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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...Doesn't come up with much. If he puts on an act and fails, he might get (hypothetically) slaughtered. If he tries to escape, same deal. (In the background, they continue to gossip about the late "Class Celebrity". RIP, Sumanai.) ]
...You sure you're not a real sadist?
[ (Fine... he'll go along with this farce. It's not like Akira doesn't having fighting experience, but the way his companion talks it sounds like it won't be enough.) He first nods his head over to their audience. ]
Which one is the 'Master'...
[ He should at least get that cleared up... At least, he assumes Arjuna is referring to someone in this odd collective. ]
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I assure you I'm merely preparing for the role.
[ not true at all. he still doesn't know how to script out his words, but he supposes true warriors and heroes were men of action. but, that doesn't mean there wasn't the smallest hint of amusement on his features, before it adjusts accordingly.
judging by their line of conversation, their "real" master may not be here at all. rather it seems like one side attempting to discern who she is from the pair— himself and the other man of the bow. but, obviously that wouldn't do for this activity, and hence he points to ....
mashchan. ] She will do nicely. [ with that he words out of the word: "keep your wits, transfer student." whether it's a coincidence or not, it does seem like the audience is temporarily quiet. seeing as how this is his plan, he goes first by adding: ] "Her tears will be quite rewarding."
[ where is the dere in this... ]
i... what am i doing beej help
It's his turn to carry on their spontaneous script, and he pitches his voice slightly lower—Joker's tones replacing his normal speaking patterns. He hunches forward slightly (...his posture is already slanted to begin with...), looking off "mysteriously" into an arbitrary direction. ]
'Tears'... I doubt she's ever known true suffering.
[ He tries to affect an expression of... loss? Anger? Darkness?? (Wait why does he sound like the sadist now—gotta dial it back...) He aims a faint smile at Mashu, and probably just looks suspicious as hell instead of enigmatic. ]
Don't worry. We won't hurt you.
i am sorry i led us astray
there's nothing about his "scripted" words that strike arjuna as being off or unbelievable. granted, arjuna also had the penchant for dramatics, whether it was appropriate for a given situation or not. still, beyond a slight curve of his lips and brief inclination of his chin as a sign of approval, he doesn't give much else.
especially, as he continues. he sees the angle akira is probably going for. maybe something even a little contrary. hence, he gives a nod. ] He is right. Your tear-stained face is reserved for me alone, after all. [ i want to die.
still, the mashu of this memory doesn't seem to quite react. at least not to them, as the conversation keeps moving.
no less, it seems like the convo is moving in the direction of some sort of battle.
it's strange, but perhaps up until now and all their talk, even looking in their direction could have all ... simply been a misunderstanding. but, arjuna isn't about to admit that easily. instead, he looks in akira's direction, as if it's his fault. or at least that he's at mutual fault somewhere. they needed a new plan, it seems. ]
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He's glad his impromptu partner approves, though really this feels more like a slapstick comedy duo than any Actual Acting. All's well that ends well, he supposes—
—But, it's not ending well at all. Despite their best efforts (Arjuna really going the extra mile here), he can sense the tension palpable in the air, the sound of weapons drawn and bows knocked. There's going to be a fight, and Akira hasn't changed his mind since he got here; their exit is overdue. (...why u lookin' at him like that...) ]
...
[ He doesn't ask this time, and just starts. Running in the opposite direction.
Not a moment too soon! There's a dramatic explosion somewhere just behind him as one of the Servants fires off an (Arts/Buster/Quick) attack, some of the shockwave catching him in the back and propelling him violently forward. He lands face-first in the sand, sputtering grit as he picks himself back up to his feet to notice a strange glimmer over the water some meters away—a weakness in the memory. ]
...Do you see that?
[ If they can just break through... ]
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arjuna thought there were aspects of their display that should have received some level of acclaim. of awe, or at least any sort of working reaction. instead, it's like the figures were simply designed to engage in battle. nothing more, nothing less. arguably, that's precisely what servants were. what heroes tended to do in such a scenario and arjuna isn't much of a exception. when the blasts begin, he instantly raises his bow. almost as if the counteract the strength of the blows, he poses himself to dispel some of the extra aftermath. attempting to match their blows with his own.
hence, position set, and he shoots.
accidentally, he overdoes it a little with the mana. something he realizes too late (honestly, he can't really afford to be wasting it and yet, holding back had never been his strong suit when it came to displaying his skills on the battlefield :pepesuh:) if anything, he probably only contributed to the mess...
as if catching onto these facts, he soon follows after akira (who is surprisingly quick on his feet). after akira picks himself up, arjuna offers his arm: ] It's best not to dawdle. [ plus, the distance seemed easy enough to cover. just one large jump... (if they miss, they technically only end up wet??) ]
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At least it gives Akira a sense of Arjuna's strength, which is, quite frankly, leagues above his or even Arsene's. He takes hold of the Servant's arm with a tentative blink, entirely unsure what to do with it. ]
Am I supposed to hang onto this...?
[ Are you going to carry him off into the sunset, Mr. Very Sadistic Science Major Upperclassman...? ]
tried to find the most uncomfortable icon possible
or at least, arjuna was of that philosophy. apparently. though, as usual, he quickly sees the error of his ways, whether he acknowledges it for what it is or not. (he doesn't). instead, he focuses on the aftermath and now on quickly making their escape.
when akira grabs onto his arm, arjuna's weapon de-materializes.
( titanic voice ) do you trust me? ] Yes, is that a problem? [ he doesn't seem to see the issue in it. a necessity was a necessity as far as he was concerned and as if to prove it, he snakes his other arm around akira. ye, it's time for taking the leap into the unset together. ]
carelesswhisper.mp3
...They don't have much time for him to be considering these things, so he pushes any reservations (stranger danger) aside and shakes his head hastily, fingers cinching into Arjuna's sleeve. (...idk which ascension he's at beej does he have sleeves...) He doesn't even manage to get a word in before they take off with a sudden burst of speed, hair whipping clean off his face as they hurtle toward the crack in the memory.
(rose voice) I'm flying, Jack!
The impact shatters the scene like a bullet through a windshield, and soon he's delivered back into the present—
—right into the middle of a public fountain. ]
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but, it seems they've both made it safely across the boundary of memory and reality. the one thing they can find solace in ... since they're now definitely soaked from the landing. the water is shallow and barely reaches their knees, but the splash of their landing was Enough.
arjuna is about to place akira down beside him, but his more dutiful nature prompts him to wait. the mysterious transfer student deserved that much for his efforts, or so arjuna briefly considers. in these thoughts, he steps towards the edge of the fountain, setting akira's feet down on the ledge that surrounds it; nice and dry. arjuna steadies him before, before speaking. ] You have my apologies. It seems I was... carried away.
[ as he often is .... whether in his blind leap or his arrows. ]
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And he doesn't mind a little bit of collateral splashing—he's actually expecting to get deposited right into the water, so it's a bit of a surprise when he's carefully perched on the lip of the fountain instead. It puts him above eye-level, so he finds himself blinking down at the bowman, expression staid as usual. (He's not upset, no worries bruh.)
Also he isn't sure if Arjuna understands bad jokes but he cracks one anyway: ]
Me too. Thanks for the lift.
[ Get it... 'carried away'... (............) He stuffs his hands in his pockets, a faint smile lifting at the corner of his mouth before hops backwards off the public fixture. As an afterthought, he extends a hand for Arjuna to take, in the unlikely event he needs help stepping out. ]
I'm Akira.
[ jsyk ]
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but, well, this probably wasn't the proper time for that. instead— ] Not at all. I simply did what needed to be done.
[ especially considering he may have been a catalyst to it all.
if he notices the joke, he pretends not to. as for the hand? he takes graciously. he sees it is likely a motion of good will, and it would be a shame to reject such an offer. when he steps right beside akira, he almost doesn't catch the fact that "akira" was indeed his name. it takes him a few long moments before. ] Archer— [ ah...
that might be confusing, maybe? ] Arjuna. At your service.