Private Ilmea's Lament Granita di Caffe

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Fausto hadn't spent much time at beaches. He'd had a few lovely moments traveling to distant beaches along with his family but more often than not many non-beach activities kept him occupied on all of those trips. The massive, strikingly blue, apparently impassable ocean might as well have been the first ocean he'd seen. It struck him every few glances towards the ocean would leave him frozen and struggle at an inability to really take the sight in. He kept thinking there was a black flag-flying ship along the horizon reminding him of the true prize. While doing the bare minimum of research on Terrasphere (and taking every rumor he'd heard as absolute truth) he stumbled upon the idea of Nacre. A free city unburdened by things like "states" and "laws" or "protected liberties." He probably should have been scared but the sounds of rare sights, sounds, tastes, and smells in the veritable "pearl" of seaside cities filled him with passion for a true romance dawn.

Thankfully he had managed to interest only the very best in aiding him in his search. A very difficult search considering he only knew there was allegedly an underground city somewhere bordering this massive ocean which even had distant islands that were too far away from to swim to. He'd tried before and realized he couldn't recover energy by "just floating on his back." Which he took issues with. It wouldn't be too hard to get a raft built between the people he'd met though. Two of them looked strong enough for it. He turned to the very-much-not-about-to-build-a-raft Penthesilea pulling his eyes away from the beautiful ocean.

"Look at that view! Can you believe its all just a simulation? I can even taste the salt in the air. The breeze isn't doing much for the heat though. They didn't have to make summer feel so 'summer'-y, right? Thankfully I managed to get these."


He produced a bandana matching one that he was already wearing. A white cloth that had the look of not belonging to Redan with a surprisingly symmetrical skull and crossbones painted on with soot. The only reasonably pirate-y accessory he could manage on such short notice. He offered it with all the importance one would take to bestow a crown or hand over an old treasure map.

"Now all we need to do is find where 'X' marks the spot! How hard could it be to find an underground city full of pirates."


@Penthesilea
 
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Up until now, Penthesilea felt as if she was wasting her time. For all the various dossiers she had to say about Terrasphere and all of the interesting things there were to do, she mostly found herself wandering the woods and getting involved with rabbit crimes. When one of her star-crossed companions came forth with a suggestion that didn’t involve rabbits (that also happened to be at the beach, no less), she quickly sprung at the opportunity. To her, a pirate cove was the perfect place for her--with so many crooks running through, it was bound to be a source of well-informed contacts and significant pieces of mundane information.

While it was a radical departure from her misadventures in the woods, it certainly wasn’t a new experience. She was quite accustomed to the beach and the tortuous summers, especially now. Yet, she still felt it necessary to humor the young man, lest his dreams metastasize into horrific nightmares before he even had a chance to be physically eviscerated.

“It’s beautiful, no doubt.”


She paused. Wincing she looked ahead, noticing that the weather and all that entailed wasn’t the only questionable retention. She cursed,

“They could have done without the seagulls, terrible things."


Small talk out of the way, her mind was fluttering with the business at hand. Realistically, this wasn’t going to be a one day endeavor. A trip to the beach, while an amusing excursion, was hardly likely to produce much value. At best, she hoped to get the faintest shiver of a clue that would lead to a pirate with a chip on his shoulder, that she would later be able to break after several escalating instances of torment and blackmail. Honor among thieves was an axiom that proved to be a frustrating wall (although her work in the field suggested that a gift of Lamborghini was more than enough to earn a backstab or two). Without a Lamborghini to her name, she knew that she may be doomed to fail.

While no Lamborghini, Redan wasn’t without gifts himself. She glanced at the bandana, brushing it off as a disguise. As a polite gesture she accepted it. However, she quickly tightened her grasp, allowing the bandana to dissolve in a cascade of orange and then gray. Keeping her steeled expression as ashes and still glowing embers floated away from her, she never once broke eye contact. Clapping to rid her hands of the remaining soot, she offered an explanation, no matter how emotionally disruptive it may have proven to be,

“No, Mr. Darc. I’m afraid I must respectfully refuse. It is a matter of preserving my dignity"


Turning around she put some thought towards what exactly their mission would entail. In every scenario she ran in her mind, Redan was murdered and she felt, at the very least, partially responsible. Having quickly prepared herself for and then pre-emptively resolving said grief, she responded to Redan's youthful optimism with her own candid train of thought,

“Very difficult I’m afraid… and if I were you, I would be on my best behavior: The wrong question aimed at the wrong person, and you will surely be subjected to torture, if you so happen to survive. Now, we have plenty of coastline and sea to cover, so let's get to it... Where is our boat?"


She had hoped that that very basic, and singularly important acquisition had been made.
 
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For what it was worth Redan managed to keep the expression on his fate at hurt instead of dipping into pained as he watched the memento accessory he had prepared for Penthesilea float away as ashes on the sea breeze. The cloying salt stinging more than he remembered. Admittedly everything in his real life had taught him to be intimidated by tall confident women with an interest in finding criminal stomping grounds. It took a lot for the kid behind the VR mask repeating a mantra of "It's just a game" in his mind to find his cool again. Just in time to feel it being stripped away from him.

As she asked the wrong question he tromped forward on to the warm sand, somehow already in his boots, and took a triumphant pose staring towards a different sun. The bandana tied around his head short enough to flap tragically in the wind.

"If only we had so simple a task! We're only armed with a dream of adventure, this beautiful day, and the knowledge that we're looking for something underground. And boats are probably hard to get on short notice, I'll try that next time."


With a carefully constructed cadence he did his best to minimize the wrong answer he had for the wrong question. It was the type of quickly composed rhythm that had a chance to get past overworked educators. Just a small chance. Thinking that hard on his response seemed to inspire other thoughts. With the energy of a dog returning a stick he quipped again.

"Considering how big this game is Nacre could really be anywhere, but it's gotta be big enough to park a boat in. What are the odds it'd be on one of those islands out there anyway?"


@Penthesilea
 
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There wasn't a shred of disbelief as Redan took it upon himself to throw the words "dream" and "adventure" within the same sentence. It could have been endearing, but it wasn't. Penthesilea remained ever static in the blistering heat, losing precious energy as her eyes tracked Redan's youthful exuberance. He hadn't gotten too far out of hand, so felt no harm in letting him continue and work out some of this energy. She was certain that he could do this for another hour and still have enough life in him to flee when this day inevitably drifted south.

"Probably..."


She repeated. Disappointed, but not surprised, she simply struck island hopping off of the itinerary. In truth, she understood how hypocritical it was of her; she also had made no effort to acquire of a boat of any sort. As Redan had noted, they were effectively searching a haystack for an infuriatingly small, and confoundingly straw-like needle. She had a few ideas in her approach to this as a long term endeavor. They were going to have form some connections in hope of one day getting pieces of the puzzle by means of drunken slips, and 'friend of a friendisms'. Running a few scenarios through her head as she began to pace, she turned away from Redan, tapping her index fingers on the tip of her nose in contemplation. Once more she glanced up, evolving into her telltale look of contempt as she glared down the seagulls, wondering if there would be some way for her to speak to hideous creatures.

What she had to say, however, was quite brief,

"Of course, we can't look everywhere, so we're just going to have to get get by on breadcrumbs. I'm sure you've already figured out that we'll have to build a rapport with the locals. So please, try not to be so cavalier, we aren't in an Errol Flynn film"


There was a clear mark of severity in her tone, as she turned her full attention back to Redan and away from her plotting. Integrating themselves into this life was going to be no small task, the dangers of the underworld demanded that suspicion be levied out liberally. Every day of this endeavor was going to open the two of them up to increasingly more treacherous and volatile villains. Penthesilea wasn't fully convinced she could trust him to act as an agent effectively, but she was slightly more confident that he wouldn't double-cross her--although, she would never remove the possibility from her mind.

"Tell me, Mr. Darc. Do you know how to play baccarat?"


@Redan Darc
 
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There was a definite impression of something sour there. Redan wasn't sure yet if that was just the natural bend conversations with Penthesilea followed or if he had some hand in souring things. It certainly felt like he'd failed to meet some expectations.

"Unfortunately, yeah. Could count the number of times I'd won on one hand. Do they play that out here? (In here?)"


Pacing in a small circle he thought about Penthesilea's plan. It sounded like it would take lots of concerted effort over a long period of time and, maybe importantly, hinged on the vague concept of people. Then—

"Is that an actor? Wait- If we could just find someone who knew where it was couldn't we just ask them to take us? Pretend to be the representatives of someone looking to buy something rare or illegal?"


He made no connection to merry men at the time but found inspiration in any idea that might expedite finding Nacre. Still missing the other people they'd have to trick but it sounded better than... what? Had she brought up the idea of getting embedded? He decided to drop the last bomb of information he had.

"While we try either of those we could walk up and down the coast a bit, get a kind of map going. My school has a computer lab that pays for all kinds of simulation software. Maybe comparing a simulation to the simulated world out here would be a good way to locate points of interest? Sounds like a way to get something in a couple days compared to..."



@Penthesilea
 
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"Well, that's the idea."


She quintessentially agreed to the notion that they simply ask. Where they differed, was in the ease of asking. Every bad scenario that she ran through entered the realm of trenchcoated schemes and hushed utterances of 'Heart of the Ocean'. Every single instance she conceived ended poorly, even the scenarios where the woman behind the VR headset attempted to confront her own cynicism with "It's just a game." Still, no reassurance could calm her. With the many bloody deaths of Redan Darc cycling through her mind, she lightly on her finger with a previously unseen nervous fervor.

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori


Suddenly, without truly moving a muscle, her hair flared as if she had been yanked from creation.

"I can't imagine it working so quickly. We've no background, no infamy, no credentials. With no reputation to speak of we'll be a disadvantage, and we'll be vulnerable."


She explained, taking a calm, level-headed stance as her hair finally made its way back down. Thankfully, he wasn't entirely struck on the spur-of-the-moment plot that had slipped out. As a result of her own position, she wasn't able to put forth many if any of her outside resources towards understanding this game, lest she end up the bad sort of trouble. Simply offering a nod, she signaled the start of today's journey,

"A noble idea, I'll see if I can get can get a few detailed maps later to help you along. "


What contacts she had, were mainly from her various rabbit crimes. She was sure that the hook-handed fisherman she had befriended had a map or two she could contribute. There was one thing she was entirely unable to let go, however.

"And yes, well, he was an actor of Hollywood's Golden age. I'd recommend 1935's Captain Blood to pass the time after you've run some simulations."


@Redan Darc
 
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With an impudent expression Redan rubbed at his chin. He hadn't asked Penthesilea for help just because he wanted to pal around with a fire-controlling lady with impeccable fashion sense. No, he did this because he was just as ready to commit to finding Nacre. This kind of forethought and consideration was a necessary requirement in doing exactly that. He was foolish to think a fit of fancy and whimsical adventuring would land him in the pirate capital of, essentially, the whole world. "Well it's only the coast really, huh? Can't intercept the Spanish's silver fleet out here." He started down the beach a few steps as memories of just how beautiful the day was returned to him.

"Oh? Are you a cartographer? I was just planning on bringing my vr gear to school. It'd be good to check the shore out too either way."


He kept walking towards the soothing waves rolling along a pristine beach. It was the stuff dream vacations were made of. That only very lucky people would get the chance to enjoy in 2032. Funnily enough also something Redan had enjoyed and he could only consider this place more "unspoiled." With less of a coherent direction and more a latent desire to wade in the water he unwittingly headed towards a white-ish outcropping in the white sand. Something that looked perhaps like a rock or coral, with the vague shimmer of a dull gem that had somehow lost more of its luster.

"Captain Blood? Besides that was that Finch guy in anything good?"



@Penthesilea
 
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Redan's assertion that she must have been a cartographer was a leap, but it wasn't entirely off base. Admittedly, she was confident in her understanding of maps, and their relationship to the space that they were supposed to represent.

"Not quite."

Had been more than enough for her to add, without any need for even the briefest addition of relevant elaboration. Even in her time remaining stagnant on shore, she was taking notes on her surroundings. Thus far, she was only able to conclude that this stretch of beach had largely remained undistributed by the likes of the disruptive and most distributed people they were chasing. At the most, she was only able to really surmise that some seagulls had attempted to eat a crab recently, based on the frantic cavalcade of seagull prints, and the crushed crab corpse laying in the sand

Nothing of value was left here, so she was happy enough to be on the move. Folding her arms, she cursed her black attire in the unforgiving sun. With nothing relevant to the case at hand, she had nothing to really distract herself from Redan's puzzlement, which bled into her own growing bemusement. It had had been easy to read quite a bit of homage throughout much of Redan's so deliberately chosen in-game personae. Yet, could really just be chalked up to the significant cultural significance of his particular realization of the swashbuckler archetype.

"Flynn."

She instantaneously intercepted with the peerless speed and precision of a currently unknown, period-appropriate stealth interceptor. Despite the fact that what was ahead of her was ostensibly work of both the perilous and often dull variety, this was still her leisure time. In such times of gaiety, her mind was prone to wander away from cyberterrorism into her old (yet still present) passion for the world of twentieth century film.

"He had quite a turn on screen. Other than Captain Blood, I can recommend The Adventures of Robin Hood. But I suggest that you never look into his personal life, nor any records of his criminal misdeeds. "

Disappointed that she allowed herself to be distracted, she turned her attention fully towards where the two managed to be going. Keeping up with Redan, on the beach, she caught a glimpse at the pale bit of landmark that had seemingly caught his attention. Carrying on ahead, she chose to scout it out, incase any of the multitude of dangers she quickly conceived turned out to be both realistic and true.

@Redan Darc
 
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The inspired youth kept walking forward until he lightly stumbled over that pale bit of something like a shell ending up far past it. Redan shook the offending boot as if something had pinched it. Taking in the sight of the beach, the modest curve formed by countless waves and noted the tide seemed low. He was still a ways from the water by the time Penthesilea gave her other recommendation. He shot back with a singsong tone.

"Maybe I could steal a few catch phrases from that. They had catchphrases back then right?"


Something caught his eye in the sand and just as quickly as he'd noticed he went to pick it up. Now a good distance from the toe-stubber of an outcropping. He picked up a faintly glittering shard of some mineral wavering between a light violent and iridescence. He lifted it to the light and waved Penthesilea over to take a look. Not noticing at first a subtle shifting of sand behind him.

The shard, more like a chip now that he'd had a moment to see it, felt like just the kind of treasure he was hoping to find in eventually. In a kind gesture he offered the rather insignificant shiny piece to the darkly dressed woman.

"What do you think? Is that a sign of nearby pirate cities or just a good omen?"


A louder shifting of sand came from that outcropping again, filling the air at the same time of Redan's exuberant volume. Then there was something like a crash as a plume of light sand rose up. He was at the moment speechless as something just about six feet tall and a bit wider began to make a silhouette in the kicked up sand at the moment a distance behind Redan. He was startled enough to not be sure how to react in the moment beyond staying frozen.

@Penthesilea
 
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