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[hatch log] it reaches to the fence it wraps it rail by rail
CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :046
SUMMARY: New hatches . ..-and the promise of another.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
NEW HATCHES
YOU WAKE UP you are suddenly changed. No. That's not right. You're you and there's no suddenly about it. It's been a while, hasn't it? It feels like waking up from a very deep, extended sleep or like surfacing up from the darkness of the ocean. Right there in your own head there's something both familiar and strange and you know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye.
But here you are, a small miracle of the multiverse: lying in a small faintly hexagonal chamber, a gentle white light emanating from the surrounding walls. If you were injured during your escape, those injuries have been healed. If you were anxious or frightened or distraught, those feelings have been briefly calmed. There's something strangely peaceful about waking up here. That feeling persists even as you find the tube running from the base of your neck to the compartment's rear wall.
But once the tube's disconnected? Things get loud. A wave of emotion fills that peaceful void - fear, uncertainty, relief, a sense of purpose or loneliness or anxiety. A matching dread. An easy comfort. Maybe some of these emotions are yours, but they can't all be. After the initial sensory overload, the mental buzz elongates: stretches out into a murmur like the sound of a party happening behind a closed door.
You can sit up - barely -, and shift out of the pod. There’s a ladder at your feet and a little cubby just before it with anything you brought with you as well as a set of crisp, loose-fitting white clothes; while your injuries are healed, whatever you’re wearing is in the exact state it was before. Maybe it's time for a change? Drop down the ladder to the floor of the Nesting Deck and you’ll find you’re not alone. There's two of you and the closer you are to this stranger, the louder the sound in your head becomes. --Actually they're not quite strangers either, are they? Something is wound about and between the two of you. You know him and he knows you. He is as familiar as this place you've never been is.
Welcome to Station 72. The air buzzes with activity. Somewhere deep in the Station, other minds call to yours. They are bright, brilliantly celebratory spots in your subconscious. They are sun-warm gentle, or they are fire and the taste of ash, or they are a tangled garden, or they are a shadowed black wood, or they are the feeling of flight through dense cirrus clouds. No two links are exactly the same, but you know for certain that you are connected to all of them in at least some small way.
Maybe that's why the sensation of one of those links blooming into the shape of a thought in your head doesn't startle you:
AN ASSIGNMENT
THE VOICE UNFOLDING isn't really a voice at all. It's a series of shapes, an image of a path curving through the slate and white interior of the Station, of a warm stone and the steady ka-thud ka- thud
of something living. It's mottled light. The sensation of easy momentum, of walking at the edge of a field in summer in a place where the adjacent wood casts a long, cool shadow. It says:
( We have a task for anyone who has time to spare. )
Then Cathaway's mind folds up like a letter and slides back into the white noise murmur of the Station. However, anyone who goes looking to find her won't have a hard time. The Station seems to bend itself to make doing so quickly; familiar paths lead somewhere strange: Cathaway stands in a quiet chamber whose only feature is a case at the center. Inside the case is a large egg with a beetle shell iridescence - one of the many prizes stolen from the ABA!.
"It seems to do best when in the company of something alive. We'd like it if you and the others would spend some time with it." She withdraws her hand from the case and smiles cheerfully. "Think of it as an experiment."
((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new hosts as well as the catch-all for an optional mini-event. If your character wants to babysit an egg, please make a quick note of it over HERE for...reasons. Feel free to make your own logs and posts additional to this if you care to. You can find a more detailed overview of the host hatching process HERE. You can find additional setting information about the Station HERE. If you have any questions, please hit up either the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :046
SUMMARY: New hatches . ..-and the promise of another.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
YOU WAKE UP you are suddenly changed. No. That's not right. You're you and there's no suddenly about it. It's been a while, hasn't it? It feels like waking up from a very deep, extended sleep or like surfacing up from the darkness of the ocean. Right there in your own head there's something both familiar and strange and you know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye.
But here you are, a small miracle of the multiverse: lying in a small faintly hexagonal chamber, a gentle white light emanating from the surrounding walls. If you were injured during your escape, those injuries have been healed. If you were anxious or frightened or distraught, those feelings have been briefly calmed. There's something strangely peaceful about waking up here. That feeling persists even as you find the tube running from the base of your neck to the compartment's rear wall.
But once the tube's disconnected? Things get loud. A wave of emotion fills that peaceful void - fear, uncertainty, relief, a sense of purpose or loneliness or anxiety. A matching dread. An easy comfort. Maybe some of these emotions are yours, but they can't all be. After the initial sensory overload, the mental buzz elongates: stretches out into a murmur like the sound of a party happening behind a closed door.
You can sit up - barely -, and shift out of the pod. There’s a ladder at your feet and a little cubby just before it with anything you brought with you as well as a set of crisp, loose-fitting white clothes; while your injuries are healed, whatever you’re wearing is in the exact state it was before. Maybe it's time for a change? Drop down the ladder to the floor of the Nesting Deck and you’ll find you’re not alone. There's two of you and the closer you are to this stranger, the louder the sound in your head becomes. --Actually they're not quite strangers either, are they? Something is wound about and between the two of you. You know him and he knows you. He is as familiar as this place you've never been is.
Welcome to Station 72. The air buzzes with activity. Somewhere deep in the Station, other minds call to yours. They are bright, brilliantly celebratory spots in your subconscious. They are sun-warm gentle, or they are fire and the taste of ash, or they are a tangled garden, or they are a shadowed black wood, or they are the feeling of flight through dense cirrus clouds. No two links are exactly the same, but you know for certain that you are connected to all of them in at least some small way.
Maybe that's why the sensation of one of those links blooming into the shape of a thought in your head doesn't startle you:
THE VOICE UNFOLDING isn't really a voice at all. It's a series of shapes, an image of a path curving through the slate and white interior of the Station, of a warm stone and the steady ka-thud ka- thud
of something living. It's mottled light. The sensation of easy momentum, of walking at the edge of a field in summer in a place where the adjacent wood casts a long, cool shadow. It says:
Then Cathaway's mind folds up like a letter and slides back into the white noise murmur of the Station. However, anyone who goes looking to find her won't have a hard time. The Station seems to bend itself to make doing so quickly; familiar paths lead somewhere strange: Cathaway stands in a quiet chamber whose only feature is a case at the center. Inside the case is a large egg with a beetle shell iridescence - one of the many prizes stolen from the ABA!.
"It seems to do best when in the company of something alive. We'd like it if you and the others would spend some time with it." She withdraws her hand from the case and smiles cheerfully. "Think of it as an experiment."
((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new hosts as well as the catch-all for an optional mini-event. If your character wants to babysit an egg, please make a quick note of it over HERE for...reasons. Feel free to make your own logs and posts additional to this if you care to. You can find a more detailed overview of the host hatching process HERE. You can find additional setting information about the Station HERE. If you have any questions, please hit up either the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))
sup hatch bro
( Who are you supposed to be? )
[ Simultaneously: ]
Who are you supposed to be?
[ Seems the question across the link was more instinctive than anything. A bad case of a loud mind. At least he says what he's thinking? ]
brooding like hell, bro
The feelings are mutual. The boy feels familiar, too close, and it's puzzling him. Above all, it's bothering him. This is nothing but the beginning of a downward spiral, and there's nothing to grab onto. ]
You already know.
[ Hyperion, the name that involuntarily rises in his thoughts. They're in the same brood, that must be obvious. There's not much else, though. ]
Where did you come from.
know the feeling bro
This is way too weird.
[ He shifts his weight, annoyed, uncomfortable, and confused. He's not denying what's happening. After being rescued from that ... that grey, faceless, oozing thing, he's willing to be open-minded. He just doesn't understand it.
[ After a pause, he gestures toward the hole wherein he woke. ]
Right up there. I woke up a few minutes ago.
[ Before that? The thoughts are easy enough to grasp. Cherry blossoms, expensive tea, a prestigious high school. Japan. Ouran. ]
no subject
Mm.
[ Incredibly vocal, this one (#not). He'll be sure to make up for it with all the processes meant to defend his mind unsuccessfully. Psychics were any person's worst nightmare, gifted or not, and Hyperion's just walked into a ship filled with them, him included. There's barely any comfort to take from that, but it's an opportunity to fight back.
(Japan. Prestigious high school, tea, cherry blossoms. A festival? He doesn't look Japanese. Wrong eye color, wrong hair color, provided it's natural.
It's a long way from the dark alleys Hyperion's used to. Living in the night, walking among people who consume his illegally tampered blood as one of the rarest drugs in existence.) ]
How did it happen.
[ The end of the world. ]
no subject
[ Does he have to ask...? Dark alleys; stalking the night; blood. So much blood. Hikaru shakes his head, takes a half-step back. The end of the world. It should be completely alien. It's nothing like anything he's experienced. But it's true, it's real, just as real as Hyperion himself, and Hikaru can't deny its existence. ]
I don't know what you're talking about.
[ No. That's not right. He rephrases. ]
None of that happened. [ Still not true. ] To me.
no subject
The inevitable result is the sense that it isn't fair. That is should happen to Hyperion the way it did, and that he should be alone for it. Even when he's tethered to another being's head, he's alienated.
That will be a comfort soon enough. It's safer. ]
Why are you here, then. Why did you say yes.
no subject
[ Grey, faceless, humanoid — but wrong, so wrong. Heart pounding, slamming against a chain link fence, pulling himself over, something cold and wet slithering around his ankle.... He'd looked back after hitting the ground — blood on his palms, but his palms are fine now, what happened? — and watched in terror as the thing began oozing through the fence....
[ He shakes his head, as though the movement can banish his memories. ]
I couldn't get away from it. This little girl showed up, and I followed her.
no subject
No one can get away from it. That's the point.
She here?
no subject
[ She saved him, after all. And he hopes she is. He wants to thank her. And he has questions for her. So, so many questions. ]
But you're the first person I've seen.
[ There are others; he's sure of it. He can't dismiss the many connections pricking at the edges of his mind. None are quite like Hyperion, who shines like a beacon through the fog. He wonders why. ]
She definitely got away too, though. [ "Definitely," he says, but can he be sure? ] Maybe she's still sleeping?
[ He looks up at the little hole in the wall that he crawled out of. It's one of countless. She could be in any of them. ]
no subject
[ He doesn't know. The greater part of him doesn't want to, even if the rational - paranoid - portion that's left keeps telling him he needs to absorb as much information as he can. Valuable information, whatever keeps him breathing now that he's plunged into a brand new start. ]
Might be in your head.
[ In the same way they're in each other's. If she's here, Hikaru's symbiote should inevitably alert him to the fact. That much is already filed up in Hyperion's mental notebook. ]