![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
[hatch log] it reaches to the fence it wraps it rail by rail
CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :046
SUMMARY: New hatches . ..-and the promise of another.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
NEW HATCHES
YOU WAKE UP you are suddenly changed. 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. Right there in your own head there's something both familiar and strange and you know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye.
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. A matching dread. An easy comfort. 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. There's two of you and the closer you are to this stranger, the louder the sound in your head becomes. --Actually they're not quite strangers either, are they? Something is wound about and between the two of you. You know him and he knows you. He is 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 tangled garden, or they are a shadowed black wood, 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.
Maybe that's why the sensation of one of those links blooming into the shape of a thought in your head doesn't startle you:
AN ASSIGNMENT
THE VOICE UNFOLDING isn't really a voice at all. It's a series of shapes, an image of a path curving through the slate and white interior of the Station, of a warm stone and the steady ka-thud ka- thud
of something living. It's mottled light. The sensation of easy momentum, of walking at the edge of a field in summer in a place where the adjacent wood casts a long, cool shadow. It says:
( We have a task for anyone who has time to spare. )
Then Cathaway's mind folds up like a letter and slides back into the white noise murmur of the Station. However, anyone who goes looking to find her won't have a hard time. The Station seems to bend itself to make doing so quickly; familiar paths lead somewhere strange: Cathaway stands in a quiet chamber whose only feature is a case at the center. Inside the case is a large egg with a beetle shell iridescence - one of the many prizes stolen from the ABA!.
"It seems to do best when in the company of something alive. We'd like it if you and the others would spend some time with it." She withdraws her hand from the case and smiles cheerfully. "Think of it as an experiment."
((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new hosts as well as the catch-all for an optional mini-event. If your character wants to babysit an egg, please make a quick note of it over HERE for...reasons. Feel free to make your own logs and posts additional to this if you care to. You can find a more detailed overview of the host 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 :046
SUMMARY: New hatches . ..-and the promise of another.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
YOU WAKE UP you are suddenly changed. 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. Right there in your own head there's something both familiar and strange and you know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye.
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. A matching dread. An easy comfort. 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. There's two of you and the closer you are to this stranger, the louder the sound in your head becomes. --Actually they're not quite strangers either, are they? Something is wound about and between the two of you. You know him and he knows you. He is 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 tangled garden, or they are a shadowed black wood, 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.
Maybe that's why the sensation of one of those links blooming into the shape of a thought in your head doesn't startle you:
THE VOICE UNFOLDING isn't really a voice at all. It's a series of shapes, an image of a path curving through the slate and white interior of the Station, of a warm stone and the steady ka-thud ka- thud
of something living. It's mottled light. The sensation of easy momentum, of walking at the edge of a field in summer in a place where the adjacent wood casts a long, cool shadow. It says:
Then Cathaway's mind folds up like a letter and slides back into the white noise murmur of the Station. However, anyone who goes looking to find her won't have a hard time. The Station seems to bend itself to make doing so quickly; familiar paths lead somewhere strange: Cathaway stands in a quiet chamber whose only feature is a case at the center. Inside the case is a large egg with a beetle shell iridescence - one of the many prizes stolen from the ABA!.
"It seems to do best when in the company of something alive. We'd like it if you and the others would spend some time with it." She withdraws her hand from the case and smiles cheerfully. "Think of it as an experiment."
((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new hosts as well as the catch-all for an optional mini-event. If your character wants to babysit an egg, please make a quick note of it over HERE for...reasons. Feel free to make your own logs and posts additional to this if you care to. You can find a more detailed overview of the host 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
Hyperion can't say he disagrees - having only been here for less than a day, of course, that's too quick to judge. Less so when you accepted to leave everything you knew and every thread of the safety net you built because you didn't want to become mass of flakes of ash.
What? ]
Can I help you.
[ It's not entirely dismissive, if only because his tone is stale. He's done nothing wrong. (Is it the lack of doing anything at all that has her riled up?) ]
no subject
But though there is a ghost of a painful pulse, barely there for a second before being forcefully shoved away, she simply frowns at him. ]
Clearly not. [ Parker answers back, gives herself a second before pulling back up straight (every little movement is a strain, but she does not give in). ]
no subject
[ The echo has its own tone, suggesting that he has no more interest in furthering her conflict than she does in perpetuating her pain. There would have been more than enough people who could make it go away back home, or make her mind believe there wasn't any pain to begin with. Hyperion? The best he could do is give her his blood and treat her to an hour of mindless bliss.
He's sure she'd punch him first. ]
What's happening to you.
no subject
Or wasn't, considering that, after all, he wasn't dropping the subject. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. Trying not to move too much right now is the only reason why she is not turning heel and leaving. ]
Hangover.
[ Which is definitely a sarcastic answer. ]
no subject
[ His sarcasm is of a different kind. Not seething, never seething, because he's apparently emotionless.
He would know the thing, if it was hangover, though. js ]
Need help?
no subject
Nope.
[ She says, trying to straighten her back a little more. It's not easy, but she does it anyway. ]
Keep going.
no subject
He might come back to her because of that, though. ]
Good luck with that.