raise their rifles and train them on the group, clicks and clacks echoing in the room. Don raises a hand, watching as West stares down Carina along the iron sights of his assault rifle.

Even as the weapons come up, Elisabeth is in motion for her own people to stand between them and the riot squad. "STAND DOWN" whip-cracks across the travelers as rifles come up, and the blonde has one hand out to the weapons-wielders when Don speaks.

“Woah now. Easy there.” Don says softly, “let’s not get hasty. Now, was that the last outburst, can we have dinner like civilized fucking people? Or do we need to get uncivilized?”

"There was no need for that level of response, Director Kenner," Liz points out quietly. "She was unarmed and clearly distraught. I'm reasonably sure your stout form could have held off any actual injury." Destiny is teeny. Blue eyes flick between Don and the girl on the floor, her tone arctic. "By all means, do let's get civilized. Can Woods get her up, or is that too much like a threat for you?"

When Destiny is abruptly assaulted, Ling's hand moves down to her waist, to one of those two knives she keeps on her. She's the person who brings a knife to a gun fight, but even without her ability she's ready for something in case this escalates, eyes fixed and narrowed first on West, and then on Don. Even with Liz's command, she stands on tense edge.

The colour drains from Geneva’s face as she sees Destiny go down, and the points of the rifles go up directly at their group. She grips onto Remi’s hand even more tightly, if that is possible; she had already been clearly unnerved by the fact that this man had known her name. “I’m sure there’s no need for this,” she murmurs quietly, only her rigidly held gaze betraying the tension that she feels. “We already… don’t have our abilities.”

And on that note, she adds in a slightly drier comment: “You know that some of us could provide heat, right? It’d take away the need for extra blankets.”

As Destiny goes down, Ruiz leaves his wife side, where he might have been half hidden by all the people and goes over to where she’s collapsed kneeling down beside her protectively. He trusts that Lynette will keep a hold of their daughter. He’s not carrying a weapon, he’s not even sparking anymore, but he doesn’t care that there’s rifles raised, because he knows that Lynette will put herself between Evie and them in an instant. He ignores those pointing the guns because there’s nothing he can do about them right now.

But he can check on Destiny and make sure she’s all right.

“Stop, dammit stop!” Cassandra calls from the middle of the group somewhere. Aurora is pushed behind the submarine, out of the way so, if the seer is shot down, at least Aurora will be out of the path of bullets. Someone has to say something, though. “Let’s all just calm the hell down! There are children here!” She rises to her feet, looking to Don, then the rest of the men with guns, biting her lower lip to keep from throwing up at the sight of Destiny on the ground and the thought of standing up to men with guns like she is. “Look…” her voice is quiet. “You’re in control here. You’ve got the guns and, apparently, the will to use them. You’ve also got seers, so you know what’s going to happen. We don’t. Just…” She looks around. “Look, I don’t know you at all. I don’t know what you can do and I really don’t want to find out. Just bask in the power you have right now and show a little humanity. Let us at least stand on dry ground for a little while before anything else happens. We’ve had an interesting few days.”

Silas edges his way towards the front of the group; the way things are going right now, it seems like the more voices there are speaking up in favor of smoothing things over the better.

"Well," he says, smiling pleasantly. "I, for one, am definitely in favor of keeping things civilized. I mean, h" he cuts himself off, grimacing; children, after all. Even if they've probably heard worse. "heck, someone fixes a banquet to welcome you into their house, seems rude not to hear em out. Am I right?" he asks. He isn't actually too keen about any of this, but right now it looks a lot like the choices on the table are either going with the flow and trying to navigate as best they can, or fighting and getting washed away. Possibly literally.

There's not a blink from the pyrokinetic, "Wesley. Isabelle Wesley." Don't know as much as you think hm? The brunette grins darkly across to Don. "Oh Donny if you thought that was intense. You should see what I did to my mother." And then the tiniest blonde time manipulator that could rushes forward and Isabelle watches as she's taken down and Ruiz runs forward to check on her.

Weighing her options, the woman growls and looks back at Namiko and Shaw. "Stop knocking us around like piñatas." Michelle being dead, seems like a lie but that's moreso because she doesn't want to have to see the look on Richard's face, she knows how that feels to lose your mother. Dark thoughts cloud the woman's head and she bows her head to consider herself, why did she say that?

"That's enough," Lynette says, with Evie standing behind her. "Isabelle, that's enough." It's easy to tell that she is tired, maybe too tired to fight. Especially since the woman they came here for is dead. "Mister Kenner. Can we get the children somewhere dry, please? We'll go to whatever dinner you like, but the girls need to get out of this water." She resists a glance toward Destiny, although she is definitely included. "And into something dry."

So does she, considering that it only seems to be getting colder with their pyrokinetics powered down, and the others but her concern is focused on the kids. "We'll come without anymore trouble. No one wants a fight." She looks at Isa there. Her eyebrow lifts, but her expression is a pleading one.

“Destiny!” It’s Doyle that shouts out her name as she’s struck down, and he steps forward one heavy foot — his fingers splaying out, then clenching into a fist, jaw tightening in a grimace of anger and frustration, skin turning reddish in temper. Slowly he steps to her side, eying the guns, keeping his hands in view until he’s beside her and Mateo. He crouches a bit, muttering, “She alright, Ruiz?”

It’s probably a good thing that Remi’s telepathy is negated right now.

Lance steps slightly back to fade into the crowd of people more, a hand sliding one of his knives to a better-hidden place under his shirt, at the small of his back. Just in case someone disarms them.

If Michelle is dead, Magnes has to consider alternatives, he has to consider what Edward Ray could have been wrong about, what it meant for him to be confused. As he protectively moves to try and shield Elaine from having to focus on all of this chaos, his mind is still going.

Maybe the answer is finding the other Edward Ray, the one that isn't himself somehow. Maybe the answer is… something else. There has to be some answer.

The impact sends Des sprawling and motionless on the floor for several long moments. When she finally stirs, it's with a miserable whine. She's going to have a lump on the back of her head the size of the state she was born in. With the aid of her brother and her friend, she manages to roll over on her back. Tears have welled up in her eyes, shed with a blink to roll down her cheeks. "I want Mom and Dad," she whimpers, dazed from the blow.

In the gathered crowd, Odessa watches seemingly impassively. She makes no move to defend or attack, but steps closer to her sister-in-law and her niece, prepared to do what's necessary to keep them safe if it comes to it.

It seems, so long as there aren't more impulsive teenagers to make irrational moves, it won't.

Bubbling laughter briefly escapes Don as he claps his hands together. “Alright, Alright. Everyone calm down.” He motions to the guard that struck Destiny, waving him back. “My boys are a little jumpy. We've had a rough patch these last few months, Michelle had some sycophants in the Ark who tried to destroy the whole damn place. But I think the violent ones are all dead and the others…” he eyes Destiny, “well, they fell in line.”

“You all really are something though, aren't you?” Don shakes his head as he smiles, creases from age and weathering under an unforgiving sun making him seem so old and frail. “You're right about the water, though. Here, allow me.”

Raising his hands, Don, in spite of being inside the negation field generated by Trask, seems to manipulate the water, not only parting it around the travelers and pushing it to the walls, but sucking the moisture out of wet clothes. Particles of water drift through the air, condensing into the walls as heavy beads that roll up toward the ceiling.

Don slowly clasps his hands together, brows raised. “Alright. Now…” he scans the crowd, noticing Elaine clinging to Magnes and hiding her face against his chest, a trembling wreck in her present emotional state after all of the day's fighting and emotional cost.

“Who’s hungry?”

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