[hatch log] pull plug, enter multiverse

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: DAY :025 - :026
SUMMARY: Somewhere deep in Station 72, a hatch happens; new hosts arrive on Concordia.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

YOU WAKE UP and in a very real sense you are born again. You’re not the same person you were the last time your eyes were open. You’ll never be that person again - well, except for you, Jessica Jones. You know how this part goes, don’t you?

You might not know it right away, though. What you do know is that you’re laying down in a place very different than you were before. The walls angle around you, claustrophobic, and they emit a gentle white light that’s faint enough not to hurt your freshly opened eyes. For a moment you feel fine even if you didn’t before you went under. Whatever injuries you might have had, whatever agony you may have been experiencing, whatever fear dogged your heels, they’re all gone. It’s quiet. When you’re conscious enough to take stock of anything beyond that, you realize that you’re wearing your own clothes and that there’s a faint pinch at the base of your skull - notable as the only discomfort you feel. Reach up, feel along the tube running from the base of your neck to the compartment’s back wall. It pulls free without much fuss.

Then it’s not so quiet anymore. There’s the sensation of something more, something louder, something both big and broad and something intimately near to you. There’s the realization that you aren’t alone, that you won’t ever be alone again. You belong here. This is as correct as the murmur of something like muffled voices in the back of your head is somehow familiar, or how the press of emotion that sweeps over you now doesn’t necessarily belong to you but doesn’t feel out of place either.

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. You can hear a sound in the back of your head, a faint buzzing, something like distant waves or the murmur of a party behind a door. Drop down the ladder to the floor of the Nesting Deck and you’ll find you’re not alone - and the those sounds in your head are louder. Other people’s thoughts swim up: some of them seem clear, most of them are a jumbled mess. Some of these people call to you - their voices are louder, their feelings more clear, they feel right. Further, there’s an awareness that there are others like you - not here, not close, but somewhere: an indelible tug at the back of your mind.

Welcome to Station 72. All new hosts will have one day aboard the Station before being whisked off to Concordia to join the others. Get to know the other new hosts, and ask the guardians of the Station - Prince and Cathaway -, any burning questions you might have. By the time the day has passed, Carata will arrive on the hangar to collect you.



MEANWHILE IN CONCORDIA Angel slips into a coma on :025 at almost at the exact same time that some Hosts become aware of missing pieces fitting into place. Those hosts with new brood members waking up on the station will feel somewhere more complete; you might want to let everyone know you’ll be getting new roommates soon.

Everyone might be putting themselves and their broods back together in the wake of the explosion that left the nest down one host and injected everyone with renewed motivation to either find the people responsible or make sure nothing like what happened at Royal Street ever happens again. Things are progressing on multiple fronts, but on DAY 26 there’s an option to put some of those efforts on the back burner...

     ON THE STATION, the new hosts are herded onto a sleek, black brick-shaped transport. Carata, a woman young enough to almost be called a girl, carefully makes sure everyone is seated and strapped in. She’s all gentle, easy smiles and cheerful responses to any questions posed to her. When everyone’s safely aboard, the ship’s landing platform descends through the floor of the hangar. It snaps into place in the airlock and for a moment there’s a beat of perfect stillness, a shiver of anticipation. Then the transport is flung through the shaft, ejected into the wild black of space. There’s a nauseating lurch in your belly as it bursts through the delicate shell of the multiverse and snaps into real space above the blue and yellow marble of the planet Opia. Somewhere, thousands of miles below in the city of Concordia, your brood is waiting for you.

     IN CONCORDIA
IN CONCORDIA, as dark falls, Nirad announces he’s going to fetch Carata and the new hosts from their landing. Anyone’s welcome to accompany him on the hour long drive to the stealth transport’s landing zone. The rented bus - manned by that same (now very stoic) android - takes everyone to the outskirts of the industrial block. They arrive at a different parking garage just as the stealth transport drops out of the sky, shivering into sight as it touches down. The hosts on the ship step down and then the stealth transport lifts back off the rooftop and wrinkles out of sight. It’s unclear how many more time they’ll be able to get away with this.

Get your meet and greets in and stretch your legs; you have a few minutes before everyone piles into the van and takes the long drive back to the Bearings Apartment block where the hosts have rented out the entirely of Level 13. New hosts will find there are rooms there that as of yet unclaimed, and they’re free to begin making this their home in whatever ways they please. Get familiar with your new comrades, explore the city, or maybe just take a well deserved breather. Officially speaking, nothing much happens until--

     EARLY ON DAY 27

A NEW WINDOW POPS UP IN YOUR EXTRANET PANEL...

---

((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new and recently returning hosts; any threads on the Station should be closed to newly awakened hosts or Station-based NPCs; a top level for Cathaway and Prince will be going live shortly. Any threads on Concordia can be open to both new and old hosts! For anything happening beyond these calendar dates, feel free to create your own logs and posts.

If you have questions about the mission specifically, direct them to the most recent calendar post HERE. You can find a more detailed overview of the hatching process HERE; you might also want to take a glance at the MISSION CONCORDIA BRIEFING. For all other questions, please hit up either the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages.))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[greentech]

Day 25 - Good morning, campers!

[ Pidge wakes with a gasp, hands shooting up to imitate the outstretched gesture that she'd just been in. Or that she thought she'd just been in. She blinks in the dim light, fingers running over the walls of the pod as she tries to take in her new surroundings. What just happened? She could've sworn she was just in her lion. When had she had time to end up here? Maybe one of those alien ships had hit her, but this still didn't make any sense. This didn't look like Altean technology either, so she has very slim hopes that she's been picked up by the castle.

Of course, the fact that there's a tube running into her is a bit freaky. There's a feeling of trepidation as she runs her fingers in under her hair and finds it. What was going on? She gives it a tug, wincing slightly as it pulls free. That's when the noise hits her (she can't think of a better way to describe it). A chorus that's not quite clear, a sense that reminds her a bit of her lion, but is so much bigger and broader. Pidge shudders and tries to get a handle on the sweep of emotions that run through her and she clamps down on it. She has to think. She has to figure out where she is, what's going on, find her lion, and then hopefully get out of here and find the others.

She sits up, levering herself out of the pod and finds the ladder.

Polite of them.

She drops to the floor, relieved to find that her computer, helmet, and civilian clothing have all apparently arrived with her. Plus a set of some weird white clothes.

This feels like a cult. Am I in a cult? Maybe it's some weird space religion-

Of course, there's that tug that pulls at her mind and urges her to keep moving. That's far too familiar, far closer to what it was like when she was out looking for the lion, but here she's not sure what it's trying to tug her towards. Thankfully, she's not alone. She glances up as she hears someone else shift and drop out of their pod. ]

Hey! Where are we?


Day 25 - Starting over again

[Katie's tucked into an out of the way corner on the recreation deck, bag tucked over one shoulder and trying to take in the entire expanse of technology and new and exciting things around her. It helps keep her distracted from the fact that she's apparently been drafted (again) and now she's going to save the galaxy (in a different way). Everything is sleek and futuristic and different and definitely not Altean or human or anything that she's familiar with. It's way more like some sort of insect colony, honestly, and that's more than a little weird. She's trying to clear her head and get her thoughts in order (and at the back of her mind, there's always that murmur and ebb and flow, like some sort of distant ocean surf)so she's on the recreation deck, equipment in hand, and busily trying to take apart a few pieces of technology of varying tech levels.

Parts are scattered around her in a slightly haphazard manner and she's cross-legged, concentrating on trying to get the power source disconnected from a hand-held, holographic gaming device of some sort. Her tool slips and the part goes bouncing across the floor, rolling away from her as it pops out of her grasp. She makes a noise of exasperation - loud enough to be heard. It's entirely possible she doesn't expect anyone else to be around, considering the small number of people who 'hatched' with her. ]

Come on, you stupid-!

[ She starts to clamber to her feet to go retrieve it. ]


Day 26 - Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life

[ The ride down had been mostly uneventful and Pidge had managed to avoid losing her lunch (hey, she's survived Lance's piloting, after all). Once they're on the ground, she's down the ramp and onto the parking garage. Wow, this looked almost familiar. Not out of place from a city back home, honestly, if also still pretty darn alien. There's a rush of air from behind her as the transport lifts off and she glances up in time to watch it shimmer and vanish back into the night sky. Huh. Pidge adjusts her glasses with a little frown and asks, to no one in particular. ]

How do you think it does that?

[ She feels closer to.. .something. Her brood, apparently (she'd rather be a paladin, honestly). They're closer then they were on the ship and that reassures her, oddly enough. She has to pause and reconsider that. How much of that is her and how much of that is the symbiote they stuck in her head? And - oh, new people. Looks like the welcoming committee. She lifts her hand in a slightly awkward wave. This is all moving way too fast. ]


Day 26 - Home away from home

[ Pidge is so over long car or shuttle rides by now. She just wnats to find a bed and fall into it so she can keep trying to process what's going on around her. What's happening to her. She's looking for an unoccupied room, a bit bleary-eyed, and her methodology is fairly simple - knock on a door or ask someone who looks like they've been here longer than she has. ]

Excuse me - do you know where the unoccupied rooms are?

[ Forgive her if she interrupts something. ]

25

[tropism]

[ he'll be grabbing the tool that slipped from her hands. giorno eyes the ... mess ... that's on her table, not entirely sure what she's trying to do with it. ]

What are you doing?

[ giorno is still holding onto her tool, and if she tries to take it from him, she'll find that he's going to be annoying and make it difficult for her, because he can be a child. ]

26 - home away from home

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Waking up yesterday and feeling like suddenly everything was right with the world - or at least, feeling a hell of a lot less empty than he had since he'd got here - yeah, it was a trip and a half. Sam knows that the world doesn't work that way, knows that it's the symbiote's doing, but knowing that doesn't change the way it makes him feel.

It'd helped a little that he'd had Clint right there, that Clint's going through the same thing and it's throwing him off in a pretty similar way. Sam's not sure what it says that it's become all but automatic for them to reach out to each other when shit's going down, but that... well, that at least stems from before they came here, and Sam can pretend it doesn't have anything to do with the symbiote and their mental link.

He can almost believe it, too.

When they drop of the new Hosts, it's the same as the last time - Sam feels a pull towards them, the two that are Bellatrix in particular.

He flashes a smile at her, even though he can feel that low level sense of exhaustion, and he has to resist the urge to offer her his hand. He knows how his symbiote ability will react. Instead he tilts his head down the hall, starting towards the empty beds. ]

Yeah, sister, I got you. It's a lot, all of this.

home away from home!

[whowhatnow]

[The young man who answers the door seems the opposite of exhausted - there's a big smile on his face, his posture filled with a certain kind of casualness that really seems odd compared to some of the seriousness of the other broodmates.]

Unoccupied rooms? [He strokes his chin.] Uh...I think there's one down the hall...

[Hmm. He doesn't really remember.] I can try to show you, if you want? I need to get more familiar with this place, anyways...

26

[frakkincylons]

[ there's some thudding at the lower, right corner of the door, as a small android on the other side makes lame attempts to open it at the knock, and some murmured fussing, as Sam picks Daniel up and scoots him along, before he can zip it open.

oh. hi there. ]

Yeah, um. I think the two in the northwest corner and still free. [ a point, directing her to those doors, and he glances back to her, towering at 6'3", as the little droid runs into his ankles a couple times. ] You're one of the new kids, right? I'm Sam. Or Anders, as we kinda have an overstock on Sams right now.

[headinjuries]

day 26;
[ Sam's still not used to it - the dichotomy between what he feels and what he thinks he should be feeling. There's this sense of being complete, that things are more right, that he didn't have yesterday - but there's no intellectual reason to feel that great about people he hasn't even met yet.

So he's trying not to think too hard about that, and instead to think about something nice and bland and perfectly safe.

Like not burning the kitchen down while he tries to figure out something to eat, because he's not really in the mood to make the trek out to find something and he's also developing an increasing cynicism about Concordians and their taste in condiments (is there a single normal sauce that comes with anything he's ever picked up from one of the restaurants or food stalls here?).

But when he hears (or maybe just feels?) someone in the doorway, he fumbles the carton of eggs he's pulling out of the fridge and loses three of them to the floor.

Wow. Great first impression, Sam? ]

Uh. Hi.


day 27, before the mysteeeeerious message pops up;
[ Watching more news is probably one of the most harmless lifestyle adjustments Sam's made since he started up the superhero gig, but it still gets kind of boring sometimes. Sadly, getting by on the Daily Show isn't quite enough when you need to know what's going on and what horrible threats to life as we know it might be hanging around waiting for someone to punch them in the face, so he's gotten into the habit of following the news, and he knows better than to think that he's off the hook here.

But God, most of this stuff is either really boring (oh boy! private security firms are doing better business! who cares) or it's just more uncomfortable reminders of what went down at the Royal Street Parlor, which is another big, underlined entry on the list of Things Sam Would Like To Be Able To Stop Thinking About For Like Just Five Minutes, Come On Brain.

And then he pauses as he's scrolling through the news feed, over something about a candlelight vigil for the victims of the bombing, because...hey. Don't important people love to show up at stuff like that and make sad faces and show that they're ~connected to the people~? ]

Hey, did you see this thing in the news?

[ If you're also sitting in the common room, he's probably talking to you. ]

26

[greentech]

[ Food. Food sounds amazing right now. Especially real food. No offense to Allura, but she could use something that wasn't green goo. She pauses in the doorway with a blink, adjusting her glasses slightly and she can feel the boy in front of her. There's so much running through her head all of a sudden and it's all stupidly loud. Pidge winces slightly. Not really because of the eggs, more because - well. This is sudden. She's face-to-face with someone and he - it - feels right, somehow.

Weird. ]

Uh - hi.

[ That's all she can think of to say at first. ]

You look like you could use some help.

27

[tropism]

I did.

[ the candlelight vigil is interesting to giorno, if only because it's a great way to step into something big that's happened before he was there. more opportunities to watch and observe, see how things have been going. the things that he's read in the feed are interesting, and judging by the general mood of the hosts, something terrible has happened just recently, on a personal level. ]

It seems like a good place to be. Are you going?

26

[inflori]

[ Incredible. People around here just want to destroy the kitchen, don't they? And Petre likes all the destruction, too - in general. Just not where there are things to eat, gorsh.

He stares down at the eggs. Then at Sam. ]

Are you okay.

Day 27

[batmotif]

[Bruce is not so much sitting in the common room as he is standing, leaning against its entrance, arms crossed against his chest. Sitting, he's realized, lends itself to a sort of nervous energy he could do without -- whether it's due to the sudden shift of circumstances, finding himself in the midst of space, or the fact that it's difficult not to borrow the apprehension of others via his mental link, is up for debate. Likely both.

Though he can certainly see the news feed from where he stands, the only real thing keeping him planted in the common room for now. It's amazing what parallels the news here has with that of home, to the point where it's a bit surreal. When the mention of a candlelight vigil flickers onto the screen, Bruce frowns. He had heard of the bombings, of course; even only being here for a handful of days didn't discourage him from doing the most cursory of research into everyone's current situation.

When the kid in the room turns to him and asks if he's seen the news, Bruce speaks for the first time since entering the common room. There's a clear tinge of concern in his tone, though the rest of him is harder to read; like a man keeping up a mental wall to the best of his ability.]

I did. Were you there when it happened?

[So much for keeping Sam's mind off of things he'd rather not think about.]

27

[erbier]

[ She looks over when he speaks, resting her temple against the curl of her hand. She looks... confused for a moment, but it passes quickly. She understands that people in other worlds care more for their dead, by this point. In her own world, however, death was far too everyday to bother with the vigils and the carefully tended grave sites. ]

Would you like to attend?

26.

[deployed]

Hi.

[ There's egg on the floor. Bellamy can't stave off a moment of anxiety over it. A lifetime of rations topped off by dwindling supplies as his people ate through their supplies on the ground made wasting food, even accidentally, feel like a grievous offense. He has to remind himself that there's more than enough here. There's a whole city with seemingly limitless quantities of food within walking distance. The loss of a few eggs is nothing, in the grand scheme of things.

It doesn't feel like nothing, but Bellamy can weather the moment of concern. He crosses the room to dig out a dishrag instead. ]

I'll clean this if you make enough eggs to split.

[ Is Bellamy also ignoring the new presences sparking in the back of his head? Yes. This is a welcome distraction compared to new and unfamiliar (yet weirdly fulfilling) connections stirring amid the web of their nest. ]

[shiro2hero]

[25 - GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE]
[Whatever he expected, this wasn't it. This looks too calm. This is too collected. He remembers agreeing, he remembers the others' faces, and they're so clear -- but there's no memory of being brought here. That's frightening. But also something to delve into once he has his bearings. Sweep it under the rug, deal with it later--]

[It would have worked, if not for the tube.]

[That sensation -- that feeling of something, someone, doing something without your knowledge, it speaks in whispers of things he can't grasp. And it sends the fear of before crashing back to the forefront. Even while the rational parts of him are yelling that it's too white to be Galra, and too sterile to be Altean. This isn't something he's seen before, and yet he reacts the same.]

[... By pretty much vaulting out of the space. Like it's burned him. Metal fingers grasp onto the top ladder rung at the last moment, and leaves him... dangling. Well. That was great. At least no one was here to see it.]

[He could just climb down, but no, he drops to the floor. Still in his armor. Like it's going to help anything. Like it's going to somehow block out the sense of... others. And while his feet move without checking in with the rest of him, his brain is screaming again.]

[What did they do to him this time?]

[When he gets to the door, starts to open it, not even the brave face completely remains. Despite the feelings, it's fight or flight mode in his head, his hand curling automatically into something aggressive.]

[Have fun, gang.]


[25 - TRANSPORT]
[It feels like the closer the people get, the harder it is to close off whatever it is ... connecting them. And in a transport, space is hard to come by.]

[So. Time to find a relatively unoccupied corner, settle in and try and focus on literally anything else. The feel of flight, maybe. Breathing, probably. Trying not to think of the others right now. That part is almost impossible, and their faces are once more flooding his thoughts. Are they safe? Are they aware something's happened? Is Allura still in enemy hands? Who's going to fly the Black now? Wh--]

It's the only way. [He says it through his fingers, hand pressed to his face while struggling for something like calm. Like he should be.] The only way.


[25 - 27 ARRIVAL]
[Claim your rooms. Find where he's supposed to be. Make a new home. Weird enough when you were trying to get used to living on a castle that doubled as a space cruiser. Only to have to do it again...]

[This time there's no kind face and overeager voice to direct them. Direct him, more like. It feels uncomfortably like he's left to twist in the wind. And damn if he doesn't operate better with some vague direction.]

[He's got nothing but the armor on his body, and while the helmet is now under one arm, he feels weirdly under-prepared. Like everyone else had actual belongings. But, really, what would he bring with him? The Black Lion didn't exactly come in a travel-size.]

[For the moment, stretching his legs sounds... good. Getting some distance sounds good. Maybe there's a roof. The sensation of other thoughts and feelings still crawls around under his skin too much. Bad enough when it was memories. When it's thoughts and voices and emotions and images and -- ]

... Find your room. Okay. [If no one's here to direct him, guess he'll have to do it himself. Be the leader.]

[He's probably wandering the halls when you find him. With a goal in mind, focusing is easier. So here he goes.]


[WILDCARD]
[Run into him in the apartments or anything else I didn't list out!]

25

[greentech]

[ There's fear pounding away in her head, drumming at the edges of her consciousness and Pidge winces, putting a hand to her head. She's just clambered out of her own pod and she's barely had a shot to get her bearings, but there's a burst of movement and a familiar face and she dashes after Shiro with a yell. ]

Shiro-!

[ Relief. Relief and a hint of fear, because if they have him and her, where's everyone else? There's a chance, right? Hopefully her familiar face and armor mean he's not about to take a swing at her. ]

Shiro, hold on!

025 - arrival;

[narcissithstic]

[Freshly returned from the doctor's office (at the urging of his newly invested Concordian employer, however unecessary), hair drawn back, left arm wrapped tightly in a sling, there's a bone-deep exhaustion clinging to Ren's bones, apathy settling deep.

And yet not enough that his senses are blind to the presence of someone else.]

That's a dead end. [The far end of the hall leads down towards a standard stairwell and maintenance storage, and in spite of Shiro's high chin and dedicated stride, unless he's in search of a few standard tools— which the telltale pull of a fellow symbiotic host would indicate otherwise— Ren isn't certain he knows what exactly he's after.]

find your room......... if you can

[inflori]

[ New arrivals! Petre might actually be more excited (read: creepy) if he didn't have the grudge of his broodmate going to sleep on that very day, again. That's what makes him watch Shiro without engaging, a bag of alien, edible seeds in his hand. Once it's clear the guy can't make his way to his room - that's when he moves in.

He could speak up. Offer help, ask if he's all right. Introduce himself, even.

Instead he throws a seed at the back of his head. ]

25; transport

[batmotif]

[Shiro might be trying to find refuge in the corner of the transport, but space means very little in the wake the newfound mental connection of broodmates, as deep and unsettling as it may be. Bruce is trying to stay focused, to quiet his mind and the thoughts and sensation that threaten to penetrate his concentration at all sides. His success so far has been mediocre at best, and when Shiro moves to clear his head of trepidation, Bruce feels nothing but. As if what he is pushing away is rolling across to him, like waves on a shoreline, faces and experiences he doesn't recognize.

It's the last thing he needs; and though it's difficult to rebuke a man who is clearly trying his best to keep his mind under control, Bruce has to say something. Shiro will probably feel a flare of the presence of Bruce (if he hasn't been already) when the man speaks up. He's trying to radiate focus and control, though the foundations are shakier than usual.]

What's the only way?

[Conversation, maybe, might take his mind off of what plagues him.]

putting this... where it belongs

[unsea]

[ There have been a number of awakenings, far away from here - but not far enough. Never far enough. Were he aware of the word "radar", the connection between the nest (the closer connection between brood) might be compared to a psychic sort of... radar. A few of the newly awoken are -- for lack of better term, they're his.

( So, the new addition to the nest, the one stiffly looking for a measure of solitude in a space that will never again be quiet? That one is doubly his. He's a new addition to the unique... note shared among the tune between himself, Clint and Bellamy. ) ]

It's all right, we've all been there. New to the noise.

[ His room is -- down the hall, from where Shiro is looking for an empty space for himself. It's from that doorway he's stepped. Fresh bandages, yellowing bruises. Regardless, he's painstakingly polite about introductions. Comes right up to the new addition and his armor, his helmet. The inner turmoil, oh - they've all been there. Some are still there, to be fair. ]

arrival!

[sizeofyourbaggage]

There is a roof.

[ It’s out before he can help it, and Sam makes a little face at himself. With Barnes and Parker in his brood, and sharing a room with Clint, it’s not like he isn’t more than aware of the fact that there are people who react very badly to the whole mind link thing, even accidental uses.

Hell, Sam himself isn’t all that keen on it, for all that it’s been kind of useful when he’s trying to offer a hand. It’s about privacy, about the things that people want to share and the things they don’t, and Sam has always been real big on not pushing someone before they’re ready. Kind of hard to do that when everyone here is in each other’s heads to one level or another.

He doesn’t say any of that, but he does let it bleed through the mental link a little - the feeling that he knows he messed up, and he’s sorry for it. ]

Sorry, man. I’m still getting the hang of all of this. The roof thing - well, I go up there when it gets a little too much.

26.

[deployed]

That's mine, [ Bellamy says, blunter than he means to be. ] That's the room I've been staying in.

[ It's a little surprising, realizing how he's come to regard that room as his own. Having settled in to such an extent as never in the cards. It feels like a betrayal, as if he's accepted his presence here in spite of himself. It's jarring, and it doesn't do much for his overall demeanor even as he attempts to soften his initial statement.

This moment is a little ridiculous as it is. Bellamy is somehow unprepared for it. He has a plate of eggs and a yellow-paged paperback tucked under his arm, and he can feel the insistent pull of connection between them. Just like with the Darkling, just like with Clint, that new-formed instinct has identified Shiro as part of him. Recoiling from that sense feels as futile as ever, but Bellamy does anyway, trying to reel his thoughts back, keep them to himself. ]

You can pick any of the empty ones. There's some left.

[ Who let Bellamy be in charge of the welcome wagon? This has never really been his strong point. ]

[tropism]

DAY 25

THE HATCH.

[ after the quiet, giorno has to make sure to himself that he isn't quite dead. somehow he's not in venice anymore and he can't find mista. dread forces him to be quiet, to be antsy, looking around his surroundings with a face that's pale and a sense of forced calm that keeps his jaw shut and teeth grinding as he observes and listens around the room. he tries to take even breaths. it is not enough, for a minute, and even then there are voices presses against his head that it's rather annoying, until giorno ends up snapping, in exasperation - ]

Be quiet.

[ but it's more for him than it is to anyone else.

giorno massages his forehead, trying to get his bearings again. apparently that doesn't work to the other voices, only sheer willpower does. he's reluctant to come down from his pod, and it takes him a while, mostly watching the others to see if anything else will happen once they come out of the pod. when nothing else does, giorno steps down carefully. but when he does, gold experience flits right behind him, like a shadow. he isn't aware that it can be seen. it's humming with a frantic, nervous energy that giorno is trying to keep under lock and key, never too far from wherever it is that he's moving from, ghost-like in a golden light.

giorno is staring at everything and everyone with wide, blue eyes, fear and surprise and anticipation as he takes in the surroundings and how real everything is. he purses his lips. his throat feels dry the way it does when one just has a long sleep, and the first time he tries to talk his voice cracks embarrassingly, so he tries again. no-one heard that. ]

Is there coffee? I need one, before anything else.



THE GARDEN

[ he's here because he's feeling restless. there's only so many games and books one can play and read until one gets bored, and giorno makes his way to the gardens, merely out of curiousity for whatever it is that they keep in here.

the other reason is more out of anxiety than anything. at a corner of the garden, giorno takes one of the ladybug pins from his coat, and passes his hands over it, until it turns into a spider, its legs delicately crawling around his wrist. another flick of his hand, and the spider seems to fold itself back into the solid form of the pin. it happens in a minute or so. ]

Oh, excellent.



TRANSPORT

[ barely anything in concordia is familiar to giorno, and he can't help but stare at the buildings, at the .... citizens of the city. in fact, if no-one's keeping track of him, he's probably going to be left behind as he's too busy staring at everything in wonder. it's probably rude of him to gawk at cybernetic attachments, but that's what he's doing anyway. he's seen some fairly crazy things in his short life, but there aren't any robots in venezia, and one expects Stands, by law of nature, to be ridiculous anyway.

he looks like a kid in a candy store, in other words. he wants to touch and prod and see what will happen if gold experience touches these synthetic hybrids. what does life mean here? he's read the briefing, and giorno sympathizes with the humans and their struggle, but even so, what's been achieved by the advancements in AI tech is so amazing to him that giorno can't help but admire them. when he talks his voice is more animated, and fast. ]

Have you seen that movie? With the bullets, and the guys in the trenchcoats? That's what this reminds me of.

DAY 26 - CONCORDIA.

KITCHEN.

[ he's going to ask whomever's in the kitchen at the moment. giorno's super excited about something, and he's trying not to get ahead of himself. once he gets hold of you, he'll ask - ]

Do you wanna go to the menagerie with me? Or the drag strip? Or Platform 12? [ a pause. ] Only if you're not too busy.

[ please go out with him ]

DAY ??? - WILDCARD

ANYWHERE, JUST SPECIFY IN TAG

[ hit me up with anything else! ]

DAY 26

[decommission]

[ The current kitchen inhabitant is a young man of short stature, fading bruises and a black eye coloring one side of his face (you should see the other guy would be his go to joke). He's got a cup of coffee-like liquid in his hand as he turns, broken from his distant thoughts and his morning check of the extranet to cock his head slightly to one side. ]

Huh - [ Brow furrows, then smooths. The hand that had been tracking over the invisible interface connected to his earpiece lowers. This must be - ] Uh, yeah - I can show you around. [ His shoulders straighten. ] I'm Steve.

[ He offers a hand. ]

[batmotif]

DAY 26; TRANSPORT

[When the ship lurches forward, ejecting itself into the vastness of space itself, Bruce barely reacts, the only sign of acknowledgement coming from the way his fingers grip around his knees, ever so faintly. He should be impressed, even begrudgingly, at the sight of the planet hovering below them, but his focus lies elsewhere, too caught up in the sensations, thoughts, and emotions that aren't his to bother.

He hates the connection; it's far too personal for his liking, dancing on the edge of spilled secrets and private memories. Even more, he hates that there's a distant part of his mind that tells him that it feels right, like he's a piece of a puzzle that snaps perfectly into place -- a smaller part of a whole.

He closes his eyes, trying to push that feeling from his mind, trying to remember how he... was, before the ridiculous notion of a multiverse came into play. He would have to cling to that memory, that piece of him who knew what it was like to be unconnected to complete strangers, else this new part of him that welcomed the change might become more comfortable than he'd prefer.

And so Bruce is quiet and intensely sorting out his own thoughts, trying to push away the rest. He doesn't want to borrow the nervousness of others around him, nor does he want their trepidation. Thus, anyone who happens to be projecting onto him will feel their own emotions pushed back in their metaphorical faces, more prominent than before. It probably isn't the most pleasant feeling, but that's not his concern right now.]

DAY 26; SETTLING IN

[Bruce's state of mind has barely changed, a futile, stubborn sort of denial of the bombardment of connections that are new and unwanted, trying to build up a mental wall to keep it all out. His mileage varies, of course, with an inconsistency that becomes frustrating, and being frustrated is really the last thing he needs, the arch-nemesis of focus itself.

Even so, Bruce is only human. A very stubborn human, but human nonetheless. He can't deny the innate connection he feels to what he assumes are his "broodmates". Without even trying, he can feel the push and pull of their minds, like a spider tugging on its web. This, he's learning, is easily the most difficult mental invasion to shove away, and all his attempts so far have been an exercise in futility.

He had found his room in record time (or rather, took the first unoccupied one he could find on Level 13) and put away his things just as quickly. He had no intention of staying however, leaving mere minutes after settling in, making his way down the hall to find the nearest set of stairs leading to the roof. He had to clear his head, to focus, to regroup. He had to make sense of everything that was happening to him, and some naive part of him thought that if he could physical space between himself and these other "hosts", then perhaps peace of mind would be easier to achieve.

So if he brushes past you, without even a hint of acknowledgement, don't be offended. Or hell, be offended. It's unlikely he'll care either way.]

26 - transport

[tropism]

Your face will get stuck like that, you know.

[ it's a softly murmured tease, one that comes after giorno realizes that someone's pushing against him. he's been trying to follow the line of emotions, connections, here and there, just to see where it leads him, though he's not pushing any further if he finds even the slightest bit of resistance. the point was to get used to the voices and to the way he's linked to everyone simultaneously, and not to be any more invasive than necessary. ]

[sensitively]

:025 - Awakening, in the Station:

[ When she comes to, it's with a sudden, jerking movement and a shout from her lips — Rey's hands are still reaching, clutching for her injured companion she'd been holding on Starkiller before the entire planet base destroyed itself from the inside out and before the strange ships had demolished everything else on its surface — ] — Finn? Finn!

[ — but there's nothing, only an empty, sterile room, soft white light. She's lying in a strange pod of some sort; she's clean, unharmed except for the strange pressure at the back of her head that she soon discovers originates from a tube connecting the base of her skull to the wall. With a flick of her wrist, she's free of it.

She's a bit shaky from disorientation and muscle disuse, but she manages to climb down from the pod utilizing the little ladder with relative ease; she jumps the last short distance from one of the rungs, used to repelling down the face of much steeper climbs.

The cacophony of voices she hears now in her head — some only faint whispers, some of them murmurs so loud she'd swear they were standing next to her — sound to her as though she's experiencing another Force-guided vision, as she had in Maz's castle when she'd first touched Skywalker's saber. At the same time, they're much different than that — there's noise and thoughts and emotions, but less disturbing somehow than reliving the moments of her childhood abandonment in vivid, visceral detail. Some of the voices even seem beckoning, coaxing.

...Jedi? Other Force-sensitives?

She sets the crisp, white, pressed clothes she finds aside, choosing to remain in her clothes she's arrived in, and after unearthing the rest of her belongings goes in search of the source of the faint tug at her senses. ]

:026 - Arrival in Concordia

[ The shuttle ride and transport to the Bearings is fairly uneventful, but as they draw nearer to the Apartment block Rey is aware of a multitude of both familiar and new noises in her mind — the voices she'd heard in the Nesting Deck are there and some are louder, more insistent, jumbled and lively and intermixed with images and textures.

And then there is a faint pulse in her head that she recognizes, humming like an unsteady motor, one she's heard before and nearly knows like the back of her own hand. As she and the other passengers disembark already her heartbeat and adrenaline are on high alert, even if she's not entirely certain why. She traverses down the hallway of level 13, in search of an empty room, and becomes even more aware of it; a crackling purr, uneven but steady somehow as though it's barely held together and just biding its time before it erupts.

...She might be so distracted by it, this sound in the back of her head that manages to be heard despite the cacophony of all the others, that she may in fact not be completely aware of her physical surroundings. Oops. ]

WILDCARD: [ feel free to run into Rey wherever your character would choose, in Concordia! ]

you know what I've come for

[narcissithstic]

[Up here, where Bearings sits atop its modern foundation, the city rooftops stretch high enough to remind him— at times— of Coruscant. He'd been only once or twice before, too young to really take much of it in, and then too old to feel either want or wonder at his Uncle's side; it was his mother's domain more than his own (the Force had seen to that), but now, entire star systems away, there are times that he feels a residual, familiar pull against the grain. A reminder that no matter where he treads, the shadow of who he once was clings tightly to his heels, unwilling to let go.

Anakin Skywalker is dead. For that reason alone, nostalgia comes easily: moments where he senses more than he should, loses focus for longer than he should. Still, with his symbiotic bond having negated nearly all of the physical damage he'd suffered in the bombing (sling cast off, superficial bindings left in place) the matter of returning to his room to survey the state of things remains on the table. Fingers set over cold metal, thumb braced against the crossguard of his hilt, and he realizes then— belatedly— that the stirring pull of the Force, the maddening pressure he'd felt in the wake of Anakin's loss, seems sharper somehow. Blooming clarity as if his vision were coming into focus. Proximity.

Proximity is the key, not grief.

And in that split-second moment of realization, Ren reels away from the polished gloss of his bedside table, footsteps rushed to the point of being a heavy clatter. The door swings open, strikes the wall with a bang— he rounds the first twist in the hall, the second, a trail he knows to follow as if it were carved into the flooring. Left, not right. Forward, forward.

And there, a slight silhouette against cast light from Concordia, he sees her.

His saber rests tightly against his palm, exposed wiring biting his skin. The high collar of his shirt compares little to the robes he'd worn when they'd last met, but the scar she left him with remains— as does the bitter fury in his expression. The trembling, hateful rage that boils just under his skin. Ren doesn't breathe, doesn't blink. Time slows, stretched out for a handful of beats as his tongue hits the back of his teeth - and then it's a sharp hiss, disbelief and outrage tangled up in his throat like bile. How much has he lost? How much has she ripped from his fingers as if it was her right?

It isn't fair.

The Nest should never have brought her here.]

Prince - NPC - Station 72 OTA

[regalled]

[There is a quiet mind on the Station.

It doesn't call to the new Hosts, but maybe the silence does. Prince can only rarely be found on the Nesting deck during a hatching. He preferred, when the situation allowed, to give them the time. This time he is instead on the hanger deck, square shouldered and dark skinned, a transport ship sitting angular and minimalist in the center of the open space. The new Hosts could hardly know how much it has changed since the others left, but it is immaculately clean and organized, even the scrap so many of them found fascinating and useful has been tucked away into one of the side rooms, categorized in some rough way. He has had time on his hands. Outside of Prince, the ship, and the few cords running between the ship and the Station, the hangar is empty. All of the other ships have been hidden away, where they would not be a temptation.

This ship was a necessity, and it would not be on the station for long.

He seems fully absorbed in the flat white pad in his hand, but when someone enters he looks up, without surprise.]

Welcome to the Station.

[greentech]

[ After meeting Shiro again and making a few other introductions, Pidge has started to explore. What else is she supposed to do? Sit on her hands? Hardly. She's determined to figure out what this station is, what it's made of, what kind of technology powers it - everything. Finding someone else isn't too much of a surprise, but the sense of quiet definitely is, especially since she's had a low-key murmur going on at the back of her head since she woke up. ]

The Station? What is this place? Where are we? What happened to my lion? And where are the rest of my friends?

Cathaway - NPC - Station 72 OTA

[polyphonos]

[The Station is isn't perfectly still, it isn't perfectly quiet, it isn't perfectly preserved, but it is absolutely balanced: perfectly poised, a dissonant feeling of a centered, benign beast lingering along some invisible, unnamed liminal space. Deep, deep, deep in the guts of the place there is a quiet hum murmuring outward. Somewhere there is a long narrow corridor leading faintly downward. At the end of it is a small, smooth, circular chamber and in it center is the woman whose mind is humming.

It's a pleasant rhythm, an easy inviting lull like a cool breath of air through an open window on a hot summer's day. It's constant, consistent, clear even as she's occupied elsewhere: standing quietly in the exact center of the chamber, her attention on a small square screen in his hands. Cathaway could sit, but she doesn't bother; she expects she'll need to attend to other matters shortly with the newly hatched hosts.

Surely, thinks a very small part of her mind, someone of them will eventually find her here.]

[greentech]

[ The calm and pleasant hum (there's no other way for Pidge to describe it) draws her down during her day on the station. She wants to find out what she can about this station and its technology; it's how she copes. Exploring and letting her mind mull over everything, categorize it, examine it - it helps. She shouldn't be that surprised to find someone behind the door, but she is. Pidge peers from behind the door for a moment, having the temerity to look a bit sheepish. ]

Uh, sorry - is this your room?

[ She's not typically an invader of privacy. Even if she likes finding out about things. Besides, there's something about this woman that seems to command respect. ]