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Entry tags:
- *hatch log,
- aoba seragaki [dramatical murder],
- bellamy blake [the 100],
- bruce wayne [batman:telltale],
- clint barton [mcu],
- john murphy [the 100],
- kate bishop [marvel 616],
- lexa [the 100],
- mara jade [star wars: legends],
- nathaniel horn [original],
- peter parker [the amazing spider-man],
- pidge gunderson (katie holt) [voltron],
- remus lupin [harry potter],
- sam alexander [marvel 616],
- sam anders [battlestar galactica],
- sam wilson [mcu],
- steve rogers [mcu],
- the darkling [grisha trilogy]
[hatch log] +1, +2, +3, ...+4?
CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: DAY :35 - :36
SUMMARY: Another hatch occurs on the Station; new hosts arrive on Concordia and make their way to Bearings - along with a special guest.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.
YOU WAKE UP and you will never be the person you were a moment ago. --No. Not a moment. It's been a while, hasn't it? Something feels different. You know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye.
Which might explain how you ended up here: lying in a small faintly hexagonal chamber, a gentle white light emanating from the surrounding walls. It might also explain why any injuries you might have experienced immediately before your escape are also well on their way to being healed. There's something strangely peaceful about waking up here and that feeling persists as you find the tube running from the base of your neck to the compartment's rear wall. But when you disconnect the tube-- Things get loud. A wave of emotion fills the void. Fear, uncertainty, relief, a sense of purpose or loneliness or anxiety; maybe some of these emotions are yours, but they can't all be. After the initial sensory overload, the mental buzz elongates: stretches out into a murmur like the sound of a party behind a closed door.
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. Drop down the ladder to the floor of the Nesting Deck and you’ll find you’re not alone - and that those sounds in your head are louder. Other people’s thoughts swim up: some of them might seem clear, but most of them are a jumbled mess. Every single person here feels like someone you should be familiar with, someone you somehow know. They might look like strangers, but there's something about them that's absolutely vital on a cellular level.
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 your brood members, 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 plans are being put into motion. Stealth missions are being plotted, espionage-laden ploys are being quietly organized, and somewhere Sam Alexander is probably puking into a bucket. If you aren't following someone suspicious - well, maybe you should be? It definitely seems to be in vogue.
But it can't all be derring-do and covert operations; early on Day 35, Carata disappears. Nirad says she's gone to the Station. "I don't know how many more times we'll be able to do this. Someone's going to notice the ship and start asking questions." And maybe some of those questions might lead someone their way. After all, they haven't exactly been keeping a low profile have they?
((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. Any threads on Concordia can be open to both new and old hosts!
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.))
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: DAY :35 - :36
SUMMARY: Another hatch occurs on the Station; new hosts arrive on Concordia and make their way to Bearings - along with a special guest.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.
YOU WAKE UP and you will never be the person you were a moment ago. --No. Not a moment. It's been a while, hasn't it? Something feels different. You know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye.
Which might explain how you ended up here: lying in a small faintly hexagonal chamber, a gentle white light emanating from the surrounding walls. It might also explain why any injuries you might have experienced immediately before your escape are also well on their way to being healed. There's something strangely peaceful about waking up here and that feeling persists as you find the tube running from the base of your neck to the compartment's rear wall. But when you disconnect the tube-- Things get loud. A wave of emotion fills the void. Fear, uncertainty, relief, a sense of purpose or loneliness or anxiety; maybe some of these emotions are yours, but they can't all be. After the initial sensory overload, the mental buzz elongates: stretches out into a murmur like the sound of a party behind a closed door.
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. Drop down the ladder to the floor of the Nesting Deck and you’ll find you’re not alone - and that those sounds in your head are louder. Other people’s thoughts swim up: some of them might seem clear, but most of them are a jumbled mess. Every single person here feels like someone you should be familiar with, someone you somehow know. They might look like strangers, but there's something about them that's absolutely vital on a cellular level.
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 your brood members, 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 plans are being put into motion. Stealth missions are being plotted, espionage-laden ploys are being quietly organized, and somewhere Sam Alexander is probably puking into a bucket. If you aren't following someone suspicious - well, maybe you should be? It definitely seems to be in vogue.
But it can't all be derring-do and covert operations; early on Day 35, Carata disappears. Nirad says she's gone to the Station. "I don't know how many more times we'll be able to do this. Someone's going to notice the ship and start asking questions." And maybe some of those questions might lead someone their way. After all, they haven't exactly been keeping a low profile have they?
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, the rest of your brood is waiting for you.
IN CONCORDIA
AS NIGHT FALLS IN CONCORDIA, the transport drops into atmosphere and lands in an gutted strip of an industrial waste facility. Once everyone's disembarked, the transport lifts off of its own volition and winks out of sight as its stealth routines come back online. A few minutes later, a transport van arrives being driven by a stoic android. Carata and the other new hosts pile in. It's a long drive to the Bearings Apartment Block, but it feels undeniably like home when they finally reach the Level 13 living space. New hosts are invited to make themselves comfortable. There are as of yet unclaimed rooms, each of which features a customizable digital display wall (pick your color or wallpaper!); there's a fully stocked kitchen (if someone took time to do the grocery shopping) and a great view overlooking Beta Block from the common room. Get familiar with the other hosts, take a well deserved nap or--
JUST KIDDING.
In the excitement of new hosts arriving, it might be easy to miss it when the powerlift drops back to the lobby a few hours after the arrival of the new hosts. But it's impossible to overlook the android that arrives on Level 13 when it returns. It's stripped down to its most basic parts: a metallic skeleton with a featureless face plate and bright blue ocular inputs, sparks flashing through its internal synthetic viscera like firing synapses.
It looks like a nightmare.
Its jaw unhinges: "I'm looking for Sim Anderson," it says and then abruptly powers down.
((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. Any threads on Concordia can be open to both new and old hosts!
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.))
no subject
This power isn't a stream to stem, it's an all encompassing light. Mental walls shift from ruddy brick, to dark steel, to a nameless, sleek metal - even that isn't strong enough to fully withstand the force. His skin dampens with sweat, the pressure at his temples making him see the stars that threaten to pierce his senses. ]
Don't - [ It's a warning through grit teeth, directed at Bellamy a second too late to stop the contact. ]
no subject
Needless to say, she has done none of that since joining the Nest.)
It's Steve's don't, his warning, that makes her lunge forward, fingers wrapping tightly around Bellamy's arm to try to pull him away.
Only after she grabs his arm to secure him does it occur to her that she might be hurt in the process.
But it also doesn't make her immediately let go.]
no subject
[ and sometimes Anders can be weirdly lucid when like this, apologies to Sam Wilson for the awkward name drop. the focus going into all of this has become singularly intense, having found a hook and following the line attached to it. but then, the world is narrow down to a pinpoint; a single electron withing a molecule of a grain of sand on an endless beach - bellamy blake.
the moment the foreign hand touches his shoulder, Sam's arm snaps up, fingers curling around Bellamy's wrist with an inhuman strength that doesn't abate, crushing and grinding bone together, though not yet breaking. which is likely more due to the distraction of all that's just been shoved into the sequence of endless mental multitasking inside Sam's head. the one hand still touching the droid seems to both shake and grip harder at the metal, as his rambling narrative turns insistent, towards the interruption. what was one of the three things he told you all not to do? hint: this. ]
Three hundred culled in the wake of one, another number for the ones who had a name, will you know your enemy by their color or your fear, nascent future fed to the toxic promised land, churns and sickens. Data-font synchronization complete, begin reintegration of command subroutines. Panic painted as punishment painted as interdiction cloaked as paramount illusion - cut the fuse. [ the grip tightens, and twists, as if that helps him reach deeper into the lay of time that's composed bellamy blake into the existence that touches his mind now. what presses into the man's mind is loud. a playback of all the most poignant moments in his life in vivid reality, like a surgeon pulling his memory apart and plucking the strings of it. with the added fun of the yawning howl of the void that is eternity somewhere in the background. it's not a great time. ] Mark Antony at the foot of Octavius turned Augustus, et tu, soror weeps the child king's splintered obstinence. Hopes soaring to slaughter all their best in the fires of trepidatious forgemasters, the sky rains steel and sulfur on the wailing forest. Potassium nitrate once meant to fertilize fuels rockets and decay, soaked layers of soil and sediment archive the sins in eternity she will not forgive, end of line.
[ And then another is added - Heda Leksa kom Tri Kru, with the force of her convictions and the chasm of her loss like a banshee's scream racing through his mind, further blurring. ]
The adored fault line carved into the vulnerable core sundered from what ice has stolen - buried, risen, buried again. Compartmentalize integrity conflicts with the obligation to shepherd the flock. Never again, never again, mourning commands the throne with desperation waiting in the wings. Bloodline rising as a fault to correct a fault to correct a fault, we do not apologize for how we chose to survive-- [ something within the several thousand layers of processes going on in Sam's head snaps, and his hand on Bellamy's wrist grips hard enough that something might start fracturing, before starting to abruptly loosen. ] Microfractures compromise resolution matrices, breaking force of a radius with a cross sectional area of 89mm is roughly 25MPa, end of line. Let go, grounders.
[ that means you too, bellamy. he's trying to work, fuck off. ]
http://i.imgur.com/6rDeRyu.png
It's painful. Everything's laid bare, riffled through, translated into a jumble of words that cut knife-deep as Bellamy pieces them together. Lexa's hand is tight, as much an anchor as the rising pain in his wrist. Physical pain is easier to deal with. It always has been and always will be. Something's breaking but Bellamy knows how to bear up under the dull flare of agony as it climbs up his arm better than how to shut down his reaction to Sam's presence in his head, tearing into every aspect of his life.
She will not forgive lands heavily, punctuated by increased pressure on his wrist. Bellamy cries out wordlessly, momentarily struggling with the dual urges to break away and to push forward harder, retaliation spurred on by hurt. The former wins out, wins over the shock of being called a grounder and the spill of words that must be for Lexa. He wrenches his wrist free, staggers back a step with a gasp.
There's blood on his face, trickling from his nose, wet in his ringing ears. His vision blurs, but he doesn't stumble any farther back. Self-preservation instincts clearly only go so far with Bellamy. ]
no subject
Only bring dragged back, feet metaphorically bloodied, leaves her feeling the guilt that she's stifled and muted, thrown away so that she can't be caught up in it. It's years of guilt, going back to one moment—
the image that flashes out isn't just one, but several: Lexa's hair being braided by a girl with dark hair and brown skin, bright but focused eyes, and a serious mouth. Lexa turning toward her and kissing her, Lexa training with her watching on, knowing that she's about to have to fight the others around her to the death to claim her spot as the commander, Titus watching on and knowing that she is the best choice, if only she didn't love so strongly, because even then, he reminded her that her love would be her weakness, Lexa coming into her quarters, all the candles snuffed out, only to light one after another and see the blood, and then the head of that very same girl, and Lexa having to see Nia bow at her feet, chin proud, in spite of all the hatred stirring in her heart
—the wall begins to rebuild moments after, tears welled in her eyes as she realizes her hand is still latched on to Bellamy's arm, fingernails digging in to the bicep with what can be nothing more than an increased force. But it's not before the guilt from Costia's death returns, slamming into her, and almost debilitating her on her feet. Swimming in her thoughts about what has been lost is what she prefers not to do, but the barriers, shaky as they've always been, were nothing, dragged out and put on display due to the perfect storm of what has passed.
In what is a show of her training, she frees Bellamy's arm but doesn't stray from him, eyes closing as she experiences a sharp intake of breath.
When her eyes snap back open, she reaches for Bellamy's elbow, voice just above a whisper to hold back the choking feeling in her throat. Lexa has known the dangers of repression since arriving at the Nest, has known that she only has so many barriers to what lies in her head, but she is damning herself for it just the same. Still, he's her people, and he's hurt:] Your wrist. We need to tend to it.
no subject
[He's frozen momentarily, watching in slight shock as Bellamy does what Nathaniel believes is an entirely stupid thing to do. Whatever Sam is doing, you don't mess with that. You don't interrupt it. And as Bellamy pulls away, Nathaniel stands up to put himself between Bellamy and Lexa and Sam, gritting his teeth as he speaks, his voice low:]
Y-you know...how about we just back off from the man, alright? Go get your wrist fixed and leave him alone.
no subject
[Another body stepping in between, Murphy keeping steady, cold eye contact with Nataniel. It's drawing on an attitude he doesn't really have, right now, but he can make a good show of it, stall out any chance of Bellamy or Lexa feeling the need to rise to this challenge instead. There's been enough stupidity - ongoing, in Murphy's opinion, but he isn't going to copy Bellamy's try at breaking up the robot whatever going on.
His hand's on Bellamy's shoulder instead, pushing him and Lexa back and away from the whole gathering. Maybe further, if he can manage it.]
no subject
S-sam... how much longer?
[ He might not be heard or even understood right now, but there's a migraine coming on as a result of all the commotion. One he can't hold back on sharing with the class for very long. ]
no subject
All right, no, not Bellamy, because Bellamy's off doing who the hell knows what, touching Anders like that, and Steve's cut off don't only reinforces Sam's opinion that it's probably a terrible idea. And it goes about as well as Sam'd expected, although he stays the hell out of it until Bellamy's friends are pulling him away and talking about getting his wrist fixed.
He'd been staying a reasonable distance away from Anders, but now he heads in closer to try to get the attention of Bellamy and those around him. ]
Bellamy. Come here, man, I can heal it.
no subject
Regulates.
Flash. Hold. Flash. Hold. Flash--
The skeletal mass of the android twitches - jerks. The light behind its occular inputs comes online. It's painfully bright without the synthetic gel eyeball over it, the eyelids. A grinding noise whirs up from behind the ribs then that too winds down and evens out.
A long moment of just metallic noise, then it melds into:]
Where...am... [click click click] I?
no subject
Hold, the remedy is worse than the disease. [ Possibly a note to Aoba and his migraine, possibly just Sam being weird. But he's almost done, it hurts but it's for the better. ] Upper senses, repair ordered relay to zero zero zero zero and purge corruption, come in on the low tide - all the forgotten children and all the forgotten faces, a language to seek through the eons, through maker and maker again, old eyes watch the cycle, the cycle, the cycle. Structural integrity of cranial nodes restored, skeletal fractures sealing in seven, six, five pillars with gospel carved are dried bones of faith, whispers of souls passed. New paragraph. Formatting, the mind is it's own place, conceptualized complex ideas in limiting words, the human brain is an electrical grid, binds the thoughts in tight sheaves in the field. All these things at once and many more, end of line.
[ The android starts to jerk to life again, in slow, staggered steps - flash, hold, flash, hold. Sam goes on, and seems to relax a bit, if you can really call any of what's going on right now relaxing, but some things he rambles out now, you may have heard from him before if you've seen him do this here, repeated. some only sam would really know the root of, whispers of his own world and a life he's left behind. ] Flickering flame and astral dust scattered through the heavens in death's wake the tools of creation, all that is was not, all that is not will be. Sensory input at base levels, optimized, spark shot into gasoline. The recipe for life everlasting requires the slaying of time, of significance, secrets of Lazarus scattered to the cosmic winds. Eternity engraved in code to worship at the temple's new pillars in networked security. Only the end makes them whole. A star eyed son, a prophet in the counting house, a hand made of scars. The shepherd wears a crown of diamonds.
[ Another set of things repeated from before, just as the droid comes back online, all metallic clicking and ungraceful waking, asking where it is. Unfortunately, Sam isn't really together enough to give a clear, verbal answer, but the android will be feeling a touch of something nurturing and warm with reassurance from his presence within it's mind, fond in the way parents and caretakers are, hands almost gentle on the metal. ]
To have her please, just one day wake, be spared the pain that comes from a dark and laughing reign. [ Something else from home, if you're paying very close attention, it's almost a tiny tiny bit sing-song. ] Calm. Cease countdown, cease countdown. Each man is questioned by life, he can only answer to life by answering for his own life. Core update complete. Thank you, thank you. Functions offline in three, two, one--
[ and then Sam does what he always does at the end of these little trances: he goes limp and passes right the fuck out. if one of his broodmates or someone experienced with this could reassure the rest of the room that he isn't dead or a vegetable, that'd be great. ]
no subject
Sam's on the floor, Steve's got enough control of his legs again that he shifts over to where his broodmate drops to the floor, kneeling next to him.
The concern resonating from him isn't that of immediate fear for Sam's life. The guy's breathing, just unconscious. ]
The Bearings. [ Answer to the question. His gaze darts from Sam, to android he resuscitated, to the others still standing nearby. ]
no subject
Sam passed out (the reaction of those who know him is not severe enough for Bruce to believe it's worse than that), a broodmate injured (the nerves in his wrist scream about hairline fractures, a pain that's been borrowed via mental link), the android clicking back to life, a swirl of both confusion and anticipation hanging in the air.
Bruce steps forward, concern knitting his brows together, his mouth pressed into a thin frown. He looks at the android, now active, and hopes that it's functionally cognizant enough to answer a simple question:]
What's the meaning of all this?
no subject
Honestly, Sam isn't exactly sure what the hell happened, but he knows his symbiote ability works to heal as well as to wake people the hell up. And right about now, he'd really rather Anders be up and dealing with their intruder. ]
Gimme a sec and you can ask Sam what the hell.
[ He crouches down on Anders' other side, glancing over at Steve. ] Gotta show off my party trick, huh?
[ There's a moment as he sends out a heads up to his brood and Clint what he's doing, just in case, and then he sets his hand down on Sam Anders' shoulder. There's a flash of warmth as his symbiote ability kicks in, and he tries to focus on that - before pain flares in his mind as he heals Anders.
And then Sam's down, mind going blank as he slumps into unconsciousness. ]
no subject
Oh, come on, dude!
[ He ducks under someone's arm to slip forward and grab Sam's arm. ]
You know I'm the worst person to drag you back to bed.
[ Being annoyed is easier than being worried, okay. ]
no subject
welp
With the third Sam joining in, Steve shifts a bit to get on that side of things, pulling one of Wilson's arms around his own shoulders to help get him back on his feet. They can move him to the sofa. He shouldn't be down that long, at least. ] C'mon -
no subject
with Sam Wilson's added boost to healing, it helps the symbiote repair his mind from the damage the hybrid state inflicts, and rather than blinking awake slowly, he's more jolting into consciousness, babbling a bit of nonsense as his eyes blink rapidly - like being dumped into an ice bath as a morning wake up call. ] Rabbits and falcons out of a hat-- What? I'm good, I'm here. ...What?
[ what.
oh.
right.
A quick glance to his side, he spots Wilson, blinking at him a bit owlishly, confused, but understanding that he'd woken him up in some way. he isn't hurt, they'd all know if he was hurt, so Anders looks back to the droid. right. right. ]
Frak. [ he whispers, and crawls upright to scamper over to his side again, leaning over to peer at the android too bright eyes, a hand on the skeletal structure of his shoulder, and after a breathless, tense moment, he ventures to guess, in a quiet whisper - ] ...Kellix?
no subject
He doesn't blink because he's incapable of it. He doesn't raise his head from the floor for the moment either, but he believes he might be able to.]
Yes correct. [A pause. Processing.] I'm sorry I frightened you.