[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

[ryohji]

[ the hand is accepted promptly, but it's the introduction that lets his smile wax from 'receptive good nature' to a more 'fond attentiveness'. ]

That's quite a name. [ and it demands even more esteem coming hot off the heels of kaji's own, two meager syllables and all. juxtaposed like this, kaji's name might as well suit a little lapdog, or a talking parrot. ] But I'm sure you've heard that before, if most people here share in my ordinariness. Don't tell me I'm speaking to a king of some faraway land.

[ honestly, it wouldn't change kaji's conduct or manner of speech, not the least one bit. ]

[somnifacient]

I've been told it's a mouthful. [He adds wryly, smile going a little lopsided. He drops his hand, and it rests on the book once more, fingers idly playing at the edge of its cover.] And honestly, if you've been brought here [or the Station, he means]... I don't know. I feel like no one here can really be called ordinary, once you get to know them more.

[But- ah. That last comment sends a wave of something awkward out, and Noctis purses his lips together, cobbling together a response.]

Uh... [Don't worry, it's not like Noctis' manner of speech is any more eloquent.] Actually, funny thing about that.

[ryohji]

[ quiet, noctis. he'll take his inferiority complex with him to the grave.

like the pregnant silence that follows a particularly bad joke, kaji fixes him a gaze steady and unrevealing, biding time for a just kidding or fooled you, freshman. seconds more pass before it's replaced by a smile colored awe, and slightly incredulous. ]

Pleased to make your royal acquaintance, Your Highness. [ that is perhaps the most reverent sentence to ever come out of this mouth, and one that kaji had never anticipated needed saying, even if he was only scarcely serious. ] Though, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't come across much like one. I can see a dashing prince, or a dark and mysterious knight.

[ he means no offense, there - only that the man is approachable! and handsome! it could be the costume, though, that's obscuring his more kingly attributes. ]

[somnifacient]

[no, noctis will wheedle at that inferiority complex without meaning to and you can't stop him

Noctis doesn't quite wince, not really. He's had Your Highness thrown in his direction many times in the past, and considering it's a proper sort of title, he should react to it more than just a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. But instead of frowning, instead of shaking his head to stave off the initial wave of awkwardness, instead of smiling and laughing it away, he does shrug. Any reverence, joking or not, directed at him will slide off of him like oil on water.

Though he's not sure how to take what he assumes are... compliments?]

No offense taken. It's not like I didn't used to be a prince at some point.

[And don't worry, there are no kingly attributes under these robes. Just 5'8" of a skinny 30-year old manchild.]

But none of that matters here. Titles are kind of a moot point. Even the one guy who technically is supposed to serve me just gives me shit all the time now.

[ryohji]

[ station 72 is not wanting for 30 year old manchildren, it seems.

kaji laughs, an honest, candid laugh; no, definitely not what he'd expect from a king. ]

I can't say I'm surprised. [ rank was a moot point everywhere he went, for good or ill. kaji used to make it a habit to sit on his commander's desk whenever he'd been giving the displeasure of conferencing with the hard-boiled stone of a man. said commander also possessed the keys to the end of the world. ] Take away the titles, the status, and the expectations, and all you have left is a sack of skin and bones. I can imagine some people wouldn't hesitate at the chance to let you know.

[ he took pride in being that 'some person', but noctis didn't look like he needed reminders. the unvarnished humbleness, evinced by the shrug and more, impresses him. ]

[somnifacient]

[Noctis feels more comfortable being treated like a normal person than a member of the royal Lucis Caelum line. It's a consequence of wanting to be out of sight, away from being trodden underfoot by his life in the CItadel, surrounding by councilmen and Glaives and his father, who had his hands full of everything. Juggling a war, keeping up a Wall around the capital city, draining his life force as each day passed. He had learned from an early age to remain aloof, mature, as if he were not someone who needed tending to, waited on hand and foot.

Results often varied. The main consequence was that he became ingrained with an aloofness that he cannot ever quite shake away; and while he's gone through his fair share of trials and tribulations back home, concerning accepting his responsibilities, he sees no point in having others validate them for him here.]

A sack of skin and bones... that's one way to put it. [That made them all sound so very fragile, though. Insignificant, nothing but heaps of flesh trying to survive. He frowns a little at the thought.

Noctis waves a hand, a little dismissively.] I haven't have that many throw it back in my face yet.

What about you? You have kings and queens where you're from?

[ryohji]

No.

[ the emperor and his chrysanthemum throne don't count, not in any way that's relevant to this conversation. that the throne has survived so long in the wake of recent disaster was a product of mass delusion, and a desperate need to take refuge in what's familiar. an infant-like regression. ]

We have cities ruled by machines. [ some of which more organic than others. kaji speaks carefully, taking pains to make clear the dystopic abaddon that was post-impact japan. ] Super-computers, to put it more precisely, but I don't know how familiar you are with that term. [ then again, this man might be more technologically nescient than even mat, so kaji anticipates having to first explain machines. ] And of course, we have the men and women who make the machine, and those who try to fight it. Where I'm from, power changes hands very quickly. It's about choosing which side you're on, even if it's just for a moment.

[ kaji leans back against his seat, satisfied with his answer despite its astounding ambiguity. ]

A moment being a day, or an hour, if you're a man like me.

[somnifacient]

[The simple answer of no creates a stronger buzz of curiosity. Noctis' attention hooks into Kaji as he speaks, and he makes no real intent on hiding it. Like a kid learning something new, he always finds talk of other people's worlds fascinating.]

I know what a super-computer is. [He says it not to correct, but to clarify for the sake of the man not needing to dumb down his words for his sake. He offers him the image of Insomnia, the capital city, a veritable living metropolis. Skyscrapers, expensive cars, cellphones. Giant screen televisions, plastered on the walls of wide buildings, blasting the latest news of the war.

He lets that settle and fade. The next question is an obvious one.]

And what kind of man are you?

[ryohji]

[ the image he offers is enough to make tokyo-3 look like a backwater spit hole. call him striked dumb. kaji submits a quick order of humility over the link, in apology for hasty conclusions. ]

A mole.

[ a reverse, quadruple, sextuple mole, but the torpid details never really mattered. kaji knows when to reveal his cards, what questions required of him simple honesty and what questions required even simpler perjury. and this mission made spies out of all of them, didn't it? station 72, the great equalizer. ]

[somnifacient]

[He may as well be waving away the thread of humility, with how very little he seems to care. His interest doesn't lie in establishing what he does and doesn't know; only the story that this man has brought along with him, from this world. They may all be equalized, but that doesn't mean Noctis isn't a little amazed by the workings of another setting, universes away from his own.]

Sounds like you'd be perfect for this mission, then.

[Noctis slides his book forward, letting him take it back if he likes.]

So which side were you really on? Back home.

[ryohji]

It wasn't like that.

[ if only he were so lucky. if only it were so simple. if only his wants had anything to do with it. apparently, to judge by kaji's thinly disguised smile, some passion had crept into his recollection. ]

I followed the truth, wherever it took me. I didn't have the luxury of choosing sides.