natha: (Default)
ɴᴀᴛʜᴀ orbiters ❰ mod collective ❱ ([personal profile] natha) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs2018-04-09 07:55 pm
Entry tags:

( 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.

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.
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.

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.
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.

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.
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.
shikomizue: (Default)

[personal profile] shikomizue 2018-04-10 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
Just one quick question!! For the "Forgetting is so Long" prompt, would characters take the place of themselves in their memories, or would they watch the scene, their younger selves included, as an observer? Or is this up to player discretion?

Thank you!
baguablade: (Default)

[personal profile] baguablade 2018-04-10 12:45 am (UTC)(link)
"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."

How fast and loose is this meant to be played with? For example, could we see memories from any point in a character's canon even if it hasn't happened yet, or from another character in their canon even if it's not their own memory?

Elizabeth of York | The White Princess

[personal profile] hidden_and_patient 2018-04-10 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
Campfire Glow

It was still a great deal to take in, no matter if the surroundings were more hospitable than Lizzie first imagined. Though, she couldn't honestly say what she expected. Between her promise and waking in an unfamiliar environment, she had moved between station and planet as though in a daze, trying to focus her mind on the particulars, finding something that would offer her ground to stand on, a taste of the familiar.

Strangely, that came from a roaring fire and ale. Seated in front of it, Lizzie kept her eyes fixed on the horizon. Something felt off about the air around them, a charge that she knew from storms or the magic that her mother could call upon. It wouldn't be surprising if a flash of lightening appeared, it would at least explain the tension and pressure.

She held tightly to her cup of ale, glancing over at the figures around her. Many had been here longer, older refugees that had come to offer advice and...something else? Not comfort exactly, but maybe comradery? It was better than being strangers, wandering aimlessly in this odd and unsettling world.

"Does the shock ever wear off?" She asked the figure next to her.

A Fork In The Road

It was almost like being at market, only the wares being bargained and debated over were cities, cities trying to tempt them behind their walls. It was a strange sense of being courted, more assertive than anything she'd seen, but enough to remind her that she couldn't trust what others might say about Olympia or Wyver. They would want to woo new arrivals, pull them in with promises of comfort and a warm welcome. Men could easily lie, as she learned from her mother. Nothing was guaranteed but what she made for herself.

But there were temptations, beautiful baubles that pulled her eye. The pegasi were breathtaking, just as she had imagined them from the stories she was told as a child. Gently, she ran her hand down the nose of one, watching as her wings fluttered happily, a small sign of delight. If it was meant to sway her, it was a powerful reminder of home and something she recognized.

"You truly can own one?" That seemed impossible, even for a descendant of Melusine. "Have you tried flying on it?"

White and Gold

Olympia was larger than she pictured and many structures looked as though they had been recently repaired. It left her feeling uneasy, as though there was something that was being hidden from them behind the bright smiles and words of praise about these surroundings. The merchants tried to cover that, offering a number of different wares. She had no desire for food or drink at present, but new clothes were needed (as she only had one gown to her name).

A simple wool gown, nothing like she had worn when she became queen, but not unlike the garments she wore in Sanctuary. Once again, she was back where she had began, relying on the protection and care of others. She was a woman with no birthright, name or crown. She was simply Lizzie again.

These thoughts stopped her in her progress, leaving her standing in the middle of the path. It wasn't any wonder someone collided with her, jolting her from her daze. "Oh! I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?"
impavid: (Default)

[personal profile] impavid 2018-04-10 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
Are there any natural good points along the road between the landing spot and the outpost to seek shelter from the rain/hail/etc? Like natural cave systems, or ruins? Or should John just hope for really massive trees and pray for lack of lightning?
illuminescent: (Lucy - sunshine)

Lucy Pevensie | The Chronicles of Narnia

[personal profile] illuminescent 2018-04-10 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
i; the campfire

[If anything, Lucy looks tired; if more, she looks pleased, because she's good at this, at being in the middle of nowhere, at having these moments of freedom, at having a night under this star and storms and magic. It's waking her up. It's making her alert, now.

The fire isn't burning out but she reaches in and takes a stick right at the same time that someone else does, to feed it.]


Oh!

[There's a laugh from her.]

It's quite a sight, isn't it?

ii; fork in the road

[She listens to Voss speak, and there's something about it that makes her feel, well. She's not sure. She's watching the people come and she sees, oh, those are-]

Pegasi!

[She knows those, from Narnia, and she's a bright thing suddenly, going over to see them. She already lives in Olympia but given the option she knows she would certainly choose this. She comes close, close enough to grip the hand of someone nearby, and point.]

Look, aren't they beautiful things?

iii; wildcard

[Choose your own adventure!]
Edited 2018-04-10 01:09 (UTC)
constellationy: (oo1)

cinnamon | rune factory frontier

[personal profile] constellationy 2018-04-10 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
i;

[ Cinnamon has been slowly trekking through a bit of the forest — at a lazy pace, really. She saw a good few others go in, and she'd rather have someone to follow. Unfortunately, she lost them rather quickly, and has ended up on her own, within some looping scenery. She walks past the same tree for what feels like a dozen times, noting its unique pattern and holes in its trunk, proving it's itself time and time again.

But she oddly ... doesn't care much. There's a small part of her that's confused, deep down, but mostly, she remains the same — emotionless and walking through. One of these times she's bound to get out, right?

Okay, not right. And now she's gotten strangely bored and tired of this, so ... it's time to sit down against that tree and fall asleep. Maybe it'll solve itself when she wakes up.

So whoever you are, whenever you enter this little scenery loop with her, maybe watch out not to trip over her. ]


ii;

[ Suddenly, it's cold. So cold, in fact, that a blizzard starts up seconds later. And a bad one, at that — the snow filling the air mercilessly, making it difficult to see and difficult to ... feel warm, at all. Which isn't really a welcome feeling considering Cinnamon isn't entirely fond of the cold. But her only chance here is to try to keep moving so she can get out of the snow, no matter how difficult that is. ]

... I hate the cold.

[ She mumbles that to herself, just moments before she bumps right into someone else who's unfortunate enough to be stuck in this sudden blizzard. Good, because she was starting to get really tired of trying to move through this thing on her own. ]

iii;

[ Well, this is ... unfortunate. Cinnamon, and one other lucky soul, is now trapped within one of her memories. It's one of her past, as a child — when she was only around maybe seven years old. And she's ... happy, a bit more energetic. A stark contrast to how she is now. The Cinnamon of the past has many scholars surrounding her, within what appears to be a research lab, praising her endlessly as she shows off the way she can use magic to move a wooden cube around a table. She's a prodigy — she's created her own original magic, and it's completely blown everyone away.

But the Cinnamon of today merely stands there, quiet as ever and watching the scene, before she turns away to try and open a door to get out. But the door only has a wall behind it. Welp. ]


... I don't understand.

[ Like, at all. She's practically ignored her partner here, though. ]

iv;

[ The people of Olympia and Wyver are now trying to get people to choose a side, showing off their super cool monsters and coming up to people to suggest they try riding one.

Cinnamon doesn't seem particularly interested in either, as she stares at both stalls. The truth is, she's definitely a little interested in them ... but she doesn't show it. Mostly she's just interested in watching the scene, not having the energy to really get involved. Which is why when one of Wyver's representatives comes over to offer her a ride on one of their kickass flying serpents, her response is just: ]


... No.

[ ... That's seen as a strange response, as the man trying to sell her on it just stops in his tracks, having not expected such a blunt rejection. Maybe you think so, too? Or maybe you're on her side? ]

wildcard;

[ Feel free to come at me with something else, perhaps another memory of your own or something, or contact me at [plurk.com profile] dyingmoon if you wanna talk something out! ]
song_of_ice: ([Jon] Reflective)

Jon Snow | Game of Thrones

[personal profile] song_of_ice 2018-04-10 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
Mad Like a Red Priest (A Shepherd Over the Flock)

Religion no longer rested easy on Jon. The Old Gods were Lord Stark's gods, and so he had always honored them, even taking his vows before a Heart Tree. But since his resurrection, it was hard to ignore how so much of this sounded the same to things he had heard before. There were different approaches to worshiping (not everyone burned their sacrifices as the Lord of Light's followers did), but there was the warning about how you treat people, the blessings of the gods, etc.

He had gathered with the rest around the podium, curious to see if anything different would be said, but as it was much the same, he had begun to drift out. A crowd had gathered, making his retreat a little more difficult. Accidentally, he stepped on someone's foot, tripping and colliding into their shoulder. He was quick to catch them, keeping himself steady and helping the other person.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think so many would want to listen to this."

The Coming Storm (Forgetting is So Long)

His memories were kept close to the chest, shared only in certain circumstances and with those he trusted. The winds were fierce around him and the rain pelted against his face for a time, only to suddenly let up and disappear. It was in those moments of calm that things suddenly appeared to him. A simple blink and he was returned to Castle Black or Winterfell, moments of his life that had been personal were now displayed before the crowd.

His breath felt ragged in his chest as he stared ahead of him at the scene. "This isn't real. This can't be real."

[ooc: Specify if you want a Winterfell, Castle Black, or Army of the Dead memory.]

Fire and Blood (Wyver)

Everything still needed to be finalized, but Jon had already began to move his things from Olympia to Wyver. Going from the cool temperatures to the heat was a shock to his system. The cloak and heavy tunic he usually wore would have to be cast aside, leaving him feeling naked and vulnerable. But it wasn't only this that made him apprehensive and uncertain, though the decision to be with Dany was the right one.

It was the need for employment. He didn't want to transfer from the guards to the Wyver equivalent, but there was little else he was good at, save for swinging his sword. There weren't many options for a man that had lived his life as a soldier and settling would be a difficult thing. He never felt comfortable relying on others, but it was something he would have to do, at least until he finally made up his mind.

In wandering the city, he found himself suddenly at the fighting pits. It was hardly a place that he would want to go by his own freewill, let alone consider. Fighting for sport rather than honor didn't fall into his code of honor, from the looks of things, it was more for show than anything else. No different than the tourneys or melees he had seen growing up.

Despite himself, he watched from the sidelines, drawn in by the crowd's response and the skill of those fighting.

"These are volunteers? Men who choose to do this rather than slaves?"
song_of_ice: ([Jon] Beams)

Wine with a friend (Closed to Lucy)

[personal profile] song_of_ice 2018-04-10 01:19 am (UTC)(link)
[He hadn't seen her since the riots, when she had helped him at his weakest moments. Before then, the winter ball. So often their paths seemed to cross briefly before they were pulled apart again, but Lucy still existed in his heart and mind, someone he had come to know and care for. He had wondered after his friend, how she was managing and if she was happy.

Luck had never been a friend to him, but it seemed to be in this case. As he was returning to Olympia to pack a few more things, he found her near the entertainment district. He smiled warmly at her, stopping in his steps, his task already forgotten.]


It's good to see you.
diamondize: (Sometimes the most spiritual thing)

Diamond | Houseki no Kuni

[personal profile] diamondize 2018-04-10 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
[Campfire's Glow/Shepard over their Flock]

[Well Diamond has no idea what's going on, but they're happy to be here! Everything is much more...lush than back home, and everything is a marvel. However, it's dark and they're instantly getting tired, wandering around rubbing at their eyes and wearing a sleepily content/vague smile.

It doesn't help that they see to literally glow. Their hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows seem to reflect the light in a dazzling rainbow array, moving as their head moves and potentially lightly blinding anyone who looks directly at them. Oops.

They turn to the nearest person as the sermon finishes, hugging the staterkit to their chest, and smiles
]

I didn't understand anything they were saying. [They say rather cheerfully...And then promptly hold out their kit, moving the conversation along] Do you need any of these? I can't really use any of it...

[We Got Cows]

[Maybe that wind is threatening to blow you right off your feet--or maybe you actually do get swept right up! Never fear though, despite looking like a noodle, Diamond is here to save the day!

They'll grab anyone who looks like they're about to fall over or snatch anyone form the air to ground them. Anyone who's swept up into them will find themselves meeting an incredibly solid force that only staggers back a little before holding their ground and holding onto whoever hit them
]

Are you alright? Careful, you're pretty fragile! [It doesn't matter how big you actually are, to Diamond you're fragile. Diamond, however, doesn't seem uncomfortable or effected at all.] Come on, let's keep going!

[They then proceed to try and lift your character into a princess carry. And unless your character is over 600lbs, they'll probably be able to without much struggle.]

[Memories]

[Well at least Diamond's memory is a pretty epic fight scene? It might be a little traumatizing for people that aren't aware by this point that Diamond's a rock person, considering their body gets chipped and broken up and pieces break off. But they're clearly fine and the 'real' Diamond just looks a little embarrassed.

If it's not that memory, it might be one of them getting yelled at by a long-haired...girl...?? Either way, Diamond laughs uncomfortably and begins to move away, trying to find the way 'out'.
]

This is a dilemma... We might have to completely break out of here... [They trail off, staring down at the ground where there are some fractures running through and just. Hauls off and punches the ground, causing it to fracture further.] I don't want to stay here very much longer. It might show something really embarrassing, right? [All smiles!]

[Fork in the Road]

[They're drawn to Olympia side first because of the pegasi, gasping with open delight as they gaze upon them. So cute! They want to pet them! But the other Olympian-pushing natives pounce at the chance to push more on the gem, until Diamond is backing away from a couple woman proudly shoving bracelets and necklaces in Diamond's face.

Diamond laughs, high and nervous, hastily waving their hands as they continue backing away
]

Um, please no! That-- Doesn't that seem too cruel? [?? What in the world is cruel about jewelry?? Dia looks distinctly uncomfortable and almost ill.

What about this diamond bracelet? One of the women asks, and Dia looks like they're about to faint, offering only a meek whimper as they look around for help.

Save them. They know this isn't like it is back home--those jewels aren't sentient--but it's still not too far off from seeing a bunch of people wearing the bones and skin of your friends and family like decorations, you know?
]

[Wildcard!]

[Maybe after a long night you'll find diamond just passed out sleeping on the ground somewhere (sleeping like A ROCK hahah stop me), or poking and prodding around at everything, trying to chase animals and pick them up to cuddle them... Whatever! This is the prompt for other shenanigans and you can hit me up by PM or at [plurk.com profile] ovals!]
Edited 2018-04-10 02:17 (UTC)
nevernoaction: (concern)

Lie Ren | RWBY | OTA

[personal profile] nevernoaction 2018-04-10 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
Campfire Glow

[At least he has food and a place to sleep. For one night. Camping out isn't so bad, as he's been doing that for weeks on end. But that had been on travels with Team RNJR.

Now Ren finds himself very much alone. His team and everyone he knows are safe. He assumes. In stasis pods, he hopes. He misses their presence very much. Especially one friend in particular, who has been a constant at his side for years on end.

He's calm. He's quiet. That's how he is. But it doesn't mean he's happy about this situation. He might just be sitting near the fire, knees drawn up to his chin, staring intensely at the flames. Trying to figure out what to do with his life.

Do you feel like bothering this young man?
]


A Fork in the Road.

[So now it comes to this. If Ren's going to find a place to live, he needs to pick a city. Both sound equally good and he knows that he needs to take in as much information as he can so he can inform the rest of his team. When they eventually arrive.

He needs to make a decision and he has zero background knowledge which choice is the right one. Or if there's no wrong choice? He's going to need more information.

So you may find a slim young man with long black hair (and one pink streak) walking toward you.
]

Can I ask you something about these cities?


Wildcard!

[Want to get Ren in even more trouble? Please get him stuck in your memories for fun or drag him to your town, if you'd like. Or let me know if you'd like to try something completely different! PM this journal or harass me at [plurk.com profile] draculabackwards]


Edited 2018-04-10 01:31 (UTC)
unos: (ᴄʟɪᴍʙ to the ceiling)

Kotarou Katsura | Gintama

[personal profile] unos 2018-04-10 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
( I. A FORK IN THE ROAD. )
[ Katsura can appreciate the benefits of a good recruitment drive. Once he realizes the two factions are gathering he sets off to check out each city's tent and judge their methods - and finally decide which one seems more worthy of his attention, of course.

But then he sees the pegasi and abandons his plan without a shred of hesitation. He pounces on the opportunity to take one for a ride, eagerly following after the handler to a particularly docile pegasus that doesn't seem the least bit bothered by this long-haired newcomer. But rather than actually saddling up and climbing on, Katsura is immediately distracted by just petting the unusual creature. Its so soft, and unlike most animals Katsura dotes on it doesn't seem to mind the onslaught of affection at all.

Katsura's attention isn't totally occupied by the pegasus, however, and at some point he breaks from rubbing his face against its mane to address someone who happens to be passing by (or who happens to be staring at the weirdo cuddling a pegasus).
]

Ah, are you interested in pegasi, too? You should pet this one - he's exceptionally soft.

[ And then he waits expectantly, because what sort of person would say no to that offer? ]

( II. FORGETTING IS SO LONG. )
[ It's immediately obvious that something has changed. A field in the middle of a storm is pretty different from the deck of an airship on a clear, sunny day, after all. Katsura recognizes this place in an instant, and while he doesn't quite trust that it's not real he quickly recognizes that things aren't quite behaving as reality should.

After all, it's an open space with no hiding places, but the two men standing on the deck haven't reacted to or even noticed Katsura and the stranger that got dragged along for the ride. That enough is to make Katsura turn to his 'guest' and start trying to usher them away, waving his arms around and shouting a bit.
]

Ah, hey! It's not nice to eavesdrop, and that guy in the bandages looks like he'll try to recruit you to do something dangerous, right? We should get out of here!

[ 'That guy in the bandages' will be recognizable as Takasugi to those that know him, whereas the second man is obviously Katsura himself, albeit with his hair chopped off to above his shoulders. Even over the real Katsura's yelling, it's not hard to overhear that two of them are having a terse argument about 'sensei', someone named Gintoki, and destroying the world. ]

( III. WILDCARD. )
[ Hit me up with a starter of your own! ]
vorrutyer: (world-weary (and smug))

Byerly Vorrutyer | The Vorkosigan Saga

[personal profile] vorrutyer 2018-04-10 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
I. Forgetting.
[ This house was splendid, once upon a time. That much is quite clear. Through a window, it's clear that the place is positioned for defense, a sheer drop beyond the orchard wall. The ceilings are high, the decorations ornate, the fabrics and furnishings made of fine old velvet and handsome wood. But the home has clearly suffered - that much is clear; the walls and floors are dirty, the tapestries tattered; there's a smell in the air, must and something gone rotten. The culprit is not neglect, for this space is not neglected; it is excessively lived-in, the clutter of useless broken things dotting every surface, hoarded in every corner.

There are two teenagers in the room, a boy and a girl. He plays a fine violin, she a gorgeous piano. The music is a duet, sweet and solemn. The boy is very recognizably Byerly, though a Byerly rather different from the one of today. He's dressed in clothes not in the mode, his wrists and ankles protruding from his clothes, with hardly any sense of aesthetics and fashion; his face is clean-shaven; his hair is rather mussed; and there's an odd sort of earnestness to his manner. This boy grins unselfconsciously as they play, clearly delighted by the quality of the music. In contrast, the girl - his sister, visibly; she looks nearly identical to him - keeps her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, putting her heart into it. He's good; she's phenomenal.

Beside them stands Byerly, Byerly as an adult, his face vaguely wistful. ]


II. Of white and gold.
[ By is cheerfully ready to serve as Olympian tour guide. He approaches any visible newcomer with a broad, rather mocking smile, a deep bow - ]

I see that Olympia is getting all the gorgeous ones. Aren't we lucky. What aspects of the city are you interested in exploring, dear creature?
shashka: credit | <user name="fustercluck"> (bringing down corporate synergy)

[personal profile] shashka 2018-04-10 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
i. who cares about cows?
[ it was bad enough having to listen to Voss drone on and on about the "glory of Thesa", in Ocelot's opinion. what was even worse was the "unusual weather" they were having as they made their way back to civilization. for the life of him, Ocelot couldn't quite figure out how one group could be so simultaneously incompetent-seeming, while also capable of rescuing billions of lifeforms from the Storm. maybe you come across him in the middle of a flash-blizzard, looking a little colder than he'd like to admit... ]

It's fine, we're used to this weather back home.

[ nothing wrong with a little "Russian pride". or you might catch him in the middle of a hail storm, making... interesting use of his guns, spinning them over his head, creating some manner of makeshift umbrella almost like so. ]
ii. past, present, future
[ none of it quite seems real to Ocelot, but nevertheless, he remembers it all.

you might find yourself in the middle of a memory featuring a young man completely sure of himself, a certain arrogance in his stride. yet, when he goes in to try and kill you, he falls victim to his own arrogance, as you easily take him down, all the while telling him that in the end, he's "pretty good".

you might see that same young man yet again, facing down that very same enemy, insisting that they're both men, not just soldiers. still, when he is about to give his name, you can hear nothing, and what the man says in return is equally lost.

or, there might be an old man on his "death bed", while another man looks on, similar to the first one but not quite the same, as he utters his final words.

or maybe it's a different memory entirely, whether it's one of yours or one of his. who can really tell, after all. ]
iii. a fork in the road
[ thanks to the whole "debacle" from the previous month, far too many people know Ocelot as an "Olympian Hero" for his liking. he's far more fond of coming and going as he pleases, but apparently such situations can't exactly be helped. still, instead of heading over to the Olympian area, he's keeping himself around the fork in the road, more than eager to stop any refugee who happens to walk by. for good measure, he's accompanied by DD, his ever-loyal companion, who is more than happy to stop a passerby or two. ]

What do you think of all of this? And don't worry, he doesn't bite.

[ after all, getting to know his fellow refugees is always one of his top priorities. ]
iv. wildcard.
[ have something else in mind? want me to go into a little more detail for a custom memory share? let me know over at [plurk.com profile] roflskate
Edited 2018-04-10 01:45 (UTC)
bruxisms: quality RPer (Default)

[personal profile] bruxisms 2018-04-10 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
When it comes to memories, is it possible for a character to see one of a counterpart of theirs? For example, could Stannis, who is from a Song of Ice and Fire, see a memory of Stannis from Game of Thrones?
planetary_bonds: (polished by me) (side eying you so hard rn)

iv

[personal profile] planetary_bonds 2018-04-10 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
[A soft chuckle comes from the man's right, and the sound of a steam engine can be heard. Following the voice leads to a man on his own ride - neither horse nor serpent, but a motorbike. The bike itself looks to be modeled off some sort of rickshaw, as it's toting an empty carriage behind it, and the man sitting on it...doesn't seem to be following any sort of safety laws whatsoever. He's not wearing a helmet, and the closest he's got to any kind of protective wear is a pair of goggles that are currently resting around his neck. He's not even wearing a suit or pads, instead apparently opting for rough leathery pants and a plain collared white shirt that's not even fully buttoned, revealing bandages wrapped around his wrists and neck. Never mind the rest of his somewhat outlandish appearance, he's clearly not a native at all...]

Well? [His voice is low, but it shows some amusement, at least.] You heard what she said.

[The man turns his bemused stare onto the newcomer, who only stares stoically back. Joy.]
shikomizue: (pic#10797493)

wildcard

[personal profile] shikomizue 2018-04-10 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
[Takasugi isn't here to lobby for anyone's allegiance. For the moment, he's settled into taking advantage of the eager showcase of national pride to get himself a meal, and a seat among the stands to enjoy it.

Though, the view that accompanies his dinner is pretty pathetic.

A particular idiot wandering around has caught his eye - from the way he dotes on the horses to a few instances of the man following the same path.

Takasugi assumes that's due to Zura getting lost, overwhelmed by 'hospitality', rather than an intergalactic anomaly.

The only stellar irregularity here is Zura's brain.

Tossing the last of the skewer sticks to his plate, Takasugi rises to intercept the man's path by falling in step with him.

He doesn't have time for a coy greeting. The moment his foot falls into grass beside his old comrade, they're transported away from the field. Wood creaks beneath them, an expanse of hallway in familiar, Edo style.

It's dark, the air is crisp with the scent of night, and another Takasugi roams the halls. There's a bit of a sway to his steps, just a hint more than his typical saunter, and when he reaches the next available sliding door, he leans his head into the wood.

This memory isn't familiar. He must have been drunk. Takasugi fixes his gaze on Zura, rather than whatever scene is unfolding before them.]
Yo.

Looks like they kicked us out of their party.
seeingscarlet: (snark; 135)

the coming storm

[personal profile] seeingscarlet 2018-04-10 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Jon?" A moment, a single step, and the world shifts sideways into something else. It's almost like stepping into a vision, but something about it feels too real. It's cold, and looking at the castle in front of them she can't help but wonder if there's a nice, warm fire somewhere in there. "What happened? Where are we?"

She doesn't think they've gone anywhere - she can still feel the crowd, but muffled. Try though she might, Wanda can't psychically struggle free from whatever this is, although her eyes briefly flicker red with the effort.
adelphoi: (🍰 ᴘᴜᴍᴘᴋɪɴ)

alisaie leveilleur / final fantasy xiv / wyver

[personal profile] adelphoi 2018-04-10 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
i; marshmallows toasting on an open fire
[ wow. a new batch of refugees have reached the planet, and nothing has exploded/caught on fire/gone terribly wrong?? how could this be?? maybe the natha are finally getting their shit together.

either way, she certainly isn't complaining, and this is the first real adventure she's been able to have since sustaining her injury. her leg is still stiff and a little sore, the scars bright and angry and pretty gnarly, but she can move about easily enough now. besides, exercising it can only be good, right? even if it isn't, there's absolutely no keeping her indoors today, not when there are new refugees to see to.

so she's happily bustling about, helping to get people situated, to set up tents and delegate bedrolls and, most importantly, sitting alongside the merry, crackling fire, roasting a big fat marshmallow on a sharpened stick. but protective as she is with her sweets, she cannot get through this bag alone, and so she lifts it to the person beside her. ]


Would you like one?


ii; another cow.. i think that was the same one
[ all right. look. normally she's not one to complain about the weather, but this is getting a bit absurd, isn't it? and worrisome. incredibly worrisome. but when a sudden gust of wind knocks her right onto her bottom while she's breaking down her tent, she's mostly just annoyed.

and because it can always get worse, it gusts again soon after, sending the canvas of her tent flying, and bringing with it a narrow swath of heavy rain that thoroughly and immediately soaks her to the bone. like a little private stormcloud over her head, and hers alone.

B| ]


..typical.


iii; the binding coil, memory edition
[ of course it should be that the storm would show her these memories. these times that had shaped her, broken her down, fortified her, and though it aches to be reminded again so viscerally, so to does it.. reinvigorate her cause.

our stage is an enormous underground cavern yawning wide, lit by the pale blue glow of strange machinery, and a deep red that pulses from the thing at its heart. a dragon, absolutely massive - or at least, part of one. he is still yet incomplete, rebuilt slowly, surely, and though he is still and unmoving there is a sense of activity about him, the prickling sensation of being watched, for the great wyrm yet lives, in a sense, his will too strong to suppress, infusing into the atmosphere an oppressive weight. even as a memory, alisaie can still feel it squeezing her heart. a platform of steel juts out toward him, the lights of ancient control panels still humming and singing, this place a strange juxtaposition between the natural earthly majesty of the cavern, and the cold, artificial static of allagan technology, ancient and yet enduring. this place feels strangely alive.

the binding coil of bahamut.

not in a thousand years could she forget this place, or what transpired here, though the memory plays itself out nonetheless. she can do little more than watch the shade of her younger, softer self, her brother, her grandfather. this conversation just as she remembers it, her beloved grandsire transforming before her very eyes into the primal phoenix - gods, how easy it is to recall her despair, the blow that this revelation had been to her heart, how difficult it had been to make the choice to destroy him, her dear, beloved grandsire, the man who had understood her better than anyone else in the world. how hard it had been to lose him a second time.

and yet, she has come so far, since then. the girl she sees before her seems but a phantom to her eyes, so young and naive, so easily broken. so very unsure of herself. must she see this memory through to the end in order to escape it? there is but one way to find out. ]


iv; tour guide barbie(?)
[ though alisaie is familiar with both cities, it is wyver that she currently calls home, so once they reach the fork in the road that is the way she turns, more than happy to guide those in need toward their housing, or whatever respective shops they would like to see.

come to the tiny girl with all your needs!! ]


v; wildcard!
[ not keen on any of these options? i'm flexible, feel free to throw things at me!! i can be reached on plurk at [plurk.com profile] owlcoholic or by pm if you have any questions or want to plot something out!! ♥ ]
monya: (7)

Morgana | Persona 5

[personal profile] monya 2018-04-10 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
campfire
[ sitting by one of the fires alone, he's kicking his feet idly while staring at the crackling source of heat. it's probably easy to mistake him for a stuffed animal, some kind of anthropormorphic cat wearing a tiny yellow bandanna around its neck and a tool belt that looks to be lined with a few pouches of different shapes and sizes. at first, Morgana doesn't make sound--- just thinking with his eyes closed before gently sighing before muttering to himself. ]

I wonder if we could've gone on a camping trip.

[ his tail flexes as it dangles down his little perch. not sitting with others meant not having to answer any questions about who he is and his form out in the open, too. he knows he's not in the Metaverse, yet being able to hold his bipedal form begs more questions. but for now, he enjoys his solitude until it's broken, ears flitting once in a while. ]

deja vu
[ there is a very good chance that the cat you might run into is black with white paws and a white muzzle along with a yellow collar. the first time, the cat is definitely walking across your path toward another direction, taking a second to observe you with an unusual stare and smile before going on its merry way with its tail upright and maybe even humming as it disappears off into the distance.

but then when you run into it again on the same path, it now sits in your way with an accusatory frown. ]


Hey. Are you following me? You're doing a pretty bad job. Do you have something against... uh, cats?

[ it winces saying the last bit, about the cats, almost struggling to even suggest it. ]

not your average tourist - Olympia
[ and so he does make it to Olympia, which seems like the better choice comparatively. still, he doesn't know much other than the information provided in the Super Great pamphlet and all the Extremely Convincing people that didn't really talk to him. who tries to bribe a cat, anyhow? still--- he follows with the crowd of newcomer refugees, and just hopes that someone will take pity on him: a cat who clearly looks like it needs a home?

it's the way he likes it: a way to do a little bit of recon and maybe get a quick laugh out of it, too. ]


---

[ ooc: i'm happy to carry over any TDM thread as canon, so let me know if you'd like to! hmu via PM if details need to be ironed out. ]
impavid: (❖ Told you a thing or two)

John Sheppard | Stargate: Atlantis

[personal profile] impavid 2018-04-10 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
BY CAMPFIRE'S GLOW:
Camping is something John is used to. The Atlantis Reconnaissance teams often end up camping on new planets, in all sorts of weather, after dialling the gate. Sometimes with their own equipment, sometimes with locals.

The difference here is the lack of people he knows. The firelight is still reassuring, the presence of people does something to gentle some of his unease, but they're strangers nonetheless and Sheppard just prefers camping with people he knows won't stab him in the back. He's old fashioned that way.

Still, can't deny the view. John is standing a little away from the group, eating a bowl of stew as he watches the lap of the waves and the light patterns in the sky. It makes him homesick for Atlantis in a way that hurts more than he'd readily admit. The endless ocean, the alien sky. If everything that they've been told is true it's a city he'll never see again.

It's a long moment before he senses another presence, then John turns a little to acknowledge someone nearby.

"Nice night," he opens with, then drifts his gaze back out over the water. "You think there's any good surfing spots around here?"

Which is a much safer topic than anything else on his mind.

A SHEPHERD OVER THE FLOCK:

Voss certainly knows how to talk. He knows how to talk, to get the attention of a crowd while talking and to stir them up. It's something John finds begrudgingly impressive and also disturbing. He's seen fanatics before, and he's read about the Prior and about the Goa'uld. Nothing about the situation sits comfortably.

Still, John knows better than to walk away. Listening means he'll learn something, and learning is how he'll know if this is regular fanaticism or the dangerous kind. Yet the longer he listens the more he fidgets. Like he's longing to say something, and only just about suppressing it. It's when Voss begins to draw near to his close that Sheppard loses the battle, turns slightly and lowers his voice to the person nearest to him --

"Well I'm glad we agree on avoiding the hurt and torture," he mumbles, although the fact that Voss is shaming the acts makes him wonder -- has that happened? How recently?

WE GOT COWS:

After walking in circles for longer than he'd like to admit (which, definitely, was not his fault) John finally digs something that looks like a rugged PDA and begins fiddling with it. The sky had seemed like it had cleared up, but as he's progressing down the road and trying to calibrate it he begins to feel the light dim.

The clouds draw in, and John feels first the gentle patter of rain -- then a wall of it. He runs through torrents of rain with a curse, then hail, then more rain until he finally finds a little shelter in what's left of some abandoned structure. The walls are not particularly secure, but there's at least a little roof still. The hail, staying in a peculiarly exact patch, continues on and John takes a moment to try and brush ice and water off himself -- squinting down at the device in his hands before he notices the blip on the screen that indicates company. He wheels around and locks his eyes onto the person with him, taking a moment to assess the threat level before carefully relaxing.

"Hi," he manages, and begins to carefully turn off the device and pocket it. "Nice weather we're having."

He's freezing, for the moment anyway.

FORGETTING IS SO LONG:

Once the storm seems to have receded back to sunshine, at least momentarily, John begins moving again. Patches of the road are now muddy, but unnervingly the storm has been selective and some areas look untouched. Freak weather happens, but something about this particular storm is... especially freakish. He's splitting his attention between the road and the device he's dug out of his tactical vest again, making a second attempt to see if he can calibrate it, when he feels the ground give way to what feels like sand.

It is sand, too, and lots of it. A whole deserts worth of sand, and oddly he seems to be dressed to blend in with sand.

Which he definitely wasn't before.

John freezes, eyes carefully roving around the sand dunes before landing on the crashed helicopter behind him.

This... is at least not the first time this has happened to him, but it doesn't make it any more comfortable.

He takes a steadying breath and checks his scanner again. There's someone here, but if it's a real person or not is anyone's guess.

He wants to walk away from the helicopter, he wants to just walk away from this whole island at this point, but he can't really do that. He knows he can't. So he walks toward the helicopter anyway. It's Russian, mangled and buried enough in the sand that it's been there a while. The sand is otherwise empty, quiet, but the distant injured figure hiding under it resolves as he backtracks closer.

"Sheppard," the figure manages. "What the hell are you doing here?" John stares down at Holland, and tries to remind himself he can't be real. "You're out of your mind, you know that? Where's the rest of your crew?" Memories conflate, and John thinks of Teyla in the stasis pods. Of Ronon, Mckay, of everyone who had been back on Atlantis. His heart clenches and he finds himself moving toward Holland anyway, as if he could make a difference. As if he could do something to change how the memory goes. "You flew back in here alone, didn't you? Against orders, am I right?"

John shrugs reflexively.

"Command was taking too long co-coordinating extraction scenarios with the Afghans. I didn't think I could wait much longer, and from the looks of it I was right."

He digs for something to bandage up Holland's leg with, eyes flicking around the desert uneasily for signs of approaching figures. They land on some movement and John freezes for a moment, then moves carefully in front of Holland and reaches for where his mind tells him he should have a weapon.

A FORK IN THE ROAD:

By the time he reaches the midway point, John is exhausted. People are trying to give him more leaflets, drinks, fancy horses and tell him all sorts of stories but in the end he finds all he wants is a moment of peace and quiet. He moves himself a safe distance from the crowd, sits down by a tree and tries to tune out everything as he keeps an eye on the proceedings. The drink the Olympian delegate had given him is nice, at least, and the horses and serpents are both... cool. Still, he knows he should make a more rational choice. If he had the energy for it. Maybe... in a few minutes. Distracted, he takes another sip of his drink and lifts his eyes to the person slinking over to another nearby quiet patch.

"Not enjoying the sales pitches?"

Since that's what it feels like to him, like people competing to sell him a new car. Only the car comes with strings attached.
Edited 2018-04-10 02:02 (UTC)