=> [MINI META LOC] Hideaway Hive

[Hivestuck]

The Alternian Moons were already dipping back down in the starry sky by the time you and your teammates reached the location of the final entry scrawled in the sopor slime logbook that was now in your possession. By process of elimination you had ruled out the half dozen or so other entries made on the date of Qinlon's sighting, your group had painstakingly visited and inspected each delivery point yourselves to no avail. At the coordinates you were now tracking, you see nothing but stretching desert. Your investigation seemed like it was running dry, as you didn't have more than a few hours before sunrise.

That was, until one of your team mates stumbled across what seemed to be a rather cleverly concealed hive. You might have moved on without ever noticing it if the unfortunate troll hadn't tripped on the edge of a pipeline that was barely protruding from the desert sands. Your team decides to follow the line, which leads you directly to the hideout's entrance, disguised as a slab of cracked stone to the inattentive eye.

One of your team members is confident that they hear sounds from below. Knocking on the door, you realize it indeed sounded hollow. There is no response.


What is your course of action?

a. Your team tries knocking again. Maybe the tenant didn't hear or something.

b. They obviously don't want to answer. Time for you guys to break in!



___________________


HOW TO PLAY

There are no rolls to be made in this thread. It is treated as a NPC interaction with some vague choices as a group to be made, and you may, for a brief period of time, interact with NPC.

You may only post in this thread if you have gotten a specific sequence of clues first, and your team has been quoted below by the mule.
 

[Hivestuck]

Kamileunaire

saedusk

Melancholies

 

[kamileunaire]

It had been a most interesting night, one that had seemed to pass by so quickly that Zeffer could hardly believe it was almost over. And there was still too much to do. If he hadn't been familiar with Chittentown before, the blueblood had certainly gained a much better feeling for it over the week they had spent conducting their investigation, and a sizeable chunk of that knowledge had been gained in the present night alone. After lifting the logbook from the distracted yellowblood at the sopor slime station, they had practically spanned the entired town checking locations, to no avail. There was one last spot to check, but as they headed into the desert, Zeffer felt worried, and skeptical. There weren't any buildings as far as he could see...

It was Aprife and Muerte who'd pointed out the unusual piece of 'scenery', once he had tripped over it. As quickly as he thought they'd lost their lead, they only ended up finding another to follow. Crunching over the cool sand, Snakedad followed at a distance, and Zeffer gazed ahead, spacing out for a while and letting himself fall into silence. The situation was eerily familiar, and it didn't take long to realize why. With the doomed ending of their first rebel mission lurking in the recesses of his mind, some of the blueblood's playfulness drained away as he began to prepare himself mentally. It would not end up that way, not this time. He was happy that they hadn't returned to the base to tell anyone, as they finally located what had to the door to the hidden hive. The last thing they needed was a large group to turn into an angry mob, when no one could come to a decision on what to do.

"Whatever we do...we gotta do it carefully." Zeffer commented in a low tone, as they stood before the door, echoes of their previous attempt fading into nothing. It felt downright odd, to have such words coming from his mouth, but it was spoken from experience. There was no telling what was inside; traps, an angry lusus, or even an angry troll, ready to blow away intruders. "Maybe we could knock a bit harder."  

[saedusk]

It wasn't as if they'd been hard up for evidence, not really. Aprife thought they'd been doing surprisingly well despite the resistances and trials they'd faced to get where they were now. In fact, the logbook they'd 'borrowed' felt more like icing on the cake than anything, a finale they'd worked hard towards. There was an excitement in his gut, but that wasn't it, there was something else, too. Not unlike his matesprit, he felt an edge of dark familiarity as they'd trudged through the desert.

This wasn't the first time they'd been here. Not here here per say, but this land in general, this harsh, unforgiving wasteland between cities. Aprife had grown since then. Suffice to say, the older and wiser adage actually wasn't too far from the truth, even if he still had a ways to go. This time, they were much more prepared, and he was certain things would go their way in the end.

Whether they would find some sort of answers, closure for this whole ordeal, he wasn't sure yet, but he was ready to find out.

"I think that's a good idea." The agreement was easy, what else could they do? Acting rashly and causing a disturbance was the last thing the yellowblood wanted to accomplish. They had to approach this situation with level heads. They could easily be walking into another ambush...

"Finding 'another' way in should be a last resort." He let that sink in for only a short moment as he glanced between his teammates and the door and back to them in turn. "Unless anyone's got something more clever in mind."  

[Melancholies]

Unlike the other two trolls present, Muerte was blissfully absent from any sort of unfortunate memories associated with the desert. He disliked the desert for purely cosmetic reason; the sand, grainy with a tendency to filter in everywhere, the arid atmosphere, the heat... He could actually appreciate the desolateness—his hive was quite isolated after all—but the trees of Four Fronds were far more appealing to the eye than... seas of sand and sand and more sand.

The greenblood yawned loudly, sarcastically almost if not for the fact that he was legitimately tired. The moons were but a breath on the horizon, and a pale light was beginning to creep over the skyline. The exhaustion, though not entirely foreign to him, was still slightly unusual to Muerte. He could easily spend nights bled into days seeped back into nights in the comfort of his lab, blinds drawn and sunlight blending in with moon. He couldn't tell the difference sometimes, as engrossed in his work as he could be, and thus found it somewhat interesting how actually acknowledging the cycles of the night could play such a role on his psyche. He would rest when he was dead. As he'd see to it, he didn't plan on dying, not now or not ever.

Regardless, they still had work to do, though the greenblood wondered how much more would really be possible. Since the night of their arrival (and the consequences of that scuffle...), the group had been fairing very well. From an outsider-looking-in, Muerte considered their efforts outstanding and all locations adequately scoured. There had been a lot of strange things they'd uncovered, discrepancies abound, rumors heard; all things considered, the scientist already had the inklings of an idea working in his mind....

But that would have to wait. They had quite an interesting lead that should at least clear the air or enlighten some facts. For once Muerte seemed content to let the other two take the charge. He could perhaps muster the energy, yes, but the past week had done well to wear on his bones. Living in a niche so far away from typical society made for a very introverted creature, and Muerte was definitely a product of his environment. He would be glad to see his hive again in due time, but as it stood... there were things that needed resolution.

There were also pipelines to trip over, evidently.

The hive was a surprise. Of course, he had been expecting a hive, but for it to be so cleverly hidden was somewhat... amusing, in a way. Who was hiding; why? They would have their answers soon enough, he was sure, due time. Even his sardonic presence took a backseat as the rest of his team sobered up, though for reasons Muerte himself wasn't aware of and didn't care to be. The initial knock went unrewarded; who knew what could be waiting behind that door? Muerte Perist was not like the other barbarians that inhibited this planet and comprised his race. He was a man of science, not of war, and while he disliked admitting to the fact he had to concede he was not one for fighting and probably never would be.

Of course, the other two trolls at his side seemed worn enough, and he had seen Zeffer's, ah, work first hand before, and thus found himself amazingly void of doubt in their capabilities. Think this through. They could all be calm, calculative; part of him wondered if any of the other trolls back in that meeting room had made it this far, had come up with their conclusions, or at least shared the same suspicions. Hopefully they wouldn't be as idiotic as the greenblood first assumed them out to be.

"I agree." Short and to the point, "It would be best to stay... cautious. Whoever is in there—something tells me they don't intend to be found."

 

[kamileunaire]

With the trio in agreement, they approached the door again. Zeffer reached out with solemn determination, delivering several solid knocks that seemed to echo inside for just a bit longer than before. He stepped back tensely, and waited.

Hivestuck

a. Your team tries knocking again. Maybe the tenant didn't hear or something.

 

[Hivestuck]

Zeffer's persistent rasps seemed to echo through the vast emptiness of the desert. You strain your hearing; there was no other sound save the crunching of the sand shifting beneath your walk stubs. Upon closer inspection of the slab of stone that was knocked upon, you realize it isn't actually rock, but some sort of textured metal, further indicated by various bolts and screws. There was no mistaking it, this door seemed to match the coordinates listed in the logbook.

Suddenly, a scraping noise. The long screeching drawl of metal upon metal came from beneath your feet- movement within the room below. It stopped just as immediately as it began, before you were met with more silence. The door abruptly jolted with a loud bang, and a rusty cranking noise begun to hum throughout the dunes. The door began to slide open creakily, clearly not often used, and lights from below poured into the night sky above. Once the two sliding panels of the faux rock has slide away, revealing a rusted rail ladder leading down, you hear a voice call out.

"Enter."

Inside, you find a lone blueblood in a hive which even the lowest of rustbloods could only describe as humble. It was starkingly empty, bare of anything other than the most basic troll necessities. The blueblood himself gave his caste away due to the dark bags under his eyes. Clearly, he had seen better days. His face was ragged, but the expression he wore was far from- he sized your team up with stern apprehension. Intriguingly enough, he wore the same hooded cloak of the Pheonix Initiative that you were all too familiar with. It was threadbare, clearly just as worn as the owner himself. He clutched onto his gleaming naginata, and while he wasn't in a defensive position, he was clearly ready to defend himself.

"So, what do you want? Are you here to drag me back to the Initiative to be culled, then?" The troll you could only assume was Qinlon seemed well aware of your affiliations. Had the troll from the sopor store tipped him off? His lip curled into a deep frown, raspy voice continuing before you could respond. "You kids don't even know what you've gotten yourselves into, do you? You have no idea the scale of what's really going on." You notice his knuckles whitening as he gripped his weapon tighter. "You couldn't possibly know. My own comrades didn't know, refused to listen- and now they're sending wrigglers after me. ******** fantastic. I figured it was only a matter of time before sometroll found me, but who the ******** are you guys?"  

[kamileunaire]

Zeffer watched in surprise and relief as the hive door began to open, wincing slightly at the screeching scrape of old metal grating against itself. The fact that their knocking had garnered a response was startling enough, but then a voice was calling from somewhere inside, inviting them in, and Zeffer huffed a soft breath as some of his tension eased away. Really, when he thought about it, they were being a bit foolhardy; he hadn't even had his weapons out and something could have rushed them. Glancing to his teammates, he murmured something about watching themselves, before moving to descend first, willing enough to be their defense, should something go wrong.

Fortunately enough, it seemed like their luck would hold. The minimalist interior of the hive did little to distract from their main focus, the ragged blueblood, who Zeffer could only assume to be Qinlon. His pulse had begun to quicken as he watched the older troll, eyeing his weapon anxiously as the other blueblood started to speak.

"We didn't come here to fight." Zeffer started, quickly adopting a stern, level tone, his eyes hardening into something more serious as he lifted his gloved hands for a moment. He could only thank gog that it was just the three of them at this point, with no one to leap out and ******** everything up. As action oriented as he tended to be, Zeffer was almost certain that nothing could be gained by attacking. "Maybe we don't, but that's what we're here for. All we want is to get a better picture of what's happened within the Initiative." He tried to explain, and then glanced to Aprife, feeling the tension creep back up his spine. His matesprit would be able to explain it better.  

[saedusk]

Finding the hive had almost been a stroke of luck. Now, as he watched the fake rock shift away, he couldn't help but think gaining entrance was also a bit of that, and they'd have to make quite certain their luck didn't take a turn for the worst. At this point Zeffer was right in his murmurs, caution would be their best ally. Caution, taking things slow, assessing the entire situation before taking any drastic movements. They'd learned that much from the past, at least.

Descending the ladder behind the blueblood, he hardly let his eyes wander from their host as soon as he saw the man, especially once he noticed the weapon clenched between his fingers. While he didn't appear to be readying a strike, the yellowblood wasn't going to drop his guard, not even for this sullen-faced elder troll held up in some nondescript and lonesome wasteland hive.

That didn't mean he wasn't nervous. No, like his matesprit there was a worry at the base of his spine. Being prepared for everything was a difficult task and he could only truly hope this troll's good graces would last them long enough to earn the information they were seeking. It was time to keep a level head and do the best they could to be firm, but preferably unoffensive.

"We came here on our own," he said shortly, taking the smallest of moments to glance between his teammates before training his eyes back on the stranger. He took a moment to introduce the three of them, first names only, just for the sake of civility. If he was agreeable with answering the older blueblood's questions, would he then answer theirs?

"We're not looking to disrupt what you've got going on here," he motioned vaguely. "All we want is to understand, just as Zeffer said. A lot of things were hidden from us and we've come seeking answers." What would he think of that honest revelation? Aprife wondered.

"We want to listen. What happened back then? There are still things that don't make sense."  

[Melancholies]

Muerte wasn't surprised when the fake door shifted away, eyes narrowed cautiously. The saw at his side felt heavy hidden under his coat, and his fingers itched for it. The scientist stood there for a while longer as his teammates descended the ladder, turning to reflect on the vastness of the desert. Something felt sweet, but bitter. What would they learn, here and now? Would they finally find the resolution they've been seeking?

Would there only be more questions?

He paused to rub at his temple. There were too many inconsistencies with the story. Part of him wondered why he was actually trying so hard now; why not do the bare minimum? It wasn't as if he would gain anything out of this ordeal. Quite the opposite actually. He had been dragged out here, forced to help... or, well, hell. He hadn't been forced really. He had his opportunity to jump ship, just as he had the first time ages ago. Things had stopped being convenient to him, so it was his time to leave. Things now were just as much an inconvenience as they were then, and yet now he stayed. Why the discrepancy? He wasn't sure.

By the time he finally reached the bottom of the lift, his teammates were already standing in front of the haggard blueblood, mid confrontation. Muerte felt his hand twitch for his saw again when he saw the gleam of the naginata, but he remained placid (or as much as he could be). It was a feat in of itself—especially when the blueblood referred to them as wrigglers, he so was not—but if even Zeffer could somber up for the moment, he supposed he could put in his own effort too.

"We've been in the dark." Muerte said, stepping out from behind the two much taller trolls to stand with them. His arms were folded, if only to keep his fingers away from the saw. Part of him disliked that use of we, as he was obviously not one of them—his eyes glanced over to Zeffer and Aprife—but it was entirely out of the question to even try and explain that. They were here with purpose, and he was willing to overlook certain things so long as they—he—got what he wanted.

"It's... important, to recognize every angle of the story. Necessary. There are a lot of things that don't add up, if you'd care to enlighten us on the matter, we would be more than willing to listen." He looked over the defensive blueblood carefully, equally ridged though obviously not as prepared to fight. Mostly it was just a struggle to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, though, part of him sympathized with the older troll. He knew too well how irritating it was whenever some trolls decided to barge into his own hive. Perhaps that was what gave him his ability to keep calm and carry on.

Or, more than likely, he was just tired. Muerte Perist was not a very kind troll, after all. Sympathy meant nothing outside of mere understanding.

But maybe he could be civil, just sometimes.

Hivestuck

 

[Hivestuck]

The blueblood seemed dissatisfied with Aprife's response about their identities, lips twisting into a deeper frown. Regardless, he lowered his naginata, returning the three other troll's narrowed stares.

"What good does telling you anything do? It changes nothing." Qinlon hissed. Although his weapon was pointed downwards, you could see that his body was tense, poised to attack at a moment's notice. "What do you even hope to accomplish? Like I said, you have no idea the scale of what you're dealing with, and I know nothing of recent activity."

"Besides, you're being awfully vague. What, did you just expect me to spell everything out for you? Who the hell do you think you are? I'm not walking you three through my life story. It's not my problem any more." Qinlon loosely gestured around his hive, his new life, although the robe he wore delivered another message. "If you have an actual question, then spit it out, or go away and leave me alone."  

[kamileunaire]

Zeffer couldn't help but wince inwardly as they were shot down. Part of him couldn't blame the grizzled b*****d, and he shifted, trying uneasily to think of something more useful to say. At least he wasn't attacking, or flipping the switch to some hidden trap. "It could change a lot, actually." Zeffer huffed, and folded his arms over his chest, trying to swallow any sass that threatened to spill over. "The Initiative's been through bad times lately. A lot of mistakes were made...a lot of us were captured by the military." He side glanced Aprife and Muerte for a moment, hoping that they would agree with his open approach.

"We believe there are informers in our midst, and I think you can help us single them out. You obviously still feel some connection to the organization." The blueblood pointedly eyed Qinlon's robe. "There are rumors abound concerning your disappearance, too. But you don't know anything about the WACKY or the Initiative's dealings with it, do you?" Zeffer glanced over at Aprife and Muerte, seeking support. The guy had to have something to add to their theories.  

[saedusk]

When Zeffer glanced this way he would find what he was looking for, agreement, because if nothing else this guy seemed uninterested in beating around the bush or playing games. Being open was probably their best option, getting out what they knew and seeing if he had anything to add to it before he inevitably kicked them to the curb. Of course they hadn't meant to offend, and the yellowblood found himself feeling just a little bit irked at the lack of an agreeable outcome, though he could understand the elder's attitude after the rumors they'd heard.

Regardless, whatever had happened, he was still wearing that old, tattered hood, so it begged the question: if he didn't care about the Initiative, why was he still decked out like that? If he did still care, why wouldn't he help them? Maybe acting like all they were seeking was the truth was the wrong approach. Maybe they would get better results if they could prove the rebellion was ever in danger.

All three of them had already voiced their willingness to listen to the blueblood's sorrows and that hadn't worked, but now Zeffer was taking the lead on getting him up to date. Aprife would follow suit.

"It's not even just that we were captured, it's that I'm pretty sure we were captured because of misinformation from inside." He paused, but only for a moment, recalling the papers on the WACKY's location. "We've heard rumors it was you who betrayed the Initiative, planted bombs on the ships, but rumors are rumors. If you're really the one who did it, why are things still happening now that you're holed up here?"

"Errade Etturi, that name is familiar, isn't it? Honestly, from what we've found, it seems like she's working with the crown. She's putting the Initiative in real danger." Crossing his arms, Aprife let out a short sigh. "Is there anything you can tell us about her? If she's doing s**t like this now, I wouldn't be surprised if she was doing the same sorts of things back then."  

[Melancholies]

As much as Muerte hated taking a backseat, he had to admit to himself that, aside from what they've dug up in the past week, he was still sorely uninformed of the past events. True, Zeffer had made mention to some of the ill-happenings, but Muerte rarely listened to the a*****e when he came to visit. His knowledge was vague, and listening to Aprife only made that fact sink in, what with the talk about WACKY and other such occurrences.

Still, his lip twitched slightly, fighting a sneer as he mulled over the blueblood's words. They were trying to be civil, and besides, it wasn't as if he didn't send them away. The b*****d let them all in, for what? Just to kick them all out again? Was he testing them? His eyes narrowed a little cautiously.

"Even if it's not your problem, and I don't think entirely that it isn't, it's our problem now." He would not let all their work thus far go to waste. Even though he was certain about their facts, enough to at least piece together a proper appeal, he still hated the holes and the unanswered rumors. He didn't know much to ask any substantial questions—he left those to Aprife, who he found was actually (maybe) not as stupid as he first thought him out to be. Listening to him talk affirmed that. Surely between the two of them, they could get something out of the blueblood, even if all Muerte himself was doing was backing Aprife up.

"Aprife is... right," the words sounded awkward leaving his mouth; now's not the time to be hesitant, haughty, "Everything is crawling with hearsay: the base, Chittentown... There's plenty of trolls that probably consider you a, ah, perpetrator. Regardless if you're really guilty or not, you still let us in here. We want to stop being blind-sighted so we can understand the gravity of the situation." his eyes ran over his companions again, Zeffer and then Aprife, "And even if it is more than we could bite off, I hardly doubt anything could stop those two from trying. This isn't a game to them, or me, or all the individuals back on base that are trying to make sense of this mess." he glanced again to Aprife again, remembering their scuffle earlier in the week, how he was refusing to take the situation seriously, and now... "...we're actually trying to do something. If you want to stay here hidden away, fine, but some of us are actually trying to change things. Understand that any bit of information could help us, I implore you."

He wasn't sure if his spiel would work, though he would at least like Aprife's questions to be answered. Hell, it all might just piss the ornery a*****e off even more, but if he was honestly going to let them all in just to kick them out again... then fine. They didn't need his god for ******** help anyway, not if he was going to waste their time like this. He was confident enough that, between him and the duo besides him, they could still figure out this mystery. They already had a good lead; they were just seeking clarity. He just hoped the blueblood had enough sense to comply, or at least relent slightly. He obviously wasn't getting much done hiding away here, some new life, but at least the son of a b***h could make it worth it to the trolls who gave a damn.

Hivestuck

 

[Hivestuck]

While Qinlon remained clearly on the defensive- he still hadn't even formally introduced himself, although it was clear all knew his identity- he seemed engaged. His bladed staff flashed under the dim, flickering electric lighting of his underground hive as he spun it thoughtfully in his hands as the three trolls spoke, eyes equally gleaming with insight as they questioned him.

"Captured, huh?" He let out a short scoff, giving his head a slight shake. "Are you sure that didn't just happen because you're all idiots?" Qinlon let out another scornful chuckle, giving them a pained smile. "When isn't the Initiative going through 'bad times'?"

"But informers, huh? Probably. Wouldn't be surprised. Like I said, I don't know jack s**t about whatever's been going on with you guys lately. Clean your ******** sponge clots out! I'm literally living under a ******** rock here." The exleader of the Phoenix Initiative gestured towards the disguised door the trio had descended from.

If Quinlon's expression had faltered when the trolls pointed out his obvious attachment to the rebels, it most certainly darkened when Aprife mentioned his betrayal. He muttered something along the lines of the ******** bombs under his breath, eyes flickering out of focus for the briefest of moments as he inwardly reflected deeply on something. Still, he remained receptive. Ish. Qinlon spat back his response. "Isn't it obvious, genius? I'm <******** innocent. A scapegoastbeast. What I've been saying this whole time." He blew up, voice raising, but it wasn't clear if it was out of excitement over their revelations or anger over their questions. "Truth be told, I'm still not entirely... sure what happened. I just know I didn't place actual bombs there, alright?" Qinlon paused, catching his breath. He was blue in the face. "The only reason I wasn't on those ships was 'cause someone physically stopped me, ya hear? By the time I came to and realized what had happened, it was too late. I didn't even get a chance to defend myself. Everyone turned on me, no one would listen."

The blueblood stiffened at the mention of Errade, but he merely shrugged. "No s**t it's familiar. What, is it a secret she's Head of Intel? Is that not a thing any more? Sure, I could tell you lots about her. We worked together, dipshit. She's prickly, but she's good at what she does, her department was always fiercely loyal. She likes long walks on the beach and her favourite colour is the darkest black that matches the bitches' soul- do I need to spell out for you that I'm looking for specific questions, here? If you're asking if I have any real information about her working with the crown, well, no." He shrugged once more, frown twisting to favour one side of his face. His tone was harsh, but he seemed to be honest with you. "We never got along, she had... very strong opinions on how to do things. We clashed a lot, pride, I guess. Surprised she didn't demand to take over, honestly. But as I said, I don't know what happened exactly back then, nor do I now. It does seem likely that someone is working with the crown though, doesn't it? It doesn't really make sense back then, though. Why did everyone die up there anyway if the bombs went off on the rebel ships?"

His eyes cut to Meurte, lips curling in a snarl as he addressed the final speaker. "You think I'm down here out of choice, smartass? That I just out n' bailed because it was the easy thing to do? This aint a game to anyone, kid, except maybe the Queen. And if she's inside the Initiative- it's game over for everyone else."

"I think I've humoured you brats enough," Qinlon flipped his hair out of his ragged face, glaring at each of them in challenge. He wanted them out. "You each get one more specific question before I kick your asses out. Use it wisely." He paused for a moment, turning back to Meurte. "Except you. You, shut the ******** up."