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( introlog #5 ) strangerer things
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. ON A BEAM OF LIGHT ![]()
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. CLOSE ENCOUNTERS ![]()
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. DECISIONS, DECISIONS... ![]()
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.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. FINAL OOC NOTES
An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 REP POINTS FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE AND HERE RESPECTIVELY BY APRIL 29th 11:59 PM EST.
We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP. 1 SILVER = 1 US DOLLAR. |
no subject
His self-image is a warped, twisted thing--society saw in him nothing but a hunting dog, a beast to collar and set to work until it died or needed to be put down, and Kagari had no reason not to embrace it; it served as both outlet for his anger and the closest thing to freedom he would've ever known, had it not been for the Storm. Goodness and morality were for people who had a life and a future; he dismissed those things as irrelevant a long time ago.
Kagari's quiet a long time at the question. To the point where it seems maybe he won't respond at all. When he finally does respond, there's a strange quality about it. Lacking those same vicious overtones, the effort to stick the knife in and twist it as deeply as possible. The thing is, as tough as he acts, his heart isn't inured to true compassion. He's been trying to avoid it, trying to ignore how distinctly Valjean's attitude reminded him of Akane, but he's slowly starting to understand that that's what this is. This old man is one of those idiots that stubbornly keeps giving a shit, even when they have no reason to. It's frustrating.]
...The Sybil System is shit. That doesn't mean it doesn't work. I heard in the old days, people used to lock their doors to avoid robberies or getting murdered in their sleep or whatever. Most doors don't even have locks anymore.
[But that's not really what Valjean asked, is it. He turns away from the cell and the image of his younger self, starting to instead pace up and down that section of hall.]
There's a difference between me and actually good people, yeah. But there's plenty of people who aren't latent criminals who are just as garbage as I am. All they need is the right excuse.
[People, in general, are garbage. The ones that aren't, like Akane? Like this man? They're exceptions. And even more miserably, they think they're the rule.]
no subject
I think that locking one's door is but a small price to pay if it means that these children are given a fair chance to make their own destiny. Perhaps it is true that the system protects society by preventing robbery, murder, and a dozen other crimes, but so too does it rob society of countless men and women who have the potential to do good. All because they have the smallest potential to do evil...
[Under such a system, he too would have been locked away as a boy, all that he might be predetermined from his genesis. How unfair he had thought it to be enslaved for the minor offense of thieving a mouthful of bread as a man - and how much heavier an injustice it would be to receive punishment for no offense but for the probability of one as a boy! The great roiling sea of hatred that had claimed him in the galleys would thrash a child more violently and drown him more swiftly.
And who would be there to reach out their hand to him as the bishop had done?]
no subject
Nobody has ever really thought about his potential to do good. Or perhaps more accurately, nobody has thought of him as someone capable of doing good in the first place. He was a latent criminal, a dangerous beast, a hunting dog at best.]
Nobody cares about that.
[It's unclear if the agitation in his voice is directed at Valjean or that ambiguous "nobody". Maybe both.]
Keeping us locked away means their lives get to stay safe and comfortable. Why should they give a shit about some random kid, right?
[That manic edge is creeping back into his voice. There's a war that's constantly raging in Shuusei Kagari--one betweeen the misery he suffered and the unfairness that the peace and safety of society was maintained by people like him, and his honest belief in that statement. There's no reason for anyone to care about his suffering.]
Hell, my parents didn't even try to fight it.
[So why should anyone else value a worthless person like him?]
no subject
You are free here, are you not? You have been granted a second chance. Perhaps in the past you have been judged as wicked, but here you have a choice to make: will you allow others to determine who you are, or will you allow yourself to choose?
[Perhaps it is difficult to remember such a thing as the future exists when one is quite literally imprisoned in the shadows of the past.
no subject
It's as if he'd almost forgotten where he really was, with their surroundings bringing him back to that dark and lonely pit of despair from his early childhood. Valjean's words seem to settle him, a little. He remembers how he felt in that first ride down to the planet, the pure exhilaration of realizing he was free, really free -- and his eyes get a little less wild, the glassy unfocused haze to them starting to lift somewhat. He sounds calmer when he finally answers.]
You're almost right. But I'm really not a good person. I'm never going to be. Not like you or Akane-chan.
[That's not meant in a self-effacing way. It's just the honest truth, as he perceives it. He just doesn't care in the same way. He'd die or kill for his friends, without a thought, but it doesn't extend past that. He's too selfish, and he doesn't feel particularly motivated to change that about himself.]
I mean look at you, dude. You keep on being fucking nice to me, even when I'm an asshole back.
[He doesn't deserve Valjean's kindness, and yet the old man keeps offering it, over and over. That's the difference between them, and it's a gap he knows he can never bridge.]
no subject
It is because we are brothers.
[A mystifying answer, perhaps, to one who has known only scorn, to one who has grown hard of heart in defense. He remembers how powerfully shaken he himself had been when the bishop called him brother, having been so long treated like dirt that he had forgotten how it felt to be treated as an equal.]
What reason have I to withhold kindness, especially from one who has been kind to me in the past?
[He does not, at least for the moment, comment on Kagari's claims that he is not a good person. He has no wish to pry the boy open and uproot everything, only to nudge some seeds into the soil of his thoughts.]
no subject
Back in Japan, that certainly wasn't true even for non-latent criminals. All it took was one video of a person being beaten to death in public, and the presence of the helmets that could allow a person to bypass the scanners, in order for an entire city to erupt into riots. It had been satisfying, honestly -- to watch the very people who'd dismissed him as nothing but a beast to be caged descend into animalistic savagery themselves.
Once again, Valjean makes himself an exception. Someone who truly believes all people are meant to be good to each other.]
Tch, don't give me that. You went outta your way to help me the first time we ever met.
[To Kagari's perception, any kindness he showed after that was merely evening the scales.]
no subject
It was hardly out of my way.
[Jean Valjean turns his gaze about the chamber once more, lingering over each child he can see through the lattice of metal that separates them from an ordinary life. He knows that there is naught he can do, because what he sees is but a memory, already set in stone, but he might at least remember these poor creatures forgotten by their own parents.]
Well, let us find a way out of here. We have spent long enough here, wouldn't you say?
[And in the present he might help the young man that that child has become. Jean Valjean indicates that Kagari should follow as he continues along the corridor to seek the exit.]
no subject
[That's his honest belief; perhaps he can be forgiven his cynicism, considering the state of his society. But he finds it puzzling and frustrating both that Valjean continues to think it was nothing.
Nonetheless, he follows silently behind Valjean, looking around at the walls that had once trapped him and now do so again, a universe away. There's some officers shuffling about, bringing new children in, or bringing them out to the infirmary or for one of the mandatory therapy sessions. On the way, they pass by an unmarked door with a mounted speaker on it. Kagari pauses in his walk, squinting at it.]
Huh, I don't remember this being here.