Entry tags:
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( introlog #5 ) strangerer things
You have spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Perhaps you've made some friends (or maybe an enemy or two). Either way, you aren't expected to spend all of your time on the Station. El Nysa needs you, after all, and you promised you'd help the planet thrive. Are you ready?
Submit an AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 OLYMPIA REP POINTS OR 2 WYVER REP POINTS, respectively, HERE or HERE. THESA STATION
All refugees on the station are called to the hangar where a large-scale teleporter has been set up; everyone will be sent to the planet together. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait. Before they depart, all new refugees will be given a starter kit!
You may have heard about earlier technical difficulties, but don't worry. I promise everything is in perfect working order this time. I'd say I tested it myself, but since that's not exactly possible, you'll just have to trust me! (Please.) The older refugees will also be there to guide you to ensure no one is left confused... or behind. Make sure you wait for them — I've been detecting something odd so I'll be having them meet you at the landing site. Good luck, refugees! Not that you'll be needing it or anything... The arrays begin to hum and glow, quickly building into a brilliant wash of light. It creates a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa. With the night sky as a canvas, the beam can be seen all the way from Olympia and Wyver — a view that has the natives whispering of blessings. As a sudden but beautiful aurora splays across the sky, the refugees down on the planet receive a message asking them to travel to the landing site — and warning them to prepare for what may come of the strange readings Zasere's gotten from the teleport itself. ON A BEAM OF LIGHT ![]()
Traveling through the light leaves the impression of blinding starlight, a strange sense of weightlessness, and a disorienting moment of total sensory deprivation. The radiance of your teleport hangs bright in the sky above you, a shimmering aurora that reflects off the calm waters below, visible for miles all around.
You've landed on a peninsula to the east of the South Outpost. There's little here — scattered trees on spring-barren plains, with a few overgrown, dilapidated structures poking out of the brush. All is quiet save for the keening of animals and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. This lonely desolation is hardly the bustling cities and vibrant cultures you were promised back on the station... BY CAMPFIRE'S GLOW. But waiting for you is a group of your predecessors, and with them, a veritable tent city, with portable stoves, coolers of food and drink, comfortable bedrolls, and cheerful rings of bonfires — all that you need to make merry of the night, courtesy of Overseer Voss, who has, thanks to his interest in blessed meteorological phenomena and refugees, decided to make a holy expedition of the affair. CLOSE ENCOUNTERS ![]()
Despite going off without hitch, the new refugees' arrival isn't entirely without incident. It seems that the "blessed" beam of light that brought the refugees down to El Nysa brought something else along with it — a sliver of the Storm. At least the beam was short enough that only a small fraction managed to squeeze through.
But it's enough to wreak a little havoc around the landing site and along the road back toward Olympia and Wyver — and even, for a few days, in the cities themselves. THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. The Storm is an undeniably destructive force, and that's proven with this small sliver's effect as it ripples across the continent. While there's no visible sign of its presence, strange phenomena soon begin to appear, corresponding with Zasere's odd readings. DECISIONS, DECISIONS... ![]()
The time is coming to make a choice — perhaps not a permanent choice, but unless you want to spend the rest of your nights out under the stars, you'll need to pick which city you will initially spend your time in. On the horizon, you will see that people have arrived to help you make that decision...
A FORK IN THE ROAD. Refugees and the hyper-religious wishing to hear Voss speak are not the only ones out and about under the light of the aurora. Citizens of both Olympia and Wyver have flocked to a point on the road midway between the cities and where the refugees have appeared, and they all have the same goal in mind: convincing the newcomers who have just descended in the blessed light of Thesa to come to their city and not the other.You've chosen your path, refugee, but that doesn't necessarily make it a permanent one. Watch out for the strange effects of the Storm, which linger still in the two cities and everywhere in between for the next few days before dissipating just as mysteriously as they came, but otherwise enjoy the welcome and make yourself at home — after all, this is home now. FINAL OOC NOTES
An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 REP POINTS FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE AND HERE RESPECTIVELY BY APRIL 29th 11:59 PM EST.
We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP. 1 SILVER = 1 US DOLLAR. |
i mean, the real reason he ditched it is b/c it's impossible to spell
And then it became noble. Nations are made of people, though, not higher purposes.
[ He steps back, as though that will get him a better picture of the wall, then knocks on it. It doesn't open… or whatever he expected it might do. ]
Nothing. Though I suspect if I open that door we'll be stuck back trying to fetch Moonlight Weed from Seek Valley. [ His first mission. And also, a euphamism meaning an impossible thing. ]
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[ He leaves Kirill, then, stepping over to the table beside the door. As he does, he says - ]
And I'd hardly say it became noble. I was still a wicked thing, even when I was a wicked thing getting paid by a different master.
[ And, very casually, he picks up a glass and, very casually, drops it on the ground and stomps on it hard. It splinters, and with it a bit more of the illusion. ]
It's like a puzzle. Rather fun, hm?
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[ He shakes his head. With some feeling: ] I hate these kinds of dungeons.
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Dungeons? Do you have a lot of experience with those?
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[ He might have a different idea of what a dungeon is than most people. ]
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One shudders to imagine what that would look like. Come, then.
[ He gestures towards the door, moving them on. Seems like there's one thing to break in each memory. Hopefully Nash will be the one to suffer next. ]
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What's on the other side is worse than he feared. This is the Circle Palace, a windowless room nevertheless filled with glass and light, blue reflected in the walls from the color of the tiles. That much glass and crystal is an enormous display of power and wealth, and the chamber is designed to accentuate it, with a small corridor leading to a circular dais. On the dais a man is standing— short, draped in ceremonial robes, capped with a blue mitre. A bishop.
Nash is kneeling in front of him on the steps, knees and fingers pressed full to the ground.
He stands up, and he and the bishop begin speaking closely. There's an obvious familiarity between the two, though their actual words might be difficult to make out from Byerly's initial vantage point. Something something elemental runes, something something. But then the bishop turns, looking down the hallway. "Who's there?"
Nash— who looks very much like the present-day Nash— draws a dagger from his belt. "I ordered everyone out of the room," he says, with an air of authority that seems surprising but not misplaced. "Do you intend to defy temple traditions?"
Behind Byerly, another Nash is standing. The one who came through the door. ]
Damn. You aren't supposed to see this.
[ His fingers brush the hilt of another dagger. ]
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Ah, a familiar pain. But there's a pleasure in getting to know each other a bit better, isn't there?
[ And he stands, and waits, and smiles. Seeing how long it will take before Nash pulls that hand off his dagger. ]
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Can't you just— cover your eyes, or something? I'll whistle really loudly.
[ Because there's nothing here to find out about Nash. His other self steps forward— to confront the man who has been standing behind a pillar this whole time, and now reveals himself. "You're Bishop Sasarai's—" the other Nash says, and then gets pushed aside by some unseen force. ]
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Then he might well kill him later. By's armed with a stunner, and if he shoots Nash then Nash will wake up within a few hours. And then, if this is information he'll kill to protect, then By will just die a few hours later. Great. Granted, he could stun Nash and then smother him where he lays unconscious, but -
No. By smiles, and drops his hand away from his gun, and pointedly turns his back on Nash to watch the memory. His shoulderblades itch with the anticipation of a dagger between them, but...Well, if it comes now, it would have come eventually, right? ]
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I really should kill you.
[ And it's not cowardice that stays his hand, exactly. He'd stabbed people in the back before— only one time literally, but still. It just doesn't seem worth it. So instead, he walks to the side of the room, pointedly ignoring the other figures, including his other self in a heap on the ground.
Nash remembers this part. He doesn't need to watch.
The two matching figures approach each other, the one demanding the True Earth Rune, the other refusing to give it. "Who do you think you are?" says the Bishop.
"You want to know who I think I am? Oh yes, I'll tell you who we are, you
and me." ]
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[ He tucks his hands into his pockets. Since he's apparently currently in the business of trying to provoke Nash into murdering him, he asks - ]
Clones, are they?
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Or it will be, when they get out of Holy Harmonia. ]
I don't know what that means.
[ Then he throws something like a smoke bomb into the middle of the room. It's not especially toxic smoke, unless you stand there breathing it in for hours, but something designed to cover an escape. The scene goes on in spite of it— and Byerly can probably make out Luc's globe of organs and body parts, magically suspended, his story of High Priest Hikusaak and his thirst for runes, his creation of perfect vessels.
Isn't really a commitment to state secrets that makes him throw the bomb, though it probably should be. Nash just wants to protect his own plausible deniability. And— Sasarai, who didn't deserve to have this happen the first time. You had to allow the lady the dignity of her veil. ]
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Tell me that isn't poison.
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[ Really, what is with Byerly and poison?
Meanwhile, Nash has found the flaw in the scene— one of the tiles on the dais. And so he stamps down on the ground, hard. ]