❪ event ❫ THE DESCENT: PART ONE.

[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 2 will be posted on JULY 18TH and PART 3 on JULY 22ND, at 6 PM EST. In the event of CAPTCHA, we will be providing an overflow. In the event of a second CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals. 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 QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● world ● map ● reputation ● npcs taken ● reserves ● application calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[vacuum]

[ He can think of a few situations where 'But I'm dead' could win an argument, and this may be one of them. Oda's dead. Things like rank shouldn't even matter to a dead man, and it's arguable that he may not even be a part of the Port Mafia anymore now that he's died on duty. Come to think of it, does the organisation even still exist? Right now, the Boss was sleeping in one of those stasis pods, and Chuuya didn't know how long it would be before he'll be ready to awaken.

It feels comical to hold on to something like his rank. His sentiment still stands, though. Being shielded by a person he should be protecting - that wounds his pride. He still feels grateful, however. Grateful to have someone in this strange new world that cares enough about him to save him, even if they may only be acquiantances. Here, he really only has Dazai, and their standing in each other's eyes is ... questionable. ] Do whatever the hell you want.

[ He's not Akutagawa. He doesn't bear his teeth indiscriminately like a stray dog. Chuuya knows when he should clamp up and accept kindness, and this is such a situation. As he walks, he glances at the blood staining Oda's coat, the shrapnel no doubt driving into his skin. At the sight of it, he frowns again, but waits until they're in a safer part of the woods.

He then stops Oda, gripping onto his sleeve. ] Hey. Take off that shirt.

[buraiha]

[ are we already doing the yaoi part of this program.

but yeah, he will, he almost answers, but stops himself before he irritates chuuya even more. he gets the sense that he's just somehow slipped into a zone where he's neither hated by nor offended the other man, but that it was as tenuous as their connection to each other. does the port mafia still exist anymore? that's a question that's a little too philosophical for oda to handle, not to mention that he doesn't really have the right to ask it. he did, after all, die. he's practically a defector. he no longer has the qualifications to be a mafia member, and so he shuts his mouth and allows chuuya to take the lead.

all around them, pods fall like rain. the smell of smoke and soot is overwhelming. it makes oda wonder if it's okay for them not to help the other falling pods, but then it occurs to him that this may all be for his own sake -- chuuya's uninjured and could have very well ditched him there in the crater, but here he is, trekking off with him, and there they are, finding shelter in the woods.

his suspicions are confirmed when he feels a tug on his sleeves.

for a moment, he just looks at chuuya, wondering if he should say something. decline, maybe. ask him if he could go back to try and save more people, because oda himself is too powerless. but in the end, the part of oda that quietly goes along with other people's wishes win over, and his gaze dips for a moment, before he closes his eyes. obediently, he begins to take off his trenchcoat, wincing only the slightest when the fabric rubs up against some of his wounds. ]

I didn't grab any bandages. [ or anything at all from his pod. and everything is probably up in flames, anyway. in theory, he could rip his trenchcoat apart to make a makeshift kind of bandage. sitting down onto the forest floor, he begins to gingerly take off the shirt underneath.

it really does hurt more now than it did before. ]

[vacuum]

[ yes this is yaoi fuckin deal with it

He ordered Oda to take off his shirt because he wanted to see the extent of the damage. This was an injury Oda had sustained while saving him, and that also makes it a responsibility that falls on Chuuya's shoulders. Oda may not feel this way, but Chuuya certainly does. He's also ... concerned. Genuinely concerned. ] That's fine. We can use mine.

[ He's not sure many rations Oda managed to grab onto before his pod exploded, but it doesn't look enough to sustain him. Chuuya expects needing to share his supplies, and that's something he's fine with if he's traveling with a comrade. Putting down his bag, he goes digging out that first aid kit. He then settles behind Oda.

With the hundreds of times he's had to do this for a certain suicidal maniac, Chuuya's practically an expert at field first-aid (he's not, but his handiwork passes at least). ] Sheesh. The debris really fucked up this back of yours.

[ He can even see small bits of metal still lodged into the skin. ]

[buraiha]

[ his shirt comes off. it's not necessarily cold. the knowledge that they're currently sitting on the outskirts of a danger zone keeps him alert enough that the cooler air only prickles at his skin. ]

I've had worse. Don't bother with the smaller pieces; I'll live.

[ it's with a sort of morbid curiosity that oda picks out where the bullet had entered him, the through-and-through. the skin there near the phantom entrance wound is still pinkish, implying that someone, or something, or some force patched him up before tossing him into a pod. the who is less questionable than the why, but that's something that oda can ponder slowly in his own time. instead, he leaves himself to chuuya's field first-aid, the pain barely eliciting winces nor twitches.

it occurs to him that chuuya must have patched up dazai a hundred times, hence why he seems oddly practiced at it. oda makes a conscious decision to skirt that particular topic. ] What's the plan after this?

[vacuum]

[ It's hard not to stare at the obvious affliction, that large scar in Oda's chest that he knows had come from the bullet wound. Chuuya wasn't in the city when that incident had happened, but he's not so out of touch he doesn't know what happened. Some guy in the lower ranks tried to take on a whole organization single-handedly, and was apparently good enough to take down its boss. Unfortunately, it seems like he perished in the fight as well. That's the story the Port Mafia remembers it by anyway. It's kind of surreal that that person is standing before him now, and the evidence of his actions is exposed for all to see.

It's a can of worms, and he's not going to bring up something pointless when it would only do more harm than good. As he picks the pieces of metal out of Oda's back, he purposefully avoids the old scar. ] I'll take out what I can. If it all gets left in there you'll probably get infected, and that's a stupid way to go.

[ He's in no way a doctor, but it feels like he's done this many, many times. It's tiring to think about.

The plan, though ... Chuuya isn't the type to think so many steps ahead. His main go is to reach civilization. ] We'll do what that white-haired woman tells us to for now, because we'll probably have a better chance in the capital than we'll have out here in the woods.