[hatch log] welcome to the void-- wait no, waypoint shril

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: The Station, Waypoint Shril
WHEN: DAY :027
SUMMARY: New hosts take the universe for a spin.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

YOU WAKE UP and suddenly you're a different person. --No. Wait. Scratch that. Not suddenly. It's been a while, hasn't it? Something feels off anyway - a combination of the strange and familiar right there in your own head - and you know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye. It’s impossible to tell exactly how long ago or how exactly you escaped the danger that had been breathing down your neck, but you know it was more than a moment ago.

But here you are, a small miracle of the multiverse: lying in a small faintly hexagonal chamber, a gentle white light emanating from the surrounding walls. If you were injured during your escape, those injuries have been healed. If you were anxious or frightened or distraught, those feelings have been briefly calmed. There's something strangely peaceful about waking up here. That feeling persists even as you find the tube running from the base of your neck to the compartment's rear wall.

But when the tube's disconnected? Things get loud. A wave of emotion fills that peaceful 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 happening 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. Maybe it's time for a change? 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 the closer you are to these strangers. --No. That's not right either. A sense of familiarity runs so deep between you it might as well be cellular.

Welcome to Station 72. It is... exhausting. There's both a both deep weariness in your bones and a pulse of anticipation crawling under your skin. Your body feels heavy at first, like you're somehow too dense or too real. But maybe that sensation eases eventually. Or maybe you just get used to it?

( ▬▬▬▬▬...There you are. Join us on the hangar, won't you....▬▬▬? )

It doesn't sound like a voice as much as it just resembles sounds, the sensation of warmth and security like napping in a window at the height of summer. If it's followed, you'll eventually wind your day to a massive hangar bay peppered with a myriad of small and medium ships ranging from strange to ornately beautiful to hardly recognizable. Waiting in front of a small silver craft is an aging woman with greying hair, fine jewlery chains tinkling with a multitude of metal charms sound through her clothing and along her forearms. You know instinctively she was the one who spoke to you.

She smiles now, moving to climb into the (very) small ship. There's room enough for all of you if you pack in tight. "Come along," says Cathaway. "The line for Platform Alfa is long enough that we can answer your questions on the way."





WAYPOINT SHRIL might be bursting at the seams with activity, noise and people, but there's no missing when something in the universe shifts. For most older Hosts, they wont quite be able to put their finger on what's going on, but Chuuya and Elena? They know exactly what's happening - somewhere in this universe, new Hosts are hatching and at least one of them belongs to you.

Not that the mystery lasts long for everyone else either. A few hours after the shift, Cathaway's speaks to you. Her voice is clear as a crystal bell, suffused with an intense and simple joy that has nothing to do with--

( New hosts have arrived. Please come meet us at Platform Alfa if you're able. They'll need your assistance. )

--and everything to do with the sensation of a ship hurtling as a bullet through space, the nauseating feeling of darting between other small craft and buzzing around larger class ships.

Come fetch your new friends, everyone. Waypoint Shril could be dangerous for the initiated. After all, the Catacomb Hotel is filled with construction zones and open elevator shafts, the streets are thronged with vendors looking to make a quick Shen off unsuspecting tourists, the area immediately surrounding the Stadium Zone is jammed with intergalactic reporters and especially hot headed or famous competitors filming a pre-competition conference, and - most mortifying of all - the line to leave Platform Alfa is apparently several hours long. What's a new Host to do without a little guidance?

---

((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for the new hosts and anyone looking to greet them after their hatching. You’re welcome to make your own logs separate to this going forward and tag any old logs that have been forward dated to this point or beyond. We're about halfway through the first week at Waypoint Shril, so feel free to touch the mission drop post as long as you're appropriately timing your encounters.


Additionally, you can find a more detailed overview of the hatching process HERE. You can find additional setting information about the Station HERE. Information about Waypoint Shril is located at the Current Mission Brief - you may consider this information more or less ICly known. Last but not least, if you have any questions, please hit up either the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

wildcard

[adamance]

[Noctis' mind is a distant one, at first, because she only brushes up against it purely on accident. She knows that there are newcomers—how could she not? she's familiar with the sensation by now—but the business of planning and preparing for the tournament has largely taken her attention. It's as she's securing information about some of the competitors that he passes behind her, mind confused and weary from ... being lost.

It's such a simple sensation that she focuses on him, and as she finishes her dealings, she steps a way to follow him.

Lexa knows that someone new like him would likely be happier with her using her voice, but some part of her wants to see how he'll respond to different prodding.]

( Did you truly believe it was a good idea to venture out alone like this? )

[somnifacient]

[His confusion intermingles with someone... familiar, it feels like, except he knows that it can't possibly be. Still, it's something to anchor to, and Noctis -- in his newness to the Nest -- lacks the tact to do so without much hesitation. So Lexa will likely feel the brush of his mind against hers, a quiet leaning in to borrow a modicum of that stability, even as Noctis continues to walk, his path leading nowhere.

A sensation that retracts almost immediately when he hears the voice in his head, crystal clear over the ruckus of the crowd surrounding them. He stops, frowns. Turns to look.]

You- [Of course he doesn't answer with his mind. He's not in the habit of it, and it still remains a very questionable notion to him thus far.]

I didn't mean to. [To get lost. To get swept away in the tide of a crowd.]

[adamance]

There was a risk in it just the same. [She at least pays him the respect in responding with her voice, rather than her mind. The other practice will come more readily to him, almost by necessity. Lexa decides that she's not going to be the one to teach him on the streets.]

Especially since you're no longer the man you were before. Whether you realize that or not is up to you.

[somnifacient]

[Sarcasm threatens to eke out, a consequence of minor irritation — not necessarily directed at Lexa, but rather the situation in general. To be ripped from home and tossed into space was one thing, to have exceedingly important things left to do was another altogether.

(Noct had been given the brief on the way over, of course. The sticking point had been that return was impossible for now, and needless to say this settled badly within him.)

Now to be told that he’s not the man he was before, as if he couldn’t tell that with the voices mixing in his head, with the way he could feel his connection to the Crystal wane, his own magic several degrees less poignant as it had been before-

All right, a little sarcasm is allowed, surely.]

Really? Which part are you referring to? The part where I’ve been hearing voices since I got here, or that my magic is just half of what it was before?

[To his credit, Noct at least keeps irritation mostly at bay, not wanting to direct it to her, as he's still trying to keep himself anchored to Lexa's steadiness. Peering into his mind, however, reveals discontent swirling like a ghost in the background.]

Or maybe part where I can't go home.

[adamance]

None of us can return home. But you are still the man who left your people. That part of us doesn't change. [For some, it had been a relief to leave. Lexa remembers her discomfort in realizing that Angel had taken no issue with leaving home, and had been willing to adjust and adapt to a new lifestyle. Some part of Lexa knows that her words can serve as a contradiction, but everyone's cultures remain. It would be a long, hard slog to erase it.]

Being there or not being there doesn't matter. The rest does. I haven't heard of weakened abilities, though I'm not surprised. [It would make sense. She hasn't asked much. And some men, like Kylo Ren, seemed far more than capable of using their talents with ease.

Perhaps this was a man more powerful than him. Interesting.]

Those are the parts that you'll want to adjust to without the calamity of what surrounds you. But you seem determined to find it.

[Lexa knows that she is both contradictory and condescending, but his sarcasm spikes that inside of her. She wants to pull him in several directions to see how he might react to say she says, all to get a measure of who he is.]

[somnifacient]

[He'd like to believe that condescension slides easily off of him, but he'd be fooling himself. It's a knee-jerk reaction to feel annoyed, one he never really grew out of (what time did he have to "grow", anyway? He had slept for so long), and it takes an almost obvious effort to not let it show outwardly. With the exception, perhaps, of the way his lips twist into a frown, the way his brow knits together almost incredulously.

It's contradictory, though. Her words are still technically helpful, revealing both information and advice. He can't ignore that much. But he feels obligated to defend his actions at least somewhat.]

I think you're mixing up "determined" with "just happened to get swept away in the crowd".

[...Of course, his defense is basically just "I got lost", so it sounds less compelling than it did in his head.]

You said being there doesn't matter. You're wrong. I had a duty to fulfill, and being here just means I'm letting people down.

[adamance]

Do you believe that you're the only person among us who's left people behind? Left a duty behind? In some way, we are all letting someone down. And if not someone else, then ourselves. [There's a swell of agitation to her voice, partly taken on for the sake of ensuring that her irritation is shown, and partly because she is frustrated. Odd for him to strike a nerve, but perhaps it's because she's had this conversation before.

Only this is the first time that it's sounded so close to how she felt from the beginning.]

[somnifacient]

[He has struck a nerve, apparently, though it's difficult for him to know why. He never claimed to be the only one to have left something behind, or had a vitally important task to attend to. He merely needs to look at his broodmates to know, to feel even the smallest shimmer of that impression.

And so, as a consequence, Lexa's words feel presumptuous.]

No. I don't believe I'm the only one. But if that's supposed to make me feel guilty about needing to return, then it's not working.

[That much is at least said with clear conviction. His hands flex slightly with annoyance, and Noctis suddenly feels very cognizant of the weight of the ring on his finger. (But even that was empty now.)]

[adamance]

We all need to return. [That's a basic statement of fact. Lexa can't even begin to fathom how her people have chosen to accept her absence. She had left to make sure that they were safe, but her absence would mean that Clarke was in danger. If anything, it might even be assumed that Clarke was at fault. There are so many things that can extend from that simple fact.

She sighs.]

But we can't. They say, "Not ever." But I'd prefer to focus on the mission ahead as one that we can complete, all so that we can ensure that none of our people are dragged into this in the same way, forced to make the same impossible choice.

[Odd to begin with berating him just to get under his skin, only to end up here. But her patience with others wears thin.]

[somnifacient]

[Noctis' patience fluctuates with his mood, with how much energy he has at any given moment. Right now, he feels worn, a contrast to the life of the crowd buzzing around him, not unlike an angry hornet's nest.

So his next statement comes out plain, sharp.] "Not ever" is unacceptable. [And yet, in the same breadth of space, a concession:]

But when it comes to choices, it doesn't seem like I have much of one right now. [Pushing ahead was always the route the take. Better than lingering in stagnancy, in uncertainty. He'd grown tired of that long ago.] Is that what you're doing out here now, figuring out how best to complete this "mission"? A tournament, right?

[At least he paid attention to the briefing.]

[adamance]

I don't care about the tournament, but I believe the prize will help us in our greater mission against our Enemies. That's why we're here. [The answer is simple. Otherwise, Lexa hopes that they would not be here. Cathaway and Prince said that bringing the Station to this location had been one of their duties.

(Odd that they should have duties. She's still unclear on what their exact role is.)]

[somnifacient]

[The juxtaposition of her not caring about the tournament, but caring about its prize instead, confuses Noctis for a brief moment.] So you're not going to participate?

[He does wonder what this prize is, however. The thought flickers through his mind.]

[adamance]

Warriors of all kinds need guidance. I'm willing to fulfill that part of the tournament on my end. [She's already won two similar things in her life—once to become a Commander, and another to prove her strength in the face of a challenge. Lexa sees no need to further her pride in winning something like this first hand.

Especially when she believes her knowledge will carry her further.]

[somnifacient]

[Guidance. He raises a brow, finding it a vague descriptor at best. The use of the word "warrior" is telling, at least.]

What kind of guidance, exactly? Training?

[adamance]

Training. Strategies. Use my eyes to figure out who will be the most difficult competitors to beat.

[Training is only a part of it. Having tactics to adapt to whatever lies ahead will be most important.]

[somnifacient]

So you're basically like the tactician of the group.

[Noctis... briefly wonders if it's self-appointed or otherwise.]

And what have your eyes told you so far?