[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]

[ Of course it has to be more complicated than that. There has to be more to a war than "they just hate us". Even if it's something like "Zarkon is a giant bag of dicks who wants to rule the entire universe with an iron fist". Pidge frowns at her, lips locked in a scowl. ]

Is that how this works, then? We're just vessels for the symbiotes to ride around in so they can survive a little while longer? There's a word for that, you know: parasite.

[polyphonos]

[Patience: so stitched through the Cathaway's end of the mental link that it might as well be what she's made of. Yes, she understands the resentment. She understands it feels like being trapped, like being thrust into a position no one asked for.]

Consider that the enemy would have pursued you regardless of whether a symbiote was planted in your mind and that the symbiote has no bearing on the physical or mental development that occurred to make you compatible. They didn't chose you. You would have been marked whether you came here or not. As for our purpose here...

[A thoughtful pause. Her mouth thins in consideration, then:]

We are the only thing that stands between the enemy and the multiversal genocide against the symbiote and their would-be hosts. We suppose we believe life is worth preservation.

[greentech]

[ OK, Pidge can't argue that stopping genocide is a bad thing. This whole situation still leaves a bad taste in her mouth and her expression settles into something sour and more than a bit sullen. ]

Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better. Thanks.

[ It's not really Cathaway's fault, but Pidge is not in the mood to be logical. ]

[polyphonos]

[These things take time. She respects that.]

You're welcome.

[Sick burns.]

Now, [There's a sensation of turning of a corner, of changing trajectory though nothing in Cathaway's bearing or demeanor changes.] Were there other questions you had for me? About what to expect on your mission, maybe? How to use your mental connection more proficiently, perhaps? Anything?

[greentech]

[ Pidge grits her teeth. She'd like to storm off and sulk consider this conversation, but she does have questions. Loads of them, actually. ]

What do you expect me to do when I get down there? How do I stop people from getting into my head in the first place? Can I block them out entirely?

[polyphonos]

[She makes a small noise, as if only just remembering something, and tucks a hand into the folds of her wrap dress. From it, Cathaway removes a small card sized piece of equipment. She unfolds it like a note, then finally moves from her place at the center of the room to hand Pidge the databank pad.]

Here, you can have this one. You'll find all the mission notes on Concordia listed there. The long and the short of it seems to be that you and the other hosts must stop a terrorist group from subjugating a minority group, but I'm sure your broodmates will be able to explain in more detail.

[As for the rest...]

You won't be able to stop them entirely as you are now. That takes more skill and practice than you have. Perhaps consider redirecting mental connections instead - when you become aware of an intrusion or leakage, channel it in a direction you're comfortable with. Also speak with Steve Rogers and Angel when you arrive. They know a thing or two about shielding the link.

[greentech]

[ Pidge makes a small exasperated noise as she accepts the datapad. Well, maybe this will have a few more answers. Not that she expects anything here to make a whole lot of sense for a little while. ]

Great. Steve Rogers and Angel. I'll remember that. Is there anything useful you can actually tell me?

[polyphonos]

[Even without the thread-thin link running between them, she's seen this brand of exasperation enough times to know it immediately. She's felt it - no, feels it keenly and intimately, choppy water under a mirror surface.

She is not unsympathetic.]

We are telling you the most useful thing we know: trust your brood and the other hosts, ask them all the questions that you think of and stand on their accomplishments to get closer to your own answers. The combination of their experiences with your own is what makes us all better, stronger, more capable. Even our own pool of knowledge is simply one made up of the information other hosts have supplied - hosts who once stood in the same place that you do now.

[greentech]

[ Pidge doesn't really care whether she's sympathetic or not. She's a touch frustrated and kind of crabby and more than a bit prickly. ]

I'm a person, too, you know. Not just a "host".

[ It's a challenge. She's throwing the advice back in her face. ]

[polyphonos]

Do you think there's something wrong with this? Is that why you're upset?

[Patient. Easy. Calm - that choppy water regulating where no one else can see or feel it.]

[greentech]

Oh, no, why would I be upset? I've just been pulled halfway across the universe and I'm probably never going to see my family ever again!

[ Pidge's anger is loud. ]

[polyphonos]

[It crashes against her: water at a sea wall. She doesn't waver, but she isn't cold. Something in the link stretched between them murmurs with some echo of that same anger.]

Of course. We understand and are sorry.

[But no, she can't insist otherwise. It would be an especially cruel type of lie.]

[greentech]

[ Pidge wishes she'd stop being so understanding. Then it would be easier to keep her anger boiling away and simmering. As it is, she's starting to feel like she's talking to a brick wall; nothing she does seems to earn a reaction. Her fingers clench. ]

No, you don't. And no you're not.

[ She's going to go... find somewhere to sit and try to deal. Sorry, Cathaway. ]

[polyphonos]

[Sweet summer Pidge. You can run, but you can't hide.

That persistent, patient, infuriating warmth doesn't fade as Pidge leaves the chamber so much as it simply flattens, extends, spreads thin. Before she was aware of it, it might have been imperceptible. But now?

Well now it's hard to ignore, isn't it? But Cathaway won't press the issue. Let her be upset; those emotions are important to feel.]