station72 | [hatch log] everything happens so much

[hatch log] everything happens so much

CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :039
SUMMARY: New faces and old losses - a hatch occurs and a number of older hosts go comatose. Coma'd hosts include all auto-piloted dropped characters to date.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

NEW HATCHES
YOU WAKE UP and suddenly you're a different person. No. That's not right. You're you and there's no suddenly about it. It's been a while, hasn't it? It feels like waking up from a very deep, extended sleep or like surfacing up from the darkness of the ocean and right there in your own head there's something both familiar and strange. You know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye. While it’s impossible to tell exactly how long ago or how exactly you escaped the danger that had been breathing down your neck, you're certain 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 once 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. The closer you are to these stranger, the louder the sound in your head becomes. --Actually they're not quite strangers either, are they? Something is wound about and between you and these people, whoever they are, are as familiar as this place you've never been is.

Welcome to Station 72. The air buzzes with activity. Somewhere deep in the Station, other minds call to yours. They are bright, brilliantly celebratory spots in your subconscious. They are sun-warm gentle, or they are fire and the taste of ash, or they are a vibrant frenetic whirl, or they are a tangled garden, or they are the feeling of flight through dense cirrus clouds. No two links are exactly the same, but you know for certain that you are connected to all of them in at least some small way.

Which is why it's easy to tell when something goes terribly wrong:

OLD HOSTS
THE ENDORPHIN RUSH of making it back to Station 72 (relatively) unharmed, having successfully acquired exactly what you'd set out to get your hands on can't be denied. Even if you're not necessarily the type to celebrate, there's no ignoring the thrumming celebratory sensation from those Hosts who are.

After a few hours of being back in the void, something else stirs in the air: the clear, prickling sensation of new hosts hatching on the Nesting Deck. They're a rush of mental information - as if someone's turned the volume on the radio all the way up -, a cacophony of sensation and emotional feedback for anyone unprepared to shield against it.

The swell of feeling might make it easy to miss what follows immediately after: the dull, gut-deep quiet as The Darkling, Chuuya Nakahara, and Nasu Rei go suddenly comatose.

((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new hosts. Feel free to make your own logs and posts additional to this if you care do. You can find a more detailed overview of the hatching process HERE. You can find additional setting information about the Station HERE If you have any questions, please hit up either the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What it is to me is that you are broadcasting.

[The shock is something she's gotten used to. She takes a moment to allow Asuka to adjust to her presence in the room before closing some of the distance, one rotting ear twitching. Where the younger woman's hunger is lacking, Seviilia's is almost palpable -- but it won't be quenched by the meal she has in front of her.

And her anger only perpetuates it, and the pains that come with it. The question is an easy one, but she suspects it is only there to wash away the shock of seeing her. So:]

Any answer I give you, you will likely find foreign. Do you still want to know?

Yeah, well, sorry.

[ There's not really an apology in her voice. She's frustrated and still adjusting and even if she'd rather not broadcast her thoughts to everyone around her, her inclination is still to go on to the attack rather than back down. She shoves the tray of microwaved food away from her and tracks the movement of Seviilia's ear.

This is weird. ]

Of course I want to know. What kind of question is that? Everything here is new!

You are not.

[Said offhandedly as she gives Asuka one long appraisal before answering the question as asked.]

I am a death knight. Elven.

[She's fierce -- she can appreciate that, especially in such a young human. After all, for humans her age on Azeroth, Seviilia's kind was something of a boogieman.]

And you, I assume, are human. You'll find that you are in the majority here.

Death knight? Elven? That sounds like something out of a movie.

[ Asuka frowns. She can't really think of it as being any kind of lie, though. She's here, isn't she? She went through Third Impact. Anything's possible at this point. She settles her chin in her hand with a frown, still staring at Seviilia. ]

Yeah, I'm human. I didn't realize there'd be actual aliens here or whatever.

[ No offense, Seviilia. ]

Do you approach all the newbies or am I just special?

Perhaps. I encourage you to wake, if you t hink this might be a dream.

[Seviilia finds herself scoffing at the use of the word 'alien'. She isn't the first, but that doesn't make it any less amusing to hear. She supposes, in a way, that she is an alien. She's heard of other humans speak of 'Earth' before, a planet that was otherwise unknown to her.]

You are special. A special sort of furious.

Dream? No. This isn't a dream.

[ She's seen too much weird shit to believe that this is a dream. Instead she finds herself frowning a little at the mention of being a special sort of furious. She bristles slightly, drumming her fingers against the table with a scowl. Then again, she does like being called 'special'. ]

What does that even mean? Stop being so obtuse/em>. And what's your name? At least introduce yourself properly!

[This is the moment where Seviilia decides to take a seat, privately lamenting the fact that anger did not fall under the umbrella of emotions and reactions that would keep her from going hungry. Asuka would be a neverending wellspring.]

Being obtuse is a cultural elven tradition. I am insulted to find that it frustrates you.

[Lying, of course. She takes a pause to fill in the question she doesn't really feel any obligation to answer. In truth, she's just looking to see what the next reaction will be. Its a new and interesting game.]

Perhaps when you find yourself capable of quieting your own thoughts, you will in turn feel other's. That is how I found you -- your's are rather vibrant, and that is why you are special.

[Another pause.]

I am Seviilia.

[ Asuka is definitely a well-spring of something. Anger, loneliness, regret. At least right now. She wasn't incapable of positive emotions; she's just had the rug repeatedly yanked out from under her. Her scowl settles into place and she gives Seviilia a look as the death knight sits. She doesn't really get it, but maybe this whole... pale skin, glowing eye thing is normal for them. Right? ]

Yeah, well, I think being obtuse is stupid.

[ Says the girl who has a hard time talking about her own feelings. ]

Vibrant? Am I really - can people really pick up on that? [ That's a bit creepy, but this whole mind-reading thing is new. She reflexively tries to clamp down on her 'broadcast', struggling to keep herself from beaming anything too intimate or unfortunate into peoples' heads. ]

...I'm Asuka. Asuka Langley Soryu.

[ She likes that Seviilia thinks she's special though. She enjoys being special. It's how she stays ahead of her own treacherous mind. ]

Why is my being "vibrant" so special to you? [ She wants answers. More of them. ]

Of course. We are all connected now -- it is part of what comes with the rescue, it seems.

[As far as she understood, they were all rescued from some sort of peril that seemed to take various different forms. When they woke, they were connected. It didn't trouble her as it troubled others. Nothing could be worse than being connected to the Lich King, being made a puppet for his whims --

Until he came to trust her as an individual, of course. Then suddenly, it didn't seem so bad.]

I am very old, Asuka. A very old warrior, from a long history of abuse at the hands of our masters. And as such, I value certain ways of thinking. Certain personality types...

[The history she speaks of isn't her's alone. In truth, the memory of her history is short in comparison to what it should be. But that would be a conversation for another day.]

Your anger -- that is familiar to me.

I don't regret it.

[ Asuka's sour expression seems to belie that idea, but she really doesn't. She didn't want to stay on that beach and she didn't want to die. She'd decided that she would rather have her sense of self and decided to live when she pulled herself out of the sea. This wasn't any different. If it did feel hideously intimate.

Seviilia gets a flash of that here and there: a blood-red sea, blasted wreckage, a hideous half-face, like some sort of horrific rising sun on the horizon. ]

So what? Everyone has anger.

[ Asuka knows that hers burns bright, though. It's a defense mechanism. She lashes out so that she can hurt others before they can hurt her. ]

And what do you want from me? [ There's a whiff of paranoia about her. Worry. She's been used before; told soothing lies by adults and then discarded when she wasn't needed or wanted anymore. Treated like a doll. ]

[She observes the flashes she gets in silence, in spite of what she eventually says.]

Whether or not you regret it is none of my business. There was hardly a proper alternative, after all.

[Seviilia crosses her legs, plate greaves scraping against one another. She will always regret what happened, but only because her army had been left behind, and not because she had needed to survive.]

All I ask from you is your company, should you wish to entertain mine. We share symbiosis, after all.

[She spreads her hands apart from one another briefly. There is a frankness to her words. She imagines that anger will turn to something else, eventually. And if not, then she will find other sources to feed her.

That part, she doesn't mention. Nobody ever reacted well when they found out that she was deriving pleasure and sustenance from their suffering.]

Unless there is something else you would wish from a corpse.

Just my company. Right.

[ Asuka sounds suspicious - her thoughts are suspicious, too. She's been burned one too many times by adults who told her to trust them or who were supposed to take care of her. She's not jumping at the chance to embrace another mentor figure. ]

I guess it won't hurt.

[ Her gaze is sharp. If it does become a problem, she'll find another way. But company? Sure. Yeah. She's still getting used to this. Her nose wrinkles in response and she pulls a face. ]

Like what? I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing besides settling in and waiting. Is that really what we do here?

For now.

[She can sympathize with that, at least. With the Legion attacking Azeroth, every day was an exercise in attack, defense, and planning for the next. Not so, on the Station.]

As I understand, our supposed enemy cannot locate us here, and we are afforded rest between missions to further our survival. Not the sort of war you may be accustomed to.

[She doesn't necessarily understand the images Asuka had shown her, but she knows that a blood-soaked beach doesn't happen by accident.]

That actually sounds stupidly familiar.

[ Asuka settles her elbows on the table and puts her chin in her hands so she can stare at Seviilia. This close she can see the bits of rot and almost feel the cool air. It's... a bit disconcerting. It's unpleasant. It reminds Asuka a bit too much of her death. Her memory flickers-

Rage, pain, so much pain, a constant refrain of "I'll kill you.," repeated over and over again in Asuka's voice until her outstretched arm splits right down the middle and it all ends in pain and darkness.

It's just a momentary flicker; a sensation that makes Asuka shudder. ]

When I was a pilot we sat around a lot and did a lot of tests. So I guess I'm used to it. Unfortunately.

[ She's rebuilding her wall of bravado, but it's weaker than it used to be before Tokyo-3. It's brittle and hollow and without support. ]

A pilot. Hopefully, your skills surpass that of the other 'pilots' that I have encountered.

[Really, she's just talking about Shepard. The truth was, that her driving was no different than Seviilia's control of a frostwyrm -- but it is different when you are not in control and also strapped in unfamiliar technology.]

I was the best! And I still am!

[ Or would be, if she had an Eva. Then again, she's not sure she'd want to pilot one. But it's hard to put aside the thing you based your self-esteem on for most of your life. ]

I'm not some jumped up wannabe.

Edited 2017-05-08 22:42 (UTC)

My pool of experience is shallow.

[She'll take a beast of burden over a machine any day.]

I suppose all pilots must start young, then.

Well, I know I did. Some people don't, but they have to get by on being someone's favorite.

[ Ikari. Ayanami. She's not bitter, though. She doesn't resent being replaced and discarded. Or at least that's what she tries to project. She finds that it hurts. That being thought of as less, that being the spare is what utimately pushed her over the edge into her last downward spiral. ]

Dunno what I'm gonna pilot here, though. I doubt you have any Eva units. [ And she is secretly glad of that. ]

And what is an..."Eva unit" exactly?

[ The entire phrase feels strange in her mouth, but she asks anyway. If the Station had taught her nothing else, it was that Azeroth's presence of magic avoided the need for other things -- and that what was seen as 'technology' functioned very differently.

In this, her curiosity is genuine.]

An Eva unit?

[ No one here knows them. Which is weird. They were big ticket items back home - the weapons that were going to save humanity. Although now she knows that was all a bunch of bullshit. ]

It was a war-machine. [ More than that.

Mama.

A fleeting image of a giant monstrosity, covered in armored plate, looking more like some sort of twisted giant than anything mechanical. Which isn't far wrong. ]

Forty meters tall, covered in armored plate, equipped with the most modern weaponry known to mankind - including an AT field-

[ Another memory. Asuka leers (well, it feels like she is; it's from her point of view) as something shoots and another 'Eva', this one bright white, staggers back with giant spikes blasted through its head. ]

And I was chosen to be a pilot. I was the Second Child.

[ A pause and her sense of vindication fades a little into bitterness. ]

Not that that means anything anymore.

[Seviilia stays silent -- her stare becomes a bit distant when she feels the image of the Eva unit press into her subconscious. She observes it as long as the image lingers -- its fascinating. Of course, she has seen constructs similar, but so very unlike it. A bit like the Legion's Fel Reavers, if she had to compare them.

She blinks back into her own body, ears twitching and then laying backward. Something about the memory felt strange, but she can't place it.]

I have seen nothing like it here.

[She contemplates it, scratching at her own nail in silence.]

But I am reasonably certain that Cathaway could likely find something similar, if you wanted.

[Its hard to imagine that Cathaway isn't capable of anything.]

Maybe.

[ She's not sure she wants to go back to that. But if she doesn't what else is she going to do here? How else is she meant to fight? She frowns and picks at a stray strand of hair. ]

I don't know.

[ She doesn't like being unsure. But this is probably one of the calmest conversations she's had since she arrived her. ]

Do you think I'd actually get a chance to use it?

Perhaps. Every world is different, after all. Whatever we may need to do may require the use of one. I am not the correct person to ask.

[Seviilia offers a small shrug in place of any actual helpful information.]

Or, you can pilot something else.

I could try. Probably wouldn't be the same.

[ She frowns. ]

But I could do it. Wouldn't take that much effort. Not like I have a whole lot of upper body strength, though...

That could be arranged as well, if you were interested.

[Her rotting ears lift this time. Her biology didn't quite function the same as a living body anymore, but that didn't mean that she didn't understand how it worked. She could assist.]

It is unlikely you will achieve the strength some others are capable of, but there is nothing to say that you could not be conditioned to hold your own. Perhaps you might even learn to use a sword.

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