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
Not interested.
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[ She just sounds exasperated. ]
In casual conversation? Mourning for a fuckin' elf you never met? Or this whole telepathic fuck fest life in general?
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[The whole celebration was full of grieving people, and grieving people tended to try drowning themselves in something. Drink. Sex. Her immediate physical clingyness had obviously been an attempt at the latter, and Richard wasn't interested.
Something he is interested in:]
Did you say elf?
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[ Yeah, she totally jumped people all the time, but usually she decided she liked them in some capacity first. Nyx had given her that shithead smile and told her he was good at talking shit and looking pretty. That had definitely done it for her. November had started flirting back with her. She has some base levels, jesus. ]
And yeah I said elf, do you want to actually hear about it or should I leave you over here to angst in the fucking corner by yourself?
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There was a hunt, in a maze, and now he's dead. Heard all about it already.
[Newbie, she'd called him. Fresh meat. Stumbling around, getting lost. But that wasn't Richard. He didn't know something, he got on top of it, fast.]
So what are you gonna tell me, him being a Lord of the Rings extra means something to what we're stuck with now?
[Elves. It's ridiculous, and hilarious, but so were vampires and aliens. Not that that was going to stop Richard from judging.]
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[ She squawks, loud, incensed. Well, not... really... that mad... she just takes the path of least resistance in most things she says whether they're useful things to say or not. It may or may not have been noted by several others that she tends to speak without thinking. Something she's fine with. She's capable of doing it the other way around too, but she's got no particular compunction for that at the moment. ]
We've had like five different fucking elves on this crew, jesus fucking christ.
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[Though he's already getting the impression that pointing out how she makes things sound isn't going to have any impact on her. The brain to mouth filter had been busted for a while on this one. And people thought he and his brother cussed a lot.]
They [he points through the crowd, direct, aimed at one larger cluster of Rabadoceans] all think we're extremely fucking shy versions of them. Which means only thing that matters about him now is how he died during their ritual. [On one side of the job. On the other:] Unless everyone in this crew is keeping a vacuum tight lid on it being an internal fuck up.
[There are audible speech marks around him saying crew. He'd like to believe it, from what he's been told they're down here to do, but he hasn't seen any signs of it yet. It wouldn't be the first time he and his brother were the only professionals in the game.]
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Okay. There is so much that is annoying about what just came out of your face. [ You're one to talk Annie. ] First, we have not let the cat out of the bag. This is the best I've seen these stupid fucks work together, I've only had to break up like one cat-fight the whole time. Second, you are wrong, that is not the only thing that matters. It definitely fuckin' matters who he died protecting. The Descendants clearly feel indebted to us, which is great because I think they're just about ruled out as our evil space fuckers, and they might be useful later. Third, don't be such a fucking know it all you, just got here you little shit.
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Useful. [He concedes, to the one bit of good information she'd sandwiched in there about the Descendants.] But not as useful as us being the only ones who've suffered sacrifice. This is a pilgrimage. We're walking the footsteps of their sacred forebear. Blood is tribute.
[Clipped, matter-of-fact despite the subject matter. The Seconds may not be the Nine Lords, but Richard had been living this shit since he died.
More pointed:]
And I'll take your word on them working well together when I've seen you working.
[And not whatever the hell it was she was doing now. Getting drunk and talking shit. Wasting this opportunity.]
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[ She's too busy drinking to make any of the exasperated hang gestures she might otherwise be making. ]
And I didn't say we worked well together. I said this was the best we'd done so far. That does not necessarily imply we're any fuckin' good at it.
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If you don't have anything else worthwhile to offer, [he indicates the crowd with a hand held flat.] I'd like to get back to what I was doing. [A little tip of his head, adding:] Undisturbed.
no subject
Carry on, shitbag.