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[MISSION LOG] GET IN THE CAR
CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: Avera 9
WHEN: Day :156 - 160
SUMMARY: Welcome to thejungle muddy junk pile in space. Avera 9, pt.1
WARNINGS: None; will edit if necessary.
THERE IS AN EXPECTATION that all hosts meet on the flight deck; that much is obvious on waking - something that, strangely, all new hosts seem to have done at the same time. Pack your things, says a gut sensation. It's time to go somewhere different.
ONCE ASSEMBLED, it isn't long before Prince and Cathaway make their own appearances. They have a set of kits with them - one for each young host - and a square that unfolds into a data pad with mission details. Each kit contains some of the materials hosts will find helpful for their assignment, and the equipment is not to be traded away or sold, Prince explains. The rest, Cathaway adds, will be provided once travel is complete. And then it's time to get underway. Today that means piling into a sleek, arrow shaped ship with plenty of space to carry personnel and equipment. There are a number of bikes lashed in the cargo area, places for hosts to stow their things, and enough seating at each side of the carrier's interior for hosts to be comfortable. It's a short trip, Cathaway assures and then makes her way with Prince to the cockpit. Today, they're coming with.
Initial checks. Engines go. The landing circular landing pad under the ship turns, lowering down into the flight deck floor as it goes. The ship comes with it, descending into the cool dark depths of the Station. There's a shudder as it locks into the launch tube, as the channel overhead is sealed; there is no countdown, just a pulsing moment of anticipation-- and then rocketing, teeth rattling momentum and a bright, hot flash of joy as the ship is projected from the Station - as it sears through time and space and a hundred versions of the same universe until it comes to rest here: smacked out into real space hung above a murky brown planet, clearly visible through the massive viewscreen at the front of the ship.
It's a good thing there's not much to look at; Cathaway doesn't waste time before deftly setting a course, slicing down through upper atmosphere with hardly a shudder from the knife point shaped ship. The planet comes up rapidly and a hum passes through the carrier as it lowers - cresting down through dark clouds to be battered by rainfall and the cross cutting of wind. But it flies steady, sure, and in time they streak at ground level across muddy flatlands and massive stone slabs - skim across inert bodies of water in the slow process of expanding from the constant sluggish rainfall.
The ship eventually comes to rest in the middle of what must be a massive valley; it sets down with hardly a shiver, then something clangs loud and the ramp at the rear descends. Cathaway unhooks her harness and rises from the pilot's seat.
"Here we are. Be well and do well; try not to kill anyone." Yourselves included, being the unspoken addendum. "Make sure to return here at the specified time. We can't extend our time table to account for stragglers."
There is a pause before Prince adds, with an edge of silent reluctance, “If you find yourselves in a situation you cannot handle, call and we will come.”
And then you're free to go wherever you like. Welcome to Avera 9.
(click to zoom; blue is water; yellow is lowlands/flood plains/etc; green is higher, drier terrain; brown is for ridges/high ground)
((OOC Notes: You'll notice that this log only covers the first few days of the mission; this is to allow for player character decision making to effect the back half of the mission. That said, feel free to make your own logs and posts on the IC community as you see fit - just be aware that dating past day :160 may get a little wonky depending on how events proceed!
If you have any mission specific questions, direct them to the OOC post here. For exploration and salvage discovery, we've decided to give players a largely free rein for what items can be found. However, if you want specific mod-generated items for your characters to stumble across during their salvaging, feel free to use THIS thread to request that!))
WHERE: Avera 9
WHEN: Day :156 - 160
SUMMARY: Welcome to the
WARNINGS: None; will edit if necessary.
THERE IS AN EXPECTATION that all hosts meet on the flight deck; that much is obvious on waking - something that, strangely, all new hosts seem to have done at the same time. Pack your things, says a gut sensation. It's time to go somewhere different.
ONCE ASSEMBLED, it isn't long before Prince and Cathaway make their own appearances. They have a set of kits with them - one for each young host - and a square that unfolds into a data pad with mission details. Each kit contains some of the materials hosts will find helpful for their assignment, and the equipment is not to be traded away or sold, Prince explains. The rest, Cathaway adds, will be provided once travel is complete. And then it's time to get underway. Today that means piling into a sleek, arrow shaped ship with plenty of space to carry personnel and equipment. There are a number of bikes lashed in the cargo area, places for hosts to stow their things, and enough seating at each side of the carrier's interior for hosts to be comfortable. It's a short trip, Cathaway assures and then makes her way with Prince to the cockpit. Today, they're coming with.
Initial checks. Engines go. The landing circular landing pad under the ship turns, lowering down into the flight deck floor as it goes. The ship comes with it, descending into the cool dark depths of the Station. There's a shudder as it locks into the launch tube, as the channel overhead is sealed; there is no countdown, just a pulsing moment of anticipation-- and then rocketing, teeth rattling momentum and a bright, hot flash of joy as the ship is projected from the Station - as it sears through time and space and a hundred versions of the same universe until it comes to rest here: smacked out into real space hung above a murky brown planet, clearly visible through the massive viewscreen at the front of the ship.
It's a good thing there's not much to look at; Cathaway doesn't waste time before deftly setting a course, slicing down through upper atmosphere with hardly a shudder from the knife point shaped ship. The planet comes up rapidly and a hum passes through the carrier as it lowers - cresting down through dark clouds to be battered by rainfall and the cross cutting of wind. But it flies steady, sure, and in time they streak at ground level across muddy flatlands and massive stone slabs - skim across inert bodies of water in the slow process of expanding from the constant sluggish rainfall.
The ship eventually comes to rest in the middle of what must be a massive valley; it sets down with hardly a shiver, then something clangs loud and the ramp at the rear descends. Cathaway unhooks her harness and rises from the pilot's seat.
"Here we are. Be well and do well; try not to kill anyone." Yourselves included, being the unspoken addendum. "Make sure to return here at the specified time. We can't extend our time table to account for stragglers."
There is a pause before Prince adds, with an edge of silent reluctance, “If you find yourselves in a situation you cannot handle, call and we will come.”
And then you're free to go wherever you like. Welcome to Avera 9.
(click to zoom; blue is water; yellow is lowlands/flood plains/etc; green is higher, drier terrain; brown is for ridges/high ground)
((OOC Notes: You'll notice that this log only covers the first few days of the mission; this is to allow for player character decision making to effect the back half of the mission. That said, feel free to make your own logs and posts on the IC community as you see fit - just be aware that dating past day :160 may get a little wonky depending on how events proceed!
If you have any mission specific questions, direct them to the OOC post here. For exploration and salvage discovery, we've decided to give players a largely free rein for what items can be found. However, if you want specific mod-generated items for your characters to stumble across during their salvaging, feel free to use THIS thread to request that!))
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Instead, she focuses on her, a protective, nurturing instinct arising inside of her. Lexa has no desire to see these hosts as her people, but she knows that it's never as simple as that. Her conflict with Skaikru had taught her as much. Her interaction with Clarke had taught her as much.
The added hint of emotions (of humanity) only makes it all the more conflicting for her.]
Do you fear that you're a tool here? [she asks, tone soft. She knows that these questions could be dangerous, especially since she doesn't trust Cathaway or The Prince just yet.
But still. She asks. It's important to ask.]
no subject
Not that she's completely a fool either. Cathaway is all holy light, a pouring multitude, but that doesn't make it completely human either, and Prince seemed more principals than man, and they both needed them to succeed to do the work they had to do as part of the hive.
But her pain was their pain, her victories their victories now. ]
Maybe, but if they're only using me like that then... it's the first time in my life someone has given me a choice about it. About how I use my abilities, what I do with them, and the choice to be strong for myself and so I can be better for those around me.
[ They hadn't tried to guilt her, like Jack had, had threatened or pleaded or twisted meanings. Just offered her family, all she ever wanted, to live her life for herself. It doesn't seem like much, when she puts it like that, but the truth is, it's everything. She'd killed for the vault hunters, and more so, sent them to kill, she doesn't have the high ground about what she might be asked to do. She'd already done much, much worse.
She looks up at Lexa, smile brief and kind and full of something, something as fallible as hope, something as determined as a sword. She's thankful, so very thankful, this might be a dream that came from her own death, but it's a very good dream. ] To choose how I get to be strong, and with whom I can do it with.
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In this scenario, there is little they can do. Either they utilize the symbiote to protect themselves—or die trying. It's similar to the concept she presented Angel before. She has to fight for her own life, on her own terms. But believing that other people (even Lexa herself) are responsible for that choice is dangerous.
Then again, Lexa's made poor choices because of scenarios involving ultimatums. It's nearly cost her her position as Commander.]
Protect what matters to you. Ensure that you make it an actual choice. But what you've been offered so far is too early to claim as that just yet. [If nothing else, she wants to help Angel protect that choice. Not just because she's been in her shoes, but because she understands wanting that freedom, and to be removed from feeling oppressed.
But it's still early. And Lexa is disinclined to trust their situation (though she finds it difficult not to trust Angel, though that's a fact that hasn't entirely occurred to her just yet).]
no subject
Then she realises, she has nothing to say -- she's empty of such things. She doesn't know what she cared about. Her friends? But they didn't need her so much, she trusted them to kill Jack. That, that she knew, they were more than capable of. An apocalypse she had so carefully made. But what after that?
She couldn't think of anything other than live, live, live. What did that entail? She was realising she had no idea, staring blankly at the walls of her room more than once, wondering what to do with her time now she was not living through a hundred thousand wires. There, these missions helped, took up her time, turned her outward instead of into her own thoughts. Those she had met so far -- they had something, anything, their homes that they missed, Steve who cared so much for the people he left behind that he would not go back if it meant hurting them. Ahsoka who spoke of a beautiful force that connected all life, and an order that took her away, called her special. Lexa, even, who moved with so much purpose that it was nice to even just be beside to watch it.
What she has is a gut twisting bitterness for things she was never allowed to have but made to watch. Then what, after that? A planet full of murderers, cannibals, and the friends she'd asked to kill her. After what she'd done, she didn't think anyone would miss her particularly. She was untethered, so desperate of wanting a home that wouldn't hurt her. Cathaway had taken off her collar, wiped away her tears, and given her the word family. ] It might be, you're probably right. I don't know how much I trust them, I suppose, I've been on the other end of this sort of thing to pretend to be that naive. But do you know? The longer I am here, and talk to everyone? I realise I have nothing that matters to me.
[ She doesn't want Pandora to suffer more on her account, she had already done such awful, awful thing, and that guilt is all too real, but - ] I just... don't want the people from my home to suffer more than they already did because of me. Do you suppose that counts?
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Lexa's heart feels full and heavy in response to these words, and the statement itself nearly makes it impossible for her to comprehend what comes next. The idea that someone could have nothing isn't foreign, but her people have struggled to give meaning to their lives in the wake of a lot of terrible. And most recently, Lexa has tried to offer them a future—a future without pain, without suffering, without constant warring. She has tried to show them new ways of valuing themselves so that they can have a future. But now she's here, and as such, unable to follow through on that.
Having something that matters is important.
And if it involves protecting people, then Lexa understands that. Her strength lies in protecting others. She's seen the Reapers turned back to men, and the way they've suffered in the wake of that transformation. She can see the rings under their eyes and she can tell that they want nothing more than to be removed from the monstrous identities that had been forced upon them. But she also knows that they can't forget it, the same way that she has had to carry the burden of allowing hundreds of her people to die for the greater goal of stopping the Mountain Men. She had carried it with purpose and certainty, but deep down, she knew (she knows) there was another way.
Either way, it's tied to the idea of owing her people something, the same way that Lexa owes her people something (and always will).
Lexa inclines her head forward, processing what she might say next.]
It does. [A short, simple response. And then:] Your choice matters. [It's repetitive, to a degree, but Lexa feels its important to state it in a slightly different context.] Even if you never had one before. Your people matter. There is always a way to expand upon a simple idea.
Cathaway and the Prince both claim that our hands will never be forced in these missions, but ... I believe you should hold on to that. Never let them suggest that it's in your best interests to do any different. Be defiant because you can. [These are ideals that Lexa herself would never abide by as a leader, but Cathaway and the Prince aren't meant to be leaders.
Even if their existence as the only Hosts is suspicious in and of itself.]
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[ It's silly, it's... very Pandora. All shades of Vault Hunter, doing because they could, because they had the powers and the will and the luck to do it. Life wasn't fair anyway, do what you wanted because it was all that you were going to get out of it. Her fingers still on their tapping, the light still moving, all absent proof of thought. ]
I'm not so sure what they really intend for us. [ Her free hand comes up and brushes against her neck. The bare skin there. ] They've given me more than anyone has, my whole life. They didn't even what to... bind me, most people do, one way or another, not just me but anyone of my kind. I even gave Cathaway the choice about what to do with me. She let me decide. SO I guess that's the first steps, right?
no subject
She didn't believe what was offered to her and her own. When she challenged it, reality revealed itself. She had to fight to free her people, and the end result cost her. Changed her.
[Left out is Lexa's guilt over her involvement. She takes full responsibility for those changes, even as she doesn't regret protecting her people.]
I wouldn't say that it's without a cause. Your cause is to survive. It all comes back to the same point. [Tidy. Neat. Almost like a narrative that Lexa has built up in her head.
She acknowledges that her paranoia might be wrong, and that Angel's simple acceptance of everything may be right. But she doesn't want to give voice to that.
She doesn't want to let that idea take hold, not before she's absolutely certain.]
erg sorry for that last tag it was not stellar
Still for the time being, she turns her eyes to Lexa and there's nothing cruel, only open affection in through and word. ] You remind me of people where I come from. All they do is survive, more viciously than most do, at least, but it's what they do.
[ Pauses. ] I will, I promise I'll keep in mind. I'll try not to let it get the better of me. [ Odd, to be worried about. Yes, Cathaway had, and Prince gave her training, but this felt different, and watching Lexa again, before she becomes aware she's quite probably doing that too intently right now. With her glowing eyes and unnatural skin, forces herself away. Breathing slowly. ] No one's ever talked to me like this before. I'm sorry if I don't know what to say very well.
[ Which too, is a first. She always knows what to say, how to turn things this way or that. But this leaves her flustered, that someone as in control as Lexa was, so full of her own purpose would take the time... well, that was different. ] If you don't mind me asking, why are you doing it?
[ She's not sure if it's true selflessness, but -- it was strange to have the concern. ]
dude it was fine!
My people viciously survive, as well. It's all we know. We've taken a new path, inspired by that very same woman I mentioned. [The one who had fought to free her people. Clarke no longer wanted to see the bloodshed continue around her. She intended to change that.]
But I fear that they won't be able to proceed without my presence. If I die here, then my spirit may not be able to pass on to the next Commander so that he or she may take my place. I can't risk that. And so, I've taken an interest in the others here, to ensure that they understand the meaning of survival.
[They are a means to an end. Tools, but not quite.]
But in changing my approach, I don't intend to harm others. To use them as my people have been used. I can't say my intentions are pure. They aren't. But I do intend for all of us to defeat what threatens us. [Even where other Hosts have failed.
Her people had failed with the Mountain Men countless times, and had finally succeeded. Surely, the people here could do the same in time.]
smothers you gently fffff also god this thread leave me here bye
But what Lexa gives her is solid, understandable. There's a lot of questions there, and she files them away for later. For right now she nods, slowly in understanding. No, it's nothing she completely understands personally. All that had been required from her is that she burn but -- it's a leader's response, something she expected from Roland. Measured, not foolishly optimistic, but realistic to the situation. A working plan. ] If we work together, we survive together. I can work with that.
[ Pause, fingers hovering again. ] It's very brave, trying to do so much for your people. I... admire it very much.
[ Says it quietly, not something she readily admits, but she figures she's already exposed that open maw in her heart and mind to Lexa enough now that she doesn't see much need for pretex otherwise. ]
lexa adores her so much already
Not every leader has the same ability. Thelonious Jaha had thought himself a visionary much like her, but in the cage with her and Kane, she had seen the reality of his ways. He believed in sacrificing others first. He believed in blind alleys and little more. If he had continued to lead his people (if Clarke hadn't stepped into that role), they would have been led down a dark path that they could never recover from.
So she values herself. She knows what she is capable of, but to someone from the outside, it is surprising. Perhaps it is more the idea that it comes from bravery rather than duty.]
Thank you. [The words would be perfunctory from anyone else, but Lexa is not always as mannerly as she'd like.] I wouldn't call it bravery, but I do thank you all the same.
My people do agree with the sentiment of working together and surviving together. Though it was ... difficult, we will accomplish much that way. [Once she returns to them.] I have no reason to believe it'll be any different here. That's the responsibility we have to take on.
[And, for that reason, she sees it as duty, responsibility, or any number of words that relate to something that isn't bravery. Bravery feels so fleeting. She's been raised to be this way.]
I just cannot?? with them??
She hoped he and Lilith were happy, she hoped her death could have allowed that. ]
I do. It's brave to want to help, not just for personal glory, but because you truly want to. I see... a lot of suffering. People don't take on that mentality very often.
[ And something settles there, firmer, she will be different this time. This time, she has a choice. This time, she will be better, and it will start now. She won't lay down like a corpse in the street. ] Lexa... you said you wanted to make sure your knowledge was passed on? How do you mean?
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Simply put: there's a disconnect.
She doesn't acknowledge it further, but there's a sense between them that Lexa is puzzled by Angel's assessment. She still feels (knows) that she's putting her people first. She still feels (knows) that her rank and standing has no place here. But she will never stop being the Commander of her people, even as her spirit passes on.
It's her spirit that Angel asks after, and Lexa frowns, briefly, considering the question.]
My people believe in reincarnation. [Once, she thought that all people did. They had no way of knowing that the Mountain Men believed in anything else, too isolated for any of them to know where they stood on that matter. Lexa had first learned that there were other approaches to power from Clarke.]
When I die, the spirit of the Commander will be taken from me, and it will be passed on. The Flamekeeper of my people—his name is Titus. He taught me, and he will teach and advise the next Commander after my spirit chooses them. It happens in a fight to the death, with the different initiates fighting until one comes out on top. [What sounds spiritual is not, however.
After all, what Lexa doesn't know is that she has an AI inserted into the back of her neck. Previous Commanders, long ago, may have known. But since the chip has degraded, what knowledge she gains from it is diluted, without her ever knowing the true source of it. She also doesn't know that her consciousness will be copied and uploaded onto the chip. Instead, she believes that when she communes with the other Commanders, that their spirits come to her, and that they speak—but, again, there is little chance for her to know the truth.
And so, like her people, she speaks of spirits and rituals. She can think of no other way of approaching it.]
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I've heard of something similar. [ says it politely, could be talking of herself, could be talking of other's beliefs. ] But... I might... be able to help you, so that if anything else, I can help you pass on the knowledge.
[ It's a tentative offer, she's not sure how Lexa would feel about it. But it mattered so much to her, and what else was being a conduit for information good for except to help remember things, from time to time? ]
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But she knows (from Clarke, thanks to Clarke) that being trapped in tradition can only lead to more bloodshed. If she's stubborn and she's unwilling to let this pass on, what will she do? The corners of her mouth go tight, and she stiffens, looking away.
Unless Titus shows up (and she hopes he doesn't: she trusts few others to handle things in Polis in her absence), she will have no choice but to face the reality of their situation. The only Hosts to welcome them were Cathaway and the Prince. The reality of the matter is that death is just as likely as living. It's a fact she's accepted long ago, knowing that being the Commander, being Heda, doesn't make her invincible. People will fight for her, but that doesn't mean she's guaranteed life.
They may all die, and Angel's offer may mean nothing. But it's a contingency plan.
The thing about Lexa is that she likes to complicate matters, to make them as convoluted as possible. She looks back to Angel and measures her up, neck straightening as she looks at her through heavy-lidded eyes.]
I'll consider it. For me to take the offer, you'll have to be taught all the ways of my people, and agree to follow my lead on all matters here. And to advise me, as well. It's not something that a friend would do for another. There is some ceremony behind it. Some of what you would learn may be difficult to bear, and to follow. So as I am considering it, you will have to do the same. [She speaks as if she's sitting upon a throne, head held high and sword just out of reach. She has neither and is doing neither here, but just the same.
She knows that Titus would want to hold it to this, and so, she will respect their relationship as well. He practically raised her, and has done everything in her interests. She has to do right by him now.]
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If that's what you would like but - I'm sorry, that's not quite what I meant. I doubt I could ever be worthy that but -
[ She's a little too knew to herself, even if there is an appeal there. To be entrenched in another world, another place like that. ]
I mean I could show you how to record it. So you could keep your own records, with these -- [ she taps her fingers against the datapad. ] -- I could make them faster for you. If you feed me your memories, I could record them more exactly but...
[ feels guilty, what Lexa had offered was far more than what she meant, really. Hope it wasn't taken as an insulting rejection. ]
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It's a nuance to her actions that day that she doesn't care to touch on. She hadn't even done that with Clarke herself.
Lexa offers the slightest of shakes of her head.]
It's not a recording that I hope to pass on. If it were just that, I could keep a record. [She can write, even if she can't use a keyboard or datapad easily.] I could then ask you to ensure that it makes it back to my people.
No, what they need is the spirit that is inside of me. The ceremony to do with that requires someone anointed. To gain that, you would have to become one of my people, and only serve me then. There is no other way.
[Because she is already offering her body, her emotions, and her mind to the Nest. She did not intend to take the offer, because she had not been told the full extent of it.
She refuses to give up her traditions—her people. It's as simple as that.]
no subject
Which is the first time in her life is something she can give willingly. ]
I hope you understand, after what we just talked about, I can't do that. I want to help you, and I will pass anything along that you give me, show you better ways of doing it. But I... just became me again, and I don't... want to give that up just yet. Like you said.
[ Not for anyone, not for nothing, never again. ]
I never want to be anyone's subject, [ there is a cadence, there, that comes with meaning, subject and servant, she has been both. She has been ripped apart, and she has served. ] not ever again. Or at least... not for awhile.
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[That's an example. But she has also been cruel. Lexa is changing that, bit by bit, and she hopes to enact it further. She hopes to not require a flamekeeper here. More than anything, she aches to return to Titus' side and get his perspective on things again, even as he fails to trust her judgment.]
If it comes to the fact that my life is lost, then I will set aside my traditions and keep a record somewhere for you to act on it. Would that be a fair compromise? [Unless she finds someone else who will suit the task. But Lexa will not push the matter. It's not her goal, not here. Again: she hopes to live, and offer others that same freedom.]
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She spins all recorded memory under her fingers, she weaves herself into mankind's creations and the creations of those things that came before them even. ] I do understand... I suppose I exist out of a similar process. I wish someone had given me so much instruction.
[ Weighs, her tongue pressing at her bottom lip. ] I can do things, more than... I think I can explain to you in easy reference, but I can ensure it lasts ... a very long time.
[ Or at least is so widely dispersed, perhaps one day, her people will find it in time. The galaxy was a big, big place. ]
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She can't know. To her, it seems obvious, but to others, it would seem to be foolish for her to not know that the bump on the back of her neck belongs to an AI—that she has more than just a symbiote entwined with her body. She knows that it's there, but not why it's there. It's merely a part of being a commander.]
Thank you. I'll make it clear where it is once I put it together. I only ask this: if it comes to that and there is no one else, please be certain to retrieve my body. It's of the utmost importance, and I don't want you to find it out after you've read my instructions.
no subject
I can do that, and if I can't, I'll make sure it happens.
[ Sobers then. Back to the point at hand, and she turns from anything so tragic, so sobering as the fact they'll both die one day, to what keeps them alive here and now. ]
Here, you don't know how to use the datapad very well do you? Do you want me to show you?
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[It would assist her in playing catch up without being caught without assistance again and again. There will be things she won't be able to learn for various reasons. Piloting is out of the question for a long time. Guns are, as well.
But she's clever enough to learn basic technology, even if she'll be much like someone's great aunt figuring out how to do it.]
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That's alright, now we're even, you had to teach me how to hold a weapon. [ says it cheerfully, makes it fair. They can help each other, pick up each other's slack. That's working together, and she thinks that's what Cathaway and Prince would want. ]
I can run you through the basics, and then the advanced functions, if you feel comfortable. Again, like you said, it's nothing you should rely on, but in navigation, especially when it needs to be covert, this can be incredibly helpful.
[ Like talking to Jack or the vault hunters, she breaks it down into simplistic use and need. Technology may as well be her heart and lungs, but she appreciates that it's not that way for others. ]
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So, she settles in, drawing out her datapad.]
If I require more assistance with this later, will I be able to ask you? [she asks before they begin. It seems important to have someone to rely on that isn't one of the Hosts permanently embedded in the Nest.]
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