Entry tags:
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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. 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. 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.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.
We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP. 1 SILVER = 1 US DOLLAR. |
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This likely won't be the last time this planet manipulates him like so. While he's hardly the victim here, he's not so in inclined to having the past force-fed to him. A cowering Diva finds his sights eventually.
He's half tempted to leave her to her scalping. Instead, she should feel some weight against the base of her head. An open hand offering some vague form of reassurance.]
Your dreams are manifesting for everyone to see.
[Implying it's her fault at all, and that she has any control over this. Maybe she does? In any case, he's finally allowing his presence to be known, she can take solace in that...
Or kick his ass for invading her privacy.]
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It's not like she really understands what's happening, nor does she care about people intruding on her privacy. She's never had privacy in her life, not the way others do. That little girl chained in the tower had her sense of self fractured over a hundred years ago, after all.
The weight of a hand against her head is familiar, as is Solomon's scent and voice. She shuffles around in her spot on the ground, still hugging her knees as she looks up at him, only to reach out and hug his knees instead. Her big blue eyes are watery and she's clearly upset.
Were they dreams? Had she fallen asleep somehow? Either way, she hates it.]
Make it stop.
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That being said, he's not entirely sure how to tangibly shut this shit down. His fingers wind around her hair, not to pull it -- just toying with it a bit. A vague form of reassurance, maybe.]
It won't last forever.
[Seldom things do.]
Can you sing?
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His question gets her to pull her face back just enough to look up at him. Why would he be asking that now, of all times?]
Of course I can.
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[He's not sure if it'll do anything at all -- for all he knows, the memories may worsen. For now, it serves as a distraction. Comparable to offering candy to a crying toddler.
In the meantime, he's alert. This could be the result of an incoming attack, a yet-seen hostile lurking somewhere. Psychological warfare on an advanced planet -- he's not researched so far, but it wouldn't be shocking.]
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In a way it does work, as she focuses on the notes rather than the memories unfolding around them. The setting seems to change into something far calmer and much more palatable, at least for Solomon it might be. They're at the main headquarters of Cinq Flèches, in a room familiar to the both of them. It's a memory with no merit, but a bland and boring memory right now is far more preferable to the horrid ones she'd been having moments ago.]
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That's a bit better, isn't it?
[He'll interrupt during an interlude of sorts. He can't promise it'll end anytime soon...but they may've reached the center of a tootsie pop...something like that............]
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[The office room is dull, the paintings on the walls eccentric, probably having been purchased from some French painter no one actually cares about. Moving to stand Diva doesn't fully extract herself from Solomon's legs, opting to slide her way up his body instead, turning her embrace into a hug, face first into his middle.]
Hey Solomon...do you like me?
[What a loaded, dangerous question.]
If I could die, would you be sad? People would be sad if my sister died.
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Of course I do.
[He'll return the hug with either arm, fully embracing her. They cross between her shoulders -- it's a snug seize of sorts.]
That's a silly question. Have I done something to suggest otherwise?
[Who even cares about Saya....nevermind how he's avoidant as heck all the time with Diva.
And that she's been having to deal with terrible visions for who knows how long.]
no subject
[Granted Amshel was always breathing down her back and being a general creepy dude, perhaps even moreso than Solomon at times.]
I get lonely, Solomon.
[Aka pay more attention to her ya fuck.]
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He isn't so attentive at the moment, is he?]
I'll keep that in mind.
[Both of those things.]
Is there something you'd like to do at the moment?
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His answer seems to placate her enough that she presses her face back into his chest, half nuzzling him in her own weird way.]
I want to go to a cake shop with you.
[Y'know, once everything fades away and things return to normal.]
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[It's an easy agreement, especially considering the circumstances.]
Do you have one in mind?
[Also known as How Many Times Have You Already Gone Cake Shopping And Also With Whomst.]
no subject
[Look. Let her live. Just because she likes going out and having cakes with people and trying to be a Normal Girl doesn't mean you gotta shame her for it.]
I wanted to go with you.
no subject
[Can she even tell which way their home is in relation to her nightmare/the visions? It doesn't really matter. If they make progress and things begin to clear up, make sense again...it's a victory. There's plenty of time to skulk around and discuss future plans.]
I'm afraid I haven't noticed that shop before. You'll have to lead.