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!))






servitor: (no mincing)

[personal profile] servitor 2017-05-13 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Just tell me when to stop if it gets too much.

[He gingerly slips an arm around her waist, arranges her own arm onto his back so he can lead her as best as he can. Watch the knife, even though it's securely holstered and completely covered.]

I don't exactly know where to go but I might have a feeling. I think you might have it too.

[He doesn't know what it is yet, but he knows they're going to be stuck with each other for a long while.]

You got a name?
ergane: feel free to use, just credit me (| discussions about architecture)

[personal profile] ergane 2017-05-14 03:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Not going to be a problem.

[ she assures him, moving gingerly herself. trying to mind her sore ankle, and trying to lean so nyx can support some of her weight. nothing about this comes easily to her -- accepting help, especially from a stranger, especially from a strange mortal. ]

How about we try keeping the following-our-feelings thing to a minimum? What we need is logic. A plan.

[ says the child of a wisdom goddess. feelings are more piper's thing. ]

Annabeth. Annabeth Chase.
servitor: (no mincing)

[personal profile] servitor 2017-05-14 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[A strange mortal.

The struggle is one he can understand, but that point? His eyes search the floor, but now he can't say anything. They're shared in a mind, but not in a mindset.

And what she means, he can't really puzzle out.]


You're telling me you've never had a gut feeling?

[Nyx hears her, even agrees.

Good thing it's a suggestion.]


My heart's kept me alive this whole time, and my heart's what I'll follow. And my heart says you need a medic, or at least a bed.
ergane: feel free to use, just credit me (| frown)

[personal profile] ergane 2017-05-17 04:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[ she feels that burst of confusion, hesitation; and before she can parse through that, she hears his answer. it reminds her so much of piper that she abruptly feels intensely homesick for her friends. ]

Look. I have a war to get back to. I know you understand that. All of this? Is already a pretty big detour. I don't have time for another.
servitor: (no mincing)

[personal profile] servitor 2017-05-18 03:26 am (UTC)(link)
[He clicks his tongue. She's young, she hasn't really seen what he's seen, and surely he hasn't seen what she's seen.

But...]


I've been in the same war for twelve years of my life, and before I was in it, I was watching it and watching my home get slowly destroyed. You're not going to be useful with a sprained ankle. The war will be there. You won't. Besides, there's no easy way out so far. Might as well get healed up and be ready when you get back.

[A beat.]

I don't need your excuses, Annabeth, you need to be healed if you want to keep fighting. None of us have time but here we are.

[He'd made the time and the effort to go back for Libertus, in a wild burst of warps, flames, and idiotic life choices. No excuses. He understands, he really does, but it'll slow her down for the future, possibly permanently.]
ergane: feel free to use, just credit me (| sympathetically)

[personal profile] ergane 2017-05-23 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the undercurrent of understanding takes a lot of the sting out of his answer; and if she's being honest, she'd have to admit that the sting isn't his fault. ]

Anyone ever tell you you're pretty pushy?

[ but there's no heat in the way she says it, and her frustration palpably cools.

twelve years. the titan war has dominated her life, but it lasted for a third of that time. she's not sure she can even imagine it. ]


What happened to it? Your home.
servitor: (long live)

[personal profile] servitor 2017-05-27 01:29 am (UTC)(link)
[He can't hold back the huffy laugh and the shake of his head.]

I've been told I'm a lot of things, and pushy's one of them.

[At the question, he becomes a little more somber. Trees burning, rivers heavy with debris and corpses, MTs matching into the city and the countryside and anywhere in-between, in perfect, robotic formation.

Help me!

Nyx doesn't wince, but his stability shakes. Still haunted by his sister, after all these years.]


It got destroyed in the attacks by Niflheim. They were greedy and they wanted everything. They tried to sack Galahd, my home, but it didn't work for a while. We'd held off the Nifs and refused to surrender. So they finally got fed up and bombed the country.

[Now he smirks, just slightly.]

I guess we're pretty pushy as a whole.