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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Atsushi Nakajima | Bungou Stray Dogs | cw: child abuse
[The scenes are familiar, every detail experienced as vividly as the first time - or maybe even more so. Atsushi couldn't have described the scent of the orphanage or the way its walls bounce back the sound, but now that he's experiencing them again, they match his memories with such intensity that the scene almost seems more real than reality.
It is reality, he's pretty sure. Even if you don't know Atsushi, it's probably not difficult to recognize the child with a similar choppy haircut - 11 years old; 8 years old; even younger than that - as the young man who stands there, witnessing his own past like a ghost. The surroundings are so dreary, they seem to mute the harsh things happening - or maybe that's just how Atsushi has managed to live with the memories. There's nothing positive to see here, only beatings, abuse, constantly being told that the world would be better off if he were dead... He's kept in chains, injected with God only knows what, drowned... One scene fades into the next seamlessly, and there doesn't seem to be an end to them.]
I don't... understand.
[How did this happen? It's unpleasant, yet he can't seem to tear himself away to look for an exit. None of the memories disturb him as much as they should, acceptance having always been a prerequisite for surviving in that place, even if the fear never went away. Only the appearance of one particular man unsettles Atsushi at all - and even then, he can't seem to leave.
That man is dead, and Atsushi knows it. If he tells himself that often enough, maybe the memories will disappear again.
Or maybe he's just using that as an excuse for why he can't seem to move.]
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It’s cruel; of course it is. No child should be treated that way. It’s awful, terrible, heart wrenching, and just about the saddest thing that Chuuya has ever witnessed, and yet his life is just fucked up enough to expect this kind of thing, especially for the orphans of Yokohama. It’s brutal, and Chuuya is damn lucky that he hardly remembers his own childhood, considering what he’s been told.
There’s nothing he can possibly say or do to ease the pain of reliving these memories, but Chuuya speaks up anyway, brows furrowed beneath the shadow of his hat.]
You just can’t catch a break, can you?
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[Not anymore. And yet he's still staring with a kind of morbid fascination, trying to figure out how what he's seeing isn't his reality anymore, but still scars him. The change of scenery has made it relatively easy to actively put these memories behind him - yet here he is.]
I thought it had become easier to handle... all of this.
[Yet, looking at it now, it might as well have happened yesterday. And still, he can't seem to tear himself away, as if some answer will surely come to him if he looks hard enough - some explanation for why this happened beyond what he already knows; some kind of acceptance.]
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[Chuuya can’t offer any kind of sage advice, but he can at least come closer, minimizing the distance between them but not trying anything as intrusive as a hug. If Atsushi wants a shoulder to lean on, however, Chuuya is here.]
Probably something to do with the weird weather and deja vu shit that’s been going on. Some kind of anomaly.
[Chuuya wonders what kind of fucked up shit everyone else must be seeing...]
This sucks, but it’s like you said. It’s not real.
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But this is neither the time nor the place to start a discussion about that. It takes an incredibly amount of effort and several long seconds more, but he forces himself to look away and turn to Chuuya.]
How do we stop it?
[Behind him, young Atsushi gets his foot pierced by a nail and screams; Atsushi can't help but wince.]
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He glances around the area, surveying their surroundings.]
You’re the one who knows about Light Snow. Maybe this is the same kind of thing.
[Or it could be completely different, but.]
Does anything look weird or out of place to you?
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He really need to stop retreating into his own head. What Chuuya said makes enough sense. Something weird or out of place..? Atsushi looks around - though he tries to avoid looking at his past self.]
There. [He points at a dark corridor on one side of the room.] I don't know what it is, exactly... Maybe the lighting is different?
[That's probably not enough to go on, or at least a little weird, but it's definitely, emphatically off in his experience.]
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[Chuuya has had just about enough of this bullshit lately, so he’ll jump at the chance to break this illusion and get the fuck back home. With little regard for what might be lurking in the shadows, Chuuya feels along the startlingly real corridor, searching for any kind of break in the illusion.
And voila, out of nowhere a door appears, standing ominously and beckoning Chuuya to open it.
Except this isn’t his memory, so it only feels right to let Atsushi do it.]
You ready?
[He can’t imagine Atsushi wanting to linger here, but he might as well ask.]
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The door opens - or is destroyed - and Atsushi gets the quick escape that he hadn't dared to count on, everything suddenly back to normal. It's just the mansion, the living room, everything still present just as it was before - and that is almost scarier than the memories were. How much can he still count on his thoughts, after that hypnosis when he was captured? Is he still sane? Was he ever?
He lets out a shaky breath, and tries to ignore everything and press on, which arguably isn't the best coping mechanism. He heads off in the direction of the kitchen with a barely-there mumble.]
Daifuku could probably use some food.
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Chuuya frowns; what do you say to someone who just relived their fucked up childhood in one godawful sitting? “That sucks, sorry” doesn’t sound sincere, but neither does coddling him and telling him that everything is sunshine and rainbows. Ugh, fuck, Chuuya isn’t any good at feelings, but it feels wrong somehow to just leave it at that.]
Atsushi.
[Chuuya doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but fuck it.]
You went through hell and came out stronger for it. [He scratches his cheek.] I mean, you’re not an asshole to other people when you have every right to be, so there’s that.
[Okay, maybe he’s channeling Mipha a little here (in his own words), but.]
What happened to you was fucked up, but it’s in the past, right?
[Says the man who bears an eternal grudge against his ex-partner for a betrayal committed years ago.]
I can’t tell you to forget it, because that’s bullshit. You’ll never forget it, but you can move on.
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He doesn't turn around: he's not sure he can look Chuuya in the eye. But he stops, and he listens, and he tries to focus on Chuuya's voice as much as he can.]
I wonder.
[He used to believe the same, but reliving everything has definitely dragged him back from a lot of progress he thought he'd made. Maybe if the kidnapping hadn't messed with his head so much, it'd be easier to handle; as it is, he feels like a lot of his hard work (or, okay, running away) has been for nothing.]
I thought I had - or that I'd come a long way, if nothing else. I don't feel so sure of it anymore.
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They did it to you because you’re a weretiger, right?
[Chuuya is just guessing, but to single out one child from the rest like that, to treat him like an animal, it only makes sense. That doesn’t excuse what the sick fucks did, of course, but it does explain things beyond the headmaster simply getting off on the sadistic cruelty.
The real beasts are human beings, and all that jazz.]
I sure fucking hope you don’t think you deserved any of it, because that’s bullshit.
[Chuuya has no time for people who constantly wallow in self-pity with their annoying, attention seeking whining, but he’s not a complete asshole. Clearly Atsushi is actually struggling here, and not just playing it up for pity.
Words have never been as effective with Atsushi as actions, though, and much as Chuuya never really allows others to get too touchy feely with him outside the bedroom, he supposes he won’t die if he reaches out to gently ruffle Atsushi’s hair. Kind of like petting him, but shh.]
It’s fine.
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And maybe Atsushi doesn't want to associate his ability with his past of abuse too much. Maybe he prefers to think of his ability as a good thing - something that gave him a new life with the Armed Detective Agency.
He'd really rather not think about any of it too much, or at all. So he'll just take the head pets, closing his eyes briefly, and try to calm down.]
I know. I know that I didn't deserve it.
[But it still happened, and even if he knows in his head that the headmaster's abuse was wrong, it's hard for his heart to dismiss a lifetime of being told that the world would be better off without him. He doesn't believe that's true, but he hasn't been able to prove it to himself yet.]
... I'm sorry. There was no need for you to see that.
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Someone has a needle, and Dylas roars as he surges forward, leaping high into the air and bringing his fist down against young Atsushi's tormentor. Just as he's about to connect, however, the scene changes to another one, one a few months later (not that he knows). His hand slams into the ground hard enough to make him wince, but he's quick to get back on his feet, tail lashing more mightily and furiously than it ever has.]
Let go of him, you bastards!
[He hasn't noticed Atsushi himself yet.]
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But Dylas ends up hurting himself, which feels like he's being caught up in the memories somehow, and that is something Atsushi can't accept. Still, he doesn't move, almost a literal wallflower at this point.]
It's all right. [Words have never sounded as hollow as they do when Atsushi speaks up. He's not lying, though: this is what he needs to believe is the truth.] This happened a long time ago.
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[The memories are causing Atsushi distress. He's hearing what his tiger friend is saying, but it fills him with so much frustration. He takes a defensive stance and yells; lightning bursts from his body in every direction except for Atsushi's. They hit 'walls' here or there. Nothing is actually being struck no matter how long Dylas stands there, trying the same thing.
He takes a knee to catch his breath.]
Why are they doing these things to you?
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Then he moves anyway, slowly, and it's so strange that he can. He stands next to Dylas, just to be close. He's not sure touching would be a good idea, as if that would drag Dylas into the past with him.]
Because they hate me. [That's how simple it is, really.] Because of my ability, in part...
[Still, he doubts that anyone but the headmaster himself knew about that. The orphanage was terrible all around, and while the headmaster may have had his reasons, plenty of other kids were mistreated in there, if not to the same degree as Atsushi.]
Because it would teach me to be strong and survive in the outside world.
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To that end, he roughly grabs Atsushi's wrist once he's close. From there, he pulls his friend closer, and he shoves Atsushi into his chest once he can get a hand on Atsushi's back.
And he attempts to hold him there. He doesn't know what to do. But Atsushi doesn't need to watch all of this again. Dylas can protect him from that—]
That's bullshit. You're a badass furry. [Isn't that the name they'd decided for themselves back in the cave? He's not 100% sure.] Stay here. You don't have to look.
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It's okay, really. I've seen it all before already.
[That really doesn't make it any better - but it should. And maybe if he tells himself that enough, he'll believe it.]
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[He's sort of reminded of a while back when he'd muttered in his sleep. He still mutters in his sleep. Atsushi can come by any night of the week and listen at his door and he's sure to hear mumbling. He gave away part of himself without wanting to that day, to Atsushi. And it was fine. But this? This is all horrible. Atsushi obviously didn't want him to know about these things.
He grips Atsushi so tightly. There are tears stinging at his own eyes as he rests his head against Atsushi's. Dylas' tail is determined to set a record for angry lashing, and he finds himself grinding his feet into the floor. He's clopping in anger.]
What do you want me to do? Tell me. I want to help.
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It's that, more than anything else, that makes Atsushi's answer easy.]
... We should go. [Leave this place, leave the memories, somehow.] I don't think this is going to end if we stay here.
[Trust him, he's been here a while.]
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[He lets go of Atsushi abruptly and turns around. One hand reaches back for Atsushi's and pulls it in front of himself where he can hold it. It'll be awkward to walk like this, but damn it. He's not letting this thing win.]
Grab my tail with your other hand so I can guide you...and keep your eyes closed. If I can't find a way out, I'll tear this place apart with my hands.
[He's expecting Atsushi to obey. He knows he's supposed to get better at asking, but he can handle this. Even as the memories flick to another torture that make Dylas' stomach flip, he'd rather have his eyes burned than put Atsushi through his again.]
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I'm ready.
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How the hell is he supposed to find something in a room that keeps shifting, anyways? He studies the area, trying to concentrate. Atsushi is counting on him to get him out of here. He's a little embarrassed now that he has time to think about it; he must've looked like an idiot making all those demands and throwing lightning all over the place.]
This is stupid. Not you. Whatever...did this. Or whoever. I hope they like having their ass kicked.
[False bravado, probably. He starts moving toward one of the walls in the current vision and elbows it. Yep. That felt real. Destroying one of the walls isn't going to be an option.]
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It really is nice, relying on Dylas this way. Maybe it's not right, and maybe it's not healthy, but Atsushi sure likes it.]
... Do you think this is like the hypnosis?
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