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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no subject
She's quiet as she listens to what Isabela says. Of course she only wanted to marry for love, so it seems so obvious, but...
...clearly, it's not what Isabela herself did.] Um, if you didn't love him, why did you marry him?
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And the way You asks about her time with Luis cuts her deep, and she smiles sadly as she turn to look out the window instead. She'd loved this view once, when material displays of affection and living a fancier life was enough to make her content. Now all she feels is bitterness about it all.]
It's a little complicated, but I never wanted to.
[She sighs, intimate familiarity with the place lingering in her mind even ages later.]
Where I came from it was possible to buy a wife for yourself with the right amount of coin or something to trade. It wasn't on my terms though, especially not for such a cheap offer. But he'd wanted me and she let him have me for such a sad, pathetic price.
[She being her mother...awful woman that she became in the end.]
no subject
She just listens to the older woman talk. Her expression turns sad.] So... you married him because you didn't have a choice, huh? And someone just-- just sold you?
...geez. [It's such an underreaction, mainly because she can't even really think of a proper reaction to that. Such a hard concept to even understand.] That really sucks. I'm sorry.
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Not just someone. [She hesitates then, because her anger toward her mother is often something she keeps to herself. She feels it just a little now being where they are, but it's dulled over the years.] My mother did, after he'd convinced her he had to have my hand in marriage. I wouldn't say she sold me really as much as she washed her hands of me, miserable woman that she was.
[But then You's apologizing and her expression softens in turn to a small smile. She hated to see the condition the girl was in as it was, the last thing she wanted to do was upset her with things better left in the past.]
You don't have to apologize sweet thing, it was a long time ago. And besides, with his death I got his ship to start toward becoming the captain I am today. It wasn't all bad in the end.
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So she shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, reaching up with her non-bandaged hand to scratch at her hair.] She sounds like a pretty awful mom.
So when he died, he left you his ship?
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[Which to her it never would be, because she wanted her freedom and her mother had given all that up to belong somewhere. She'd never truly understand the point of such a sacrifice.]
Ah yes, The Siren's Call. I wish we were there instead of here, because she was a beauty. [A wistful sigh.] But he didn't leave me anything, he didn't even have plans to leave behind to me a single cent. But hey, what's mine is yours is how it goes in a marriage isn't it? I just figured it would be better off in my hands than anyone else's.
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It's horrifying. And just another reminder that people come from backgrounds so much harder than her own.] I guess that's true. Uh, he probably... wasn't going to miss it. [Being dead.
Boy, that sounds terrible to say.] What sorta things was he using it for, though? He wasn't a-- a pirate, right?
no subject
Come now, no need to look so lost sweet thing. The past is the past, no need to look so sad over things I've put behind me. [...Mostly, considering the bitterness she holds.] You take what you can from it and move on, and I became a fine captain with a good crew after I got out of here.
[But it's almost funny how she mentions the potential of piracy, because she's almost got it right if not the wrong person.]
He was just a wealthy merchant, he wouldn't have lasted a day living the life of a pirate. [A pause as she considers, then figures might as well while they're here.] I did just fine in that position myself for years though.
no subject
But even then, she can't help but move away, just a little, at the sight of a hand coming for her head. It's reflexive, and she hates it.
She doesn't pull that far away, and Isabela still tousles her hair, but it's probably notable that she flinched.] Yeah, that's right... you said that you were the captain of a pirate ship, right?
--why'd you go with piracy and not, I dunno, just like. Being a merchant like he was?
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That kind of life is hardly one that would have worked for me. I'd been following along with what people wanted for me; first my mother and her swindling for the early part of my life, and then the false sort of freedom I had here under that man's finger. [She doesn't address her husband by name, he hardly deserved that kind of respect anymore.] For me being a pirate is...actually being free. It's hard work, but the freedom to go wherever I want, to choose my crew and be the only one in my life calling the shots...there's little less like it. It wouldn't have been the same being bound by laws and a structured way of having to do things.
[Her expression softens then, trying to be comforting as best as she can.]
We aren't all the terrifying cutthroat people out there on the sea storytellers like to make us out to be. I hardly fit the image myself as it is, and I certainly don't plan on getting an eyepatch anytime soon. [A pause.] Does it bother you, knowing what I am?
no subject
She understands it, at least.
But it's odd. Initially, when Isabela had told her she was the captain of a pirate ship, it hadn't bothered You at all. It had seemed so distant and romantic, almost. But now that she's been through what she has, now that she's known fear that she'd never known before...
...it bothers her a little more now.] I don't think you're a bad person or anything.
But... being a pirate... you probably hurt people who weren't bad people, either.
I don't know how to feel about that.
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[The biggest thing she'd wanted out of setting sail was her freedom, control over her own life without the influence of others. And for over ten years she had that, but it definitely wasn't without its mistakes. Isabela thinks of the haunting faces of the people she'd almost delivered to be slaves by proxy, the first time as they all had to jump off ship to avoid being caught and how they'd been lost to the waves, the second time where she'd managed to get them to shore and they'd thanked her for their freedom.
There were people in the Armada as bad as You fears, but she knows for certain she was never one of them.]
My focus was my crew and my ship and what I could do with that, and sometimes that involved...less than honorable things. But I never put a blade to someone's throat without reason, never took a life unless I had to. I couldn't have if I wanted to be respected by my crew, and they stayed loyal to me until the bitter end.
[It's a half truth, but You hardly needs to know the details of that part of her life when just a glimpse like this one has her so upset.]
no subject
She likes Isabela a great deal. She's cool, and confident, and mature, and she's living the life that You has dreamed of, and she's always been fun to talk to in a daring, sometimes scandalous way. She wants to keep liking her; she wants to trust her.
But on the other hand, the memory of her trauma is fresh. The thought of being at someone's mercy, the abject terror of being held at gun point, the fear of actual death. And she knows that this charming woman has made people feel like that before, or at least strongly assumes it.
She's quiet for a while.
Then she nods.] ...okay. I believe you.
[And she does. Or at least, she's trying.]