station72 | WAYPOINT SHRIL, PT.2

Entry tags:

WAYPOINT SHRIL, PT.2

CHARACTERS: All (New Hosts may tag anything from their arrival date on Waypoint Shril forward.)
WHERE: WAYPOINT SHRIL
WHEN: Day :033 - :038
SUMMARY: Come one, come all, to the most amazing show you will ever see! Catch-all for the all ABA! Events, excluding the Demolition Man Derby and Awards Ceremony on day :039.
WARNINGS: N/A, will update as necessary.

I hope you’re all absolutely zazzled and ready to kick things off with a bang! As always, I’m Jaymez St. Jaymez St. Jaymez and I’ll be laying it all down for you as we head into this exciting and definitely deadly five day extravaganza! I’m positively passionate about bringing you all the hottest goss straight from the barrangar’s mouth, breaking down all the most important events that happen on Waypoint Shril for this entire Aurora Blue Arena!! I hope you’re ready, but we all know you’re not! Let’s get it going then!

     ABA! DAY I. THE OPENING CEREMONIES
You’ll forgive me if I scream, won’t you? Have you ever seen anything so zane in your entire life? I know you haven’t, but don’t worry, I’m here to help you process.

So we all know what happened at the big opening, right? Talk about flashy, and did our judges look great or what? I heard from a reliable source that Talius spent the whole night about neck deep in Surellian Smoke Brandy, but you almost couldn’t tell, they managed to keep all their feet on the platform at all times. Anyway, everyone in the stands had a chance to enjoy the show - and the announcements, of course! I have to say, for as long as I’ve been doing this, these sound like some of the best challenges we’ve ever seen. And last time around we had the Great Galactic Cookoff!

Of course, we all enjoyed the show. How could we not? It’s the afterparty that everyone was looking forward to though. Did you catch sight of all the competitors up in the front? The camera loves them, but close up or no you couldn’t get half as close as the people here taking part in the action. After the show wrapped up there was an exclusive meet-and-greet. Sorry, did I say exclusive? Just about anyone with a piece of paper that said ‘press’ on it got into the party. They say it’s business, but you know, it’s funny? I saw a lot more drinks in hand than holo-pads and cam-wires. In my own hand, too, if you know what I’m saying.

Of course, not all the competitors stuck around. Plenty of others ended up drifting off to the more- lets say colorful sectors of Waypoint Shril. Police reported a small brawl down by the SOMEWHERE SOMEWHERE SOMEWHERE, no less than five people had to be taken to the nearby medic station and an entire pop-up artisanal sugar glass stand was destroyed. TUH-RAGIC.

     ABA! DAY II. LIP SYNC FOR YOUR LIFE
I know we all saw it, but hold on to your glitter gloss and pull up your grav-control shorts, because just talking about it is enough to give me the vapors. I can hardly believe what I just witnessed. Did anyone expect that raggedy bunch of Team 010 to turn around such a hot performance? I didn't know Calridians knew left from right, much less up from down but the next time I meet one in a bar I might just have to ask for a demonstration. But of course that wasn't all (PLEASE). If you're anyone who knows anyone, I'm sure you'll be hearing all about the big backstage blowup between those two teams - wow I sure do hope everyone recovers in time for tomorrow events - and who could forget when the stage tilted over and that poor sweet doll from Team Sparkle Ribbon went sliding off that terrible drop and got sliced to, well, ribbons by the laser light show (RIP. YOU WERE FABULOUS AND WAY TO SCORE SOME MAJOR POINTS FOR YOUR TEAM ON THE WAY OUT). Of course, nothing stands up to the entire stagebeing lit on fire - unless, of course, we're talking Miss Mystery's absolutely stunning display of, uhhhh… Well, that dress sure was something, wasn't it? ( *∵* )

OMS [tn: oh my sequins]! So, basically it was completely off the runway. What else can you say? I can barely wait to see what the ones who lived through that bring to the stage tomorrow. Still, I mean I know what you’re saying. You’re all 'Jaymez St. Jaymez St. Jaymez we didn’t come to you to hear what we all saw, even if we do love your dazzling and completely fresh take on the whole sitch.' No no, I know, you want to know what you couldn’t see on your holos. Ok so, you know Baranay Bartrold and his partner Aarara Ang? The pair who were disqualified in round three at the last ABA!!? Well, they’re back again, only this time they weren’t here for the competition. Rumor has it they’ve been taking cash and cred in exchange for SarSarSeven. You know, that completely wrong, oh-so-right concoction that’s said to give absolutely anyone an edge like no other? Of course everything’s got a price, and SarSar goes beyond the hefty price tag. They say that if you take too much of it, you’ll go completely off the rack (gag) and end end up, like, totally changed. Which may explain the attacks we’ve seen. Several groups of people have been found in various states of like, not so good, and people have reported seeing hairy, misshapen shapes in the shadows clinging to the buildings and lurking in the ventilation. It’s totally creep-central……. unless that’s your thing. I’m not about to yuck your yums sweet things.

Oh, and there was that tramp Garzield. I’ve been told I have to tell you that he held some tacky little off the books game show in some sketchy back lot just after the competition ended and gave away, like, some paltry thousands of Shen to any old rando that drifted in off the streets. Oh sure, he had like a wheel, some doors, and some bright lights but I think we can all agree that they just washed him out. Ugh. No one should wear that shade of chartreuse.

     ABA! DAY III. WAYPOINT WROBO WRESTLING FEDERATION
Get me a sparkling sizza water, because I’m burning up! You think things can’t get any bigger, any better, any bloodier, and then the competition begins! I’m still trying to process and I’m sure all you at home are too. But don’t you worry your sweet little heads, because I’m here to help you get your heads back on straight or sideways or any which way they’re supposed to go. I think we all knew this event was going to be big. I mean, 400 feet is nothing to sneeze at, but did we know it was going to be this big? I mean, first off, you had the fourth place finishers from last year who got in a hee-yooge blowout over whether their wrestler GARBAN THE FEARSOME was, like, an ex-con or an ex-cop? Everyone knows that’s not what it was really about - ahem- Still, you’d think that the way they were trying to fight themselves would make them an easy team to beat, but the team they were up against had a shrevil of a time figuring out how to fight someone who can’t be predicted at all. Then you had PARADA and GUCICI. Sure, they started out normal enough with a fairly rote ‘you stole the love of my life’ storyline, but the twist ending, where they were re-incarnated lovers? Gorgeous! I couldn’t take my eyes off the stage when their half-nelson turned into a full on full grope-sesh. I’ve never been more glad to be posted under the Aircon. And then there were the two teams that kept trying to out-heel each other. I mean, how many orphanages (yes, actual orphanges) did they each burn down? You’ll have to start making more orphans at this rate! Still, it made for a good show, and they really did know how to work the ropes, which you all know Jaymez appreciates.

Of course that's not all. During the day's matches, I hear there was QUITE the upset on Platform Alfa. Apparently some giant ship decided they didn't want to follow the rules and opted to jump the line to park and crashed straight into the platform (R-U-D-E). I won't bore you with the details (fire, explosions, the tragic death of the occasional bystander probably), but I can happily report that that particular ship won't be crashing into anyone else any time soon. The crew's been arrested, expecting of course the captain. Apparently the dastardly drog managed to escape into the crowd and confusion and make his way onto Waypoint Shril. So keep your eyes peeled for any shady looking Roanotian with a cut temple and a scorched jacket. He's probably trouble. >:(

In more RIDICULOUSLY EXCITING news (I know, I know - 'Jaymez St. Jaymez St. Jaymez, what could be more exciting than everything I've witnessed today?' but hold on and regulate your breathing, because this is going to give you an absolute fit), a little lilran told me today that if you hurry right along you might just catch the Late Night Hour with none other than THE Scrilliax Shann, the winner of the ABA! four years ago. Oh my glord, if she isn't just the definition of glamorous and everyone knows her parties are the pinnacle of stellarnomenal. GUH, I'm breaking a sweat just thinking about what it's going to be like. Of course, now this party is going to be exclusive, so I sure hope you have an invite. Apparently only the wildly spectacular (cough), the radically famous, or the stunningly gorgeous are going to have any hope of getting through the doors. But I promise, it'll be worth it. Sure, the last time I saw a holo of Scrilliax she had about five different beings following on their hands and tentacles after her but honestly - not a bad way to live.

     ABA! DAY IV-V. CATCH YOUR BREATH
[Just a clearly heavily staged (and digitally '~*~enhanced~*~') video of Jaymez St. Jaymez St. Jaymez fanning themselves. It's on loop. There is quite a lot of product placement for a five second clip.]

     ABA! DAY VI. LEGENDS OF THE BEAST NINJA GLADIATOR WARRIOR MASTER
I’m- I’m sorry. I just need a second. Flob, my mascara is running, I must look like a total mess. But can you blame me? I am just - floored. Overwhelmed. Like, completely blasted. It feels like I’ve been blasted by the solar winds on Plezas Twelve. This. Was. Incredible. Like, these are the times you think like, wow, I’m so like lucky to be here. To be as fabulous as I am so that I had a chance to stand here and witness some of the most impressive feats of strength and skill and - let's be honest - pure friendship we saw here today. I don’t know if I’ve ever cried harder than I did when Shivarana was hanging from that cage by her one slender clawed feeding arm while Garavan, who had already fallen into the slip-mud earlier in the round finally admitted that she loved her. An incredible upset. And then there was the temple fun-run, where one of the trailing teams managed to successfully guess the correct door seven times in a row before being grabbed by one of the guardians. My head is absolutely spinning. And then there was the team challenge, where one team ended up stuck halfway through their passage and had to make the tough call to cut half of their team off - literally. I’m still not sure how they broke the chain, but it was fully legal. Still, going into the finale at half-strength… Well, I don’t envy them. We lost so many great teams in this challenge. Fargarvaragarvarava will never be able to afford her surgery now. It’s just so heartbreaking. But that pain only makes the victories sweeter, right? And let me tell you, we’ll be popping bottles of sugar water tonight.

Now, if you're like me then you might need some time to recover before you face tomorrow (I am. NOT. READY.). Luckily, that should be totally doable thanks to the ABA!s brave security force. What's that? You don't know what happened? Oh my darlings, I hate to break the news but during the competition there was an unprecedented threat against the Judges lives and all our happiness. Apparently in the middle of today's event, an assassin attempted to get a line on our beloved trendsetters. If you thought for a moment that Saldo Saldo's amazingly mysterious shape looked momentarily unnerved, why it wasn't your imagination. Luckily, the assassin was foiled before anything terrible could occur. Which, like, thank the stars. I don't know what I'd do without them.

But I DO know I certainly wouldn't be caught dead room sharing with a bunch of defunct competitors. Did you know that when you get ejected from the competition, you lose your room and board? Which means that a bunch of shambles of teams are looking for places to crash for the rest of the week. Eughk. Get a job, losers.

KISS KISS, MY LITTLE SAINTS. I can't wait to see what tomorrow has in store for us. We’ll be heading into the last and final event - and we’ll get to meet this year’s victors. Stay with me! I’ve been, am, and will be Jaymez St. Jaymez St. Jaymez, reporting from Waypoint Shril, for this Aurora Blue Arena!!

((OOC NOTES: This log is the catch-all for all ABA! Events, excluding the Demolition Man Derby and Awards Ceremony on Day :039. You'll notice the structure of this is… atypical. Feel free to glom on to absolutely any of the above hooks and prompts and go absolutely wild with them. No drama is too minor, no explosion too large. However feel free to also create your own logs concurrent to these happenings if nothing catches your eye. That said, please don't log or thread anything beyond Day :039 - you never know when things might wrap up with an unexpected bang. For full details of the events, please see the WAYPOINT SHRIL, PT.2 post. If you have any additional questions, don't hesitate to drop us a note on the Mod Contact page.

'Wait, can I NPC this character?' When it doubt, the answer is probably yes. Use your best judgement, but we encourage you to go wild. Should you desire mod input or for us to bounce into a thread, feel free to reach out to us and we'll be happy to accommodate. We may also be threadjacking some of these threads, however don't feel compelled to wait for us to do so. Have fun and don't get killed!))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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I. WAKE UP, LITTLE SUSIE, WAKE UP
CIRCA. NINETEEN-FIFTY-EIGHT

[Stefan may not be used to a swimming sense of calm, a stillness to his mind and body, that reminds him of early mornings and a desire to sink back into sleep- to avoid prying his eyes open and keeping whatever he'll find a problem for another day- but he can't help an absurd form of gratitude, the moment he really does blink and see where he is.

This small coffin-like chamber might not be a safe, and the room that lays beyond might be more smooth, shiny metal than thick water and the bottom of a quarry- but Stefan's first instinct is to vacate it as soon as possible. He gets the impression that the tube he has to pry off the back of his head, might have hurt quite a bit more had he simply thrown himself forward and towards the ladder, than the more delicate extraction he did perform.

As it stands- it hurts enough. Reminds him of the way that Bonnie used to burst the vessels in his head, watch them heal, and do it over again- sharp and all consuming, white hot- and then it's over. In the space it takes him to breathe through it, his vision clears, and he can move. It's hasty when he does- so much so, that he almost misses the fact that a few of his personal items have been removed, and are lying in wait for him just before the exit. A ring he doesn't need, and another he'd hoped never to have to remove. He pauses only long enough to slide them on and then continues down the ladder.

As startled as he is to have no recollection of anything after his supposed rescue- he breathes easier the moment his feet touch the ground. The small relief it brings, doesn't last- doesn't, because he notices that he isn't the only one here. There are other chambers, some vacated and some with others inside- and the unease only grows when he steps closer to them, and the clamour on the edges of his mind swells, and a pressure builds behind his eyes.

Something- it's tugging him past this space, to somewhere that feels vast and incomprehensible, and he lets it. Let's it, because he's not sure how to shake the unease at standing before them, wondering at the ethics of leaving them there without attempting to wake them- and the dangers if he did, are something he can't begin to comb over without any information. And standing like a deer caught in the headlights of a too shiny room is the last method that's going to help find it.

It's not Prince that he expects to greet him when he does finally stop lingering around, but the woman who'd reached out to him in the first place. But that doesn't stop him from circling back to him instead of choosing to hunt down Cathaway. Prince feels still, in a way that Stefan can't explain, and Cathaway- she feels like a roadmap, long and winding.

He is lost enough already.]

Why is it so loud?

[And more importantly, how does he make it stop? It's perhaps not a question of the highest priority or even one with much clarity, but it's the place he feels the most out of sorts- the thing preventing him from following any one thought to it's conclusion, and at least- it's a start]

II. SO YOU BETTER GET THIS PARTY STARTED
CIRCA. TWO-THOUSAND-ONE

[If he'd thought the place he'd woken had been bad- the actual platform he finds himself on a little over twenty four hours later, is like a living nightmare. It's loud- as much for the actual noise level as the the way that it looks- flashing lights and bright colours, in the beings inhabiting it and the ships trying to fight their way to place to unload without creating a collision, and he's never been so grateful to be human.

It's overwhelming for his senses as they are, and the pressure that had been building behind his eyes has increased to a dull throb. He takes a moment to press his thumbs into the corners of his eyes, and then with the conclusion that he's unlikely to feel any better until he he finds somewhere quieter to hole up in, he starts to press himself into the crowd. It's thick- enough that he has to correct his course several times, feeling more like he's being carried by a current, than simply trying to walk from Point A to B.

Stefan adds a tension to his shoulders, sets his jaw- the very picture of being unapproachable. If nothing else, his absurdly long life has been useful in learning how to isolate himself, without necessarily having to interact and brush anyone off at all- and it ensures that no one, none of the too eager to help beings, with sharp focused eyes, latch onto him and try to help. Unfortunately, it means he's having some trouble picking out some of his fellow hosts in all the clutter.

It's after he's finished twisting his arm at an unnatural angle for the third time, and ducked under an absurdly drawn out collar, that he gives up entirely. When he straightens, he's smacked in the face by one large, feathery wing- enough to make him stumble back- one eye squeezed shut to stem off how much it wants to water, and feathers caught in his mouth.

He pulls out as much as he can, and spits the rest out onto the ground, nose wrinkling in distaste, and then simply stays exactly where he is, crowd or not]

Somehow- I've found Hell. [It's wry, and definitely not true, if he's done his job correctly- but it's the only explanation for all- of this, that he can accept]

III. AND THIS IS OPEN SEASON
CIRCA. TWO-THOUSAND-FIFTEEN

( this is your "make it up as you go along" option )

( it's only been a couple days since the first of the new hosts woke up, and now there's a whole new batch. after the weeks that went by between damon's awakening and the first newbies, it seems like the nest wants to make up for lost time. preparation for the tournament is in full swing, and damon's got his hands full working with kavinsky, but he always likes to be abreast of what's going on in his community — back in mystic falls being aware of everything was how he kept himself and the people important to him safe, and now it's just habit. he makes his way to the platform as soon as he's able, london perched on his shoulder, and lets his mind wander, searching for the spark of another host.

he finds it just as london spread his wings and bumps into it, and for a moment damon can't see who the new host is. when london settles, damon goes very still, staring as his brother spits feathers on the ground and frowns. stefan hasn't noticed him. he could disappear before he did, take a couple hours to adjust to this before he seeks out his brother again.

it's been months since he's seen him, though, and the knowledge of where he's been since then sits heavy on damon's shoulders. klaus' plaything, all to save him. he wasn't worth it. still isn't. the least he can do is roll out the welcome wagon. )

I don't know, ( he says finally, head tilted to the side. ) It's got its charm. Haven't met someone here I can't compel yet, so it's got that going for it.

Damon.

[It's barely more than a breath- winded, as if Damon had reached out and sucker punched him in the sternum, instead of simply speaking. His head snaps up so quickly that it hurts, teeth clacking painfully together, eyes wide.

Everything about this is so wrong.

His brother shouldn't be here. Stefan can't determine how much time had passed since he'd been rescued and he'd arrived- but it was enough that Damon should have been free from harm. Damon should have woken up in an underground tunnel in Mystic Falls, perhaps sore from the fall when Stefan had pushed him- but painfully, wondrously alive. He should have had to contend with the gravity of what the new found breath in his lungs meant, see the spot where Stefan and Katherine had been standing and-

And felt nothing but loss. Or maybe hatred anew. Stefan had agreed to be rescued, because he believed that it was the only way to save Damon. He squeezes his eyes shut, to stem the way they water for an entirely different reason, angry at himself. The woman had promised that Katherine would still die, that Damon would be safe- she hadn't said how. In accepting her hand, had he just damned him all over again?

But then how had his brother gotten here before him?

He opens his mouth to say something, stalls- eyes flitting across Damon's features like he can't quite decide which part of him he wants to take in first. He looks the way that Stefan remembers- unharmed, though definitely dressed, that same annoying furrow to his brow- he looks the same, and it starts to tower over everything else.

There's still so much of this that's wrong, but as the shock, as the worry starts to settle in across his mind like an old friend, he realizes the most important aspect that for this to be wrong, Damon is actually here.

Stefan had never expected to see him again. Had expected the others would assume he'd perished with Katherine like he'd planned. That he the cure would catch up to him here, so many worlds away, and the last person he'd ever see, was likely to be a stranger.

Instead of responding, Stefan presses his mouth together in a thin line, takes a step forward and rushing through the next two until the distance between them is bridged, until he all but crashes into Damon, one arm coming up to wrap around his shoulder, fingers digging painfully there, the other winds around Damon's back and keeps him close]

It's- It's good to see you, brother. [It's thick, and far too wet- and the understatement of the century]

( that... isn't the reaction damon was expecting. he couldn't say what he had been expecting, really, just that this wasn't it. stefan reacts like he's been punched, losing his breath and staring at damon with watery eyes, and yeah, okay, damon figured that life with klaus was bad, but he hadn't thought it'd leave stefan like this. from all the "animal attack" news that liz had passed on, it'd seemed as though stefan was enjoying himself well enough.

apparently not. apparently it was worse than damon had even thought while he stayed up late, drinking and staring at newspaper clippings, or taking roadtrips with ric and andie, trying to figure out where klaus was going and why. so much worse that stefan is hugging him.

damon doesn't return the hug, but he does lean into it. only for a moment, because almost immediately london's screeched and flown at stefan's face, talons outstretched. he was pushed aside as stefan's arm came up around damon's shoulder, and he apparently didn't appreciate it. luckily, he's still small, so he can't do much, but his displeasure is clear. )

London, quit it, ( damon says, voice harsh, but he pulls away from stefan and holds his arm out for the bird. ...bird-thing. he's not actually sure what london really is. he behaves enough like a bird, though, landing on damon's arm and clicking his beak at him. )

Have a good summer? ( he asks blithely, running a finger down london's chest as though he's not actually all that interested in the answer. his eyes are sharp on stefan, though, his mind already reaching across the link, trying to get a sense of stefan's state of mind. is he the ripper? is he safe for elena to be around? )

[Damon leans into it, and for a moment, Stefan can breath again- but it's only a moment, because he's forced to duck once more, arm instinctively raising to protect his face. The last thing he wants to receive is a scratch that won't heal quickly, from some sort of alien bird carrying who knows what sort of bacteria- or eat any more feathers.

It does however, make for a nice distraction. Allows Stefan to straighten up and listen distantly to Damon berate the bird-like creature- London, apparently- and put the majority of his focus towards the opener that has finally begun to sink in. On the fact that more is wrong than his brother simply being here.

It's Damon who's wrong]

Nice bodyguard.

[It's distant- distracted. He says it only because Damon will expect him to say something, and rolls back over the one singular word, like a scratched record only capable of playing one stanza on an endless loop- compel. Had he not only condemned his brother to this- unique existence, but failed in undoing the one thing that he'd wished he could take back, his entire 154 years on Earth?

His right hand, bandage intact comes up to press over his mouth, thumb dragging across his lower lip in thought, eyes scanning the too thick crowd, and flashing lights. All this clutter, and it's so hard to think]

That's- [His brow furrows, thrown off kilter a little more. When he finally answers it's slow, deliberate- he wants more information out of Damon now, than he wants to give it in return. Something- Damon, he suspects on proximity alone, brushes against his mind- and rather than recoiling like he might have done years ago, he simply shoves his hands into his pockets in a far more casual stance, and attempts to avoid thinking of anything in particular. Anything but how absolutely irritating he finds this immediate space. He can't do anything about the worry that's only thickened since their time together started, or the far too quick heart rate] That's awfully specific. Why are you asking me that?

One of the other hosts got him for me. He knows I like crows.

( the words are casual, said as damon turns his focus from stefan back to london, despite how strange they must sound to someone who hasn't been here more than a day. damon knows how weird this is — honestly, it's still weird to him, most of the time — but stefan's not going to adjust if he doesn't hear people talking like it's normal.

stefan covers his mouth with his hand, and even with his attention on london, damon still takes note of the bandage covering it. he's shoving around in stefan's mind already, picking it apart and looking for anything that's off — not as effective as it would be if they were in the same brood, but enough so that he can tell that stefan isn't distraught by much more than the crowd and the fact that damon is here. the bandage is strange, but not life-threatening, which quiets the sudden spike of terror he'd felt upon noticing it — stefan hasn't suffered a werewolf bite. he's okay. )

Well, it's just been so long since I've seen you, Stef. I wanted to catch up on my baby brother's whirlwind murder tour of the east coast with everyone's favourite psychopathic original vampire.

( She's only looking for Damon.

Elena's gotten pretty good at picking apart his imprint from the crowd, and she doesn't bother to announce herself as she goes in search of him. What's the point, right? He's usually waiting for her to arrive at any given point anyway, so what if for once she's the one to get the jump on him. If Damon hadn't been distracted he likely would have realised that Elena was searching for him anyway, and she's got no reason to think that there's anything that would take his focus so completely that he wouldn't feel her scratching at the corners of his mind.

After all, only someone like Stefan could do that, right?

Elena doesn't see the bandage, because she doesn't even see Stefan at first. She's finding Damon, sees him talking to someone, sees his weird bird thing, and she's approaching with a casual look as close to a grin as Elena ever really gets lately. And then she stops.

As soon as she sees Stefan she's aware of his presence. Just like that it's everywhere, she can barely pull apart what is her and what is him, what is Damon and what is Stefan, and she feels like she's choking.

It's been just enough time for her to forget the terror, forget the awful sickening feeling when he confirmed her worst nightmares. What are you, she'd said, and for a moment that's all she can hear, all she can think. It's different now, she's different now, but for a moment she isn't.

When she rushes up to the two of them, the first announcement is the wave of anger that immediately precedes her interrupting their conversation. She'll probably regret it later, probably immediately after, and Damon will probably be able to guess what is about to happen before Stefan has a chance to react, but for a split second she's overwhelmed. Fear and anger and frustration and loss all courses through her, and here's the face to all of it.

She doesn't say hello, doesn't embrace him, doesn't even shout. She just storms up, and her first response is to pull back a fist and swing it squarely at him.

Hi, Stefan. )

Are you done yet? [It's a clipped sentence, sharpest at the last word. He might have grown to trust his brother- enough that the presence of his mind against his, wasn't enough to send Stefan recoiling, but it doesn't mean he's exactly eager to be a passive participant to whatever this is.

It's uncomfortable, in a way that compulsion isn't. Compulsion is only a problem for the individual when there's gaps in memory because one hasn't bothered to replace it with a new one, when there's no reasoning for the thing they've done- something they have to rove over again and again with no altering outcome. It's in the aftermath- when a vampire dies or the victim transitions, and everything comes flooding back, with no explanation. When they finally decipher what's happened. But compulsion is quick, easy- a suggestion that sticks.

This? This is a presence he can feel, and it isn't still. It touches over every part of his mind, he imagines it like oil, sliding slow and thick, down into every crevice. Unlike the the weight rooted to the back of his head, the thing he'd woken up with- he can't help feeling like it doesn't belong. He can't even touch upon where Damon got the bird- hosts. It's a concept best left alone, until he has some space to think.]

I don't even know what you're doing. [It's a complaint, more for fuss than because he believes it'll actually inspire Damon to stop or offer a real explanation. Is he trying to read his mind? Is he looking for something specific, a memory, a feeling? Or trying to memorize the feel of Stefan's mind against his own? Or something else entirely? A creepy mind link is not at all how Invasion of the Body Snatchers went, and that begins and ends his foray into this sort of science fiction.

It's why he's glad, in part, when he catches a flick of long, familiar brown hair. It gains all his immediate attention, breath catching in his throat- for an entirely different reason than it used to. It's been so long since he'd seen her, awake and moving around, he's so glad- and then he isn't. He's feeling sick, low in the pit of his stomach and spreading outwards, something like fear that shifts and grows until it's darker, more violent-

And it takes him until she's right before him, whole body swinging back, before he realizes fully, that it isn't even originating with him. Still, even if he had noticed- he wouldn't have moved, and the punch lands, splitting the corner of his lower lip and snapping his head to the side. He staggers, just slightly.

It's a far cry from how he might have reacted only months before- would have turned with the motion to avoid hurting her hand, but been otherwise an unmovable object. He stays still a moment, until he feels like he can separate his feelings from hers, touches his fingertips to the little well of blood, and straightens]

Elena. [It's- still faintly awed, mouth quirking even around the smallest twitch of pain at the motion. He can't stop his eyes from roving over every inch of her face, as if he needs to commit her to memory, like in just a moment- she'll disappear, or fall asleep, and he truly will never see her again.

Her presence, in this moment, overrides everything else. Including the absolutely terrifying realization that the last thing Damon remembers is so many years ago for him. If he ignores it- it's unlikely to stop being true, it's something he can come back to, in just a minute. She takes precedence. Then again, from their point of view- for him, she always has]

( damon is actually done by now, but stefan's pissy question makes him stay just a little longer. bothering his younger brother is his sacred duty as an older brother, and this apparently pisses stefan off a lot. he's confirmed that stefan is... alright, mostly. for a given value of alright, anyway. he isn't tearing apart at the seams, so hungry he's struggling with it, or so far gone he'd be a danger to elena.

elena. he should tell stefan about her. damon extricates himself from stefan's mind at last, mouth open with words he doesn't particularly want to say — they were doing so well here on their own, they were friends, without stefan to make things hard for them or weird for her — but the words don't come out. if he hadn't been distracted by stefan's presence, he would have felt her earlier, but he becomes aware of elena only a moment before she actually joins them, striding forward with the fury in her mind bleeding through to theirs. he could probably stop her, if he wanted to. he knows what she's about to do, has seen that particular jut to her jaw more times than he'd like to count.

he doesn't stop her. she swings her fist back and the corner of his mouth twitches up, but his amusement ends about the time he sees stefan reel back — not like damon does, when he wants to keep her from hurting herself on his face, but like the blow actually hurt. the scent of blood hits his nostrils, and damon — damon's intimately familiar with the differences between vampire and human blood. he knows how both smell and taste, and there are differences. they're subtle, imperceptible to a human, but damon is not human.

his brother, on the other hand, is bleeding like he is. )

Stefan?

( it's all he can come up with, at the moment, but he's sure it conveys the source of his confusion well enough for someone who's known him as long as stefan has. )

( Now, she's been working with Misato to improve her general fighting ability. Elena's skills were...abysmal, quite frankly, prior to investing the time in training, but it's been a couple of weeks and things are slowly getting better. Emphasis on the slowly, but the increased strength that comes with the symbiote wired into her system helps things along. All this adds up to an Elena who might not be able to do a lot of damage, but a punch certainly hurts.

Damon might be able to pick up on the difference in the scent of blood that drips from his lip, Elena can feel the difference in the ache that explodes in her knuckles. It hurts, because thrusting your fist into anyone's face hurts, but it's nothing like the rock solid point of contact that Damon's face had presented.

This is becoming a bit of a habit for Elena's Salvatore reunions.

When she sees the blood she steps back sharply, as if it hadn't occurred to her that she might actually hurt him. Honestly it kind of hadn't, the last she'd seen of him had been as a vampire. Actually the last time she'd seen Stefan he'd been running after her as she fled his house, but he'd certainly not been vulnerable like this. Her first reaction is to sharply turn her head to look at Damon, eyes wide and jaw dropped, and then she's staring back at Stefan.

She cradles her fist in her hand, holds it close to her chest, and gapes.

What is she supposed to make of this, exactly? )

What is going on?

( It's the same question that she can hear in Damon's voice. )

It's okay.

[In the face of their confusion, in the way that Elena cradles her hand to her chest, like his reaction had hurt more than her knuckles cracking into his teeth- it's as instinctive as it ever was, to entirely change his tactics. To go from what might have once been bland, to soft, soothing.

The two of them, for various differing reasons- make him think of skittish animals in this moment, one wrong move-]

It's already stopped bleeding. [It's as reassuring for Elena and the guilt she must be starting to feel, if he knows her as well as he thinks he does, as it is to stall. He knows- he knows that isn't what they're asking. It isn't as if it's abnormal for a vampire to become injured, if the right amount of force is applied. It's that though the bleeding might have stopped, only stings mildly, when his mouth stretches to accommodate speech, and the gentle smile he adopts- it hasn't healed.

If Damon- if Damon was being honest, instead of just pulling his leg, all of this just became so much more complicated than being rescued to some kind of intergalactic station with an alien creature hitching a ride in his mind. Than just being here with some of the very people he'd been trying to protect]

It's- [He starts, then stops. He knows- he knows at a base level that too much has happened, more than he can possibly explain to either of them, more than he ever wants to. A lot of it made dealing with Klaus, in hindsight, seem far too easy. It would be kinder to spare them, until they had no choice to go through it themselves] been a few years, since the last thing that you remember, Damon.

[It's the most mild way he can think of to phrase it. To partially answer the question, and figure out one little extra bit of information. If Elena remembers the same. She'd so very rarely struck him, being the sort of person who tended to prefer pacifism when allowed- but there'd been times when his behaviour warranted it. Was it fleeing, on top of this place, that made her want to lash out? Or something worse? Like the time he'd refused to care about Jeremy's life? A night on a bridge? Abandoning them to their concern, when he'd had no memories?]

Is that the last thing you remember, Elena? That I left? Is that why you're angry with me?

Oh, that's reassuring, ( damon hisses, grabbing stefan and pulling him closer, inspecting the cut on his lip. london caws and takes off from his shoulder, leaving small tears in his shirt that he doesn't even pay attention to. distantly, damon is a little proud — elena's learned a lot with misato, she couldn't have punched like this before — but more than anything else he's terrified, heart in his throat. )

You're not healing, Stefan.

( it's a statement of fact, but said more like an accusation, like stefan is choosing not to heal. damon knows it doesn't work that way, it's just what their bodies do, but what other explanation could there possibly be? he knows elena, says it's been years since the last thing damon remembers from home. he can't be human because there's no such thing as a cure for vampirism, but he sure as hell is bleeding like one. )

She remembers even less than I do, ( he says, tone clipped. elena can speak for herself, would probably be more annoyed by damon speaking for her than anything, but he... he wants to be a buffer between them, somehow. ) She'd just figured out the vampire thing when she showed up. She decked me too.

[ There is a young woman waiting for the ship when they arrive at the Waypoint. A pretty blonde with solemn eyes and sullen lips. She gives away very little telepathically, she has a careful and pointed chill around her, which belies the polite greetings she provides. ]

Hello. What is your name?

[If waking had been crippling- sharp pain and fluctuating voices and feelings that simply did not belong, and his arrival here had been overwhelming, claustrophobic and loud- than the lithe blonde immediately in his path is a reprieve.

In comparison to the chaos around them, her presence is quiet, unobtrusive. The chill she carries around her is far from off putting- compared to the openness of others, it's refreshing- welcome. And he's no stranger to it, having cultivated his own sense of it, during portions of his life, in the name of survival.

It's why he lingers instead of brushing her off, in an eagerness to get out of the surrounding space, and offers a hand to her with a rather stilted smile]

It's Stefan. And you are?

[ Her response to the offered hand carries one brief hitch of hesitation. Shaking hands is not a custom from her world, but she has seen it done often enough, and she returns the gesture. She has rough hands for such a young woman. Her life is, comparably, easy within the Station now, but she is a consummate gardener all the same. Bare hands among the dirt, the weeds, the thorns. ]

My name is Ilde.

[ Personally, she doesn't even pretend to smile. It isn't a common expression, and that is obvious in her. ]

I will be returning with Cathaway, when she is ready, but... I remember that the first days are difficult. My brood had the luxury to acclimate on the Station.

[ A note of thoughtful sympathy that he, and so many others, have not been given the time and space. ]

[Compared to her easy elegance, the rough skin of her hands is something he finds a bit surprising, only present in a quick spike across the mental link, and the quirk of his brows. He wonders at it, only for the possibility that this place is a bit more dangerous than he might have previously expected. He's too used to danger always being present, that the frequent handling of weapons is his first inclination as to why a callous would appear.

Still, he knows better than to touch around such a topic, only moments after getting here. After shaking her hand firmly, he shoves his hands into his pockets, unbothered by her lack of a return smile]

Ilde. [A beat where he tries it out, though pretty, an utterly uncommon name within rural America] Thank you for greeting me.

[Even if he can think of better avenues to engage in meeting other people, if he must do so at all, this is definitely a better method of acclimatizing than being thrown into the deep end of the waypoint on his own.

His brow furrows slightly, at the idea that she'll be returning to the station, either on her own or with a few other hosts. He'd been under the impression that their presence here was mandatory, of a sort. His confusion might be telegraphed clearly enough, but he'll be broaching one topic at a time]

Is that an uncommon luxury?

The luxury comes and goes, as we do. We have had hosts, here in Shril, for seven days. Before this, we spent that and twenty more within the Station. Hosts awoke during that time as well.

[ Hatchings did not seem to wait for when it was convenient. ]

But there have not been any hatches as large as when my brood and I awoke. The majority of three broods awoke together.

[ From her perspective, that had been much more unpleasant than potentially being thrown off the Station within a day or two. There had been too many new minds colliding at once. With one or two new hosts able to take guidance from their elders, that was much easier. ]

We do not choose the manner of our birth, however.

[ Maybe kind of a joke, Ilde doesn't really do that either, not any more than she's prone to smiling. ]

[ It's not that they look alike, not really. Maybe it's the nose or the jawline, the way he carries himself, something she can't quite put her finger on, but it's there. The man is similar to Damon somehow and by now she has spent enough time with the vampire if not unwittingly stepping directly into his mind, to sense that this new Host is of significance to him.

In the crush of bodies and exoskeletons and errant claws and whiskers, Misato takes far too long to finally reach him, after he's already been smacked by a half-eagle half-manatee alien with no concept of personal space. But, really, she's not one to talk, promptly reaching to grab him by the upper arm so she can start dragging him off toward the side, where there's relatively more room to breathe and to be. ]

Phew, man. It's like a warzone.

[There's nothing he misses about the undead creature he used to be- especially not here, where all his heightened senses would only have been a determent to him- but he would have been an immovable object, and strange girls nimbly moving amongst the crowd wouldn't have been able to snatch up his arm, much less started dragging him further into the din of it.

He doesn't try to dig his heels and make it more difficult for her, larger as his body mass is, simply because there's something about her that tickles against the edge of his awareness- a fellow Host, precisely the sort of person he'd been venturing out in this to find. And, she's making a beeline for the only clear bit of space left on the entire platform.

He might be following, letting her keep a hold on his arm so they don't get separated by the crush of bodies on their way- but he'll be shaking his arm free as soon as the clearing approaches. Still- there's a vague tinge of amusement on his features]

Guess that makes you my knight in shining armour.

[ Misato lets him go to cross her own arms over her chest, an accomplished smile slowly spreading on her lips. It's partly contrived, sure, meant to make him feel at ease by accepting his quip. Not that she actually minds. A knight sounds like a nice thing to be, strong, a fighter, self-determining, out to fight dragons rather than home weaving banners while fretting over absent lovers. ]

Sure.

[ She narrows her eyes, too perceptibly. ]

I'm Misato. Who are you again?

[ If there are more polite ways to ask that question, she doesn't care to know. ]

I never volunteered that.

[If anything, the narrowed eyes, like there's something she just can't quite put her finger on- make him want to avoid doing so. It's nothing personal, has nothing to do with whether or not he finds her suspicious. At the moment at least, he doesn't. She'd come to fetch him out of that death trap, made her way to the platform to induct the new hosts into things- whether because she'd particularly wanted to or not- and he's not exactly the type to spurn help when it's offered.

It's only left over habit. From someone used to being the little brother, from someone who'd been raised a gentleman and never quite lost the desire to roll his eyes at rudeness, even that just born out of impatience.

Still, the urge doesn't last long, and soon enough he's making an attempt at a smile]

Stefan. It's a pleasure.

[Sort of]

You'll never get anywhere if you only take what's offered.

[ Life motto. She even sounds proud of the matter, even if another person might easily interpret his hesitation as something else. Ignorance is borne out of stubbornness too, and she has that in plenty. ]

I'm not hitting on you or anything, but you remind me of someone. Really.

[Another human, attempting to make his way through a press of aliens, is something immediately noticeable. Even here. Even with all the bustle and business around them. Humans are a minority. They stand out.]

[He's keeping off to one side, at that cafe Pidge had found, earlier. It's quiet, out of the way, and most aliens seem to be avoiding it. Probably something to do with the Waypoint's version of a "no shirt no shoes no service" sign. But it suits him fine.]

[He stands, however, reaching out to the man as he passes by. Even if he can't tell this guy as a Nest member or not, you should reach out to your fellow man. Right? Beckoning with an armored hand.]

[Because, yes, he's still wearing his black and white Paladin armor.]

There's a break over here.

[There's a moment where he hesitates.

A man encased in armour isn't exactly something he's used to seeing, having lived more years than most are granted, or not. It makes him fit right in with the landscape, with the outlandish glittery method of dress, and the high feathered collars. Like a fashion runway on crack.

Even with the weird dress- he's not exactly in a position to look a gift horse in the mouth, and the potential to find more answers as to exactly what sections of the waypoint that he should be avoiding, or even frankly, what counts as edible. Small things he actually has to care about, now that he's newly human]

Thanks.

[He fills it into the silence, before he gives off more of an impression that the interruption was unwelcome, and makes his way over to him. The look he shoots him is partially grateful, and he extends his hand for a shake. He figures if he's managed to idle time in a cafe in his armour, he's probably got a bit of a handle on not breaking things he isn't supposed to]

I'm Stefan. I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess a spot like this is pretty rare?

[He'd thought the actual landing platform was bad, but the rest of the area doesn't look too much better]

Ever since their competition started, yeah. This place has gotten even busier.

[he shakes hands, something simple, easy. Nothing posturing or attempting to crush the life out of the new guy's fingers. He's grateful, at the moment, that the armor hides his arm. There's an explanation he doesn't feel like getting into, in this crowd.]

[So yes, Stefan's assumption is a correct one.]

You just got here, didn't you? [His voice drops, to a tone just between the two of them, even if the general street noise makes it hard to eavesdrop, regardless.] From the station?

[He can feel it off him. Feel another mind like his. There's not the connection there was with people from his... team... for lack of a better word. But enough to where he can tell.]

[This guy was from their Nest. Station. Thing.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

WAYPOINT SHRIL, PT.2

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so you better get this party started

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Ilde Option

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II.

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2

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