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ɴᴀᴛʜᴀ orbiters ❰ mod collective ❱ ([personal profile] natha) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs2018-04-09 07:55 pm
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( introlog #5 ) strangerer things

You have spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Perhaps you've made some friends (or maybe an enemy or two). Either way, you aren't expected to spend all of your time on the Station. El Nysa needs you, after all, and you promised you'd help the planet thrive. Are you ready?

Submit an AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 OLYMPIA REP POINTS OR 2 WYVER REP POINTS, respectively, HERE or HERE.

THESA STATION    
All refugees on the station are called to the hangar where a large-scale teleporter has been set up; everyone will be sent to the planet together. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait. Before they depart, all new refugees will be given a starter kit!

You may have heard about earlier technical difficulties, but don't worry. I promise everything is in perfect working order this time. I'd say I tested it myself, but since that's not exactly possible, you'll just have to trust me! (Please.)

The older refugees will also be there to guide you to ensure no one is left confused... or behind. Make sure you wait for them — I've been detecting something odd so I'll be having them meet you at the landing site. Good luck, refugees! Not that you'll be needing it or anything...

The arrays begin to hum and glow, quickly building into a brilliant wash of light. It creates a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa. With the night sky as a canvas, the beam can be seen all the way from Olympia and Wyver — a view that has the natives whispering of blessings.

As a sudden but beautiful aurora splays across the sky, the refugees down on the planet receive a message asking them to travel to the landing site — and warning them to prepare for what may come of the strange readings Zasere's gotten from the teleport itself.
ON A BEAM OF LIGHT    

Traveling through the light leaves the impression of blinding starlight, a strange sense of weightlessness, and a disorienting moment of total sensory deprivation. The radiance of your teleport hangs bright in the sky above you, a shimmering aurora that reflects off the calm waters below, visible for miles all around.

You've landed on a peninsula to the east of the South Outpost. There's little here — scattered trees on spring-barren plains, with a few overgrown, dilapidated structures poking out of the brush. All is quiet save for the keening of animals and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. This lonely desolation is hardly the bustling cities and vibrant cultures you were promised back on the station...
BY CAMPFIRE'S GLOW. But waiting for you is a group of your predecessors, and with them, a veritable tent city, with portable stoves, coolers of food and drink, comfortable bedrolls, and cheerful rings of bonfires — all that you need to make merry of the night, courtesy of Overseer Voss, who has, thanks to his interest in blessed meteorological phenomena and refugees, decided to make a holy expedition of the affair.

Settle in, meet new comrades, and enjoy yourself, for you've safely completed your journey. But don't wander too far from the fires — the dark is closing in, and there's a strange, electric feeling in the air, the scent of ozone drifting on the breeze. And what were those odd readings Zasere mentioned?



A SHEPHERD OVER THE FLOCK. The spring sun dawns on a grey morning, already burning away the fog rolling in off the sea. It quickly becomes apparent that Voss and his entourage of acolytes have been up for hours, hard at work. They've set up a brightly-draped stage and a travel pulpit, magically enchanted to amplify his voice, and as the sun breaks over the horizon, Voss is all set to do what he does best: proselytize.

As our Goddess has sent Her blessing once before to herald the coming of those touched by Her light, so She has done once again! Here you see them, those surrounded by the light of our Goddess, each of them bearing the mark upon their skin of Her holiest of hands! Do you not see? Do none among you bear witness to the righteousness of Her message? Perhaps this is why our people have shamed themselves in front of our Goddess—

[ He continues for another 15 minutes... ]

Nevertheless. See you them before us now! See them as they are, coming to our gates with Her reminder, that these people must be treated with the utmost respect and care. Thesa's divinity is not to be treated with such flagrant disregard! Those who She chooses are not ours to use as mindless fodder, to hurt, to torture — shame upon those who allowed such deeds to shame us under Her watchful gaze!

To those of you who have just arrived here on our doorstep, be not afraid! The Temples of Thesa welcome you to our home with hearts and minds open! Should you ever find yourself in need of solace, seek out the Temples, as there are no greater allies to you than those of us within the Temple walls. You are welcome all to Olympia!


As he steps away from the enchanted podium, he can be heard saying aside to an acolyte, "How was that? Heavy on the shame, but I think it went well!" While he will not leave the area immediately, his acolytes will politely turn away attempts to speak with him and remind anyone interested that they can leave a message at the Temples.
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS    

Despite going off without hitch, the new refugees' arrival isn't entirely without incident. It seems that the "blessed" beam of light that brought the refugees down to El Nysa brought something else along with it — a sliver of the Storm. At least the beam was short enough that only a small fraction managed to squeeze through.

But it's enough to wreak a little havoc around the landing site and along the road back toward Olympia and Wyver — and even, for a few days, in the cities themselves.
THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. The Storm is an undeniably destructive force, and that's proven with this small sliver's effect as it ripples across the continent. While there's no visible sign of its presence, strange phenomena soon begin to appear, corresponding with Zasere's odd readings.

They're innocuous little things at first. A sudden silence, animals going quiet, insects stilling. All technology, no matter how advanced, ceases working. You discover when you check with a friend, the clock on your phone is twelve minutes slow even though you'd swear only a minute had passed — time missing. Walking through the woods takes longer than it should when brushing past one bush leads to brushing past that same bush again — and again, and again, the area looping on itself. It keeps you trapped, going in circles for minutes, even hours, before finally releasing you in a random direction.

Or perhaps you'll feel a sense of deja vu, like you've walked down this road, taken this turn, seen that bird fly from this branch before. This is the second time that cat has crossed your path. The person you're meeting, you already know their name; you're certain you've already met.



WE GOT COWS. The Storm sliver also ushers in sudden, localized weather anomalies — heavy storms, blizzards, strong winds, and more. Affected areas range from just a few feet wide to nearly half a mile. One minute, the sky may be sunny and clear, but the next dark storm clouds roll in, unleashing torrential rain. Small tornadoes surge along the road, kicking up winds strong enough to knock people over and carry objects away. Hail hurtles down from the sky, but only in a ten foot radius. Temperatures fluctuate wildly between one extreme and the next, from heat waves to cold snaps. Soupy fog blankets the area, thick enough that you can barely see your hand in front of your face. Good luck finding your way!



FORGETTING IS SO LONG. The visions come on suddenly and with very little warning. One second, you're carrying on as normal — but the next, you blink and find yourself (and anyone near you) somewhere else completely. You may recognize this place as a moment from the past, one that you lived through. It's a memory, your memory, and it now replays around you in exceptional detail, unnervingly lifelike. Or you may not recognize it at all. It might belong to the person next to you, or to someone else entirely — a memory that the Storm has swallowed up.

Either way, the scene plays out just as it once did, and there's nothing you can do to stop it — or escape it. The memory surrounds you to no end: every door you open leads nowhere, every hallway you turn down continues on forever, every horizon you flee toward hangs just out of reach. And linger too long or turn the wrong corner, and you may find yourself abruptly stuck in a completely different memory. It's almost tempting, then, to give up, to let the past sweep you away...

But this isn't the full might of the Storm. Look closely, and you can see that in the walls of this trap, there are minute, hairline cracks, a facade of fractured glass. Imperfections in the memory where the real world is breaking through. It seems the only way to escape these memories is to find those cracks and break through them — by force, by will, or by some other method entirely.
DECISIONS, DECISIONS...    

The time is coming to make a choice — perhaps not a permanent choice, but unless you want to spend the rest of your nights out under the stars, you'll need to pick which city you will initially spend your time in. On the horizon, you will see that people have arrived to help you make that decision...
A FORK IN THE ROAD. Refugees and the hyper-religious wishing to hear Voss speak are not the only ones out and about under the light of the aurora. Citizens of both Olympia and Wyver have flocked to a point on the road midway between the cities and where the refugees have appeared, and they all have the same goal in mind: convincing the newcomers who have just descended in the blessed light of Thesa to come to their city and not the other.

They've come with bribes — that is, examples of what their cities have to offer. If you spent much time at the exhibition up on Thesa Station, you might recognize some of what's being shown off, though the offerings here are markedly more tangible, and shown off by hawkers wearing substantially fewer clothes.

A herd of pegasi accompanies the Olympians, while a line of flying serpents is stabled at a tent bearing Wyver colors. Refugees are given the chance to experience solo flights and are told that if they prove their loyalty, they may have the privilege of owning such fine beasts one day themselves. The Olympians have also brought couture clothing, jewelry, and makeup to offer a taste of Olympian splendor, while the Wyver delegation has brought along fine weapons, sense-enhancing jungle plants, and small vials of diluted dragon’s blood (drinking confers a temporary boost in strength) to demonstrate their might. The Olympians speak proudly of the glory of the Temples of Thesa; the Wyverns speak of the Volkkran Pact and inform newcomers that they can make a pilgrimage to the summit of Namarak Mountain at the next full moon.

This is as good a time as any to compare your plans with others around you and exchange contact information before going your separate ways with people who are going to the city you are not. When you’re ready to go, don’t worry about safe passage — the natives of each city will gladly escort you there in luxury.



OF WHITE AND GOLD. The people of Olympia are ecstatic that you’ve come to join them... So much so that they’ve prepared a grand tour of the city for the new arrivals. You will be introduced to the major businesses in the city, including businesses that they are proud to point out were founded by refugees.

Refugees who have been here for some time already are encouraged to pair up with newcomers to introduce them to the parts of the city they like best. To facilitate this, they’ve made arrangements with many of the business owners: new refugees who visit their shops (and older refugees who escort them) are given discounts!

Just a few examples of many: the Wyvernest offers free desserts to first time visitors with the purchase of a drink, refugees who visit the Silk Wyrms can have one custom (though not exceedingly expensive) outfit made for them for free, and visitors to Shades Darker are offered a half-hour session with one of the prostitutes at half price… or access to a private room, if they seem to have taken a shine to one of their companions on the tour.

Lastly, tour guides will point out that over the course of the next week, the train to Flona Cove will allow new refugees to board for free so that they can experience the seaside for themselves. With the weather finally starting to warm, this is as good a time as any for a visit to the beach, isn’t it?



OF RED AND BLACK. Life in Wyver is typically a sink-or-swim sort of experience — but in light of the valor recently displayed by their predecessors, the natives are now more willing to assist in getting newcomers settled. The entire journey here they have been talking up the virtues of their city… and now is the time to show everything that's on offer.

The well-known businesses in the city are prepared for the influx of newcomers. Some are giving out discounted samples of their products while others are offering a more hands-on experience: in exchange for working a few hours, they will give training in whatever task is being performed.

At the Forged, newcomers can learn the basics of crafting simple weapons (and take one of their successes home), while visitors to spas near the lagoons are trained in the art of massage. Those who wander to Falmi’s Ring can learn the art of pugilism or how to keep (and fix) books if they're more inclined to the gambling that goes on. Newcomers interested in Wyver's dragons can get hands-on experience at the Fields of the Exalted's nursery. While they walk from place to place, a guide may point out a job posting from Highwind Hires, noting that refugees can make a name for themselves outside official channels.

The last stop on the tour is the Undergrowth. The guides speak of the jungle in reverent tones and caution new refugees not to wander too far in. They warn never to explore alone, but also urge refugees to take time to familiarize themselves with it; after all, the jungle is an important part of life in Wyver, and those who are going to be living here should understand it as well as they do.
You've chosen your path, refugee, but that doesn't necessarily make it a permanent one. Watch out for the strange effects of the Storm, which linger still in the two cities and everywhere in between for the next few days before dissipating just as mysteriously as they came, but otherwise enjoy the welcome and make yourself at home — after all, this is home now.
FINAL OOC NOTES    
An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 REP POINTS FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE AND HERE RESPECTIVELY BY APRIL 29th 11:59 PM EST.

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steponme: sad, blush (♩ Oh let the bullets fly)

[personal profile] steponme 2018-04-12 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
[How does he respond to all this? He can tell right away that this situation is being misinterpreted. He doesn't deserve this pity, this kindness... but he deserved this punishment. He deserved worse than this, if such things were possible.]

[Truly the only silver lining is that the scene never goes any further, never showing where Shell enjoyed the punishment, for all the pain that it caused him. For him to be revealed as such a shameful creature... that would be too much.]


I-I'm sorry. You don't have to-- y-you shouldn't have to be seeing this. No one should.
meinwaifu: (That's surprising ♪)

[personal profile] meinwaifu 2018-04-12 07:25 am (UTC)(link)
[Mipha you can't just pull out a line like that when he's teasing??? It causes his own expression to falter, the grip of his arm holding her up to tighten ever so slightly--]

[But the shift in scenery isn't really going to give him a chance to respond. Instead, he directs them down to what appears to be the main entrance to the domain, setting her back down carefully as his familiar returns to a normal bat-like form and perches on his shoulder.]


...it truly is impressive, even from down here. [Ruta, he means, his gaze likewise pointed at the mecha and the mysterious beam of light it appears to be projecting.] Do you suppose we've simply been taken to a different memory, then? That would explain the shift in time.
meinwaifu: (I read it for the plot ♪)

[personal profile] meinwaifu 2018-04-12 07:29 am (UTC)(link)
You're assuming I would have -- but I was perfectly in control!

[--n-not enough to avoid being caught by Diamond though, but just ignore that.]

Ah-- but a theme park is a place where one can enjoy such thrills through specially crafted machines! Though in a much safer environment. It's unfortunate, but the level of technology here isn't quite on par with what I'm familiar with from home.
icingonthecake: (i gotta... go)

[personal profile] icingonthecake 2018-04-12 07:35 am (UTC)(link)
It's odd to stand on this side of the fence, he thinks. Usually he's the one being absurd to try and cajole a laugh out of someone else, or waxing cheesy philosophical to get someone to cheer up a bit. He's usually good at keeping his own demons to himself, but having them put on display like that has a tendency to throw one for a loop.

Glancing down when Ryoko wipes her thumbs on his coat, he lifts his eyes and meets her gaze, one eyebrow arched.

"Thanks, my coat was a little drool-deficient this week," he says, shaking his head, and then presses his fingertips into his cheeks to rub out the stretched feeling. "Droopy, huh?" he echoes, rolling his shoulders backward uncomfortably. He sighs and then folds his arms, a little defensive.

Axel does not talk about himself. He doesn't talk about himself, his past, his problems, and certainly not about his mistakes. Oh, sure, he's made enough of them to write several books, but they're never getting published, because talking about them means they're real and he can't pretend they never happened. But then... that's the whole point, right? If he doesn't own them, how can he rectify them? And since the scene has already played out, his own image unmistakably there in plain sight and bright colors, there's no pretending his way out of it.

"That was... a stupid decision," he says finally, pulling at the back of his neck, "that in the end was just one domino in a long string of them, leading to the loss of someone important."
idealisme: (Au grand vent de la liberté)

[personal profile] idealisme 2018-04-12 07:39 am (UTC)(link)
[That puts a halt to the whirl of questions in his head. Had he voiced a complaint? No.

It's bizarre. An anomaly in his life. Enjolras knows himself to be difficult. He is a man with a cause who holds himself and those around him to standards far higher than the world demands. It is not easy for him- it is impossible for his friends. All of them have complained or lamented or protested the standards he asks of them.

But not Grantaire. Is the scowl still there? Enjolras has been staring at the man as he thinks and tries to think and tries to remember.

There's something just there, a revelation whose shape he can almost make out the contours of but the content of which escapes him. Perhaps if he were more clear-minded he'd grasp it (perhaps if he were more clear-minded he'd never get even as close as this)

He might take his hand again. He might ask for that soft gaze to turn on him. He might speak-]
You should complain. I cannot force you to be who you're not. I cannot force the world to be what it is not. Or what it is not yet.

[The thought is gone. He releases.]
assailed: (pic#11927773)

killian jones | ouat

[personal profile] assailed 2018-04-12 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
a. campfires and shepherds

[ At some point these sorts of things have stopped being surprising to Killian Jones. As man who once lived in the Enchanted Forest only to find his home in Storybrooke this sort of travel isn't much for him to wrap his head around. He's been through portals created by magical beans. This is far more technological in it's efforts, but it doesn't leave him in awe. He simply accepts it as part of his new sort of norm. Cell phones and televisions were strange for him. At this point more gadgets would only be more things on the list for him to master.

Camping though among the wildness is what he's familiar with. Somewhat. Most of his life has been spent at the sea, but he's no stranger to this. Surviving. This is quite the welcome though. It's a relief not to have to set up camp themselves. But Killian does engage with his fellow arrivals if only to find word of where his wife might possibly be. He's a dedicated man when he wants to be.

The ones who were here before their arrival are unsettling, but only because Killian doesn't know their intentions. He's been through far too much to truly just accept "good intentions", but at the same time Emma's family has taught him some trust. He's in between a rock and a hard place. They seem to have made things quite comfortable for their new arrivals and Killian has no problem settling in despite the strange announcement come morning. He's an odd fellow, but he's not the biggest blowhard he's seen in his time roaming the lands. He simply tunes him out until things settle down ]


b. of white and gold

[ He's here because Emma is here. He has no ties or loyalties to Olympia. He's never been that big on political issues like this. As a pirate he's seen what power does to leaders. It corrupts. It ruins. Absolutely. He's seen it happen to himself as well. When he was the Dark One it didn't take much to nudge him into the darkness. It didn't take much for him to take advantage of his power to take vengeance out on those who had wronged him in the past. He's no stranger to war or what it can do to people. Olympia doesn't hold his allegiance and neither does Wyver. Emma does however.

Which is why he's participating in this tour. Tours. Either way he's going about a city. Likely because Emma's had enough of him trying to explain what their future holds for them. Trying to explain what becomes of them from the point she last recalls. A bit of space won't hurt the situation. He doesn't want to pile everything onto her. He'll get acquainted with the city while she processes. It'll take longer than a tour or two, but he's prepared to wait as long as it takes. They've gone through too much for him to just abandon his wife. Especially given that he knows that's her fear. Just as it's his. ]


I wouldn't mind going to have a free drink or four.

[ He puts on a crooked smile. ]

c. forgetting is so long

1. we're all young once

[ Killian's stomach turns the moment he recognizes where he's standing. A ship stuck out at sea while a storm rages. The boat sways and moves with each wave. A young boy lays in his bed looking dreadfully afraid. The fear only amplifies the moment the lantern in the cabin blows out. The room grows dark and he sits up in a flash yelling out for his father. A man bursts in reassuring his son that he's there. The young boy looks visibly relieved simply having his father in the cabin as the elder relights the lantern.

It's all right, son. I'm here. See? There's nothing to be afraid of. Now--remember, whenever you feel scared, all you have to do is look inside. We're all braver than we think if we just look deep enough. Before you know it, you're gonna be a man, so I'm just trying to prepare you 'cause then you're gonna have to answer life's big question. What kind of man are you going to be?

The boy looks deep in thought until finally he lets out the smallest of laughs. Finally he seems to have an answer for his father.

OOC: Here is the memory. The rest of it will play out in his tags if this is replied to. The written bit is cut down to save scrolling space. ]


2. saying goodbye is the hardest part

[ The sight is familiar to Killian. Maybe to no one else, but he knows exactly what's happening here. Him and Emma racing through what seems like an underground cavern. He knows it's not. It's the Underworld. Hell. Emma has Killian by the hand as she pulls him towards what appears to be a freight elevator. Killian comes to a stop as they finally reach it.

Come on, we don't have that much time before the portal closes. What?

He doesn't make a move to join her inside it. He hesitates and watches her step into it. He remains outside it. He looks devastated as he finally tells her the truth. It's the only way to give her a life outside of this.

I'm not going up with you. I never was. We're never gonna find anything up there to save me.

But you said--


OOC: Here is the memory. The rest of it will play out in his tags if this is replied to. The written bit is cut down to save scrolling space. ]


3. the making of captain hook

[ The call of seagulls and the sight of the deck of his ship make Killian curious. There's a hundred memories that could take place here. More than a hundred. The crew bustles and moves until finally Milah comes aboard supporting an injured Killian Jones with two very functioning hands. No hook. A crew member approaches them as they head up the gangway.

Milah, what happened?

Fetch some water. And get me that prisoner from below deck, along with the goods that he carried. Now!


The crew members hustle about as another man steps up the gangway behind them. He doesn't look human entirely. His skin scaly There's no telling what he is. Who he is.

OOC: Here is the memory. The rest of it will play out in his tags if this is replied to. The written bit is cut down to save scrolling space. ]


4. the loss of a brother

[ It doesn't take him very long to recognize what memory is before him. The group of men stand by the side of the ship with a plank of wood holding a body up. The body is wrapped in white sheets and silence seems to overwhelm them. The only sounds that are heard are the ocean and the sound of the ship rocking.

The men lift the wooden board up and the body slides down into the sea. A younger Killian stands in the middle of the men. He's dressed as a Naval man. At this point he's still in the King's Navy. A man of honor and discipline, but that seems to be edging out of him. He doesn't flinch as they drop his brother into the ocean. It's a burial at sea. If his brother were breathing it's likely what he would have wanted. One man steps forward with a leather satchel of sorts and hands it to the younger Killian.

This belongs to you now--Captain.

Surprise covers his face as he hears his new title for the first time. A harsh reminder that his brother and their captain are gone. He takes the satchel running his fingers over the emblem before speaking in a low whisper.

You will never leave my side, brother.

OOC: Here is the memory. The rest of it will play out in his tags if this is replied to. The written bit is cut down to save scrolling space. ]


5. hell beasts are the worst

[ The only difference between this Killian and the one watching this unfold is the hair length. Longer and shaggier not to mention the bruised and bloodied face. Smeared blood all about his face. When he awakens from the ground one of his eyes seems to be severely swollen. It doesn't open completely. It's difficult to say how he's still alive, but that's Hades. Taking you to the brink only to start all over. He struggles to breathe as he forces himself upright. The agony is in his voice when he yells.

Is this a bloody trick?

He gets to his feet entirely before stepping out just barely before another voice echoes out. Female. Located in a "cell" directly in his eye line.

Stop. That's an exactly what it is. A trick. Don't move. He wants you to think you can escape, but--you can't. No one can.

Aye. We'll see about that.


OOC: Here is the memory. The rest of it will play out in his tags if this is replied to. The written bit is cut down to save scrolling space. ]
regives: (pic#7490784)

camp's glow

[personal profile] regives 2018-04-12 07:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ Leanne is in the middle of a conversation, chatting about previous events, before she jumps in response to the sudden shouting. Nearly biting her tongue during the initial jump, she turns her head over to the source of the obnoxious screaming with wide eyes; both surprised and bewildered.

But more importantly it takes her little time at all to realize who the voice belongs to. It's within that split second that her heart leaps from her chest and into her throat, causing her to wordlessly pull herself onto her feet without whispering a goodbye to her campfire friends.

He could be going off about whatever and that wouldn't stop the evident smile on her face. Overwhelmed by joy, she's absolutely beaming as she rushes over. ]
Eugene! [ She calls out in attempts to catch his attention, but whether or not he actually manages to hear her matters very little. The result is still the same: by the time she's just a few feet away she outstretches her arms, wrapping them around his neck and literally jumping him.

I hate that this is just the scene from The Notebook just without the rain. Also no kissing. ]


You're back!
meinwaifu: hand chin (I don't dislike those human qualities ♪)

[personal profile] meinwaifu 2018-04-12 07:50 am (UTC)(link)
Hmm... I suppose you could say we've met in a dream! But I can assure you, I am very real.

[He thought something was off. The past few times he's run into these memories, it's been like watching a video stuck on an infinite loop. But for the large and far more familiar sharkman to be nowhere around, he must have been influenced by the memory and altered to suit it.]

[But that means he probably can't use his usual method of breaking out of these little time traps. Literally slicing through time and space would probably be a little painful if he's become a part of the illusion as well.]


And I do know your sister... we're very good friends. [...] You must be rather fond of her, to be waiting out here in the rain for her return.
meinwaifu: (Let's make a deal ♪)

[personal profile] meinwaifu 2018-04-12 08:03 am (UTC)(link)
[Oddly enough, Mephisto has no trouble keeping up with her! In fact, despite looking like a rather fragile old guy at a glance, he doesn't even give the impression that he's moving as fast as he can go.]

I'm not sure what your plan is-- but these closed spaces are typically smaller than they appear. [This isn't the first memory he's been tossed into, after all. Though this one does seem a bit larger than usual... probably because it has to include the goddamn camel mecha inside.] There should be an edge, so to speak. A point where we'll quite literally hit a wall.

If we can find that edge, I have the means of returning us to reality.
summertimeblues: (024)

thank you for accepting my criticism gracefully, tabs out of wg

[personal profile] summertimeblues 2018-04-12 08:36 am (UTC)(link)
[Less Creature from the Flona Lagoon, more An American Were-Jockey in Olympia. Think a little more modern, baby.

He's sure that's another person over yonder. He has to squint a bit, take a few extra steps and get around all this budding foliage. And person it is, seemingly. Looking soggy and sorry as he feels. Human shaped, that's nice. Lady-shaped, even.

(His heart picks up the pace, his mouth is going dry even in this sopping mess, but he can't begin to hope—)

She speaks.

Richie goes very still.

It's odd, you know. He'd only really had one day to know her as a woman. A sprinkle of time in his youth, where she had been just a girl with coltish legs peeking out from tartan skirts and the odd purple moon swelling up the side of her cheek. But there are people whose presence wrestled down within you. Wriggled through the pores of your skin, swam in the divides of sinew to wedge into your bones. Make a home in your marrow. And in spite of the fact that there were a good twenty five years any old Joe could have come up to him and asked, "Hey, you ever hear of a Beverly Marsh?" and Richie would have said, "No sir, why? Is she single?", this year was different. This year, a voice like that has line cast straight into the core of him, hook and bait catching on the meat of his innards and giving a mighty yank.

He straightens some. He feels emptied out somehow. Bubbling up. Ludicrous, clear, electric. Richie opens his mouth and like so many times before, the thick catalogue of party jokes has a zinger up and ready to fire before his mind gets to put a veto on it.]


Me?! Bye the be-yird hairs of bushy-jawed Jaysus, can't ye use yer oiyes, lassie? It's only Aloysius Nell! Deh-rry fhoot patrol, checkin' the ole woods for ohll that skulks and luhrks and lies a-waiting for a foine thing like yerself to come skippin' along unawares, splashin' in ohll the mud an' the puddles like she was fit for a second round o' baptism! What in the bleedin' hell do ye think yer doin' out here?
idealisme: (Nous ferons d'une barricade)

[personal profile] idealisme 2018-04-12 09:01 am (UTC)(link)
Decadence? Perhaps that's it. Their indifference, too. [The poor starved while the rich lived in opulence.]

But as you say- it's just a memory. Burning it will do no good. [Though, perhaps a little burning would be good for the soul.]

I take it that was you back there, the young virtuoso?
devilcalling: (pffffgh →)

A.

[personal profile] devilcalling 2018-04-12 09:08 am (UTC)(link)
Does it matter?

[ Ryoko looks ahead for a beat longer, then turns golden eyes on the stranger that's posed the question. In that moment, her gaze is sharp, but it mellows and falls into something else entirely as she lifts a graham cracker from her side and takes a good, loud crunching chunk out of it. Was she actually listening to the sermon? One can only wonder as the crumbs begin to scatter in the wake of her munching. All this talk of "goddess this" and "goddess that" rings a little too close to home for her, but then, when you've lived with three and they just so happen to be your relatives, it makes for a mixed bag of thoughts and a near gag imagining that someone, somewhere might preach about Washu like this. Or Tokimi. Or -- eugh -- Tsunami. Sasami? Tsu... nami??? ]

He seems full of himself either way. [ She sighs. For so many reasons, she sighs. ]
krasnaya_vdova: (Still a Waif)

[personal profile] krasnaya_vdova 2018-04-12 09:27 am (UTC)(link)
[Ava hadn't really wanted a friend. She'd thought that she'd be safer on her own, had still mostly been planning to use the passports in her bag, once she thought she could get through an airport without getting flagged somewhere. She might be paranoid here almost to the point of something feral, but it wasn't paranoia when there really were people after you.]

Yes. When I first came out of stasis.

[She knows she wont leave if she lets herself focus on it, so she doesn't. If she indulges that part of her that wants to watch over Sana and make sure nothing touches her, that's all she'll do. And that's a big part of why this is vulnerable. Because it's giving him something that matters. And she's gotten better about that in recent months, but it's still.. rough. That sort of knowledge. When Sana means so much to her.

In the memory, Sana takes her to the kitchen, and after explaining the situation to the few other people, makes her a plate piled high with the night's leftovers, which the other workers had been moving into the refrigerators. Ava sits on a counter and eats her food, her attention almost hawkish. Sana talks more at her than to her, with Ava offering few words. Opening up to people was harder back then. She's starved, but she paces herself, and there's something about how she eats, how she pockets the rolls. That was Red Room more than living on the streets, even if she hadn't really understood the whys then. To be fair, she hadn't really remembered much just then.

Sana is good for her. She pushes, but not too much, seems to be able to tell the difference between boundaries and stubbornness. She smiles and laughs and tells a sly joke about how they never have cupcakes as she offers ava Jello instead. It's hours later, well after midnight when Ava finally leaves. Sana and the others finish cleaning up not long after. Ava's clearly feeling a bit better, and she trails after her; melts into shadows, slips along fire escapes. Doesn't overexert herself, but she follows her. Could probably have asked where she lived, but she hadn't really known how, not that night. She finds her window, and watches her for just a few minutes before slipping away. And she doesn't do anything about it that night.]


She looked fine. But that's all I could tell.

[In the memory, one night slips into the next. Ava steals a box of cupcakes from a grocery store, and in the end it's easy enough to slide Sana's bedroom window open, to wait for her, leaning the ledge. Sana almost screams, clapping hands over her mouth, and Ava looks bewildered. She says I have cupcakes as if that explains why she's in Sana's room in the middle of the night. But after a few moments Sana seems to recover, demands that Ava stays and share them in return for scaring her half to death. And she does. Sana talks, like she had before, and she even makes the small redhead smile. My name's Ava, she says, between bites of cupcake, as if that makes it less significant.]

I was sort of raised by spies.

[It's not quite a lie, but it doesn't really touch any of the important parts, either. But with how off-kilter she'd been back then, Ava felt the need to fill the air with some sort of explanation, try to stave off conjecture. It had been one thing to tell her group of SHIELD recruits about the Red Room and Ivan, it would be another to tell him, and so she doesn't. Not yet, anyway.]
devilcalling: (it's jake → from state farm)

[personal profile] devilcalling 2018-04-12 09:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ And it's with that internal groan that Ryoko pops another marshmallow into her mouth, pausing in her observance of the ongoing show to turn her gaze on the clearly armed stranger. Some people might be alarmed at a gesture offered with knife in hand. Ryoko isn't some people, though, and doesn't start or budge despite her observance of the weapon and the woman in whose hand it rests. Rather, she continues to float in spite of Ayeka's rather poignant stop!, upon which Ryoko, being Ryoko, starts talking almost immediately. ]

Yep! I sure am! No point in wasting a free show is there? Especially if it's a good one.

[ And, upon saying as much, she will be extending the offer of a marshmallow to Mai. Care to watch? She's got snacks. ]
devilcalling: (so i am → confusion)

[personal profile] devilcalling 2018-04-12 10:09 am (UTC)(link)
[ Well, that's certainly an answer and one Ryoko isn't quite expecting. She looks from Duo to her overloaded skewers and back to Duo again, puzzling over the name, the shape. ]

Marshmallows? I guess they do look kind of like pillows.

[ She switches the skewers over to one hand so as to properly prod a single skewered marshmallow curiously. They are soft. She noticed that before, but they're kind of squishy, too. It's a strange texture. Kind of... not quite bouncy? Fun, if... strange. Really strange. Stranger the more she thinks about it. ]

Are they made to look like that on purpose? People don't actually sleep on them, right?
impavid: (❖ And a million copies made)

[personal profile] impavid 2018-04-12 11:14 am (UTC)(link)
Well sometimes it's safer to sit tight and wait it out then cause a whole load of trouble breaking out.

[ Not that John is. Very good at. That. He appreciates it when other people do that, though! ]

Who are the radicals, then? Assuming we're not talking about a band.

[ The title of John's autobiography will be '50 jokes nobody got'. ]
impavid: (❖ This is for real)

[personal profile] impavid 2018-04-12 11:34 am (UTC)(link)
"John Sheppard," he responds reflexively, and takes the offered hand in a firm shake. "By 'waves' I'm assuming we mean... of refugees? How many have there been?"

It's still a little uncomfortable, the idea that these people turned up just in time to save everyone from the storm. To make an offer to him in return for... something. That kind of timing is a little too coincidental.
bravette: (We are the reckless)

hey either close the tab or square up ho.

[personal profile] bravette 2018-04-12 11:39 am (UTC)(link)
[ Shit all over modern, you try and get your waterlogged brain to come up with anything that isn't amphibious in this weather. ]

[ But likewise, there's a moment where Beverly falls so totally still, even her muscles forget to shiver. A moment where her blood turns to ice and freezes her the rest of the way to solid in an instant of gut-dropping, head-reeling terror. It hadn't been what she'd thought it'd been, she'd made (double—triple—quadruple) sure of that, but alien nature had one hell of a cosmic sense of humor, didn't it? Or perhaps alien nature was what they'd all had dropped on them in the first place, a hundred million years ago. Who the hell even knows what those two had seen down in the smoke-choked clubhouse. Who the hell could even say it was real (besides, well... all of them). A creature that burrowed down inside your thoughts and used them all against you—fitting, isn't it, that it would take the shape of a spider (big fat black spider, drains the size of freeways) getting all eight of its legs so into your grey matter you don't even notice the mandibles. It felt just shy of familiar, but far past ugly. Creeping in the drains just out of sight. ]

[ There's no spider, down in the bushes. No place big enough for one to hide between the scattering of trees, playing Pied Piper with an old Irish cop. Nary a mention of shapeshifting to be found, back up in the old space library. But quite possibly, were it not for one well-armed gentleman leaving her with the odd seed of hope that some old loon should be down planetside, she might have turn tail and ran right there. ]

[ There's still a moment that runs cold, palpable as a split second of dead silence at Houston, when the instant after zero runs a second too long, the moment a cockpit, a control room, and a nation simultaneously accept that it could all explode right there on the launch pad. Richie Tozier would have Boxer to thank for liftoff, in the bitter end. That fright doesn't quite go nuclear, and when she tries to run after all, it's not away down the road, but chancing straight down off the path, sloshing and skidding down into the real thick of the muck and lunging into the man with all the momentum she can't quite halt. He deserves the smack just as much as he deserves the hug. ]

Oh— Why can't you say hello like a normal goddamn human being?! Everything's looneytunes here and you know it!

[ It meets the crook of his shoulder halfway between blazing frustration and fluttering laughter, as if she knows the answer full well and loves to hate it. It'd been only a handful of days since she'd seen him last, and only a handful of hours she'd seen him before that in nearly thirty-odd years, but if she needed something familiar to cling to then... Now, well... Perhaps if she felt a little ten again, like she had (like they all had) sat around Arthur's Round Table in that darkened library—even just for a moment—all this fantasy nonsense could finally go down smooth. Spoonful of sugar and all that. ]

I've been looking all over for you, [ she can't help but huff, softer now. The beeping in too many words came nostalgic, but the rest of it, she lets it melt her fragile nerves in spite of the chilling rain. Finally found the other little lab rat that got away, the other one too dumb and antsy to keep sleeping through the post-apocalypse. ]
arcane: (pic#11405450)

[personal profile] arcane 2018-04-12 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[ hm.

well, he supposes just destroying everything probably wasn't the best solution. he's turned forests into wastelands, but that was prior to his arrival here, and he doubts he has full capabilities to do that as it stood, hence, he ... simply passes over that question. dismissing it with a quiet:
] Brilliantly, of course. [ uh... that doesn't actually answer how but...

maybe it's good that diamond appears to be able to do with the flow. actually, while arjuna has been studying diamond for quite some time, he never realized a lot of the characteristics they carried. truly... a mysterious appearance. then as another set of debris comes flying their way, arjuna shoots an arrow, aiming carefully in diamond's arms...

which is also more tedious than he expects.
] Yes, it seems it may not be a simple venture. However, I praise your steadiness, [ it wouldn't do for the trajectory of his arrow to be off mark, after all. ] Diamond. [ quick to use the name he learned.

... and maybe it's because it slipped off the tongue so easily because it fit the image of the individual in question so well.
]
ausuben: (pic#11829265)

[personal profile] ausuben 2018-04-12 12:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[This is a very beautiful and AGGRESSIVE CAT OH WOW.

Lancelot barely catches the not!cat inches from his face (although he does so very gently even if he is in risk of getting face full of cat fuzzies and claws) but looking no less shocked than if he had failed to intervene.
]

... I didn't intend it in such a way to upset you further... ! My name is Lancelot... and [ next part is said very very patiently ] I'm not following you. I believe... we are somehow stuck.
beknight: ([ bvs ] 92.)

[personal profile] beknight 2018-04-12 12:20 pm (UTC)(link)
No nice to meet you, his handshake does the talking. 'Yours is the fifth.'
impavid: (❖ For old time's sake)

[personal profile] impavid 2018-04-12 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
"Fifth?"

Huh. John squints a little in thought, releasing Bruce's hand.

"It makes me wonder how much capacity there is in this... stasis."

For all these worlds being caught in the storm, all these waves of people.

Then again, maybe not everyone asks for everyone to be saved. How many people get asked for that matter? What kind of bargains are some people making? His stomach twists uncomfortably.
arcane: (pic#11405421)

[personal profile] arcane 2018-04-12 12:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ on arjuna's end, he doesn't really sense any burning displeasure, but he supposes in comparison to a certain sun-related servant, he considered most exchanges far... simpler to deal with. would that imply he'd like to work with this mysterious servant, though? no, absolutely not.

still, the remark gets an almost curious hum.
]

Oh? Certainly you're not speaking about me. [ he wonders if this implies he has some inkling of his identity. regardless, it's a statement that lingers, before he stands over the pot. he gestures to it, as if to ask "may i?"

he is curious to see what this servant made, after all.
] I was just thinking you must have quite the unique personality to be sitting here and cooking. Especially, with this amount. [ permission granted or not, arjuna is looking in... ]
beknight: (Default)

[personal profile] beknight 2018-04-12 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)
'Several thousand people.'

It's a specific answer to a non-specific question. Bruce lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug, a kind of helpless yeah, what about it. 'I asked.'

(He asked Clark to scan, and Kara to confirm but you know. No need to terrify the man with talk about aliens. He'll learn soon enough.)

'For the moment, there's just us.'
impavid: (❖ He's a victim of the times)

[personal profile] impavid 2018-04-12 12:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Total capacity?"

Several thousand? John's nonchalant unease ramps up more to alarm.

"That's hardly anything, if entire planets are getting swallowed by this storm."

He'd assumed it was more but, on reflection, it makes sense that there can't be room for everyone. It's just difficult to accept, makes his stomach clench to think about.