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Entry tags:
- *hatch log,
- aloy [horizon zero dawn],
- annabeth chase [riordan mythos],
- annie westwind [original],
- asuka langley sohryu [evangelion],
- bellamy blake [the 100],
- cathaway,
- commander shepard [mass effect],
- derek souza [the darkest powers],
- helen magnus [sanctuary],
- ilde vilmaine [original],
- john murphy [the 100],
- lexa [the 100],
- misato katsuragi [evangelion],
- noctis lucis caelum [ffxv],
- nyx ulric [ffxv],
- pidge gunderson (katie holt) [voltron],
- sam wilson [mcu],
- steve rogers [mcu],
- the prince
[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!))
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!
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:
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!))
no subject
Even kidnapped people need to eat, don't they?
[And if she's a broodmate, she won't be able to hide that pang of hunger so easily from Noctis. Already, he feels it eking his way.]
You're hungry. [He taps at the can of space soda with a fingernail.] I can answer some questions for you if you want to grab something to eat while you're here.
no subject
Can't you at least pretend you don't know what I'm feeling? It's weird.
[ but once she gets some requisite teenage sass out of the way, there's no denying the pull of someone offering her knowledge. her eyes flick from the space sorta-fridge back to the space soda in noctis's hand, a worrying thought starting to bloom. ]
Is there any food that didn't come from them?
no subject
I could, but would that actually make you feel any better? [It's not like he can stop feeling whatever she feels -- his mental barriers are still being built, still being practiced. He hasn't been here all that long, either.]
As for the food... not really. I'm guessing you don't trust it.
[That's a wise stance to take, to be suspicious. He was, too.
But eventually, hunger overrode any sense of caution.]
no subject
ugh. ]
Do you know the story of Persephone?
no subject
No.
[But his curiosity unfolds between them. He's eager to listen, if she'll tell.]
Is it relevant to what's happening now?
no subject
Long story short, the Lord of the Dead kidnapped her to the Underworld so she'd be his wife. Her mom, Demeter, worked hard to save her, but by the time they found her it was too late. She ate six pomegranate seeds down there, so for the rest of her life she has to live down there for six months out of the year. Eating Underworld food is like a curse.
[ so, yeah, color her suspicious of food offered by alien overlords ]
no subject
Is this a true story? Does this Lord of the Dead really just kidnap people to marry him? What an ass.
no subject
Yeah, it really happened. I've met him and you're right, he's a grade-A creep. I haven't met Persephone, but my boyfriend and a couple of my friends did her a favor one Christmas -- long story.
But my point is: how do we know this food isn't like Underworld food?
no subject
It causes a strange mental image to play in his head. The thunder god, Ramuh, descending from the thunderclouds to randomly swoop up some poor soul in his hand to marry. Noctis almost snorts.]
You'll have to tell me that story sometime. But where the food is concerned, I don't think there's an underworld out here in the space between universes. So you're probably safe there.
[You know. Probably.]
no subject
Probably, [ she grumbles. but her voice isn't the only thing rumbling, so she shrugs and moves to take a look in one of those space fridges. she's half-afraid it'll be nothing but freeze-dried food, and the packets don't really inspire a lot of optimism. she chooses one at random, shrugging.
(she can't help hoping it's something a little dignified. you know, if she does get trapped in space forever. the tale of the cursed chicken nuggets isn't exactly the stuff of myth.) ]
I'm Annabeth. We'll be getting to know each other, I guess.
[ as nestmates but also as brood, the connection strong; she can sense it, but doesn't have the word yet. ]
no subject
My name is Noctis. [He idly notes at the "meal" she's chosen for herself, before bringing his gaze back up to meet hers.] Yeah, we'll be getting to know each other. We're what they call... "broodmates" around here.
no subject
(when in doubt, it's usually the latter.) ]
Is that what you go by? Noctis? [ just...you know, just checking. ] Broodmates. That's why you feel...different. Isn't it?
no subject
...Yeah. Sometimes Noct. [You know, no big deal. Though it's usually only friends that call him by that nickname, though there's an immediately closeness with broodmates that he can't deny, and probably wouldn't be annoyed if they started calling him Noct as well.]
It's why we feel... uh, closer. Like, your voices and thoughts are much louder in my head compared to everyone else's.