[mission: hyrypia] give me my scallop shell of quiet, my staff of faith to walk upon

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
WHERE: Hyrypia - The Graze
WHEN: DAY :013
SUMMARY: A day of competition begins, and Hosts put their newfound skills to the test.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

THE GRAZE
DAY :013

A MOURNFUL SOUND passes across the Graze in the early hours of the morning: the mingling drone of the wind coming up across the flatlands and funneling into the depths of the Finger Maze. It saws, a tired, hollow constant noise. Carried with it up through the Great Flat are maybe forty visitors carried by a variety of carts and wagons, automated and incredibly austentatious live mounts. Apparently the events of the day are drawing a crowd from the surrounding farms and homesteads on top of the various diplomatic envoys already in attendance.

After a brisk, light breakfast the short blare of a horn cuts across the encampment. It seems it's time to saddle up.



I. THE SIDELINES
A CHEER SWELLS up from the assemblage of Rabadoceans as a team successfully completes their event. On a nearby platform, musicians takes turns striking up a series of fast paced, sparkling tunes and the tang of roasting meat is heavy in the air. There's a sense of festival in this that quickly becomes lively as the Hyrypians' official pleasantries cede encourage the Meradan's cheerful, competitive shouting and the Descendants'' entertained clapping and smiling. There might even be a few smiles to be seen among the typically grim faced Carpathan diplomatic envoy.

Get something to eat. Talk to a stranger. Make friends. Sabotage a competing team. Most importantly: keep your eyes and ears open. For every moment you might spend machinating, someone (or something) else might be doing the same.

II. THE SORTING
THE SUN HAS FULLY RISEN by the time the first event is ready to begin. There has been a constant bustle up until this point, people meeting up and splitting off again, members of Envoy’s checking in with each other, carefully discussing their strategies- or laughing the challenges off as a game. Now, all of the competitors are gathered together to be given their tools- the ropes and crooks of the Gryer wranglers- even as the spectators begin to gather at the edges of the large pen, some standing at the fences, other on long staggered benches along the edges. There are a flags strung up all along the fences and large banners fly from the outermost posts of the pen. When it is nearly time the teams are split- each of the members led to a different point on the outside of the pen, to the gates that will set them loose upon the false gryer within.

When it is time for the Hosts to begin, the gates are again reset, the Gryer are all released from their holding pens, and the spectators have become no less raucous. They’re so loud it’s almost hard to hear the horn that calls from the holding pen, but the gates that spring open in front of the hosts are signal enough for them to begin. They are afforded just enough time to make their way fully into the pen before the three Gryer are lit, scattered through the herd and still milling about. The clock- or whatever passes for a clock- is ticking, and the faster they manage the task- if they manage it- the better.

When it is over, the crowd cheers, either way- energized by the competition and the strong grassy flavored drink that seems to improve every Rabadocean’s mood.

III. THE MESSENGER RACE
A SERIES OF FLAGS marks the route of the relay race that runs along the edge of the outermost cliff faces - not that it's necessary. Spectators are strung along the sidelines that it might be possible to run the race using only them as a guide for where to go. The course itself is studded with obstacles - logs and ditches, stacks of brush and at least a few imposing walls made from coral harvested out of the Finger Maze. The riders of each team are dispersed along the length of the course toward the finish line, quiet and lonely (if you disregard the forty or so other riders from competing teams in your company) and waiting in the midday heat for--

The short burst of a horn. The first string of Elin and riders, each in possession of a ceremonial scroll, launch forward across the starting line. Hopefully. What would be even better? If they keep all their riders in the process.

IV. THE ELINMASTER RUN
THE FINAL EVENT comes late - so late that the sun is already beginning to move towards the high horizon of the clifftops, leaving a cool purple cast across the landscape as the competitors and spectators alike are gathered at the yawning entrance of the isolated splinter of the Finger Maze. Unlike the other events, there is no seating, no rows, no stretches of banners or strings of flags. The environment doesn’t allow for it. Instead there are ropes separating the milling crowds from the riders. There are no gates and no strict starting point; rather, there is an area the width of the entrance and forty feet behind it that the racers may begin from. A large number are clustered near the very front - eager but clearly at extra risk, the metal and rubber flesh of the Elin automatons pressed close enough to crush. In the stillness of the near-evening air, the anticipation for this event is more subdued. More hushed. It's clear that the majority of the race will not be visible to spectators or judges. There will be only a small party waiting at the end of the course, ready in the clearing to mark places, and no witnesses before that.

The most senior members of House Basittia stand on either side of the entrance, protected by the ropes and flashy in their officiator-wear. When the horn is blown, sharp and with very little warning, it echoes down the length of the waiting canyon walls. It echoes strangely, broken only by the sound of metal hooves pounding forward into the maze and out of sight.

The first challenge is immediate - beyond the wide entrance the canyon begins to narrow dramatically. Those who have chosen the front of the pack will be forced to either get ahead or muscle their way through the others around them. Those that have chosen to stay further back will find that the distance between them and the next rider ahead of them narrows. Before there is much chance to adjust to the new positions, there is the first obstacle - a ditch, narrow but sudden, ready to take the legs out from under an Elin that fails to jump. From there the course begins in earnest. A number of paths split off from the main line, each with their own challenges. Coral branches fallen in the path, others arching just over rider’s heads. The course is full of switchbacks and sudden turns and in places the ground is made of pebbles that slide beneath the metallic hooves of the mechanical beasts. The course narrows in sections, barely wide enough to allow one rider to pass, and as the race stretches on fewer and fewer are able to continue. Some riders simply fall, others are knocked off, others foul their mounts and end up as new obstacles for those behind them.

By the time the end is in sight - a large open clearing, the far end of which has a simple stage where the judges wait - many racers have been unseated and countless others have simply fallen behind. But for those who make it to the end, there is a note in an ancient looking tome and a ribbon to be tied around their wrists to show that they have completed their trial. They will linger there in the winner’s circle until the last of the racers trickle in. Once that happens, they will be allowed at a much more sedate pace to make their way out of the canyon and into the awaiting cheering crowd - into the beginning of night and the lighting of the great braziers and flames, the scent of a well-earned meal that awaits them carried across the Graze by the mournful sigh of the wind.

V. BEFORE, AFTER, AND BETWEEN
THE COMPETITION stretches long, each individual challenge met by scores of Envoys eager to impress or simply eager for something to entertain themselves with. But the day is made far longer by the time between the competitions which is filled with talk, general chatter, and some good- and less good-natured betting - all lubricated by a constant stream of the cool grass drink that’s growing rapidly more popular as the sun’s heat increases. There's plenty to do- and plenty to enjoy between the events themselves. People will have little trouble finding things to keep busy with. And after the competition is said and done there is dinner (of course), the great dining tents pulled open and even more crowded than before with the additional local color. It’s those locals, and perhaps the camaraderie born of shared experience, which seems to help encourage some of the Envoys to intermingle more than they have before.

Of course, not everyone is in a good mood. Some of the participants didn't perform as well as others. Bruised egos are as abundant as bruised bodies among some envoys... a potentially volatile situation considering the close quarters they share with other Rabadoceans who clearly think very highly of their own performances.

---

((OOC Notes: This log covers the competition events of Day :013 and any related sideline activities. You can find a full breakdown of the events/a place for mini-event specific questions HERE. Sign-ups will remain open until the next event log goes live, however going forward please make sure to either join the individual event or have a full team selected for the team events. Please be aware that signing up late won't give you extra time to finish your thread to qualify for the finale event.

Have more generalized questions? Drop them on the MISSION: HYRYPIA OOC POST or get in touch with us on the Mod Contact page.))

NAVIGATION • GAME CALENDAR • MISSION: HYRYPIA • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[adamance]

( Consider the context of everything. Any information about this pilgrimage was removed to ensure that we would know nothing. Many histories clarifying things were ripped away. We were forced to walk into this blind.

In Concordia, the Enemy found someone who could engineer exactly what they needed to succeed. Here, I fail to see how such an isolationist society would be anything but their focus. )

[Perhaps it's simplifying matters. Perhaps there are those among each faction who don't care about how they're being led, blind with blind, but she doubts the Enemy would risk being so uncertain.

They are always one step ahead. That is one thing she's learned from Cathaway.

Why wouldn't they be this time?]

[wille]

[ Misato crosses her arms, tightly, her expression under her hood is one of deep consternation that bleeds even through their link. The tension in one brows when one squints against the onslaught of too much light.

Someone else might call it idiotic or primitive, but she trusts in her instinct that something feels off about believing in the idea fully. The delegates are glorified foot soldiers at best and leading them to their deaths would only be the start of a unified war, this time the entire galaxy against the Hyrypians, who may boast the juice that their war toys run on, but have few toys of their own. Self-destruction doesn't seem a likely motive for the Enemy, but is it? Is it?

Anything is possible. ]

( Tell me again what the Enemy wanted in Concordia. )

[adamance]

( To prevent the point of singularity, something that my people already achieved. ) [Which may be surprising if anyone knows Lexa. Misato is free to ask, but she doesn't explain. There's no reason for now.] ( They ensured that the best agents to accomplish it were left with supplies to carry out terrorist actions and create tension.

However, before you ask, we never figured out why they were so opposed to the creation of artificial life. )

[Lexa had some suspicions, but at the time, much of her perspective on the matter had proved to be skewed. Falling into a coma at the end of the mission hadn't helped, as she hadn't been able to lead interrogations into the question of "why."

Then again, there's no certainty that they would have known.]

( They were merely benefactors promoting a cause. It's possible that they had no reason to care for stopping the singularity point. ) [And merely wished to acquire some loyalty. It's hard to say. Either way, they weren't active individuals.]

[wille]

[ It is all according to the brief on Concordia that she was shown, the outline of the anti-synthesis movement, the mission being to return the society back on track to singularity, for good or for ill. Neither this nor Lexa's revelation surprise her, when she comes from a city governed by supercomputers and commands a fleet of biomechanical weapons infused with human souls. But like any other person in power found guilty of heinous crimes against humanity, she had told herself, again and again, that it was necessary. It had to be done.

She grips her gloved hands into fists, and releases them with an amused huff. This is what resignation sounds like. ]

( This is just a guess. A wild one, even. But if the enemy is our nemesis and our antithesis, then it follows that they would want the exact opposite of what we want. Not singularity. Not this, whatever it is that's happening inside our heads. )

[ It also follows then that the Enemy could be their ally depending on their stance with regard to the symbiote. The thought burrows itself into her head like an itch she can't scratch. ]

( In my experience, our worst enemies tend to be the ones most similar to us. Humans against humans. Symbiote against what? It would make sense, given the warnings we've got, but it's not a nice thought, is it? )

[adamance]

( The symbiotes are nothing like singularity, Misato. )

[The answer itself is brief and direct. It comes from a place of certainty. Lexa wants that to be clear before they proceed. She recalls Sam Anders and his approach to Concordia, as well as his desperation to make things better there. She recalls her own efforts to help the people there see that there was no difference between artificial intelligence and the human mind once they merged; she was living proof of it.]

( Our Enemy isn't against us. We are against them. We are a pest, a thorn in their side, and nothing more. Remember that. )

[wille]

( The essence is the same. )

[ To trade individuality, whatever makes one oneself, for the sake of greatness and immortality. That Faustian bargain. It harks back to the same fears and deep-seated longings. Only the form differs. ]

( And what you're saying doesn't change what I mean. It's silly to think we're on the right side just cause it's where we happen to stand, and it's just as silly to commit to a theory just to have something to commit to. )

[ It's unfair, she knows, to be so sharp-tongued when the irritation she feels has little to do with the other woman and more to do with the frustration of not knowing, still, which side to fight for and so, how to win the war. The indecision cripples her, and she is both repulsed and tempted by Lexa's proposal of choosing one way for the sake of direction. She sees her own obstinacy reflected and despises her reflection. ]

[adamance]

( Sides don't matter. My people were threatened by the Enemy, and therefore, they are my Enemy. An artifact was ripped away so that I could be saved. We're on the right side because we should be looking out for ourselves, and our people. In the end, that's what matters most.

I'm committing to my theory because it's what I believe. I'm being decisive because it's a path I'm willing to strike out upon. Don't confuse my actions for a naive desire to move in a direction. You said you would support my actions. Support them, or take back your words. )

[To her, it seems that Misato wants to find a lack of logic in what Lexa sees within their situation. It's not a matter of going forward blindly. It's a matter of using what information is available and following that path. If it proves to be wrong, then she will adjust. They can adjust. As a leader, she can't sit and worry over whether one decision will cost them the next five decisions. She has to make one, and hope it's for the best.

That is how she's grown into this role, and how she's managed.]

[wille]

[ Those words could have come out of her own lips, once upon a time. For me or against me. This gauntlet thrown to the ground to neatly divide the world into enemies or allies. It isn't so simple anymore. ]

( Save your ultimatum for when it matters. )

[ To force Misato into a corner was to see her raise the stakes, but she is as adaptable as she is inflexible in her convictions, and she will change if that is what it takes to keep on. She inhales slowly and sighs, the weight on her shoulders translating to the anchors she attaches to each one of her words. ]

( Lexa, whatever you need me to do, tell me and I'll help you. My word stands. But friends tell each other when they disagree, right? I think it's not enough to fight for our own survival when we don't understand what that costs. It isn't enough to say "I just want to live" when we're wreaking havoc across galaxies. I used to think so, but it's not right.

So. I won't stop you from choosing the path you've chosen, and I'll take my time before I decide. )

[adamance]

["Friend" is a word that Lexa tends to use in exchange for the word "ally." To her, they are one and the same. She's unused to having friends, too aware of the potential of that going sideways. It did with Gustus. It did with Titus. She knows there were times when Indra wished to act against her, but didn't.

In that, Misato's argument is both solid but flimsy. At the same time, Lexa knows that it's her own perspective that makes it true. She can't criticize the other woman simply because of her own experiences. They are unique to her, and they began the day Costia died. (They should have began sooner.)]

( Then consider the bigger picture before you decide. No matter what, the Hyrypians hold this Nectar within their control. My goal is to eliminate the need for the Seconds, whether it's through eliminating them or through making it impossible for more of them to be born or made. I don't know which it is, and I'd prefer to know before we act.

We need information. Right now, I believe we can agree that the Hyrypians are powerful, and holding the most agency. The reason why extends back to their Seconds. I've asked Pidge and Aloy to look into them, but they may need a helping hand. )

[This is where Misato could step in, if she so chooses. Or she could say that Lexa is being too deliberate about this.]

[wille]

[ Lexa's wording is clear enough. Here is where the help may be needed, and she slips herself into the slot readily, coupled with a few slow nods. ]

( We can agree on focusing our information-finding on the Hyrypians. I'll find out what I can, and tell you whatever I learn. )

[ As for the question of Pidge and Aloy, well, she can only blame her own misguided, misdirected attempt at righting her past wrongs by deliberately seeking to keep the innocents well away from danger. It's futile, she knows, but futility is only a suggestion by her books. ]

( Meanwhile, these trials. Should we win them, and earn cookie points from the Hyrypians, or lose them to stay under the radar? What do you think? )

[adamance]

( We win. Our original objective was to build an alliance with one of these groups. If my suspicions are correct, we may need one of these envoys to aid in destroying the Seconds. I don't know that we'd be capable of it on our own. Seeming strong to both these groups and the Hyrypians can only prolong our involvement, especially if this all proves to be a trap. )

[They will think twice when they see that this particular envoy is strong. It's a way of thinking based entirely on Lexa's upbringing, but she does think it's not entirely off the mark here.]

[wille]

( Okay. Playing to my strengths is easier than feigning weakness anyway. )

[ It would be against her nature, more difficult to fight than simple lack of skill. Bluffing comes easily. Playing dead takes another sort of person. ]

( So I'll keep you in the loop. I expect the same from you. )

[adamance]

( What do you think I've been doing this conversation? )

[The only matter now is waiting for information to come back in her direction.]

[wille]

[ If narrowed eyes and an exaggerated frown can be transferred through thought alone, this is how it would feel like. ]

( Soliciting my help. )

[ She is under no illusions that Lexa has been telling her what she needs to know to agree to the plan, leaving out unnecessary details that muddle up the narrative, unconsciously or with full intent. This she doesn't hold against her. It's what anyone would do, it's what she would do in her place. Anyway-- anyway, she starts taking her leave with one step forward. ]

( Well, we'll see how we go from here. Talk to you soon. )