[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

[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. ]

[isorropia]

[Rhan seems to take the apparent end of their conversation happily in stride. Sure, let him do whatever he likes. She isn't going to stand in his way. Rhan gives him an indulgent smile, shrugging small with her narrow shoulder.]

Sure thing, Bells. I'll see you when we jump out of this place.

[Not that she'd complain if he did decide to pour his heart out to her. But those are things better left unsaid too. They make a gal seem suspicious.]