nysalogs | ❪ event ❫ THE DESCENT: PART ONE -- the overflow.

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❪ event ❫ THE DESCENT: PART ONE -- the overflow.

THE PROLOGUE

Your sleep on the night of the 15th is not a restful one, unfortunately. It’s unclear whether you are in a state of half-wakefulness, or dreaming. The voices you hear certainly sound very real.

What is it, Sael?

—Is everyone asleep?!

Every one, yes. Sael, it appears you do not have good news to deliver...?

N-No! I don’t know how it slipped past us, but there’s something powerful coming this way. Something hostile. I can barely keep the core systems online!

... I don't know what to do...

I see... and we cannot protect Thesa and Alria in addition to transferring the Refugees to Olympia. This force, they waited for this moment. They knew I have been Intervening, and that I have become weak from such Interventions—

... We've been had. It cannot be helped. To save the Refugees on the Stations, we must eject the awoken unto El Nysa. My remaining energy shall go into shielding Thesa— left defenseless, every being we have saved on this station will perish... Sael, where is the ideal location for the landing?

Hmm. There aren’t any people within a ten mile radius of The Outlook, and there shouldn’t be any for a few more days. I think that’s the best location right now.

Very well. Instruct Zasere and Roman to begin preparations for an emergency eject. This is the only way we can save everyone. I am counting on you to ward off the enemy on the space front. The rest... is up to our Refugees.

The alarms are blaring. It shouts against your eardrums, calling you to wake again. This time, you are in new pod, strapped down completely and cushioned tightly against the walls. In truth, you had no idea when you’d gone to sleep, but it is reminiscent of when you had been saved from the force of the Storm. A voice greets you when you come to, while the conversation between Darma and Sael is still fresh on your mind. Despite their voices playing like an old tune in your memory, you still know it is something that happened. Something has gone terribly wrong.

You hear Darma speak, her voice loud in your head.

Fellow Refugee, I wake you with regrettable news. A force equal to our own is attempting to engage Thesa, no doubt to steal the souls contained here. My energy is near depleted with this last Intervention, so I cannot send you to the grounds safely as originally intended. However, there is hope yet.This power shall instead shield Thesa and Alria — and believe in me when I swear no one shall be hurt. Your loved ones are safe with us.

—Unfortunately, that is at your expense. Your descent will not be an easy one. This pod that contains you shall pierce through El Nysa's atmosphere and land you on an island west of Olympia, simply called The Outlook. Travel east. Find the West Outpost, then continue east until you find the Olympian North Gate.

There is a method to this madness. You shall be sent in waves. The inhumanly strong shall be first. The parachute will soften the landing, but I am aware of all your capabilities. The first wave will survive the drop, and will work tirelessly to secure the others. Find your bearings, and ensure the safety of the second wave. They are the healers and medics. Catch their pods, ease their landings, make certain that they shall not be harmed, because you will need them for your wounds.

The third wave are your strongmen. They shall help clear the debris and take people to safety, making way for the fourth wave, those can conjure magic to help. Bring everyone to a safe distance. A supply drop will follow soon after; it shall contain tents and tools that will be useful for the long night. The fifth and sixth waves are largely vulnerable humans. With your combined efforts, you shall survive this great misfortune.

Forgive us, Refugee. Leave the Moons to us, my promise to you is still in tact— focus on what you can do for others like you.

Helping at least two (2) Refugees will earn you one (1) Natha REP. Threads must be AC length to qualify, and can be submitted HERE by JULY 31st.

THE DESCENT

FIRST WAVE. The instructions are clear. Those who are a part of the First Wave should be equipped with physical strength and fortitude to survive the drop or the power to regenerate and heal their own wounds. While the pods are already designed to cushion some of the impact, as this is the first group, it will likely to be the most jarring. In all of the waves, some of the pods will malfunction and offer no cushion at all. They will be expected to quickly find their bearings. Their mission isn’t simply just landing, after all. The first wave will be expected to help the next wave, and the wave after that.

Whether through their abilities or brute strength, they will be expected to help soften the landing for those who are falling. They will also be expected to pry open hatches, carry people to safety, and to just... survive.

It’s not always easy being first.

SECOND WAVE. Within the next hour, it’s time for the Second Wave to make their descent. You were selected based upon your aptitude for healing and/or being able to administer first aid. Perhaps you can help the tired and weary. Maybe those who have landed have have strength, but no stamina. Either way, it may be unwise to exhaust all their abilities at once. The night is long, and you may want to conserve their energy for the next waves to come.

At least you’ll have help in getting settled.

THIRD WAVE. Akin to the First Wave, the Third Wave will possess some durability, and some manner of strength, making you a reliable ally. Especially in a time of crisis... Or so we hope. While the landing is tough, and some of you may need first aid. As soon as you’re all healed up, you’ll have no time to dawdle. Your help is required.

“Please help those still trapped in pods. Carry those unconscious to safety. Lift debris, and rescue all you can.” May be a vague message still stuck in the back of your head. Something whispered to you while you were just waking. Well, might as well roll with it. It’s the best shot you have, after all.

FOURTH WAVE. Those in the Fourth Wave, as Darma projects, were selected due to the versatility of their abilities. No one expects one man to do the same as the next. Rather, that’s precisely the point: to be different. To be able to accomplish something unique. While one individual may be blessed with powers that assist in putting out fires, another may have the ability to shield those from oncoming debris. Maybe one even has the ability to channel all of these. Regardless, it’s up to you and your quick wits to see what tasks are open. It’ll take some coordination, especially as there are more people mixing into the fray, but, you can do it, can’t you?

FIFTH WAVE. If you are in the Fifth Wave it is likely that you have a specific power or ability. One that isn’t easily channeled or called upon. Or, perhaps, you were merely placed here for insurance. Whatever the case if, your expertise will presently be put to the test. Maybe you’re quite proficient in survival skills, and you’re already eyeing the supplies that were dropped between the Fourth Wave and now. Goods all ready to be salvaged. Okay, maybe some can’t, but as they say, “it’s the thought that counts.” Besides, the injured from earlier certainly need a space to rest, and camp isn’t going to make itself.

Regardless, maybe you feel more comfortable joining in the efforts to assist those who still require it. Whatever it is, you are sure to find your place and use. Darma obviously held the same faith.

FINAL WAVE. The Final Wave is fortunate in a variety of ways. With Thesa Station a bit more stabilized, Darma utilizes the last bit of her powers in insuring that these last remaining pods are met with the softest landing, right beside the fifth, that is. The fragility of life is nothing she is unfamiliar with, after all. Still, that isn’t to say nothing is expected of you.

Most of the individuals that have dropped earlier will likely be exhausted. An hour stretched between each one, makes several hours for the first couple of waves. They'll need a place to relax.

You will act as the final group of helpers. Settle into whatever role feels best for you. Are you an excellent cook? Great at rationing supplies? Perhaps, you have a secret skill in ______ that might come in handy here? Or, maybe, despite the gentler landing you still managed to get hurt. The sky's the limit, and you got this!

Meanwhile, in the distant kingdom of Olympia, the Empress and her loyal subject discuss matters late into the night...

I’ll have the results of that dragon toxin study ready for you soon, Your Highness. I just need a few helpers to— oh wow, is that a meteor shower?

Oh yes, it appears so. How beautiful.. hehe. Let us thank Thesa for this blessing.

GATHER YOUR BEARINGS

All in all, the descent lasts for nearly seven hours. After the deployment of the last wave of refugees, it’s only natural that you may be feeling pretty worn out.

A. Within the remains of the pods, Refugees will find basic camping supplies such as small tents, sleeping bags, and compasses. Not all of the supplies remain intact, thanks to the impact of the crash. But, sharing resources will ensure there is enough for everyone to rest for the night. Can you really in good conscience leave that stranger next to you without shelter?

B. Although you may be tired after such a life-threatening ordeal, there is still work to be done to ensure your survival. Fortunately, it works out because now there are plenty of empty hands. There are stray debris and metal parts that should be collected and disposed of. There's firewood that needs to be collected, and campfires to upkeep. The nights in the Outlook are particularly chilly, and so it will be imperative to keep warm!

C. Your clothes are tattered or too bloodied to sleep on with comfortably. Fortunately, Darma thought ahead. There will be various types of clothing provided, mostly robes that resemble her own in earthy tones, all to help them camouflage you for your next big adventure.

FINAL OOC NOTE

This INTRO event will be broken up into three parts! Please keep this in mind when plotting your threads/tag load. PART 3 Will be up on JULY 22ND, at 6 PM EST. We will not provide an additional CAPTCHA for this overflow. Players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals in the event this overflow gets close to CAPTCHA. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP.

The NETWORK is currently down, as Sael must concentrate all of his efforts on warding off the invading force. Characters may still message each other's personal IC inboxes.

Submit two (2) AC-eligible threads from this log for one (1) Natha Orbiter REP point here by JULY 31ST.

Recommended Listening: Alex & TOKYO Rose

PART ONE | PART ONE (overflow) | PART TWO | PART THREE

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That was an interesting assessment, considering there were some who would call Demyx just that. A monster.

"I like to think so." He grinned. "Even if my colleagues made fun of me when I summoned a sitar of all things." That particular wave was finished, but that didn't mean there weren't more to come and he knew he was expected to help.

"I'm not sure I can do it that far away, to be honest with you. I've never tried to see how far I could command it."

Terra's initial assessment of people he meets is often... interesting.

"Heh," a good-natured smile tugs the corners of his mouth up. He raises his free hand to the side of his face exposed by his thoroughly-busted helmet and swipes his thumb back along his jaw, wiping off a couple tickling beads of sweat, "It's a pretty unique tool, that's for sure. I bet they stopped teasing when they saw what you could do with it, though."

Tool or... weapon? It'd really only be a weapon if he uses that water to fight. The guy could just be... part of some world's fire-fighting force? Or part of a team of garden waterers or castle cleaners. There has to be a lot of jobs available for water mages.

As he's thinking about the possible occupations the stranger might have had, Terra's eyes drift down to Demyx's boots again and linger there a second.

Very suddenly, his half-visible expression changes. Not even a trace of his smile's left when he looks up and his gaze has gone sharp.

"... How about this: while we've got a moment, we'll head over there and see if you can go the distance with your water? If not, we'll figure out another plan."

The tone of his voice suggests Demyx totally has a choice in this, the hard, direct, unwavering stare, on the other hand...

"Nope! They're all pretty much jerks." Demyx said in a good-natured tone. Terra's thoughts would have been amusing to him, if he knew them, but it was definitely the latter. A weapon.

He's puzzled by the change, honestly, he didn't know why Terra was giving him such an expression all of a sudden and it was eerily familiar.

No, there's no real choice there, he's familiar with the words not matching up with the intent. Demyx nods his agreement and begins to move to the aforementioned location, keeping Terra in his peripheral vision. His instincts were telling him that this just got possibly dangerous. He doesn't falter in his body language or smile, but he does keep Terra in his sights.

Demyx might be keeping an eye on him, but as soon as they're off and walking, Terra's focus drops like a rock to the ground in front of them. Only once does his attention veer off to the side and that's to look away from Demyx, not toward him.

He leads his new acquaintance to the farthest edges of the grassy area, where the plains run into the surrounding forest, and stops there, checking the sky for any sign of more pods on their way down. Can't be long now. He's got to make this quick...

Terra turns back to Demyx... only to hesitate, a flicker of uncertainty softening his features. With some effort, he forces down his surfacing doubts and gestures stiffly to a spot next to a tree behind them.

"Why don't you stand there?"

That wasn't unusual in and of itself, it wasn't like that familiar chill came from someone who actually paid much attention to him. He was fine with letting the quiet settle as they walked away from the radius of the fallen pods.

"Alright." Demyx answered Terra and moved where he indicated to the tree.

"So you want me to try and send water as far as I can?" He asked, just to confirm so he didn't do something foolish.

Terra watches him go then steps over to join him in the shade of the big, wilting tree.

"Yes," he says... right before he grabs Demyx by the collar of his coat and tries to bodily haul him behind said tree.

So much for the water challenge.

"Geeze!" Demyx complained as he was pulled along, stumbling a little bit because he hadn't been ready and had initially resisted.

"You don't have to be so rough." He tried to sound a little hurt, but then again, he had decided that playing as harmless as possible was the best tactic in that case. He didn't think he wanted Terra to know the extent of what he could do.

That information could be dangerous in the wrong hands, and he knew that, as he worked for the wrong hands.

Demyx's complaints fall on deaf ears. Terra curls his fingers tighter into the leather and pins him to the tree.

From this angle, none of the other Refugees should be able to see them.

"Tell me-- Xehanort, who is he to you?"

It's really hard right now to imagine Xehanort working with this guy, but those boots... It can't be a coincidence...

His brow furrowed a little. The name sounded like one he should know, like one of theirs, but it wasn't one that he was familiar with. He wasn't exactly a founding member, he'd never known the man.

"I don't know Xehanort." Demyx answered cautiously, not sure if he was going to be prompted into defending himself or not. He was playing it by ear, on edge.

"The 'X' is sort of our thing, but I don't know that name."

Terra's shaking his head before Demyx is even finished speaking. No, he must know the old man...

"You're wearing his boots," he accuses, the beginnings of a snarl wrinkling his nose and baring some of his teeth. He draws the Keyblade in to prod at one of the boots in question.

Because there's absolutely no other possible explanation for two guys having the same boots. People never shop at the same shoe store or anything like that.

That would have been a perfectly reasonable explanation, if only Demyx had thought of it. He was not always the most sharp of wit.

"I'm telling you, I don't know Xehanort. There's no one named that in the Organization."

He was still attempting to seem innocent, useless. "I got them from the Superior, our Superior, Xemnas."

"Xemnas...?"

Now a name he doesn't know.

But Demyx succeeds both in passing himself off as the harmless, clueless lackey of... some group (probably not a fire fighting or gardening group), and in redirecting Terra's interest to someone else.

Terra untangles his hand from the leather coat and takes a step back. There's no apology for the rough treatment in his expression, but the anger that had burnt bright in his eyes has cooled to a tepid wariness.

"Is this Xemnas here?"

Maybe the 'Superior', as this guy calls him, is the one with a connection to Xehanort. An associate or an ally Terra never met. He'd hardly been privy to all aspects of Xehanort's life... Xehanort could have any number of twisted friends sharing and supporting his goals (and boots).

Clueless was fairly accurate, after all he merely believed whatever Xemnas fed him, and had fed him for years. He wasn't actually aware of much beyond that, in terms of his Superior's plans.

Demyx wasn't expecting apology, most people would never have apologized to him in the first place, for anything.

"He's up on the ship." Demyx pointed. "Frozen."

He was watching Terra warily, but didn't seem particularly upset about being manhandled. If he wanted to do something about it, he would've.

Terra cranes his neck to follow Demyx's point.

Frozen. Asleep.

That seems to satisfy him for now. He nods and backs off another step.

"I want to know if he wakes up. Understand? Find me and tell me if he wakes up."

You know, assuming they survive all this.

"Uh, well if he wakes up I..." Demyx was hesitating, his hands up at his chest in a placating gesture. "If the Superior wakes up I have to do what he says. I can't promise anything."

Terra probably wasn't going to like that.

"There isn't anything I can do about that, it's just how it is. If I disobey him, he's going to be kinda pissed at me."

Terra doesn't like that one bit.

At the same time, he can't really get mad at Demyx for being a pitiful flunky. If anything, Demyx's clear concern about possibly disobeying his leader just has Terra starting to feel a little sorry for him.

If this 'Xemnas' is anything like Xehanort, this guy probably has good cause to toe the line.

"Fine," he'll try for a compromise, then, "If he wakes up, tell him there's a guy here who wants to have a word with him. Think you can do that?"

There were certain ways one could get away with disobeying Xemnas. Stretching out a mission to take a little nap? Certainly not noteworthy to the man, but in a situation where he was possibly sending his Superior into a fight, there would be no good consequence. It wasn't like Demyx had anywhere to run either, the Superior had sealed his fate with that 'X'.

"Sure. I can't promise he'll listen to me, because well, no one listens to me, but I can tell him that."

He shuddered after a moment. "Ugh, imagine if it was just him and I. I'd have to beg for X-face to wake up or something and distract him."

He wasn't Xemnas' biggest fan, but he was where he was in his life, no sense in being upset about it.

"Right," Terra replies flatly. He supposes that'll have to do for the time being, "Thanks."

He starts to go back around Demyx and the tree only to stop short.

"X... face...?"

What is it with these people and the letter 'X'?

"Sure." He smiled and shrugged, telling Xemnas that wasn't any big deal, really.

"Uhh, yeah, sorry, Saix. That's what I call him because he has these scars on his face like an 'X'." Demyx snickered. "Ah, not to his face or anything. He'd kill me and ask questions later."

There was no love lost between him and Saix.

One of Terra's eyebrows hikes up.

"Huh..."

What a pleasant-sounding group.

"And what's your name?"

They sure were a lively, well-adjusted bunch, that was for sure. Demyx looked like he was relaxing a little, now that Terra wasn't seeming so threatening.

"It's Demyx." He answered pleasantly enough. "And you?"

It seemed like that 'X' was a pretty common theme.

Terra sees no reason not to give his name in return. He doesn't know these guys, they don't know him. Might as well exchange names.

"Terra."

No 'nice to meet you' for Demyx, though.

"How many of you are there?"

"That's kind of complicated, I mean, I'm the only one who's awake." Demyx said, referencing that place he just fell from again.

"We were thirteen, but I thought we were only seven left but some of the ones who were gone are up there and it's kinda puzzling. Some of them, I mean, I don't know, some of them could still be traitors, and then they wouldn't really be one of us again..."

He really was very confused about timelines.

If the blank look on Terra's face is anything to go by, Demyx isn't the only one confused by all that.

After a moment, Terra decides... nope, he's not going to ask.

Even if the part about traitors has him curious.

"I've got to get back to the pods. Do whatever you can with your water."

"Don't worry, I'll make myself useful." Demyx commented and decided to stay as far back from Terra as he could. He wasn't sure who he was, but something was unsettling about the entire exchange. He'd have to watch his back.

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earthy - 2017-08-16 16:39 (UTC) - Expand

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