Discovery Gaming Community

In the fourth, lowest level of Islay's Green Hell, used to lie the Warrens. The lowest two levels of the establishment had always been used to house the most faithful, to serve as a staging ground for many of the coming and going groups, all owned by Banger Grim. Yet, it had long stayed locked, run down, abandoned and decaying- Until Jonah came back, after his years long hiatus, and decided a rebirth would be in order. Now, the broken, rusted bay door of the Warrens was repainted and redesigned- It now bore a smaller, keycode-locked entrance, and atop it, in an unorderly scrawl, three words, coloured rust and green.

Depths of Hell

Past these doors, a narrow catwalk leads forward. Those that enter would first see two signs- One pointing right, spelling 'BAR', the other left, spelling 'CREW'. Simple and obvious- yet, enough to hold the eye for what followed. Soon, attention would be drawn by the glorious sight below the catwalk. This, the area apparently known as the 'bar', was more like a botanical garden at the point. The deepest level of the Hell was now turned into a true jungle, the air rich, thick and moist in every part of the complex, apart from the crew quarters- If anything, for comfort during sleep. Stairs lead one down to the bar- A corridor to the crew quarters. One look to the left, and one would be met by... Not much, really. A series of doors, mostly untagged, and one open bay door of the storage room- The only distinct feature are two doors out of place- Rusty, old, decaying, with nametags on them, 'Banger Grim', and 'Druce Faolan', respectively.

A look to the right, and a trip down the stairs faces one with a glorious view. Along the walls, all manner of terraria and closed planters lay, containing thick Gaian soil, giving sprout to many different species of grasses, stalked plants, crawlers on specially designed 'ladders', all manner of lichens, mosses and flowering plants; From the wild jungle stinkbloom of Gaia, to the gorgeous, delicate desert orchids. Cases with large, dangerous-looking Mantraps hid in corners not frequented, laying there in wait of their next meal... These, however, are all the plants that require special atmospheric conditions, or are simply too toxic and dangerous to be kept in the open.

The rest of the Depths is different. Open planters at every step, the place is extremely lush and full of flora of all manner. Vines crawling from ceiling planters, less aggressive grasses, even fruit-bearing stem plants are scattered over the place, a swaying colourscape in the steady stream of air produced by the complex, heavy-duty ventilation system integrated in the entirety of the place. On the opposite side of the stairs, where the Depths met the edge of Islay's asteroid, a giant, well-secured window shaft points into the gorgeous violet expanse of the Islay cloud, occasionally bouncing off a rogue crystal of ice or two- The glass, however, is in no danger of cracking or denting from this. Right below the stairs, a wide, albeit ill-equipped bar stands, and to the right of this, deeper into the room, a wide selection of seating and lounging surfaces- Finally, there is thought of comfort in the whole thing. Cushions and pillows of all sorts line the seats, gotten, likely, from some traditional Corsair, able to get his hands on these luxuries...

And last, but not least- In the very back of the room, underneath a small, budding tree with spiral, orange leaves, lay a massive round table, surrounded by rotating chairs, and centered by a huge holodisplay, idling on the model of Gaia, spinning lazily in the center of it all, bathed in the dim light of the entire room- Exceptions made, naturally, for the UV lamps placed at strategic angles to provide most for the flora, and least damage done to the people in the complex.

((For now, the room is focused solely on the Watchers' members- Please keep it in mind! If you would however like to be invited to join, please send a PM.))

A scorpion rests on the hand of the man that sits across the table of the Gaian named Damien McEwan.

The Man doesn't say a word. He just watches as his opponent Dimi downs his shot and slams his empty glass hard on the table.

The man doesn't flinch as the vibrations on the table startle the scorpion into a defensive position...tail curled & now ready to strike.

Dimi smiles.

Everyone at the table knows the scorpion isn't lethal, but goddamn. it's sure painful as hell...that's why it's a game.

It's just a tradition...one of the rites of passage, if you like.

The man takes his shot in turn & slams his glass down, next to his opponent.

The scorpion on his opponent's palm startles & digs its stinger deep.

Dimi immediately vomits from the venom rush and collapses to the floor.

Before he passes out on the floor, he looks up at the man and says, "F***! Alright, Whatever...Welcome to the Gaians you little Bit**!

...& that's just how one guy joined the Gaian movement.