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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!))
pop an advil bro
When the new link appears, he can feel that same headache too, but not so pointed. He's been getting used to the continual pain of the link. He's trained long enough to know how to detach himself from pain just long enough to keep going.
Doesn't mean he's gotten far enough yet to not have to stop and catch his breath.]
You might want to take it easy before you throw up from all of that.
[Because he did the idiotic thing of getting into a fight hours after waking up and wow that truly was one of his stupider ideas.]
wow don't tell me what to do
The effort is minimal, almost absent from the lines of his mouth and brows. There's tension in his jaw, maybe, in his shoulders, but a man so desperate for control can never look fully relaxed. And his thoughts are anything but. ]
'This how you welcome all the new guys.
[ It's almost as though Hyperion expects anyone to be welcoming. #not ]
he told a king what to do HE'LL DEFINITELY TELL U
[One day someone is going to kill him for this kind of crap he pulls.]
I mean it. It's going to take some getting used to, but I'm passing on what was passed on to me. [He smirks now, despite the need for control growing and gnawing in his mind. Nyx can only mildly push back by being remaining calm and relaxed, almost a rope without slack compared to this stranger's tension.] Better welcome kit than a cake. I got into a fight two hours in, if that means anything.
HOW DARE
But if Nyx's day comes, Hyperion won't be delivering the blow. Ain't nobody got time for that. ]
It does. [ It means that people here are human, and at least some of them are willing to accept and be conflict, instead of pretending they're all supposed to get along. The more you deny that there's darkness, the larger the shadow becomes. ]
It means I've still got some time.
:')
[Time he really can't be affording to lose, not with the entire world at stake. There's not to much to argue about it, though, like he told Katie.
It is what it is. Nyx could only make the most of it and make sure everyone stayed in one piece to get back to their respective times and places.]
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[ Devil and idle hands, or however that goes. Doing nothing with time gives it time to catch up with you, and then what? ]
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[But he'd also rather be doing something else, too. Not because he's running away, because he just wants to keep busy and get places.]
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[ What... a pack of sunshine... ]
Is there any business here.
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[He's not sure what to make of that question...]
There's things to do, but we're on wait for the next mission if that's what you mean.
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[ Getting things in return for what he has to offer. Something that will give him leverage. ]
Doubt anyone here uses money. [ So give him something else. ]
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You'll be lucky to get more than a helpful word, less a trade. Don't go having too high expectations as someone who just showed up. As far as I can tell, everything's provided. If you mean something else? [Nyx shrugs.] You might want to get acquainted first before offering whatever it is you can do.
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[ Not just yet, anyway. That would be giving away too much, without first knowing whatever it is that people might want that the station can't give.
There's always something. He did just get here, it's true, and he's putting the cart in front of the horse, but his mind and his paranoia won't let him stop, and his symbiote won't stop from bleeding it all out. #sucksman ]
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He's pretty damn good at cutting through the bullshit. Wasn't there something about people putting words in his mouth constantly?]
Right.
[He's very obviously thinking about it, at least.
Nyx is definitely getting that paranoid bleed from the stranger, to which all he can rebuff is staying still and unwavering in his own mind, his own symbiote. So far, it's been the best way to keep himself from falling prey to erratic emotions.]
You got a name?
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The name slips from his head before it makes it to his tongue: ] Hyperion.
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[He'd offer a hand, but he suspects Hyperion isn't the hand-shaking type.]
You figure out who's in your brood or not yet?
[And if he doesn't know what a brood is yet, well. That's going to be a hell of a surprise for Hyperion. Weird enough to be mentally connected, add on top of that a particular set of people that you can't really block out...]
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There's a boy. Redhead.
[ Lanky, no trouble in communicating with the one man whose headache resonated with his the most. ]
Don't know about anyone else.
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[Which means it's really awesome timesharing your brain with four other people and one of them from your home.]
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Five. [ Why. ] How's that going for you.
[ Voice still tired, despite the ongoing effort to keep control, stand upright, and stay levelheaded. ]
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