onemind: (Default)
THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] station722017-05-07 07:56 am

[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!))






huntsmachines: (Little hunter)

[personal profile] huntsmachines 2017-05-10 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's so different than anything I've... It's like a computer or a machine but with people?" Aloy seems unsure with her comparison. Everything here is just different enough that she doesn't know what to expect.

"I want it to be less overwhelming but I don't think I can make that happen without just getting used to it." Aloy shifts a little, her eyes flicking over to Adra again. There's something of a smile, her natural curiosity kicking on as she looks at him.

"Why do your eyes do that?"
hymnals: another one of your plays (what if i say i'm not just)

[personal profile] hymnals 2017-05-10 11:26 pm (UTC)(link)
The word 'computer' doesn't track, but he understands 'machine' well enough, and from there, the basic sense of what she's getting at. The Titans had left complex automatons behind, as well as tremendous networks that ran just as much on technology as magic. To him, the Nest is more like what he observed of a particular insect race's hivemind, only with a little bit more free will involved.

"I'm still pretty green myself," he admits. He's absolutely not used to the regular assault of external emotions, nor to the intrusion of thoughts not his own. "I got dropped in while the rest of them were in the middle of a mission--it's a bit easier to acclimate now that things are relatively quiet."

His ears prick forward at the question. He's not the kind to lie or sidestep the truth, even if he could--which he's pretty sure he can't, thanks to the Nest. He touches his cheek, frowning slightly. "The short answer is magic."

The long answer is fel corruption.
huntsmachines: (Default)

[personal profile] huntsmachines 2017-05-11 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
"This is relatively quiet? I'd hate to hear it noisy, then..." Aloy flinches against a wandering thought that pushes its way into her mind and then tries to take a breath and focus herself on what's happening immediately in front of her. Focus on the pretty boy, Aloy. A thought for herself. She's still not used to others hearing them and the fact that she may as well have yelled the words.

"Magic? I've run into magic before. It all turned out to be technology, though..." Magic has lost some of its charm for Aloy with what she's discovered. But who is she to say whether it's real or not?

"It's fascinating. Very... very pretty, honestly." Even with the strange color of the fel-fire green, the glow charms her.
hymnals: and you stand in line (and you take your time)

[personal profile] hymnals 2017-05-12 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
"It was wild, down at the Waypoint," he says. "Barbarous. Some kind of violent spectacle of a competition."

He shakes his head, revulsion clear in his tone at the (fortunately brief) memory. "We're between missions, it seems, so you at least have a chance to work on your focus."

He's not quite sure what to do with the compliment. It doesn't seem to register straight away, and when it does, the tips of his ears turn a little pink. He shakes his head. "As for my eyes ... they were blue, once. A color I much prefer."

A pause. "But that's kind of you."
huntsmachines: (smirk)

[personal profile] huntsmachines 2017-05-12 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
Violent competition. Aloy shudders along with the elf. It makes her think of the Red Raids and the Sun Ring where she had been supposed to die, trampled to death by machines. When he mentions that she has a chance to work on her focus, she can't help a faint giggle.

"This..." She taps the small trianglur device near her right ear, "is also called a focus. I can work on both." Aloy smiles, ducks her head when she sees that she's made him blush.

"I like, blue, too. But still, I've never met anyone with glowing eyes before. Except machines." She pauses, feeling suddenly awkward as she stumbles over her words.

"Honestly, you're the prettiest man I've met." Why did you say that, Aloy? Mentally, she kicks herself. Stop blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.
hymnals: you are the light (you hold the power)

[personal profile] hymnals 2017-05-18 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Adra doesn't quite know what to do with the compliment. He coughs, laughing nervously, and the tips of his ears flush scarlet.

"Ah, well," he says, and then trails off for a second, as though he actually has a follow-up comment--which he does not. Instead, he less than ably deflects, nodding at the device she just pointed out. "Er, that is -- tell me about -- your focus."
huntsmachines: (smirk)

[personal profile] huntsmachines 2017-05-20 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh! The focus..." Aloy suppresses a laugh. The way his overly-long ears turn is kind of adorable.

"It's a technological device from the time of the Old Ones. It interact with networks and other devices in the world to show me information and also plays recordings and that sort of thing."
hymnals: mirroring your stare (i'm the face that you have to face)

[personal profile] hymnals 2017-05-27 07:50 pm (UTC)(link)
He gets the basic framework of what she's saying, even though it doesn't make complete sense to him.

"Hmm," he says. "The Titans had similar technology. Items with recorded histories and so forth. We're not quite caught up to them on that score, though."

The draenei have devices that project holograms, along with other things considered wondrous to the general Azerothian population, but their technology is not widespread. Nor is it available to his people--not willingly on their part, anyway.