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[hatch log] welcome to the void-- wait no, waypoint shril
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!))
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?
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--
--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!))
no subject
Don't worry about that part, got plenty of time to learn all about it. Just take my word for it.
[ Her manner with Lucina is so markedly different than with Noctis. Maybe because Lucina, confused and vulnerable, is so much more like one of the Academy girls. Maybe just because she's a girl, period. Annie's a sexist bitch like that. ]
no subject
[ It almost surprises her, how fast she says it, but...as much as Lucina wants to convince herself that it's not safe to trust so freely, there's something in her gut that says it's okay, this time.
(But look where trusting her instincts got her with Robin.)
If she's going to ignore common sense and accept whatever's going on here, though - ]
Someone...wants us to come to them. [ The hangar, she gets an impression of, which is funny considering she has no idea what a hangar is - ] You feel it too, don't you?
no subject
Yeah, went over there earlier. [ Wandering cantankerously with Noctis, but she'd come back because something had been missing. Someone, still dreaming, stirring fitfully at the edges of Annie's sprawling inner landscape of thought and psyche. ] Her name's Cathaway. Hangar's where the ships are. The space ships, you'll see.
[ Almost half tempting to offer out a hand and lead this little fantasy lamb there but Annie tucks her hands in her pockets. She's never been that kind of girl, never been that outwardly soft. Rarely that inwardly soft, at that. ]
no subject
She's friendly?
[ The summons feels friendly, but... ]
no subject
Nice enough.
[ She gestures with a jerk of her head, leading the way. ]
There's nothing outright threatening here, but whether that means any of its friendly is another fuckin' deal altogether.
no subject
[ It would, after all, still be a considerable improvement over the world she grew up in. ]
no subject
[ Annie is willing to agree with that. ]
But you seem a little bit nice for this kind of adventure, just saying.
[ Noctis was also a little nice, but he at least wore his weariness for all he'd been through. Annie could at least tell he'd taken care of himself thus far. It's not that she can't tell that Lucina has too, it's that everything looks different to Annie when teenage girls are involved. The expectations are higher. They need to be more than just okay at not dying. ]
no subject
[ It's genuinely unexpected, to her; Lucina's not the one who usually gets thought of as nice. Serious, usually. Intense. The one who frowns at the jokes that don't already fly over her head. Maybe there's a little more of her mother there than she realized.
Or maybe it's just that she doesn't have anyone to put the brave face on for here, and faking it until she makes it isn't the life-or-death imperative it normally is.
(That's probably it, actually.) ]
no subject
[ Annie's protectiveness and drive is unhidden. It's a strange sensation for a girl she barely knows, but this girl is hers. The symbiote's chemical response to its own, fills her animal back brain and she isn't inclined to stop it. Not when she's been taking care of her kind for most of her life. Her sisters are dead. And now there is Lucina. ]
You don't think so?
no subject
[ Noblesse oblige and all that. ]
no subject
[ Was that what this was going to be. The three of them: leaders in a rush to save their worlds. ]
no subject
My father was the exalt of Ylisse.
[ Despite her father being past tense for some time now, she doesn't claim the title for herself. It seems pointless when there's not a Ylisse left to speak of. ]
Our halidom was destroyed, but I'll defend our survivors to the last.
no subject
That sucks. You think you're going back there, huh.
[ Annie's not even trying to say she isn't. It was just the same thing Noctis wanted whereas for herself... Well, it made her feel guilty but maybe she didn't want to go home. Maybe it had been a mistake to ever go home in the first place. She pulses with want for the distant mirage that is her true form -- the grand encompassing power of being a world, a goddess, an entity not a person. ]
no subject
I hope to.
[ Despite what a wreck her timeline is, she's too invested not to look back. ]
no subject
Come on, kid. Let's go meet Cathaway.
no subject
This is the face she shows to those who don't know her as Lucina, but as the last of the Exalted bloodline, the descendant of the Hero-King, the last light of hope in a dying world blah blah blah yada yada yada -
- it's probably a lot more convincing to anyone who can't sense the anxiety bubbling under the surface, but there's nothing to be done about that. ]
Yes, let's.