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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Then again - how bad can it be? He's already lived through it all, right? He made it through it once, so he can do it again. ]
I can take it. Whatever it takes to get the hell out of here.
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[He swears and backs up.] All right then. It's a good thing you're willin', Promptly, 'cause that's about the only way out. [If there was ever any doubt that it might be otherwise, he takes the time to kill that now, and then adds:] You know where you're goin', right? 'Cause I sure don't. Half-World's labs didn't look a thing like this.
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[ He may have only been here once, but Prompto would never forget his way around this place. He's been around it enough in his nightmares, imprinted indelibly on his mind. Swallowing around his tight throat, Prompto starts to move down the dimly lit corridor. ]
...Y'don't think we're gonna have to...fight anything in here, are we?
[ It's just a memory, right? Nothing should be able to touch them. ]
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I hope not. [Words he never thought he'd say.] Maybe they can't even see us. I've been in a few where nobody reacted at all, and it just played out no matter how much you tried to stop it.
[But even knowing that, he still keeps his voice down. This is not an ideal situation to be made out to be a liar in.] Not bein' able to stop it is bad enough.
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[ A fight would only make things worse, and emotionally stretched thin as he is, he can't say how reliable he would be in battle in his current state. Fortunately, the dimly lit corridors are nearly abandoned, and even the occasionally passing magitek trooper doesn't seem to notice them at all.
So, that's something, at least.
Almost imperceptibly, Prompto nods at one of the automaton-like soldiers as they pass, a grim looking sliding onto his features. ]
...That's why they would've made me into.
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[But he knows the answer to that. The answer to all science-related questions is eternally "why not? we can do whatever we want, because we're basically gods."]
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[ That's all he says for the moment, eyes dark and hooded as the MT walks by. Prompto has killed countless numbers of them, both before and after he knew the truth of his origins. They aren't people anymore. There's nothing left of the soul they once had in them.
But that still doesn't make it easy to think about them, his literal brothers, the fate he so narrowly escaped by pure, dumb luck. He's had a hell of time with the survivor's guilt. ]
They're powered by magitek. Their cores run off of corrupted souls. So what's the quickest way to get a whole bunch of souls, just waiting to be corrupted and harvested?
[ Clones. ]
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[There's a flicker of something that catches his eye- another crack in the wall, but this one seems to bleed light. His ears perk up.] Whoa. Hold up a sec. I think I found the thing.
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[ The only bright side to Prompto's visit here was by the end of it, the entire facility shut down and no more soldiers were being produced. He can't say for certain the fate of those who were still in tubes, but...who knows. Maybe they got out.
He likes to think so, anyway. ]
...That it?
[ Prompto leans over Rocket's shoulder, prodding the crack with a finger. ]
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[He digs his claws into it, tearing away at whatever bizarre fabric of reality this memory exists in. Eventually the tear is wide enough to walk through, but when the odd static buzzing of an approaching storm fades the scenery isn't much different from the one they left, beyond being a bit more pristine and clinical.
And the smell is worse. Antiseptic and blood and metal, and Rocket instantly heaves as the sense memory overwhelms him. To the right is a hallway, stretching on to the rest of the facility. To the left is a door that Rocket knows opens up into a large room with labs on either side. He's so shaken by this that he doesn't notice when a group of scientists with alien skin tones and features step around them and walk through the door. On the other side are rows and rows of cages, visible just for a moment before the door shuts again.]
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R-Rocket? Buddy?
[ Prompto quickly drops down to one knee next to him, to peer into his friend's face, to try and make eye contact with him. Where are they? Who are those people going by? And are those...
...Cages? ]
...Oh, no.
[ He can hazard a guess where they are. ]
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It's fine. Don't make anything of it. It's not even real.
[But god the playing on his sense memory is vicious. It takes him a moment to steady himself, before he reaches up and plants a tiny hand on Prompto's arm as he pushes past him, marching straight for the door, leading into that cage room. Somehow he knows that trying to go the opposite way won't work- it's a memory. He'll only end up back where the memory begins.] Screw these a-holes. I got outta this place once, and I'm gonna do it again.
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Right behind you.
[ He's not alone in this. ]
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Rocket's breath hitches immediately, his whole body tensing up.
It's a stark white room- one of many. It's not very large, but from floor to ceiling to the left and right. At the other end is another door. Rocket knows the layout well. This part of the complex is built like boxes laying side by side in an odd geometrical pattern, making it maze-like and difficult to navigate because it was built for aesthetics and not function, back when this place was an asylum.
The largest cages are stacked on the bottom with smaller ones stacked neatly on top. Each one bears an electronic label above it with a subject number, vitals, and an x ray of the skeletal structure with some parts lit up in red and others in blue. There's percentages too, but none of them are marked at 100% completion. Every animal is varied- some are bizarre alien species, while others are from Earth- and the cages are too small. They make no sound when Prompto and Rocket enter, and while that may be because they can't be seen, there's a strong suggestion that they wouldn't make noise even if the person who entered was visible.
Rocket shakes off his tension, sucks in a breath behind gritted teeth and marches towards the door, expecting that he'll just keep his eyes forward and not pay attention to the creatures in the cages. He stops about a foot from the door, clenches his eyes shut, and then raises a hand to point at a cage.]
Fifth cage from the left, three from the bottom. Go ahead. I know you're curious.
[Maybe that's a bold assumption, but whatever. The best thing he can do is take control of it, otherwise Prompto might just find it on accident. And, indeed, where Rocket gestures there's a familiar brown-furred shape, awkwardly trying to curl up and sleep but given the raw wounds on its visible back and the fresh metal sticking out, it's finding a hard time getting comfortable. Every now and then it moves and elicits a whimper of pain.]
Those spine implants were the worst. I didn't sleep for a week after I got those in.
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Then Rocket gives Prompto directions to his own cage. His throat closes up, but invariably he glances in the direction that Rocket indicates. ]
Are you...
[ But he doesn't complete the question. If Rocket wants him to look, invites him to, then he will. This is his memory, after all. He can make the call.
So Prompto shuffles closer to the cage, peering in and taking in the state of the creature inside. He can't look very long, really. A moment later, his gaze flinches away. ]
Sh-shit...the hell were they tryin' to do?
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I'm sure there was an end goal somewhere, but they were still gettin' a feel for what they could do, so they just did whatever.
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[ Or not one Rocket was privy to, at least. It's...awful. At least Prompto had been created for a purpose, even if it was one no person should have to be subjected to. But to be so senselessly tortured like this, to put another living creature through for no reason at all...
It makes his stomach turn, and it's some moments before he can glance at Rocket again. The current Rocket. ]
...How'd you get out?
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[Sucking in another breath, he scales the cages closest to the back door, so he can get a better view. The familiar cold metal and the sudden onslaught of bad memories makes him lock up halfway up but he keeps going, focusing on Prompto's questions.]
They underestimated how frickin' smart I was. They got robots who do a lot of the grunt work around here. I figured out how to get into the system and after that I could come and go as I pleased 'til I had an escape plan.
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So you were able to pull it off?
[ It would seem so, anyway, since Rocket has come along way since he was the creature in this cage. ]
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'Course I did. Got out, stole a ship, ain't been back since.
[It sounds so simple, but it wasn't, and there's a lot that story omits, but what does it matter? The ending is happy even if what it took to get there isn't.
His eyes catch a glint of imperfection that he wouldn't have noticed had he not come up here, located where one set of cages meets the wall beside the door they came in from. His eyes light up and he bounds across the tops of the cages and jumps down.] Found it!
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Instead, he follows Rocket as he bounds along. Found what? The way out? ]
Where? No offense, but I'm ready to make like a tree, here.
[ He's willing to bet Rocket is, too. ]
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Shit. Give me a hand, Prompto.
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You first. I'll follow.
[ Rocket is definitely the one who needs to get out of here the quickest. ]
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And yet she still barks a maniacal laugh at the realization he's back on Nysan soil.]
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We're out! We're out -
[ Without really thinking about it, he reaches out to set a hand on Rocket's shoulders. ]
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