![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
[hatch log] into the garbage chute, flyboy(s)
CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: DAY :43 - :44
SUMMARY: New hosts hatch on the Station; their arrival on Concordia is bumpier and smellier than usual.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.
YOU WAKE UP and nothing will ever be the same again. A moment ago you were somewhere familiar - or familiar enough; now you're lying in a small faintly hexagonal chamber lit by a gentle white light emanating from the surrounding walls. You can't shake the sensation that you've been asleep for a long, long time.
The sluggishness of coming out of a deep, dreamless sleep persists all the way until you disconnect the tube running from the compartment's rear wall to the base of your neck. Then 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. Somewhere, someone else is feeding their thoughts and emotions into your mind. On the plus side, it's easy to follow that digging, familiar sensation to each other. After all, you're part of the same brood. You belong together.
Welcome to Station 72. Sirius and Kavinsky will have one day aboard the Station to acclimate to their new reality before they're whisked away to Concordia to join the rest of the young hosts. Get to know one another, ask some burning questions; in a day's time you'll be boarding a shuttle and going somewhere far, far away.
MEANWHILE IN CONCORDIA, the host's espionage efforts are coming to a head. Preparations for infiltrating Public Security HQ are in full swing, a handful of hosts are planning to get in close with Representative Goram Saffit himself and there's currently a semi-functional android taking up one of the beds of the Bearings apartment block. Honestly, there's more than enough on everyone's plate without piling new hosts on top of it all. But that doesn't stop Nirad from disappearing when he's called to return to the Station. Presumably, this means everyone better get ready to debrief some new arrivals soon...
((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 :43 - :44
SUMMARY: New hosts hatch on the Station; their arrival on Concordia is bumpier and smellier than usual.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.
YOU WAKE UP and nothing will ever be the same again. A moment ago you were somewhere familiar - or familiar enough; now you're lying in a small faintly hexagonal chamber lit by a gentle white light emanating from the surrounding walls. You can't shake the sensation that you've been asleep for a long, long time.
The sluggishness of coming out of a deep, dreamless sleep persists all the way until you disconnect the tube running from the compartment's rear wall to the base of your neck. Then 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. Somewhere, someone else is feeding their thoughts and emotions into your mind. On the plus side, it's easy to follow that digging, familiar sensation to each other. After all, you're part of the same brood. You belong together.
Welcome to Station 72. Sirius and Kavinsky will have one day aboard the Station to acclimate to their new reality before they're whisked away to Concordia to join the rest of the young hosts. Get to know one another, ask some burning questions; in a day's time you'll be boarding a shuttle and going somewhere far, far away.
MEANWHILE IN CONCORDIA, the host's espionage efforts are coming to a head. Preparations for infiltrating Public Security HQ are in full swing, a handful of hosts are planning to get in close with Representative Goram Saffit himself and there's currently a semi-functional android taking up one of the beds of the Bearings apartment block. Honestly, there's more than enough on everyone's plate without piling new hosts on top of it all. But that doesn't stop Nirad from disappearing when he's called to return to the Station. Presumably, this means everyone better get ready to debrief some new arrivals soon...
ON THE STATION, there's a hum in the air - or the mind, rather. Follow the buzz and it'll lead to the Hangar Deck where a slick brick-shaped black transport is waiting. The source of the mental hum seems to be a young man: Nirad has come to collect you. He'll answer any questions; in fact, he seems happy to talk and length about absolutely anything. The boy's apparently the rambling type with little to no filter between his brain and his mouth. The combination of talking and mental hum can be disorienting. Once safely aboard the transport, the ship’s landing platform descends through the floor of the hangar. It snaps into place in the airlock. For a moment there’s a beat of perfect stillness, a shiver of anticipation. Then the transport is flung through the shaft and 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.
A BUMPY LANDING
The stealth ship slices down toward the planet until it fills the entire viewscreen. "All right, everyone out," Nirad announces, unbuckling his harness and jumping to his feet. Uh. What?
He leads to the port side of the transport ship where there's a small series of circular ports. They're roughly shoulder width. At a touch of a button, the ports open out to a series of escape pods. There's only enough room for one and it looks like you'll be lying on your back the whole trip. "Hop in. I'll launch you and then follow you down in my own. The pod's stealth tech should keep you invisible to the locals until someone comes to find it, but don't forget to scrap the pod when you're out of it. We can't risk someone finding it laying around." A pause. "Sorry, by the way. Usually we'd just land the ship but it's getting kind of obvious."
Hopefully you weren't expecting a nice, easy trip down to the planet because this is dark and joyless. The escape pod has no windows. It launches from the transport ship and rockets downward at the behest of the planet's gravity. Everything shakes. It's desperately cold, then violently hot and then-- something gives. The sound of something whistling. A jerk. The escape pod trembles as the anti-grav jets at the base deploy. It's a last attempt to soften the landing, then the pod drives down into a mountain of debris like a tent stake into muddy earth.
Congratulations, you've landed more or less safely in Concordia's only open air landfill.
SEARCH & RESCUE
It's three in the morning and maybe you're asleep in Bearings or maybe you're burning the midnight oil; either way, Carata is in your mind telling you to get up and get ready. "The new hosts have landed. Let's go pick them up, shall we? If I were were, I'd wear some clothes you don't really care for."
Time to go digging through the city's biggestdumpstertransfer facility!
The escape pods will have to be unearthed and opened from the outside to rescue their inhabitants. Once free, be sure to dismantle pods and scatter them through the piles of debris. Eventually all of this will be recycled, but we don't want anyone finding mysterious alien technology in one piece now do we?
((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
[ he keeps a rather neutral face in front of him despite his odd mannerisms. ]
I understand this is very inconvenient, but you're one of us, now. I can't just leave you.
It was confusing for me, too, when I first arrived here. But it becomes more bearable if you let people help you. That's all I meant when I said that.
I can try to answer some questions. [ a tilt of the head as he gives him another look over. ] Be aware that you probably won't like what I have to say regardless of what you ask. All the same, I'll do my best.
no subject
[His grin carves itself back across his face. Doesn't do a thing to soften him. The neutral calm he gets in return is good, should be good, is not good; makes his fingers tighten, skin pulled over split knuckles.]
And what about it's meant to be bearable? D'you want to start with that one?
no subject
[ giorno takes it as if he'd been asked a question by his teacher at school. ]
'Bearable', for me, means being able to navigate the hosts without having to lose myself in the chatter.
The bonds we have are permanent. It has value in its intimacy. I suppose it's a bit naive for me to say this, but - I have an easier time finding friends here than I had back home. Of course, everyone's different.
The symbiote doesn't solve everything. I like to think of it as an opportunity, more than anything else. A weapon, in case you need it to be one. But when you're as intimate with people as we are here, you can't just casually talk about using it. You have to be careful. You're connected with people, after all.
You also need to be comfortable at letting people share your mind. [ he taps the side of his head. ] There are ways to make sure that people don't intrude in your memories without permission. But having a direct link is useful when communicating with others. People often struggle to communicate to each other in the first place. This way we eliminate potential misunderstandings, but at the same time, you have to be vulnerable. It causes a lot of conflict among hosts.
Insofar as I've been here, things are bearable in that I can quietly use my abilities and still be myself. You always have a choice to go back. If you've decided to live, then you have decided that somehow, there's still hope regardless of the circumstances. That is important, and it helps making things bearable on your part - and to others, as well.
The rest of it is fairly self-explanatory. Your basic needs will be met. The rest of it is up to you.
[ a tilt of the head. ] Does that answer your question?
no subject
[--Is how he starts, anyways, heated. A brief writhe against the implication. Connection. Vulnerability. There is so much shit, is what he is thinking. There is so much, not just here, around them, but in him. Narrow years. Not a great deal to go on.
His fingers are shaking a little when he pushes the heel of his hand against his eye again. The pressure is as real as the stiffness in his fingers. This is all really happening. So yeah: to the question, all of what Giorno's got to say answers it, and then some. Sirius' grin flickers quickly over his face, there and gone again.]
Did you write the travel brochure for this place?
[Look at him. Making jokes.]
no subject
[ giorno frowns at him. he hopes he doesn't say 'all of this', because that is useless talk, and he hates that kind of useless talk. he's not so callous as to ignore the fact that sirius is distressed, but he's different from the most if only because his views of the nest, and everything else, are more ... optimistic, really.
he wants, more than anything else, to get sirius talking, because that's the only way one can start being able to live with the circumstances. acknowledging, prying at the thing in his head. there are people - notably in giorno's brood - who had gotten it in their minds that repression is certainly the way to deal with them as being hosts. giorno has nothing against it, repression certainly has its own uses, but if the nest is to move as a unit during missions, then repression inconveniences more than anything else. it offers nothing in the way of abilities. he did not want to wish that kind of trouble on anyone, and he certainly didn't want to see anyone going that way again, unless he can help it.
it's a terrible time to be so earnest and wanting to help. ]
If it were up to me - we'd be talking more about food and shopping and musicals. Do you like any of that?
[ trying to find common ground, here. but perhaps the more important question is: ] What do you want?
no subject
He hasn't needed to speak in so long. Last conversation was with Fudge. Words don't come easy, but that's all right, isn't it, because now it should all be feeling and consciousness, only he barely trusts that either. Food and shopping and musicals. A willingness to help. Bright. Everything feels very far away. What does he like? What does he want?]
I want to kill him.
[Quiet. Tight. His fingers are shaking. Him. Peter. Traitor. Despair turns black, curdling to hate. What he really wants, he will never get; this is what he will take instead.]
no subject
Who is he? What has he done?
[ and perhaps, the question, now that sirius is here: ] Who is left to deal with him?
no subject
[No one is left, is the answer to the only one of those questions that really matters. He's at Hogwarts. Newspaper smoothed out over damp stone.
The ebb of close consciousness catches on the edges like a hook, and Sirius jerks back into focus. His gaze flicks over Giorno's face, once and then again, a quick suspicious study.]
You can tell.
[He repeats the gesture Kavinsky made, back on the station. Index finger drilled against his temple.]
You can feel it. That's how this works, yeah?
no subject
I can, yes.
But in general, I prefer asking for permission. It is your mind, not mine.
Would you like me to look?
no subject
[Merlin, no. This time Sirius shrinks back in person as well, a half-step shuffled backwards as his hand drops to his side once more.]
Only a question. Not an invitation. Choice, autonomy, doesn't seem to much enter into-- [He jerks his chin up, sharply, as if to encompass their surroundings.] --most of this.
Is everyone as courteous as you, with waiting for invites?
no subject
Most people are. But the connection itself is a tool. While the mind can be resilient, as a new host .... I find that control is a bit difficult to grasp.
[ and as sirius probably knows by now, it can very easily be used as a weapon. ]
There are ways of shutting people out, but I'm not very good with them yet. You can always ask someone to teach you. I know some good people, if you don't mind getting to know them. It takes time and fortitude.
[ then again .... when sirius says "there is no-one left" to kill the man he wants dead, and he is the only one standing, giorno thinks that he probably has some strength left within him yet that allows him to have survived this long. ]
If nothing else - you are not alone, here. Perhaps that's a curse as much as it can be a convenience to some.
no subject
Don't know about convenience. It'll be something.
[A very strange something, after twelve years of relative solitude. Thick walls. Whispers. The hiss of the waves. A quiet rustle of robes, dragging.
Sirius rubs his wrist against his forehead, trying to relieve some of the ache there.]
And it's not as if I've much of a choice in it. How long have you been here?
no subject
[ it's hard for him to believe that it's only been that long. he's settled in a routine in this place in his own way, and while he still thinks of his friends a lot - and there is a pang in him that sirius can feel as he mentions the time, if only because giorno lets him feel it, should he want to - giorno considers his endeavours in space as a necessary shift in priorities, if only because he has to protect his world.
a rather different worldview that most people do not share, although it's not like he's gone asking people if they agree with him. most of the hosts that he's talked to in-depth about the subject, however, disagree with the way he views things. thus he has a tendency to keep the truth to himself. ]
Not true. You can always return, if you don't mind watching the world end.
Did someone give you trouble when you woke up, Sirius? [ who was it that barged into your mind. ]
no subject
Perhaps idealism isn't the word for it, but near enough that it's what Sirius goes for first. Perhaps because he remembers it that way for his own part, will go back to it again. It's only the world. It's only innocent lives. Not a choice, but certainly the way it is.
The question distracts him, narrows his eyes, wary. A mild retreat.]
No. [Suspicion ripples off of him. He keeps quite still.] Why?
no subject
If it were accidental, that's something else entirely. If it were deliberate, that'd be problematic, hence the question. I don't want to be anyone's guardian, [ unless you want him to, but he won't make that offer now - ] I just want to know.
no subject
[Kavinsky. A verb as much as a noun. Touching a thumb to a crust of battery acid, but thinking of Kavinsky feels strangely good, too, and despite himself Sirius directs a glance back toward where he's just come from.]
--Nothing happened. [Lame conclusion. Then again, he looks strung out enough that it might do for an answer; if nothing else, Giorno will understand the intensity of connection. They're one and the same in that, at least. He chances a glance back.] What's it feel like? Accidentally?
[Or not. Giorno's only claiming the accidental, but allows for the deliberate. That's got to mean that it's happened. They don't make rules against things before they've happened.]
no subject
Like slamming against a wall. He was more skilled than I was.
It was exhausting, to be honest. It takes time and energy to force your will into someone's mind. [ even if your intentions are good. ]
no subject
Because he'd been here longer? [The pattern of conversation is still something he's recovering. That means there's a split-second pause before he thinks to add:] We've got something like it, where I'm from. Closing your mind.
[So it's something he can understand--and he understands the force of impact, too, likely better than some. Legilimency was never a forte of his. Too impatient.]
no subject
[ giorno sort of wishes he had something like that from back home, too. he likes having the advantage. ]
But not - connected with everyone, I suppose? More of an individual ability? How curious. What was it used for, mainly? [ he doubts it was a necessity. maybe for control. ]
no subject
[Sirius' smile tints toward the grim, and he rolls his shoulders in a quick sharp shrug, like he's trying to shake off the thought or the question or something else. He's thin enough that it looks like an effort.]
And used for nothing good. Mainly. Which is why fortifying against it was more important.
no subject
[ an individual ability with most people being able to use it. how ... convenient, but he'd never let him know. he doubts that sirius would agree the way he is now.
the important part is to get sirius to safety. ]
Well. I can't guarantee it won't happen here. We get all kinds of hosts.
But it's not something taken lightly, and we tend to protect our own.
[ rather kindly, ] Let me take you to the Bearings.
no subject
Apprehension kicks up again at the offer, as nice as it is. Sirius shoots a glance over Giorno's shoulder, as if mapping out the distance.]
Might want to stay out a bit longer.
no subject
Alright. Call, if you need anything. [ he taps the side of his head. ]
no subject
Yeah.
[--He agrees, anyways. Self defense has never been an issue for him, but then again, he's never escaped from prison and found himself dragged to some otherworldly place, so perhaps it's better to use there's a first time for everything as his ongoing philosophy.]
Thanks.