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[HATCH LOG] STRAP IN
CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: Station 72 | Avera 9
WHEN: Day :161
SUMMARY: New hosts wake up on the Station. Mom and Dad go to pick them up for the school field trip.
WARNINGS: None; will edit if necessary.
ON AVERA 9: A moment ago, the hosts on Avera 9 might have been aware of a hollow feeling in the back of their minds - a lack of something significant. On day :160, that changes for Adara and Castor broods. An empty, waiting slot is filled. With little warning, Prince and Cathaway announce they are returning to the Station. Even Prince - normally focused and attentive - seems distracted. There are reasons they don't usually leave the Station. This is one of them.
ON STATION 72: On day :161, two hosts wake up in the vaguely claustrophobic chambers of the Nesting Deck. There's a weight on their chests, a sharp tug like some piece of them is being pulled elsewhere - but maybe that's just the tube running from the rear wall of the chamber connected to the base of their skulls. Once disconnected, Jessica and Petre may collect their personal belongings - carefully organized in the cubby at the mouth of the compartment - and then slide feet first out into the Nesting Deck.
They aren't alone. First, there is a sound - a sensation - of something whispering too low to hear. More obviously though, there are two figures - a man and a woman - waiting for them at the center of the polished deck. The woman is easy, gentle through every one of her angles except person her pin straight hair and the piercing too-reflective quality of her gaze; the man is sharp, staunch, and his jaw is set.
Prince and Cathaway will offer answers, but it's clear there's an urgency here. The Prince, at least, seems anxious to hustle Petre and Jessica along to the hangar. The other hosts have been left to their own devices and the Prince has little trust for them. It isn't long before the two new hosts are ushered to the ship and urged to join Prince in returning to Avera 9. Today they'll be left to the tender mercies of Prince's capable but inelegant flying, as it appears Cathaway is opting not to make the trip with them.
"Be well," she tells the new hosts. Far away on Avera 9, the old hosts find her warm milk, honey sweet voice in their heads. It is intimately near, as if she weren't somewhere entirely different:
( Please return to the landing zone at-- [a sensation of time, an implication of navigation and the tilt of the planet and stars rotating overhead that is abstract but nonetheless clear as day]. The Prince brings you new hosts. Please support them. )
When the shuttle drops down again, it is with the expectation that the other Hosts be there to meet them and to take in the new members. --And maybe to get another lecture from The Prince, if the situation calls for it.
((OOC: This log will cover both the short time aboard Station 72 for the new Hosts should they chose to use it, as well as their landing on Avera 9, open to all of the Hosts new and old. Consider it a check in before they’re again allowed to go back to their scroungingand stabbing.
For additional hatch information, see the previous hatch log. For general information on Avera 9, see this ooc post.))
WHERE: Station 72 | Avera 9
WHEN: Day :161
SUMMARY: New hosts wake up on the Station. Mom and Dad go to pick them up for the school field trip.
WARNINGS: None; will edit if necessary.
ON AVERA 9: A moment ago, the hosts on Avera 9 might have been aware of a hollow feeling in the back of their minds - a lack of something significant. On day :160, that changes for Adara and Castor broods. An empty, waiting slot is filled. With little warning, Prince and Cathaway announce they are returning to the Station. Even Prince - normally focused and attentive - seems distracted. There are reasons they don't usually leave the Station. This is one of them.
ON STATION 72: On day :161, two hosts wake up in the vaguely claustrophobic chambers of the Nesting Deck. There's a weight on their chests, a sharp tug like some piece of them is being pulled elsewhere - but maybe that's just the tube running from the rear wall of the chamber connected to the base of their skulls. Once disconnected, Jessica and Petre may collect their personal belongings - carefully organized in the cubby at the mouth of the compartment - and then slide feet first out into the Nesting Deck.
They aren't alone. First, there is a sound - a sensation - of something whispering too low to hear. More obviously though, there are two figures - a man and a woman - waiting for them at the center of the polished deck. The woman is easy, gentle through every one of her angles except person her pin straight hair and the piercing too-reflective quality of her gaze; the man is sharp, staunch, and his jaw is set.
Prince and Cathaway will offer answers, but it's clear there's an urgency here. The Prince, at least, seems anxious to hustle Petre and Jessica along to the hangar. The other hosts have been left to their own devices and the Prince has little trust for them. It isn't long before the two new hosts are ushered to the ship and urged to join Prince in returning to Avera 9. Today they'll be left to the tender mercies of Prince's capable but inelegant flying, as it appears Cathaway is opting not to make the trip with them.
"Be well," she tells the new hosts. Far away on Avera 9, the old hosts find her warm milk, honey sweet voice in their heads. It is intimately near, as if she weren't somewhere entirely different:
When the shuttle drops down again, it is with the expectation that the other Hosts be there to meet them and to take in the new members. --And maybe to get another lecture from The Prince, if the situation calls for it.
((OOC: This log will cover both the short time aboard Station 72 for the new Hosts should they chose to use it, as well as their landing on Avera 9, open to all of the Hosts new and old. Consider it a check in before they’re again allowed to go back to their scrounging
For additional hatch information, see the previous hatch log. For general information on Avera 9, see this ooc post.))
jessica jones / castor brood / OTA.
Despite a rocky awakening, Jessica has managed to calm herself by the time she finally ventures out into Avera 9 to meet some other "hosts". After hiding at the back of the ship like a kid nervous about her first day at school, that is. Now that they're close, though, she can feel the pull, the sudden bursts of sound and sensation. She mostly expected the others to be like Cathaway, experienced and distant, so she's surprised to find how much emotion she's picking up.
For her part, Jessica is noisy with irritability and restlessness, especially when it's been who-knows-how-long since she last had a drink, the thirst in her wanting more than simple hydration. There's a finger or two still left in her hipflask, but she's saving it for when the shakes come on. Even if a kick of boozy warmth would be welcome right now, a miserable misty drizzle flattening her dark hair and trickling down the back of her scarf to run icy fingers down her spine. Gotta be a bar 'round here somewhere, right?
— SPACEPORT: MINTE'S PARLOR
And of course, there is. For those who don't or won't introduce themselves at arrival time, it's easy to run into Jessica knocking back some space-booze. She's bought a full bottle of the closest thing to whiskey she could find, and is drinking it neat, barely conceding to pour it into her glass between each hot, caramel mouthful.
Her constitution is such that this isn't really enough to get her drunk, which is probably good for everyone who has to share a brain with her. Her control is already awful: she's a violent cycle of bursts of feeling stomped down into diamond rage, paranoia and PTSD, recitations of lists of streets in a desperate attempt at self-mastery, and beyond anything else a kind of selfishness, that doesn't want to deal with anyone else's feelings even as her own are writ large.
Come say hi!
DAY 161
She feels the webbing of her brood keenly, and something that once had been missing now drew closer. It is something far beyond a duty to go greet the new member awakened.
Ilde is a slight girl of twenty in a mud-spattered uniform of charcoal grey. Her blonde hair is a frizzy wild mess from the rain, but even beneath it it is clear that she is pretty, with a rarely offered crooked smile. She approaches Jessica was a quiet kind of patience, aware of the pain that rattles around inside her at this moment, but politely ignoring it. ]
Hello, there.
no subject
Except she can't hide anything anymore.
Still. There's an unfamiliar side to the coin, a sensation she's only ever felt in painful, painful memories. Belonging. It terrifies her even as she longs for it. ]
Hi.
[ Flat, but not wary. She isn't self-aware enough to recognize that she'll always be warmer to bedraggled young blonde women, after Hope.
An awkward bite of silence. ]
This is all. Kinda fucked.
no subject
It is difficult to acclimate. There is no hurry.
[ In a way, the two who had awoken were lucky. They only had to hear each other's screaming thoughts, it had been quite overwhelming when the larger group had awoken as one... It had been so loud Ilde had truly thought she would lose her mind until Cathaway had helped to center her. ]
My name is Ilde.
no subject
[ Honestly, it's probably good they're using words. Jessica had barely taken notice of Petre, so wrapped up was she in her own trauma, but the sensation of anything alien in her mind is still unpleasant even if she knows by now that she's not being controlled. ]
You sure there's no hurry? Ma and pa seemed pretty eager to rush us down here.
no subject
Perhaps, but they cannot rush you into accepting the symbiote; the Hive.
no subject
[ A slight grimace, and she brings a pale hand up to tap at her temple, two fingers like a gun-mime. ]
You guys all in here. Gotta say, I'm not a fan.
no subject
It is quite distasteful, at first. But acceptance is... advisable.
[ They were brood, they would only come to know each other more deeply, bleed into each other day after day. Individuality could be maintained, to a degree, but to fight the symbiote's natural inclinations was only to fight oneself, at this point. ]
no subject
[ A lifted eyebrow, but no surprise. She'd signed herself up for whatever gets thrown her way, and all she can do is try and bat the curve balls. What other option was there? Let everyone die?
If the price of saving New York was her privacy, well. It's not like her mind isn't well used by now. And not one person here has tried to force their will over her, not even whatever she's sharing herself with now. ]
How long have you been...
[ A loose gesture, not yet up on all the terminology. ]
no subject
[ She kind of smiles. It's an expression that doesn't really suit her, she's a somber and severe girl. However, she is trying to express that she is not so very much more experienced than Jessica in this, only had a little more time and probably more inclination to accept the circumstances. ]
You will be alright with us.
MINTE'S PARLOR
The young man that comes over to sit next to her at the bar isn't much to look at, thin and short with faded dark circles under his eyes. The link between them is more remarkable - a clear, solid thing. Steve doesn't project anything as strong as her unshielded bursts of emotion. Instead, his end of their thread is more an anchor, one humming with curiosity.
"Anyone tell you to steer clear of Tari Town yet?"
She might notice a few alien heads turn their way, giving wary looks before going back to their own drinking.
no subject
Hypocritically, she itches to use the link, peer through it like a keyhole, break in and rifle through her broodmates' shit. Find out who she's had her lot thrown in with. What stops her isn't morality or self control, really. Not when she's never hesitated to get nosy for a job. It's the disgusting thought that Kilgrave would invade people's heads with that same sense of entitlement that has her reining in what she can control.
"Why?" she asks aloud instead, because she loves her some off-limits places, but she doesn't want to go picnic in Chernobyl or whatever.
no subject
"It's another trading town. We had trouble with a merchant and now they don't want us back there." He frowns at the aluminum can dropped in front of him by the bartender, both hands wrapping around it.
"If folks start looking at you funny, that's probably why." His mouth twists downward on one side. This 'crew' has become kind of infamous in the past few days. She ought to know what she's walking into, especially when a lot of the traders aren't looking too kindly on them.
A beat, and then he extends a hand in her direction. "I'm Steve, by the way."
Bringer of doom and gloom today, apparently.
no subject
Still. Not being into small talk and introductions doesn't mean she dislikes Steve, and she watches him with his drink for a beat. "So, Steve, I guess the next question is — what did you guys do?" Because getting into a haggler's fight doesn't seem like reason to be pilloried.
no subject
"Got into a fight." He shakes his head, not too keen on elaborating here. "The port's still open, even if they're less friendly here." Cold shouldering.