❪ event ❫ THE DESCENT: PART ONE.

[natha]

THE PROLOGUE     Your sleep on the night of the 15th is not a restful one, unfortunately. It’s unclear whether you are in a state of half-wakefulness, or dreaming. The voices you hear certainly sound very real. What is it, Sael? —Is everyone asleep?! Every one, yes. Sael, it appears you do not have good news to deliver...? N-No! I don’t know how it slipped past us, but there’s something powerful coming this way. Something hostile. I can barely keep the core systems online! ... I don't know what to do... I see... and we cannot protect Thesa and Alria in addition to transferring the Refugees to Olympia. This force, they waited for this moment. They knew I have been Intervening, and that I have become weak from such Interventions— ... We've been had. It cannot be helped. To save the Refugees on the Stations, we must eject the awoken unto El Nysa. My remaining energy shall go into shielding Thesa— left defenseless, every being we have saved on this station will perish... Sael, where is the ideal location for the landing? Hmm. There aren’t any people within a ten mile radius of The Outlook, and there shouldn’t be any for a few more days. I think that’s the best location right now. Very well. Instruct Zasere and Roman to begin preparations for an emergency eject. This is the only way we can save everyone. I am counting on you to ward off the enemy on the space front. The rest... is up to our Refugees. The alarms are blaring. It shouts against your eardrums, calling you to wake again. This time, you are in new pod, strapped down completely and cushioned tightly against the walls. In truth, you had no idea when you’d gone to sleep, but it is reminiscent of when you had been saved from the force of the Storm. A voice greets you when you come to, while the conversation between Darma and Sael is still fresh on your mind. Despite their voices playing like an old tune in your memory, you still know it is something that happened. Something has gone terribly wrong. You hear Darma speak, her voice loud in your head. Fellow Refugee, I wake you with regrettable news. A force equal to our own is attempting to engage Thesa, no doubt to steal the souls contained here. My energy is near depleted with this last Intervention, so I cannot send you to the grounds safely as originally intended. However, there is hope yet.This power shall instead shield Thesa and Alria — and believe in me when I swear no one shall be hurt. Your loved ones are safe with us. —Unfortunately, that is at your expense. Your descent will not be an easy one. This pod that contains you shall pierce through El Nysa's atmosphere and land you on an island west of Olympia, simply called The Outlook. Travel east. Find the West Outpost, then continue east until you find the Olympian North Gate. There is a method to this madness. You shall be sent in waves. The inhumanly strong shall be first. The parachute will soften the landing, but I am aware of all your capabilities. The first wave will survive the drop, and will work tirelessly to secure the others. Find your bearings, and ensure the safety of the second wave. They are the healers and medics. Catch their pods, ease their landings, make certain that they shall not be harmed, because you will need them for your wounds. The third wave are your strongmen. They shall help clear the debris and take people to safety, making way for the fourth wave, those can conjure magic to help. Bring everyone to a safe distance. A supply drop will follow soon after; it shall contain tents and tools that will be useful for the long night. The fifth and sixth waves are largely vulnerable humans. With your combined efforts, you shall survive this great misfortune. Forgive us, Refugee. Leave the Moons to us, my promise to you is still in tact— focus on what you can do for others like you. Helping at least two (2) Refugees will earn you one (1) Natha REP. Threads must be AC length to qualify, and can be submitted HERE by JULY 31st. THE DESCENT     FIRST WAVE. The instructions are clear. Those who are a part of the First Wave should be equipped with physical strength and fortitude to survive the drop or the power to regenerate and heal their own wounds. While the pods are already designed to cushion some of the impact, as this is the first group, it will likely to be the most jarring. In all of the waves, some of the pods will malfunction and offer no cushion at all. They will be expected to quickly find their bearings. Their mission isn’t simply just landing, after all. The first wave will be expected to help the next wave, and the wave after that. Whether through their abilities or brute strength, they will be expected to help soften the landing for those who are falling. They will also be expected to pry open hatches, carry people to safety, and to just... survive. It’s not always easy being first. SECOND WAVE. Within the next hour, it’s time for the Second Wave to make their descent. You were selected based upon your aptitude for healing and/or being able to administer first aid. Perhaps you can help the tired and weary. Maybe those who have landed have have strength, but no stamina. Either way, it may be unwise to exhaust all their abilities at once. The night is long, and you may want to conserve their energy for the next waves to come. At least you’ll have help in getting settled. THIRD WAVE. Akin to the First Wave, the Third Wave will possess some durability, and some manner of strength, making you a reliable ally. Especially in a time of crisis... Or so we hope. While the landing is tough, and some of you may need first aid. As soon as you’re all healed up, you’ll have no time to dawdle. Your help is required. “Please help those still trapped in pods. Carry those unconscious to safety. Lift debris, and rescue all you can.” May be a vague message still stuck in the back of your head. Something whispered to you while you were just waking. Well, might as well roll with it. It’s the best shot you have, after all. FOURTH WAVE. Those in the Fourth Wave, as Darma projects, were selected due to the versatility of their abilities. No one expects one man to do the same as the next. Rather, that’s precisely the point: to be different. To be able to accomplish something unique. While one individual may be blessed with powers that assist in putting out fires, another may have the ability to shield those from oncoming debris. Maybe one even has the ability to channel all of these. Regardless, it’s up to you and your quick wits to see what tasks are open. It’ll take some coordination, especially as there are more people mixing into the fray, but, you can do it, can’t you? FIFTH WAVE. If you are in the Fifth Wave it is likely that you have a specific power or ability. One that isn’t easily channeled or called upon. Or, perhaps, you were merely placed here for insurance. Whatever the case if, your expertise will presently be put to the test. Maybe you’re quite proficient in survival skills, and you’re already eyeing the supplies that were dropped between the Fourth Wave and now. Goods all ready to be salvaged. Okay, maybe some can’t, but as they say, “it’s the thought that counts.” Besides, the injured from earlier certainly need a space to rest, and camp isn’t going to make itself. Regardless, maybe you feel more comfortable joining in the efforts to assist those who still require it. Whatever it is, you are sure to find your place and use. Darma obviously held the same faith. FINAL WAVE. The Final Wave is fortunate in a variety of ways. With Thesa Station a bit more stabilized, Darma utilizes the last bit of her powers in insuring that these last remaining pods are met with the softest landing, right beside the fifth, that is. The fragility of life is nothing she is unfamiliar with, after all. Still, that isn’t to say nothing is expected of you. Most of the individuals that have dropped earlier will likely be exhausted. An hour stretched between each one, makes several hours for the first couple of waves. They'll need a place to relax. You will act as the final group of helpers. Settle into whatever role feels best for you. Are you an excellent cook? Great at rationing supplies? Perhaps, you have a secret skill in ______ that might come in handy here? Or, maybe, despite the gentler landing you still managed to get hurt. The sky's the limit, and you got this! Meanwhile, in the distant kingdom of Olympia, the Empress and her loyal subject discuss matters late into the night... I’ll have the results of that dragon toxin study ready for you soon, Your Highness. I just need a few helpers to— oh wow, is that a meteor shower? Oh yes, it appears so. How beautiful.. hehe. Let us thank Thesa for this blessing. GATHER YOUR BEARINGS     All in all, the descent lasts for nearly seven hours. After the deployment of the last wave of refugees, it’s only natural that you may be feeling pretty worn out. A. Within the remains of the pods, Refugees will find basic camping supplies such as small tents, sleeping bags, and compasses. Not all of the supplies remain intact, thanks to the impact of the crash. But, sharing resources will ensure there is enough for everyone to rest for the night. Can you really in good conscience leave that stranger next to you without shelter? B. Although you may be tired after such a life-threatening ordeal, there is still work to be done to ensure your survival. Fortunately, it works out because now there are plenty of empty hands. There are stray debris and metal parts that should be collected and disposed of. There's firewood that needs to be collected, and campfires to upkeep. The nights in the Outlook are particularly chilly, and so it will be imperative to keep warm! C. Your clothes are tattered or too bloodied to sleep on with comfortably. Fortunately, Darma thought ahead. There will be various types of clothing provided, mostly robes that resemble her own in earthy tones, all to help them camouflage you for your next big adventure. FINAL OOC NOTE     This INTRO event will be broken up into three parts! Please keep this in mind when plotting your threads/tag load. PART 2 will be posted on JULY 18TH and PART 3 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 currently down, as Sael must concentrate all of his efforts on warding off the invading force. Characters may still message each other's personal IC inboxes. Submit two (2) AC-eligible threads from this log for one (1) Natha Orbiter REP point here by JULY 31ST. Recommended Listening: Alex & TOKYO Rose QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● world ● map ● reputation ● npcs taken ● reserves ● application calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

buffy summers (ota - first wave)

[slay]

I. First Wave / ota from the first wave

[ Rough landing? Understatement of the century. The objective had sounded so easy up on the station — survive — but Buffy hoped to hell that her equipment had just malfunctioned. Were the rest really supposed to survive something like that? Maybe they all had powers of their own, but she'd always assumed Slayers were a special kind of durable. Sacred calling and all.

Kicking off the hatch of her pod, which had dented under contact with the hillside, Buffy climbed out and wiped the blood off her face. Her arm was sore. Broken? It was hard to say.

There wasn't a lot of time, but if they were all similarly battered, they'd have to work together. She headed for the closest pods first, offering a hand to anyone who was willing to take it — and a few who weren't. ]

This will go more smoothly if we work together. [ Then, more honestly, ] I don't know about you, but catching a projectile coming out of orbit will be a new exercise for me.

II. Subsequent Waves / ota

[ She gets the hang of ripping open hatch doors that don't want to give way after the first one. There's a trick to it, like strong-arming any lock. You have to find the right point of leverage.

The metal door comes away from its hinges with a clank. She drops it like the lid of a jar, effortless, and reaches her free hand, injured arm and all, in to help whoever's tucked inside climb out. ]

How's your equipment?

III. Camping out / ota

[ Tucked away between two tents, with the first day on-planet winding down, Buffy took her equipment between two tents to get a chance to change. The tents themselves were too cramped for it, at least with her limited mobility. Even with her arm looked at and healing, it took ginger effort to strip herself out of the clothes she'd worn down. They were the last outfit she had from Earth, from home, and she looked disdainfully at the robes waiting for her. ]

When in Rome. [ But the words came out bitter. ] If Rome was tacky and shapeless.

first wave here we go

[speeds]

[ The only indication to show that he's had just as rough of a landing (made worse by trying to beat the punch and get out of the pod before crashing down) is his clothing that has ripped in one or two places. Everything else looks as normal by now, and he isn't even in pain anymore.

He doesn't take the offered hand, though he does step away from the scrap metal left behind him from where his own pod fell. ]

I can't say I'm used to any of this. Trees and mountains are the highest I've gone before.

[ There's an uncomfortable pause as he looks away from here towards the direction they just came from. ]

You're already injured.

[ He doesn't have to look to tell, but thankfully the blood is on her face. She might have wiped it off, but a little still shows underneath as it heals. ]

It shouldn't be too long before more are coming in, we might have to think quickly on how to catch them. Did you have any ideas?

[slay]

We can't all have your good luck.

[ She looks him over pointedly, huffing out a breath. Unconsciously, she rests her hand on the break in her arm. It's minor. Not even visible. But the ache is real. It's going to hinder her. ]

If this is going to work, we need to take stock of what all of us are capable of. They wouldn't have chosen us if we couldn't do it. Maybe pair the strongest up for the catch, set the rest to pulling people free.

[speeds]

I'm not entirely sure I'd call it... luck.

[ It isn't lucky he's still alive, after all. At least, that's the way he's seen it for a while now. He doesn't miss the way she reaches for her arm, but he doesn't bring it up this time. ]

Catching them might be difficult, but I'm fast enough to get up there before they drop.

[ He's quicker than he is strong anyway, at least compared to others in his family. ]

iii

[refashioned]

Let's just hope that these robes are just ... situational. Thematic. Mood setting. [Veronica feels fairly foolish in her set of robes, even if she's someone who's fond of the appropriate cloak and fur-lined thing back home. These are neither of those. They're loose and not that great, and she finds some relief in finding someone who is seemingly like-minded.

Well, like-minded and apart from her crew of "wow we are ill-prepared, aren't we?" Riverdale friends.]

Though ... if there are any left over, we might be able to rig up a belt to tie around the middle. It could be their saving grace.

[slay]

[ Imagining it gets Buffy nodding along slowly — dubious, still, but thoughtful. ]

Some strappy sandals, a drastically altered hemline, and you might be onto something. Otherwise, the only mood these are setting? Is cult.

[refashioned]

Sure, they're cult-like, but what cults shoot you down from the sky with terrifying ease in hope that you'll just love what they have to offer? Usually, they lull you in with a sense of security ... I don't think space goop and metal walls really count.

[She could be wrong, though. Maybe this is some creepy alien version of a cult.

... Which sounds absolutely awful, considering.]

ii

[ayes]

[The girl inside the pod seems pale and a little rattled, not least of which by the fact that the metal door of her pod has literally been wrenched open by a girl who doesn't seem that much older than her. That's unexpected.

And then...] Equipment? We were supposed to have equipment? [Now she's feeling like she did something wrong.] I just woke up in this pod!

[slay]

Well, apparently, they packed us presents when they crammed us in.

[ She holds out a hand to You. ] Come on. Let's get you clear and we can search your pod for it together.

[ayes]

[You reaches up to take Buffy's hand, scrambling out of the pod; when she gets upright, her knees almost buckle beneath her for a split second, but she catches her balance.] --I'm okay! I'm okay. I think my legs had to remember how to walk for a second, that's all.

At least they sent us down here with supplies. Where are they inside? [Also, did you really open that door all by yourself? We can ask that later.]

iii

[yourhatred]

Are they so bad?

[To be fair, 'tacky' and 'shapeless' could basically describe most outfits Itachi had worn since he was a kid. Ninja weren't always known for their fashion sense, and Akatsuki had been no different. He'd spent many years in cloud printed robes with painted nails.

He keeps his back to her, having realized she was potentially changing and not wanting to be rude about it.]

[slay]

They are. They are so bad.

[ She makes a face, but hastens to pull it on her now that she realizes she's in mixed company. A few hasty glances over her shoulder, at least, assure her that he's being Gentlemanly. ]

Do normal people wear this kind of stuff where you come from?

I'm only now on season 3 of my first Buffy watch, please forgive me.

[yourhatred]

Not typically. Some ninja might.

[Fashion varied from village to village and he didn't have much to do with any of it. He has a feeling she wouldn't care for the typical ninja attire. To him, clothes had always just been something to cover himself. He wore what his clan wore, what his fellow ninja wore, or (such as in this case) what he was handed.]

But I think all you need in this situation is something practical.

III

[dodgingbullets]

[Jane has found privacy in the vicinity as well, though she doesn't see the girl, as she's turned the other way.

Her right elbow has been injured when her pod landed on its side, and the sleeve of her blouse, now on the ground by her feet, is ruined with blood. She, too, is careful with her movements.

At Buffy's remark, Jane gives an agreeing nod that is paired with a slight shrug.]

It's... clean. Yeah? [And here we have a moment of Jane looking on the bright side.

She raises her good arm to allow for the sleeve to slip past it.] That's one down. [She says to herself with a hint of pain pushing through her tone.]

[slay]

[ That sounded like thinly veiled pain, so Buffy glances back, concern writ across her expression. She considers not saying anything — none of her business, after all — but she's never been good at that. ]

Have you found any of the second wavers? They should be able to look you over.

[dodgingbullets]

[Jane looks back for a brief moment as she reaches behind her for the other sleeve.] Yeah. [She winces slightly as she moves with caution.]

Uhh, Miller. [She gestures to the small bandage wrapped neatly around her elbow before it disappears into the sleeve. She gives herself a beat to adjust the robe before continuing.]

He helped me out after I left that pod. [That pod, because something that has failed her doesn't belong to her anymore. Still, her voice is smoother than her signature tone of firmness. Perhaps because she's exhausted - or perhaps it's because the hospitality of the people she's encountered has settled her.

She turns her head to utilize her peripherals, but doesn't peek.]

I'm Jane.

i.

[zephrah]

No, yeah, it's--this will be a first. For me. Also.

[ Keyleth is shaken and a little dirty, clothes spotted with suit and antlers askew, but she's already poured some healing into herself, so at least she can move without much pain. The little blonde that offered her a hand up doesn't look like she can say the same. ]

Oh, hey! You're bleeding. I can fix that.

[ Her hands glow with a faint green energy as she hold a Cure Wounds spell, waiting for permission. ]

It won't hurt, I promise! We'll all do better if we're at our best.

[slay]

Whoa.

[ She instinctively bristles at the sight of the magic glow, as if preparing herself for a confrontation of some kind, but then she quickly disarms. Right. Friendly. It's been hard to let her guard down, lately. ]

Magic. That's ... spiffy. [ She rubs her more-injured arm. ] Don't these things usually come with a consent form?

[zephrah]

[ Keyleth blinks a few times, clearly thrown by the question. ]

Um. No? I mean, you can say no of course! [ But why would you?? This is good, pure, mother nature magic at its finest, really! ] It really doesn't hurt, though, I promise! It feels nice! Like...like drinking warm tea!

ii

[romancekiller]

[clarke is already out and about since she had a bit of help getting out of her pod already but now she is on a mission to help out whoever else she can. she was rummaging through her pod for supplies to see what was still in tact and so far it all seemed to be in good shape including the first aid kit she found. she was just pulling it out when she hears someone calling out to her. it takes her a moment for her to even register that they were talking to her specifically until she steps away from the pod, turning around to face the other girl] Oh— yeah, I guess I got lucky that my equipment seems to all be in tact but— [she frowns slightly as she notices the blood and the fact she was injured] Are you okay?

[slay]

Oh. [ Buffy reaches up with the wrong hand, straining her broken arm and wincing as she touches that hand to her face where she got cut in the tumble down. ] First wave. It's just a scratch, really.

[romancekiller]

[clarke stands up and moves closer to her with her focus more on the injuries of the other girl. it doesn't escape her notice that she seems to be in pain despite brushing it off and really that's an excuse that she has heard more than a few times from people] Yeah, it doesn't look like just a scratch to me.

I have medical training so I can look over your injuries, if you'll let me.

II

[lushly]

[The sensation of freefalling, hurtling wildly through the air to crash into the ground had been fitting for how it felt, waking up on the station, finding out her world was gone and the people she loved - her family - were asleep. The stillness of the pod interior in the immediate after of crashing is the first moment of respite since it started, no matter the ringing in her ears, the ache in her chest. She covers her face with both hands, palms pressing over her eyes, and lets herself feel the burn of oncoming tears for one moment.

Then she pushes it aside. Braces herself to start kicking on the door, an effort that might have been enough, eventually, if the noise of it hadn't drawn a rescuer. The rush of fresh air as the pod door is ripped open is a relief, and she's swallowing deep breaths of it even as she takes the offered hand, letting herself be pulled up into the light.]

Intact.

[It's a distracted answer, looking around, taking in the landscape of other crashed pods, other people moving amongst them. And then looking at her rescuer properly, frowning concerned as soon as she sees the blood on her face.]

You're hurt.

[She hasn't let go of the woman's hand, unconsciously using the contact to support herself in the immediate turmoil of the situation.]

[slay]

Had worse.

[ It's more matter-of-fact than self-pitying, despite the hint of wistfulness to it. That's just the facts when you're the Slayer. You get hurt. ]

What about you? [ She looks Izzy over then, and well, who can't help but gawk a little — even at a time like this — when looking Izzy over. It's more surprise than anything, and it fades quickly. ] All your pieces still attached?

[lushly]

I'm fine. [Just as automatic, as matter-of-fact, before she's even taken a moment to really know the answer. She glances down at herself belatedly, but nothing hurts, and she has her stele if she needs it.] Just shaken up.

[She finally lets go of the woman's hand, reaching up to sweep her hair back from her face. A missing piece of equipment: a hairtie. But Izzy had never been the type to keep one on her wrist, usually committed to whatever hair style she'd chosen for the duration of the day (or night). Bizarrely, it's that thought that suddenly makes her feel completely and utterly unprepared for what's happening. The smile she gives is tinged wry, glancing back at the cracked open pod.]

This definitely isn't how I usually make an entrance.