[hatch log] the stealth ship's running out of fuel

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: DAY :29 - :30
SUMMARY: A new brood hatches; two new hosts arrive in Concordia.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

YOU WAKE UP. Something is different - something unnamable, but palpable. You aren't the same person you were the last time you were aware of yourself.

You might not know it right away, though. What you do know: you're in a just slightly claustrophobic compartment. A gentle white light diffuses from the top panel. You're wearing the clothes you remember from wherever you came from. You feel... good - regardless of what condition you might have been in before you came to this place. 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. Lastly, there’s a faint pinch at the base of your skull. Reach back to it and there's a small cable connected to the base of your neck and running back into the rear wall of the compartment. Disconnect it. Then it’s not so quiet anymore. Wherever here is, you aren't alone. You can feel that in your head: something big taking up space.

Welcome to Station 72, Mara and Murphy. All new hosts will have one day aboard the Station before being whisked off to Concordia to join the others. Get to know one another, ask the guardians of the Station - Prince and Cathaway - any burning questions you might have, explore Station 72. At the end of the day, a slick stealth shuttle will arrive in the hangar to take you to Concordia.

The pilot of the craft of a young man who buzzes across the fresh mental connection. It's loud enough to be irritating; he apologizes for it a few times during the trip through the pieces of the multiverse, as the ship pops into existence over the planet, and descends into the bustling inner city of Concordia in the dark hours of the morning on DAY 30. Nirad lands the stealth craft in a garden district; once you've disembarked, the ship reverts to an autopilot sequence and lifts off of it's own accord.

From there, it's just a short tram ride to the Bearings Apartment block building. The hosts, Nirad explains, have rented out Level 13. There are still some empty rooms there if you want one (you probably want one). That said-- if you don't want to go to Bearings and meet your new family comrades in arms ...friends...?

No one's stopping you. But some of them might come looking.

---

((OOC Notes: This is a mini-hatch log for Mara Jade and John Murphy; on-Station prompts should be closed to either one another or Station NPCs, but Concordia prompts may be open to everyone.

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

[snaphiss]

a. THE STATION | locked to elnath.

[Mara wakes with anger and frustration and terror, and it takes her a while to do anything but obsessively research an meditate. The old techniques, both Jedi and Imperial, do nothing to calm that sense of longing. Something is missing.]

[She waits and she plans and she tries to think her way out of it, and there isn't a way but to play along. For now, she has to play along, be good, useful, and when she has resources, then... then she'll see.]

[She's not going to be useful at all if she's still distracted. She's checked her blaster, hidden her lightsaber, and she's trawling the minimalist corridors, following that familiar-strange sense of rightness. It leads her to a person wandering the ship as well.] You!

b. CONCORDIA: ANYWHERE | ota.

[The false history they gave her suggested she was some kind of journalist, so Mara intends to play her role. She can think of worse ways to gather information.]

[She's got a datapad open, and she's been walking through the crowd, trying to get interviews with the locals. You may have heard her asking around. Finally, she stops by you, blithely interrupting you from whatever you were doing. In a flawless imitation of a cheerful, peppy voice:] Hello! I'm W. Frey with the Glimmering Gazette- Oh.

[And then she feels it, that indelible connection. Mara's not yet learned, completely, how to subtly block her emotional feedback, and a corona of annoyance blossoms through the connection to a fellow member of the Nest before she stoppers it as completely as she can. It's like bottling thunder, dangerous and temporary.]

It's one of you. [No matter how tall the person she's speaking with, she still manages to talk down her nose at them.]

c1. CONCORDIA: BOUT IT OUT | ota.

[Okay, this is stupid, but Mara needs to blow off some steam. She's won seven out of the last nine matches she's been in, and is planning on winning the next.]

[She can be challeneged, of course. The countdown is starting, and Mara indulges in some good old fashioned pregame smacktalk.] Have you ever done this sort of thing before? You don't look like it.

c2. CONCORDIA: BOUT IT OUT | still ota.

[Or you can catch Mara after the fight, tired out but in a better mood than she's been in the last handful of hours. It shines around her through the link through the Nest like a faint halo. She orders a drink, her one indulgence of the day, and goes over to the betting tables.]

What were the final numbers? [You don't have to be mentally linked to her to feel that smug pride.]

b

[greentech]

[ Pidge has to settle for being your average youth for her false identity. Fortunately, she's used to playing the part of someone else. She's just your average young teenage kid, out to... uh. Do whatever it is teenage people do on this planet. Window shop, judging by how Pidge seems to be absorbed in whatever technology she can look at or get her hands on. She almost doesn't notice "W. Frey" until there's something tugging insistently at the back of her head, demanding her attention. She glances up just a split second before Mara speaks to her and there's a brief look of confusion until she realizes what's going on. ]

You don't have to sound so excited about it.

[ Her reply is dry and despite being shorter than Mara by a good head or three, she's doing her best to keep up with the "talk down" thing. She shifts the digital gadget in her hand to her pocket with a little roll of her shoulders. ]

What are you doing out here?

[snaphiss]

[Mara's smile borders just on the edge of polite. It's one of those kind gestures she learned in the Imperial Court, where kindness was usually a way of saying 'you're not worth my time'.]

Doing my job. [Because this teenager has annoyed Mara, she elects to take it out on her as passive aggressively as possible. Also, she's not going to compromise her cover for the sake of niceties.] What do you think of recent events in the city?

[She primly readies her datapad.]

[greentech]

[ Pidge can do passive-aggressive, but regular ol' aggressive works just as well. She narrows her eyes in a little glare and folds her arms. "Doing her job". Yeah, whatever that meant. ]

They're weird. I don't really know what to make of them - who thinks setting off a bomb in a crowded room is a good idea? What's that supposed to accomplish for anyone?

[snaphiss]

[Mara smirks, taking childish pride in having annoyed a, well, a child.]

[Hey, it still counts as a win.]

For political capital, obviously. They're a terrorist organization. Don't they have those where you're from?

[This is why Mara would be a terrible journalist.]

b

[erbier]

[ She almost does not even quite notice that it is another host so close to her. She has become used to the journalists bothering her with questions, even more so used to answering them blandly. It has gotten increasingly persistent after the tabloids took pictures of her with everyone she spent time with at the Game Parlor prior to its untimely explosion. Who she's seeing, what she's wearing. It's all very tedious to her, but familiar. She remembers answering the few privileged members of Dreus's court with exactly as much easy nothingness. It's already dripping from her mouth, a distracted politeness, ]

I don't wish to stop for a conversation right--

[ But then, as it always is, the threading of the Nest is there to cut her. She stops walking, turning to face Mara fully. The other woman has stopped abruptly in her inquiry as well.

Mara's annoyance hits the wall of Ilde's utter cold indifference with no damage done.]

Hello.

[ It tempts her idly to see if she can pluck the woman's name out of her fresh and unprotected mind, but decides it might be misconstrued as antagonizing. ]

[snaphiss]

[Mara has been checking the holonet- no, the blogosphere? Ugh. Whatever they call it on this planet, she's been checking it obsessively for information. Her own disdain for tabloids has let her ignorant of most of the more fluffy news items, but she's seen this woman's photo before. Mara knows her name is Saffron, and that she's some kind of celebrity, but she didn't know she was a host.]

[That's... interesting. It's the kind of undercover work Mara might have pulled once. She'd played dumb arm candy before, but only on planets where she already knows the score. This Saffron is either very brave or very foolish.]

[Or perhaps both. It doesn't really matter. What matters is what Mara does next. She cocks a brow.] It's great to meet you. I'm a big fan. [Her expressionless face, and the buzz of interest in Mara's open mind, gives lie to fawning words. She's more interested in figuring out what this girl's angle is, and whether or not it's sharp.] I'd love an interview.

[erbier]

[ Ilde purses her lips slightly, finding this whole farce rather unpleasant, but as they are standing in a public place and she has by now learned not all hosts appreciate the touch of the mental link, she nods. ]

Very well. I would like to speak somewhere quiet, if you do not mind.

[ She does not say 'private' but it is essentially what she means. ]

I find the gardens in the Alpha block very peaceful.

[ The gardens are home turf for her. The sprawling ones in the Alpha block, the smaller one on the roof of the Bearings, the Circle Gardens back home on the Station. ]

a

[polyphonos]

[Searching is an inevitability after the hatch. The emotional and physical makeup of the hosts, the size of the group and the population of the Station can sometimes alter or delay that inclination, but by and large all new hosts eventually go looking for something. For better or worse, Cathaway is usually at the end of that unnamed tether. Some come to her by way of the Prince - the kind of young host who refuses the call murmuring through the Station's corridor will almost absolutely find him first (and subsequently find him aggravating enough to bicker with, and so turned in her direction) -, but she lays these eyes on them all eventually.

Today they meet in one of the Station's many unremarkable corridors, mottle light shifting gently across pale walls. There's something about the reflective floor that serves to muffle footsteps slightly. Mara Jade might as well be on top of her before Cathaway turns toward the shape of her voice.

She's a slight woman, birdlike in her narrowness and dreamily vague even as Mara closes the distance between them.]

Oh. [Both surprised and satisfied.] There you are.

[snaphiss]

[Mara is angry, and she expects anger in return. She's indignant, frustrated, and she feels trapped. She was finally, finally free, standing on that rooftop in Coruscant, and then-]

[And then endless whiteness and warped corridors. If it were painted black, she could be on a distaff Death Star. Finding a woman there in the midst of all of this, much less one so eerily connected to her own mind-- a connection Mara can't deny, as much as she'd like to-- stops her short.]

[It's an unforgivable lapse, and she tries to bridge the gap with more anger.] Yes. Me. The newest captive.

[polyphonos]

Ah.

[Yes, that's occasionally the sentiment. She says it patiently, a mother largely unconcerned yet sympathetic.] Yes, we imagine it might feel that way. Is there something we can do to make you more comfortable here, Mara?

[Perhaps not refer to her by name without introduction, but no - that's a statement as calculated as the rest of it. Sometimes it can be helpful to trigger an emotional response in the volatile - she feels that way along the connection between them, a low growl of anger and resentment and-- Better to release it and move past it.]

b

[shiro2hero]

[This is the face of a man who is idly browsing store windows in hopes of getting some physical distance between himself and the rest of... everyone... Because even though he knows it won't actually help, he can hope. At least Shiro finally shed his armor and put on real clothes -- and at least those the Nest(?) handed out actually cover his arm.]

[He's contemplating the dangers of using the credit card in his back pocket for the completely useless purchase of a tiny cat figurine. Apparently customizable -- apparently with minor AI and in a variety of colors, the sign exclaims, when the familiar feeling skitters over his senses, and he's turning, stiffening up out of sheer reflex and--]

Hi--?

[Even when she slams a lid on her annoyance, his head rocks back like he's been physically struck. And he's stepping several paces away from her. Keep your distance maybe she can't do it again --]

... yes. One of you. Sorry to disappoint.

[snaphiss]

[Mara is perceptive in a way that comes from constant paranoia. She notices how he staggers backward first, takes immediate note of either a threat or a weakness. What happened?]

[His words are a distant second, though she stows those away as well. (One of you? Has he bought into their rhetoric? How long has he been here? Will she end up like him?)]

What happened? [She doesn't expect him to admit a weakness, but she intends to pry the truth out of him regardless. And if it's a threat, well, it's a threat to them both.] What did you sense?

[shiro2hero]

... You. Mostly.

Just be careful in the future, all right? Not everyone's open to having things shoved at them.

[Like him, for example. Like now, for example.]

[If he moves away from her, it won't really lessen the feeling, but it makes him feel better. If nothing else.]

B

[batmotif]

[Bruce Wayne has been trying to get a feel for Concordia since his arrival, and the results have been relatively smooth thus far. The feel of the city is just metropolitan enough for him to fit right in, though he lacks the technological augmentations of many of the natives he's seen thus far. Even so, it's easy enough for him to blend into the crowd, and while he's found some of the streets and sidewalks and business districts indelibly full, today seems to be more manageable than most.

He's in what he can only assume is the equivalent of an arts district right now when he's approached by Mara. And when Bruce hears the decidedly enthusiastic greeting (or at least, the start of one), his response is almost involuntary; a shift in his demeanor, prepping a charismatic smile, all for the sake of keeping his cover.

But then the words "It's one of you" is accompanied with the strange familiarity of another host, another one bound to Nest as much as he was. The smile fades into something lopsided and skeptical as he turns to face her. He doesn't recognize the woman, but that isn't surprising; he hasn't had the pleasure of meeting everyone from the Nest just yet.

His demeanor is caught mid-shift, and thus permeates as an odd mix of immediate wit and plain seriousness.]

I don't think I've ever offended someone so quickly, and by doing so little.

[well hi to you too.]

[snaphiss]

[Mara rolls her eyes. Her veneer falls aside as well, revealing a sour expression and a bitter tone,] Oh, don't be so sensitive. I'm sure you've disappointed plenty of people before.

[As first impressions go, it's... really one of her better ones.]

[batmotif]

[w o w

Mere seconds ago, Bruce was on the edge of waffling between his charismatic persona versus his decidedly more standoffish one. Now he has cleanly fallen to one side, and it isn't Playboy Billionaire Bruce Wayne™.

The look he gives is unimpressed by her words, brow creasing juuust enough to betray a sense of annoyance. His retort is plain but quick. And edged in sarcasm.]

Just like I'm sure you're quick to collect friends with your shining personality.

[pot meet kettle]

a

[wrackful]

[Murphy's been looking for a view outside, a window or a door. He knows space well enough to know there isn't a way out, but something in him wants confirmation, wants sight of stars and darkness. He wonders if it should feel like coming home. If he could even think of the Ark like that.

This place wasn't anything like the Ark, anyway. The emptiness of the corridors, the quiet behind the walls all kept it from that. Even being alone in the forest never quite felt like this, and Murphy doesn't realise that his feet are following the draw of other more than his exploration attempts. He isn't expecting to run into anyone else, and her voice startles him in a way he isn't happy to be showing. Isn't happy that she'd probably know anyway.]

Me. [He bounces it back, dry, holding for unimpressed in his tone even as internally he's bristling at having to interact with her.] What do you want?

[snaphiss]

[She feels his jump, and it quickens her heartbeat. For a half second, she's shocked, before she realizes the emotions she feels aren't hers.]

[But once she recovers (it only takes a moment), she can at least appreciate how he keeps his outward cool.]

I want you to get out of my head, [she snaps, arms folding in font of her. She doesn't want to touch him, that might strengthen the bond.] Baring that, your name might be helpful.

[She suspects she might be able to read it off him if she focuses. She doesn't want to.]

[wrackful]

[A smile twists Murphy's mouth, bitter humour catching. Getting out of her head is a sentiment he can get behind.]

Yeah, good luck with that. [They're stuck like this. He doesn't know enough to know if there's any give in that, any chance of getting out of this.] Murphy.

[John echoes in his mind, but he doesn't offer it.]

b

[tropism]

Hello.

[ he senses that flash of annoyance, before it was withdrawn quickly. giorno tilts his head at her; hers is a face that is not familiar to him. it only occurs to him after that she is new, though he wasn't expecting someone to come this soon.

as far as fake identities go, his is nothing special. student, teenager. mara's reaction is typical of how most adults around here talk to him, so it doesn't bother him the slightest. ]

Welcome, I suppose.

[snaphiss]

[Mara glowers, amused.] You keep on like that, I'll bore my readers.

[She puts the datapad away.] I wasn't expecting to run into so many of you here. Don't you have anything better to do?

c2

[frakkincylons]

[ Sam isn't here often, and the fact he is now is likely do to trying to hunt down another Nestmate, maybe yell at Petre for being a shit, look around for Angel, something or other. Not for Bout It Out itself, given he didn't have much interest in it.

He had seen Mara doing her thing, and recognized her as one of the new hosts from the last batch of them, but gave her space. That doesn't stop her from ending up in a conversation with him anyway, as he lingers around waiting for a drink (maybe been doing that a bit too much lately, but old habits etc etc). Raising his brows at her, Sam blinks from the woman, over to the tables he hadn't been paying any attention to, and back again. ]

Uh, no idea. I like real sports. [ nar har har, let's talk smug pride. ]

[snaphiss]

[Mara is in one of her rare good moods. She likes winning, likes fighting, likes being betted on to win. So it's with amused skepticism rather than annoyance that she asks,] Oh, really? And what are real sports?

[frakkincylons]

[ If it helps, it's fairly clear he's smack talking just to smack talk. he doesn't have anything against the game, really, but he knows what jonesing for an ego boost looks like. Nothing wrong with that, but it's worth heckling. After all, he wasn't the most modest of Pyramid players back home, either. Back when that all still meant something. ]

Oh, you know. [ He shrugs, put upon dismissal. ] The kind that takes some actual athleticism. Something more than teenage boys with big imaginations can do. You meet 'Charlie Hellsing' yet?

[ meaning Petre. Petre and his BiO champ obsession. Precious little insane Petre. ]