❪ event ❫ what is the storm—?

[natha]

What is the storm —?     The sky is falling. The moon draws closer, visibly now. Whether you've found out from Nurray, or somewhere else, everyone now knows that in about a week, Thesa will collide with El Nysa. However, not all is lost - Nurray has a plan. Old technology is being powered by the storm somehow, giving the developers in Nadril the means they need to create a device capable of jumping back into the past. The device can only transport to one singular point in time per activation, but passing through is a better chance for safety than remaining. As long as you're in Nadril you'll make it, which is why she'll urge everyone to try to get all their business done and travel back north. At first, it was a mere atmospheric pressure drop. Headaches, a sense of dread in the gut, and a chill that would not be quelled drifted over all of El Nysa's inhabitants. And then the days grew shorter. By hours at a time, until there was nothing left but night. Still lit with stars, people turned to Thesa, to their scholars, to their shamans for answers. None came, only exploding lights in the sky. One by one, stars began to burst, like the grimmest of fireworks. For one dreadful night, the sky was alight once more with the death of the surrounding galaxy as thousands of stars extinguished in a blaze. And then came the lightning, low hanging clouds and whipping wind that howls at all hours. It brings with it calamity, beasts and fog and a reality shattering effect that progresses ever closer. Against these unstoppable odds, the people of Nysa are finally united - desperate, and determined to preserve their homeland. IN WYVER     The life that imbues the jungle town has gone still. Animals do not seek shelter - they simply lay forlorn, lethargic and unresponsive to even their dearest handlers. The wild creatures are no different, with predator and prey supping from the same stream, seemingly resigned. Once vibrant plant life droops, blotted into obscurity by the darkness that surrounds. Only the people of this great kingdom remain lively, though their actions are fueled by desperation, than valor. A rally cry rings out over Wyver, even to Olympia, begging anyone who is able to fight. Beasts no one has ever seen before have begun to attack, roaming the city and the lands surrounding as if it is their hunting ground. These creatures are cobbled together from the many worlds the storm has consumed - perhaps your own included. They could bear familiar technology, animal features, or even a loved one's visage. No matter their composition, they are always amalgamous, and always crazed. The valiant warriors fighting these creatures have more to worry about than just the monsters. Their own bodies may become entangled and fused - an effect that only wears off when one retreats from the storm's epicenter. Specters also drift through the onslaught, oddly peaceful compared to the frenzy surrounding. They are wholly composed people, memories from planets devoured. Someone you know, perhaps, stuck in a loop - the same five minutes - for hours before fading away. They cannot be killed, doing so will simply reset the loop; they will vanish on their own, as mysteriously as they came. I. THE FRONTLINES Wyver might not be able to fully understand exactly what is happening, but they've already assigned a task force to combat these apparitions that have begun plaguing the jungle Kingdom. But the Storm is sentient; it has always gathered what it's known of the habitants of the universes the Storm has swallowed. And as it begins to unravel El Nysa, it will begin to learn of your time here — yes, it knows that you are trying to stop the Storm from happening, somehow. It knows you're looking to fight you way back north, and it simply cannot let that happen. After all, El Nysa is an anomaly created by Darma. All of its inhabitants, organisms, and even existence were not supposed to be. The apparitions start off monstrous at first, taking forms of ghostly bestiaries. Your weapons won't do much to get rid of them — they will disappear, but only temporarily, until they come back. Each time, more evolved than the last — until it's able to take on the form of someone who has left you, someone who has returned to the stasis chambers in Thesa, awaiting to be devoured by the Storm. Your partner will likely be doing the same, haunted by images of their loved ones of the past — and there is a possibility that as you fight along with your partner, that these apparitions will combine into ghastly, wretched creatures, serving no other purpose than to spook you into submission. They will fight you, embrace you, and seduce you into staying. "Let the Storm take care of this," they'd stay — "You've got it all wrong. You and that Witch had it all so, so wrong." Will you make it out of Wyver, or will you let the Storm take you? IN OLYMPIA     All of Olympia is awash in fog. It creeps in around each and every corner, so thick it is almost difficult to breathe, and even more difficult to see. You can hear the panicked citizens all around you, although through the fog, their shapes are indistinct and almost menacing. A family fleeing from something might look like a quick-moving, multi-headed monster, or perhaps a lone man hauling his belongings to safety on his back might appear to be an imposing creature with wicked claws. And then, of course, there are the figures that look achingly familiar to you, like someone you've lost or care for deeply… but then, when you catch up to them, they vanish, only to call out for you from somewhere further in the city. Tread carefully — with your impaired vision, it would be all too easy to inadvertently wind up injured. Of course, this isn't solely due to the hazards obscured by the mist, although that is certainly part of it. The fog has a quality to it that serves to amplify the desires and lower the inhibitions of everyone exposed to it. II. SILENT HILL Similarly, Olympia isn't properly equipped to deal with a crisis like this. Wars, they are certainly accustomed to — but when their very own land is indiscriminately being torn apart by alien forces, it is uncertain to know for sure what they can do. Word from Nadril is that the inhabitants up north has opened its gates for everyone to enter — this is news to Olympia, but they do not hesitate to migrate to the chilly gates regardless. The first obstacle, of course, is to find a way out of Olympia. The fog is debilitating, but you may not immediately notice it. It starts small. A spark of annoyance at getting cut off by someone you barely saw coming might twist itseful up in you until it becomes unbridled rage. Simple fear becomes indescribable terror, and of course, people are at their worst when they are acting on fear. If what you want is an escape, you may find yourself willing and able to do things you simply could not fathom in order to get out of there. If what you want is riches… well, there is plenty of wealth ripe for the taking, should you simply ambush someone fleeing or break into their homes. The longer you spend in the fog, the more difficult it will become to fight back these urges. If the fear doesn't completely paralyze you, you may find that there is a rather unconventional yet risky way of alleviating this ailment -- which might require someone you trust. The thing is, upon holding someone, all of your fears will be transferred unto that person. It will then be your duty, then, to escort them out of the fog before your fears start to completely deteriorate your ally's psyche. Move quickly, or you may both be crumbled by the weight of this Storm and its fog. IN NADRIL     The journey north is treacherous, but not without its own rewards. Nadril is marked by a storm that is raging at the territory's edge, as if the forces of nature are attempting to do away with the border itself. Strangely, the storm seems to be stopped by the borders — electricity crackles in midair as snow and ice whip about, disintegrating when they touch what seems to be an invisible dome sheltering the area. Inside, the weather is even stranger. The iced-over lakes have begun to thaw, and it is warmer and brighter than anyone here can recall it ever being — almost as if it is summer near the Olympia-Wyver border, not the dead of winter near the northernmost part of the isles. There is an almost palpable level of unease as those who live here full-time attempt to adapt to their new climate. Everyone is working, however. At the center of Nadril is what they all hope will be a solution to their problems: they claim it is a time machine, and that they have tested it through simulations and believe that it can, and will, work. They are already using it to help combat the storm at the borders — at times it does manage to penetrate the dome, but when it does, engineers turn back the clock an hour at a time to so that they can divert power to the parts of the shield that they know will need reinforcement. Be careful when this happens — it would be very easy to run into your own double in such a circumstance, and that could be… awkward, until enough time passes to bring you back to the "present" and you merge once more, taking on the memories of everything that you and your double (or triple, or quadruple) have experienced. Operating such a machine will take manpower, which the people of Nadril are prepared to provide. However, the undertakings they will require in the past — waking the gods, who they believe can provide protection from the Storm if you can convince them — will require all of you. Relying on a single person to change history is untenable. Only by working together will you be able to make the jump to the past and secure your future. III. INCEPTION Most importantly, there will need to be volunteers to undergo stasis. Pods that were similar to those in Thesa can be found all over the city center, beckoning people to sleep now, and hopefully wake to better tomorrow. But just as the Storm benefits some technology, it negatively affects others — but this is to do with the mind more than technology itself. For one, those undergoing stasis will find themselves dreaming of a better time in their lives — be it their homeworld or some other happy memory of theirs. The Storm magnifies this dream — everyone within a certain radius will find themselves entering the dream, despite being wide awake. Inside this dream, you will know instantly that something is awry. The events of reality, of the awoken, are beginning to seep into the sleeping person's dream. The lines between dream and reality become blurred, and you've been tasked to ensure that they remain asleep. That means that you must guide them into believing that nothing is awry with their happier memories, that they are not dreaming, and guide them through it. Ensure that the nightmares of reality be kept at bay, and that they may sleep through it all. The Ark of the Woken     The Ark of the Woken awaits, its chambers an imposing majesty of their own. Compared to the sleek design of Thesa, the Ark is a cobbled together patchwork of technology. But even with its exposed wires and manual input systems, Nurray promises it will get the job done. That is, once the pods have been brought to it from Thesa. The targets are Thesans who have previously awoken, however, no one has time to actually inventory the sleeping ones brought to this hamlet. If you choose to bring someone else, you'll probably get away with it. The procedure is harrowing - severing the pods from Thesa runs the risk of interrupting the life support system inside. To compensate, there is a small device that can be hardwired into a port on the back of the pod. It's fragile, and the function it provides only lasts twenty minutes. You have that time to move the pod to a small ship, and pilot it planetside yourself. Nurray suggests traveling in pairs - the Natha duo pilot ships are faster, and more reliable. However, they rely on a neurolink between pilots. If one is not focused, the ship may begin to malfunction. While navigating through rough turbulence, each pilot will be able to feel the others emotions, and hear whispers of their thoughts. All while the storm clouds around them play glimpses into their memories. Snippets, only seconds long, from the perspective of the pilot, provide easy distraction. Stay on task, and make your landing safely - your lives and others are depending on it. A Simpler Time     Your seven days is up. You have (mostly) achieved all your tasks, and you are now waiting. Those harrowing last hour may stay with you forever — while your peers tirelessly secure the time machine's effectiveness, you watch as Thesa draws closer. It's closer to you than you've ever seen it, more menacing than you realize as it threatens the lives of everyone you ever cared for. Alria, the lesser known moon, is first pulled toward Thesa, crushing a side of it. You may witness debris spilling into space and dissipate into the atmosphere. You might think, perhaps, that those were bodies of some you were told not to bring to the Ark. But you're assured many times that that won't matter, that this can be fixed if you simply wait and watch. The time machine will work. It's into the final minute, and time seems to stop — yet, you feel your breath catch as Thesa penetrates the atmosphere. You can no longer breathe, and gravity loses all its bearings on the laws of physics. As you float into the air, you're wondering if the light that engulfs you is an explosion — you might wonder if it could be death. At the very least, you are among people you've known on this planet. It isn't as though you were never meant to survive the first Storm. Simply close your eyes, and the Storm run its course. In the distance, you hear a muted voice. What is the Storm, But an attempt to cleanse the world — Of its anomalies? Open your eyes, Traveler, Where are you now? FINAL OOC NOTES     Welcome to El Nysa, Year XXX. Due to the time warping of the Storm, this event will not strictly follow the 1:1 ratio. Additional information about this world will be revealed early next month! For now, play at your pace. RNG for NPC threads will announced later tonight! RECOMMENDED LISTENING: Live Forever QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs ● bestiary taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp ● quest bulletin calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[reek]

[ Torn in two. He’s always torn in two. Claire has a grip on him so tight that she could bruise, but Ramsay could hurt him more, and he can feel Ramsay’s eyes boring into the back of his skull, urging him to say it. Maybe Claire can’t see him, but Theon knows he’s there. If he looked up, he’s certain he would see those terrifying, pale eyes staring at him through the fog. ]

Reek.

[ She won’t like it. He knows she won’t, but it’s the only answer he can speak aloud. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

No. You're not Reek. You have to remember your name. Your words, Theon.

[He also told her he'd rather be dead than be Reek, but when things are terrifying, he'd prefer to be Reek than Theon.]

Whoever you think you hear or see, they're not here. This isn't real, but I am. All right? We have to go home.

[At least she's fairly certain what's in the fog can't do more than fuck with their minds. But for Theon, that's enough.]

[reek]

[ He shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut, wishes she’d stop calling him that name. He’ll hurt you, he thinks. He’ll hurt both of us. Ramsay can’t know he’s ever said those things. Not ever. ]

I’m not him. I’m not the turncloak.

[ He wishes Claire would leave and return home to her family. He would rather stay here in the fog, miserable and mad. He knows Ramsay is there, and his father must be as well. It's a double-edged blade: he can't be seen being weak or being Theon. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Theon was never a turncloak in my eyes. You never were disloyal.

[Not to her, not in any way that mattered. One of those hands on his arms lets go, moving towards his neck--to try and see if he's wearing his so-called birthday gift.]

The pendant. The one I gave you. What initial was on it?

[reek]

[ She says he was never disloyal, but he can’t help but think of Robb. He betrayed Robb, no matter what anyone tells him. He betrayed Robb and he can never apologize. ]

I was. I was a traitor.

[ And just like that, without even meaning to, he admits to being Theon. It’s a pitiful thing, but it’s a moment of clarity all the same.

He still wears that pendant, always tucked into his shirt as a silent reminder of who he is, but it does little when he’s lost his senses all together. Claire reminds him of it now, and his fingers reach for the chain to pull it forward. He stares at it for a moment like he’s never seen it before, then grips it tightly in his hand. ]

It was…It was a T.

[ He doesn’t feel Ramsay’s eyes burning through him any longer. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[A bit of a dirty trick, but when he's like this, she'll do anything to get him talking about himself as Theon.]

T. For Theon, your name. I took you to the sea. For your new name day. You remember that. You made fun of me for all my husbands.

[She even manages to sound amused, even if it's a strained sound with everything around them and the tight grip on his arms.]

[reek]

[ He doesn’t laugh at the memory, though he can recall it. He just grips the pendant tighter, eyebrows knitting together. ]

I thought about walking into the sea when Robb left again.

[ He doesn’t feel the heavy weight of his father’s words any longer, just the heavy weight of his own guilt. He feels that every day of his life, though. It’s nothing new, and it’s a good signifier that the fog is lessening its grip on him. ]

I wanted to. I didn’t tell you.

[nineteenfortyfive]

Do you really think I didn't know that?

[It's part of why she's so insistent he stay with her. She knows a part of him doesn't wish to upset her, and so she hopes that keeps him from making foolish mistakes. Not all. But some. The ones he can't take back.]

Once, the only thing that kept me from doing the same was Bree. I understand. I've always understood.

[reek]

[ He shakes his head. Of course she knows. She knows how miserable he is and how desperate he is to shed his guilt. It hurts to acknowledge that a woman he’s known for a year knows him better than anyone - Stark, Greyjoy or Bolton - ever has, but it’s the truth. ]

Jamie said you came out into the fog to look for me.

[ He’s shivering now, whether from cold or the remnants of his anxieties. He won’t look at her. ]

I thought I saw someone, so I followed.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Christ. Jamie's probably unhappy with her, but she'll not regret coming out here on her own to look for Theon. She had to leave Bree, but she left Bree with Jamie and John. She trusts them. Bree will always have a parent. Theon? Only ever her.]

Who?

[Ramsay, Robb, or his father?]

[reek]

It doesn’t matter.

[ He isn’t here. Theon knows that well enough by now. He’s a fragile, broken thing, but once the clouds have cleared, he knows when his head has been toyed with. His luck has never been that good anyway. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Come home with me. Please, Theon.

[She forces herself to let go of his arms to reach for his hands instead. Home isn't much safer because nothing is safe if the world is about to end, but at least it's more familiar than foggy streets.]

I can't go back without you.

[reek]

[ He lets her take his hands, because at least she’s not gripping him to the point of bruising. It’s true that home isn’t any safer. There are ghosts there for him as well, but he’s tired now, too tired to fight. He nods, accepting defeat. ]

I'm sorry.

[ This time, he truly is. He made her worry, made her search for him when she might have been with Bree and Jamie. No one has ever worried about him so much or cared for him so deeply. ]

this is becoming birdbox

[nineteenfortyfive]

[There's a notable difference between him saying sorry and meaning it and saying sorry because he's frightened.]

It's all right. I forgive you.

[She's still upset, still frightened now of what might happen on the way home because before it was just her stumbling blindly through the fog. Now, she has to keep him safe.]

Theon, you don't let go of my hand. No matter what you think you see.

[She tells him not to let go despite her being the one with a hold of his hands.]

theon would be safe because he's already mad

[reek]

[ Warily: ]

What about what I think I hear?

[ He’s heard too many familiar voices in the fog. He wishes they were there, wishes he could follow them and find old friends and family waiting for him, but he doesn’t let go of Claire’s hand. He’s been enough of a burden today. If they can both get through the fog, he can wallow in his sadness at home. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Don't listen. I don't know if I'll hear it, too.

[She's not quite figured out if the fog is simply affecting them individually, or if it's actually manifesting into something visible to more than the... victim, she supposes. Thinking about it makes the panic in her chest swell painfully as she blindly leads them along.]

The entire way out here, I kept hearing the voice of... well, she was my friend, once. My closest friend. She was the only person I ever met that could travel through time like I could.

[Until Bree and Roger, that is, but Claire herself never got to see if they actually could. Bree's confirmed it, now. Her daughter and Gellis' descendant have the gift and the curse of being tied to those stones.]

She kept trying to beckon me deeper into the city. It's probably wise not to heed their advice.

[reek]

I didn’t realize you had friends.

[ It’s a wry joke, perhaps pointed at himself as well. Claire does seem to have more family than she does friends, especially now that Peggy has gone. Perhaps he’s just never paid attention. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[She doesn't. Not really, not anymore.]

I had to kill Geillis. She left me no choice, but I'm sure that's what a lot of people say.

[There's a stumble as Claire nearly walks into a planter that's frustratingly waist height, and she steers Theon around it, other hand stretched out in front of her now.]

Sometimes, when I'm alone, I think I hear her behind me. [And that's on a normal day.] Or feel her eyes on me. She had the most striking eyes. Green, like a cat's.