❪ event ❫ THE DESCENT: PART TWO.

[natha]

JULY 16th: THE MORNING AFTER     In the early morning, your characters' phones will buzz with a text from an Unknown ID. It contains an audio file as well as its transcription: DARMA'S MESSAGE It worked. By the miracles of all universes, you survived. It was not ideal by any means, but it was all we can muster with limited time. We hope you can forgive us for your injuries and headaches, and we thank you for working together and helping one another. But now, your journey is just beginning. You must head east to find the Outpost. That shall serve as a fine rest stop. However, there will be danger ahead yet. The beasts you encountered in the simulations are now very real. They will attack, as you are seen as meat. Please exercise caution, Refugee. This shall be my last message for some time. The Moons are protected, but I must rest... I leave the rest to you. INTO THE WOODS     Head east, Darma said— and so you do. That seems to be all you can do. Traversing through woods is not a simple task. Hopefully you have taken advantage of the camouflage outfits offered prior to the start of this great migration. Naturally, for those of you who have done the training modules, some things will be a bit familiar. Some wildlife will mimic what you've seen there. Nevertheless, it'll be crucial for one to keep on guard. While Sael selected the Outlook as the ideal place for landing due to its direct removal from Olympian or Wyver soil, it doesn't come without its own dangers as you venture east. Perhaps it's time to face your fears. PROMPT A. There are many creatures roaming around these parts. Some will blend straight in with the woods, others will be bold and loud. While traveling as a party of about 180, it's quite easy to become targets. Fortunately, that also means strength in numbers. Maybe you've got someone's back on this, perhaps they have yours. Either way, what's quicker way to bond than to face a couple of questionable beasts? Maybe you've ran into a Arache (CW link: arachnophobia), a creature known for mimicking voices, even ones they haven't heard. They weasel their way into your subconscious and pick out voices from your memories, luring their victims deeper into the strange woods with the voices of their loved ones. Sometimes, it's a cry for help; other times, it's a replay of a striking memory. Once its victim steps into its large, barely-visible web, the Arache will store them or start its feast. Or, perhaps, you may encounter a Ditz Moth, as large as a rabbit who are relatively easy to kill, but they leave an awful scent on you the moment they flee or die. Be sure to mask this scent immediately, whether by covering yourself in fresh flowers or soaking in river water for an hour, because it's been known to cause extreme confusion. You'll end up dizzy, you'll confuse your friends for enemies, or enemies as loved ones. Or, you run into something else entirely! The forest is the home for many creatures from many worlds; who knows what you may encounter? PROMPT B. You've been traveling for a fair distance. While this is by no means a desert, the sun begins to settle, leaving an unprecedented heat. Perhaps it's the contrast against the night, but you find it almost unbearable. Lucky for you, the goddess of fortune is smiling upon you. At a distance is a clean lake. One full of lush scenery, and large trees canopying the immediate area. There is lots of shade, and maybe this is just the break you need. Or alternatively, the rations were sparse last night. It barely covered a meal each. Fortunately, this area seems full of wildlife one can hunt. Perhaps, that three-headed rabbit in the distance? Maybe that frog that smells a bit like lavender and vanilla? Additionally, for those who find themselves more inclined to leaving it up to fate— ENTER: OLYMPIA'S WEST OUTPOST     After a full day of travelling, you finally make it to the West Outpost as Darma instructed. You can tell by the way the trail gets neater, flatter. There are some small shops all along the sides of the road, offering trinkets, precious stones, and food. Unfortunately, you don't seem to have the money to purchase anything. The only thing you can do is watch wearily as you approach the West Outpost Gate. Near the gate, you're expected to form a line. The guardsmen seem to be inspecting every person entering. When it's finally your turn, the guardsman seem to know exactly what group you are. He immediately calls you Refugees, then proceeds to open a folder specifically labeled Refugee Group D. You might assume the "D" stands for Darma. He seems to be happy to see your arrival — Anyway, we've been expecting you. You're in luck! You refugees arrived the day after Thesa's blessing, y'know? That meteor shower was a sight to behold! What's your name? Oh, there you are— here, take take this. It's your passport. Gonna need that to get to Olympia. Your sponsors paid for your inns for tonight, so get yourself a room. You're at the last leg before the Capital. Keep your head up, all right? It seems now you are an official Olympian citizen with this passport. As you walk around, there will be an old man about. He sees you holding your bags and passports and approaches you. He has seen the fiasco in the skies from the day before. Naturally, he believes it to be a divine sign, and you the product of that. Which translates to free food. It must be relieving to eat (relatively) normal food after so long. There's also a very special visitor at the Outpost today: a woman by the name of Lysa, who happens to be a renowned healer in Olympia. Following the strange meteor shower, she’s come out of the city and into the outskirts to see it all for herself, this divine phenomenon brought upon by Thesa. While she has no explanation for the sudden occurrence, she stays, because she can sense that her services are needed. Healthy characters will taken by the hand and brought to a wounded fellow refugee. Lysa will then urge them to stay by that refugee’s side, to care for them. Please, do not go. I need a little of your compassion and patience. PROMPT A. If the wounded party has lethal injuries, Lysa will give the healthy character a vial of Screaming Draught to feed to them. It's a strong healing potion known for its ability to regenerate cells. It can close up almost any sort of wound, no matter how large, and can even regenerate limbs. However, its ability comes at a costly price. Seconds after taken, the wounded character will experience an excruciating, constant pain as the healing takes place. Some who have taken the potion may even start to become delirious, seeing hallucinations. If asked about this effect, Lysa looks solemn, remarking that her clinic is too far away and she does not have anything gentler on the body on hand. She urges your character to help the suffering one through this, giving them their comfort and any kind of support. PROMPT B. If the wounded party has smaller injuries, Lysa will give your character a vial of some basic Proliferation Elixir, a weaker healing potion with less devastating side effects. It can heal cuts, bruises and minor fractures. Characters who take it will experience side effects such as dizziness, nausea and a persistent chill. They are still in need of attention, and Lysa will urge the healthy characters to tend to them. Warm them up. Feed them something nice. Keep them from wandering around when they should be resting. Show any kind of care and you'll make Lysa a happy woman. Characters who answer Lysa's pleas will be given a small vial of Proliferation Elixir as a token of gratitude. It's good for one-time use. NIGHTFALL AT THE WEST OUTPOST     As dusk approaches, bustling Outpost quiets down as the flea shops pack up their things to go home. But it seems this outpost is not one that simply sleeps at night. Thesa is high on the skies when the Outpost square lights up. There's music, dancing, and laughter. They seem to encourage you to join them as well. "This celebration is for you! Come, join us!" Perhaps their enthusiasm is infectious enough for you to succumb to it; perhaps you don't understand at all why they're this happy after the hell you went through to get here. It's not like you can tell them what the "meteor shower" actually had been. At least they offer free alcoholic drinks and a great feast similar to those you remember from home. You may find that the drinks are far stronger than any alcohol you've ever had, but it taste like a typical cocktail, or whiskey/scotch/vodka/your flavor drink. Nothing particularly special until you make your way back to the inn. Let's hope you won't walk into the wrong room. FINAL OOC NOTE     This is PART TWO of our three-part intro event. PART THREE will be up on JULY 22ND, at 6 PM EST. In the event of CAPTCHA, we will be providing an overflow. In the event of a second CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP. The NETWORK is still down. Characters may still message each other's personal IC inboxes. REMEMBER TO USE COMMUNITY TAGS. RECOMMENDED LISTENING: Nocturn OOC PLOTTING may be continued here. PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE (coming soon) QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● world ● map ● reputation ● npcs taken ● reserves ● application calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

c2;

[perfectdisaster]

[ There's a reason he doesn't drink -aside from age- and that's because it impedes judgement, impairs basic motor functions, and causes people to make fools of themselves. Case in point can be found sprawled out on the bench in front of him. Expression impassive, he reaches out to shake the sleeper awake, figuring it's probably for the best to make sure they get back to their room safely.

Though it feels a little strange to be shaking a raccoon awake. ]

Get up.

i'm so sorry heero

[beatupgrass]

[It's about to feel not just strange, but mildly painful.

See, regardless of sobriety, Rocket doesn't like to be touched. He especially doesn't like to be touched out of nowhere. Especially not when he's asleep.

Heero has made several very bad calculations.

The shaking brings Rocket back to consciousness, chased with the still hazy feeling of inebriation that doesn't allow him to get a really good purchase on his location and surroundings. All he can fathom are three things:

(1. He is uncomfortably impaired.

(2. He doesn't know where he is.

(3. Someone has their hands on him.

These three things click together that he bares his teeth in a snarl and tries to dig his claws into the culprit's arms. He can't quite summon a real snarl through his slurred speech, so he ends up just drunkenly shouting.] What the hell?!

[It's a bit of an overdramatic reaction, all things considered, but... Well, He's an easily triggered little mammal.]

it's okay, he's been through worse!

[perfectdisaster]

[ The sudden sight of bared teeth makes him jerk backwards reflexively, but where he should've pulled his arm back as well, he didn't. For all that he really isn't the most expressive guy out there, shock and pain are two sensations he's well accustomed to, and at the moment, they're written all over his face as claws sink into skin. He'd initially considered just carrying the raccoon to an available room, but given the reaction, he's really glad he'd discarded that thought.

Still, there are claws embedded in his arm and he doesn't want to pull it away and risk them tearing skin. Puncture wounds are bad enough, but they're easier to treat than bloody gashes. Despite everything though, his voice doesn't break from his usual flat tone. ]

You shouldn't be sleeping out here.

[beatupgrass]

No shit. [Rocket doesn't let go, leaving the situation at an impasse. His eyes are hazy and unfocused, as if every tiny bit of sobriety he has left in him is going into sheer instinct to keep his claws in this guy's arm, like he's worried what will happen if he lets go.

But he can't sit here like this forever, so with slow, deliberate wording, he explains the situation.]

I'm gonna let go of you now, and you're gonna back up. And you're gonna tell me who you are, and if I don't like the answer, I'm probably gonna take it out on your face. You got me?

[perfectdisaster]

[ There's never been anything in his training on how to calm an angry raccoon -probably because it's not something he'd have ever encountered at home- so he's not entirely sure what to say that would leave his face intact. His arm hurts though, so he'll do as he's told if it means that the claws release. ]

Fair enough, though I will defend myself if necessary.

[ Not that he's armed or anything, since his gun didn't exactly make the trip, but he knows what he's capable of if it comes down to it. The words weren't meant as a threat, just a statement of fact. ]

[beatupgrass]

Yeah, you do that. [Rocket feels that logic dictates that he shouldn't get to defend himself if he's One of Those People, but he's also still in the throes of alcohol.]

You a local or one of us... [he screws up his face, wrinkling his muzzle as he does so] ...refugees.

[perfectdisaster]

[ There's a part of him that wants to ask 'does he really look like he belongs in this place?' but then again, the guy is drunk, so he'll let it slide for now. Wouldn't do to piss the raccoon off at the moment. ]

Refugee. [ Whether that's what's wanted to be heard, he doesn't know, but right now, he doesn't care. Placating others isn't his thing. ] If this were my home, I'd be asleep.

[ ...in a freezer. Like a reusable ice pack that they could just take out when they needed and toss back afterward. Okay, maybe he'd made a really stupid decision and if there's ever a possibility that they can fix things for the various worlds and send him home, he might have to negotiate to have them drop him off before he agrees to let them use him like that? Trying to live a normal life instead of being a freezer-pop can't be that difficult, can it? ]

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket releases him and pulls back slightly, misinterpreting "I'd be asleep" as "It's late, but the party is still going, so I'm not."] It'sss not mornin' yet? [He yawns at the mere thought of being able to go back to sleep and licks his chops. Drunkenness doesn't give him much room to school his more animal-like behaviors.] Guess I better go back to the party before all the good booze is gone. [He tries to push him aside so he can get off the bench- it doesn't work, but he can slide off anyway.]

[perfectdisaster]

[ Shrugging off the puncture wounds -really, he's used to being injured by now- Heero raises an eyebrow, idly wondering just how much he had to drink. ]

Most people have already left. There isn't much of a party anymore.

[ Not that he'd been all that interested in it when it had been going on, preferring to keep to himself, but he doesn't want to be held responsible if something were to happen to this guy. ]

[beatupgrass]

But there's still alcohol, which is all I care about.

[He's very singleminded in his goal of Obtaining More Booze now that he's decided it's going to happen whether his potentially cybernetic liver has anything to say about it or not.] It's been a real shit couple of days, dude.

[He finds he can't really hobble much on two legs and drops down on all fours, trots ahead, gets dizzy, and then falls over onto the nice cool cobblestones with a groan.

Foolish.]

[perfectdisaster]

I won't argue that.

[ But watching the raccoon attempt to walk (this is the first time he's actually seen a raccoon, so the hobbling on two legs doesn't strike him as odd -for all he knows, they can do that) then fall over is honestly kind of sad. ]

Would you like some assistance? [ Normally, he wouldn't even bother to offer, but in a strange place surrounded by people he doesn't know, and without a mobile suit or weaponry to speak of, he can't afford to be standoffish. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket's growling into the cobblestones says yes, but the hand that shoots up to hopefully preempt anymore touching says FUCK NO.] I got it. I swear- I got it.

[He gets himself back onto his two hind legs and tries to reorient himself.] ...I might need to be... pointed in the right direction, though.

[perfectdisaster]

[ There's a pause as he debates the sanity of just picking him up anyway, but he likes his face just fine the way it is, so that's quickly off the table. That means all that's left for him to do is point the guy in the direction that he'd come from. ]

Unless they've all gone in for the night, it should be that way.

[ Okay, maybe he should tag along behind him anyway, just to be sure that he doesn't get eaten by something or walk into a door. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Tragically, both are likely options. And since most people have probably gone home for the night, it'll probably save him from wandering around aimlessly wondering where everyone went.]

Thanks. [He pushes himself unsteadily back on his feet.] So if you're not partyin', what're you even doin' out here?

[Since he isn't leaving just yet. Maybe he knows where the after-party is.]

[perfectdisaster]

I'm not tired. [ After everything that's happened, he's actually still very much awake. ] Besides, it's easier to slip in and out of places when most other people are distracted and not paying you any mind.

[ There isn't anything in particular he's searching for, but having a chance to explore without crowded streets and questioning glances is nice. One never knows when a knowledge of a place's layout will come in useful, after all. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket, on the other hand, looks kind of alarmed... and then curious, and then finally he decides he knows exactly what's going on here.] Oh I get you. You're one of those "under the cover of darkness" thieves, right? I like a little bit of a challenge. Gives it more of a rush.

[perfectdisaster]

[ He can't help but sigh. This is going to be a real picnic. ]

I'm not a thief.

[ Though, he has stolen missiles, and an ambulance, and mobile suits, and a few uniforms from guards, and... okay, maybe he could technically be considered a thief. ]

I... [ In all honesty, he's not entirely certain what he'd be considered. A pilot? His mobile suit was destroyed and he hasn't had one since. A Preventer? He'd only agreed to help them because of Relena and never actually signed on. A civilian? Yeah, right. A weapon? Everyone seemed to want to tell him that he wasn't, and they didn't like when he said it or lived by that belief. ] ...I don't know what I am.

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket goes quiet for a second, the only sound the claws on his feet clicking on the cobblestones.] That's relateable, but it's cool. Makes it easier to carve your own niche eventually. You got no expectations, nothin' to live up to. 'S great.

[He really needs another drink. His buzz is fading into the melancholic.]

[perfectdisaster]

[ He may not be the most socially adept, but he knows enough to know when to let a subject drop... and that's when it skirts into depressing territory. Which he's pretty sure this has, for both of them. ]

What will you do if the party's over?

[ Besides being disappointed. ]

[beatupgrass]

Uhhh...

[Rocket scratches his chin.] Iiii haven't actually thought that far ahead, to be honest.

[Make his own party? Go back to sleep? Find out where Peter ran off to? Endless possibilities, those...]