onemind: (Default)
THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] station722017-03-27 07:07 am

[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!))






polyphonos: (Default)

Cathaway | NPC | ota

[personal profile] polyphonos 2017-03-27 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)
A. THE SILVER SHIP (closed to new Hosts)
[The little spaceship isn't quite as cramped on the inside as it had seemed just looking at it, but it isn't precisely a comfortable fit either. The seats are small, the harnesses slightly too tight, and the passenger section might as well be part of the cockpit. There's certainly very little in the way of a divider and the woman in the pilot's seat going through the last of her pre-flight checks hardly seems to have more legroom.

Cathaway flips a few switches and spins a wheels on the ship's glittering digital display. A low sound begins to pass through the body of the craft, humming and giving and shifting as the engines pitch to life and settle into idling.]


Be sure to get that harness nice and secure. [She sounds-- delighted, a taste of something sweet on the tongue.] The launch in this can be intimidating.

B. PLATFORM ALFA
[Cathaway is a small, narrow woman; she should be easy to lose or miss in the throng of life on Platform Alfa. Instead the press of beings - in every color, shape and size imaginable - seem to bubble out around her. Why is a mystery (she certainly doesn't look intimidating), but it makes her easy to spot where she's currently perched: standing on a concrete bench and studying the wide assortment of ships and small speeders buzzing around the platform with all the fascination of a child.

She has ten minutes left on the meter. Might as well enjoy it.]
somnifacient: (07)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-03-27 05:12 pm (UTC)(link)
I. AWAKENING (closed to new hosts)

[The tube disconnects, and suddenly his awakening is far less pleasant.

A barrier breaks, and Noctis hears and feels too much. Voices that aren’t his (but they feel as if they belong to him regardless), emotions that reverberate at the edges of everything that he is, every atom in his body, digging deep into his bones. He sits up, grimacing, eyes squeezed shut. Everything… why was everything so loud?

It takes a minute to adjust, if it can even be called that. Confusion comes to him in a wave, drowning out all cognizant thought, and it’s only in the most automatic way does he begin to take in his surroundings. That he tries to understand what’s happened, why he’s been brought here. In the end, it’s a futile effort, and only the voice in his head beckoning him to visit the hangar gives him any real direction.

And so, eventually, he does. (He’s ignored the white courtesy clothing, as if hilariously suspicious of it, opting only for the clothes on his back. Black attire, dirtied with battle.) His feet move him, somehow, and he walks; he takes comfort in the mental buzz around him seeming to distance itself with each step. Prevalent, distracting, but not loud.

Until he runs into another, and the voices (voice?) press louder into him again. Another new arrival, though Noctis wouldn’t know old host from new, not right now, not when everything is both fresh and disorienting in his mind.]


What the hell’s going on here?

[It seems like a reasonable thing to ask, doesn’t it?]

II. PLATFORM ALPHA (ota)

OPTION A

[More noise, this time audible, instead of ringing in his mind.

The first thing Noctis does upon arrival to Platform Alpha is try to disconnect from the throng of the crowd, trying to find a space where alien creatures, alien individuals would not brush against him at every turn. A moment to breathe, to mull over this transition — a moment to feel angry or lost or sad or anything other than confused.

A moment is all he needs, to focus within himself, to draw out even a small modicum of inner strength to snap him back to reality. Just a moment, that’s all.

Weaving in and out through the crowd (a crowd that he always seems to be walking against, it’s like trying to swim against the current; was this a queue for something?), he wonders if others were supposed to meet him here—

Something, someone slams into his shoulder. An alien, twice his size, a hundred times more irritable than Noct could ever hope to be. Noctis stumbles back, and looks up at it; it’s a terrible-looking alien, more centipede than humanoid, and he gives it a look of surprised disgust before he can stop himself.

The alien screeches something at him. (In a language that Noctis can’t hope to understand without using the translator, much less realize that this is also a very drunk alien, irritable from standing in line for what seems to be hours.)]


Sorry. [He manages, not exactly sure how to approach this situation. His brow is furrowed, lending to the notion that it was an automatic response, more than a sincere one. And that’s hardly good enough for Mr. Alien, who rises up on its many legs, looming over Noctis in a way that’s not exactly friendly.]

OPTION B

[If no one steps in, Noctis will move on instinct alone. An extended hand, and the atmosphere seems to twist slightly around him, before a sword (an odd-looking one) literally materializes in his hand out of nothing more than shattered, crystalline light.

By the Six, does he hate bugs.

That seems to be enough to entice the crowd around him to give him space, if only a small amount. They’ve all probably seen worse.]


Back off.

[Defuse this tragedy about to happen? Make things worse? Popcorn.gif?]


WILDCARD

[lbr, it won’t take him long to get completely and irrevocably lost on Waypoint Shril. So feel free to stumble upon him anywhere.]
adamance: (this isn't arrogance; it's leading)

wildcard

[personal profile] adamance 2017-03-27 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[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? )
wrackful: (296)

II B

[personal profile] wrackful 2017-03-27 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[At the edge of the circle that's just expanded in the crowd around Noctis, Murphy gives a long, impressed whistle, and starts to slowly clap.]

Nice trick.

[His voice sounds like it's more given to derision, but in the moment, the sentiment's genuine. Pulling a sword out of thin air wasn't something to shrug at. It's also the best open reaction to give to throw a stone in the cogs of what had been about to escalate: the 7ft bug seems confused, and some of the crowd who had paused to watch start to lose interest, slipping back away into the flow of people.

Murphy seals it further by stepping forward, gesturing towards the sword.]


How much? Seriously, name your price, I know some people who'd love to take something like that off your hands.

[Of course, he knows no such people. But a fight was a scene; someone haggling for a sale was commonplace enough to be no interest whatsoever.]
futurewitness: but he's saved in my phone as "uh oh zbt" ([o shi] i don't remember him.)

[personal profile] futurewitness 2017-03-28 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
I. on the station
[ As soon as the tube disconnects, the odd sense of calm that had been there disappears, and Lucina is at a loss as to what she had to be calm about in the first place. Everything is loud and overwhelming and she doesn't know where she is -

Wherever she is, it's small. She feels trapped.

She pushes herself up to sit, her hand brushing against something as she does, and there's at least a little relief finally mixed in with everything else. Falchion is here. And it's all she has left, again - but if there's one lesson she's been forced to learn too many times, it's that there is a good and a very bad time for grief. She can't stay put.

Out the bottom it is, then. ]




II. platform alfa
[ Despite the explanations, she still has far too many questions, and there are more she's sure she hasn't thought of yet or doesn't know how to ask, but the ride (??) is over and she's out of the ship (it doesn't look like a ship?) and onto the landing platform.

And she stops, and stares.

Whether she's more in shock at the technology around them (like nothing she's ever seen) or at the sheer number of people-or-whatever around them (Ylisstol must've been this busy once, she knows, but that's not a time she can remember) is questionable. More than likely, the answer is both. ]
sistershoggoth: (pic#10136231)

a

[personal profile] sistershoggoth 2017-03-28 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ Intimidating isn't a word that Annie has ever known in her life. She buckles up because she doesn't want to be thrown around the goddamn cabin when they take off, but she's straining against the straps, mouth open with intrigue. Her mind is whirring, not putting in any effort to contain her high line of emotion. She's ecstatically curious, and perhaps easily and thoughtlessly feeding on Cathaway's own excitement. ]

What's under the hood of this pea-shooter?

[ She wants to know, wants to its inner workings and let her mind wrap round it, happily distracted for a little while before this too became mundane. It all did, eventually. ]
sistershoggoth: (pic#10136230)

awakening

[personal profile] sistershoggoth 2017-03-28 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ The woman, small enough to easily be mistake for a teenager, turns and looks at him over her shoulder. She has long platinum dyed hair, spilling over too much exposed olive-colored skin. The look on her face is halfway between bored and bemused. The calm incredulity she presents him is at odds with the aura she presents. A profound sense of empty space and dark, dire secrets creeping ever closer... ]

Abducted by aliens, the fuck does it look like?

[ She snorts crassly, motioning around them at the sterile interior of the Station and all its fucked up accoutrement. ]
Edited (child felt like a weird description, she's not that short.... but she fuckin' short.) 2017-03-28 03:36 (UTC)
sistershoggoth: (pic#10136244)

station

[personal profile] sistershoggoth 2017-03-28 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ She's not far away. There had been a sense, that she should wait. That it was not just her, that it would never just be her. The sensation is a familiar one, she had once had a unit that she would not leave behind. You wait for them. You check for them. They are yours, you are theirs. And now there is Lucina.

Lucina doesn't remind her of any of her unit, at a glance. Not in looks, not in bearing.

A head tilt. Annie's observation is as unsubtle as being fondled by a tentacle, and as cold. There's something a little bit clockwork to her, not quite organic, a process put together over time. For all that Annie feels strange in her attentions, she smiles. Eyelids heavy, the grin crooked, roguish. ]


Good morning, princess.
sistershoggoth: (pic#10136228)

all waypoint, all the time

[personal profile] sistershoggoth 2017-03-28 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
AROUND, OPTIONS, OR WILDCARD, GO
[ In their own environment, not trampling her world to a paste, this wide swathe of alien life is exhilarating. There's so much to see, so much new shit to see and to learn. It's almost like she could leave all her troubles behind, back on Earth. But she can't, because it was never Earth that was her problem. She carries her problems right in her chest, right inside the ugly scar down the middle of it. The emptiness lingers, the sorrow, the guilt. It's just been shoved in a corner and covered with a sheet for a moment, like hiding a mess before guests come over, but when it's just Annie-oh-Annie all on her own again... she'll draw the cover back.

For today though, she's happy. Wandering the way point with shiny eyes, laser focused on everything. She hums with it, she's not just a new host, she's also a sprawling kind of creature. Hungry, heat seeking. Any other hosts she gets close enough to knows she's there, knows she's enjoying herself.

Feels her raucous amusement throwing dice in an alley, learning lewd gestures she doesn't always have the appendages for.

Her shrewdness when she haggles for something like cigarettes. Her trepidation, concern that it might inebriate. Relief when it doesn't.

And, of course, her utter focus when an over-eager and mouthy contestant-to-be picks a fight with a whole roomful, and Annie volunteers herself to go a round. Muscle memory, easy and thoughtless, she kicks her opponent to the other side of the room in the end, taunting with one of her newly found insults, and refusing the drinks offered to her by a laughing crowd.

Even though she wants it. She wants it. Hands curling into fists. Sweat beading on her brow. ]
shiro2hero: (dah nuh dah nuh jaws theme)

2a

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-03-28 03:07 am (UTC)(link)
Whoa! Take it easy!

[He was one of those people just passing by, when the brush of someone else's mind hit his. That feeling of another person with a symbiote in their head. So of course, he's going to stop.]

[And when he sees the problem, of course he's going to try and intervene. Holding up both hands, looking between human and alien.]


Accident. All right? Let's just go our separate ways here. No one wants a fight.

[So says the armored man attempting to project calm, and composure.]
lavelly: (visit brothels)

[personal profile] lavelly 2017-03-28 03:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ 01. wakey wakey big mistakey ]
[Lavellan's starting to think he should never have disconnected that strange tube in his neck: it's unbelievable how much he's been feeling like shit ever since he dropped out of his chamber. Everything here--wherever here is--is just too much. Too bright, too loud.

It's not like he's not used to hearing strange voices; at first he'd just thought it was Mythal's will trying to tell him something, though he hadn't heard anything from it in years. But the longer it goes on the more he realizes this is something entirely different. It's too chaotic, like he's in a crowded room surrounded by everyone talking at once, and none of them are making any sense.

There are... one or two voices that stand out from the others, he thinks, but trying to concentrate on them just makes his headache worse, so he stops. Instead he focuses, shakily, on following the one calling him to the hangar. In better circumstances he'd be trying to get his bearings rather than blindly obeying some strange voice, people have met grisly ends for less, but these aren't better circumstances. These are circumstances where his head is pounding, he's covered in cold sweat, and he feels like he's about to vomit any second.

Honestly, if this voice is leading him to his death, he welcomes it. Consciousness isn't very appealing right now.

Every so often on his path he has to stop and lean against the wall to catch his breath and wait for the world to stop spinning. Was he drugged? It would make about as much sense as anything else.]

[ 02. everything happens so much (station alfa) ]
[Well, he's feeling a little better, but he's still thinking he'd prefer death. So much is happening around him that he can't even begin to comprehend, so he's just kind of numbly waiting for something to happen that actually makes sense. He gets the impression he's supposed to be meeting someone here, but he has no idea who or why.

Maybe he's just dreaming, who knows. Even the Fade made more sense than this.

To an onlooker, it might even look like he's bored, as he sits with his head propped in his hand and just watches the people around him go. In truth it's more like he's in a stupor. He's not totally unaware, though; if he's approached he'll sound perfectly casual. Conversational, even.]


This is probably a strange question, but could you tell me if I'm dead?

[ 03. mystery box challenge ]
(Hit me up on [plurk.com profile] listen to has something else out!)
somnifacient: (06)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-03-28 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
[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.]
somnifacient: (04)

or not II B

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-03-28 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
[That's all it takes, it would seem. A spike of confusion thrown into an escalating situation, enough to dispense crowd and tension alike. Noctis, the very image of grace and poise, blinks in confusion, opens his mouth to say something-

The alien, in all its creepy bug-like mannerisms, makes another unintelligible noise. A dismissive sound, before it decides that whatever is going on now isn't worth its time. It scuffles off, returning to its place in the queue. (Which, admittedly, hasn't moved up much at all.)

Noct's eyes flicker from the alien to the newcomer. His attention is so haphazardly ripped from one to the other that it can probably be felt reverberating through their mental link -- a link that Noctis feels quite clearly with sudden proximity.

That doesn't make the notion any less confusing, though.]


It's not... [He straightens, frowning. The sword in question disappears from his grasp, in the same manner that it appeared.] Not for sale.
somnifacient: (10)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-03-28 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
[Noctis finds himself hesitating before responding. It's not the woman's crass reply that does it to him, though (no, that's barely enough to offend him in such a confused state), but a feeling of something... unfathomable. Deep, lingering, disturbing. Like standing on the edge of a vast, bottomless pool.

His fingers flex, jaw setting. Suddenly, the Lucian king feels uncertain when he had felt merely addled (and tired, so tired) before. She can probably feel all of this in return, of course. But he doesn't stand in silence long, and eventually a reply finds its way past his lips.

It's a little wry.]


Yeah, because that's a great explanation.

[Even though, to be fair... probably accurate, all things considered.]
somnifacient: (09)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-03-28 04:19 am (UTC)(link)
[It's jarring, the sudden appearance of someone like him. Someone he could reach out and touch with his mind, if Noctis ever felt so inclined. He's not used to the sensation, and while curiosity pulls him in one direction, caution yanks him in the other. The latter wins out, and Shiro can probably feel Noctis trying to retract his thoughts, as if being mentally startled away.

The alien looks down at the armored newcomer, making a few noises in only what can be described as irritated-sounding. But apparently not angry enough to pick a fight with two bipeds, and so with another glance at Noct, one more hissing noise, the creature turns away and returns to its spot in line.

Noctis had been unknowingly holding his breath, and exhales long and with exasperation. The line of his shoulders relax, allowing the smallest amount of tension to release.

He looks at Shiro.]
Thanks... for that.
shiro2hero: (shit that sounded dirty whoops)

2

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-03-28 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
[Honestly, he would have passed this person by entirely. If it wasn't for the brush of another mind. Someone's mind who is unfamiliar. Someone he doesn't yet know -- but someone who is part of their... group. So to speak.]

[So of course he stops, stepping up near them. He's about to answer the question, but once he takes another look at them, the answer dies on his tongue.]

[The ears... Can this--?]


... can I ask you something first?
lavelly: (approve missives)

[personal profile] lavelly 2017-03-28 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
[His eyes focus sharply as Shiro approaches, and he realizes that one of the voices (that until now had blissfully faded into the background, for the most part) has accordingly gotten louder.

Then this man must be... another one. Another of some group Lavellan can't quite wrap his head around but exists nonetheless.

His eyes narrow as he automatically shifts his weight. Just in case. Though something in his head is telling him there's no danger here.]


That depends on what it is. I can be very sensitive when it comes to personal topics.
shiro2hero: (stoic anime protag pose)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-03-28 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
[If it helps anything, he's snapped his own mental walls into place fairly quickly. In order to keep his own thoughts under control. And to keep any bleedover to a minimum. It helped him when he first got here.]

[He keeps his place between them, until it's certain the alien is backing down. Heading off on their way. Only then does he turn to face the newcomer, nodding to him.]

[From his mind, there's not much more than a whisper of stars. Of galaxies. No thoughts. Just the imagery.]


No problem. Those guys aren't anything close to friendly. [A pause, and he extends a hand.] Shiro.
shiro2hero: (sad dad had bad)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-03-28 05:09 am (UTC)(link)
[At least in his case, he's been here long enough to build up decent shields. All he's projecting are stars. The thought of stars -- of galaxies in distinct colors. Nothing else. A useful skill when you're meeting new people.]

[His expression, though, relaxes, into something apologetic.]


Does the word "Altea" mean anything to you?

[Because now that he's looking, this guy doesn't have anything like markings. Just the ears.]
somnifacient: (15)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-03-28 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
[It does help, allowing Noctis enough figurative breathing space to gather his thoughts up properly. To steady himself in the face of everything unknown around him, friendly faces and hostile aliens alike. He tries to keep his own emotions within him, and years of outward practice at least translates into partial success internally.

(Stars, though. He sees them flickering in the distance with this man; just faint imagery, but Noctis indulges himself in it. It's calming, like the shine of crystals, refracted light glinting all around. His own imagery thrumming quietly, projecting softly.)]


Yeah, I could see that. [An equal pause, then Noctis does what's only polite and shakes Shiro's hand.] I'm Noctis. And I'm- [New and hopelessly confused, lost in the connection of too many minds.] -still trying to wrap my head around all of this.
lavelly: (get rejected)

[personal profile] lavelly 2017-03-28 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
[Even just that much information makes him inhale sharply in surprise, brings the nausea back fresh. It's not that Shiro is projecting too much--just the effect at all sends him reeling, unable to separate Shiro's thoughts from physical reality.

He'll never get used to... whatever this is. He's not sure he wants to.]


Stop--stop that.

[Mercifully, it stabilizes quickly enough on its own. More quickly than it had when he first woke up here. Maybe he is getting used to it.

It still takes him a moment to find his words again.]


I'm afraid it doesn't.
futurewitness: with leggings under her jean skirt...i'm gona beat her ass with a fashion magazine... ([grimace] the next time i see a chick)

[personal profile] futurewitness 2017-03-28 05:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's strange - she knows she's never seen this woman in her life, and yet there's something so undeniably familiar about her that she can't help but relax. Her posture is still as tight as a rubber band about to snap, but the hand that's resting on the hilt of her sword, at least, unclenches.

Deep breath.

Whatever is going on, this is not an enemy. She can feel it in her gut, even if part of her rebels at the thought of just trusting so easily (because look at the mess it's all caused before). ]


Do you know where we are?
shiro2hero: (this is my chill the fuck out face)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-03-28 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
Watch out for the short ones, too. They like to put their hands where they don't belong.

[A gesture with his free hand indicates his general... pocket area. So hopefully the message comes across without him actually explaining, or sending a mental image of the event. Because that might not go over terribly well, with someone so new to this place.]

[At least the sense of stars is going over fairly well.]

[His expression turns sympathetic, though, at that last part. He nods.]
I know the feeling. Most of us do.

Or did.
shiro2hero: (why am I the disney princess ??)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-03-28 06:38 am (UTC)(link)
Stop? Stop wh...

[Oh. Oh, he gets it. His eyes widen a fraction. It's hard to try and scale back his mental shielding. But maybe just... pull it in closer? Does that work?]

[He actually shakes his head, holding up his hands, while he tries his best to do that. It's not something he exactly has experience with.]


I'm sorry. I didn't realize.

[But hey, at least the apology is sincere.] But thanks. Are you okay?
polyphonos: (delta)

[personal profile] polyphonos 2017-03-28 02:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[Aren't they just two recursive peas in a pod? The buzz of Cathaway's attentions, her affections, flex under the activity of the girl's mind and revels in the mutual energy. She's felt tired for so long, the drag of reality picking at the edge of her brain, but this? This is pleasant work.

She buckles herself into her own harness, sweeping the sheet of her grey hair back.]


A pryiak drive core coupled with the Atraxan propulsion model - a big kit for a ship this size.

[Delightful, she thinks and then the circle platform shifts, beginning it's corkscrew descent into the Station's launch tube. The hole in the deck above them, visible through the semi transparent viewscreen of the cockpit's bubble, slides closed above them. For a moment they're cast into perfect darkness, lot only by the ship's glittering instrument panel as the Station carries them down into its guts.]

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