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

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.

I know how to use a sword. [ Asuka amends that after a moment, nose wrinkled. ]

Sort of. The Eva basically had a sort of... mind link interface, so I've got muscle memory from using its weaponry all the time.

Ah. Fascinating.

[Not unlike her connection with undead constructs, with that of her soldiers. She nods with some approval.]

Well, the strength can be conditioned nonetheless.

Yeah. Might be worthwhile now - I mean, I swim. And I train. It's not like I just sit around all day - or I didn't.

[ Asuka feels like she's defending herself a little. She had to stay in good shape, right? ]

But - I dunno. I need to be able to do something, right? I can't be useless.

[ Because then she'll hate herself even more. ]

No. You cannot. If you fail, you will drag others down with you.

[That is said with some affirmation, not necessarily the idea that she thinks Asuka is already useless. This time, she smiles.]

If nothing else, there is little feeling sweeter than feeling bone crush under your knuckles.

[ Crushing bone, twisting flesh. There's a sensation exactly like it in Asuka's memory, called forward by the mention of the sensation. And she remembers the satisfaction that came with hurting those Eva units. The fierce, terrible joy that accompanied the way she swatted attack craft out of the sky like flies.

Something dark flickers in her gaze. ]

I don't think I've ever done that. Not exactly.

[ But she doesn't sound disgusted. ]

Edited 2017-05-09 04:18 (UTC)

[She sees it. There's some clear surprise that radiates from her as she sits up a little straighter, attention focused like that of a hound on it until it slips from her grasp. She'd been burying her hunger since arriving back on the Station, and it is suddenly brought to bare.

Seviilia grips the chair she's chosen a bit tighter than she means to, blinking perhaps a bit too rapidly to be normal. The sense of euphoria that follows after is brief, little more than a taste, not enough to satisfy -- unfiltered.

She clears her throat and forces herself to relax, offering a smile that might be slightly bittersweet.]

Not exactly.

[Its chuckled outward, said like she's caught Asuka in a lie. She offers the younger girl her hand -- fingertips black with rot, held together by her glowing blue rune circuit.]

If that is the case, then I can show you.

[ Asuka's not good at this mental exchange thing. She has no real filter, no real way to control what flows in and out yet. So the sense of euphoria that rolls out of Seviilia amplifies the sense of satisfaction that came with her memories and she feels... good.

A part of her knows that she shouldn't want what Seviilia is offering, but another part of her doesn't care. She stopped caring when the JSSDF tried to kill her and she smashed them out of the sky and tore their tanks and ships into scrap metal. Her throat works in a swallow. She shouldn't trust this, but the lure of some sort of affection, any kind of affection, the promise of having existence beyond herself, is tempting.

She reaches out with a pause of hesitation and brushes her fingers against Seviilia's hand. ]

It's cold-

[ But she takes it all the same. ]

[Seviilia's grip is iron, and she takes Asuka's hand mercilessly. If this little girl wants to play in the big leagues, then she says let her.

There is no filter on this memory, as they occupy one mind together -- Seviilia's mind, stalking the blizzard winds of Northrend. A terrified band of clergymen, huddled together with their maces and shields, shouting over one another to try and find their way home. There's a distinct crunch and feral growl that causes them to go silent, raising their weapons in preparation. What falls on them is a small undead horde, which they separate combat easily.

What they aren't expecting is the monster that falls upon them next. One by one, Seviilia descends upon them as their hubris pulls them away from their squadmates. One, she decapitates without fanfare, runeaxe cleaving into the ice beneath them until it stains red. The one who comes to assist him doesn't see her fast enough, and her claws sink themselves directly into his throat. He chokes on his own boiling blood, screaming and struggling until there is nothing left of him.

And she is hungry. Each slaughter lessens it, replaces it with a strange euphoria indescribable by any other act or emotion. The next soldier has their weapon arm torn from them, crushed uselessly, neck snapped in one swift motion. The last one had fled -- and she hunts him like a creature possessed, her eyesight is crystal clear in the sheet of hail that falls around her. And the moment she spots him, he is pulled by one whip-snap of shadow magic into her waiting claws. She breaks his ribs with one fist, and he dies instantly.

That is when she releases Asuka's hand. Seviilia's hunger sits heavy in her stomach, unchanged by the viscera she's shared with her new Nestmate. But the euphoria, that stays -- a distant memory, a sort of yearning she can't quench.]

But not as cold as it could be.

[ This feels and looks so horrifically familiar as it plays out in her mind's eye. She can place her Eva in Seviilia's place, see the mass production units where the clergy are. She can see the red, red blood stain the snow and remember how it felt to crush the jaw of an MP unit between her hands and it all starts to blend and mix and swirl together as she trembles in Seviilia's grip. It's a haunting, breathtaking display of skill and she recognizes something of what she's done in it.

And with it is that strange euphoria, settling over her like a haze, amplifying the joy of her own memory. She shouldn't feel like this. Not when it's people - but she slaughtered people. She crushed a warship, broke its back and used it to smash a tank company. She annihilated attack craft. She's already killed and she's done it almost as hands on as Seviilia has when it comes to being up close and personal.

Her fingers curl against Seviilia's and her good eye is wide, pupil dilated as she tries to absorb the information that's coursing through her. She looks jittery when Seviilia finally releases her and Asuka - Asuka can back away now. She could call her a freak, do a dozen different things, but Seviilia is sharing this with her. Asuka is worth enough for this to be shared. And what does she care for people she's never met? She swallows, no answer springing to her throat. Not for a few moments more. ]

What was that? Did - what was that feeling?

[ Now her mind is a buzzing cacophony of her last fight and the way she tore them apart. The painful, agonizing conclusion is matched in in bits and pieces. It's all a mess. But one memory is sharp and clear and it's a hand outstretched, blood and pain and the raw determination to hurt and kill, the smell of copper, vision blacked out in the eye that Asuka has covered out and one repeated refrain:

I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you.

Asuka shudders and her shoulders hunch as her mind circles back to that point. ]

...mine didn't end as well. [ Her voice is a hoarse whisper. It's a shameful admission of weakness and she worries that Seviilia will see that, will find that piece of her memory and tear it out of her and use it to push her back into the dirt. ]

Edited 2017-05-09 05:02 (UTC)

A mistake my jailers made many years ago.

[Seviilia pauses half way between picking her teeth to watch Asuka's reaction unwind in front of her. For a brief moment, it seems like she might ride out her grief -- but her grief and pain feeds her, abates some of that hunger that she had rekindled by sharing her memory, returns the euphoria that coaxes a false sigh out of her nose.

Asuka, like this, was more valuable to her than she would likely ever know. But for all the monster she is, she also knows how to repay a favor. And so, her hand returns to the other woman's shoulder, spreading some of that foreign warmth through cold fingertips.]

The end does not matter here.

[Whatever end they were meant to meet on their worlds has merely served as a springboard to their life now -- afterlife? Whatever it might have been.]

You have only just begun.

[Her question about the feeling remains unanswered. It would no doubt be a tough pill to swallow. After all, she was used in a way, even if the end result was positive.]

Edited 2017-05-09 05:17 (UTC)

[ Warmth. It makes no sense, Seviilia was cold. She frowns, brow knitting and she peers up at the elf with a sense of confusion. A part of her is glad, a part of her resentful. Yet another part wants to forget about all of it. ]

Begun what?

[ She needs to know that. She knows that she's supposed to fight their war now. She knows she has a no purpose. That she's needed her for some reason. The acceptance that Seviilia seems to extend to her is so easy and tempting. ]

You didn't tell me what any of that was. What are you? Aside from some... walking corpse?

[ Seviilia definitely mentioned corpse earlier. ]

[She has her answer already, and her silence is a mere confirmation. But the second question, she can answer -- at least partially.]

I am an engine of war. Returned to life as an undead monstrosity by the very same master that sundered my homeland, I was remade to fight for him. Until I broke free of his sway over me.

[She stands, pulls her hand from Asuka. More or less, that is the story. The story of every Death Knight. But the rest--]

Perhaps I will provide more details after you have had a chance to adjust here.

[ That sounds... not familiar. But it certainly sounds like something that may have happened. Asuka tracks her as she stands, not yet willing to clamber to her own feet. ]

...fine.

[ Almost surly, but an agreement all the same. An acknowledgement. ]

I don't know why I'd need to adjust even more. What's so difficult about it?

[ Bravado. ]

You will discover all the struggles that come with your new abilities. And with the connection we share.

[Seviilia has been enough of a mentor for one day. Asuka would learn -- or she was screw up and seek her out for answers later. But for now--]

Until then -- make friends.

[That last bit is nothing but sarcasm. She wouldn't have much of a choice to get along with everyone -- even those she didn't care for.]

It has been a pleasure to meet you, Asuka.

Make friends. Right.

[ Asuka doesn't sound that enthused by the idea. But she'll try. Sort of. ]

Uh, nice to meet you, too...?

[ That was an interesting conversation... ]

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[hatch log] everything happens so much

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cw: gore

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