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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Huh.. the only thing.. [ Duo reaches out to touch with a cautious hand, as if unsure whether the corn would jump back and bite him or what. Considering everything that had happened lately it isn't too far off, but it doesn't make it any better that he now lives with this renewed caution.
If he wasn't so fascinated with it there'd be a renewed sense of bitterness about it, but right now his thoughts are far away from those thoughts. ]
Any reason in particular it's the only thing that anyone could figure out? Too much iron in the dirt? [ He doesn't know anything about farming, but planet composition isn't too hard to know. ]
It was something for the time being, right? Better than subsisting.
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It has the nutrients to grow things, but the amounts are small. [ In comparison to the iron. ] It's dry, and there's a lot of dust.
[ Two things that can strangle crops where they stand. Corn was just adaptive and hardy, making anything else seem delicate in comparison. Not to say that Mikazuki didn't try — farming is just about the only thing he has any book smarts about. ]
We ended up supplementing this place with our salaries.
[ A glance to the compound in the distance. Those had been poor in the beginning, too. ]
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I mean yeah it's Mars... [ Duo says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, even if it might not be to some. If he's honest he's always been curious about Mars but never able to travel there due to the war and just.. well. Being Duo Maxwell and being generally unable to hold still in one place for too long. He's got the bug as the war comes to an end - always wanting to be out and about, never wanting to sit still too long lest someone find him and that becomes an entirely different issue.
Hanging around the Sweepers and Howard didn't hlp either. ]
Salaries? [ Hm.. ] Not tryin'a be nosey or anything just.. kinda curious because farming doesn't generally give a salary..
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[ As if in implication of it, there's an unmistakable sound in the distance. The boom and crack of light artillery echoing over the vast desert landscape beyond this small, rare patch of green in a sea of rust and red. What Duo's getting at is the exact opposite — the farm (and the family who owned it) needed outside income to flourish. ]
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Well I kinda had the thought... [ There's a little laugh there, as if he knows he's probably asking a lot of him to explain about a world that's now long gone. In some ways these little visions have been kind of nice - glimpses in to a place he's fervently missed from time to time, been upset he hadn't gotten to enjoy more in peace time -
But in others it is incredibly cruel. Almost a tease of things he'd never thought he'd have a chance or an option to miss.
Duo's head snaps in the direction of fire, mouth falling in to that little instinctive frown of concentration as he zeroes in on where it's coming from. ]
What's going on with that?
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[ Because in any world, destroying is more lucrative than creating. There's a sort of shimmer to the farmland, the place that Mikazuki recognizes as early in its inception — when the fields were still small. The compound that suddenly comes into view hasn't yet been styled Tekkadan.
Instead, it's that cold, arid wasteland that swoops out below a hill where that building stands. There are fences and armed guards, men with batons patrolling the work of kids burying mines, and in the distance, practice skirmishes in mobile workers, the most skilled of them standing out in white, blue, and pink. ]
The CGS.
[ It's been years and years since he's thought of that name. ]
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What? War games? [ From what he can see that's kind of what it looks like but they're all -
They're all so incredibly young that even for a boy like Duo Maxwell, raised on nothing more than what he brought himself up on, finds himself a little bit shocked. Baffled, maybe. Burying mines was almost akin to what he'd done.. child soldiers and the lot. It doesn't stop a slightly sick feeling from settling in his stomach. ]
What are you guys even.. training for?
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[ It wasn't respectable or pretty or even particularly lucrative, but for kids with nothing, it was a better alternative than braving Chryse's streets. A thirteen-year-old could put his seven-year-old sister into an orphanage with this much, and have hope that he'd one day afford schooling for her.
Mikazuki's arms are loose at his sides but still electric with the vividness of it all. ]
Though, when it came down it, we were just shields, or toys for them to take their frustrations out on.
[ Them being their employers, who look better fed and better paid. ]
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Guarding what? [ People? Mine fields? He's not exactly sure, but by that serious look on his face, the corners of his mouth eeking in to a frown as Duo watches what's going on, he's getting that this isn't totally an up and up situation. Which he's used to - God, a little too used to - but it's not ideal. ]
Sounds a little too familiar.. [ Duo grumbles, frowning deeply at the idea of it. ]
Did you guys show 'em, at least once?
[ Well, better to be hopeful, right? ]
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[ Their clients were mostly rich people with fingers stuck into one too many shady pockets — what better way to protect their hides than to put kids who needed the cash in between them and their problems. Problems usually seeing reparation or blood. Still, Mikazuki looks on at the initial form of that compound, the tarmacs and red-streaked exterior rising into the Martian horizon.
Then his attention drifts farther out, to those deserts. ]
More than once. There's a lot of bodies buried out there. Though, I guess you could say it's the same for us.
[ He's buried both friends and enemies. ]
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From who? Military or something? [ Hell, there could even be bandits out here for all Duo knew. He takes another wide look at the scenery around him, all the facets of the red planet that he's never been on the surface for long enough to actually take in in all his travels in space.
He can't imagine surviving on little out in the deserts of the red planet was all that easy - but it's worth at least asking. To bring a little better understanding of this guy that he just happens to oddly understand a little too well for not knowing his full story.
Duo hums again with a grim understanding, brows drawn in and wrinkling his skin. ]
Can't say I've ever buried anyone.. bodied, sure.. [ A pause, then - ]
But the most you could do on L2 was wait for someone to find a body in an alleyway..
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[ Mikazuki realizes the irony, knowing what Tekkadan became. They only had one measure of success, one path out of this place. Though he's never been the talkative sort in these situations, not looking to immediately point to his past to explain why things went the way they did, or why they are like they are — but there are certain instances where understanding can be given, deserved.
It's hard to look away from something that's right in front of them too, in any case. ]
Dying out here meant you'd be buried, at least. Dying in Chryse wasn't like that.
[ Mikazuki knew that young, and decided he wouldn't die there.
Though he doubts he was buried anyway. ]
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Yeah, see, back home it was so built up there weren't open spaces like this... the ones that were there were public parts and there ain't no one who thought burying someone six feet deep there would be a great plan, even there...
[ Not to mention, kids like him often got ran out of spaces like that. It was just how it was. ]
I think I'd rather be dust in space than buried, anyways. Never liked being grounded so I definitely wouldn't want to be there even in death. Old or young, you know?
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Everyone has someplace they'd prefer to die.
[ For Tekkadan, it wasn't in space, but to be among those not afraid to die in it — well, they were special.
Dying among one another was preferable. ]
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Those details didn't matter so much as not being buried in the dirt he'd pulled himself up off of by sheer force of will. ]
Same goes here, too. [ Casts a quick glance at Mika. ] I will haunt everyone on planet if I end up in the dirt.
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That's why I chose this.
[ Here, in this memory with children too young to be making that decision, and here, on this planet, this dirt they have their feet planted on. It's a convincing display, the light artillery fire, the sounds of their abusers masquerading as employers, the cold, dry Martian air. But Mikazuki isn't taken with illusions. ]
I'd choose it again, and again. However many times.
[ If he's alive, he'll choose fight. ]
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.. but he wouldn't be the same orphan if he didn't. Wouldn't be the God of Death in the same ways and facets that he already was. ]
I dunno. I've had people ask me if I'd change it if I could and .. nah. Wouldn't be the same person now if I didn't wade through all that shit before.
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[ He believed in Orga, and Orga believed in him. Tekkadan believed in both of them, even if all they'd done was lead them down a path that destroyed everything. Maybe Mikazuki regrets, in some part of him that's displaying this image where it all started, but there are reactions in him stronger than remorse. ]
I'd be looking down on everyone who followed us, if I took it back now.
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Thankfully I kinda followed myself.. less people to worry about at that point. I could barely keep myself together at times, so...
[ Duo was a walking disaster nine times out of ten, so perhaps not surprising. ]
Kinda had to be when you're smuggling a gundam around and shit..
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His shoulders shift, nearly imperceptive in the motion's plainness. ]
I don't like to be on my own.
[ There's nothing to defend or hide by not saying so. ]
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Guess I just ended up getting the bug where I prefer to be alone and you got the opposite.. Neither's bad at the end of the day if you balance well.
[ Though, now that they've discussed this at length - ] How d'you think we get outta here, though?
tyin 'em up one by one
Still, it slides back off the moment, and Mikazuki looks around in consideration, a little more rooted in reality for it. ]
Maybe we just walk out.
[ Through the fields, on this red path, and out of this memory. ]
no subject
[ Duo hums in consideration of that thought, looking around him and then to the road. There's no use in him trying to guess his way through these memories or whatever else, honestly, so the braided boy flips his braid over his shoulder and shrugs. ]
Maybe. Wanna lead the way?
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[ If anything, it's just a more scenic route through the jeweled stalks and coppery red dust shifted through the wind. It might not be much, under a tinted Martian sky that doesn't see enough sunlight, but for a while, it's home. ]