[hatch log / mission: hyrypia] the winds that will be howling at all hours

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: Station 72; Hyrypia - Naerstone House
WHEN: DAY :002 - :003
SUMMARY: New hosts hatch on the Station, are briefed, then make their way to Hyrypia to join the rest of the hosts… while they attend a very important history lesson.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

STATION 72
DAY :002

NEW HATCHES
YOU WAKE UP are 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 surfacing up from the darkness of some wine dark sea. Nothing is different and everything is because 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.

But here you are, a small miracle of the multiverse: lying in a small, faintly hexagonal chamber with 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 calmed. There's something peaceful about waking up here - like you belong. 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 nearby 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.In fact there are lots of you and none of them are the strangers they should be. Some even seems like people you've known for a very long time.They are as familiar as this place you've never been is.

Welcome to Station 72. Beyond this room it's quiet and still, feeling for all the world like a hollow shell.

--Or it does until a voice separates itself from the white noise in your head:


BRIEFING
THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD isn't really a voice at all. It's the warm tang of camaraderie, tinged with a flash of impatience like ticking hands on a clock face and a flicker of wonder: a falling star. It says:

( My, you're all very fresh aren't you? Unfortunately, the multiverse waits for no spring chicken. Once you've figured out which way's up, won't you all join us? )
Join 'us' where is the question. And yet, once you're ready to meet the owner of the voice in your mind, your footsteps simply lead you there naturally. Two strangers sit in a small circular briefing room - a tall being covered in short brown fur with a rigid demeanor, and a pale alien with yellow washed frills at her jaw and throat who is smiling cheerfully.

"Hey there, sunshine," says Rhan, her frills humming as she speaks. "Why don't you take a seat so we can get started?"

[ooc note: please see here for the catch-all briefing thread]


THE STATION
WITH A LITTLE UNDER 24 HOURS before it's time to make the trip to Hyrypia, this is as good an opportunity as you're going to get to familiarize yourself with Station 72 before you leave it. There's plenty to see, but a distinct lack of people to make conversation with. It's lonely and quiet and there's a sensation of dust gathering even where there is none. Maybe studying the briefing files on your databank and going over your mission kit is the most proactive distraction, but if not? Well there's plenty of places to get lost...

HYRYPIA - NAERSTONE HOUSE
DAY :003

MEETING
A SINGLE SHIP LANDS in a field the color of burnished gold, returning to the place it had until late the night before occupied. It's carefully inserted beside dozens of other spacecraft bearing more than faint similarities, though each has its own unique aesthetic. When the gangplank drops, the loud engines powering down, it reveals--

New hosts. Seven fresh faces - obscured as they are in layers of intricate fabric - are led down the gangplank by Rhan There to greet them is a number of other hosts - any who answered to the sweet crystalline ring of Collector’s voice in their heads hardly a half hour earlier, speaking with certainty born of truth:

( Rhan and Siva’co are returning. Shall we see what stories they have to tell? )

Despite the solidarity that both combined groups provide, there's a feeling of eyes here. A number of guards along the edge of the shuttle field are watching the reunion like hawks. Better perhaps to return to the apartments where they'll be able to speak in private and teach the new hosts what it is that has been learned since their arrival. --Or explore, for those who prefer not to rest. Naerstone House's grounds are vast and they are almost entirely open to the parties of the pilgrims to explore.

THE PERFORMANCE
AS THE SINGLE RED SUN of Hyrypia dips low on the horizon there is a long, low, mournful sound. A deep bell-- or a horn? Or maybe it's something else entirely, but the call is heard and answered as any nearby servants inform the guests of the house:

“There will be a performance of the First Journey in a quarter turn. All guests are invited to attend.”

There's no mystery as to where the event is occurring. A steady trail of guests and servants lead out past the Veranda into the central garden where a number of pillars have been mounted and a large tiered platform festooned with with numerous draped curtains and abstract representations of trees and mountains - a great stage - now sits. The stage is surrounded by numerous low settees and tables, piles of thick cushions and richly colored rugs around which guests can be found clustered, lounging while sipping thick, syrupy drinks.

Each table is illuminated only by a single glowing orb at its center. Otherwise, as the sun sets it pitches the garden into darkness as even the castle itself has been left unlit. There are no lights in distant windows or on Naerstone House's high walls; these small orbs and the glitter of stars in the black sky might very well be the only points of light in the whole universe.

The allotted time passes and the performance begins. A sun rises over the stage. It's a much larger, more intricate glowing orb and reveals a number of players dressed far more simply than the Hyrypians the hosts have met. They wear complex machine masks upon their faces that shutter into different expressions as their hands flitter across their faces: dramatic caricatures to accompany the droning sound of their singing voices as they unfold the tale at the center of the performance - the one which drives this pilgrimage and for the Nest's very presence in the universe at all. It's the story of lost Rabadoceans coming to a planet near barren intent on brutalizing them - about loss and hardship until finally a single player separates from the rest. The orb of the sun over the stage turns, it's mechanical face shifting and resetting to indicate the passage of time as the very central platform of the stage begins to turn so that this lone player might walk. And walk. And walk through deserts and scrub land, through dark woods and dark caves, against the wind and with it. Through it all, the orb over the stage slowly lowers until at last this lone player can take it in their hands.

It cracks like an egg and brilliance streams from it. Braziers catch fire in the darkness. The garden illuminates itself. Every light in Naerstone House comes to life.

With that, the silence of the crowd breaks. There is applause -- each culture in its own unique fashion -- and then there is a rise of chattering conversation as the guests are served several small dishes and talk about the show they’ve just seen - and whatever possible clues it might give to the pilgrimage they themselves would soon be undertaking.

---

((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new hosts as well as the evening's performance. 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 and additional setting information about the Station HERE. Please be sure to review the MISSION: HYRYPIA ooc information. If you have any questions, please hit up either the mission's question thread, the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

wow!!

[unsea]

That was a mistake.

[ Is it as though he ever left?

The only thing that could keep him from returning to those who belonged to him was death. And even then, he had faked his own demise so often, and lived beyond the years of even his own kind - the only death that would take him was a unique one. It's clear that he finds Bellamy's concern misplaced, but received without question. Or blame. After all, Aleksander had forced a vow from him that he had not kept, himself.

And Bellamy had been the one to care for him; which he finds reeks of his tenderness, his attachment to others, the depths of his heart. It comes back to him, filling in the recesses of their connection. ]

Of course you did. We came into this together, I would have preferred we not be separated, but - I needed a nap.

[ there's cruel humor in it, as he presses his hands to the fold of Bellamy's arms. don't stand so defensively, he knows his way in. ]

You had Murphy and the commander, to keep you company. Now, you have Clarke.

[deployed]

[ A mistake. Bellamy's head ducks, grim smile splitting his mouth. The coma could be dressed in such terms, but they all rang false. What control did any of them have? The Darkling had slipped away from him, and Bellamy had watched Cathaway dig a tube into his neck and close him away and the weeks without him had stretched suffocatingly onward. It hadn't felt like a mistake.

But he still sways slightly forward, drawn inevitably in the way he always had been. The bond between them is vibrant and alive. It's hard to ignore, and it's harder to hold onto his anger in the face of the sensation. ]

And if you hadn't woken up?

[ Bruce and Rey still sleep. They're ghostly, severed presences now. Bellamy can't forget them, but they'd been different from the Darkling, and they're different from Clint. Bellamy hadn't known a time when he wasn't connected to them. ]

You made me swear to you that I wouldn't end up in a pod. You weren't supposed to be the one I had to worry about.

[ Bellamy's frustration is clear. He can't hold onto his anger because he knows just how futile it is in their situation. This isn't something the Darkling could control any more than Bellamy could. He breathes out, arms loosening slightly. ]

You met her?

[unsea]

[ That Bellamy crossed the room to begin with, is enough of a gesture for him to know him by. He could have kept his distance. Punished the both of them by denying himself what was needed - the proximity of a lost broodmate, a twin. ]

But, I did. Why entertain what did not happen - I woke.

[ He is awake and he is here; and he takes a look around the room, weighing the privacy of this place before he reaches for the head cover he wears and he lifts it up, enough to expose his face. The grey of his eyes, the cut of his teeth when he smiles so easily at Bellamy. Bellamy, who begins to leave himself defenseless again - enough so that he can take the young man's wrists and press his thumbs to his pulse. To lean in, and press his mouth to his temple. ]

She's everything you said that she was. Vibrant, forceful.

[ The edge in his voice suggests that he would be unhappy, should Bellamy's mind turn towards her too often. ]

You are a lucky man, Bellamy. She and I have both returned to you.

[deployed]

[ Denying the Darkling was impossible. It was difficult with all of his brood, but the Darkling—

He had been there before Bellamy had any mental walls to speak of. It was if they had grown together like vines. Bellamy's ability to maintain petty anger in the face of his return is utterly demolished. It would be like trying to sever a part of himself. The Darkling's hands close over his wrists, fingers pressing over the vulnerable thud of his pulse, and the tension doesn't leave Bellamy's body, but he exhales slowly. The nearness is a comfort against the ragged-torn hole the Darkling's coma had created. His fingers twitch as the Darkling's lips find his temple. ]

I never wanted her to be here.

[ Which is both truth and lie: Bellamy had wanted Clarke here, and badly, the same way he longed for Octavia. But he knew they could not easily escape this place so he'd tried to pretend otherwise. Apparently, it had all been for nothing. ]

What did you say to her?

[ He must have said something. Bellamy's mind follows the question by winding in slowly; the way into the Darkling's mind hasn't changed, and the need to rattle an answer loose falls by the wayside as their minds connect. ]

[unsea]

I told her that I knew you.

[ Intimately, is the tone. There was nothing more intimate than the connection, mind-to-mind. He had known it with Alina, and even she had never been as wound through him as Bellamy, as the rest of Gacrux. Bellamy, especially. He reaches. Thumbs along the angle of Bellamy's jaw, emptily affectionate as he tries to coax him to forgive.

Forgive him, Bellamy. It was out of his hands, what happened. ]

I introduced her to the nature of this connection. You and I in comparison to her and I.

[ He thinks, and smiles slowly as he does. ]

What did you think I would say to her?

[deployed]

[ Intimate is the right word. There can't be any other way to describe how close broods are. Before Angel had taught him, his mind had been open completely to them; Bellamy had felt every passage of thought and emotion between them. He still can now. The Darkling's fingers on his jaw shake loose the last of his guards. They settle into each other the way they had after the failed infiltration on Concorida, when the Darkling had come to him and shown him more of his past than Bellamy was sure he'd meant to offer. ]

I don't know.

[ What Bellamy would have wanted the Darkling to tell her is likely very different from what had been said. His hand finds the front of the Darkling's robe and tangles there, holding him in place as much as steadying himself. ]

We'll teach her to close her mind.

[ By "we" Bellamy really means Lexa, who has managed better than Bellamy ever will. ]

[unsea]

[ There.

Bellamy settles, his fingers finding the robe before him and clutching at it. The Darkling's hands find his hatchtwin's hair and tousle it, affectionate and annoyed all at once. This one is the most dangerous, in all of the nest. He bleeds and bleeds and worms his way throughout the Darkling's mind, slow and unstoppable. Bellamy had been the first he'd known. The first he thought of, when he came back.

He knows of Clarke, because of him. If he likes anything about her, he blames Bellamy for it. ]

If she's anything like you've shown me, she'll be a natural.

[ As for you, mister!!! ]

Do you forgive me for leaving you?

[deployed]

[ The petty urge to say no presents itself. Clarke had never asked, because forgiveness had been a forgone conclusion. Of course he forgave her. It had been unspoken, though it remains to be seen if leaving everything between them unsaid was the best course of action. The Darkling poses the question to bridge the same gap, and Bellamy wavers, pettiness falling away as he answers: ]

Yes.

[ It hadn't been the Darkling's fault. Bellamy couldn't pretend he'd had control, as much as he would like to. ]

Don't do it again.

[ His tone is jocular, skirting around the truth they are both aware of now: neither of them could prevent this from happening again. ]

[unsea]

[ He is not Clarke. When he asks for forgiveness, it's not because he thinks he needs it, for this relationship to function. It's because he wants to hear that Bellamy will give it to him - and the more a supplicant that his broodmate becomes, the better. This is how he is, has been, and will be. ]

Thank you.

[ Just as planned.

He tucks his hands around Bellamy's face, pressing his thumbs just under his eyes. Lifting, looking at him with a deep, disconcerting fondness. Bitch be a yandere, Eppy. ]

What happened, while I was away? At the Waypoint, with the "prize"?

[deployed]

[ Gina's face flickers in his mind. She'd cupped his face like this once, told him to come back to her safely. He hadn't seen her again after that. She'd died, because he had believed the place he'd left her in was safe. No one had blamed Bellamy, but he blamed himself. He still does, even as his shoulders relax and his mind casts back to Waypoint and their mad dash through the city to escape it. ]

The tournament wasn't what I expected.

[ And Bellamy had been confused and resentful of each new event. But the prize— ]

It was an egg. It hatched while Noctis and I were holding it.

[ Ooze baby rises in his mind, and he looks around the room immediately, wondering if it's trailed him in. ]