[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

[polyphonos]

[There's a rhythm to his footfalls in the narrow hallway that sound familiar to her ear - a sharpness to the heel click cadence that distracts some measure of her attention from the wider task at hand. If she were a creature with two eyes independent of one another, she might swivel one in his direction now. As it is, he's well into the room before the bulk of her focus begins to shift from Elsewhere - to narrow down, to be whittled here to this fine point so she might--

Cathaway turns her face to him. Her right hand, raised gently waist high and palm down as if floating across some invisible console, lowers with a gentle chime of the charms at her wrists and fingers.]

You are. [It would hardly be worth much to lie to him about that.] But we understand why. How can we help you?

[batmotif]

[Bruce does not move closer, not quite yet. He keeps his gaze level, an attempt to deter himself from any distractions the surreality of the room lends to.

His first question is simple enough, and those who do not know Bruce and his inclinations might take it as a reach for a more proper sort of introduction. In reality, formalities mean very little to him right now, at least in the face of explanations. (An impression he undoubtedly made on Prince, when they first spoke to each other.)]

Are you Cathaway?

[He was told of another guardian of this station. And she was obviously not a newly hatched host; she lacked the confusion, the questions, the disorientation. She was anything but.]

[polyphonos]

Yes, this one is.

[Her attention is... fuzzy. There's something direct about her gaze, the paleness of her eyes too bright, oddly reflective despite the gentle diffusion of light in the room. Yet, there's a sense of distance - of distraction, as if she isn't completely focused here in the moment.

No matter. She can likely answer his questions with that much.]

And you are?

[Most young hosts prefer her to ask as opposed to simply knowing. It's a waste of time, but a small one and that much can be afforded him at present.]

[batmotif]

Bruce. [-he responds plainly, evenly. The fact that there's something strange in her demeanor, as if she's distracted, doesn't escape Bruce's notice. As if her asking him who he is was mere formality, and she might already know the answer before he set foot into this odd circular chamber.]

I've spoken with Prince. I was told that you were "forthcoming" when it comes to information about our connection to the symbiotes, and the Nest.

[Implying that he's here to ask questions, naturally -- even though he may be resistant to the very idea of being so thoroughly connected to a hive mind.]

[polyphonos]

[That gentle, automated smile eases somewhat - the lines of it become briefly more natural, less practiced. Yes, The Prince would say something like that.]

We will do our best to answer whatever questions you have, Bruce.

[Ask away.]

[batmotif]

[He makes the impulsive decision (well, impulsive for him) to ask about something that's been bothering him. And his intuition tells him that it may be related to the matter at hand, so he merely considers it a proper sort of segue regardless.]

'We'? [Her choice of words was easy enough to latch onto, and difficult to ignore going forward.] And who else am I speaking to, if more than just Cathaway?

[polyphonos]

You are. [She turns her hand with a small murmur of the charms at her wrist, touching her fingertips idly to the plane of her breastbone.] This body is Cathaway's, but we speak with a more complex mind. She's here, of course, but so are many others. Though [the narrowest beat of hesitation; she shrugs small] it would be difficult to parse between them to give you a proper introduction. We find it simpler just to think of it as one very broad voice.

[Despite the vague quality of her attention, there's a steadiness in her gaze that hasn't faltered since his arrival. She smiles then - soft, absently amused:] Does that bother you?

[batmotif]

[Does that bother him? Bruce briefly thinks to himself what a ridiculous question that is. Of course it bothers him. It should bother anyone in the right minds, this merging of... identities into one amorphous, ambiguous whole. He's inclined to think he's talking to less of a person than an outlet; it seems like Cathaway's words confirm this suspicion.

He doesn't lie about it. No point in that.]

Yes, it does. Tell me, is this something that she wanted? To lose herself in this "more complex mind"?

[polyphonos]

[There, something like real sympathy bubbles out from under the vague, easy, utterly paltable feel of her presence. Something softens in the sharp lines of Cathaway's face and she gentles through the eyes and the line of her shoulder in a way that's undeniably (deceptively?) more human than she'd been a moment ago. A short inhale, a small exhale.]

She knew what she was doing, yes. But she also rightly assumed this was the only way for her to gather information on how she came to be here and what she had to do to protect her people. [There are big questions in the multiverse. Sometimes a better, broader vantage point is the only way by which to have them answered.]

But-- [She taps her fingers against her chest again.] --we find the way you said it unappealing. She isn't lost. Nothing has been erased.

[batmotif]

[To be fair, any answer given would have been unsatisfactory to Bruce, who seems to have already decided that the whole idea of a hive mind was unacceptable. Cathaway's response certainly does not dissolve any of his misgivings, despite the sympathy that gently radiates from her, lapping at his feet. Despite the more human look in her eyes. Because Bruce, cynic as he is, cannot bring himself to completely trust the change.]

If what you're saying is true -- that nothing is erased -- then can you bring her, only her, to the forefront to speak to me? [He wants to see that humanity that "isn't lost", he wants to know if one individual can break the surface, gasping for air. Bruce wants to know if a sharply defined person can be pulled from the amorphous presence that he's beginning to feel is Cathaway.]

[polyphonos]

[She could lie to him. She could say yes, of course, and curve her words and reorganize the lines of this body into something resembling that singular woman. Would he know any better if she did?]

No, we can't. She is present and influences our decisions and perspective, but it would be impossible to untangle her from the rest of us. [In certain respects, she's too similar to other members of this conjoined mind. Defusing those similar elements might break something important, if it were even possible to do so.]

We could pretend otherwise, but it would be unkind and we don't want to be cruel to you.