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Entry tags:
- *hatch log,
- *mission log,
- annie westwind [original],
- asuka langley sohryu [evangelion],
- bellamy blake [the 100],
- clarke griffin [the 100],
- elena gilbert [the vampire diaries],
- elliot alderson [mr robot],
- gildor helyanwe [original],
- lexa [the 100],
- misato katsuragi [evangelion],
- noctis lucis caelum [ffxv],
- pidge gunderson (katie holt) [voltron],
- richard gecko [from dusk till dawn],
- rust cohle [true detective],
- ryohji kaji [evangelion],
- sam wilson [mcu],
- seth gecko [from dusk till dawn]
[mission: hyrypia] i am not there; i do not sleep
CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: Station 72; Hyrypia - The Graze
WHEN: DAY :019 - DAY :020
SUMMARY: Somewhere deep in the void between multiverses, a fresh clutch of Hosts hatches; down on the planet Hyrypia, a Host is laid to rest.
WARNINGS: Mentions of character death, funerary services. Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
((OOC Notes: This log covers the hatch, the arrival of new Hosts on Hyrypia, the funeral of Lavellan and the supremely awkward dinner party meant to wrap the first stage of the Pilgrimage. 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're brand new to the game. If you have any questions, please hit up either the mission's question thread, the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))
WHERE: Station 72; Hyrypia - The Graze
WHEN: DAY :019 - DAY :020
SUMMARY: Somewhere deep in the void between multiverses, a fresh clutch of Hosts hatches; down on the planet Hyrypia, a Host is laid to rest.
WARNINGS: Mentions of character death, funerary services. Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
STATION 72
DAY :019
NEW HATCHES
YOU WAKE UP and the universe with you in it is suddenly different. --No. That's not right. You're you, the universe is as it's always been, 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 coming up from the darkness of some wine dark sea. Nothing is different and yet everything is.
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. There are a handful of you here, somehow intimately familiar to each other.
Welcome to Station 72. Beyond this room it's quiet and still, feeling for all the world like a shell for some vast dark thing.
Eventually, a sensation manifests out of the black. It says:PREPARE YOURSELF
THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD is sound and sensation: a warm shaft of sunlight through smoky glass - a gauzy curtain twitching in some summer breeze. It says or feels like:( Come meet with me, won't you? )
Where exactly this meeting is supposed to occur isn't immediately clear, but head in the direction that seems correct and eventually Station 72 gets you where you're meant to be: a circular briefing room with tiered seating, empty now, before a woman with a sheet of graying hair and something focused in her expression. It's been some time since she's spoken with a young host - since she's done one of this briefings. Apparently she's feeling something like her usual self. She smiles and it's very warm.
"Welcome to Station 72. Unfortunately, you won't be here long but we'd like to answer as many of your questions as we're able before you leave this place."[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 is the most proactive distraction, but if not? Well there's plenty of places to get lost...
In the simulated morning, a strange archaic ship has arrived on the Hangar. Its very alien pilots unload two heavy trunks, then dole out a series of kits to the new hosts. One of them - the pale female alien who her calls herself Rhan - cheerfully announces, "Get changes and buckle in. I'm afraid we've some grim business ahead of us today. Funerals, you know. But chin up, my darlings. One uncomfortable day and then we'll leave the matter behind us. --Oh, but do be gentle with the others. I suspect they might be tender for a few days yet."
You leave the Station. If you're lucky, you might one day make it back.
HYRYPIA - THE GRAZE
DAY :020
THE FUNERAL PROCESSION
A SHIP DESCENDS from the iron colored sky early in the morning on Day :020. Before it even pierces the planet's atmosphere, its cargo should be obvious to the other Carbauschians: a new batch of Hosts, freshly hatched and just in time for the grim festivities.
The idea is simple: that they are part of a mourning delegation, only here to briefly oversee Lavellan's funerary rites. Luckily (...) there's plenty of comatose Hosts lying in the tents to trade places with the newcomers.
Better get to know your new friends quickly - there's plenty to be brought up to speed on (such as, uh, the recent death of one of the elder Hosts), and likely enough work to be done that the new spare hands are welcome. Or maybe the state of nothing-like-faux mourning is a good excuse for some alone time on a strange new alien planet. You're all so very, very far from home.BURIAL RITES
THE FUNERAL has been arranged to the Hosts' precise specifications. Each and every single request they've made has been met, carried out by two soft-spoken, contrite Hyrypian servants who had come to them not long after their return from the hunt. Perhaps because the members of the other envoys are unsure whether it's permitted or welcome to attend, the site of the funerary pyre is hardly full to bursting with onlookers. Or maybe the burning of corpses goes against some obscure tradition. Or maybe some of the minor envoys simply don't care much and think the Carbasuchians are best left to their grief alone. Still, while it's hardly the entire encampment in attendance a notable selection of diplomats and their respective entourages and several of their Hyrypian hosts have turned out for the ceremony. It seems the Descendants in particular have turned out in some force, including the very hunter saved by Lavellan's quick thinking.
When the time comes for the rites to proceed, it's left to the Hosts to light the fire and say their farewells to their fallen comrade - the first and hopefully last to be lost in this strange land.A SOMBER CELEBRATION
ASH SCENT HANGS HEAVY STILL over the encampment. Or maybe that's simply the perception - after all, the breeze still blows in from over the Great Flat. Surely it's just a memory of the smell which lingers, as circumstantial as the mournful note the wind sighs as it cuts across the Graze and into the tangled Finger Maze.
However, matters of the universe don't pause for the tragedy of the loss of an envoy - and there is so much riding on this Pilgrimage. To their credit, the Hyrypians have done all they can to provide for the Carbauschians in their time of grief (including a visit from the Matron Bassita herself, pale and full of sympathy and apologies), and as evening falls what clearly was meant to be a carousing party to celebrate a successful hunt and completion of the Pilgrimage's first stage has been considerably tempered.
The drinks still flow; the food is still plentiful, rich and lavishly spiced - but the music being played is soft and careful and of the hundreds of small technomanced insect lights the drift over the encampment tonight, a considerably portion of them are dedicated to lingering around the charred skeleton of the funeral pyre as a sober acknowledgement of what has come to pass.
Give it a few hours and maybe the mood will lighten slightly. On the other hand, there's nothing like an uncomfortably close tragedy to bring people together - and as Rhan suggests, maybe now's exactly the right time to ask a few pointed questions. Or to get hammered with new friends. Or to take a nice long walk while everyone else is consumed by the muted festivities.
((OOC Notes: This log covers the hatch, the arrival of new Hosts on Hyrypia, the funeral of Lavellan and the supremely awkward dinner party meant to wrap the first stage of the Pilgrimage. 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're brand new to the game. If you have any questions, please hit up either the mission's question thread, the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))
no subject
[ She answers without batting an eyelash. ]
Toughen the fuck up.
no subject
You wanna embrace all this touchy feely shit, find someone else. You've got at least four other people fresh off the boat to commune with.
[ There's five, technically, but Seth marks Richie off the list of possibilities mentally without considering it further. He doesn't want Richie buying into any of this mindsharing bullshit. They can operate down here without meshing thoughts with the rest of this group. ]
no subject
[ The sneering jeer of a bitch who could probably stand to get hit. But then she gives a big shrug. A really big one, hands lifting up towards the sky. ]
I don't give a shit.
no subject
[ A reaction, maybe. Seth suspects prodding at people who can't mask their minds appropriately is enough of a draw for anyone who's been here a while. ]
You following up on the welcoming committee?
[ Cathaway flashes into his mind, weighted and skewed with Seth's skepticism. ]
no subject
[ Very practical reasoning. ]
no subject
[ It's not an unfounded concern, as much as Seth objects to the method itself. ]
And how's the approach working out for you?
[ The underlying observation is that they clearly haven't had much success keeping from getting killed. But it's tactless to ask if the person they hoisted onto that funeral pyre was someone who got killed by someone else's stupidity, or got killed himself. ]
no subject
[ Those are sure words that exist in the english language, whether or not they have any bearing on reality is another matter entirely. ]
And you sure changed your tune quick, you're not gonna cuss me out even a little? Boring.
no subject
[ For a given definition of fine. ]
Sorry to disappoint.
[ He isn't. ]
no subject
You think you're a tough guy and that you're gonna keep doin' shit your way because it's gotten you this far, blah blah blah blah blah. You're a mouthy enough shit head you're probably not into any nice white collar work either, do you have a problem with authority unless you wanna suck the guy's dick too? Jesus christ men can be fucking boring.......
no subject
If I'm that boring, then you can take your assumptions and go find someone else more interesting to poke at.
[ The vulgarities pass, stacked up against all the other filth Seth's absorbed in his life. ]
Mark down in your little notebook that I'm not the one who's going to get anyone killed and move along, sweetheart.
no subject
[ Sometimes she wonders if she is the only one who knows how conversations work. ]
no subject
What the hell are you talking about?
[ He does need another drink. His impatience with the entire conversation isn't going to be doused by more alien firewater, but Seth can try. ]
no subject
[ She'd tried and failed, she just pushes a drink at him instead, getting quiet and looking out at the crowd of 'mourners'. ]
So what are you actually good for?
[ Since you clearly cannot banter properly..... ]
no subject
[ Which isn't exactly true anymore. Seth wishes it were, but it's been months and months since that was primarily what the Geckos were known for. Great and terrible sins, Venganza's voice reminds him and all Seth can do it take another drink. ]
What are you good for? Harassing anyone trying to drink in peace?
no subject
Definitely that. I'm paramilitary.
[ The easiest way to describe 'I was once a super powered child soldier, and now I'm an emotionally dysfunctional adult soldier who doesn't know much aside from kill and manipulate.' ]
This mission is real boring, so yeah, I harass people for fun too.
no subject
But Seth lets it pass. There's an easy way to confirm at hand, but Seth refuses to plunge into someone else's head, and proof will present itself one way or another. ]
A mission where someone fuckin' kicks it is what counts as boring to you people?
no subject
[ She's gonna be the one to win that bet, she is confident. ]
no subject
[ Seth isn't even necessarily talking about the mission. He doesn't think he's going to have fun at any point while he's here. There's an alien in his head and he's in space. Fun would have been going on a tear across the country with Richie and putting demons, culebra and bullshit destinies in the rearview. ]
But bored? Come on. Aren't we in mortal danger or some bullshit?
no subject
[ She tilts back her head fully to empty her cup into her mouth. ]
Most of the time we're walking through these boring as fuck grassy ass plains. We just made a fuckin' detour to fight a Barithian. For tradition. And honor, and whatever other shit the Rabos think is cool.
no subject
[ Seth doesn't need to know exactly what a Barithian is. Big, nasty, and alien. And presumably dead. ]
We making any progress on the actual goal while we wander around down here?
no subject
[ She starts to laugh into her hand. ]
Is there where I ask you to fuckin' case the joint for me?
[ Very serious bank robber jokes. Very serious. ]
no subject
Nice, [ He tell her, unimpressed by the laughter but also disinclined to admit that all he's been doing is sizing up the place, people included. ] Look, you come up with anything worthwhile in your surveillance?