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 watches him as he sits, her curiosity shifting from his face to the small stick balanced between his lips. His adoption of her time-based vocabulary seems to have him in her good graces for now, though, and she smiles,]
It’s a pleasure to meet you Rich. I am Princess Allura from planet Altea. [A pause and her smile skews sardonic,] Although I’m afraid my title means little when I am the only one left.
[Even before the storm, she was only one of less than a quarter dozen Alteans left in the universe. It’s a tough neighborhood out there. She offers the plate of lint-cubes in Rich’s direction,] Please— [Help yourself, help Allura get these stinky little cubes out from under her nose.]
no subject
Another princess. Thing. All right. (In all fairness Clair was a knight and not a princess at all, but it was hard not to swap the two around at times. She looked so exactly like a fairy tale illustration and her mannerisms were so hoighty toighty.) And she's conceded to being the final one already, which puts a mighty frown on his face.]
Oh, don't say that. Take a solid comb through the pods upstairs sometime, you might be able to find someone you know. Even ones you wouldn't expect. Time is... [His mouth twists. His hand waggles, signifies matters of quantam proportions he has neither the words nor understanding to express.] It works pretty funny where the Storm is concerned. You might be surprised.
[He does take another slice of cheese, pulling the smoke out for now. He prefers to take his drags after a meal but a little snack isn't too bad.] It doesn't taste like it smells you know. Live a little, your highness. Try it out.
no subject
He snags another cheese, and her attention shifts to the food, and still-steaming mug of drink in her other hand.] I don't know, human food is... [Often superb, if not from questionable sources. The delicious milkshakes still haunt her.
Just then, her stomach makes a loud gurgle. Her ears heat up,] It has been some time since I've eaten. [And she's not one to back down from new experiences.
Decision made, she sets the plate in her lap, gingerly lifting the smelly rectangle from the plate. There's only a moment of hesitation before she pops the whole thing in her mouth, eyes closed.]
[...]
Oh! [It's creamy! And a little bit sweet. And doesn't taste anything like lint or feet or laundry!]
NO YOU CAN'T BOOMERANG ME I'LL KILL YOU
Human food is what? Unexpectedly delicious? [He hums, pairing his next slice with a cracker.] You shouldn't knock it until you try it, who knows what kind of delights you might miss out on.
And it isn't made from laundry, by the way. I was pulling your leg.
ok goes really slow now
I once tried another human treat. [A little forlornly, Like a long lost friend. She might be having a religious experience here.] It was delightful, but then I learned how it was created and... [She shudders, leaving the rest of that sentence to the imagination.
With a laugh,] It is a relief to know that these aren't made from lint. I was starting to worry about all human foods.
don't tag until 2019
[Richie fixes her a cracker-salami-cheese combo, and presents it as a royal offering upon the palm of his hand. He puts on a rather posh and stuffy sort of voice, like those foppish manservants to King in Shakespearean plays.]
For you, madam, freshly sliced and stacked from the hands of the native Earthlings, an offering most humble for your resplendent arrival to the soggy banks of El Nysa.
[And now regularly once more:]
So I take it you've met humans before? Or you're talking about something you had up on the ship.
I've had slow moving CR before but that takes the cake
From before. It is a long story, but I have been fighting alongside five humans from Earth for some time now. [It was more culture shock for them than her, coming from a society that was barely interstellar to a vast universe full of societies that have been at war longer than human civilization has been alive.]
One of them has been… awake for some time now. [A pause because it’s still hard to fathom that she’d been in stasis this whole time. ”Some time” because Keith hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with information regarding his time on El Nysa,] His name is Keith. [In case they’ve met.]
no subject
She claims the mantle of fighter, even if she's petite and slim in the arms, delicate in the face. Not unlike Clair, he thinks. But the story is one hundred percent Star Trek, you bet. She's even got Spock's pointy ears.
Richie pulls another drag. Thinking.]
Can't say as I've met this Keith. It's good you've got a buddy, though. [He blows the smoke out to the side, respectful of where the wind's blowing so it doesn't come back for her face. He's frowning as he puzzles it out.] But, hmm. You've been doing the intergalactic bit for a while now, have you? If your human friends are from "Earth" and you're from, ah, Ultea was it?
no subject
She watches as the smoke bellows out of his mouth, mixing and disappearing with the breeze. She'd visited some more tribal societies with similar habits. Religious pipes, or those for recreation. She makes a note to ask about it later.]
Altea, [Corrects him politely as she nods,] My species has been space-faring for longer than I've been alive. This... [Her smile turns a little crooked, sardonic,] This will be the first time I have spent so long planet-side.
[Sure she's visited other members of the Voltron coalition for extended periods of time, or spent days on missions, but her life and her home, after the destruction of Altea, was aboard her castle-ship.]
no subject
So if you've traveled a lot around this here galaxy...have you ever seen the Storm before?
[He wasn't sure what to make of it. Was he ignorant of it because he and his edition of Earth were still living in blindness, deaf to the thrumming life of outer space? Seems mighty suspect that not even NASA could spot the apocalypse swirling in. Did it gobble up the whole line of planets on the way? Pluto, then Neptune, Uranus, and stopping to chomp on Jupiter for a bit just to get that jawbreaker bite sized. Why did no one see it coming?
And how much weight did this alternate universe shit carry? Were they all in one universe, one reality? Did the galaxies hold their idiosyncrasies and commonalities in adjacent pockets? Or was it all separated by fence lines he could never fathom? Was there an infinite universe for each and every kooky tale and curious kid that got scooped up by the Orbiters?
She might not have much in the way of answers, but she's a better bet than most.]
no subject
Never. [She's seen all manner of cosmic and trans-reality events; and even the Galra, who had the power to wipe out entire planets, but none of it was anything close to the might and scale of the Storm.]
Even my ship's systems didn't catch anything until it was too late. There was nothing any of us could do.