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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
Knowing whether Clint Barton was alive was not. ]
Are you kidding me!? Don't pull that crap on me now, Clint. It is not the time. [ Do I know you. Today has been too bizarre for her to deal with his escapist method on confronting situations. Even with a weird robot across the room that's thrown everything off balance for everyone.
All Kate can think is, he's not dead. ] What the hell happened to you?
when will i run out of relateable gifs
At least this time doesn't have mindcontrol--wait.
This is all just a bit too strange, and Clint makes a living dealing with strange shit. The line of his mouth thins further, utter bewilderment filling his face as he leans back a bit from the sheer force of her anger. It's there, full frontal, seeping into the thread of his mind, somehow still sharp against muted eardrums. Right up until she says his name, and Clint's entire being tenses, shifts, gaze focusing raptor sharp. The curve of her face, the shape of her eyes, mouth, nose, the fall of her hair -- he looks, trying to figure out how she knows him. But nothing, nothing. ]
Ok, hold up-- [ Too sharp, she can probably feel his mind racing, searching--] I get it, scary new place, weird ass robots, but I still don't know you, kid.
no subject
But after thinking your partner dead and then actually finding him, only for him to pretend he doesn't know you. That she wouldn't adjust to.
She steps up closer to him, waving her arms. ]
Really? Kid? Don't lie to me! You know damn well that I'm —
[ And then she begins to see it. Kate usually had an eye for detail, even more so since she woke up as if her senses had somehow heightened. But with her frustration, she'd practically turned it off or subconsciously chose not to notice the strangeness of it. But she sees it now. The deepened creases in his skin, the few strands of gray, the entire sensation of his presence — he's older. Maybe ten years, give or take a few.
Her arms drop to her sides, blinking at him, her voice calmer. ] Clint. It's Kate.
no subject
God, she just looks so lost. Clint's heart suddenly aches, there behind the cage of his ribs, and he lets the tension in his spine ease, careful, cautious. Once, not too many years ago, he'd been the one cornering a dangerous young woman. She should have died at his hands, the arrow pointed at her the last thing she'd seen. But he'd made a different call all those years ago. Trusting the way his gut told him no. Not Natalia Romanova, not here, not now. It'd been the best damn decision he'd ever made.
Here, now, Clint had planned to get his information and go, keep out of sight of this angry young woman, hoping she wouldn't spill into his mind and rifle through. But something....Something about Kate makes him think of a too young assassin, all sharp angles and dulled eyes, and he pulls back. Inhales, quick, exhales, slow. The lines of his face soften, hands loose at his sides. ]
I'm sorry.
[ Not unkindly, but, what else can he say? ]
no subject
Which meant this wasn't her Clint. Her Clint could still be dead for all she knew.
She should be used to multiple universes by now. She spent months hopping through them with her friends and meeting varied version of even herself, including the bizarre but literal Kate Hawks where birds with her face felt it a good idea to attack her in all their madness. So this shouldn't be any different. A different Clint from a different universe. She'd gotten too hopeful and it threw her off her game.
But she builds up the wall again, trying to do away with the hurt and disappointment, trying her best to wash that away from anywhere in her mental link (she doesn't). But she straightens herself and clears her throat. ]
Right. That's ... fine. Multiple universes. It's a thing. See it all the time. You're a different Clint. I get it. [ Tooootally gets it. She shrugs. This is fine. ] I'm Kate. Kate Bishop. Hawkeye.
no subject
She clears her throat, straightens up with a sense of poise Clint could never copy, and Clint near flinches at the grief that suckerpunches him. Hers, he knows, the reaching grasp of her mind slipping past his barriers. That can't be faked, the sheer depth of emotion singing between them. He'd already been coming around to the idea that she knows him, but this is something else entirely. She knew Clint Barton, but who was he to this girl?
The glassy sheen to her eyes sends a pang of regret through him. Clint doesn't know her, that's true, but he hadn't meant to make her cry. Still, she's clearly strong enough to push it aside, focus on the here and now even -- even if it's still weird ok. But he takes her at her word. ]
Hawkeye? [ His brows lift, surprised. Awkward, tentative. ] Am I not...?
[ Clint doesn't have his bow on him right now, but some part of him suddenly wants the familiar weight of his quiver between his shoulderblades. ]
no subject
But Kate keeps a high head, her facial features disguising the lingering discomfort that she burrows further away from the surface.
His question is expected, so she shrugs a shoulder. ] You're still Hawkeye. But so am I. We have a bit of a sharing policy on it. [ And because Kate still has a big mouth that she lets run off on its own, ] Your fault for being dead at the time when Cap knighted me with it — don't worry, it wasn't for long, you came back. [ Though maybe not anymore. Kate keeps that thought out of sight. ] You let me keep it. We're both Hawkeye.
no subject
Kate resettles, head held high, hiding heartbreak behind poise. Clint can't do anything but follow suit, hands slipping into pockets, mind prickling with unease, but slowly settling. ]
Right, uh -- well if Cap thought it fit then I won't argue. [ He wasn't going to, anyway. Hawkeye was a title Clint's had for decades, but despite his own flippancy when it comes to his place on the Avengers, it's not easy to match his sight and accuracy. If that Steve Rogers is the same as his, he wouldn't have half-assedly tossed it around.
It's also weird to think that uh. He was dead. ]
You're part of the team, then? Did I actually manage to retire?
[ A bad joke, such a bad joke. One hand lifts and scrubs awkwardly at the nape of his neck. ]
no subject
(And something feels blue somewhere. Which is disappointing. Needs to be more purple.)
Oh. A bad joke, for sure. But surprisingly enough, a smile curves on her face, biting it from the inside to keep it from going too wide. ]
Retire. That's cute. [ Meaning no, and more precisely, never. The tenseness in her body loosens, but only slight, a sigh escaping her. ] If by team, you mean Avengers, then yeah. Though we're all kind of split right now to be calling it one collective team. Everyone's got a difference of opinion.
[ Yeah, and no one invited her to any of them. Rude. ]
How old are you anyway, gramps?
no subject
Yeah, well, Clint hadn't really expected a yes. One corner of his mouth quirks up, briefly amused, before resettling once she finishes the thought. Could they not have their shit together in even one world? ]
Don't I know it. [ A grumble, lingering bitterness over the Accords, the fights, freaking Oceantanamo curling in his mind. Kate's proving remarkably good at cheering him up though -- Clint grins, a huff of laughter caught against the calcite of his teeth. ] Old enough. Shouldn't you be heading to daycare, anyway?
no subject
If her world's Clint has a future. He has to. ]
Yeah, when aren't they fighting, right? [ This has become rather traditional, really. Probably ever since her world's Civil War, the dispute between Steve and Tony driving a permanent line that resulted in one enormous team forever settling into countless smaller ones — New Avengers, Secret Avengers, Mighty Avengers, Uncanny Avengers, Young Avengers. Everyone had to have some sort of adjective.
His grin is contagious, forcing one of her own to slowly trickle into existence, one corner of her mouth quirking upwards. ] Daycare? Laugh all you want. But I'm twenty-one and can make you weep with archery like you have no idea. But be my guest. Underestimate me all you like, boss.
[ Smug ass smirk. Boss. Guess that's back too. ]
no subject
But that sounds kind of boring anyway. What would he be if he didn't have his archery, or Natasha, or hell the rest of the team? Even if this entire fight might have put a rift between them all. Kate speaks true, though. They've fought since the very beginning, Loki barely needing to set the rest at each other's throats before Clint blew the helicarrier to shit.
Oh -- she's cocky as hell. This is familiar ground, far easier to stand on than the earlier mess. A smirk to match Kate's own curls at Clint's mouth, and he comes to a split decision. She's young, but she's older than he was at the start. ]
That right? Then put your money where your mouth is, Bishop.
[ ARCHERY OFF ARCHERY OFF. ]
no subject
Her bow and quiver are latched to her back, having kept it on her for the purposes of not knowing what sort of predicaments might slip up on her first day in a new city. It was probably a good call.
She reaches behind her, tapping the top of her bow. ]
Know a good place for target practice, Barton? Make sure there's good lighting so you can see clearly when I kick your ass.
[ Damn straight, son. ]
no subject
Yeah, he's more than a little pleased with his spur of the moment decision now. The weight of his own bow and quiver is a familiar one, and Clint doesn't bother draw any attention to it anyway. Soon enough. ]
What, you can't shoot blind?
[ He retorts, already starting to head off. There might be a little pep in his step, shhh. ]
no subject
Even if her posture continues to appear collected (because she is an ADULT, darn it!!), there really is a kid inside of her right now, ready to get to shooing.
Her eyes roll but she manages a smirk, accustomed to this sort of banter. ]
A good Hawkeye doesn't reveal her secrets. [ She ha no idea where he's going but she follows, crossing her arms and pretending to not be as excited as she really is in her head. Too bad there isn't a lot of space for pretend here. ] It's okay. I'll let you enjoy your smack talk. It'll be worth seeing the adorable embarrassment later.
no subject
This though. If Kate's what she says she is -- and he's guessing so, from the way she holds herself, the easy weight of that quiver on her back, the way her eyes gleam -- well, then this is a whole other beast. ]
Oh I'm adorable now, huh? [ He grins, wolfish, leading the way easily. ] How 'bout we put a bet on it then.
no subject
[ But she's hardly criticizing and more pleased than anything. At him? At herself? At all of this all of a sudden. Oddly enough, even with everything as out of place as it is, she's finally coming across something that just makes sense. Or at least gives the illusion of it.
Normally, Kate would be a little more sensible about facing the reality of a situation. But considering the circumstances, she'll give an exception to this one.
Even though she has no idea where she's going, she walks beside him rather than behind. Force of habit. ] There something good to bet on in this place? Like good coffee? I haven't had a cup since I got here and I'm about to be the one to go rampant.
no subject
Space coffee ain't bad. [ He totally feels her though, even if Clint would be ok with SHIELD's shitty coffee that unfortunately rivaled cop coffee. Phil used to always have the good stuff. Clint had once made a joke about pouring a cup out for Phil -- Natasha had kicked him. ]
You win, I'll even make you something fancy.
[ Still, it isn't that far of a walk, and soon enough they're at the range. It's not as good as the one Tony'd built into his Tower, but decent enough. He's been coming here enough that the kid at the counter just nods and waves them through, going back to skimming the web. Probably not the most model worker -- but suits Clint just fine. Don't ask him questions, he won't ask either. ]
no subject
[ Of course talking about it makes her think about it and for a brief moment, her mind flashes to thoughts of Noh-Varr's spaceship, of being surrounded by friends munching on pancakes they'd picked up from a diner on a Skrull sister planet, of Kate gazing out into the darkness of space with its flicker of distant stars, all while holding on to a warm cup.
She raises a brow, interested. ] I didn't know you did fancy.
[ Not in her memories. Not if you count managing a coffee spillage after making every pot.
Walking into the range is all that she could dream of. It's not like being in one isn't common ground for her, but it's not the sort of place she'd expected to stumble upon while being here. Stepping ahead to gaze around, she spins on her heel to face him, pursing her lips. ] Okay. And in the imaginary world where you have a slight chance of winning, what would you want?
no subject
You win, I'll tell you a story too, kiddo. [ Guess who jumped from wary to teasing and faintly fond way too quickly? This guy.
Still, he sees the way she settles, something easier in the way she stands. Yeah, he'd felt that too when he'd found the place that first time. Repurposed or not, it's still more than he expected, and Clint's maybe a bit gleeful at being able to share this with someone who'll appreciate it. ] What, no offer of fancy coffee?
[ He's definitely just teasing now. There's a mock thoughtful pause, tapping at his mouth with calloused fingertips. ]
How 'bout we keep it simple to start. Loser has to answer three questions?