[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

common area

[adamance]

[If only because there is no apparent reason not to, Lexa finds herself watching the unnecessarily theatrical display of the books, one by one, as they leave his robes. She doesn't blink, doesn't allow her mind to pass, and most significantly, she doesn't let him know even an ounce of what she's thinking when he's doing this. She is curious, but restrained in her curiosity, careful to keep that to herself.

After all: she wouldn't want him to misread it. Her curiosity is placed firmly on wondering why he's going through such a display. Does he think them all illiterate? Or incapable of finding books themselves? Or is there something more to it?

As it is, when his words come, she only responds with a fleeting hint of agitation—at first. Her eyes look on for a moment before she speaks, as she has a sense that this will be a conversation that either proves interesting or is simply infuriating. Either way, she wants to have control over it, and opening the door to her mind to invite him in that much more seems to be the way to lose that control.

(She does hope it's interesting.)]

What do you hope they'll say?

[Lexa makes no move to help him. It's not that she has a thing against books—she loves books—but she assumes that there is a goal in mind. Otherwise, why be so ... boldly purposeful?]

[ryohji]

I'm not sure.

[ immediately he realizes here's nothing to be gained from pretending otherwise. some people oblige a straight answer, or as straight of an answer kaji is capable of giving. she's one of them. he doesn't know how he knows - it could be by virtue of the connection that he's come to this determination so quickly, and so surely, or it could be his intuition, which he trusts more that the bug in his brain.

the gulf between their minds reminds kaji of his correspondences with rhan, or cathaway. there's nothing she awards him except the hot prick of agitation, and even then it comes and goes seemingly on her own terms. it's nothing like his interactions with the other hosts, some of which overwhelm him with a deluge of leaking, incoherent impressions and emotions.

kaji wants to someday develop that kind of steely control, he realizes. he also knows that you didn't develop mastery by believing lies or inventing delusions about reality, and he had never been one to deny his deficiencies. that is the impression he hopes to impart to her: immediate, easy deference, and plain faced respect. ]

But some books are worth more than what's on their pages.

[adamance]

[The immediate respect only assures her that she had been right to think that this might prove interesting. Lexa wonders, idly, whether he's heard of her: not unlikely, as among this group she's been here the longest. Many have come and gone, slipped away or died, but she's remained. It was in the face of Prince's words that she knew she had to make up for what she lost. She had to become stronger, fortify her training, be everything a brood was meant to be—and not lose herself in the process. Whether she's accomplished it is yet to be seen.

Or perhaps there's something else to it—perhaps it's nothing more than her tendency to command respect. A number have asked whether she was in charge right away. Lexa wishes that were true. The symbiote may help them identify someone who was born to be a leader.

They may all just be fanciful thoughts in the end and nothing more. She'll accept that deference, because Lexa does appreciate respect. She believes she deserves it, as she's been raised to know nothing else.]

And you think these books are special in some way? Do you come from a world where they're often hard to find? [There's a sense to this question here: she does. She allows him that.]

[ryohji]

[ his deference, her acceptance of that deference. this is how the drum beats. deference and respect are the mediums of exchange he offers, or withholds, from people who are used to obtaining them with little difficulty. soldiers. directors. commanders. they made pigs of themselves on it, and he was glad to oblige them with it, gorge them on it if it meant their lowering their guards even meagerly. ]

Where I come from, you can tell when something's of extraordinary value. [ something in kaji's expression evinces even the smallest suspicion that he isn't taking much about books, not anymore. ] Sometimes logic leads you there. Sometimes, it's instinct.

[ and sometimes, as of very recently in fact, it's something even more base and immutable. sometimes it's a bug in your brain that sees you to these conclusions, and what's more, tricks you into thinking they've come of your own volition. kaji isn't certain if he'd arrive at the same conclusion, otherwise. she was young - young like clarke. ] Sorry. The name is Kaji.

[adamance]

Kaji, [she repeats, though the name is unfamiliar to her. Misato has shown support for Lexa's actions and decisions, has shown her some of the same deference that Kaji shows her today, but she knows little of the woman's background. Their interaction has been based on how they might approach a situation instead of who they are. The biographical details of their lives seemed unimportant.]

I am Lexa. [Whether she's aware that her name might mean something is beyond her. Some part of her is conscious that if Clarke has arrived, there is a chance of a new tree of bonds, people twined together against their will due to the symbiote that links them. That same part of her knows of her own elation in seeing Clarke again, and the drowning pain that Clarke felt in having to see someone who had died again. But she doesn't pry into the matters of knowledge or identity with her. Equal footing is better than none at all.

Or the imitation of that—as Lexa is still fond of that initial deference.]

No matter what value you see, you do recall that we're guests here. [The shift in focus toward the books is purposeful, rather than back into the tendency of double-meaning layered in every word. Lexa is fond of those conversations.] Do you truly trust your instincts if they tell you to gain what may not be an objective source?

[ryohji]

It's -

[ the realization comes belatedly, but the impact feels no less like a freight train arriving post-post-haste. lexa, a shot in the dark fired off by some past reincarnation of himself. the fact of the matter is that the name for its namesake holds no value to him, but there is a strange impulse that forces him to consider its significance all the same. it doesn't belong, it sticks out in all unwieldy corners in the box of names of people he's known and recognized. but it's not a stranger's name, nevertheless.

it also occurs to him that it's past due time for him to finish the statement. his eyes settle more firmly on hers, inviting her to clarify what's only on the tip of his tongue. ]

- Lexa. It's a pleasure. [ no amount of deja-vu will prevent kaji from following the conversation as it turns and curves. he picks up a book, feeling its weight. ] If I was lacking for good instincts, well, I wouldn't be here right now. Don't worry.

[ bells and whistles. speaking of instincts. the question tumbles out barely of his own volition. ]

Clarke. [ like finding gold at the end of a rainbow. kaji sounds so sure. ] I think you know her, but don't ask me why.

[adamance]

[Ah, the dots connect. Lexa remembers knowing—respecting, mourning—Anakin Skywalker before he died because of his ties to Ahsoka Tano. She never spoke to him herself, but it never felt necessary. His lack of ease with Kylo Ren had been communicated to her, and some part of her understood why he would feel that way. She understood why Ahsoka would resent Kylo Ren, even without the depth of knowledge about their world. (She still knows so little; she doubts that will ever change now.)

Her neck straightens for a moment before she nods in understanding—to the latter part, not the former words. The revelation of Clarke and brood is more important than whether he has good instincts.]

You'll understand soon enough, [she says, knowing very well that her words are opaque. As much as her walls give the impression of being like concrete, the sentiment that follows rattles them just the same, showing how shaky their foundations really are. After all, there's a warmth that can only come with love, with respect, with understanding—that comes with elevating Clarke in her mind, in seeing her has someone uniquely special.

So, "soon enough" is likely "in that moment."]

It's good to know that someone in her brood is sensible to understand why you're here. Your instincts led to you saving your life. A great deal of people tend to forget that part when they see the complications that come with it. [Lexa assumes a lot with these words, knowing that she could very well be wrong. But he presents himself as someone adaptable, so it's a matter of seeing how adaptable.]