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.
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.
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.
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.
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Mantis | MCU
[Along with many of the 'older' refugees, Mantis travels to the area and helps set up the tent city. By the time evening comes and most of the new arrivals are settled, Mantis is carefully picking her way through the tents, offering a quick word of encouragement (or even a meal) to anyone who looks like they might need such.
But as the evening grows darker, she grows more restless and most likely seek out companionship, rather than offer a quick word of courage and then move on. She pauses at a campfire.]
May I sit and join you for awhile?
we got cows
[What should have been a simple walk turns into something far from what Mantis had expected when sudden and very localized weather patterns sweep across the road with no warning at all. There's a sudden gust of wind -- strong and cold -- and then heavy fog envelops her and the people around her.
She reaches out toward the nearest person, fingers clumsily snagging what might be a sleeve.] Keep going forward. It will be fine.
forgetting is so long
[[cw: child murder]]
[One moment, she's walking along the road, chatting with new and old refugees alike. She's wearing her ring from Wyver, so even some of the Wyvern natives have approached and held pleasant conversations with her.
The next moment, she's back on Ego's planet, in his opulent home. Down the hallway and out of sight, a child can be heard wailing in anger and fright. Mantis' hands are clasping together, knuckles white in her attempt to keep from wringing them. She's younger in this memory and the fright that is so clear in the child's voice is reflecting in her eyes.
Footsteps echo along the corridor and Ego -- his expression set in disgust -- waves a hand in her general direction. "Shut that thing up. I can't think with all that racket."
She raises her eyes to him and dares to ask a question. "Did he--"
Ego stops, scowls. "Just as useless as all the others." He reaches out and fondly raps his knuckles against her cheek. "Not like you, little one. Go on, make yourself useful. I'll take care of the rest once he's quiet." He drops his hand and turns away; Mantis stares down the corridor, drops her gaze, and makes her way toward the room that the child is in.
The frightened crying only stops when Mantis lays her hand up the child's brow -- a small boy with wide green eyes and light-colored hair. She catches him as he falls asleep and allows herself to cradle him in her lap for just a moment; she doesn't dare whisper the apology that is caught in her throat. (She knows that Ego will be waiting nearby. He likes to get these things over with.) A light touch smooths his hair and she lays him down on the small bed. When she opens the door, Ego is leaning on the wall across from it.
"Good girl," he says, then shoulders his way past her.
She stands in the doorway and wrings her hands.]
Forgetting is so long
However, the sudden change of scenery to an obvious alien planet shook him where he walked, and he stumbled a bit. It seemed as if it were just the two of them, and based on the way her expression changed, he could tell she knew this place, knew this scene. Was it a memory? It had to be; it was so damn vivid.
He followed along with the scene, apprehensively curious why there was a child crying and why that bearded asshole seemed so pissed. He knew the look of someone frustrated by failure enough to glance at the weird large-eyed alien, and he found himself drifting in her wake as the scene played out before him. He was cynical enough to understand what putting the kid to slept meant based on the rest of the scene, and he came to stand up beside the antennae-bearing creature.]
Killing kids is never supposed to be easy.
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She glances at her companion, breath catching when she realizes that he's also seeing this horrific event. She turns and watches her younger self trudge down the hallway, fear and resignation heavy in the apparition's footsteps.]
But it was. [Her voice is almost nothing, panic nearly cutting off her words. Her hands are pressed against her stomach.]
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Not for you. [It was clear that she was intensely upset about seeing all of this. He imagined that playing her part was just as painful.] Why did the kid have to die? What did he do so wrong?
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Nothing. [She's somewhere between panic and tears.] He did nothing wrong.
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So why? Doesn't make sense to me.
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He did not live up to Ego's expectations.
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He frowned for the first time, considering the kid.]
Did you live up to his expectations?
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I was useful. [Her voice is wavering.] I did as I was told.
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forgetting is so long;
Ego’s palace slams into place around him, giving him vertigo for a second, and once he recognizes where he is, he freezes in place. A chill runs down his spine, hands instinctively going for the grips of his blasters, and for a second, he’s not sure if he wants to puke or scream invectives at the top of his lungs. Maybe both?
The shit with Ego was never quite resolved, as far as Peter remembers. The last thing he recalls with any clarity is Mantis getting taken out by stray debris and Gamora falling from the edge of a cliff, and his father’s face appearing like some fucked up Wizard of Oz in the rock. But then the Storm came, and destroyed everything in its path – Ego’s planet included. Which means, as far as Peter’s aware, that Ego is dead and gone after the destruction of his core. And good riddance, honestly, but Peter really wishes he could’ve seen the bastard get taken down.
So being here again— it’s like a punch to the throat. It’s like a stab in the gut. Peter’s not sure if he’s more terrified or furious, and after months of burying that uncertainty away, it’s like it’s all surged to the surface at once, leaving him numb and reeling.
He spots the shitbag in question, and he sees, too, a small, terrified Mantis. He hears frightened wailing and his father’s words, and Peter watches and follows, his hand stayed by a sense of morbid curiosity.
And when Mantis puts the kid to sleep, when Ego brushes past, Peter’s stomach churns.
He’s frozen for another second or two before he takes a lurching step forward, stopping behind her. His mouth feels drier than a desert, but eventually he croaks out, ]
Mantis?
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And that's before she hears Peter's voice.
There's a quick in-drawn breath and then she's not sure that she can breathe at all. A million questions slam into her mind, first and foremost among them a desire to know exactly what is happening here. How has this memory been made real? How is it that the very last person she wants to know what she did is standing right behind her? She wheezes, unable to even draw a breath.
He's going to hate her. He's going to hate her.
Her mouth works, but she can't find any words. In a panic, she whirls around to face him.]
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He has a million things to say, a million things to ask, and all of it is stopped up in his throat as they stare at one another.
Peter had known, of course, but it had been in an almost academic sense, like knowing dark clouds bring rain, or that thunder follows lightning. Stuff you kind of get but don't entirely comprehend. He had known Mantis had a hand in helping his father handle some of the kids he had brought back to his roost, but it had never really registered.
But she had said it herself, right? I can ease them into contentment, she had told them. I can make a stubborn person compliant.
He had figured out the darker meaning later, in the first few days after he had woken up on the station. But now, he understands what it means, and not for the first time, he wonders what might have become of him, if he hadn't been able to channel that stupid Light.
Ego's voice loops in the background, bearing a note of disgust that Peter was only privy to after Ego had gotten him alone. It had set off warning bells in his head, at the time, and now, it makes him sick, makes his skin crawl and heart freeze. He doesn't know if he wants to scream or run or punch the nearest wall – and honestly, they all seem to have about an equal chance of happening.
He does know, at least, that he can't stay here. Neither can Mantis, judging by the way she's barely breathing, and while the bottom might have fallen out of his world, he does his best to find his footing again. There can be time for a meltdown later, he tells himself. Problem-solving time is now. ]
What's going on? [ The question is directed at this Mantis, the Mantis he recognizes, but his voice is rough with about a million different emotions. His eyes don't quite meet hers. ] What are we doing here?
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I-- [Answering Peter is suddenly the hardest thing she's ever done. She resists the urge to reach out in an effort to 'steal' a little bit of fortitude. Her fists are so tightly clenched that she can feel her nails digging into her palms.
(Make yourself useful, she hears Ego say in the background.)]
I don't know. [She blurts it out in one short breath.]
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But it's not a different vision, or memory, or whatever the hell this is. It's this one, and Peter has spent months burying all this shit with his father, damming it all up. He hasn't been dealing as well as he claims he has been, so much as he's been forgetting.
But here it all is again, dragged into the light. Like ripping open old wounds and dumping salt all over them. He doesn't know that he's ever been this furious, this sick, and the metal and plastic of his blaster's grips creak as his hands tighten around them.
He lowers his head, breathing raggedly, and he screws his eyes shut. Calm down, he tells himself. Calm down, calm down, calm down. This isn't helping.
He should be asking clarifying questions. He should suggest that they look around, since it seems they have some bit of freedom. But the only words he can dredge up are, ]
The kid. What was his name?
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She doesn't know if she should beg for forgiveness, or try to explain, or just stand there and let him pass judgment on her. Words are like shards of glass in her throat and she's not sure how she's managing to answer him.]
I don't know. He never told me their names.
[She found out, once or twice. It was worse when she knew their names, so she never asked.]
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How fucked up is that, that Peter had all these siblings – a giant, galaxy-spanning family – that he couldn't properly mourn? ]
So if I hadn't—
[ And he cuts himself off, voice breaking and catching in his throat. Another breath, and he points sharply at the kid as a young Mantis renders him unconscious. ]
Would that have been me? If I couldn't control the Light, would you have just— would you have put me to sleep, and I'd have never woken up again?
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He would have told me to.
[She's worrying her lip, jaw trembling and she's not sure whether she wants to cry, beg for his forgiveness, or hit him for that comment. How he must hate her now, but he doesn't have to treat her like she didn't even try.]
I went and got Drax. [There's tears in her voice, if not on her face. There's anger and pleading and anxiety all wrapped up in her words.] When Ego took you away, I woke up Drax.
[She looks at him then.
And pokes him in the chest. Hard.] So don't stand there and think that I don't know that this is wrong. I helped you. [She points to her younger self.] Who was going to help me?
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forgetting is so long
She was just going to say hi.
She was just...]
Mantis... what... is this...
[The boy doesn't even catch most of Anemone's attention. It's Ego. Ego has her in her own memories, even if they haven't manifested around them like this. They're just in her head. That stark familiarity between Ego and Dewey and she's...
She's horrified.]
Mantis, who is he...
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Mantis freezes in horror. Her mouth works soundlessly for a long moment before she manages anything.]
I'm sorry.
[Sorry she has to see this, has to experience this, has to know what sort of person Mantis truly is.]
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But now she's pointing at Ego like he's the worst thing in the room.]
Who is he?! [To reiterate, and then she adds a bit more, because just asking (demanding) doesn't seem to be helping Mantis' trauma.] He... he reminds me of someone, okay?
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She's probably taking it all sorts of wrong and, thing is, she knows that but she's firmly entrenched in this trauma. It's more than this memory that has its hooks in her; it's Ego himself.
She'd thought herself free of him and now she knows differently.
Oh, does she know differently now.]
That is Ego. [Her voice is small and brittle.]
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She tries to cool her anger, because it's not at Mantis, and she's sure not taking this well, and who can blame her?
So she reaches out and gently touches Mantis' wrist, trying to catch her gaze and ignore the entire memory that's around them.]
Hey, we've all done things we're not proud of, you know? People like him are manipulators. There's not a choice when they're around and you have no one else.
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I could have refused. [And then died in the same way, says a small voice in her mind.]
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