❪ 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

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torches )

[cadeuces]

Angela had just gone back for another armful to deploy and headed back into the silence when she sees a similar light floating through the fog, hearing someone's voice. No one is answering— she worries it may be another case of voices whispering in someone's ear, so she approaches with some fraction of caution even as she trots closer.

He'll likely see her approaching, as well. Still, she calls out to break the silence, even if it's soft.

"Hello? I think you're drifting from the formation!"

Finally his shape comes into view, and then actual features and colors.

Phew. He's real. The relief is palpable in her face, smiling a little wider for it as she approaches his side and has a glance up at his face.

"Would you mind some company?"

[lednikovyy]

He looks a little relieved once she gets close enough to see.

"Wouldn't mind company at all." He smiles a little. It's nice to talk to someone other than himself. Moving around blind like this is a little rough for him without some kind of communication. It's too isolating and it feels too much like being lost inside his own head.

He shifts the torches in his arm. "I'm Bucky."

[cadeuces]

That's two for two, then. You could almost call them twins (don't actually call them twins)— and his immediate acceptance of her presence has an easy press of her fingertips to his arm, some simple little confirmation that yes, there is a real warm-blooded person there, and she's just as relieved to hear his voice as she had been to see him.

All this because of a fog. Goodness.

"Buddy systems are never a bad idea after all, hmm? I'm Angela. It's very nice to meet you, Bucky."

Why did that sound familiar, though? She swore she'd met another Bucky already, but perhaps the fog is dampening more than just their moods and their eyesight. This wasn't the same man. He shifts his torches around and she does the same so she can hold out a hand to shake, even if it may seem a silly time for it.

"The last ones were back this way, and I think we had to take the left fork. They have to lead northwest, right? Toward the outpost."

Not that she's an expert on the terrain, but saying it aloud may spark better recollection for him, if he happens to be.

[lednikovyy]

He shakes her hand easily. "Nice to meet you, too, Angela." And he means it, even if the circumstances aren't ideal.

With a glance back the way she came and forward on their path, he nods. "And yeah, that's the way we're headed. Have you been to Nadril before?"

Bucky was only there for a few weeks, but he has fond memories of the place. It had been interesting and a bit of a calm before the storm for him. It had been a place to regroup and make some new friends after waking up here and he'd fucking needed that.

[cadeuces]

He has good hands, she thinks. Warm even in the fog, a little rough from use, but it's easy. (Too bad she hasn't noticed the other one's metal yet.) She would have placed her other atop it if she'd had it free to enunciate the smile she gives him, head tipping in consideration. Both of him and his words, of the way he eventually indicates.

Sorry, old habits. He looks away and she takes the chance to look him over and see if he's at all injured, or if there's anything she needs to be considerate of. He seems all right, at least.

"I have, very briefly. I only just arrived here not long ago, and leaving the station took us to Nadril to run through some simulations. I spent a few hours there after, enjoying the cold weather, but they didn't exactly have room for visitors to stay the night. It had reminded me of home. I headed toward Wyver where some friends were after that, and had a look at Olympia as well. And you?"

Her accent may give her away for what home had meant— fairly German, with that light upturn at the ends of her words making them a bit more playful and far less harsh than what he may have once known.

[lednikovyy]

"I was there for a few weeks when I first got here about six months ago. My friends were living in Olympia, though, so I followed them here." It had been a pretty wild ride for him, but this place has felt like home, at least until Steve and Peggy had gone back into stasis. After that, it had felt pretty lonely living in the home they'd invited him into.

"Do you prefer German?" The question is given in German with a light accent but a clear comfort with the language. It's one of the easier ones for him to rely on, because he'd learned bits of it in the war even before HYDRA had gotten their hands on him.

[cadeuces]

"Six months, goodness. You have me beat. I truly don't want to live in Wyver where those I know are, but I suppose I've considered it. I can understand wanting to be near those we care about, and I'd not seen them in a very long time."

Thought them dead for six years, even, while they'd allowed her to think as much. It's not a great feeling, but there it is. She relates, in no small terms. She also knows that bone-deep loneliness when your family is gone just as suddenly.

Whatever turn the conversation had taken, however, seems to fall by the wayside as he addresses her in German and she looks positively delighted— she grins bright, slipping into traditional German like a glove. Her own dialect would be a little lost on him.

"Only if you would like to speak it with someone. I am comfortable in English as well." He does have a bit of an accent, but it's a charming one. His pronunciation is clear and he does well with it. Color her impressed.

[lednikovyy]

"English is easier, but German's not too hard for me. I used to travel a lot." It's an easy explanation. Travel, the army. He always keeps his story vague here. It's safer for everyone and he's still never sure quite who he can trust. Besides Steve and Peggy, he's only ever been honest with a few people.

"Wyver is interesting. I think I liked Nadril the most out of everywhere I've been here." But of course, he was always going to live where his friends had been. Peggy had invited him and his yes had been a given. "I like the cold, too."

[cadeuces]

His build tells her it was certainly more than travel, the way he carries himself a bit easier than the typical demeanor, but their posture is drilled into them as well as a multitude of other things. She's fairly certain he is, or at least had been, a soldier. People had their reasons for keeping their truths close to their chest, though, and she won't pry.

"You must have been around Germany for a fair amount of time. Your pronunciation is excellent. —I'm afraid my accent pegs me as Swiss far too readily; you'd blend in better than I would."

It's a light poke at herself as much as it is a compliment to him, keeping the levity between them, beating back the fog by sheer force of will and the brightness of a smile.

"Interesting is a kind way to put it; I still don't know what to make of dragons. But I think Nadril is my favorite, as well. Years in the desert made me miss home, so the snow and the opportunity to bundle up had been welcome. Once we make it there, we should find some hot chocolate."

Was there anything better in the cold? Survey says: not even close. She sets the next torch down and holds the pilot torch to light it, and the next one can be his turn in another ten feet or so.

[lednikovyy]

"I spent a few years there. I guess I'm just good with languages." It's not a lie, really. He speaks a lot of them now. It's probably more than he can even really recall.

"I hadn't been home for a while before I came here, though." And now he can't go back, even if he weren't worried about being arrested or captured. He hasn't been back to Brooklyn since the war and even though he knows it hadn't been the same in recent years, he'd still pined for something he couldn't have. It hadn't been until he'd seen Steve again that he'd realized what he'd really been missing.

"Hot chocolate sounds nice, though. We should." The world might be ending again, but Bucky can't keep living like it's already over. He's been trying not to, anyway. He's been trying for a while now.

[cadeuces]

"That's a wonderful skill to have. I wish I picked up on them better, but I can only remember a few key phrases relating to my job after the first few. Two German dialects, English, and a passing amount of conversational French is about my limit. My Arabic is... not very good, either."

Admitted with a wry little smile, almost looking apologetic for it. She doesn't pronounce it very well and she has a very difficult time parsing it as a written language, but she's learned enough to know what she's looking at on a medical chart if nothing else.

"And where was 'home'?" She wasn't very good with American accents to begin with, and he doesn't seem to have one to her ear, either way. She could tell a Southwestern drawl or a heavy New Yorker apart, but the rest blends or she can't place it to any one locale or another.

Still, they had the little things. All they could do was make more to look forward to and hope it would be enough. This is yet another one. Promises to reconnect with someone and ensure they have an eye out for one another. If either didn't show, they'd know something went wrong somewhere and they needed help, most like.

"We will, then. Without fail, I'll be wherever there's an aid tent or a refuge as close to the entrance as possible. I shouldn't be difficult to find."

She's always where people need a doctor. They walk along another ten feet and she stops them, a tip of her head indicating it's his turn to place a torch.

[lednikovyy]

"Arabic is hard." He speaks it, but not as easily as German or Russian. It just sounds so different and he hasn't used it as much. He's often hard-pressed to name the languages he speaks unless they come up. So much knowledge is just in there, laying dormant until it's needed. He hadn't even realized he'd known Arabic until he'd heard someone else speaking it on his way out of DC.

"And I'm from Brooklyn originally, but I've mostly been in Europe lately. I was in Bucharest for a few months. Just left it before I woke up here." And in between Bucharest and Siberia, he'd been arrested and had his programming activated. It hadn't been a great time, but he'd liked Bucharest. It had been the sort of busy that lets a man like him get lost for a while.

"I've got to find some people once we get up there, but maybe I'll come help with the aid after that." He might not be a professional, but he's always happy to do the heavy lifting and help where he can.

[cadeuces]

"There are a lot of rules! I'm sure I must sound like a toddler when I try, but I think I get my message across. I only ever really have a few questions to ask. Show me where you hurt, do you have allergies, hand them a list to point at. You're going to be okay."

All delivered as eloquently as possible, but it is clear she still needs practice. Her grammar likely suffers yet it does the job well enough. When he goes on to mention Brooklyn (and then Bucharest), she smiles with a draw up of her shoulders— Brooklyn always seemed down to earth, for a place in New York. Everyone had always seemed so hard-working.

"I think that suits you perfectly, though I still never would have guessed. Did you enjoy Bucharest? It's a beautiful city." Or was. She's going to snag on that every time, isn't she? It has her looking away for a moment, apologetic.

The offer of help, even a tentative one, has her smiling at him again and nodding, broken from the thought.

"Oh, of course. If there's anyone you would like me to keep an eye out for, as well, I can send you a message if I see them. I'd simply appreciate the company, but if you're handy with bandages, I'll never turn down a helping hand."

All other things could be taught as well, of course, if he didn't already know.

[lednikovyy]

"It was nice." His time in Bucharest had been strange, mostly holed up while more memories resurfaced, but he'd figured some of it out before Steve had caught up to him. It hadn't been bad until it all went south, but it hadn't been home. Nothing had been until he'd found a way to make one here.

He shoots her a look of sympathy, though. Accepting that the world had truly ended had been a lot. Some days, he still feels like it's a dream and he'll wake up passed out in Siberia, like this was all a concussion after Stark caught up to him.

"And there's, uh, a girl who's a little spacey. Answers to the name River. If you see her, will you let me know?" River's not spacey, of course, but Bucky's pretty sure he's one of the few people who knows that, just like River's one of the few people who knows a lot of Bucky's past. It's just the easiest way to describe the sort of dreamy way she tends to talk.

[cadeuces]

"I'm glad; I was fond of the castle myself, the one time I went. I wish I'd had time to do more than just pass through."

That would be something she could relate to, as well. Not ever feeling like you'd had a stable "home". She could make herself comfortable near anywhere she went, but it wasn't the same as having somewhere to return to and knowing it's permanent. That you could truly relax. That people you knew and loved were around.

That sympathetic look he offers her is one she meets with a chagrined smile and a little shrug, conveying what can we do? in so many gestures, because it's done and over with. They can mourn it, and that's healthy, but there was no getting around accepting it.

"River— understood. What does she look like?"

[lednikovyy]

"Early 20s, long dark hair, propensity to ramble." He smiles a little. "She was one of the first people I met after waking up. Her big brother's still asleep. I try to look out for her."

He won't share the rest: that they were both brainwashed and used by bad men, that River's a little too understanding, often jumping topics, maybe reading thoughts. He can see how others might assume she's crazy, but Bucky knows better than anyone that she's saner than she should be after what she's been through. Hell, he probably is, too. Neither of them should have come back from that. They certainly hadn't been built to.

"If you mention me to her, it might help if she's scared. Everyone else I know's pretty... they can all take care of themselves, you know? Mostly all military or similar enough. I'll find them in Nadril." In fact, Bucky doesn't have many friends here who aren't military or spies or both. It might just be River if he really thinks about it. "You got anyone from back home around here?"

[cadeuces]

"I'll do what I can to help in that, Bucky. She sounds like a dreamer. Shouldn't be too hard to miss, and I'll be sure to mention you." The smile's one she echoes after listening to his explanation, already knowing how close an eye she wants to keep on those she's met so far.

First bonds were always important. And she supposes... "May I ask something similar in return? There's a tall man in his 20s with short white hair and a scar across his nose, and a dark-haired one with facial hair like so—" Forgive her, Tony. She's holding her thumbs and forefingers up in a general square shape over her mouth. She forgets the name of the style. Something with a farm animal? "—and a bit of an attitude, early 40s. Their names are Shiro and Tony. If you happen into them, could you try to have their backs, just for a bit?"

Shiro knows where to find her when they arrive in Nadril— she'd run into him earlier down in Wyver before they split ways to help others. She has yet to see her friend from the station who won out on the wild goose chase for coffee. But the fact is this: they're both quite shoddy at asking for help, and she worries. She doesn't want to inconvenience him overmuch, and she's sure Tony, at least, wouldn't take kindly to some stranger (ha) tailing him, and they all had their goals to accomplish.

"I'm sure they can take care of themselves as well, but no one should be left alone in this. It sinks its claws in so quietly no one seems to realize it until it's too late." Again, she worries. Quite easily, really. "Just a couple of them who are awake, and I wasn't able to find them earlier, but I'm sure they're together. They've always had each other's backs. They're veterans. There are a handful more in cryo, as well. And you? It sounds like you have some, at least; I'm glad."