[mission: hyrypia] hey kid wanna see a dead body

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
WHERE: The Second Flight
WHEN: DAY :021 - DAY :022
SUMMARY: Leaving the Graze and flying over the Finger Maze. [insert Psycho music cue here]
WARNINGS: Corpses. Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

HYRYPIA - THE SECOND FLIGHT
DAY :021

I. ALLLL ABOARD
THE SOUND OF HORNS has become familiar in your time on Hyrypia, but the low drone seems out of place here in the great open space of the main hall of the Second’s Flight. The space here is fantastically and beautifully ornate, the pale polished wood floors and rich dark paneling strangely reminiscent of sand and stone, loamy earth and some rich, dense forest not native to the arid lands of this planet. The space seems to dare the sky to claim it, acting out some daring violation of delivering the earth into the heavens. The twin heads of House Tyrisson are equally lavish both in their appearance and welcome. Two brothers, draped in elaborate pastel fabrics and glinting with enough metal accents to put the ornate robes of Seconds to shame, they trade a short speech back and forth between them:

"Once, our ancestors would have travelled the depths and turns of the Finger Maze in an effort to follow the footsteps of the First. Luckily, we don't live in such dangerous times; the gifts of the First and this planet we call home have allowed us to grow up out of our desperation. Consider this comfort our gift to you and enjoy your time on the Second Flight."

A band strikes up the moment the Tyrisson twins take their seats and you are left to your own devices. So much for living simply.

II. A MURDER MOST FOUL
A SCREAM PIERCES THE SILENCE of the saunas. The low sound of gently flowing water and the soft piped music seems to fade to nothing in the wake of the raw, terrified noise. Unsurprisingly, it draws immediate attention as a horrified Descendant practically falls into the arms of the servant that comes to his aid. The outburst is easily forgiven as word travels like lightning through the ship.

There has been a murder - or rather, two murders. Two bodies, damp with humidity and beginning to give of a distinctly unpleasant smell, have been found in one of the hot bath grottos. The mineral water they've been soaking in has reverted from a milky white to a terrible, blood rust brown.

And while it's unlikely that any Carbauschians were sharing the pool with them (robes make for unpleasant waders), the dryer albeit stiflingly hot areas of the conjoined saunas are such a communal meeting places that it wouldn't be out of the realm of imagination that one or two Hosts might be nearby… Regardless, news travels quickly and the chilly atmosphere that descends over the Second Flight is palpable. A horrific hunting accident is one thing, but murder? That's something else altogether.


HYRYPIA - THE SECOND FLIGHT
DAY :022

III. A SORDID AFFAIR
TO SAY that the atmosphere is somewhat tense is an understatement. It seems that everyone has something to say about the murders- but these things are said tersely, in whispers under the breath, with darting eyes and suspicious glances, and security- once hidden, secret- is now easily visible. They can be found at the entrance of each of the broad areas, patrolling down the paths that run alongside the outer walls of the Envoy’s cabins- never intruding, but ever present. Still, there seems to be an insistence that it will be dealt with by a member of the Tyrisson protectorate guard - Detective Savela, a hard-nosed, serious woman who seems not to want any assistance - and that the guests should continue to enjoy themselves. The bands still play, the games are ever present. Of course, those that are enterprising may wish to try poking around, instead.

IV. THE SHOW MUST GO ON
MURDER SCHMURDER-- In what's very clearly an effort to retain some sense of normalcy, an elaborate meal is served late on Day :022. The dishes are so complex that might as well be show pieces of their own, the music has an air of desperation, and the display of technomancy from a pair of Seconds is so delicate and ornate - centering almost entirely on a cloud of small metal coins that shifts shape constantly to illustrate scenes from the famous epic poem The Arion throughout the course of the dinner - that under any other circumstances it might be a singularly memorable moment.

Unfortunately, the palpable sense of suspicion between the envoy factions persists and the temper of the room is anything but celebratory. Late in the evening when most people have retired from the stifling atmosphere, a scuffle breaks out between some Meradan bodyguards and a clutch of Carpathan servants.


HYRYPIA - THE SECOND’S FLIGHT
DAY :023

V. A FAREWELL TO ARMS
THE ENGINES ever-present hum ticking down an octave is the first sign that the Flight has almost reached its destination. By the time the servants are politely knocking on the entrances of the berthings, the new dawn reveals that the cliffs and the winding passages of the Finger Maze have finally fallen behind the ship. The land here consists of rocky, relatively bare hills and is accented only with occasional short, sparse woody tree and straggly clumps of red grass. From somewhere in the distance, salt touches the wind. The Second Flight lands, setting gently down into the trough between two hills. Its now familiar gangplank extends, ready to send the Pilgrims again out onto the road.

---

((OOC Notes: This log covers days :021 and :022 on the Second Flight. A log will be posted for the walk on DAY :023 and the arrival at the Red Coast. Please be sure to review the MISSION: HYRYPIA ooc information to find setting information for the Second Flight. If you have any questions, please hit up either the mission's question thread, the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))

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

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

wrooong kind of hangar

[sistershoggoth]

The school I was raised in. All girls, kind of a military academy. Sort of.

[ They were raised to be militant, just not for any particular military so much as one egomaniac alien's interests in seeing how tough she could raise her human guinea pigs to be. ]

What, you think I just came out this good all on my own?

[ Substitute good with 'dysfunctional'. ]

hangs some planes in the closet

[raw]

[ This good. Elliot isn't sure if she's joking, gives her a nervous wry look. ]

Everyone has something.

[ Something in their family or in their past or their weird ass universe or just their genetic code. Elliot does like to know, though, to slowly ease apart that puzzle box. In a very different life he might have pursued psychology. ]

So you grew up in a boarding school?

blast u homophones!!!

[sistershoggoth]

Sort of.

[ There's a lot of strange little qualifications to the tale of Cartazonos Academy. There was the appearance of what it was, what it feigned to be, and then there was the truth. Much like Annie herself. ]

It was actually this alien shithead's science experiment to see how bad we bitches could be.

[raw]

[ Curiouser and curiouser. Elliot can't deny that just makes him more interested. ]

So this isn't your first time experience with aliens, either.

[sistershoggoth]

Unfortunately. I got some skills that're made for this shit, but that's -- yanno -- my fuckin' problem.

[ Candid, self-aware. ]

Was trying to be an actual person for a while, with like my own fuckin' goals and possibilities, and now I'm just an alien asshole's foot soldier again.

[ Drunk, she pauses in the hallway, keeping herself steady against the wall with a sigh. This is definitely one of several reasons why she drinks. ]

[raw]

That's a depressing perspective.

[ A slight wryness to his usual flat monotone. ]

Do you really think that's all we are? Foot soldiers.

[sistershoggoth]

That is absolutely what I think.

[ Her face is covered by the hood, but the tongue click of 'yup, sport, that's the way it is' comes through just fine. ]

[raw]

[ Elliot huffs through his nose, but it's not laughter. ]

It feels like there's more to it than that. We're joining an existing fight, but we're linked by the Hosts — it's called a symbiote for a reason. Something mutually beneficial.

[sistershoggoth]

Ants got soldiers, and they got a hive. If we were important, you think we'd be out here: primed to get stepped on?

[ She wants to driiiink until she stops thinking about it, and it all rolls in her head, macro and micro contemplations in a sickly kaleidoscope of color. ]

We're not even fucking organs in this machine. We're just fuckin' sensory receptacles to the big brain, it's just using us as eyes and ears. If we behave real good and learn how listen to its fuckin' voice without our stupid little heads exploding, maybe it'll start whispering and then we'd be like a fuckin' percentage point important...

[ She's pretty sure she's going to puke. ]

Fucking... telepathic... garbage... mother fucker... Ugh....

[raw]

[ They're close enough to somewhere relatively private and ventilated by now — Elliot takes her hand and tugs before she can have an entire goddamn meltdown. There's a little container of water he stole from the springs with a cigarette butt already floating in it.

So this is his response: hood off, his short mohawk having reverted to his natural curls since he went swimming. Lighting two cigarettes at once, passing one to her. The roiling distress is too much for him in this close proximity, and at this point this is all he knows to do. ]