Post by Mister Karma on Jan 2, 2017 4:32:48 GMT -5
Thirty years later, and the metal and ceramic flotsam of the former undersea base still keeps washing up on Haven Coast. Anything from small waterlogged computers to gigantic corridors which were held together by suspension cables, the ruins of the A.N.G.E.L. base wash ashore every day. About a million dollars' worth of destruction shows up, keeping construction workers employed by moving or recycling the stuff. From a distance, the beached flotsam looks like a mountain of crystals after a violent volcanic explosion, with jagged pieces jutting this way and that against the horizon. Because much of it is weak, rusty and coming undone, civilians are asked to stay away from the washed up ruins at night, even resorting to stationing United Commonwealth guards and occasional police to keep people from wandering too close. This, however, does nothing to keep curious eyes from capturing a closer look by any means necessary. People will be people, and people will still find a way.
The large and small pieces of A.N.G.E.L. which form its dangerous, twisting and winding labyrinth take up part of the northern beaches, all the way to the cliffs overlooking the sea. Roughly, that's about a mile and a half of beach sand, and another half mile of high rock wall and jutting stone spikes from the crashing waves. New Haven and River City are currently figuring out what to do with the ruins, whether they should be repurposed into construction supplies and save on buying new supplies for construction companies, discard them entirely in incinerators and landfills, or reconstruct the base as a sort of historical attraction for the public to view. Actually, neither city truly knows what to do with the pieces, and this hangup keeps them from making an informed decision...which opens doors for bandits and other small groups to hijack the pieces and build their own small bases, especially bolted to the cliff wall.
Many companies from all over the eastern coast of the State gather here to try and purchase large parts of the ruins for their own gains, as well, including the engineering and R&D departments of the United Commonwealth, the Archives', RNA, and many private tech and cleanup agencies. It seems never-ending, however, with new metal flotsam beaching practically every week, keeping everyone involved employed--whether all are on the books or not.
The ruins themselves is a dangerous tangle of jagged, twisted, crushed, and sharp metal that makes it extreme dangerous to explore or salvage. Adding further difficulty exploring the ruins is the heavy toxicity of the waters near by. Radioactivity, heavy metals and chemicals from the labs, testing facilities, and storage rooms have leeched into the waters and ground leaving the a toxic stew that would corrode most suits and hoses, and generally pose a major hassle for anyone wanting to safely recover anything from the wreck of the base. As a cherry on top, not all the explosive munitions from the base have cleaned up. Quite of lot of grenades, bombs, missiles, and shells have been left behind after the detonations of the main magazines. They survived by being stashed away in storage lockers, personal cabins, labs, manufacturing lines, and even hangers.
The large and small pieces of A.N.G.E.L. which form its dangerous, twisting and winding labyrinth take up part of the northern beaches, all the way to the cliffs overlooking the sea. Roughly, that's about a mile and a half of beach sand, and another half mile of high rock wall and jutting stone spikes from the crashing waves. New Haven and River City are currently figuring out what to do with the ruins, whether they should be repurposed into construction supplies and save on buying new supplies for construction companies, discard them entirely in incinerators and landfills, or reconstruct the base as a sort of historical attraction for the public to view. Actually, neither city truly knows what to do with the pieces, and this hangup keeps them from making an informed decision...which opens doors for bandits and other small groups to hijack the pieces and build their own small bases, especially bolted to the cliff wall.
Many companies from all over the eastern coast of the State gather here to try and purchase large parts of the ruins for their own gains, as well, including the engineering and R&D departments of the United Commonwealth, the Archives', RNA, and many private tech and cleanup agencies. It seems never-ending, however, with new metal flotsam beaching practically every week, keeping everyone involved employed--whether all are on the books or not.
The ruins themselves is a dangerous tangle of jagged, twisted, crushed, and sharp metal that makes it extreme dangerous to explore or salvage. Adding further difficulty exploring the ruins is the heavy toxicity of the waters near by. Radioactivity, heavy metals and chemicals from the labs, testing facilities, and storage rooms have leeched into the waters and ground leaving the a toxic stew that would corrode most suits and hoses, and generally pose a major hassle for anyone wanting to safely recover anything from the wreck of the base. As a cherry on top, not all the explosive munitions from the base have cleaned up. Quite of lot of grenades, bombs, missiles, and shells have been left behind after the detonations of the main magazines. They survived by being stashed away in storage lockers, personal cabins, labs, manufacturing lines, and even hangers.