You have spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Perhaps you've made some friends (or maybe an enemy or two). Either way, you aren't expected to spend all of your time on the Station. El Nysa needs you, after all, and you promised you'd help the planet thrive. Are you ready?
Submit an AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 OLYMPIA REP POINTS OR 2 WYVER REP POINTS, respectively, HERE or HERE. THESA STATION
All refugees on the station are called to the hangar where a large-scale teleporter has been set up; everyone will be sent to the planet together. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait. Before they depart, all new refugees will be given a starter kit!
 You may have heard about earlier technical difficulties, but don't worry. I promise everything is in perfect working order this time. I'd say I tested it myself, but since that's not exactly possible, you'll just have to trust me! (Please.)
The older refugees will also be there to guide you to ensure no one is left confused... or behind. Make sure you wait for them — I've been detecting something odd so I'll be having them meet you at the landing site. Good luck, refugees! Not that you'll be needing it or anything...
The arrays begin to hum and glow, quickly building into a brilliant wash of light. It creates a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa. With the night sky as a canvas, the beam can be seen all the way from Olympia and Wyver — a view that has the natives whispering of blessings.
As a sudden but beautiful aurora splays across the sky, the refugees down on the planet receive a message asking them to travel to the landing site — and warning them to prepare for what may come of the strange readings Zasere's gotten from the teleport itself.
Traveling through the light leaves the impression of blinding starlight, a strange sense of weightlessness, and a disorienting moment of total sensory deprivation. The radiance of your teleport hangs bright in the sky above you, a shimmering aurora that reflects off the calm waters below, visible for miles all around.
You've landed on a peninsula to the east of the South Outpost. There's little here — scattered trees on spring-barren plains, with a few overgrown, dilapidated structures poking out of the brush. All is quiet save for the keening of animals and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. This lonely desolation is hardly the bustling cities and vibrant cultures you were promised back on the station...
BY CAMPFIRE'S GLOW. But waiting for you is a group of your predecessors, and with them, a veritable tent city, with portable stoves, coolers of food and drink, comfortable bedrolls, and cheerful rings of bonfires — all that you need to make merry of the night, courtesy of Overseer Voss, who has, thanks to his interest in blessed meteorological phenomena and refugees, decided to make a holy expedition of the affair.
Settle in, meet new comrades, and enjoy yourself, for you've safely completed your journey. But don't wander too far from the fires — the dark is closing in, and there's a strange, electric feeling in the air, the scent of ozone drifting on the breeze. And what were those odd readings Zasere mentioned?
A SHEPHERD OVER THE FLOCK. The spring sun dawns on a grey morning, already burning away the fog rolling in off the sea. It quickly becomes apparent that Voss and his entourage of acolytes have been up for hours, hard at work. They've set up a brightly-draped stage and a travel pulpit, magically enchanted to amplify his voice, and as the sun breaks over the horizon, Voss is all set to do what he does best: proselytize.
 As our Goddess has sent Her blessing once before to herald the coming of those touched by Her light, so She has done once again! Here you see them, those surrounded by the light of our Goddess, each of them bearing the mark upon their skin of Her holiest of hands! Do you not see? Do none among you bear witness to the righteousness of Her message? Perhaps this is why our people have shamed themselves in front of our Goddess—
[ He continues for another 15 minutes... ]
Nevertheless. See you them before us now! See them as they are, coming to our gates with Her reminder, that these people must be treated with the utmost respect and care. Thesa's divinity is not to be treated with such flagrant disregard! Those who She chooses are not ours to use as mindless fodder, to hurt, to torture — shame upon those who allowed such deeds to shame us under Her watchful gaze!
To those of you who have just arrived here on our doorstep, be not afraid! The Temples of Thesa welcome you to our home with hearts and minds open! Should you ever find yourself in need of solace, seek out the Temples, as there are no greater allies to you than those of us within the Temple walls. You are welcome all to Olympia!
As he steps away from the enchanted podium, he can be heard saying aside to an acolyte, "How was that? Heavy on the shame, but I think it went well!" While he will not leave the area immediately, his acolytes will politely turn away attempts to speak with him and remind anyone interested that they can leave a message at the Temples.
Despite going off without hitch, the new refugees' arrival isn't entirely without incident. It seems that the "blessed" beam of light that brought the refugees down to El Nysa brought something else along with it — a sliver of the Storm. At least the beam was short enough that only a small fraction managed to squeeze through.
But it's enough to wreak a little havoc around the landing site and along the road back toward Olympia and Wyver — and even, for a few days, in the cities themselves.
THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. The Storm is an undeniably destructive force, and that's proven with this small sliver's effect as it ripples across the continent. While there's no visible sign of its presence, strange phenomena soon begin to appear, corresponding with Zasere's odd readings.
They're innocuous little things at first. A sudden silence, animals going quiet, insects stilling. All technology, no matter how advanced, ceases working. You discover when you check with a friend, the clock on your phone is twelve minutes slow even though you'd swear only a minute had passed — time missing. Walking through the woods takes longer than it should when brushing past one bush leads to brushing past that same bush again — and again, and again, the area looping on itself. It keeps you trapped, going in circles for minutes, even hours, before finally releasing you in a random direction.
Or perhaps you'll feel a sense of deja vu, like you've walked down this road, taken this turn, seen that bird fly from this branch before. This is the second time that cat has crossed your path. The person you're meeting, you already know their name; you're certain you've already met.
WE GOT COWS. The Storm sliver also ushers in sudden, localized weather anomalies — heavy storms, blizzards, strong winds, and more. Affected areas range from just a few feet wide to nearly half a mile. One minute, the sky may be sunny and clear, but the next dark storm clouds roll in, unleashing torrential rain. Small tornadoes surge along the road, kicking up winds strong enough to knock people over and carry objects away. Hail hurtles down from the sky, but only in a ten foot radius. Temperatures fluctuate wildly between one extreme and the next, from heat waves to cold snaps. Soupy fog blankets the area, thick enough that you can barely see your hand in front of your face. Good luck finding your way!
FORGETTING IS SO LONG. The visions come on suddenly and with very little warning. One second, you're carrying on as normal — but the next, you blink and find yourself (and anyone near you) somewhere else completely. You may recognize this place as a moment from the past, one that you lived through. It's a memory, your memory, and it now replays around you in exceptional detail, unnervingly lifelike. Or you may not recognize it at all. It might belong to the person next to you, or to someone else entirely — a memory that the Storm has swallowed up.
Either way, the scene plays out just as it once did, and there's nothing you can do to stop it — or escape it. The memory surrounds you to no end: every door you open leads nowhere, every hallway you turn down continues on forever, every horizon you flee toward hangs just out of reach. And linger too long or turn the wrong corner, and you may find yourself abruptly stuck in a completely different memory. It's almost tempting, then, to give up, to let the past sweep you away...
But this isn't the full might of the Storm. Look closely, and you can see that in the walls of this trap, there are minute, hairline cracks, a facade of fractured glass. Imperfections in the memory where the real world is breaking through. It seems the only way to escape these memories is to find those cracks and break through them — by force, by will, or by some other method entirely.
The time is coming to make a choice — perhaps not a permanent choice, but unless you want to spend the rest of your nights out under the stars, you'll need to pick which city you will initially spend your time in. On the horizon, you will see that people have arrived to help you make that decision...
A FORK IN THE ROAD. Refugees and the hyper-religious wishing to hear Voss speak are not the only ones out and about under the light of the aurora. Citizens of both Olympia and Wyver have flocked to a point on the road midway between the cities and where the refugees have appeared, and they all have the same goal in mind: convincing the newcomers who have just descended in the blessed light of Thesa to come to their city and not the other.
They've come with bribes — that is, examples of what their cities have to offer. If you spent much time at the exhibition up on Thesa Station, you might recognize some of what's being shown off, though the offerings here are markedly more tangible, and shown off by hawkers wearing substantially fewer clothes.
A herd of pegasi accompanies the Olympians, while a line of flying serpents is stabled at a tent bearing Wyver colors. Refugees are given the chance to experience solo flights and are told that if they prove their loyalty, they may have the privilege of owning such fine beasts one day themselves. The Olympians have also brought couture clothing, jewelry, and makeup to offer a taste of Olympian splendor, while the Wyver delegation has brought along fine weapons, sense-enhancing jungle plants, and small vials of diluted dragon’s blood (drinking confers a temporary boost in strength) to demonstrate their might. The Olympians speak proudly of the glory of the Temples of Thesa; the Wyverns speak of the Volkkran Pact and inform newcomers that they can make a pilgrimage to the summit of Namarak Mountain at the next full moon.
This is as good a time as any to compare your plans with others around you and exchange contact information before going your separate ways with people who are going to the city you are not. When you’re ready to go, don’t worry about safe passage — the natives of each city will gladly escort you there in luxury.
OF WHITE AND GOLD. The people of Olympia are ecstatic that you’ve come to join them... So much so that they’ve prepared a grand tour of the city for the new arrivals. You will be introduced to the major businesses in the city, including businesses that they are proud to point out were founded by refugees.
Refugees who have been here for some time already are encouraged to pair up with newcomers to introduce them to the parts of the city they like best. To facilitate this, they’ve made arrangements with many of the business owners: new refugees who visit their shops (and older refugees who escort them) are given discounts!
Just a few examples of many: the Wyvernest offers free desserts to first time visitors with the purchase of a drink, refugees who visit the Silk Wyrms can have one custom (though not exceedingly expensive) outfit made for them for free, and visitors to Shades Darker are offered a half-hour session with one of the prostitutes at half price… or access to a private room, if they seem to have taken a shine to one of their companions on the tour.
Lastly, tour guides will point out that over the course of the next week, the train to Flona Cove will allow new refugees to board for free so that they can experience the seaside for themselves. With the weather finally starting to warm, this is as good a time as any for a visit to the beach, isn’t it?
OF RED AND BLACK. Life in Wyver is typically a sink-or-swim sort of experience — but in light of the valor recently displayed by their predecessors, the natives are now more willing to assist in getting newcomers settled. The entire journey here they have been talking up the virtues of their city… and now is the time to show everything that's on offer.
The well-known businesses in the city are prepared for the influx of newcomers. Some are giving out discounted samples of their products while others are offering a more hands-on experience: in exchange for working a few hours, they will give training in whatever task is being performed.
At the Forged, newcomers can learn the basics of crafting simple weapons (and take one of their successes home), while visitors to spas near the lagoons are trained in the art of massage. Those who wander to Falmi’s Ring can learn the art of pugilism or how to keep (and fix) books if they're more inclined to the gambling that goes on. Newcomers interested in Wyver's dragons can get hands-on experience at the Fields of the Exalted's nursery. While they walk from place to place, a guide may point out a job posting from Highwind Hires, noting that refugees can make a name for themselves outside official channels.
The last stop on the tour is the Undergrowth. The guides speak of the jungle in reverent tones and caution new refugees not to wander too far in. They warn never to explore alone, but also urge refugees to take time to familiarize themselves with it; after all, the jungle is an important part of life in Wyver, and those who are going to be living here should understand it as well as they do.
You've chosen your path, refugee, but that doesn't necessarily make it a permanent one. Watch out for the strange effects of the Storm, which linger still in the two cities and everywhere in between for the next few days before dissipating just as mysteriously as they came, but otherwise enjoy the welcome and make yourself at home — after all, this is home now.
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Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock BBC)
[ The starter kit is, quite frankly, laughable. While Sherlock can appreciate - to a degree - the usefulness of the items and understand that some people need silly things like this to feel comfortable, he couldn't care less. And the instruction booklet is, honestly, insulting.
He's essentially tossed it and the pack aside. Someone else in this makeshift tent city is welcome to grab it. Sherlock doesn't seem interested in the goings on around him. As whole, he's not fussed. He's been in drug dens worse than this, and he's got his device, which is far more interesting than the refugees and their welcome committee. He's using it to catch up on the network and try to find out what sort of people are here. ]
[ii. WE GOT COWS]
[ The sudden storm of rain has Sherlock feeling pleased that he's ended up here with his coat and scarf. While a moment ago he'd been contemplating shedding some layers (the heat from the sun had come out of nowhere), the winds and the downpour as just as sudden. His mouth turns down. Someone had mentioned that the travel from station to city wasn't easy, but, really. This seems a bit much.
Sherlock pops his collar, warding off as much of the weather as he can. His curls are thoroughly dripping within minutes, of course, plastered uncomfortably to his head. He manages to grab his travelling companion just as the hail starts to fall. ]
Better to wait it out.
[ He sounds annoyed, but at least he gets them both under the minimal shelter they've found along the way. The odd cluster of hail and rain sneaks through, but it's better than getting pelted by it. ]
[iii. FORGETTING IS SO LONG AGO (CW: death and dead bodies)]
[ The familiar setting comes out of nowhere. Sherlock doesn't have to think about remembering this - it was so recent, it's still fresh in his mind, even without being slapped in the face by it. The brisk air of London, the sound of the traffic dimmed because it's beneath him. The skyline as seen from the rooftop of Bart's.
Up until now, Sherlock has taken the experience with a grain of salt. He's charged forward, refusing to let himself be thrown off or overwhelmed. This brings him pause. A feeling of panic starts to slowly flood in as Sherlock spins on his heel. His eyes fall on the lifeless body of Jim Moriarty before his steps take him to what he's led to believe is the edge of the roof. He's done it once but -
This doesn't make sense. As real as it is, as real as it feels, the logical part of Sherlock is screaming at him that this is impossible. Especially because when he looks over, there's someone here that certainly wasn't here the first time. ]
[iv. WILDCARD - OLYMPIA]
Open to a variety of adventures set in Olympia, where Sherlock will be settling. Feel free to start your own thread about it, or you can hit me up at
we got cows!
What's the saying... "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes"? I hope it's true.
[With how quickly things have been changing, it seems that it might be.]
...we may be able to find some kindling for a fire that hasn't been soaked yet, if you're cold. Would you like for me to look?
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I'm fine. This won't last long.
[ He's pretty sure. Besides, the hail is brutal, and not worth any scavenging. ]
iii.
But then he sees the man, or the man sees him. They see each other. The body catches his attention next. He drops his hand to his side, reaching for his Tokarev pistol instinctively, normally holstered at the side of his guard blacks, only it's not there. Hasn't been seen he fucked it over. Perhaps that's for the best. ]
Mate — [ he cuts himself off, mustering more firmness in his tone. ] — you oughta take a step my way.
[ Is this real? He doesn't recall clamboring up to the top of this building. ]
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I think I know what I ought and ought not to do.
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Okay, what are you thinking?
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[ Think think think. This is clearly not right, because how could someone Sherlock's never met be present at such a pivotal moment? No, he has to think about what's not right here, and how to get out of it. ]
You.
[ He says it as if he's only just realized that Eggsy is there. ]
Has this happened before?
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[ and that's all he can connect with these recurring visions ]
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II
So they're a little relieved at the suggestion of cover, watching the rain and hail with wide-eyed interest and curiosity. Not that t didn't rain or storm or hail back home, but there's something different about it here, in a place with so much more greenery than they're used to.
They adjust their long gloves and smiles lightly] It could always be worse. At least it shouldn't last too long? The other strange weather phases only lasted a few minutes.
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[ A rough estimate, based on the other weather patterns. Rain he's fine with. Rain is one of the things you learn to live with in London, the hail is aggressive and unnecessary. ]
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Do these hurt you when they hit?
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[ Yes, it hurts, but Sherlock's good at pushing through pain. His tolerance is likely higher than the average person's. ]
It would leave some rather nasty bruising.
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[Except then they turn a puzzled, sheepish sort of smile on him]
What's a 'bruise'?
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III
No. Correction: this probably isn't real, Rosalind thinks, though staring down at the ground makes her stomach pitch in an awfully real way. But this isn't real, because a moment before she'd been cursing the rain and mud, not climbing her way to the top of a roof. And why would she be on top of a roof, why would she be on the edge (well, actually, she can think of a few reasons why, but--)
No. This isn't real.
Rosalind turns as her companion does. There's a dead body there, but that doesn't mean much. More interesting is the man alive, and she watches as he steps forward.]
If you're going to kill yourself . . .
[Her voice is educated, soft but no less firm for it. This is a voice people listen to, by god, or at least a voice that will go on and on until someone listens, which is nearly the same thing.]
. . . you might want to try a different method. This is a bit messy for everyone involved.
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Kill myself, don't be stupid, I'm not going to kill myself.
[ That was never the plan. Of course, the chance of it happening had been there - minimal, but there. No, this is about saving people. Which -
Reaching into his pocket, Sherlock feels the weight of his phone. Too early, but John won't be far from returning. Assuming this is going to happen exactly the way it had. He goes to the edge of the roof to look down. ]
No, no, there's something else going on here. But what.
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[It's a touch waspish, but Rosalind doesn't seem all that bothered. She takes a seat on the roof's edge, with all the careless grace of someone who knows that they can survive a fall like that.]
Why were you here, if not to kill yourself? Let's start there. It's likely this is a simulation, but let's act as if it isn't.
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[ He waves a hand carelessly towards the dead man who'd once been his villain.
He's certainly not about to give it all away. Sherlock's never been a sharer, and this is a particularly dim spot for him. ]
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Had being the key word there, hm?
So. Why were you on the edge?
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ii.
Not someone innocent, at least.
He grabs his arm suddenly, pulling her under a small gathering of rocks, hiding them away from a measure of the rain and the hail. Without the constant downpour, the wind could easily take hold of her, chilling her skin deeply.]
You would think they would have cloaks or something to keep us dry.
[Something was better than nothing.]
How long do you think until it passes?
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[ He's clearly not best pleased, either. He watches the hail hit the ground and bounce, listening as it makes impact with the rocks. They're lucky. Anyone out right now is going to come away with bruises, at the least.
For all his talents, he's no meteorologist. The weather has so far been unpredictable, so. That makes it moderately predictable, in it's way. ]
Soon enough. There wasn't a cloud in the sky a moment ago.
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[Not only the starter packs, but everything. The storm, the loss of their world, everyone she loved in stasis, it was confusing and overwhelming, making her feel almost breathless. Or maybe that was from the feeling of electricity around her, the surge of the maelstrom outside.
The rain drips slowly through the cracks, landing listlessly against her shoulder.]
That's a bit strange, isn't it? Storms don't appear like that.
[Not natural ones, at least.]
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[ It's a fact that clearly annoys him. He's accepted it, because there's no room for anything else, but that's about where it ends. He just hums at her second comment, and flances over from the corner of his eyes.
Ugh. Hmm.
It's with a degree of reluctance that Sherlock shrugs out of his coat and holds it out. He won't go so far as to drape it over her shoulders. The gesture should be enough on its own. ]
Here. Until the wind dies out.
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campfire's glow
Sherlock might catch the rather odd sight of a small young woman who's no older than twenty and barely over five feet tall hefting the fresh carcass of a beast substantially bigger than her as though it's nothing. One might conclude that it's much larger than it looks, except the weight of the beast can be clearly heard when she sets it down in front of the people who are cooking with a resounding thud.
She washes her hands and takes a seat nearby where Sherlock is, pulling out her device to check the network.]
II
This is odd, it doesn't usually hail like this. Yes I feel that trying to wait it out may be for the best.
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[ It's said with a bit of a clipped tone. Sherlock adjusts his scarf against the wind. ]