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
Prompto hardly has time to register the implication of those worlds before the memory pulls and twists around them, shifting into nothingness and then back into a place that he has never been before. The memory that forms around them is not his, and so it's easy to figure out whose it is, even before he hears the man at the beside speak.
This is Ardyn's memory, and he's here to help this sick man that has darkness running in his veins. It's not a far cry from something the Oracle might have done.
Prompto's blood runs cold, ice cold, as a breath catches in his throat. Ardyn may have prompted this of his own choosing, but Prompto still can't help but feel as a trespasser, stepping into a place and time he was never meant to see, never meant to experience. The man's younger self looks so - well, young, unmarred by the bitterness he carries with him now, and he speaks with a kindness, a gentleness Prompto has never heard pass from his lips before.
He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have anything to say, for once, but it's just as well. His throat is too tight to allow passage to a single word just then.
This is already so much to take in. ]
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Ardyn forces himself to watch with detachment. It’s easier, having chosen to bring him here; the knife that twists in his gut he can ignore with a practiced dismissal. Finally, he speaks.]
My healing, I assume you have no idea how it works. [He won’t even assume that Prompto even knew he was in possession of such a skill — he still is, but it lies dormant and (nearly) dead in him.]
How I used to take the Starscourge from others, into my own body. It was never so much healing, as it was a transfer.
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A transfer.
He can't quite tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him, his gaze only flickering to the present-day Ardyn at his side. He's afraid of what he'll see in the other's eyes, if he looks too closely. ]
You...could take away the Starscourge?
[ It begs the question he doesn't dare to ask.
What changed? Why had Ardyn embraced the very darkness he had once sought to cleanse? ]
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[The sight before them suddenly warps, changes. The environment, the walls, flashes of memory being dredged up from Ardyn’s mind to put each one on display for a half second at best. From one setting to another, from one ailing person to another, the scene changes before the two of them like frames in a film. Speeding up, each flicker reveals a different person, a different day, but one thing remains the same — it is always Ardyn, healing them.]
Hundreds. Thousands. As many who needed it.
[It becomes a rush of color, blazing past them, almost disorienting. How many had he healed? Were they all nestled in his memory somewhere, fragmented, but still alive? How much of an impact this part of his life must’ve been for him.]
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That's what will stick with him, in the coming days and weeks and months, how selfless such an act is. Maybe Ardyn has found a loophole in this web of memories to project his own illusions, to show Prompto a lie to confound his heart, and yet...this isn't what that feels like, because it being true hurts worse. It's so selfless, for Ardyn to let the darkness out of him, to take it from others, to sacrifice his own wellbeing for that of others.
And it continues to beg the question: why? And how had he wound up as he is now? ]
...You must have been a hero.
[ To have done so much, for so many people. How could he be anything but? ]
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I was heralded as a savior. Can you imagine, the hope that is inspired by a man that can cure sickness, that can take into himself the Starscourge? Bearing the burden of his would-be subjects.
[Would-be, only. He never did ascend to the throne, for gods and family decided to see to that.]
But people are fickle. So are the gods. Savior one minute, monster the next; how quickly opinion can change.
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He lets the silence weigh heavily between them a moment before he can stand it no longer, piping up at last with the question he most needs to hear the answer to. ]
...Will you tell me why?
[ Phrased as a request instead of an outright question, thinking of the man who had saved his life not so long ago, and the man in these memories.
He wants to understand. Not excuse, or forgive. But he wants to understand. ]
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[And though he grins, Prompto will hear no humor in it. Something awful shifts in the atmosphere, dark shadows playing across the room — but this is not borne of memory. This is something that is happening here and now.]
Look at me, Prompto. This is why.
[His face, if Prompto looks to see, ekes black. Scarlera turned obsidian, pupil practically glowing gold.]
Because, it is as I told you. My humanity is a dead thing, replaced by this. No one could overlook that. Can you?
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He takes an involuntary step back - he can't help it. And though he flinches, he doesn't look away, much as he might like to. As much as the sight makes the cold hand of fear size up around his heart and bleed him of breath. ]
Wh - wh - you...
[ It's a pathetic response, hardly one at all, and it is an absolute battle to get his jaw cooperating again, to not let his fear control him as it has so often in the past. He won't be that person anymore.
So, steeling himself: ]
It - it doesn't matter what I think. [ His opinion, as ever, amounts to very little, particularly here. ] I can't give you the choice to look past what's inside you. Only you can do that.
[ Is it dodging the question? Maybe. But he really believes that, too. There's still humanity left in Ardyn, and Prompto's more sure of that now than he was before. ]
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Ardyn could take another step forward, closing the distance between them, but he doesn’t. The darkness fades around the edges, and slowly, slowly, he allows his appearance to shift back into its more familiar look. Its human mask.]
Oh, where does all that positivity come from? [The way he says it, it’s obviously not much of a compliment.] Then let me ask you this, instead — what makes you think I care at all about looking past any of it? This state I’m in, it has defined me for ages, Prompto. And the chance of that changing has been thoroughly swept out from under the both of us.
[If Eos is gone, then so is everything else.]
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But it's Prompto who is here, not Noctis, and Prompto who has been here since the beginning with Ardyn, the only two from their world who have been. It's a terrible realization, as it is anytime he realizes he might have something in common with this man, that for all he has been a monster and a villain, that isn't all there is.
His expression shifts again, to something wry, and almost...uncharacteristically weary. ]
Really? You've been in a different universe this long and you don't think things can change for you?
[ As if Eos was the only place that would allow him to do so? ]
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It doesn't work like that.
[That part comes out unbidden, weighted and heavy. Whereas Prompto sounds weary, a strange intonation coming from the young man, Ardyn can match it.]
People do not just come to a strange land and change, Prompto. What defined them in the past isn't so easily shaken off. How can you do it?
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They still keep him up at night, or any time he visits the Station, or reflects on the near-year they have been awake in this world. He isn't over the loss of Eos. Not by a long shot. He hasn't detached himself from it in order to lead a life here, in order to progress. It's quite the opposite, actually.
So he has something of an answer ready for Ardyn once he collects himself enough to give it. He can only say what he believes, and it won't be enough to change this man's mind. How can he, barely accepting of his own humanity, expect to change the mind of one so old, so set in his ways? He can't. But he can say what's in his heart, with the hope that...maybe Ardyn will at least remember it, that it might be a seedling for greater things. It's all he can hope for, really. ]
Y'know what I learned, when you were chasin' me around like a rat in a maze back in Niflheim? When I was at my absolute lowest because I finally knew what I really was?
[ He...learned a lot during that time, but one lesson remains clearer than all the others, at the forefront of his mind, even now, all these months later. ]
That I couldn't choose my past. I can't change where I came from, or who I used to be. But I can choose who I'm going to be now. I had that choice to make when I woke up here, too. And so did you.
[ Whether or not Ardyn wants to believe it, he had a choice. All of them did. ]
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He’s right, of course, in that Ardyn cannot be convinced so easily. But how sure Prompto is, and how this revelation came from a time when he had tried to make the young man’s life as difficult and painful as possible, gives him pause. (If only it were so easy. There’s still something there that Prompto does not quite understand, something that this place cannot give him that Eos could. That damnable Crystal, no longer within reach; Noctis, asleep in his pod, never to become as powerful as he should to put a final end to everything. His existence here will be a continued one, bearing a burden of darkness for even longer than he should. How is that fair? Why did it happen this way?)
A muscle works in his jaw, and Ardyn swallows.]
All I wanted was not a chance to change, or to be better. It is so easy for you to say that for yourself, you who have lived only a passing life, who even now still remains malleable to the experiences that will shape you in the future. You who still has the potential of not being ruined by the past. What I wanted from Eos, and what this place cannot hope to give me, is—
[Just a chance to finally rest. To be free of the weight of a thousand years, to be used up by destiny, and to finally have the scourge evicted from everything that he was in the process.
But those words might as well be glass, the way they stick and tear at his throat at the very idea of uttering them. The core of everything, too vulnerable to be shown, and to give it life in front of Prompto suddenly feels like too much.]
Why do you think I acted as I did, back on Eos? What motivations were at my back the entire time?
[A half-compromise with himself, instead.]
no subject
That's why his answer to Ardyn's next question is given hesitantly, too. He thought he had a complete picture once, but he knows that's no longer true. Ardyn was once a man much like the Oracle, seeking to heal and help rather than harm and destroy. And if Prompto believed that man was still somewhere inside of him, that even a sliver of humanity remained, the he had to believe him seeking more than just simple revenge, too.
His mouth works silently for a moment, before he answers: ]
You told me revenge. Not so sure that's all there is to it anymore, though.
[ He has glimpsed more, and he can't ignore it, not when...they're being so jarringly candid like this. ]
no subject
He wonders if he could end this memory right now. If he could make it all fade away, and they could wake up from whatever horrid daydreaming monstrosity this all is, steeped in the sentiment of the past.
Even so, he speaks again.]
Then what else? If not revenge against gods and family, then what else drives a man who has lived for too long, to incite the wrath of the prophecy?
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A way out. [ He says at last, his gaze falling away, the corners of his eyes pinched and tense. ] The prophecy was the only way for you to...stop.
[ Stop existing, stop being. It's so easy to see it now, what would have been impossible for him to understand all those months ago. And while it's still selfish, a decision Prompto can never look past for what it cost the world - well...
Selfishness is an awfully human emotion, too, isn't it? ]
no subject
Instead, satisfaction at proving how change will not come easily — or at all, in his mind — without the promise that only Eos could fulfill, that final goal of being able to rest so completely stripped from him. Maybe now Prompto will understand, if only slightly better. Why it’s so hard to ground himself in a new home, a new world, when it provides him with… what? Nothing. His wants had been so simple, before, and he cannot even be provided with that much any longer.]
I think that would be a fair assumption to make.
[Slowly, the world begins to melt away again. The most perfect sort of timing, to let it end on this note. The both of them being returned to reality instead of lingering in memory, caught up in dream-like revelations that might seem surreal when all is said and done.]
Does that answer your question for you? The one from before.
[There had been so many, but — You've been in a different universe this long and you don't think things can change for you?]
no subject
As the memory dissolves from around them, leaving them back in the world they now occupy, their home now, the clouds are still thick, a drizzling rain weeping onto the sodden ground. Prompto barely notices it, his gaze still fixed on Ardyn, brow taut, the corners of his eyes almost...sad. It's not the first time he's felt sorry for Ardyn, felt like for all his crimes he had been dealt an unfair path, but it's the first time he's felt it so acutely. Understanding this man is dangerous - he knows it is, and there are still choices Ardyn has made that Prompto will never be able to reconcile. How could he choose to cause so much destruction, so much pain and suffering just so he could at last have his rest? But even so, he understands how Ardyn arrived at that point. It had been a means to an end. Quite literally.
But it doesn't change his point of view. If anything...this has only humanized Ardyn more in his eyes. Has drawn out the man beyond the monster that has been there the whole time.
The silence lingers a moment longer, before he answers Ardyn's question with a question. ]
Do you regret it? Healing all those people, saving all those lives?
[ He honestly has no idea what answer he will get, but...it's important. ]
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He allows silence to linger for a moment, unbroken. The clarity of reality slowly seeps back in, but it makes his answer no simpler. A thousand different words fight to rise to the surface, and it’s only because Ardyn is so practiced in stringing them together does Prompto get a swift response.]
I regret believing that it would’ve made a difference. That it ever makes a difference at all. What a fool mind I had possessed, all those years ago.
[Ardyn’s past criticisms of the young man’s eagerness to help all those around him, unabashedly and enthusiastically, perhaps has more context now.]
no subject
But here it comes anyway, with quiet intensity in his pinched voice. ]
If you really believe that, then why did you save my life?
[ It doesn't add up. After everything he's just witnessed, everything the other has said, it doesn't add up. Not as neatly as Ardyn might want it to. Maybe he was never putting himself at risk by saving Prompto's life, but that's hardly the point. He still did it. He made that choice, and Prompto is only still here because of it. ]
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Because you just happened to be there.
[And yet as soon as that sorry explanation leaves his lips, he knows it’s lacking. A knee-jerk thing at best, and he knows he can do better than that.]
And because you are a relic of Eos, just like myself, and something from home is not to be destroyed so easily. [Translation: it’s an issue of control, of that terrible attachment to home. It’s easy enough to tell himself that, at least, when it is rooted in the truth.]
Would you prefer for me not to, next time?
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A short sigh, and a shake of his head. ]
We're all in this together, whether we like it or not, huh? [ He doesn't quite smile, but the ghost of it is there, etched at the corners of his mouth. ] And if it was Alisaie, instead of me? Or X'rhun?
[ Of course, Prompto already knows Ardyn saved X'rhun's life. He has no such "duty" to fulfill to him, even if they are from similar worlds. ]
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Whatever thought is flitting through your mind right now, discard it. Don’t begin to think that saving anyone is going to be a habit from here on out.
[Deflect! The question!
He smiles then, sharp and facetious. The other will see it for what it is — an unwillingness to be sincere about anything now.]
We’re done here.
[There’s no preamble before he turns to start walking away.]
Thank you for the lovely trip down memory lane, but let’s never do it again, hm?
no subject
He remains tense, rooted to the spot, unwilling to be the one who walks away this time. But Ardyn turns to go, and Prompto isn't about to stop him. He already has enough to think about as it is, and if he did try to stop him, he suspects it would only make things worse, only deteriorate the strange understanding that has passed between them. ]
Y-yeah. I'll take a pass next time.
[ He wouldn't, but they're not being honest anymore, so it doesn't matter. There won't be a next time. ]