[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

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Responsibility feels different, without Steve's presence in his mind. Sam honestly can't pin down how - is it heavier, the extra determination not to lose anyone else, is it bitter, the edge that Sam can feel that reminds him of the way he'd once lost his reason - but he tries not to dwell, tries to keep going, to focus on what's here and now.

He tries.

He uses his coping skills, he puts himself out there among the people he doesn't know as well so he has to fake it - he leans on the connections that are rooted deep in his mind when he forgets, when he touches the space where Steve should be and comes up empty.

Sam can feel the way Bucky starts to crack, the way both of their foundations shift over Steve's absence like sand, and he doesn't know if he -

But he tries anyway.

Most of the others are out exploring, out mingling, or maybe out hiding, but Sam hangs back in the relative privacy of their room in the apartments, settling himself more in their connection as he slips automatically into Bucky's personal space. ]

( Stay with me for a bit? )

[bracchium]

[Bucky knows this conversation is coming, should expect it really--- should have initiated it---, but he still feels off guard some how when Sam asks him to stay back. All of his nerves are so raw and exposed, his core open and wounded and he can't seem to bandage himself back up. Over the brood link, Sam suffers too, Bucky can feel it, but instead of leaning into the brood bond, he stands at the edge, unsure.

His side of the link is abuzz with nervous energy as the blizzard picks up in intensity, even while he attempts to buckle it behind barbed wire. Except there's a missing person's paper stuck to the wire, featuring a thin blonde with distinct features.

He's here, but he's not sure for how long.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ It's almost a physical ache, feeling Bucky hang back at the edge of the brood bond, the way he doesn't reach for it when Sam does. It's not like this is the first time he's pulled back, and Sam gets it, he does - he does - but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

Sam's not at the top of his game, is the thing, and he knows they can do this together but - he doesn't know if he can be strong for himself.

He tugs at the barbed wire, ignoring the bite of the cold - let me, I can handle it, we can handle it -

They always do. ]

( We can do this. )

[bracchium]

[Sam's ache feeds into the bond, the pain sliding through the barbed wire unhindered despite Bucky's best efforts. No, stop--- chunks of frozen steel flake away when Sam pulls and a surge of defensive anger rises underneath, bleeding from his open wounds. Friends are supposed to be there for each other, he thinks, but he doesn't know how and he can't stop the hands pulling at the wires. Weapons aren't equal, weapons can't say no.

But he doesn't know how to handle this, how to handle losing Steve when, once upon a time, Steve was all he had in a void of memories. Things had been rocky with Steve since arriving on the Station and Bucky still hadn't completely fixed things when the link went quiet. If the other Bucky had been here, things would be easier for everyone. He'd be able to help Sam, help Steve. Instead, a broken weapon is awake while a good man is asleep, possibly forever.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Sam lets go immediately, as soon as he feels that anger, as he gets the impression of no, stop.

As much as he loves hassling Bucky, as much as he'll push when Bucky can handle it, he doesn't ever want to be someone who ignores picking up on when Bucky's trying to say no. He can't be, not with this thing between them, he can't be someone Bucky is afraid to say no to - more than he already is from the programming.

This is easier ground than touching what it means for both of them that Steve is asleep, and they still have to keep going. He's kept Bucky safe from the programming before, and Sam will never stop having faith in Bucky. In them.

His faith in himself is a little shook right now, but that's still going strong. ]

( Fuck whatever other Bucky may or may not be there. The only one that should be here is. You're here, sunshine, so be here. I know you can. )

[bracchium]

[When Sam lets go, Bucky's defenses double down. Ice seals the barbed holes, tucking emotions behind walls where they can stay contained, where he can stay contained. The response from Sam is met with another dose of anger. Sam can't know that the other Bucky wouldn't be better suited for this, the one in Steve's memories, the one with two fucking arms and without a head full of programming. Sam once said that all his broken pieces fit with his, that the two of them together work better than separately, but Bucky shakes his head at that now. Bucky can hardly function with the constant presence of so many minds pressed against his and the pressure of the mission has been weighing heavier since Steve fell asleep.

It doesn't make any sense. None of it does. And he's useless in the face of such odds and uncertainty.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ The sting of Bucky holding himself back, cutting himself off, sharpens. Sam doesn't follow suit. Maybe it's stupid to keep leaving himself open, a reminder that Bucky's got another option and a hope that he'll take it, but he does it anyway.

Even when it means he gets that surge of anger, the feeling of uselessness, the hollow ache of Steve's absence, and it echoes with Sam's own. ]

( You think I don't know I'm not Steve? I know, all right, I know. I'm never gonna be him, but I'm trying. I- )

[ I'm still here, he thinks, but he cuts off before he puts it to words because he's not sure it matters. He reminds himself that neither of them are in any kind of state to be thinking straight, but that doesn't matter, either.

He doesn't want to feel Bucky thinking that it doesn't matter that Sam's here, not without Steve. ]

( Let me be here. )

[bracchium]

[Sam's right. He doesn't need to say it. For all of Bucky's defenses, the brood link connects them deeper. Sam's not Steve, but Bucky never meant he wanted Sam to be Steve. Guilt follows hot on the tail of Sam's response. Let me be here. Let me help you, he hears. Because he's not Steve either, not by the longest of long shots. He's not even the good Bucky, much less Steve. His heart sinks in his chest. Useless. Fucking useless broken thing. All his pieces don't make up for the hole in their lives.

He doesn't want to be here right now, can't be here right now. Not with the stakes of the mission, with the new Hosts, with the information feeding through other sources. Bucky can't even focus on what he does best: missions. Others have done so much more while he struggles to function like a basic human being.

And he's dragging Sam down with him, a drowning man threatening the well-being of his rescuer He needs to move, needs to run. Now.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

( You're not- )

[ It's a thought that Sam starts but doesn't finish, because he's not sure what he's protesting. Bucky's not useless - shit, he's so damn far from useless, but Sam can't put into words how much Bucky means to him.

Misato's words echo in Sam's head - are you just looking for people to save - and Sam had denied it, but right now he wonders. Is that what he's doing here, just trying to save Bucky? As soon as he thinks it, though, his mind rebels. He's not, and he doesn't need Bucky to drag him down.

Sam does that well enough all on his own.

They're adrift, without Steve, and Sam can't figure out to tilt them back enough - he can't figure out how to be enough for Bucky.

How could he be? Even if Bucky never meant for Sam to feel like he needs to be Steve - Sam feels it enough himself. And even if Sam has never wanted Bucky to be anyone but who he is, someone caught between a weapon and a soldier, Bucky has never felt like he was enough. It's something they have in common, and maybe usually it makes their connection stronger - but right now it's too much, and even though Sam can feel them feeding off each other, he can't stop it. ]

( I don't want anything but you. If I gotta take a step back until you figure that out, I will, just - stay. )

[ I believe in you, he doesn't say but he feels - I love you, he keeps to himself, because this is a hell of a time to realize that, and neither of them need it right now.

Or maybe they both need it, but - Sam doesn't know what to do with it. ]

[bracchium]

[They're too deep in each other to avoid the feedback looping between them. Inadequacy cycles back through and Bucky hears the echoes of a conversation he never had: are you just looking for people to save? He blinks and turns to stare at Sam. Is that what he is? A pet project? Another experiment just in different hands this time? Or a way for Sam to ease some guilt, a way to assure himself that at least he isn't the Winter Soldier? If someone as irredeemable as a broken weapon can be saved, then anyone can.

Why did Sam agree to help Steve with him in the first place? Back when he was nothing more than an enemy combatant? To save the world? To take down a criminal responsible for hundreds of deaths?

Is that what this entire friendship, relationship is founded on? The programming reminds him that weapons aren't equal, that weapons don't form friendships, that for him to think he was more was foolish, dangerous. He's not worth all this, not even if it were for some kind of personal project.

He's a broken weapon, a failed project, and staying would be a bigger mistake. There's no need to believe in him anymore, Steve's not around to give approval points.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

No.

[ The word's out of him like a burst of energy, denial so vehement that it can't be contained. No, their friendship, this relationship, it's never been about easing Sam's guilt or gaining Steve's approval or anything but Bucky. ]

( You've never been a pet project, sunshine, you gotta know it's not about- I want you, you gotta know. )

[ Because Sam saying it will make Bucky believe it more, apparently. The dark edge of chaos in Sam's mind that he knows Bucky's seen, tangled up in each other as they are, is pulsing stronger than it's ever been, a confusing ache of grief-loss-bitterness-inadequacy-longing - but still, over it all is a stronger, brighter band of hope.

He reaches out, trying to take Bucky's hand. ]

[bracchium]

[Bucky is still half-turned away from Sam when his broodmate speaks and it comes off almost like an order. That denial is so strong it plugs into the programming in an instant. No, you're wrong soldier. Part of him not the programming knows his head head is all kinds of messed up right now, that the loop feeding them into each other makes all of this exponentially worse.

The same part of him knows it's Sam reaching toward him, familiar fingers--- comforting fingers--- but the programming reacts first. Bucky's fingers close around Sam's wrist, wrench his broodmate forward and then down into the dust beneath them. Before he can even blink, Sam is under him and shit.

This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was.

He can't stay. So, he steps back and then runs.]