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• Explore the still-unstable Watertown-Cambridge Wormhole
• Make our mark at the heart of that great Hydropolis, Watertown
• Bust the funk, natch
Mission SummaryWhat lies at the heart of Hydropolis, the Cambridge System's western neighbor? What Watery Terrors lurk in its little-explored Wormholes? Is it a Town or a City? As Pilot Ziqqurat arrived upon the Launchpad, after an Earth day of such Dankness that the Air itself seemed Liquid, he found Himself transformed into a Gigantic Cuttlefish. What better time to find out?
SCUL assembled in full Aquatic Exploring fig, blinking with Chromatophores and ready to Jet along the Currents into the Damp Unknown. Bane ably Navigated the high Seas, with a steady pace and Twirling and Eddies to keep things interesting. DeadBride brought Groove of the Deep, having with 3Speed performed swift Wookieeing to bring her Radiobox online. After a brief Sojourn in the sunlit Shallows, marked only by a Mechanical to Gritty's ship, through the darkening Wormholes we did Plunge, and into the Frigid Depths.
There in our Strange Forms, beyond the knowledge of Air breathing Surface-folk, we dwelt an Unknown Time amid Wonders and Glories. Snax were shared, ancient Weapons and ceremonial Altars were observed. A Palatial Tardis served us well, except for LordMcFuzz who declared it was too Dark. I'm not sure what he was trying to Do in there. PQ was approached by The Man from Atlantis, and earned a Medal of Diplomacy by convincing him that our Groove was harmless and in fact the Noise Complaint was about some other Whale Songs.
The centre of Hydropolis is distinguished by a Marvellous Tree which scintillates and pulses with a Luminous Iridescence, exquisite to behold and bespeaking a Vast yet utterly Alien Intelligence. Whether this is a Miracle of nature or a sublime Artifice of nameless Merfolk is beyond me to say.
Soon it was but Eight Minutes to the appointed Hour for our return. Spiraling ever upward through yet more Cryonic Wormholes, we ascended smoothly to Warmer and more Familiar regions. Pilots Nova and Gritty burned up in Streaks of cool blue Fire. We rode the currents through Harvard Constellation, as seaborne Creatures to whom the scurry of land Life lacks all Urgency and Import.
Breaking the surface at last, we returned to the Launchpad and our customary Earthly Forms. Mission Success was declared, and from Ziqqurat's tentacles we received, in place of mission Pins, bizarre Biperforate Talismans of unknown Significance. And so to our Lairs.
Thus we Journeyed among the Hydropolitans, and perhaps the Gentle Reader will say that we are Mad, yet I will swear to every Word. Upon this Virtual Parchment I have scribed our Log, and now I set it Adrift in this Bottle.