❪ introlog: #6 ❫ city of secrets

[natha]

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! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[breadmuffs]

...Well, I guess there is only one way to find out.

[He's done little things to try and make most of the Nein happy. To amuse them or help them out. He wants to make sure that they think he's worth keeping around, despite everything that he is. Dirty, socially awkward, and the most likely to go down in a fight first. Controlling. Difficult.

He hasn't tried to do as much for Molly as the others. He barely trusts anyone beside Nott, but he's the wariest of Molly. But Molly is the one who is here now. (He perhaps has an inkling that Molly wants this group to stay together as much as Caleb wants it to. He'd said something about "needing this to work" after the revelation about Lucien.)

So. Caleb uncurls from the bed to go stand in front of the mirror. He holds his hands out to the side slightly, as if inviting the AI to whatever it is going to say.

It turns out Molly is half-right and Nott is...just plain wrong. It does take a solid 30 seconds to get started, during which Caleb starts to turn away. But then? It has opinions. Starting with Do you even know what a shower is? and...continuing on from there.]

[mollymocked]

[Molly peers over the side of the bed to observe and waits... and waits. Maybe Caleb did break it. Maybe-

And then it starts in and Molly breaks out into a fit of boyish giggles.] Don't take it personally, Caleb. We already know it has shit taste. [He points to himself. Honestly, how could anyone say he's not a fashion icon? No respect.

He gets the words out, but then has to faceplant into the mattress to muffle more of his laughter.]

[flask]

[Nott watches Caleb at the mirror expectantly, fully distracted from her little rat. She's about to be smug about it not caring about Caleb's appearance, when... it goes on a tirade. A very rude one.

She glares.]

Tell it off, Caleb! Or do you want me to break it!? I'll break it!!

[She gets up from the bed and marches over to the mirror, fists clenched. Instantly, it's offended by her additional presence.

Oh god, there's two of them. You know, I don't know if "Mummy Chic" will ever be in. Have you considered going to the dentist? Or washing your hair?

Nott lets out a battle cry and slashes at it with her claws. She's making do without her crossbow, okay.

It really just gets the thing a little scratched on the surface. She's no monk. It pauses, taking in the fact that it was just scratched up... and then it gets very offended about that, continuing to insult the both of them with renewed vigor.]

[breadmuffs]

[Thanks, Molly.

But no, actually, Caleb doesn't seem to be that bothered by the AI or his friend descending into a gigglefit. Again, Molly is right: He knows what he looks like. It's deliberate. He can't get mad when people call him a hobo when he specifically cultivates that appearance. It doesn't matter either.

So when Nott gets offended for him and demands that he tell it off or break the mirror, his first reaction is to start to hold up a hand as if to forestall her. He doesn't need her coming to his defense for this, but--]

Nott, it's--

[No, she's already on her feet and in front of the mirror with him. She's very fast.

And then the mirror is laying into her. Caleb doesn't care what he looks like or what people think he looks like. If they avoid him because of it, all the better. (Most of the time.) But he knows that Nott is a different story. She cares.

...So when it starts insulting her, when it attacks them both with renewed vigor after she scratches it, he mutters under his breath and moves his hands and...

Well. Attacks it with Magic Missile. 10 points of damage. The glass cracks pretty impressively. Of course, the AI isn't in the glass so it does...jack shit to shut it up. Oh well.]

[mollymocked]

[And Molly's laughter increases tenfold, no longer muffled as he falls backwards onto the floor in a pile of giggling multicolored tiefling. The magic missile to the mirror really did him in and when he finally pulls himself back up, he's thumbing tears out of the corner of his eye.]

Congratulations, you two. You killed a mirror. I'd say that's seven years of bad luck for you both, I bet it either cancels itself out or gives you seven years of good luck instead. [He breaks off snickering again.] And thank you both for being good sports about this. You're lovely, terrible people. Don't listen to anything a trashy piece of furniture tells you.

[flask]

[The glass is cracked to the nine hells, but the insults keep coming. Nott takes a deep breath through her nose, Molly's comments all but ignored.

Caleb's more worried about it insulting her, but she's more worried about Caleb. Sure, she doesn't exactly need some kind of disembodied voice reminding her of all the things she hates about herself, but she knows full well what she looks like. She's the freakshow here. She's the only one it should be targeting. She's used to this sort of thing.

Normally I'd say a smile is the best accessory, but on you maybe you're better off without!

And it has plenty to say about Caleb, too.]

Well. I think you look very handsome, Caleb.

[She's not moving from the front of the mirror until he does.]

[breadmuffs]

[Caleb's eyes do cut to Molly so that he can look a little exasperated for a moment. He didn't actually mind the laughing before when it was about the mirror's reaction to him. Maybe it's a little different when he's laughing at his efforts to protect Nott.

In any event, he still doesn't really care what the mirror is saying, not about him anyway. He puts his hand briefly on Nott's head by way of ackowledgement of her compliment. It's laughable, but she's trying. Maybe he should tell her she doesn't need to try.

He doesn't, he just retreats from the broken mirror and reclaims his place on the bed. He reopens his book and starts reading it again. Although he does have one more comment.]

The people who designed that thing must be assholes.

[He...assumes it's people. Or maybe it's a spell, but then people still would have to craft that.]

[mollymocked]

They're awful. [Molly gets off the floor enough to perch on the end of the bed, so he's no longer below eye level and laughing at this misfortune. It's not as amusing when there's a significant amount of actual hurt involved, and he did instigate it.

He doesn't feel poorly about it. He just knows when to stop.] Who does that benefit? Do they charge extra for the pleasure of being insulted by an inanimate object?

[flask]

[Nott stares after Caleb after he leaves, sulking a bit about the whole situation, but then promptly walks away from the mirror as well. They will probably have to pay damages, huh... That's fine. She'll take care of that. She started the whole property destruction angle anyway.]

I think they charge less for the size of the room and then more for the running commentary so it balances out, probably. There's barely any floor to fit Molly on.

[Saying this, though, she takes Molly's spot on the floor, used to being below eye level anyway. She curls up her legs close to her chest.]

[breadmuffs]

[....Are they actually charging them anything for the room, though? Caleb's pretty sure they aren't. Whatever, that's not particularly important. Perhaps normally they charge money.

His gaze flickers up for a second when Nott and Molly trade their initial places, and he tucks himself just a little more firmly into the corner of it he's claimed.]

Maybe some people find it funny.

[Weird people! But you know, people are pretty weird. Beauregard likes being beaten up. It takes all kinds.]

[mollymocked]

I've met those types of people. There was a town we went to in the east where a man would tip the women at the bar extra if they demeaned and insulted him. Ornna decided she wanted in on that action, and made fifteen gold just laying into him.

[Like all things with Molly, it's hard to tell if it's a true story, which doesn't matter because it's a funny story.] There's the difference between circus weird and other people weird. We'll gladly get paid to insult you, but we're not gonna pay you to do something most people already gladly do for free.

[flask]

That's probably a sex thing.

[Nott says, confidently, with all the self-assuredness of someone who has far more experience with "sex things".]

This seems like not a sex thing, though. Or if it is, it didn't even really ask first. Although, maybe that's why these rooms are so small...? You know. The insults are to get you in the mood.

[...]

I'm not, though. For the record. This is other people.

[breadmuffs]

(continued)