Entry tags:
- *event,
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- yuri!!! on ice: jean-jacques leroy
❪ introlog: #6 ❫ city of secrets
You've spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Now, the time to put all your survival training into practice has arrived: El Nysa needs you, and you're here to help the planet thrive. Are you ready?
THE DESCENT All refugees on the station are called to the hangar, where a large-scale teleporter awaits. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait; everyone will be sent down to the planet together. Before they depart, all refugees will be given a cold weather survival kit with warm clothing, rations, and bedding.
The arrays build into a brilliant wash of light, creating a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa, teleporting the refugees to the planet on an aurora. Once on the planet's surface, refugees receive one last message from Darma. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet we must ask you to brave further peril. Within Nadril are the secrets to how poor Ysverai's revival was hidden from our sight and how this disaster has come to our star. Find the first refugee from beyond this planet, a man named Magda. He will not speak to us, for much has come between us, but to you… If you prove yourselves, he may be willing to answer your questions. We beseech you, for there is a veil over Nadril that hides all within from us. There may yet be more untold dangers waiting to befall this planet. For the good of all who make this world home, we ask you to lend us your aid. There is yet one more favor we would ask of you. In warding off the Storm's encroachment, the physical aspect of ourselves that you call Thesa Station was damaged. We must remain to continue repairs to El Nysa and to deal with Ysverai, but there should be suitable technology within Nadril that could be used for spare parts. If you have the chance to find it and can return it to us, it would hasten— Darma's message crackles with static, another image overlaying hers — her broadcast is cut off and replaced with another. A more sullen and alien voice takes Darma’s place, overlapping on itself in an ominous reveal. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet you’ve only just arrived here. To say I’m not disappointed in your… generation would be to lie, and I am nothing if not an honest creature. But I suppose these have been unusual circumstances. You must ask yourself this — are you only here as Darma's lapdogs? I can assure you, it's not worth being on the Natha's leash. With time, that will be something you'll have to learn for yourself. If you're so determined to come find Nadril, then follow the path north, and you'll find the border. What awaits you is revelation, if you're up to the challenge. A FROZEN LAND ![]()
The refugees land on a literally frozen world, both in temperature and time. Curls of icy wind hold swirls of snow aloft and an uncanny silence is broken only by the crunch of hoarfrost underfoot. Only Darma's protection allows the refugees to move through this frozen world — and movement is very necessary. Bitter cold sneaks through even the thickest clothing and without warning, a snowstorm rises: unnaturally quickly, a wall of white howls directly in the refugee's path. Bizarrely, the way back is perfectly calm; it's obvious that this storm is no product of nature.
Magda's challenge becomes clear: the only way to Nadril lies through this storm. Visibility within the storm is near zero, the whiteout hiding any landmarks from view and making navigation near impossible. The only guidance refugees have is a sporadic path of faint, greenish lights, easily lost in the raging storm. Refugees need all the survival skills they practiced on Thesa Station to survive, for getting lost alone is a death sentence. Luckily, those separated from the group can happen upon guiding lights Magda has planted throughout the tundra. These blue-white sparks cause frostbite if handled recklessly, but they also serve as directional anchors, turning into ghostly flames that lead lost souls back to the path to Nadril. The trek through the storm will be no mean feat and will last for the better part of three days. By the time the refugees reach Nadril's gate, most will find themselves exhausted and running on fumes. As the snowstorm dies away and a gap in the glittering forcefield around the city opens to usher the refugees inside, it's clear that Nadril is a different beast. A WARM(?) WELCOME ![]()
I. Despite the unforgiving journey, entering Nadril is painless. Once inside, characters will be greeted by their predecessors: the original refugees who made this advanced city. They'll immediately be offered medical attention, as well as warm cider and blankets. But it's obvious that the Nadril citizens prefer higher tech to fend off the weather: they also offer wristlets and ear cuffs that that double as mittens and earmuffs by creating warm bubbles of air. The earrings also feature a few quality of life programs, such as timed alarms and thought-to-speech messaging. However, both programs are in beta stages so it's not unusual for a stray thought to accidentally slip through or an alarm to accidentally ring at an inopportune time.
II. Refugees are offered free lodging in a large, crystalline building crafted from ice. Despite the coarse building material, the ice is unmelting and surprisingly well-insulated, and the beds are as warm and cozy. The rooms are, however, small. The sleeping quarters house two people, and are some cross between an igloo and a capsule hotel. Though built for efficiency over comfort, all rooms are also outfitted with the latest Nadril AI, RoboAlfred, or Ralf for short. This helpful program is installed in practically all the furnishings: the closet tells guests to bundle up, the bathroom sink reminds them to brush their teeth, and the mirror offers helpful fashion tips. Ralf's personality matrix still needs polish, though: it may very well insult your clothes and passively-aggressively question your lifestyle choices for the entire stay. III. Though not as advanced as Thesa Station, the colony has technology far beyond the rest of the continent, such as rudimentary AIs and mechanical transportation. Nadril's skyline is a point of pride — refugees can take a (literal) lightrail that gives an aerial view of the colony, which is hewn almost entirely from ice and rock. Despite its tech, Nadril is much more sparsely populated than Olympia and Wyver, and its residents stay near a central hub: a Natha refugee drop ship, Central, which has crashed and long embedded itself into the earth. Central is similar to an older, smaller, grounded model of Thesa Station, in functional order with round-the-clock solar power. Within Central are lounges similar to ones on the Station, though many of the damaged areas have been converted. They include repair stations, different wings dedicated to science, botany, astrology, and mechanics, and a research and history facility, which has a smattering of technology from planets beyond El Nysa — including your own. The staff here don't mind if anything is sampled and studied, but objects cannot be taken from the labs. IV. On the outskirts of the central hub, many will find several curious looking bots with insect-like wings perched about high traffic walkways. Simply passing the bots will cause a dizzying flash before a series of photos print out. Upon closer inspection, people will find that these images reflect stills taken from their home worlds as they remember it. Unfortunately, these photos only last a couple of hours at best. At that time, they will revert back to regular pictures of the refugees. People will be encouraged to share these images of their worlds. The residents of Nadril comprehend the value of remembering one's origins, and will be pleased to see that people still hold memories of old homes close to them. RECREATION IN NADRIL ![]()
I. Small, mechanical creatures scampering through the city are a common sight. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that they come from a shop called Paws About Town. They’re very useful, as companions, gophers, and couriers (though the more mischievous will note that they’re just small enough to keep tabs on people without being noticed).
Premade robotic pets are available on display inside the shop. They come in all shapes, but small sizes; one may be able to find robots that even look like miniature creatures from their homeworld. These are a part of a new, highly customizable line with programmable personalities. Customers have the chance to take pets for a one-day trial run. Those who don’t know how to program may want to enlist more knowledgeable aid, but the pets come with instructional pamphlets for basic personality traits such as obedience, helpfulness, playfulness, and bloodthirst. For returns, the switch to wipe the robot's personality to a blank slate is on the back of its neck, right between a switch to invert all traits, and a switch to have them learn by observing. Try not to press the wrong switch — you might wind up with a pet with a mind of its own! II. A. The Frosty Tap Cantina is a thriving hub of activity, but one of the major draws is the self-service bar: molecular mixology is wildly popular here. Playing with drink compositions can be a game in and of itself, and newcomers to the cantina will find that the bartender — a cheerful woman with lilac skin and three eyes — is always happy to give them a few tips on how to use the wide array of tools within reach of the barstools. All manner of drinks are possible — from glowing, layered cocktails, to clear drinks with colored, spherical bubbles and vividly-colored shots that give off their own smoke. There's a nightly contest in the cantina for the most creative drink created by a team — this may be as good a time as any to partner up with someone and see what can you come up with. Winner gets all their drinks for the night free! And, hey, even if you don't win, you get to drink whatever you make. The well-lubricated patrons of the bar are eager to challenge anyone nearby to a different sort of drinking game… Just how well can you hold your liquor? B. Holo-screens in the cantina are nearly always broadcasting some match or another of a game that looks very much like hockey, albeit played with sticks that light up and a puck that changes shape from time to time. Colonists here merely refer to the game as "the sport," and one of their favored pastimes is betting. However, they don't use currency — they wager dares. Nadril colonists are a tough, weathered lot, and they prefer to speak with actions over silver. Colonists will urge the refugees to take part as well. Common dares range from the ridiculous (lead a sing-a-long, attempt to make someone with a poker face smile) to the suggestive (kiss the person in the cantina you find most attractive, strip off a piece of clothing), to the outright reckless (venture out into the snow for a certain amount of time, and no one will judge if you find some company to keep warm). The colonists are unfazed by even the most insane or tawdry of dares — but you'll certainly be called a killjoy for refusing too often! Why not grab a friend and give it a whirl, or challenge a rival to a dare yourself? THE MISSION ![]()
I. On the outskirts of Nadril is the communications tower of the old refugees. This is where Magda resides, monitoring Nadril's technological protections, the extent of the Natha’s influence, and running his own personal projects for El Nysa’s technological advancement. It is isolated, filled with research labs and relics of the past refugees who have come to El Nysa — a living mausoleum of worlds swallowed up by the Storm whose peoples have refused to forget where they came from.
Crew photos line the walls of the tower: pictures of alien families and friends, the refugees who came to Nadril before you. Each group of photos gradually becomes smaller in number, and the most recent of the pictures are from half a century ago. Magda's picture can be found among the first group of refugees, an unusually small cluster of photos dating back centuries in El Nysa's past. I have been on this planet for nearly two centuries. Life has come, evolved, and collided in an ever expanding culture. But Darma fears interference, and made this place a prison, with she our warden, stifling the growth of the creatures native to this world rather than encouraging them to flourish. She sent you here for answers in her stead because she knows I'll spurn her, and after seeing what that fool Raysc has wrought, I'll give you them — not for Darma's sake, but because I trust after all the Natha have done to you, you'll understand my decision. Mistakes were made, and I won't hide them. You've made it here so there's some mettle to you, and unlike the Orbiters, I'm not interested in hiding the secrets of the dangers we face. I gave Raysc what he needed to keep his actions hidden from Darma's eyes — what he needed to advance the primitive magics the Natha had doomed him to. It was old Natha tech, Darma's very own used against her. Hilarious, isn't it? Raysc learned of Nadril, and like you, braved the snow to find his way here. He proved his worth and his determination, and he spoke of a brighter future, El Nysa coming into its own, its people realizing their true potential, unhindered by the shackles that had been put upon them. I believed him. He had vision — or so I thought. In truth, he was a fool. A madman. He wasted the opportunity I gave him on his petty vengeance. But not everyone on this planet is such an idiot. Surely you lot aren't. The Natha are hiding things from us — about the Storm, about everything. And here in Nadril, we're going to find all those secrets. What's it going to be? Will you help us, or are you going to stay obedient dogs on Darma's leash? Magda isn't too talkative yet; after all, the new flock of refugees may just be here as eyes and ears for the Orbiters. But what he has said leaves you with plenty to talk about, and if you can earn his trust by helping out around Nadril, he doubtless has a great deal more to reveal. II. Central isn't the only Natha ship that made its way to El Nysa — another, crashed just outside Nadril's borders, is little more than a junk heap. It's here that you'll find the spare parts Darma asked you to retrieve for Thesa Station. What remains of the ship's hull serves as a windbreak, and snow has built up against it, turning the piles of old Natha tech inside into something of a snowy morass. Holes in the deck offer would-be scavengers passage to the ship's innards, barely illuminated with flickering lights — the tech is old, but hardy enough to withstand a crash landing, the severe weather, and the passage of centuries. Deep in the wreck are the remains of living quarters, research labs, VR arenas, mecha bays, cafeterias, and a host of other rooms, many of which may seem familiar from Thesa Station, albeit with a decidedly older feel to what remains of the smooth curves and sleek surfaces of the Natha architecture. Most of the ship's systems are damaged and the technology is nonfunctional, but that just means there's plenty of spare parts to be found. The wreck isn't in the best shape, its structural integrity damaged, and the drifting snow threatens to block off exit routes. Be careful while exploring and be sure to bring a partner. As it turns out, Darma isn't the only one interested in the wreck — Magda is also eager to get his hands on Natha technology. In his own way of taking some responsibility for Raysc, he's asking scavengers to bring him parts, muttering about seeing what he can do about Ysverai's curse. Bring him anything that looks useful, and he may have a chance to succeed, though whether he'll be more effective than the Natha Orbiters is up for debate... FINAL OOC NOTES
An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 NADRIL REP POINTS may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD HERE BY AUGUST 5TH, 11:59 PM EST.
As always, feel free to create your own prompts and explore the Nadril location page! There are a variety of activities made available, including fishing and cave exploration! Please direct questions to the questions thread below! Thank you! |
futaba sakura | persona 5
[ The sound of arguing can be heard from one of the rooms.
Mostly because apparently someone forgot to close the door — or was in the process of leaving before something stopped them. The point is, if anyone even gives the slightest bit of effort, they'll hear two voices arguing; or one voice sounding very annoyed, and a quieter voice that seems a little... distressed. Guess which one's which. ]
—let me just see— [ The other voice is a little harder to pick up, unfortunately, so after a pause... ] Look, I know you have a panel right there, lemme see your hardware! [ Someone please help the robot AI thanks. ]
→ PAWS ABOUT TOWN ( limit: 3 )
[ Considering Futaba's quest to see inside Ralf probably ended in a giant failure, she's moved on to smaller and cuter things. Mostly in the form of a robotic mouse, plugged into some kind of portable computer she's managed to grab from somewhere.
She's made herself perfectly at home on the ground ... outside. Squatting and slouched over the laptop as she furiously types — completely lost to the rest of the world. Luckily, she seems to have found a little nook by some walls that keeps her from becoming a tripping hazard, but the sight is probably a little concerning.
... If anyone takes the time to watch, the mouse eventually uses its tail to unplug itself from the computer, and scurry up to Futaba's shoulder. And only then does she straighten out, grinning— ] Hah! I knew it!
[ ... Hopefully that wasn't too loud. ]
→ PHOTOGRAPH(IC MEMORY) ( limit: 2 )
[ And then — she actually becomes a tripping hazard.
Mostly because the flash is unnaturally bright and it'd be stupid of her to take another step forward. ] What the— [ So she stays still, all not-even-5-feet of her, eyes squeezed shut until it looks like the light levels are back to normal. The photographs are already on the ground before she opens her eyes, but that doesn't stop her from picking them up, and—
Freeze in place. ( One is a picture of a disaster of a room, lit in greens and blues, books and monitors and other knick knacks piled on top of each other. Skirting the line of "livable" for anyone reasonable, really, but the lit computer screens imply that someone does stay here. A lot.
The second is the door to a small but cozy cafe situated in a quieter road, presumably on a warm, summer day. Definitely not as personal as the first one, but it makes her pause nonetheless. )
... She grows quiet, seemingly transfixed by both photos. That said, she's also kind of standing in the middle of a busy walkway, so maybe it's best if you tell her to get out of the way. ]
→ WILDCARD (ish)
( i've limited responses as i'll be out of town next week (thanks, surprise work trips), and a manageable tag load is probably important 8( sorry! if all prompts are full, hit me up privately and we can work something out!! thanks for understanding. c: )
look at this photograph, every time i do i makes me... cry?
Instead, Makoto places a hand softly on one of Futaba's shoulder. She looks rattled too, but also making her best effort to be the reliable older person here. ]
Hey. Maybe we should move somewhere a bit quieter, don't you think? I can get you something to drink, too.
[ She doesn't move though; Futaba has to take the first step. ]
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A busy walkway. With a lot of people. ] I— [ Moving around isn't much of an option here; but man, does she want to run. Her head whips back to come face to face with Makoto's ( finally putting a face to the voice and the hand, even if it's all happening Not Fast Enough ), eyes wide. ] Huh?
M-makoto? [ Futaba hasn't opted to move yet, but it really won't be long now. ] Wait, you're— [ ?????? ]
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Still, her smile remains big and bright and confident. ]
Yeah, I'm here. [ She looks around quickly. ] Come on, let's go somewhere we can be by ourselves, okay?
[ And she offers her hand for Futaba to take. ]
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paws about town
Then the mouse starts moving on its own, and Nott jumps when the girl yells out in triumph.
She'll probably regret this, but she approaches the girl with her mechanical rat held in her hands.]
What did you do to make it do that? Mine won't move at all.
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— But maybe that's what makes it easier to talk to them. The fact that they're smaller, the fact that they obviously need help with something that is clearly Futaba's area of expertise. She still pauses, hesitates, gathers up the courage that's needed to actually speak to a stranger, but the process is ... shorter.
Okay, okay. She can do this. ] You gotta program it. [ A goblin doesn't know what programming is, Futaba. ] It won't run if you don't tell it what to do. [ Duh. ]
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Well, I don't want it to run away, so maybe not that.
[Wait, okay, that probably just means something. Nott's dumb but she's not stupid.]
I think there's certain parts of the instructions that are... lost in translation, somewhere. And I can't enchant things.
[This girl sitting on the floor outside is most definitely an enchanter of some sort. That's definitely what's going on here.]
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Paws about Town
In any case, have a very colorful, head-sized bat… thing hanging in the air just above your head, cooing curiously, Futaba. Whatcha got there, Friend? :3]
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[ ... Except it doesn't move any closer, not really, once its actually in view. Squeaking a little and waiting expectantly, almost. Whatever that actually means in bat, anyway. It's almost like a demon, but... not, because it definitely doesn't look like it can talk or actually be of any use but... ]
... Hi. [ It'd still be rude, technically, not to say hello. ] Did you come for him?
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(Also wow dat's rude, Highwind can be plenty useful – he can use physical and magical attacks and even support with a healing spell!)
He tilts his head-body at the question, not really sure what he's supposed to have come for. He's just here because she seems interesting!!! Also maybe because pettings? Please maybe pet him, his fur is very soft? :333]
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LOOK AT THIS GRAAAAPH /chad kroeger freezes, proudly displaying office chart
Nicer in its amenities than either Olympia or Wyver, but now it's gone the other way and aped Blade Runner, 2001, and Star Wars all in one swoop. The location is shit too, can't forget that can we? Even with the wrist bands and the techno-wonders, the trip here has not been forgotten. He still can't feel his toes.
Yet new is new, and there's a lot that can be learned from your predecessors. Richie'd taken to the streets on a curious jaunt, getting lost in the sights and muddling through some unsavory thoughts. Darma and the sullen interceptor left everyone with more questions than answers. Ty-pi-cal.
So what now? Who can be trusted whe—]
Oof! Oh! [He's clipped shoulders with a roadblock. A girl, edging on the underside of sixteen, swallowed up in a parka with big specs and pin-straight red hair. Richie pulls back, raising both hands in apology.] So sorry, didn't see you there.
[Ordinarily he might press onwards, but now he pauses. There's a niggling sense of recognition, something to do with the sheet of hair, the glasses...beats him why.]
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But luckily, it doesn't — it should have, considering how completely distracted she is by the objects in her hand, but apparently she's gotten a tiny bit sturdier since ... since. Enough to at least freeze in place when something nearly knocks her balance up, eyes wide ( and frightened ) as someone practically twice her height seems to raise his hand ( oh god, oh god— )
And apologize. But with the apology comes the chatter, and then the realization that she's definitely not as along as she thought it'd be. She might be braver about crowds, but this is quickly reaching a limit she has yet to break. Or whatever. The point is: ]
Um— [ The pause terrifies her. Something about the way that he's looking is absolutely making her mind blank and her muscles tense. ] I— [ Wait for it, in 3, 2, 1—
Where Futaba bristles visibly before she begins to back away. Sorry Richie, this was all a Lot. ]
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What's wrong? [She's retreating now. His stupefaction doubles.] Hey, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you, honest. T'weren't nutin but these old feet fumbling, the snow's as soft as sod in a potato plot and me toes are crooked as pigeons, they are!
[When in doubt, go for the jokes.]
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welcome!!
[ lifting her brows. ] Technical difficulties?
[ listen, she knows that's a generous assessment... ]
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And — god, does it show. Whatever excellent argument ( read: not at all ) Futaba was using to win over Ralf stops abruptly, as the small frame jumps visibly. With a squeak. And then stays ... absolutely, and completely still, as if that'll make that strange voice to go away.
... ... ... Only to be absolutely crushed when she turns her head and sees that's not the case in the slightest. She jumps a second time, apparently just as startled as the first, and ... continues to stay absolutely still. ] I—
Um. [ God, Futaba, you were supposed to train until you mastered the skill talking to strangers!! This is definitely her fault for not grinding that stat completely. ] Um...
It's ... It's nothing. [ She tried. ]
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☇ robots in distress.
thus: a brunette, casually leaning up against the doorframe, watching with barely repressed amusement as the other girl argues with the mirror. when there's a lull in the conversation, daisy pipes up to add: )
I think they're programmed to be a pain in the ass. ( as are all robots, really. ) But there's always brute force in a pinch.
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And the someone's not anyone she recognizes either, and that's bad. Really bad. Her mind blanking is even worse, but that's the state they're in at the moment. She swallows the lump in her throat, and quickly averts her gaze away from Daisy's.
... ... ... ] I... I guess. [ Real riveting answer, there. An awful come back to a pretty decent joke all around. Her voice seems to be crawling in on itself, before she takes a breath, and— ]
I don't know if I want to ... break him, though. [ ... ] AI's cooler when they're running.
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a warm(?) welcome
He doesn't plan to get settled or make himself at home, but it is worth getting a lay of the land, and he may as well start with the building they'll be living in. It's as he's moving down the hall, lined with other cramped rooms like the one he's been assigned, that he hears an argument taking place.
At first he doesn't think much of it, but one of the voices is definitely robotic, and when he hears mentions of panels and hardware, he finds it hard to ignore whatever's going on.
He nudges the door further open, finding a young girl arguing with, well, an AI. So it looks more like she's talking to a wall, really. ]
I kinda doubt it's just gonna listen to you.
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So, her brain mistakes one for the other. An easy retort passes her lips while she struggles to find an opening to the panels. ] You can think whatever you—
[ Wait.
A pause, then her head whips back. ] So— [ The intake of air blocks the rest of whatever she was going to say, and she suddenly finds herself scrambling away from the panel and... putting her back up against the wall. How could she be so stupid, really, she already knows who's awake and who isn't ( mostly, who isn't ). She let herself get careless and now she's stuck in this situation and...
She steals a glance at the individual at the door. Swallows. Quietly, with all the bravado out of her: ]
... Sorry.
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→ WILDCARD, a frozen land.
Some time midway through the journey, a gaggle of traveling refugees has to deal with something of a minor avalanche. Nothing, y'know, catastrophic enough to devastate. But certainly enough to scatter some of them, which could lead to catastrophe in its own right. Trail lost, companions separated, settling snow and buffeting blizzards still whiteout-thick in the air. The greenish lights of the landmarks that lead the way to the trail still few and far between. In searching for them...one might find hope in a glint of bluegreen light, through the blanket of snow.
Then, pulsing in time with a slightly staticy voice—]
Hey! [...if it manages to carry, over the gusting winds. He tries again.] Someone out there?
[(There'd been something there, on the edges of the Transistor's sensors—but it was there and gone in a flash. Some kind of interference, maybe.)]
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And technically that would be her fault, considering she didn't pay a lot of attention during the simulation. Foolish of her, really, because she of all people should know that training levels are there to help you succeed ( usually by giving you a lot of freebies ), and now she's just jumped straight into the deep end while being extremely ill equipped.
But she needs to persevere. Somehow. One way or another. It's not the most successful thing she's pulled off, but one step in front of the other, don't fall asleep in the snow, and—
That's a voice.
A voice is probably the best thing to have happened to her at this point. She perks up, immediately, fear of strangers completely forgotten because the fear of dying is a real, solid thing at the moment, ] Hello??
Where— where are you?!
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pawkun
to begin with, it was kind of hard not to notice her. she stuck out compared to all the foot traffic around her. after all, most people walking through central seemed to have some sort of destination in mind. a destination that ... incidentally wasn't here on the computer, that is. especially not all hunched over and in the corner?
hence, it's no surprise that vane was a little concerned. he was about to ask her if she's alright, his hand out ready to wave in front of her face to get her attention. however, instead he's met with her sudden exclamation.
he nearly jumps back. ] U-uh... what? [ ... ]
Yes? [ did he get this right? ]
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But then, she's never really had the excuse to go outside up until recently. All of this is recent development for her — from the cold to the outside to the people. A slow, but steady path towards learning how to be around people again. Which means certain things — things like being crouched over with bright orange hair in an otherwise busy area — end up flying right over her head.
And that leaves her here. Face to face with the tallest blond guy she's ever met in her 16 years on earth ( and ... like, a week, wherever this is ), visibly leaning backwards as she takes in just ... how tall he is. And how confused he looks.
God, why are people this tall allowed to exist?? ] — Huh?
... ... Y-yeah? [ Despite what it may seem it took a lot of effort to say that, alright ]
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( wildcard: mission ) love me
I mean, Ann can picture it already: Futaba stumbling upon some fascinating (to her) high tech... thingie and completely forgetting about basic human needs like eating, sleeping, not freezing to death in the blistering cold, etc, and then they would all find her body a week later, half-eaten by some sort of weird alien space-bear or something.
It's better that she comes along, even if she already wants to expire from the cold. At the very least, Futaba's Persona makes it so much easier to find the wreckage, so they don't have to waste precious time wandering around in the snow.
Ann pulls her hat a little further down her head and points to the huge ship mostly-submerged in the snow. ] That's the one, right?
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But mostly because she's inside Necronomicon, which means the cold doesn't bother her ... as much ( does Necronomicon come with its own heating and cooling system? Who the hell knows, tbh ). It's fine enough that she decides to take Ann's offer to go out to get a little research done. 10 minutes passes to a solid hour, one clue leading to another, then—
From the UFO that's been following Ann: ] Yeah, I think so. [ But then, it might not be, and it might be Futaba's excitement just getting the better of her. ] ... ...
Yeah, that's it! Score! [ Futaba 1, snow storm 0 ( Ann 0 ). ] The entrance is around the corner over there. [ Aaaaand... off she goes. ]
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