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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!

priorly: (➣ fluor)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-07-27 07:22 am (UTC)(link)
[Well why not tell him that and maybe he'll be offended enough to snap out of this. Or never tell him and he won't be forced to cut Jim out of his life forever, either way.]

It's um. Um, I'm. [Surprisingly hard to pin down.] I'm Prior.

[A perfectly good WASP adjective as a name.]

I'm tired.

[One of those two things may be his name.]
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (0260)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-07-27 07:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ And now he's priorly a potato. ]

Nice to meet you, Tired Prior, [ he says. ] I wish the circumstances were less shitty.

[ Jim sizes him up, considers a few things. ] On a scale of 'about to lose consciousness' to 'might be able to walk in a few minutes', how tired are you?
priorly: (pic#11746032)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-07-27 08:20 am (UTC)(link)
[Well that's some improvement?

As for sizing him up, he's built like a baby bird these days, although wrapped in enough layers that it's hard to tell quite how fragile he'd look without them. But the talk of hospitals might be a clue that he's not built for hard terrain.]


...The former?

[A little helplessly. He's warming up at least, but oh, he's so tired - his eyes are more closed than open, lashes blinking themselves apart through sheer force of will. Though at least his mind's finally wandering back down some of the strange paths it set out on.]

Toto, I don't think we're in Prospect Park anymore, are we? But if I can - if I can just lay down here a while?
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (0990)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-07-27 08:29 am (UTC)(link)
Laying down here isn't gonna work. [ It's okay if he's about to pass out, Jim can deal with that. Probably. ] We've got to keep moving pretty soon. If you don't think you're up for that, I can carry you, but it's not going to be the most comfortable or romantic thing.

[ Not Prospect Park, no. ]

Don't give into the poppies, Scarecrow, c'mon. At least for another minute.

[ Though if he conks out, he's just gettin hauled up and away. ]
priorly: (➣ lumen)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-07-27 09:01 am (UTC)(link)
[The burst of laughter from him is 1. probably surprising and 2. delighted.]

Oh, someone with culture. Someone from home. There's no place like

[And end scene. Carrying him may not be any more romantic, unconscious, but at least comfort should be less of an issue.]
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (1017)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-07-27 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Over three hundred years into the future and Judy Garland persists; of course it's one of the few old films Jim's seen and remembered. Who wouldn't dream of flying away from Iowa, finding somewhere fantastic and wonderful? (Who wouldn't want to have a home to return to?)

Yeesh. Potato's having a rough day. Welp, into a fireman's carry he goes, shock blanket tied around him to conserve heat. Fortunately they're not too far away, so Jim's not completely dead by the time he gets him to the city's welcoming crowd. Just mostly dead.

Prior may or may not semi-consciously experience being handed over, and Jim hanging around for a bit with a medic to make sure he's stable, even conked out as he is. I've got to check in with some other people, but I'll be back, his conked out self is informed. ]
Edited (fucking maths) 2018-07-27 21:13 (UTC)
priorly: (pic#11687787)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-07-27 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[Prior has no such semi-conscious memories, but genuine consciousness kicks in again not long after Jim leaves him. Medical care in the snowy city is both a world ahead of what Olympia is used to, and fully prepared for the extremities of living in an arctic terrain. Prior finds himself waking with metal cuffs locked around his arms and legs not for restraint, but to keep him locked inside a bubble of warm air, gradually raising his body temperature at a rate that won't liquify his cell walls.

There's a line in his arm, replaced by real sustenance as soon as he properly wakes. It isn't long before he's curled into one of the armchairs rather than flat out on the bed, nursing a nostalgic glass of warm milk and cookies. He's swaddled in wool blankets rather than foil ones now: a luxury potato.

Your friend brought you in, he's been told, and has spent most of the time since wondering exactly who he probably scared half to death.]
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (0059)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-07-27 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's a while before Jim's able to swing back around, golden retriever in human form busy making sure everyone is accounted for, employing his Captain Kirk voice to gamely bully a few friends into naps. As for himself-- he'll sleep when he's dead, or something. ]

Knock knock, [ is verbalized outside the open door, and a blonde, only somewhat freezer-burned head pokes into view. ] Hey, you're awake. Nicely done.
priorly: (➣ marvels)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-07-28 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
[Prior at first takes this as someone with medical concern (miraculously revived or not, his shitty eyesight remains true), offering a quick smile and small fluttering bow, vamping-]

Why thank you. It's an act I perform eight times a week.

[And then his eyes narrow a little, as Jim gets closer and fuzzy eyesight meets fuzzy memory. A friend? Ah.]

Although, I had the strangest dream. And you were there...
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (1020)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-07-28 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
Dorothy, now? [ Jim steps inside, finding somewhere nearby to plop down, apparently intending to chat at least for a few minutes. ]

I just wanted to check in and apologize for elbowing you in the chest.

[ That carry position, as noted, is somewhat uncomfortable. Jim probably slipped on ice at least once. ]
priorly: (➣ warmth)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-07-28 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, Dorothy always.

[The high camp's faded back to something softer and sweeter, but there's no denying that. As Jim sits, Prior rearranges himself so that they're facing each other, curling his hands in to press the warm drink to his chest.]

And I don't recall that part of our introduction, but I'd say you made up for it. [He smiles apologetically.] I shouldn't have made it here. Thank you. If I could remember your name I'd sing its praises.
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (0099)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-07-28 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
It's Jim, but really, I don't need any praises. You did the hard part by pulling through.

[ He was worried. Prior was in bad shape, apparently stricken with some preexisting condition beyond the scope of Jim's understanding on top of everything else. He's kind of peeved at the Natha for just booting everyone out like that. ]

I think your name is Prior? That or Tired.

[ halp ]
priorly: (pic#11746319)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-07-28 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
I seem to keep doing that. I must be more tenacious than I intend.

[It's not his first unseasonal weather collapse, nor likely to be his last, and in relative terms this recovery has been miraculous. He was in hospital for weeks over Christmas, back home and for a moment out in the snow he'd seen that void opening up again, unsure how to cope with going through the fight to only-partly recover all over again.

Well, praise be for the high-tech polar people of this place. A few hours to be almost back on his unsteady feet feels like a Christmas Miracle.

He laughs at the possible name options.]


Some days its both but generally it's Prior Walter. I don't know how but they've already got it on my chart.

[Hooked up on the wall behind them, see? Someone probably went through his clothes when they got him out of them and into soft, standard-issue pjs.]

I can't understand how I haven't run into you before...
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (0420)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-07-28 04:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ah, dark humor. He's one of Those. Jim can roll with that, forcibly positive as he is at most times; it's about iron-willed stubbornness for him, versus blind optimism. ]

It's nice to meet you again, Prior. [ About the chart, Jim has no idea either. He's had to introduce himself to everyone new he meets, so he just assumes someone else in the man's acquaintance swung by in his unconscious hours. ]

I do look a whole lot like someone who was here for a while. Steve Trevor? We talked some, but I didn't know him very well.
priorly: (➣ curl)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-07-29 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
[Dark humor's how people survive dark times, and Prior has seen too many of those not to have polished up that particular shield. Dark humor, a steel-toe-capped will, and hope, furious and stubborn, trapped inside his chest like a caged bird. When you happen to be dying, too much positivity just looks like delusion.]

Oh so there were two chances to have noticed your face. I must have been wildly distracted to miss that.

[He was, really. Or, had no need to look. It's funny how a person's world can narrow down to a small set of people, and then they're gone and you're stranded in a place you no longer recognize - back to finding familiar places all over again.

He drops the teasing after a moment, nodding slightly.]


I do know the name, though. Close with a dowdy housefrau named Diana? She was a friend. I hear we lost them both, lately.
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (0460)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-07-29 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
[ What's wrong with my face, his eyebrows seem to say, but instead of remarking on that - ] I don't use the network much, and I'm usually in Wyver. I think most refugees ended up in Olympia.

[ His only video adventure on the network was split with a teenage mech pilot, haranguing people with relevant skills to check-in on Thesa not long before Ysverai's horrid appearance. ]

I sort of knew Diana. [ Vague. Their conversation, though accidental, had been strangely charged. Knowing weird shit about time, maybe. ] I heard they're in stasis, yeah.
priorly: (➣ magnificat)

[personal profile] priorly 2018-08-04 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh, nothing's wrong with it. The pretty ones are harder to forget, that's all.]

Wyver's for the intrepid, and those not concerned with the effect of humidity on their shampoo and set. What made you pick it? [It was never much of an option for Prior: lack of decent sideway maintenance matters when your balance is already off. Besides which, the heat was exhausting and an angel destroyed the room he'd been staying in. All of which added up to a return to the relative civilization Olympia had to offer.

He doesn't share this. Instead his mouth pinches involuntarily at the confirmation.]


And it seems all the best people are going that way, lately.
1701: ( commission / dnt ) (Default)

[personal profile] 1701 2018-08-05 04:21 am (UTC)(link)