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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Ianto Jones | Torchwood | OTA
Ianto has always hated camping. He should have known that's what it would come down to when they were given the starter packs and sent down on that beam of light to the planet below, but he had hoped, given the state of the station he'd woken up on, to be proven otherwise.
He's had some bad experiences, for one. For another, he's dressed in a suit and tie. It's hardly appropriate attire for campfires and kumbaya-ing. He's always been a city boy at heart and the dark of the unfamiliar countryside settling around him is. Unsettling, to say the least. There's something in the air that's setting him on edge, and he doesn't like any of this at all.
Ianto wraps his arms around himself, huddling closer to the fire and trying not to think too hard about what might be out there. Trying, and failing, for that matter. He jumps slightly at movement beside him, glancing up and trying to cover the startle with a cough.
"At least it's warm by the fire..."
WE GOT COWS;
As if the camping hadn't been bad enough, now they're expected to hike to their destination. The least they could have done was give them a change of clothes, Ianto grouses, to no one in particular, as his shoes slip in the mud again. He hadn't been dressed for this nonsense, he'd been dressed for the Hub. For the streets of Cardiff, not the roads of wherever the hell he's found himself now.
His mood had dampened considerably with the flash flood of rain to follow and he'd been torn between removing his jacket to try to see if he could keep it dry and keeping it on on the offchance he wouldn't freeze to death like this. As it were, he'd done his best to find some shelter from the elements and wait it out, but he knows the importance of reaching their destination before dark so he valiantly presses on.
For all the good it does. Soon the fog is so thick around him he can hardly see his face, let alone several feet down the road. With no idea of where he's come from or where he's going, Ianto digs the torch they've helpfully supplied out of his pack and tries to make sense of this predicament.
That is, until he sees movement in the fog before him.
Ianto holds his breath, wondering whether it's better or worse to call out to the figure before deciding he'll probably be spotted in the end anyway.
"Ehm," he starts, before clearing his throat and trying again. "Hello! Is somebody there?"
FORGETTING IS SO LONG;
There's something in the air. Ianto should have recognized that things are about to go seriously wrong just from that. From the strange weather and the way that the air seems to go thick and dark around him, but he doesn't put two and two together until he turns a corner on the road and the path is suddenly metal planking underneath his feet and the Hub stretches out before him. Only the lights are dimmed, the emergency lighting casting the room in an eerie red glow, and across the metal planking a figure steps forward.
Ianto takes a step forward across the plank toward her before he recognizes himself doing so. Even though he knows what she is -- who she is, yes, but what she is as well. Even though he knows that she's dead, and that this is wrong, and that if she is here he should run like hell and not be moving closer to her. But it's also Lisa and if he can only try. If it will only work this time. Is she here? Is this really her this time?
"Lisa..."
There's movement on the planking behind him and Ianto turns to look over his shoulder.
"Stay back!"
A FORK IN THE ROAD;
They've got pegasui, but Ianto feels as though all he really needs is a change of clothes, a stiff drink, and a decent night's rest. He's supposed to be making a decision now that he's come this far but he wishes that they'd honestly just spell things out for him. He's rather done with all of this beating around the bush at this point. The perks are fancy enough, but if he finds out if there is no running water in one over the other, there's the decision made for him, for instance.
Running a hand over his face and through his hair, which he's not going to even imagine the state of at the moment, he does his best to find a quiet corner for a moment's silence.
"Flying horses," he mutters to himself, incredulously.
cows!
Nope jk. "Ianto? Is that you?"
Out of the gloom is Jim, outfitted properly for the terrain, the light on his shoulder usually suited for cave exploring or climbing - it's not really doing anything to combat the thick weather, but it's trying valiantly. At least he's got his hands free. He approaches the other man, giving him a once-over as if checking for any visible injuries.
"You look like you went swimming," he points out. Unhelpfully.
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Though he does make a face at the comment. Thanks, Jim.
"It was raining," he points out, helpfully. "Unlike some people, the newest of us haven't been properly outfitted for this weather. Really, the least they could have done was give us ponchos..."
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He holds it out, some Nysa-native styled thing-or-other with a hood. "I'd say the best bet is to head back to camp, for now. Unless you've got a pressing engagement elsewhere."
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Ianto takes Jim's jacket with an uncertain glance at the other man. "I'll get it wet," he protests halfheartedly, before quietly slipping it on. Jim and he are relatively of the same height so it doesn't fit that poorly, but he still feels odd, to be wearing it. Still, it's better than not, especially since his shirt underneath is still soaked through as he's pointed out.
"...thanks," he says, after a moment. He probably should have thanked the man first, rather than complaining, but what can he say. He is Welsh.
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"Okay. I was on the road away from the camp, but turned back when stuff started to get weird. What direction were you coming from?"
Jim checks his communicator and the map within, scrolling through for location pings, but the system's not able to function through the interference. Of course. "Instruments failing is always a sign of something stupid going on," he mutters.
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"From camp, towards the crossroads? I think," he adds, because he's rather uncertain about the whole business, to be honest. "That was the intended direction, anyway. Are things generally this..." He waves a hand about them to indicate the volatility of the environment around them.
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"Weather's been pretty mild since I showed up," he admits with an implied shrug. "I mean, it's uncomfortably hot in Wyver, but that's normal for Wyver and not a freak weather pattern."
Even Earth gets spontaneous monsoons or heat waves in certain areas, though, so while there's a possibility that this is a simple fluke, Jim's instincts and general distrust of this whole planet suggest otherwise. Supporting this is that once they've walked only a few meters, it suddenly begins hailing-- in front of them. There's a clear line where it begins, rapid and angry, a strange wall of active weather, ice balls bouncing on the ground towards their feet.
"What the hell.."
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In the back of Ianto's mind is another instance in which funny sorts of weather patterns factored into the case they were trying to solve. But that couldn't be... He's on an entirely different planet, to start. And while this seems to be out of the ordinary, there must be a different explanation.
Still, it does help to see that Jim, a man who has been here longer than Ianto himself, is just as baffled. That it's not all in his head as he had initially feared. Ianto takes a step backwards away from the wall of hail coming towards them.
"I don't know about you but. That doesn't look good to me..."
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"Something's got to be up with this, but so far, you guys are having an easier time of it than my group did. Knock on wood or something, though."
There doesn't seem to be an immediate break in the hail, but this direction is taking them near large trees that offer satisfactory shelter from any stray clumps of ice.
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a fork in the road;
[She's not too happy about the flying horses, frankly. She doesn't like horses in general, never mind ones that defy physics in such a deliberate way.]
Or any of the other horrid little beasts that roam around this universe.
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Dragons. Lovely.
[He's dealt with Myfanwy, of course, but a pterodactyl is not a creature of myth. It's simply a creature that has fallen through a rift in space and time and can't go back. (Simply.) Of course, the team has also dealt with faeries and potentially ghosts as well but that's neither here nor there.]
Is that anything I should be concerned about? ...is any of that something that I should be concerned about?
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In the city, however, there's more people-oriented dangers.
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He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly.]
And which would you say are more dangerous then. The dragons in the wild, or the people in the cities?
[Please don't tell him he's actually safer out here. He really does hate camping...]
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[Sorry, buddy, got it in one.]
Still. It's preferable to living out in the wilds. Can you defend yourself?
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We got Cows!
"Hm?"
He barely sees a humanoid shadow in the distance. It's fuzzy, even with his stronger vision. "Over here!" He calls, hoping the other hears him.
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"Who's there?" he asks as he walks. Hoping that keeping the conversation going will make him feel a little calmer about the situation. Make his pulse stop racing and stop himself from feeling like there are monsters out there waiting to attack him from every shadow.
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"We're refugees, headed towards the cities!" He tries waving again, hoping he can be seen through the fog. "Just follow my voice. I'll take you to safety."
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"Ah, hello," he says, as he approaches, hoping he doesn't look as cautious as he had been up until this point. "Do you have any idea of where we're supposed to be headed, then?"
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A light rain has decided to show up along with the thick fog, causing Venom to sigh. "We'll be entering the forests soon, and I believe we can rest there for the night."
This is probably the ex-assassin's least favorite part, because it means he has to fuss with the tents again. Hopefully it'll take less than two hours this time.
"My name is Venom, by the way."
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"Ah, hallo," he responds. "Ianto. Ianto Jones," he introduces himself in return, awkwardly holding a hand out to shake on.
"Do you know your way around this place then?" It sounds like it, at least, from the way he seems to know where they are, even despite the rain and the fog making it especially difficult.
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"Normally, yes. I've done this journey a few times since my arrival. But I've never encountered fog this thick before."
He pauses, looking over at what he believes is the edge of the forest. "If these conditions persist, we'll have to take our time navigating the woods in the morning. But I promise I will get you to the cities."
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"No way to go but forward," he replies, a bit nervously but trying not to let the conditions get to him otherwise. He's only lost in an unknown forest on a foreign planet, that's all. Nothing could possibly go wrong with this scenario.
"I'm supposed to decide which city is for me, or that's the idea I'm getting," he says. Feeling chatty because he always seems to be more chatty when he's nervous.
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The fact that they're having them decide early on is peculiar. It worries Venom a bit, as it's causing a rift even before they can choose for themselves. "To be honest, I would suggest spending time in both cities before you ultimately decide. They have their respective pros and cons depending on how you prefer to live."
The fog subsides a little, though the rain decides to pick up as a result. Stupid weather.
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