onemind: (Default)
THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] station722017-05-31 07:25 am

[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!))






premorse: (059)

hyperion | open

[personal profile] premorse 2017-05-31 10:25 pm (UTC)(link)
the ash

[ As it turns out, remembering the end of the world isn't the worst part of waking up.

The headache splits his head before the stringing sound is dulled out, but the dullness still presses in his head. All those links connected to him. Things he can't understand because he's barely been awake to even try. Chances are he won't be able to do that long after he has.

There's enough strength in him to know - to know that this is preferable to what he left behind. He wouldn't have been corporeal, just - ash. Fine ash, so fine that it seemed like another world had ripped through and replaced Earth. All that was replaced was the certainty of how the world would keep spinning and that society would follow. Until the invaders came and ash was all that was left.

He remembers seeing it crawling toward him, right before he said yes. And now he's here. ]


small comforts

[ A small comfort is finding that he has all his contents in his pockets: cigarettes, lighter, tissue paper, and two small blades in a matchbox. Even the small containers with his blood are intact. If nothing else, he'll be able to use them for trade. This isn't a place for money, he can tell that much, and secrets are probably not going to be valuable anymore. That's what worries him the most, that he can't keep secrets.

In any case. He can sacrifice at least one cigarette for his own indulgence. ]
moremischievous: (irritation; you're not serious)

sup hatch bro

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-01 01:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ When Hikaru finally rises and clambers down the ladder, it's with white clothing in hand and a scowl on his face. His designer clothes are dirty and marked with sweat. He's confused, he's irritated, there's something missing — of course there's something missing, he knows what's missing, so why does it feel like there's something else missing? — and he has no idea why this guy feels familiar. ]

( Who are you supposed to be? )

[ Simultaneously: ]

Who are you supposed to be?

[ Seems the question across the link was more instinctive than anything. A bad case of a loud mind. At least he says what he's thinking? ]
moremischievous: (irritation; just stop talking)

hikaru hitachiin | SO OPEN COME AT ME

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-01 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ He's alone. He's not alone. There's something missing. There's so much new. It's a tangled and confusing mess that Hikaru can't understand. He squeezes his eyes shut and stays still, one hand clutching the tube he detached from his own neck, and he waits for things to start making sense.

[ They don't. ]


the assignment, aka never let him egg-sit

[ It turns out that keeping an egg company is seriously boring.

[ Hikaru is laying on his back with the egg on his chest, knees bent, bare feet flat on the floor. He's clad in clean white clothes that are seriously not his style, and he's scowling at the ceiling like it's personally offended him. ]


What kind of an experiment is this?

[ He lifts the egg above his head, eyeing it critically. ]

Seriously. What's the point?

[ With absolutely zero regard for the consequences, Hikaru starts idly tossing the egg up in the air and catching it. Why? Because this is boring. What else is he supposed to do with it? ]

the most important question

[ The noises in his head are annoying, unwanted, and more than a little disturbing. Still … this question is important. He prods at them like a kid with a stick, or a cat with a ball of yarn. They all feel different, and it's weird. At random, he focuses on one in particular: ]

( HEY. )

[ While his own mental link isn't unpleasant — roses, crystal blue water, fine dining, orchestral music — this isn't some kind of gentle mental knock. This is someone BANGING ON THE DOOR to ask: ]

( Where do I get more clothes? )

wildcard

[ pick a place! shoot me a pm or hit me up at [plurk.com profile] nostalgiabomb if you wanna plot it out first :) ]
shiro2hero: (lance for fuck's sake can u not)

EGG

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-06-01 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
[He's gotten very good with his mental shielding since his arrival. Enough to where he's blotted out most of his thoughts, save for the imagery of the shielding itself. Stars and slowly turning nebulae.]

[So there's not much to actually announce his presence, besides that. Except, you know, for the metal hand reaching out to grab said egg as it's tossed upward. Like someone would grab a football.]


An egg-speriment.

[He says this with a completely straight face. Looking at the new arrival sprawled on the ground. In contrast with Hikaru's white, he's gone with all black, as usual. Loose-fit workout wear. After a moment, he goes on.]

But seriously, don't throw it.
moremischievous: (confusion; are you sure about that?)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-01 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ Hikaru, on the other hand, has all of nothing in the way of mental shielding. Blame it on him being a brand new host. So when he looks up the metal-armed man, it's painfully clear that his reaction is genuine: first is the unspoken "seriously," then he blinks, cants his head to the side, raaaaaaaises an eyebrow, and asks: ]

What's up with your hair?

[ ... Yes, that is indeed the most Pressing Question in this situation. ]
Edited 2017-06-01 05:54 (UTC)
shiro2hero: (90% of my gray hairs are named lance)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-06-01 06:04 am (UTC)(link)
[For a second, he contemplates dropping the egg back down. But, then again, after all they went through to get the thing... no. That would be wrong. On a lot of levels.]

Yes, seriously.

And nothing. It's fine.

[This better not be another Damon.]
moremischievous: (✚ kaoru; what are you even)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-01 06:07 am (UTC)(link)
You might wanna rethink your definition of "fine." [ He points. ] That looks like a skunk.

[ He's not even trying to be rude. These are Facts. ]
shiro2hero: (ever get the same song stuck in your hea)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-06-01 06:11 am (UTC)(link)
Skunks aren't grey.

[He can't believe this is a conversation he's having right now. Seriously.]

Did you just get here?
moremischievous: (confusion; say what now?)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-01 06:31 am (UTC)(link)
Doesn't matter. It looks like a skunk.

[ He does stop pointing, though, and lets his hand fall onto his chest. ]

Yeah, pretty much. [ Just got here, and things are missing and empty and wrong. ] Some lady wanted me to spend time with that thing.

[ He eyes the egg again. ]

So why can't I throw it? Is it important or something?
shiro2hero: (tmw your dad senses are tingling)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-06-01 06:34 am (UTC)(link)
Your opinion is noted.

[And moving right along. Keeping himself in behind his own shields, and trying... not to feel what this kid is projecting. It hits too close to a barely healed nerve.]

"Some Lady". Was her name Cathaway?

[Or someone else. It made more sense to be the Station's host, though. Since she'd been the one to take care of all the things they'd taken from the waypoint.]

Important enough for almost everyone to risk their lives for.
moremischievous: (silly; stalk stalk stalk)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-01 06:45 am (UTC)(link)
How should I know? She showed up in my head like the rest of you.

[ Which, judging by the way he scowls (and the convoluted but largely N O P E mess of emotions), he's none too happy about that. But Shiro's answer piques his curiosity. He hauls himself to his feet so he can examine the egg more closely. ]

What's in it?
shiro2hero: (which selfie filter do i use)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-06-01 06:47 am (UTC)(link)
You didn't ask? Or introduce yourself?

[Sure, everyone was stuck in each others' heads here, but that didn't mean you just... stopped talking. At least, he hadn't stopped.]

[He shrugs, at the question.]


No idea. Valuable enough to make it a prize for a huge tournament, though.
moremischievous: (✚ kaoru; eeeeeh?)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-01 07:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ For a moment, Hikaru is silent, gold eyes on the egg. Then he gives Shiro the most incredulous look he can muster. ]

Hang on a minute. Number one, you haven't introduced yourself. [ Yeah. WHAT NOW. Skunk-head. ] And number two: what kind of idiots risk their lives for something when they don't even know what it is?
premorse: (008)

brooding like hell, bro

[personal profile] premorse 2017-06-01 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's a bit too loud, and the echo between mind and ears feeds on its own self like feedback. His mind is still too fresh, too vulnerable. All it takes is six words to give him a headache.

The feelings are mutual. The boy feels familiar, too close, and it's puzzling him. Above all, it's bothering him. This is nothing but the beginning of a downward spiral, and there's nothing to grab onto. ]


You already know.

[ Hyperion, the name that involuntarily rises in his thoughts. They're in the same brood, that must be obvious. There's not much else, though. ]

Where did you come from.
shiro2hero: (if you need me i'll be on the floor)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-06-02 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
[There's a beat, as he lifts an eyebrow, and then extends his left hand. Totally because the metal one, the right one, is holding the egg. And not because it's metal and alien.]

Shiro. You? [And then, deadpan:] People who want their friends and family back home to stay safe.
sizeofyourbaggage: (almost smirk)

THE MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION

[personal profile] sizeofyourbaggage 2017-06-02 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ Wow thanks for that new guy, that's a hell of a knock. Even with Sam's shields as good as they are - and he's got them up full strength, with the couple of unshielded new Hosts running around - he can pick up that.

Sam's shields resemble clouds, shifting and rolling, but they thin enough for his mental presence to grow a little stronger as he focuses on their mental link. The faintest hint of amusement trickles through, but not much else. ]


( What, not digging the white pajama look? Depending on what size you are, some people might have spares they picked up last time they were planet-side - or you never know what you'll find digging around the Station. )
Edited 2017-06-02 02:39 (UTC)
moremischievous: (neutral; that's a little odd)

know the feeling bro

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-02 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ Hikaru opens his mouth to object, but ... he does know. It feels like he's always known. Hyperion. ]

This is way too weird.

[ He shifts his weight, annoyed, uncomfortable, and confused. He's not denying what's happening. After being rescued from that ... that grey, faceless, oozing thing, he's willing to be open-minded. He just doesn't understand it.

[ After a pause, he gestures toward the hole wherein he woke. ]


Right up there. I woke up a few minutes ago.

[ Before that? The thoughts are easy enough to grasp. Cherry blossoms, expensive tea, a prestigious high school. Japan. Ouran. ]
Edited 2017-06-02 03:14 (UTC)
moremischievous: (✚ kaoru; never ever leave me)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-02 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
[ Hikaru blinks, then averts his eyes. Family and friends, huh? He's been avoiding those feelings, kicking at them with each step as they nip and tear at his heels. When they hit, it's not a flood, and it's not unexpected. It's sinking. It's the ocean greeting him, and he's been kicking and kicking to stay afloat, and as soon as his muscles tire it's enveloping him, pulling him down, and he can't breathe, he can't think, he's alone.

[ He's alone. It doesn't matter that there are little lights, pricks of consciousness against his own, and one shines brighter than the others and is named Hyperion, he's alone.

[ Jagged edges cut and tear with every step, every move, every thought. He's cold and he's terrified and all he wants to do is reach out and be met with the familiar. The family. The self. Orange and blue, two vines intertwined, separate but together, but now there's no together. He's missing. He's missing. No hand holding his. No gold to greet his own.

[ He's alone.

[ Hikaru huffs out a sigh. Pulls himself up. Kicks and kicks and kicks until he hits the surface. Keeps swimming. ]


You could've said that from the start. [ No true annoyance; the tone lies. Though Shiro's hand isn't the one he wants, he takes it with his own. ] I'm Hikaru. Hikaru Hitachiin.
Edited 2017-06-02 03:41 (UTC)
moremischievous: (✚ kaoru; bro you're so grumpy)

CRITICALLY IMPORTANT

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-02 05:09 am (UTC)(link)
( Is that even a question? These things are super plain. I wouldn't have even touched them if my clothes weren't so dirty. ... Speaking of, where's the laundry around here? I need to get them cleaned. )

[ "Get them cleaned," not clean them himself. It's not an intentional differentiation; it's the only course of action. The thought that he might be doing his own laundry doesn't even cross his mind. It's a concept more foreign than ... well, this. ]

( Wait, hold on. "Planet-side"? What are you talking about? )
Edited 2017-06-02 05:15 (UTC)
shiro2hero: (and that means)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-06-02 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
[As wrapped up in his own shields as he is, he can only get the bare sense of that feeling. But it's enough. It's enough to remember the sense of loss only barely held away, like a wound barely closed. The memory of links being sundered, of pulling, tearing. The feel of loss threatening to overwhelm.]

[It's like losing a limb...]

[His right hand shudders, twitching reflexively and shaking where it still grips the egg. It rattles against the shell, fingers clanking. Because it hurts. And it's all he can do to keep from dropping the thing.]


Can you -- can you take it back? Please.

[He shifts it to his other hand, temporarily, letting the metal limb drop back to his side, cramming it into a pocket and trying desperately to breathe through the phantom ache. Through the feeling of absence, the remembered loss. The hands groping through the darkness. So many hands everywhere and -- and all he wanted was understanding all he wanted was to help to offer it to reach out and be understood to reach out and assist to make things better and it's gone it's cut off.]

[Everything smothered down under his mental wall of stars. As he attempts an explanation, the words a little ragged.]


Mechanics. Acting up.

[If Hikaru takes the egg, he'll clamp his free hand to where metal joins flesh of his bicep. Like squeezing is going to stop him from thinking.]
redheadcarrier: (Are you out of your mind?)

The most important question

[personal profile] redheadcarrier 2017-06-02 04:38 pm (UTC)(link)
( Don't yell in my brain, idiot. )

[ In contrast, Asuka's brain is in shades of red and includes dashes of violence and shock and muted pain. There's nothing really elegant about it. ]

( I just got here, anyway, so how the Hell should I know? )

[ This talking with her brain thing is still so weird. ]
Edited 2017-06-02 16:39 (UTC)
premorse: (061)

[personal profile] premorse 2017-06-03 06:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Weird, yes, and the beginning of what Hyperion fears will become a complicated relationship: Hikaru just goes ahead and speaks his mind, so it's safe to guess he always does, but Hyperion doesn't take any chances on guessing. ]

Mm.

[ Incredibly vocal, this one (#not). He'll be sure to make up for it with all the processes meant to defend his mind unsuccessfully. Psychics were any person's worst nightmare, gifted or not, and Hyperion's just walked into a ship filled with them, him included. There's barely any comfort to take from that, but it's an opportunity to fight back.

(Japan. Prestigious high school, tea, cherry blossoms. A festival? He doesn't look Japanese. Wrong eye color, wrong hair color, provided it's natural.

It's a long way from the dark alleys Hyperion's used to. Living in the night, walking among people who consume his illegally tampered blood as one of the rarest drugs in existence.) ]


How did it happen.

[ The end of the world. ]
sizeofyourbaggage: (smirk)

[personal profile] sizeofyourbaggage 2017-06-04 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
( Hey, you never know what weird taste people have. You can find all that in the life support area. )

[ Good luck, kid, he's gonna be in for a rude awakening. ]

( This is a space station, not much on here except what people have brought back from the planet's they visit. You just woke up, yeah? Hang tight, I'll come find you, give you what passes as the grand tour. )
futurewitness: my father is not responding to the 5 texts i sent him that all read: "dad dad dad dad dad dddaadd dddddaaaaaaaaad dad". ([uhhh] for some reason)

the most important question

[personal profile] futurewitness 2017-06-04 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
[ Lucina's mind, on the other hand, is less pleasant. A ruined world, battles, death. Lots of regrets. Crushing responsibility. You know, just another day in the medieval zombie apocalypse. ]

( Is there something wrong with the ones you have? )
erbier: (pic#10388008)

Ilde Option

[personal profile] erbier 2017-06-04 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ The girl in white is silent in her approach, moving as easily as a ghost when she does not wish to be noticed. It can be a relief, at times, to float past the other hosts and not suffer their needs or attentions when she is not in the mood to give it. She likes such control, such choice, it puts her at ease and makes her more charitable.

She had not come looking for anyone specifically, but she knows that the symbiote has a way of looping them all towards one another. As independent as their movements might appear, they were all part of a greater pattern, shapes upon shapes, paths overlapping into a harmony that was their Nest. She observes this new host silently for a long moment before she makes herself known. ]


Hello.

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