8994/The Last Archivist: Absent Without Leave

The Last Archivist: Absent Without Leave
Date of Scene:	28 February 2022
Location:	Location
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood, Tim Drake, Lonnie Machin

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Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Monte Vettore rises sharply from the surrounding landscape, its peak surrounded by reddish cliffs, covered in a dusting of snow at this time of year. It's the highest point of the Sibillini Mountains, part of the Apennines, an offshoot of the Alps. The mountain range that forms the backbone of central Italy is named for the sibyls, oracles of ancient Greece; legends claim that various sibyls lived out the ends of their lives in caves in these mountains. Particular to Monte Vettore is the story that the Apennine Sibyl, angry that Mary of Nazareth had been chosen to be the Mother of God instead of her, rebelled and was condemned to wait in a cave on the Monte Vettore for Judgement Day.

    Whether or not one believes /that/, strange things /are/ supposedly happening in the area. There's a small village near the base of the peak, nestled against its slopes, and visitors to the place have been posting about strange occurrences on social media: animals found dead, people disappearing, rumors of the dead walking the streets. The people of the village won't talk about it, but enough prodding can pull out fearful looks toward the mountain.

    Halfway up the mountain slopes, for anyone who's decided to trek on up, is a mountain cabin long since abandoned yet somehow still standing. The locals /will/ talk about /that/, the supposed site of the deaths of several deserters of the fascist army toward the end of World War 2, killed by... well, on that part nobody can /quite/ agree. A contingent of their fellows, who hadn't deserted, is the most obvious answer, but also ghosts, zombies, divine punishment. Local folklore, probably, but the cabin does feel... weird. It doesn't look like it hasn't been touched for over 70 years, it's still in good repair, if dusty. But there's weird vibes even to someone who /doesn't/ have mystical senses--to someone who /does/ the whole mountain just feels weird and off, somehow.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin is still in the midst of finidng distractions to keep his mind occupied while Jon was... well, he doesn't like to think about that part. When his the searh about the lists of the items on the physical Archive hits on the the small town in the mountains of Italy, he speaks to Agnes and makes his way out to the location.

    Once there his senses hit on the mountain almost before it comes into view. It's not pleasant. After getting a lot of quiet stares and furtive looks from the locals he's made up his mind. He's going to have to go alone it would seem.

    He's about to set off up the mountain trail to the cabin to investigate. Dressed in a heavy parka, snow pants, boots, gloves in different shades of blue he looks like he could be working on a Violet Beauregarde cosplay outfit. But the hood is down and his hat is off for the moment, so those who know his face might recognize him on sight.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Iceland had been Tim's idea. Camping out underneath the Aurora Borealis had been on his bucket list for years now, but he'd always been... busy. He never had the time.

    Until Phoebe copy-pasted the Archives into his head and kicked him off active duty for, bare minimum, two weeks. Which he could have spent catching up on other work, but it just so happens that he'd knocked all of that out during the OTHER forced leave he'd been put on a couple weeks back, by Bruce.

    So his options were either: go crazy doing nothing, or get the hell out of Gotham.

    Hence, Iceland. Italy, though, that'd been Lonnie's idea. They'd landed in Naples and spent some time visiting sites relevant to the founding of the of the International Workingmen's Association before they did the more traditional tour around Pompeii. Which was just about the extent of the touristy things Tim and Lonnie could agree on being worthwhile.
    Visiting Rome was right out. Too many people. The same with Venice. Florence and San Marino in the middle of the country were promising, in the sense that they aren't at the top of every tourist's list. Plus: lots of important anarchist history. So they headed north.

    And then they'd heard all about the mysterious village, from a very chatty woman on the train.

    Look. Look, you can't just dangle that kind of thing in front of Tim and not expect him to want to check it out. Even if it's just for a day. They have plenty of time to spare, because if it wasn't obvious already, there wasn't a whole lot of planning going on during this trip. They'd disembarked on one of the stations closest to Monte Vettore, and found transportation up the mountain.

    Tim's in the midst of negotations with the local inn-owner for both lodgings and information when his eyes catch on a familiar face over the woman's shoulder. He blinks, drops his flawless Italian accent to ask Lonnie, in English, "Wait, is that Martin?" and then excuses himself (back to Italian) before stepping out, away from the building, to lift a hand. "Martin!"

Lonnie Machin has posed:
    Honestly Lonnie's feeling both at ease and... oddly uncomfortable in Europe. He LIKES the looks and whispered glances he gets in the United States - 'It just means I'm unsettling the right people'. But here, his patches and his Sabot Cat t-shirt don't get so much as a second look, and he's really... not sure what to make of it. Honestly though, he's been really enjoying the hiking. The guy can walk for hours through a city or a wilderness trail and he explores like a ferret.
    Like right now, HE'S the one standing there shirtless in ripped jeans, t-shirt slung through his belt, wearing his glasses and a backpack while Tim chats up the locals - his Italian's perfectly good but he likes to pretend it isn't.
    He raises an eyebrow at Tim. "Martin? Here? Huh."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    /Martin's/ the one getting the looks; he kind of stands out in all his snow gear. Yes, it's cold, but it's not /that/ cold. It's been mostly above freezing, even getting up to about 5 Celsius (41 Farenheit for the Americans), and while that's cold, sure, it's not /parka/ weather. Not unless you're from northern England and complain bitterly about extremes of temperature constantly.

    There's a definite trail of /weird/ to Martin's senses, extending on up and around the mountain path. Whatever's going on here probably comes from up there. Probably.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin turns as he hears a familiar voice call his name. "Tim?" he asks, looking alarmed at the young man's presence here. "And... Lonnie, right?" He remembers his meeting with the young friend of Tim back at the vegetarian food truck. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be..." He pauses as he considers what dangers Jon puts himself in on a regular basis.

    "I take it back... but seriously, what are you two doing here?" he asks with a soft smile. "It's not really an exciting tourist location" he looks around. "Is it?" His eyes turn to regard the mountain before looking back at the young men.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Apparently Tim's the only one dressed sensibly, here. He has a jacket tied around his waist but he's layered a shirt, unbuttoned, over a short-sleeve tee. Which is enough to keep the chill of the wind off of him, though his nose and cheeks are a little reddened from exposure.

    He makes a final impassioned plea in Italian to the woman he'd been talking with, and she finally agrees to the exchange of money for goods and services, hauling their luggage off into the villa. Then Tim's free to approach Martin.

    "We're on vacation," he says, brow pinched together slightly. "We were on the train to Florence when we heard about this place. It seemed interesting, and remote, which was enough for me. Why are *you* here?"

    Though with the facts laid out, it doesn't take Tim very long to put two and two together. The strange stories they'd heard, all the rumors, and now Martin's presence? "You're not flashing your badge around, otherwise I'd say this was official SHIELD business. Something personal, then?" he asks.

Lonnie Machin has posed:
    "Get hiking at a good pace, and you barely even feel the cold." Lonnie said. Then again this guy's spent nights on the street in a Gotham City winter, and wasn't wearing an insulated costume beyond current military issue. But still, since apparently the hike's over, he unshoulders his backpack long enough to pull his t-shirt on - ordinary green, today - and he shakes his shoulders out.
    He drifts closer, in order to unashamedly eavesdrop.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The street is, for the moment, devoid of anyone but the two men. A strange thing for people used to big cities, not /entirely/ strange in a tiny village. But maybe the locals know something the visitors don't, because a sound interrupts the conversation: the crack of a gunshot that resonates off the mountain slopes. A rifle shot, and coming from some ways up the mountain.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    "Little of column A, little of column B truth be told" Martin replies with a grin to the pair. "The manifold of the physical Archive hit on a possible location of more of the lost cache." He gestures up the mountain. "It's somewhere up there. A cabin that's been abandoned for some 70 years... and that's about all I can get from the locals about it. Which tracks."

    He sighs at Tim. "It's not surprising you're here to be honest. Like calls out to like and all." He sighs. "I won't ask you to stay, if you're as much like Jon as he claims you are telling you stay here is a waste of time and energy for us all. But... can I ask that you follow my lead on this one? These things are..." He considers the right word. Dangerous was an understatement and unlikley to give the right impression of necessary caution. "Unpredictable."

    The rifle shot catches his attention and a hand goes to his own sidearm under the parka in a shoulder holster. "Just like that..." he says withdrawing the weapon. He's brought both ICER and standard sidearm for this trip. The lack of the tell-tale blue glow of the ICER charge is enough to make it clear this is his standard SIG. He turns to start toward the source of the shot. "Just... stay behind me for now. And stay low." He heeds his own words and lowers his stance even though they're at a distinct disadvatage in terms of ground for whatever gunman is up the mountain.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim looks up towards the mountain's peak. "After the war, then?" he asks as he scans for the mentioned cabin with a narrow-eyed gaze. It's probably pointless without some sort of telescoping lens (like he has in his domino mask) but, well, old habits et cetera.

    "I'm not sure I should--." But then Tim pauses to consider if Martin even knows about the Archive, and what's happened to it during the interim. He should... probably ask.

    The gunshot forces Tim's eyes to lift again, up towards the mountain slope. That he's not clutching a bleeding wound after the sound reaches him is something of a relief, but he's still frantic enough that he grips Lonnie's arm with bruising force as he drags them around the corner of the nearest building for cover.

    "We can't just go racing up the mountain when there's a gunman on the loose. There's no cover!" Tim doesn't point out his (or Lonnie's) current lack of body armor.

    Not something Martin needs to know they regularly wear.

Lonnie Machin has posed:
    Lonnie looks up at the sound of the gunshot, and then finds himself yanked around the side of a quaint little chateau - and he puts his back to it before he says, "The only way to get up there would be to find a place out of the gunman's angle of fire and climb or sneak up there." He opens his backpack and pulls out a pair of binoculars, before he offers them to Tim.
    "Though I admit that probably wouldn't do us a whole lot of good." He looks over at the other two. "If you're going to go up there, we'll wait here for the - ugh - polizia."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    There's no sign of police, nor anyone in the street. There /is/ a moment where someone peers out a window at the visitors pressing themselves against the wall, eyes wide, then flicks the curtain back into place.

    Martin doesn't draw any fire, not right away. That weird feeling just pulses from on up the mountain. Binoculars show a glint of something in the mouth of a cave in the mountainside.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin looks up and shakes his head. "Of course magic's involved here" he mutters. "Look, I can get us up there unseen. I think... it might be good for you to come, Tim. Especially since you have the nonphysical Archive in you right now. It might help in some fashion if I can't find what we're looking for."

    He pulls off one of the heavier gloves to reveal a white glove with arcane geometry on palm and back of it. He reaches out a hand to feel at the air, trying to get a bead on just what -type- of magic is brewing up on the mountain. "What do you see?" he asks the pair, since they were the smart ones who have binoculars.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "So, what, the other side of the mountain?" Tim ducks his head out from around the corner to peer at Martin, who remains out in the open. Then with a sigh he leans back and, with a quick "Thanks," takes the binoculars from Lonnie so he can do the same thing again. Except now instead of Martin, he's looking up at the mountain slope.

    And there's one question answered, once Martin lets it slip about the Archive. "If you think so," he says. "I can't promise you I can actually access it with any real effectiveness." Then he clucks his tongue, as he slinks back up against the wall. "There's a cave, about 250 meters up the slope."

    He pauses to look again, then glances back at Martin. "Roughly at your two o'clock. I see something in there but I can't be sure if it's our gunman or something else." Tim lowers the binoculars. He reaches out to grab hold of Lonnie again, this time circling fingers around his wrist. Much more gently. "You *really* want to stay down here and wait for the polizia?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

Lonnie Machin has posed:
    Lonnie looks at Tim, and he raises an eyebrow, "Of course I don't, but I don't either of us to get *shot*, either." He shrugs his shoulders, and says, "You have a plan, then?" He nudges Tim with his elbow, "Of course you have a plan." He pauses for dramatic effect.
    Then he says, "Gee, Tim, why don't you tell me about your plan?"