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

[natha]

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 QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● world ● map ● reputation ● npcs taken ● reserves ● application calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[shashka]

[ real men don't need to cook their ducks. ...but Ocelot definitely will be doing so at some point. still, for the time being, the blood doesn't bother him, and he appreciates the gesture. she's certainly one of the smartest wolves he's ever had the pleasure of encountering.

in fact, he'd even go so far as to say that she was smarter than DD (dogson, he is sorry) ]

Thank you.

[ as she settles, turns his head slightly to look at her. she was certainly impressive. ]

I see you've forgiven me for the steak.

[ but it was for your own good. ]

[illuminating]

[Her head cants back to peer at him upside down in acknowledgement about the steak, while her neutral panting keeps up.

Animals rarely hold grudges, unless cruelly tortured. And gods ought to not hold them either, but she doesn't know many of them, only herself, and the ones she created after her, from her.

Sometimes the stomach she has in this shape, the one she doesn't need at all back home, grows eyes she can't compete with, there are instincts ingrained in earthen form she's never bothered to ignore, for the most part, but as one who painted the universe (a universe?) into existence and all natural things, it seems hypocritical to ignore natural tendencies and drives.

It might not be the last time they bicker over food, or who knows what. He knows well now, by that incident, she can be an obstinate monster.

But never mind the steak, or the duck—she grumbles while shifting to sit up, and unceremoniously plops her head on his shoulder. How is he holding up? Any injuries, what is he thinking about, does it irritate him as much as it does her to be stuck down here, or is he fine with how things were executed?

She clearly wants to visit, because she rumbles flutey, whispery groans bordering on whines that are trying to encourage conversation out of him.]

[shashka]

[ a brief smile ghosts over his mouth, as she rests her head on his shoulder, and he gives her a good pat. ]

You can keep a secret, can't you?

[ she was just a wolf. a smart wolf, but an animal nonetheless.

so, he could trust her with a few secrets. it wasn't as though she could ever repeat them for another living soul. ]

They should've let a few of us stay behind to fight with them. Do what we could. There's...

[ he rarely lets his true emotions show. but, despite his codename, he's always felt surprisingly at ease with dogs (or wolves in this case). not that he'd admit it. ]

...Well, I'm sure you've got a friend or two up there as well, don't you? [ another scratch. ] They claim that the others will be safe, but do you think we can be sure?

[ ...he's really talking to a wolf, isn't he? well, it's not like anyone else is going to hear a breath of his concerns. ]

[illuminating]

[Goodness, yes; she's a Cerberus, of sorts, for secrets. Sponge definitely—being filled up with them, trying to soak up a portion of their weight before she and the person who's given some of them away have parted. As soon as he asks, she puffs gently, with an oblique glance, ears pricking in genuine curiosity. A lady waiting for some good gossip.

Nearly, right when he says what she's thinking, she rrrrs out a groaning-whine, an equivalent of Ugh! Honestly!, and it almost—almost—goes into a full growl or possibly rare yap, but she contains herself so he can speak. Hushes soon after, but fidgets, the whole of herself, housing her agitation, louder than her means of verbalizing for a little.

Is he missing someone? Her ears drop in show of tenderness, and with comforting whimpers (her commiserating, I do in reply) she lowers neck to nudge snout under his elbow. He's probably familiar with such badgering affection, having cared for a wolf himself. People tend to think they're aloof—and typically, with humans, they are, but with those they know, they're like this. Goofy, big, furred-things whining, and groaning, and flopping annoyingly on each other. Quite physical in their emotions. The largest difference with her is her tendency to take to just about anyone right away, but the mannerisms are all the same.

And does she think they can be sure? Heavy, she's moping in his lap, now, with softened growls. It feels like a string of uncertainties has been following her. Once, she was positively sure about everything, but then things began that she least expected. Even then, she had some advantage, because mostly, she could see what was coming next, or why certain things had transpired in a certain way—what the outcome would be. But not now.

She didn't sense The Storm even peripherally, and this is a huge blow to her; and a fact even more insurmountable is how far she'd come in her effort to make things right, and having it stolen, with no option for resolution. Those who were pursuing them she never felt either.

Truthfully, she feels like a wisp of what she once was, and she isn't sure about anything anymore, which is a terrible aggravation for a creature as arrogant as she. Maybe she ought to reassure him that he can trust Darma and the others, but she doesn't know them any better than he does, and she's not inclined to give away false hope if it can be helped.]

[shashka]

[ it was strange. almost like they were having an actual conversation. the way she responds to him... even his son DD wasn't quite that impressive.

still, it was comforting to talk to someone (something?). he certainly wouldn't ever be doing that again. he responds to her affection in turn, though he knows he should be more firm.

but, they're having a moment. ]

I've got a... [ he pauses ] ...there's someone up there who I wished woke up with the first wave. [ there. even to an animal, he's not one to reveal too much. ] But, he's always been one to keep everyone waiting.

[ a sigh. ]

No, I guess there really is nothing that we can do, is there? But I've never been good at placing my trust in others. [ particularly those with authority over him. no, he much preferred being in charge of his own fate. and here he was, forced to put it all into someone else's hands. he scratches behind her ears, comforting her the best that he can. ]

[illuminating]

[He scratches near ears to soothe her, and she grumbles responsively, hoping her presence provides something similar. It's not wrong to trust other people, but she supposes it's wise to be careful with how much trust one spares. Although, her focus is true evil, she knows even humans can be unkind and dishonest and worse. It does get on a mother's nerves, but she has to allow humans to develop in their own way, so her interference in such situations is limited. But it's probably true that if she were present and about to witness something too despicable, so long as it had no affect on what's meant to be, she wouldn't be able to keep herself from interefering—she's a lousy god in this regard, because she pays too close attention and she's a little bit too pro-active for her own good.

In any case, she hopes she can show him she's trustworthy down the line, whether he holds her in the same esteem as his fellow species or not. She kind of shifts onto her side, haphazardly resting only somewhat in his lap now, so she can paw at him, and groan, her head flopping upside down. Here and there, she lifts it with these groaning huffs, her tail thumping lazily, and she tries to catch his fingers with teeth that are taking considerable care to not be damaging, considering the work they've done on the duck, and that they're definitely capable of doing.

This playfulness is meant as distraction. And if they both feel they can't trust the Orbiters entirely, perhaps they can try to have faith that things will unfold as they ought to. Even the smallest thing can shift courses, though, can't it? Anyway, trying to chew the sole of his shoe now, there's no use or point in being glum.]

[shashka]

[ while he wasn't the type to believe in Gods, he was quickly growing incredibly fond of this wolf. she was remarkable (if strangely... ethereal, but hey, he'd seen stranger things in his time. maybe it was a by-product of where ever she was from. while she nips at his fingers on one hand, he scratches under her chin. ]

Good girl.

[ he really shouldn't indulge her like this. with DD, he'd always been a strict "father", if nothing else. but, they were newly-arrived in this strange land, and both of them were without people that mattered to them (or, maybe to the extent any ]

He's the paranoid type too, you know. My friend. I'm not sure what he'd make of all of this, but... all that really matters is that he's safe.

[ it's a bold admission. when she moves down to his boot, he lightly taps her nose, drawing attention back to his gloved hands.

after all. who knew if he'd be able to find new spurs here? ]

[illuminating]

[For the scratching, while she nibbles gloved-fingers, she goes still, leaving only her teeth barely resting around fingertips, but not clamping down. Her relishing obvious from her slitting or completely closing eyes, and those large predator's groans that keep rumbling out of her from time to time.

She catches his eyes with her own at the mention of his friend, and particularly Ocelot saying he's safe, which is her subtly agreeing. In light of everything, it's the most important to keep in mind.

Wouldn't it be something to find out that a god who painted a whole universe into existence wanted to chew on your boots? Well, she's driven by this form's earthly instincts more often than not, and chewing certain material feels nice on the teeth and gums, but luckily, there's no damage done with him being quick to deter her. Dimpling of the rubber or leather or whichever it is under her fangs, but she hadn't sunk them down enough to puncture, and so it all rises back into place.

After the tap, open-mouthed, teasing around his hand this way, she grumbles in mock argument at him, but finally does gnaw his knuckles, only slight pressure, nothing damaging—of course. Off in the distance, further into a collection of their fellow refugees sitting around, trying to get their bearings, comes the noise of someone crying, like they've been trying to keep it in, and heavy, her head drops on his knee, shifting to try and land her gaze on the exact direction of the source, if not right onto the source themselves.

She groans long into a whine, and pushes herself up, shaking coat once standing, going around his back with those focused eyes and ears to point over his head with fixated listening. She sighs heavily twice, deliberating, and for a moment, she chirrups into similar, repetitive whimpers that mother wolves give wandering or lost pups to call them back to them, a sound of reassurance, and while she does this, she paces behind him, only to lift her head at the weeping commotion when she pauses.

Groans again, tilting muzzle to sniff his ear. She wants to take care of everyone, but she doesn't want to stray from him if he might still need her.]

[shashka]

[ wouldn't it be something indeed? having never believed in Gods despite... having some firsthand experience with ghosts and spirits, it'd be something else. who could believe that he had a God wait patiently for steak?

maybe he'd even be proud of himself. actually, he'd almost certainly be proud of himself.

when she makes her "argument", he answers with a shrug.

good dog.

again, he really has to question her sheer intelligence and her seeming determination to help others in need. ]

Don't worry about me. I'm used to taking care of myself. There's not much to do right now but worry, is there?

[ and... perhaps to reassure her... ]

The name's Ocelot, by the way. Like the cat. Try not to be a stranger, okay?

[illuminating]

[Ocelot, she thinks, similarly to if she could actually repeat it. Even if she's not able to use it, she still appreciates knowing.

Sorry, too, Mister, but you get a wolf's way of parting (or greeting)—which is her grooming his hair briefly once more, before she moves around him and there she goes. Trotting first, loping soon, and growing smaller and smaller as she cuts across the expanse to meet with whoever it is that needs comforting, those wildflowers rushing after her.

She will certainly bother him again.]