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.
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.
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Diva | Blood+ CW: gore, cannibalism, murder, child abuse, talk of pregnancy...nothing nice in here
[It's been awhile since she's seen this particular setting. Every inch of the old tower room has been memorized from years of being locked up and chained within its walls. The floors are hard, scratched up wood, the walls stone and equally abused. Aside from chains that hang from the walls and ceiling, there isn't very much in the room at all. There are windows but they're not very wide. Just wide enough to let light in, not to slip out of.
A little fanged girl, no more than four, with jet black hair, sits in one of the corners, scraping her sharp nails against the wooden beams of the floor. She's dressed in white rags far too large for her tiny body, a chain clearly visible around her tiny neck, shackling her to the wall. She seems bored, rightfully so, the scraping only stopping when she hears the sound of a lock open and the heavy, reinforced doors swing on their hinges. Suddenly, the bloodied corpse of a man is thrown past the threshold, hitting the floor with a sickening thud, the doors being quickly shut and locked once more. The child stares at it for a moment, before her blue eyes widen and she scrambles over to it, only to sink her teeth into the already flayed neck of the man. Little bits of flesh are torn off and consumed, the girl clearly ravenous as she goes to town on the body.
💀
Suddenly, the girl is older, but not by much, perhaps eight at best, naked and covered with blood. She seems to be being sponge bathed, standing still as her body is washed for her by an older man. There's evidence of carnage around her, the remains of what surly was dinner decorating the floor.
Why can't I go outside? I want to play.
Because you're a monster. Monsters aren't allowed to go outside.
It doesn't seem fair, as far as the girl's concerned, and she says as much, says she wants to run through the gardens she can see, smell the roses and gaze at clouds. No, the man says, only humans are allowed to do these things.
It's a lousy excuse but she keeps quiet after that, glaring daggers into the floor as she lets herself be wiped down and cleaned.
💀
The scene shifts, Diva looking as 'old' as she does now, staring expectantly at another man. He's much younger than the first, tall and dark haired. She tells him she wants to go to the ball being held tomorrow at the manor adjacent to the ruined tower, looking like Cinderella dressed in white rags, hair down to her ankles. He seems to smile at her sweetly, caressing her cheek saying she can go to the ball, that he'll make sure her Darling Sister Saya will happen upon the key to the tower and let her out - as long as she does a small favour for him.
Anything, she says, excitedly, fingers suddenly gripping the fabric of his shirt. Amshel I'll do anything. It isn't hard, what she has to do, he tells her, he just has to make him like her. The scene is suddenly murky but there's blood, the man looking pale as he lays on the floor with Diva straddling him, her mouth stained crimson, Amshel's neck equally as red. She's then suddenly sinking her teeth into her own wrist, drawing out blood of her own, only to be yanked down into a rough kiss by the man below her. It's a messy ordeal, her fangs bumping against his teeth, before she pulls away, wiping her mouth with the back of a hand.
Good girl, Diva.
But could a monster really be good?
💀
The next time she can make something out the light from the sun is blinding and there are screams all around her. She sees herself, covered in gore, waving around a severed head with utmost glee. Carnage is everywhere, the gardens looking like a slaughter house, white roses painted red from being coated with blood. Her laughter is ecstatic as she tears through person after person, quite literally ripping them apart with her hands. She bites, claws and destroys everything in her path, until the manor itself is set ablaze by candles knocked over in panic. No one is spared or shown mercy. Why should they be? They all played a part in her suffering, in keeping her locked away.
💀
There's no longer a tower or a manor burning brightly in the background. Instead there's Diva, dressed in a pretty white dress, hair being brushed out by Amshel. She's sitting in a chair in a lavish room, legs dangling off the edge as she swings them, her toes dragging against the floor.
Do I really have to have a baby, Amshel?
Her gaze is nowhere in particular as she lets herself be tended to, the man in question answering with a nod she can't see.
If you want myself and Solomon to make your wish come true, you have to do this for us Diva.
The look she gives the wall clearly says it all. She doesn't really want to have a baby, but she had made a deal. To get something you wanted, you had to give something in return. That's just how it was.
You're quite special, you know, a Chiropteran Queen. We'll find you a suitable bridegroom fit for someone of your status.
What will he be like? Will he be a King?
The answer she gets is nothing more than a laugh as Amshel finises brushing her hair, setting the brush on the vanity in the room. She's not sure why it's so funny. It makes sense, does it not? A Queen deserved a King, or at least someone of high standing.
I want to see my Sweet Sister Saya.
You will, soon enough.
💀
It's one hell of a ride and Diva's not exactly enjoying it. Throughout the whole experience she might be frozen in place, watching everything unfold or reactive and furious at what she sees. Or she might feel so disorientated that she's decided to sit in whatever corner she can find and cover her ears, burying her face against her knees. Ultimately, by the end of it all, she'll be in tears, digging her nails into her own scalp, cursing under her breath. If, on the rare chance, you're someone who's opinion that matters, maybe, just maybe, she might just try to cover your eyes.
Feel free to have your character see one or all of Diva's rotten memories. I'm down for anything!]
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[ a whisper, though he's clearly paying attention to the memories that are being shown. it doesn't bother him in the slightest that she's being treated so oddly--- of course she's not human! and neither is he. but the fact she's getting bathed like that, and then suddenly attacking a man and sharing her blood? that gets him to quietly approach the real Diva and cock his head before returning to see...
Diva, mercilessly killing. heads and bodies, blood and fire.
it makes his tail curl curtly and his ears flutter, no reaction but an awed stare. ]
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[She seems surprised to see him, before she's suddenly up on her feet, eyes watery as she slides her arms around his middle, burying her face into his chest. She doesn't understand what's going on, but her best friend is here and that's all that matters. Out of everyone she's met here he's never once judged her for what she is. The squeeze she gives him is tight, but not enough to hurt him or make him feel uncomfortable.]
Sponge baths are the worst! I hate them! I'll never have one ever again!
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[ and he happily accepts the hug, wrapping his arms around her. in the end, Diva is still Diva and her affection is genuine, despite seeing stuff that he doesn't complete understand or agree with. who's to say it's okay for him to judge her behaviors, when he might've chosen the more violent option way sooner than her? ]
... you really messed them up! Looks like they deserved it, though.
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They did deserve it. Every single one of them.
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[ because he really doesn't get it. the Diva he knows isn't a monster! ]
... none of those people are here, right? They're all still frozen?
[ and he puts his hand on her back as he closes his eyes and tries to block out the rest of the memories. he doesn't want them, and by the looks of it, neither would she. ]
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the carnage is still there. there are severed heads and zero's white dress is once again stained by the life-like memory unfolding before her. but she remains unhinged, her heart is heavy, but zero feels nothing in particular. she's trained to feel nothing in the face of death — this girl, diva, may have be a mass murderer, but she is doing it out of instinct. she told her she's a vampire, isn't she? zero didn't need to kill, she has no need to feed on blood. she simply did.
so, who's the bigger monster here?
zero touches the girl's shoulder; it may be unwanted, but it doesn't stop her. ]
Hey, stand the hell up.
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You're Zero, right?
[There's a quietness to her voice that seems out of place, with how usually chipper and childlike she can be.]
Your dress is ruined like mine.
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zero glances at her dress then at her own. her scoff of a laugh is a rather humorless one; she's just taking in the irony. they're more alike than she would like to admit, perhaps. ]
So it is. I've got some experience in the murdering everyone in cold blood department, you know. [ her hand is on her hip as she scrutinizes the girl. ] What's got you so down, aren't you used to this shit by now?
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[Her toes turn inward, blue shoes looking almost purple with the red coat they've received.]
But I had forgotten some parts. This happened over a hundred years ago.
[The slaughter, that is. There's part of a corpse not far from where she stands. A few steps and she's within kicking distance. A leg swings out to do just that - the limb her foot makes contact with skids along the ground, leaving a messy smear of blood behind it.]
It's the tower I don't like. It makes me angry. It makes me want to kill every human I've ever set my eyes on.
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This likely won't be the last time this planet manipulates him like so. While he's hardly the victim here, he's not so in inclined to having the past force-fed to him. A cowering Diva finds his sights eventually.
He's half tempted to leave her to her scalping. Instead, she should feel some weight against the base of her head. An open hand offering some vague form of reassurance.]
Your dreams are manifesting for everyone to see.
[Implying it's her fault at all, and that she has any control over this. Maybe she does? In any case, he's finally allowing his presence to be known, she can take solace in that...
Or kick his ass for invading her privacy.]
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It's not like she really understands what's happening, nor does she care about people intruding on her privacy. She's never had privacy in her life, not the way others do. That little girl chained in the tower had her sense of self fractured over a hundred years ago, after all.
The weight of a hand against her head is familiar, as is Solomon's scent and voice. She shuffles around in her spot on the ground, still hugging her knees as she looks up at him, only to reach out and hug his knees instead. Her big blue eyes are watery and she's clearly upset.
Were they dreams? Had she fallen asleep somehow? Either way, she hates it.]
Make it stop.
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That being said, he's not entirely sure how to tangibly shut this shit down. His fingers wind around her hair, not to pull it -- just toying with it a bit. A vague form of reassurance, maybe.]
It won't last forever.
[Seldom things do.]
Can you sing?
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His question gets her to pull her face back just enough to look up at him. Why would he be asking that now, of all times?]
Of course I can.
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But by the end of it, it's just another girl, and an upset one, at that. He thinks his mum would yell at him for walking away, something far worse than any breach of protocol. ]
Er, hey. [ said softly, as he crouches down to where she sits. His hands are clasped before him, the right swathed in bandages up and under the sleeve of his Olympian Guard blacks. ] I don't think we've met. I'm Eggsy.
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There isn't really anything remarkable about him, as far as she can tell, not even the bandages are something she gives a second thought. It's the name she's given that has her distracted enough from what's going on around her that she focuses and fixates on it instead.]
...Why are you named after eggs?
[Hey, it's a valid question.]
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He lowers his voice, as confiding a secret — in truth, no one else knows because they haven’t bothered to ask. ]
It’s ‘cause I don’t like eggs, actually. [ he pulls a face. ] Guess my mum and dad thought it was funny.
[ He could say that his name is really Gary, but the Eggsy story is true and funnier, so why bother? ]
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I like eggs.
[Not that he needs to know that or will care, but hey. She gives him another look over, dropping her hands from her head to her knees instead.]
You're not scared of me?
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2+4
Long before anyone had called Takasugi that, he'd taken the moniker for himself. When the word was spit at him in disgust, he'd only smile.
But he watches these memories with a somber stare. Monster. Human. Neither are creatures made to be caged.
That her release comes as a tide of bloodshed doesn't surprise him in the slightest. There's no thrill to be had in watching the carnage - the fight is one sided.
But he can taste the euphoria of revenge, and it breaks the frown on his face, cut into the smile he typically wears.]
Do you think of this day often? [He asks regardless of Diva's state - he's poised next to her, leaning into the wall of the castle hallway.]
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She's hugging her knees, black hair pooling around her, not bothering to look up at Takasugi. Her gaze is fixated at the scene still playing out before the two of them. It's a lot to recall and almost relive.]
Sometimes.
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Typically, he'd assume fear, regret, a sense of the loss of life at the scene had something to do with its repression.
But for Diva, Takasugi wonders if it's simply too commonplace an experience. Restraint and eruption, volleying back and forth at the whim of someone else.
He'd rather see her break free of her own volition - though he wouldn't expect it to be any less gruesome an undertaking.] How did you get out?
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My sweet sister Saya let me out.
[She raises a finger then, to point at a girl dressed like a noblewoman who looks just like her, with red eyes instead of blue, covered in blood and looking horrified, tears streaming down her face.]
Amshel left a key for her to find and she unlocked the door. In a way it's her fault they all died.
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[Will he ever be able to stomach it again, seeing this? By the time the massacre starts, he finally looks up and sees beyond the carnage around them -- and he sees the real Diva, being tortured by her own memories.]
[But he doesn't see a monster. He sees a victim -- a product of whatever disgusting system must have existed in her world to make her the way she is.]
[It's difficult to stomach it all, seeing so much blood. But he stands and breaks the distance between them, walking right through the illusion-like carnage to reach Diva -- and pull her into a hug, aiming to shield her from what's going on around them. By the time he's reached her, the illusion has changed again, and he ends up speaking over the voices, even as he hears them talking behind him.]
Don't... you don't have to look at it anymore.
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The sudden hug though has her stiffening for a moment, as her body simply allows the embrace to happen. She recognizes, after a second, who exactly is holding her. His name had been Shell, hadn't it? Another vampire but not like her. Even if she wanted to keep looking she couldn't. He's far too large for her to peek around, not to mention she's being held against his chest.
How unexpected.]
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[And when that happened, all he really wanted was for someone to hold him, just like this. So maybe Diva would want something like this too?]
[He keeps a hold of her until he sees the scenery around them change again -- this time, putting them back into reality on a random street in Olympia. For now, at least. But even then, he won't completely step away, just loosening his grip enough that she could easily step out of it if she wanted.]
...I'm sorry. I had no business seeing any of that.