[MISSION: HYRYPIA] the moon drops one or two feathers into the field

[isorropia]

CHARACTERS: Everyone
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :055
SUMMARY: Two veteran hosts arrive on the Station and a mandatory meeting is called. It's time to prepare for a new mission.
WARNINGS: Just chill dudes having a chill time. (Will add warnings as necessary)


I. THE SHIP.
((closed to one thread with a maximum of two player characters; first come, first serve; please don't nab this if you want to play an AFTERMATH prompt and vice versa))

[Early in the day, one of the hangar's platforms rotates upward into place. On it sits a long, bird beak shaped ship. For a moment it has all the appearance of being held together with little more than hope and a prayer. Its nose panels are scorched from the punching in and out of atmosphere and its wings have a rugged, rudimentary sweep to them. Then the illusion melts away and the ship becomes fundamentally concrete, though no less strange as it twists into a shape more closely resembling some complex origami. From it comes two hosts, both in elaborately layered stiff edged garments that cloak them from neck to knee.]

Double time, darling.

[The pale alien flashes a broad grin at her comrade as she vaults from the cockpit to the hangar floor. Her partner, hood thrown back and his scarves unwound to reveal short, tawny fur and two sets of small horns, tosses two bags down after her then follows her down.

The ship seals itself after them like a fan folding closed.]

II. MENTAL LINK.

[There is a strange, unfamiliar voice in your mind. It comes without a greeting and without the polite request for attention, but rather like a voice over an intercom, curt and low:]

( Hosts will report to the briefing room in- ) [the measurement of time that filters into your mind is not quite numbers, untethered by the standards of one people, but the meaning of it is clear- approximately 15 minutes] ( You have received the mission info on your personal databank. Proceed to the location upon review. )

[There is no invitation to continued conversation, but there is the impression of a location, one which you are unfamiliar with. The space it occupies pressed into your mind like a seal into hot wax. You can find it. You know it.]

III. BRIEFING.
((thread jacking encouraged for this - speedier back and forths seem like the funnest way to accomplish a group meeting; tag order will be treated cavalierly at best in any group threads!))

[Not far from the hangar deck, the corridors curve and then abruptly dead end at a circular room with a series of tiered benches seemingly carved from the Station's structure. Is this where you meant to be? Well, the voice had seemed like it wasn’t optional.

At the center of the small briefing room sit two Hosts. The first, a tall narrow alien with long pointed ears and solid green eyes sits straight with military precision, facing forward and not moving except to breath. The second, a pale alien with fringe touched by gold and dark lip lacquer is sitting in a spindly chair and aggressively typing on her tablet. She's shed her elaborate outerwear for one of the Station's bodysuits. She doesn't look up for a long time.

Eventually once everyone is seated, Rhan folds her databank up into a cube, sets it on the pedestal beside her and strokes along its side to trigger a projection of glittering gossamer images into the dim room's center.]

Let's get down to business, shall we? Hopefully you've all done your homework, [She arches an eyebrow, flashing a quick grin] --so the nuts and bolts won't be shocking. But Siva'co and I wanted to go over a few particulars before we take you all on this charming little adventure. Namely this one:

[She taps the side of the cube with her finger with a click of her long fingernail. The briefing report sent to the hosts earlier scrolls rapidly to the line '--one of these major diplomatic factions is believed to have been infiltrated by 'Enemy' agents.'.]

Now we've worked rather hard for the last year in this universe and we both would be very unhappy for all that effort to go down the drain just because someone thinks they'd like to be a hero. Isn't that right, Siva'co? I don't know how much contact you've had with our good friends out there, but let's be clear about this: if the Enemy becomes aware of our presence on this planet, this mission will be aborted. They'll get whatever they want out of this universe and, most importantly, some of us will die while running with our tails between our legs.

[Rhan tips her head to her partner.]

How do you feel about getting killed by someone with ideals, Siva'co?

[There is a long pause before he answers- and it is difficult to read his face exactly, but he seems somewhat exasperated.] Whatever the source of the failure, to die for reason other than the success of the mission is not acceptable. All must fulfill their roles with focus and dedication in order to see victory. Foolishness will not be tolerated.

[Rhan looks back to the assembled Hosts, cheerful smile unflagging.]

Questions?

IV. AFTERMATH.
((each prompt limited to one thread, first come first serve; please don't pull one of these if you nabbed THE SHIP prompt and vice versa.))

SIVA'CO.
[Regardless of the fact that the meeting is complete, Siva’co does not immediately leave. Rather a) he waits, stiff backed and formal by the door as Host’s filter out, not particularly inviting conversation but not fleeing, either. When the last host has left the room, he is found b) in the Training Wing, working his way through a number of the exercise machines with a single-minded focus, breathing heavily through his noses, hooved feet silent on the treadmill and the foam mats.

RHAN.
[After the briefing sessions, someone quick on their feet might manage to catch Rhan a) in the corridor leading from the briefing room. But you'll have to be very quick as she clearly has things to do and is shortly swallowed up by the labyrinthine corridors of the Station's interior. Some time later, she appears b) in the library, making space to shelve a series of small leatherbound books. Rhan flips open each one to check the label on the first page as she takes them from the open bag at her feet. The bag itself appears to be stuffed with…. well, stuff in addition to the books.]

Comments

[deployed]

Bellamy.

[ What he wants to do is reach and take the book directly out of her hand to examine for himself. He wants to know what language it's written in and if it's something he can read. The items in her bag are less pressing, though his gaze lingers on the little sachets curiously. ]

Who's the Collector? Prince?

[ Maybe a foolish question, but the library had always seemed to be Prince's. It was harder to get a grasp on what Cathaway preferred as far as location.

Regardless, Collector reminds him of Dante and Mount Weather and his storage room heaped with precious items. It's not a comforting association; a chill ripples outward before Bellamy can forcibly shake it away. ]

[isorropia]

[There something in the subharmonic tinge at the edge of her voice that makes her laughter pleasant like a bell ringing.]

Prince? No. He keeps stuff because he's sentimental. Collector gathers stuff because it's her purpose. You'll meet her later. She's sweet. [She fetches another book from the bag, checks the front and shelves it between two others.]

You gonna help me with this or just stand there, Bells?

[deployed]

Is she coming here or will we meet her when we leave the Station?

[ The word sweet lingers, snarling in at the edge of Bellamy's mind. It jars with Bellamy's initial impression, and the clash reverberates even as he crouches to dip a hand into the bag. The clutching ooze baby seems unbothered by the motion. ]

Have you been here before? Met Prince and Cathaway before now?

[ The idea of how close the Nests were connected is a point of contention. Bellamy's more curious about what Prince and Cathaway had been like before any of them had arrived. Even the shared memory Cathaway had pressed into his mind hadn't shed any particular light onto that subject. ]

damn you rp continuity

[isorropia]

We'll meet up with her down on the planet. [Rhan begins to pull a few miscellaneous books from the shelves, pushing them elsewhere to make more room for the journals. There's a couple left and they'll need the space. Better to keep them all in a row if possible, eh?]

This is where we were hatched. Prince and Cathaway were already Station guardians then too. We're not that old in the grand scheme of things I don't think. Why? Not getting along with mom and dad?

flaps hands gently at the timeline.

[deployed]

[ So something else to look forward when the go to ground. Bellamy's apprehension isn't totally gone, but it's diminished enough to consider the meeting with curiosity instead. ]

Does every Host hatch here?

[ Bellamy had known there were people who had come before. Other Hosts, long since gone, who had lived here before he did. But the idea of Cathaway and Prince being some degree of ancient is unexpected.

And harder to quantify, given how difficult Bellamy's found it to accurately keep track of time here. ]

I get along with them just fine. Cathaway is...kind.

[ In her way. ]

But I don't know very much about them. It's been hard to change that.

[isorropia]

Every host I know hatched here. I think there are supposed to be others - it's in the name right? This is station number seventy two; so where are the other seventy one? -, but I've certainly never met one.

[Rhan pats the cleared space on the shelf encouragingly. Hop to it, kid.]

I can tell you what I know about them, but I can't say if it'll satisfy you. Is there something specific you're curious about?

[Speaking of curiosities-- She indicates the animal curled around his arm with the tip of her chin.] Who's your friend?

[deployed]

[ On some level, Bellamy had assumed there was contact between stations even if he hadn't considered the idea that each station would perform the same task. He's still turning that over in his mind as Rhan prompts him to dip his hands into her sack and start lifting out books. ]

Were they always like this? Have they changed since you've known them?

[ Did anything here change? It seemed like beside the ever present sucking pull of the Nest, everything was ageless. He gently eases a book onto the shelf, fingers skimming down the spine as he nudges it into place. ]

I don't know. It hatched and it seems to like me.

[ And it has a last name longer than should be necessary for such a small creature, but Bellamy didn't see any reason why Noctis shouldn't pass on his family name. ]

Do you recognize it?

[isorropia]

Nope. Looks like a raddlerback, but the color's all wrong and they don't cling.

[As for Ma and Pa--]

I guess that depends on what they're like now. It's been a while since I was back here. [She hooks her elbow on the edge of the shelf and sets her cheek against her knuckles, more than happy to let him do all the hard work. Tit for tat.]

Prince is private and stuck up. Kind of overbearing and tries too hard. Worries. Cathaway is-- [she makes a wobbly gesture with her free hand] --and his been for as long as I've known her. She's probably weirder now. And Prince is probably more strict. They go strange when the hatch is slow and this is more young hosts than I've seen in... a long time.

[deployed]

No one recognizes it. Not even Cathaway and Prince.

[ So her let down doesn't particularly worry him. Bellamy's stopped expecting an answer to present itself, and in the meantime the little creature is happy enough to scuttle through the hallways unattended, but it always comes back to him or to Noctis. It feels less fragile, and Bellamy's stopped worrying about it's teeth. ]

What do you mean, young? Our age or how long we've been here, with the symbiotes implanted?

[ It comes back around to the passage of time again. Bellamy wonders what kind of effect the symbiote has on aging. Would he even be recognizable if he could ever make his way home? ]

[isorropia]

How long you've been here. There's, what? Twenty-eight of you with at least four more on the verge of hatching? And you're all so close. I've never known there to be more than two broods to hatch in the same cycle. It's a little incredible.

[A miracle, even. If she's looking at him with a little adoration, it's purely circumstantial. What a wonderful thing to know you're not as alone at the end of the universe as you thought you might be.

--Or maybe that's just talk so he'll put away all the books for her. She did say she's a liar.]

[deployed]

I thought this was just how it worked.

[ The weight of the ooze baby on his arm throws him a little, but he takes the time to carefully line up each book on the shelf. Bellamy handles books with the same delicacy that he'd lifted up ooze baby, though neither can technically be deemed as precious as Bellamy treats them. ]

How many where there when you hatched?

[ There's a brief stutter over the word hatched. Bellamy's first instinct was to say woke up, but he's mimicking her phrasing. ]

[isorropia]

Active agents? No idea. I couldn't tell you now either, before you ask. But when I hatched, it was just my brood here on the Station for two hundred and two days. Then we got two more hatches and I think it took - Karn, I don't know, that number's not fixed but lets say twenty days before the rest of their brood came around.

[She makes a small motion with her hand, forefinger drawing a circle to indicate the space around them. The Station at large, maybe.]

Big space for fourteen people. Not that we ever had that many. Poor old Giddy went to sleep before round two started tapping in. But let's linger on happier thoughts and bigger mysteries, shall we? [Absolutely nothing in her expression has flickered or shifted, but the darkness in her eyes may simply be hard to read. Her posture certainly seems easy enough.]

Have they sent you on any solo missions, or do they always keep this big group together? Consider me absolutely ravenous for anything you can tell me about your little army here.

[deployed]

[ Bellamy's fingers circle the rim of the cup as the ooze baby's claws dig fitfully into the muscle of his bicep. He wants to ask how she kept track of the days without losing time. There had to be a trick to it, but the questions that come later— ]

Is that going to help you give us an idea of how to proceed when we get down there?

[ Nyx and Sam had talked at such length about teamwork and transparency. But Bellamy can't help but hesitate. Outside of the briefing, the conversation takes on different overtones. ]

We're still new. Some of us have barely found their feet. I think they're taking things easy on us.

[ Which might be true. Bellamy knows there had been something before Concordia, and Shril had been just a step up from smash and grab. It feels more like an ommission than an outright lie. ]

Is you broodmate, Giddy, here? In the Nesting Deck?

[isorropia]

[She taps the corner of mouth and smiles down at him.]

Anything helps. You and us need to get to know each other pretty well pretty fast if we're going to be any good at this stuff, right?

[Something does soften in her face then though - some of the sly little edge to the tip of her head and the crook of her hip gentling. It's a thoughtful thing to ask. Not everyone would.]

Nope. He punched out.

[And that's enough of that, isn't it? No need to be dour. With a twist of her shoulders, Rhan straightens away from the bookshelf.]

That's sweet that they're having you all take it slow. They must want you to stick around.

[deployed]

[ Punched out. Bellamy's chest tightens, remembering Cathaway's explanations. It could happen to anyone sealed away on the Nesting Deck. But knowing it could happen and being told explicitly that there had once been someone here who had slept, then died rattles the fragile hope that such a thing could never happen. He's quiet for a minute, tapping a fingernail against the ornate seal embossed on the cup before he draws out the next book.

What did it feel like to lose a broodmate like that? It's distracting enough to disarm Bellamy momentarily, wariness slipping to match the softening of Rhan's expression. ]

I'm sorry.

[ He doesn't ask her to describe it. This wasn't going to be something he could prepare for. The silence hangs before Bellamy refocuses, presses on with the conversation. ]

I wasn't aware we had another option.

[ Home wasn't one yet, as far as Bellamy understood. ]

[isorropia]

Sure. There's always an option. In this case, I believe they're 'stay alive' or 'get dead.' [She makes a small humming noise, something like a chuckle.] I'm just saying I think it's pleasant. You know. All things considered.

--You're all a little grim, aren't you? Did something happen? Seems like you're all a bit fixated on blowing shit up. Haven't done that before, have you?

[deployed]

Most of us were grim before we hatched.

[ And Bellamy in particular has more than enough experience in this arena, where the choices are either effectively negotiate or wipe out their enemy. Swearing off that course of action didn't matter now. ]

Wasn't it like that with your brood? Didn't anyone carry things over from the worlds they came from before?

[ Telling her as little as possible about who they are feels...urgent to him. He's thinking of Echo, and the sharp cut of Lexa's caution and Murphy's wariness. The argument with Nyx over teamwork and openness is fresh in his mind, but Bellamy still has more than enough in his life to ward against that urge. ]

[isorropia]

Oh sure. Collector's still doing exactly the same thing she did back home; Lyr's still unrepentantly morose. Personally, I've always been an opportunist and this place offers nothing if not opportunity.

[There's no indictment in it though. He can be as grim as he likes. She shrugs, reaching down to fetch her bag once the last journal has been shelved.]

Personally I've decided to make the most of it.

[deployed]

[ It's not so far removed from what Carata had advised him. But Bellamy can't quite bring himself to reconcile his existence here with the loss of everything left behind on Earth. He shakes his head, silently disagreeing with the possibility. ]

What are you going to do with the rest?

[ Bellamy doesn't have any particular affinity for trinkets, but clearly someone up here must. ]

Won't any of those items be missed?

[ Even if they were, it likely wouldn't matter. Any of the people who would be looking would never track their missing goods to this ship. ]

[isorropia]

This junk?

[She kicks the bag with the toe of her shoe.]

It's mine. Or it was. I'm bringing the Station presents. Where do you think all this crap comes from?

[Rhan flashes him a grin and pats the bookshelf with a kind of affection.]

[deployed]

[ Thinking of the Station as a living creature still doesn't come easily to Bellamy. He looks up briefly, as if the ceiling will be smiling down at them, but redirects to her sack. ]

I thought it was collateral. Collected accidentally.

[ Like the ship Murphy had led them to. ]

Were we all supposed to have been bringing back presents?

[ Is that how you cared for a ship that was technically living? Bellamy sounds deeply skeptical. ]

[isorropia]

Some of it is. A lot of it's stuff that belonged to old Hosts, I'm sure - things they brought back for themselves and left behind when they died or went to sleep or, Karn, went on a long mission and forgot to pack their toothbrush. --Speaking of, there's a very comfortable pair of socks around here somewhere and I mean to find them before we leave again.

[Maybe if she thinks about them hard enough, the Station will surrender them to her like fishing them out behind the washing tub.]

But really, consider all this nonsense a personal quirk. Collector likes to keep things and I like to make sure that if something goes terribly wrong, the people who come after us won't be completely witless.

[Less a present for the Station then and more a gift for whatever godless generation comes after them.]

[deployed]

[ Old Hosts is incredibly morbid to think about, though on some level Bellamy must have known they existed. Nothing about this place had given the impression that this was a new operation. People had been filtering through this particular system for a fair amount of time, but hearing it confirmed so plainly is jarring. ]

I'll keep an eye out for any stray socks.

[ Not that the Station is likely to give anything to Bellamy, who hasn't acknowledged it as a living creature at all. ]

Can I ask you what you think our odds are at succeeding down there? Honestly?

[ Are they all gonna die, or what? ]

[isorropia]

Honestly? Now, that's a tall order.

[Can't he at least give her the pleasant comfort is a little half lie? Truth told in a particular way to make it sound more pleasant? People work so much better when there's a change for optimism. Particularly boys like this one, she thinks. All she needs to do is make hope seem like a glimmer on the horizon, and all sorts of things suddenly become possible to the grimmest sorts.]

Better with you than without, as wild an idea as that lovely conversation we all had earlier might make it seem. I suspect we actually have a good chance of discovering who our Enemy is working with, but what I don't know is how quickly we'll manage to do it or if we'll be arranged to shift the balance of the game once it's discovered. Finding out who they are is all well and good, but that does us nothing if we can't convince everyone else they're bad news without blowing our own cover.

That one I haven't quite figured out yet. But I'm hoping with more of us hanging around, we'll be more likely to make unexpectedly useful friends.

[Tactfully, she avoids all mention of potential death. It simply doesn't beat becoming paranoid about.]

[deployed]

[ Optimism hasn't ever led to anything good. After Mount Weather, after Pike's leadership, Bellamy wants at least some idea of the stakes and he wants to at least be able to consider how risky their chosen approach will be. He's quiet for a long moment, considering her words, resisting the urge to reach directly into her mind to try to gain a more complete picture. ]

Not all of us are very good at making friends.

[ But Bellamy doesn't let himself go any farther. He needs to talk to Lexa and to Murphy. He doesn't want Rhan to be his sounding board while he considers the odds stacked against him. ]

There's some people I need to talk to. I'll see you when we leave?

[ The idea of "see you around" feels strange. The Station seems to deliver people to each other unexpectedly without much bearing on actual intention at times. ]