natha: (Default)
ɴᴀᴛʜᴀ orbiters ❰ mod collective ❱ ([personal profile] natha) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs2018-07-16 04:47 pm
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❪ 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!

givingback: (58.)

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-17 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)
; A warm welcome pt 1.


[ This isn’t what she expected when ship life was ending (for now??) and life on a planet was beginning. She’s only been from one place her entire life - Boston, so Brianna really has no idea what anything else could ever be, let alone a whole other world. She had no idea there was cold and then there was cold.

In the blinding snow, she’s separated from Claire despite her best efforts to stay close. It’s hard to see, she’s freezing, and she tries to follow the lights until she makes it through the storm. By the time she’s in Nadril her lips are blue, her skin burns, and she’s just looking for someone - her mother, Jamie, anyone - willing to help her warm up. She can’t even speak with the way her teeth are chattering, but Bree walks toward the closest structure, slowly, because she’s exhausted but determined. She's not even aware that anyone privy to her thoughts is only receiving names on a loop. Mom. Jamie. Fergus. Over and over again. And she's only met her adopted brother once, briefly, over the network. But he's still her brother. ]


; A warm welcome pt IV.

[ Once Bree is warm, recovered, and curious enough, she ventures out, trying to figure out the tech because even if (for most people) it’s not very high-tech, she’s from 1968 and a computer is something that seems far out there. Something only used in big labs, maybe NASA, to get men to the moon. Everything she sees is interesting and new. As she passes a bot, the blinding flash makes her pause and squint, but she reaches for the photo that prints and simply stares at it before looking around to see who’s watching and triggering another photo, then another.

In one photo she’s a toddler on a beach, looking back over her shoulder with a grin as she heads toward the water. In another, she’s behind the wheel of a car, and she remembers learning how to drive. Her father taught her. Frank taught her. She sorts through the pictures and realizes that in all of them, even though he can’t be seen, her father was there. He taught her to swim. She looks at a photo of herself stacking wood: he taught her how to wield an ax. How to fish, how to document historical objects. Bree’s in a new place with a new father, and of course, every memory is of Frank Randall.

As she sits, near the bots but not in the way of others, she wipes at a tear or two that falls, feeling more conflicted and confused than she did before. It isn't fair, to try and figure out who she is with family surrounding her, only to be reminded of all she's ever known. ]


; Recreation pt. II A

[ She’s 20, and in Scotland, she could drink. Legality is ambiguous anyway, but for today, she’s claiming her Scottish side to grant her the benefit of alcohol. Before she even hears about the contest, she’s had four shots of something very cinnamon-y that dangerously doesn’t taste like alcohol. But it’s enough to make her smile and reach out to the nearest person who looks friendly. ]

Hey! We should make a thing, a...a drink together! Look, look, look, we can do….this blue stuff [ blue Curaçao ] and this Irish cream and then…[ She looks around at everything, then grabs banana liquor. ] This! [ Pouring it all together in a shaker, she shakes her heart out before pouring it in two shot glasses, handing one over. ]

We could win this thing. Me and you.


;wildcard.

[ ooc: Find Bree rooming with Claire, exploring, or anything else. Feel free to hit me up on plurk at [plurk.com profile] babybokchoy if you’d like to plot more! ]
Edited 2018-07-17 15:41 (UTC)
panzersoldat: (13)

A warm welcome pt 1.

[personal profile] panzersoldat 2018-07-17 05:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He's not that far behind her. And just as exhausted. He's likely carried a few people when they were unable to push themselves one more step. And even now, Reinhardt is about to do as he's always done. Help.

From behind her, a very large shadow will loom and then without further ado, his equally massive coat will rest upon her shoulders. He's so large that she'll likely swim in it. But it's extra warm from his body heat. ]


Here. Until we can get inside. You look like you need it more than I.
givingback: (16.)

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-17 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She's taken by surprise but she's also too cold to do anything about it. So, when the coat rests on her she actually breathes a sigh of relief and closes her eyes for a second before falling back enough that she can see this very large man. ]

Thank you. If you need it back sooner than you think, it's okay.

[ Bree really doesn't want to give it back over again but she was raised with manners. ]

Are things always like this when we leave the ship?

[ So extreme, she means. ]
panzersoldat: (28)

[personal profile] panzersoldat 2018-07-18 01:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He shakes his head. ] Nein, nein. I won't be needing it. It's not that bad. If anything, this just reminds me of winter in the Alps. [ He just has to keep telling himself that. Being cold is just a part of winter and he's generally a very warm person.

He sighs at her question and shakes his head.]
Ja. I'm afraid it has been. It's been progressively worse every time. While the natives here are much friendlier, which is good. In times before, our ships where shot down and we were barred from entering the cities.

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ofhousetarly: credit: <user name="recadreuse"> (15)

A warm welcome pt IV

[personal profile] ofhousetarly 2018-07-17 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Photographs did not exist where Sam was from. Drawings, paintings and rich tapestries were used to illustrate the stories of people from history and those in the present. Sam wasn't a master artist but he sometimes sketched things that he saw to document them. It came as no surprise that he was confounded by the concept of photographs at first and how they captured a moment in time...to be fair, Sam was confounded by a lot of things in this world.

One of the strange looking insect things catches him by surprise, making him stumble a little as it takes a picture. Then another. With a scowl, Sam grabs the pictures and stuffs them into his satchel before moving to get far, far away from the bloody things. On his way he comes across a young woman sitting nearby, with what looked like photographs in her hands. A cursory glance at her face tells him that she doesn’t seem happy and that she was new. To Sam at least.]


Excuse me? [ He begins politely (and at a comfortable distance) ] My lady, are you all right?
givingback: (32.)

/chinhands

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-17 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Bree quickly wipes away any hint of tears still lingering and clears her throat. She's about to defiantly say she's fine, but as she looks up and catches sight of him being nice, and kind, she just doesn't have it in her and looks back down at the photos. ]

This thing somehow gave me pictures of my life. I don't know how, I just know every moment is with my father. He died a little while ago.

[ And now she's far from home, away from all the things that remind her of him, with a different father she barely knows. ]

I guess I'm not that okay. If I'm in the way I can move.

[ He called her 'my lady' and that was unusual for her, but what about all of this isn't unusual? ]
ofhousetarly: (23)

[personal profile] ofhousetarly 2018-07-18 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The kindness is something that he learned from his mother. Sam retained that trait, despite his father's determination to rid him of it. He was proud to be kind and show compassion towards others - it was essentially a rebellion against his overbearing and sometimes abusive father. ]

One of those things also took pictures of myself but I've yet to look at them. [ He presses on quickly. ] I am very sorry for your loss. If it means anything coming from a stranger.

[ If she asks to be left alone, Sam will respect it. ]

No. No, you're not in the way at all. You don't have to move, all right? [ A smile. ] My name is Sam by the way. Might I know yours in return?

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nineteenfortyfive: (SCATTERED)

ROOMIES

[personal profile] nineteenfortyfive 2018-07-17 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[Brianna very well isn't going to room with Fergus or Jamie, so the boys are left to sort themselves out while Claire and Bree settle in. Claire's no stranger to tight quarters after all those months on the Artemis, but this is both tight and advanced. Oh, well. At least it means they won't have any shortage of entertainment as they both figure things out.]

Beats a cot in the mud. [Ah, the war days. Claire never shares too many detailed stories from that time, neither did Frank, but she did make mention of the sleeping conditions more than once as Bree grew up.] Or any other accommodations we've had here in the past, actually.

[She approaches a mirror to see how the cold has turned her cheeks and nose red, even in the warmth of their room, and nearly jumps out of her skin when a helpful voice chimes: Have you ever thought of covering up those greys?]
givingback: (60.)

mom don't embarrass me

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-17 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Brianna's about to say something about having to nearly freeze to death just for this, but smartly, she decides not to. She's more curious than anything at the comment but before she can, some voice is making a dig at Claire, and Bree's mouth drops open. ]

...Did something in here just try to suggest you dye your hair?

[ Before the confirmation can even come out, she starts laughing, trying to hide it behind her hands. ]
nineteenfortyfive: (PSYCHIC)

[personal profile] nineteenfortyfive 2018-07-18 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, don't you start. [Said to Bree, even though she's already started with that laughter. A good thing Claire's mostly unconcerned with the state of her hair. It's no longer carefully permed and flattened. Most days, it's free to be a messy, curly nest that she occasionally ties back.]

And you. Whatever you are, that's quite rude, isn't it? Suggesting a woman dye her hair.

[A brush would help, too.]

For God's sake...

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almaredemptoris: (Default)

warm welcome IV

[personal profile] almaredemptoris 2018-07-18 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
[The recreation touted by Nadril, much like that touted by Paris, holds little appeal to Jean Valjean. Drinking, gambling, and sport are not what he seeks as he traverses the central hub of the city; rather he is drawn by curiosity to see how life unfolds here and to learn the lay of the land.

On the outskirts, which are little less busy than the interior for it is through here that all visitors must pass, he spies the solitary figure sat upon the ledge beside the walkway. Moreover, her visage inspires recognition: here is the daughter of Madame Fraser. And so Jean Valjean removes himself from the trickle of pedestrians to approach. His expression is one of compassion and concern.]


Madame Randall, what is the matter?

[“Madame” and not “mademoiselle”, for indeed he believes she must be married to have come into possession of a surname different from her mother’s.]
givingback: (56.)

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-18 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ In all honesty, Bree doesn't know the difference between 'madame' and 'mademoiselle' so it truly goes over her head that he thinks she's married. But she does swallow and take a breath, letting it out as she wipes at her eyes quickly. ]

This...thing is somehow spitting out pictures of my past. They're all memories with my father. Things that were good, things that I took for granted before he died.

[ There's one, at the back of the stack she pulls forward and places on top that actually has Frank in it, holding a tiny Bree; too tiny to actually remember the moment. ]

I don't understand why it's doing this to me.

[ And yet, it's obvious she continued to have pictures taken, part curious, part wanting to see Frank again. ]
Edited 2018-07-18 14:33 (UTC)
almaredemptoris: (Default)

[personal profile] almaredemptoris 2018-07-18 09:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[It is important to note that Jean Valjean, despite having been acquainted with Claire for some time, has not yet met Jamie, and thus when he looks upon the photograph of the infant Brianna, he is none the wiser that the man cradling her is not Claire’s present husband. He is silent a moment, gazing upon the image of father and daughter, before speaking.]

Your father is here, is he not? As terrible as it is to lose one’s home, here second chances are granted.

[Even the dead may walk again, a feat of the Natha that troubles him still. Yet despite the questions of faith this raises, he cannot condemn a daughter’s wish to reconnect with her father.]

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welp

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/prays for claire

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triplerose: (Default)

wildcard aka meet the nysa son that WAS A CHEAP REPLACEMENT according to claire('s mun)

[personal profile] triplerose 2018-07-18 05:34 am (UTC)(link)
[ Now that he's been indoors enough to moderately make up for that awful journey, Loras is venturing out a little more. He still dislikes everything about this. He misses the sun and the foliage of Wyver, because he misses the sun and everything from home. But, he supposes, everyone's in this with him, and they're all suffering through it.

He does his best to do it with some sort of grace, but even at his age, Loras still has a knack for petulance when the time comes.

As he's walking, he sees, from behind, a young woman which he mistakes for Sansa Stark. That actually brings a sort of smile to his face, and he quickens his step to catch up with her.
]

Lady Sansa - [ And then he realizes his mistake once he's close, and the embarrassment is real. He plays it off quite cooly, ducking his head, smile turned apologetic. ] My mistake. Forgive me for disturbing you.
givingback: (11.)

oh boy HERE WE GO

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-18 02:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Bree's heard the name Sansa from Claire, so when she turns and is decidedly not who he thinks she is, all that she is, is curious. ]

Sansa, she has red hair like mine?

[ She must have, it's the only way he could have mistaken her for this as of yet mysterious Westeros person. ]

I'm Brianna. [ She pauses, wondering if everyone from Westeros knows her mother, so she gives it a shot. ] Claire Fraser's daughter.
triplerose: (Default)

[personal profile] triplerose 2018-07-20 02:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ He's a bit taken aback, only because he hadn't really expected this young woman to know of Sansa. Mostly, he'd anticipated being ignored or politely told no and then she'd walk away. ]

Well - Similar, I suppose. [ He's never really taken the time to notice. Why would he? ] Though people having twins around here isn't very peculiar.

[ He's not sure if that makes it better or worse. ]

Loras Tyrell. It's lovely to meet you. Claire is wonderful, you're very lucky.

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america: (freedom is the only way)

warm welcome: pt i.

[personal profile] america 2018-07-18 05:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ The trek is long and it isn't an easy one either, even for a man with supersoldier DNA coursing through his veins. The warm clothing helps, and the rations he'd been given are still in somewhat healthy demand by the time he makes it through the worst of the storm. There's still snow everywhere, and visibility is low (at this point, Steve opts to keep his helmet tucked away given that it's doing nothing for him in this haze) but he's been pretty determined to get to the city of Nadril so he can find his people.

He's behind Bree, her red hair a stark contrast against the blinding white around them, noting the slow pace of her tread, the exhaustion in each step. He shares the sentiment, honestly. He moves a little faster, with a little more vigor, in order to catch up to her. He's been doing this on and off throughout the journey - checking on people, making sure they're all right, sometimes offering a literal hand to get through a few more paces forward.

He calls out to her, past the whistling winds. The bold star-spangled shield at his back is still easily noticeable, even through this godawful blowing snow. ]


Hey, you doing okay?
givingback: (34.)

/gently collects the mcu

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-18 02:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She isn't not at all, and while her pride would normally make her nod and say she's fine, she's too cold and too exhausted to muster up the lie. Besides, her legs are both numb and wobbling at the same time; now that he's close, the lie wouldn't hold water at all.

Looking up at him, she sees the shield even through the snow whipping around them, assumes he's some sort of military who can help her, and shakes her head, mustering up the will to push past her shivering to speak. ]


I got separated from my...from my mother.

[ Her words come in between clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering together. ]
america: (when we come for you now)

[personal profile] america 2018-07-19 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ He keeps a hand out, just in case she needs a little steadying, and nods. A lot of people have been separated from their group today, a lot of it because of the wind and the snow. But with everyone headed in the same direction, green lights to guide them, Steve has no doubt this young woman will find her mother again.

At the moment he's a little more worried about whether she'll have enough energy to get to the city, but as it is: ]


Don't worry, we'll find her. What's your name?

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tailorable: (e50)

recreation!

[personal profile] tailorable 2018-07-18 01:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[ They only end up at the bar together by chance, when Eggsy returns for another pint. He manages a casual, You alright there?, before Bree starts chatting about the competition. No time to order his boring drink, when someone quickly hands him a bit of paper with their entry number on it.

As he watches her haphazard bartending, his brows shoot upward. He knows a little mixology, thanks to his mentor, but most of his experience comes from, well, binge drinking on nights out. And all signs point to this drink tasting rank. 'Course he can't say that, not when this girl seems dead pleased with herself.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he downs the shot in one go. Unfortunately, even his super spy training can't stop him from pulling a face. ]


Could use a solid base. [ gently, as if it's only a minor criticism. ] Like gin or vodka — [ he shrugs, trying too hard to be nonchalant. ] — or whatever you prefer.

[ y'know, whatever she thinks is best!! wheezes ]
givingback: (9.)

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-18 02:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Bree is 20 and should not be trusted to know anything about alcohol. His assessment probably isn't wrong at all, and she tilts her head to the side, 'hmmm'ing out loud. ]

I've never had either of those. Only whiskey. What's whiskey a good base for?

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torchwoodteaboy: (thoughtful worried)

a warm welcome iv;

[personal profile] torchwoodteaboy 2018-07-19 11:46 am (UTC)(link)
[Ianto has just been flashed and dazed with his own set of confusing photographs -- their travels in the Beacons, a walk across Raold Dahl Plass in front of the water tower, his tourist office, and then the Torchwood Hub itself in all its glory. He had turned, intent on chasing after the little robot and demanding answers from it but the thing had blinded him and disappeared by the time he'd regained his bearings and there he is left standing in the cold with a handful of memories of his own.

It's not his handful of photographs that gives him pause in the end, however, but the girl (you say girl Ianto but you're only 24 yourself) just a few feet away, who seems to have had her own encounter with the bots and been left the worse the wear for it. He hesitates once he catches sight of her, uncertain -- Ianto isn't exactly the smoothest of men, but if there's anything he can do.]


Ehm. [A good start.] I'm sorry, I couldn't help... Are you alright?
givingback: (32.)

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-19 03:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Bree quickly wipes at her eyes and sniffles, looking up at the voice and hesitating, but nodding. ]

I'm...overwhelmed, I guess. Robots that take pictures of your past aren't really a thing where I'm from?

[ In between mourning Frank, she's been trying to wrap her mind around how this would even work. ]

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baldesion: (hello there)

wildcard-ish

[personal profile] baldesion 2018-07-20 02:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[Krile doesn't know the girl sitting nearby. They're both all wrapped up in warm blankets, the strain of the long journey visible on their faces. But Krile, for the moment, has had more than her fill of both hot cider and concerned fussing. There's not much to be done about the latter, but when another cup of the former is presented to her? She can hop up, keeping the blanket about her shoulders with one hand, and offer it to the still-shivering stranger a few feet away.]

Here. [Her smile is quite genuine despite the backdrop of pallor and dark eyes.] If you've not had any yet, it's quite good.

[And she feels less out of sorts with some purpose to her warming up.]
givingback: (8.)

[personal profile] givingback 2018-07-20 03:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Bree hasn't yet been reunited with Claire, too tired and too cold to really keep going. So, when she's given the cup, she shivers even as her hands leave the warmth of her blanket, still eager to drink as much as she can. ]

Thank you. I've had four cups of it and I'm not warm enough yet. How are you not still freezing?

[ She can't imagine doing anything close to interacting with other people right now outside of the huddled mass she's lumped herself into. ]

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