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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b!
Rosalind? [ Sorry, he's not doing the Madam Lutece thing in the heat of the moment. Unless you want to call him Captain Kirk forever, lady. ] What the hell?
[ But then he thinks, she's so much younger here, will she even be able to hear him? He looks around, trying to spot a door out of the memory, or a more age-appropriate figure. ]
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If I get caught, it's going to be a very long time before we see each other! Robert says, and her attention snaps back, focusing on her beloved once more. Urgency is clear in her expression, and she holds out her hand again.]
You will not get caught, I promise! Now come!
[You can't promise me that! His anxiety seems to grow worse, dancing from foot to foot, torn between desperately wanting to come through and possessing a healthy fear of being killed as he tries. But the argument behind him is getting ever louder, and Robert finally seems to see sense. He darts through, one quick movement, leaping and gasping as Rosalind catches him.
Shut the machine down, the bearded man roars, and follows right on Robert's heels, the baby still in his arms. Shut it down, shut it down right now--
Give me back my daughter! the alcoholic bellows, but it's too late: Rosalind has turned, following that order breathlessly, and with a whine the machine shuts down. The portal closes, expanding one last time before collapsing-- and as it does, the infant turns, reaching for her father. Her mouth drops open, her arm stretching out . . . and her pinky, small and slight, gets caught just as the portal closes.
There's a breathless moment of silence before the screaming begins. Blood gushes out, and Rosalind shouts as she comes forward, grabbing a first aid kit.]
She's all right.
[Rosalind-- Jim's Rosalind, older and less expressive, her body held tightly-- murmurs it from behind him.]
She lost the finger, but that was the least that could have happened to her.
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Context is probably
kingkey. (A bad Discovery joke, ignore me.) Plenty of the things Jim has lived through look pretty bad without the bookends on either side.Still: ]
Was she being stolen, or saved?
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[The baby continues crying, though now it's more out of shock than pain, as her finger is bandaged tightly. The younger Rosalind falters and falls back, slumping against Robert, then turns into him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. It's half clinging and half desperate possessiveness, and Rosalind watches it with no small amount of jealousy in her gaze.
. . . Booker had sold her willingly. He was an alcoholic, a gambler . . . and he was deeply in debt, so much so that I imagine he would have been killed because of it sooner or later. And along came a man who promised him all the money he could ever need, all in exchange for his child . . .
[She turns a savage gaze towards the bearded man, who bounces the baby, cooing softly down at her to try and calm her down.]
He was told the child would never want for anything. That she'd be safe and happy, cared for by parents who would adore her and dote on her. And I think even now, in this moment, Comstock believed that was what he would do.
[But no. He hadn't. Oh, Elizabeth had never starved or wanted for clothes, she'd never known physical hardship, but there are ways and ways of hurting a person, even when you've deluded yourself that you're doing what's best for them.]
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[ Trafficking, is what that is, one way or the other. (Adoptions don't fall under the same umbrella.) Jim's voice is subdued, his normal forceful energy resting somewhere until needed. Like this, it's easier to notice how observant and watchful he can be. ]
Your brother?
[ He's the sort of person who wouldn't pry, generally, but something about all this has conjured up his own kind of ghosts.
By now the red has faded, leaving him in a gold and black uniform, captain's stripes and all. A clean and tidy version of the one he arrived in, which met an unfortunate end in the toxic swamp his group of refugees crash landed in. ]
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But oh, that second question . . . Rosalind takes a step forward, staring at Robert with rapt attention. He looks so young here, his hair disheveled and his face pale. He's going to hemorrhage in a moment, she knows, but for just this moment, he looks perfect. The younger Rosalind has straightened out, aware she can't appear weak, but Robert still stays close, their shoulders bumping and his fingers dragging lightly, unseen, against her palm.
Her darling. Her Robert, and her heart aches as he leans down, murmuring in her ear.
Hello, Rosie, he'd said, and Rosalind presses her lips tightly together.]
No. Not my brother.
Me.
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And then: an interesting correction. ]
From an alternate universe, [ he says. It's that or a modified clone, he guesses. ]
You must have spent a lot of time together.
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[Her hand jerks, an aborted movement that seems as though she wanted to reach forward and thought better of it.]
He's . . .
[She struggles, faltering. It's so unusual for her, but Robert forces her to break her every rule. She takes half a step forward. They're face to face now, and it's easier than ever to see the similarities between them. The exact same profile, though Rosalind's face is a little more lined than it had been when she was in her early twenties.]
He's everything.
[Just as she says that, softly and reverently, the vision dissipates. They're left out in the woods, trees surrounding them. If nature had any kind of sympathy, it would be raining; as it is, the sun beats down on them both, giving her a good excuse to hiss and glance down.]
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a little egocentric, but then, Jim thinks Jane is the dopest thing ever, so maybe he shouldn't talk. Who knows what would happen if they spent twenty years together.
Coming from a world of endless lens flares, the wayward captain's only reaction is to flinch his eyes shut for a moment. The most annoying thing is how disorienting pulling out of a memory is, and he exhales a long breath before he looks over at Rosalind. ]
.. Weird.
[ This whole thing. Not her, specifically. (Okay maybe her specifically.) Weird is just what he says when he doesn't know what else to say. ]
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[And there's something in her tone that suggests that-- well, yes, of course they do. Most people in her time also believed that sanitation was optional. What most people believe is utter rubbish, in other words, and they're not enlightened enough to see the truth of the matter.
Which is that she and Robert are perfect for each other. That they were meant to be together, and nothing-- not even being universes away-- could tear them apart.
Anyway. She glances back at him, and there's nary a trace of the longing and desperate need that had been present just a few moments before. She looks brisk and unaffected, which is just how she wants to be.]
I trust you know enough not to speak of this. Yes? Not about any of it, but especially not where it concerns Robert.
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