onemind: (Default)
THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] station722017-12-03 05:40 pm

[hatch log] i had a dream which was not all a dream

CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: Station 72; Hyrypia - The Red Coast
WHEN: DAY :025 - DAY :026
SUMMARY: Somewhere deep in the void between multiverses, a fresh clutch of Hosts hatches; getting them down to Hyrypia proves to be more complicated than usual.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!





STATION 72
DAY :025

NEW HATCHES

YOU WAKE UP and the universe and you in it are 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. But 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. Some of these emotions might be 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 others very like you here, all of them somehow intimately familiar.

Welcome to Station 72. Beyond this room, the vast Station is quiet and still. It feels for all the world like a shell for some vast dark thing.

Eventually, a sensation manifests out of the hollowness:



PREPARE YOURSELF

THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD is sound and sensation: a brilliantly warm shaft of sunlight through smoky glass - a gauzy curtain twitching in some summer breeze - the blooming pleasure of a familiar face after a very long time away. 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 small grassy lawn in the center of the lush, circular gardens where an aging woman waits on a stone bench. The pin straight sheet of her hair hangs like a graying curtain and the sensation from her is lovely and golden, real delight pouring through her like light through a pinhole camera. She smiles and sets aside the book in her lap.

"There you are. 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."



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 other than the people you woke up with there's a distinct lack of company 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? Otherwise-- well there's plenty of places to get lost...

By the simulated morning, a strange archaic ship has arrived on the Hangar. Its very alien pilots are in the process of unloading-- bodies. No, scratch that, they're clearly still alive, though in some kind of comatose state. One of the pilots - a pale female alien who calls herself Rhan - says, "Well, this is awkward. We were supposed to be done with this already. Uh don't mind us, darling. We'll finish up here and get on our way. In the meantime, why don't you go through your packs and get changed?"

She nods toward two trunks on the hangar deck where assortment of pre-prepared packs are waiting for each new Host. In each pack is a series of items, including a set of beautiful and very all-encompassing robes. Better get comfortable. Not hot on the fabrics or patterns in your pack? Mixing and matching with your new best friends is totally acceptable.

Eventually, you leave the Station. If you're lucky, you might one day make it back.


HYRYPIA - THE RED COAST
LATE DAY :026

A PURPOSEFULLY SUBTLE WELCOME

UNDER THE COVER OF DARKNESS, Collector and Lyr make their way through the barracks where the Hosts on Hyrypia are meant to be sleeping. It's nearing whatever the Hyrypian equivalent of midnight is; if you're awake, all the better. If not? Expect to be roused (gently and silently by Collector, rudely and abruptly by Lyr).

"Get dressed. We're going for a walk."

There's nothing quite so suspicious as bringing a bunch of reinforcements to the planet in the aftermath of a rather public murder, which means a highly ritualized midnight procession of Carbasuchians into the highlands. It's easier to secret a handful of newbies in an anonymous group, right?

That meeting in the dead of night in the rocky wilderness above the Red Coast bears even a passing resemblance to the strange occurrence on DAY :010 is probably just a coincidence. Besides, there aren't any mystery circles burned into the stone and grass here: just a stealth ship materializing out of the black night and touching down in a stony outcropping where it disgorges the freshly hatched (or newly reawakened) Hosts.







((OOC Notes: This log covers the hatch on Day :025 as well as the arrival of new Hosts on Hyrypia late on Day :026. Feel free to make your own logs and posts additional to this if you care to. You can find additional information pertaining to the Red Coast on the previous mission log (located here); newbies are welcome to utilize that log as well as it occurs within the same time period as the hatch.

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!))





greentech: (For your consideration)

[personal profile] greentech 2017-12-28 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
Mostly made a lot of noise and acted lost and drunk and belligerent. It worked out pretty well, huh?

[ She shoots Darlene a grin. ]

...I should catch up with him again sometime soon.
shiro2hero: (where's the 80's music playing at)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-12-28 05:54 am (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't ... mean to. He tries to hold it back. But the laugh that bubbles out of his throat is more incredulous than mocking. The little flare of emotion from him shows as much. You'll get hurt - you can't take much more.]

[It's... the opposite of literally everything he's ever expected to be. Expected of himself.]


Don't worry. [Sincere as before. Don't worry about me, and no one should and none of you deserve that.] I'm hardier than I look.
incinerates: ID 13036614 @ PIXIV (Default)

[personal profile] incinerates 2017-12-28 06:07 am (UTC)(link)
Did I stutter?

[ "Don't worry", he's not worried. He's not the type to worry much about others, especially those he's just met. It's just -- Shiro has a cool lion, that's his partner. And part of Bakugo ( just a small, childish part of him, honest ) wants to see more of it. Someday. He's not eager or anything, it just reminds him of television shows he used to watch back home, toy lines he used to collect, kid's meals he'd begged his mother to buy him - because he needed to have all of the limited edition parts of the whole. ]

Man, I could break you in half.

[ PHYSICALLY. ]
redheadcarrier: (Darkness)

( for kaji )

[personal profile] redheadcarrier 2017-12-28 06:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ Asuka doesn't know what to say to him anymore. The illusion of him being anything close to a parental figure is long gone by now. So is her idea that she might be able to find adulthood - validation - in his arms. She knows that it's a foolish thought. A child's thought. But it still tugs at her. The ache of raw emotion is still there. His "death" wasn't all that long ago to her memory. Even with him around, the childish delusions of love and romance and the ache of that loss have mingled into something that probably isn't good for her.

She holds onto it, though. Even if she sees less of him. Even if she knows that he's gone back to Misato and that once again, someone she thinks (highly) of has left her for another. It's difficult to trace the line of her own emotions and introspection has never been her strong suit. She has others to lean on now, healthier ways to find outlets, but the siren call of the familiar is always there. It'd be easy to slip back into that role where she chases him. Where she tries to find something (anything) in his words and actions that will tell her that she's worthwhile. That she's valid.

That she's loved.

So she follows him one day. They're in this strangely peaceful seaside town, even with the blood red sea to remind her of her own failings and the end of the world. She tries to shut it out and focuses on following in his footsteps, trying to think of what she's going to say to him. Of what she can say, now that he's locked back in his world of adulthood and she's seemingly still trying to find a way to it that won't leave her gasping and drowning, like a fish out of water.

She is not the most subtle tail and he probably knows that she's there long before they set foot on the beach. But she continues anyway, as if she hasn't been seen and as if this is some sort of surprise. So she pretends as she follows his footsteps down the sand and when he actually glances back she "allows" herself to be seen and she darts forward, robes fluttering behind her as he tries to catch-up.
]

Kaji-!

[ As if this is chance. She's falling into old habits.

She hates herself a little more for it.
]

I haven't been able to talk to you in forever! [ As if they're friends. ]
Edited 2017-12-28 06:11 (UTC)
theycalledmeacurse: (you mean)

[personal profile] theycalledmeacurse 2017-12-28 06:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ People always have tells, little things about their actions and ways of moving that give them away, whether it be for hiding secrets or injury. Even if those hints hadn't been floating through the Nest's connection, she would have put the pieces together before long. That ache ghosting over the connection just sped up the process. ]

Why's it such a bother for you, sugar? [ She crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side, the appearance one of curiosity rather than confrontation. The cyclops keeps pulling at the edge of her mind, tugging at memories of someone else who had taken up that moniker, but unlike this man, Scott had worn it proudly. He'd begrudgingly accepted the cards he'd been dealt and made the most of his situation.

She only hopes she's able to do such with the same grace her former teacher had shown. ]
theycalledmeacurse: (you mean)

[personal profile] theycalledmeacurse 2017-12-28 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ She's always been the one standing in someone else's corner, offering support and listening to all their problems. A lifetime of trying not to be a burden and being burned by those closest has taken a toll that won't easily be undone. If Sam can prove it, though... she won't mind him doing it.

So her estimation of their motley crew was correct, then. All of them with crazy lives left behind, and even crazier ones ahead. It's kind of comforting, actually, and she gives a shrug while wearing an amused smile that can be felt if not seen. ]


We didn't have Norse gods or aliens, but there were more than enough superheroes to go around. And supervillains, and your Average Superpowered Joe.
theycalledmeacurse: (pause)

[personal profile] theycalledmeacurse 2017-12-28 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ Rogue misses being in a kitchen, the methodical comfort of chopping ingredients, selecting the proper pans, the popping oil and wafting scents. She misses being able to create something others find joy in, and she honestly can't remember the last time she'd held a skillet in her hand. It had been over a fire, no doubt - during the war, when cities had begun to fall and already they could see the world ending around them. ]

It was called Earth. I think there are others here from different versions of it.

[ But none so far from her version. No friends, allies, or enemies to be found emerging from her past. It's a good thing, considering the way everything had turned out, and yet... she still longs for at least one. One fellow survivor, one single person who will understand what it's like to fight a losing war, who knows the pain of watching your world die. ]
shiro2hero: (that is the whitest thing ive ever seen)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-12-28 08:34 am (UTC)(link)
[It prompts another laugh from him. Same as the last. Man, he's barely met this kid and already he's being told he's not enough. But, oddly, there's no irritation in him. Not from this. Maybe he's just too tired right now, too wrung-out from this mission and the toll it's taken on them all.]

[Or maybe it's because, this is very much a teenager. The kind of mind he's used to, more than others.]


A lot of things could. And they've tried, too. Like I said... tougher than I look.

[The low rumbling sensation at the back of his mind, the voiceless support of the thing in his head, taking the familiar shape, the familiar sensation, of that ancient well of power. Mimicking the Lion in his head.]
somnifacient: (44)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-12-28 04:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[He's quiet for a moment, turning through the files of his own memories. What she says, in some ways, continues to ring familiar for Noctis.]

What kind of power did he have, that made him crazy? How did he end up that way?

[Questions indicative of Noctis perhaps wanting to understand, simply because he sees a parallel somewhere.]
erbier: (pic#11429606)

[personal profile] erbier 2017-12-28 05:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Fire.

[ Or, perhaps, was the word chaos? It echoes in the psychic landscape between them, unspoken. She and Sevilia have spoken of the idea, once or twice, the similarities between the thing that possessed the Godking and the scourge that Sevilia had fought.]

The tale goes, that in the age of his birth he was heralded as a gift to magic. So innately talented. He was raised like a prince, with all the best tutors and privileges. But he outgrew them, and he killed them. As he burned more and more, there was no one to challenge him.

[ A slow, thoughtful pause, has she answered his question? ]

He swelters inside. His own flames consume him.
Edited 2017-12-28 17:32 (UTC)
stilettoes: ➝ sᴛɪʟᴇᴛᴛᴏᴇs (x.)

[personal profile] stilettoes 2017-12-28 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Concordia. I've never heard of it, but it seems to have served you well. [ tasting the name of it on his tongue, no. definitely nothing he's ever heard even in passing and he's been far out. it's soft, the impression of flicking through a book, carding through pages of places he's seen great and small, but none by the name. it makes him wonder just how far out they are exactly, just where hyrypia is, where the station lies, and does brahma breathe somewhere nearby.

he smiles. ]
Have you traveled elsewhere with the station? You aren't like the others that arrived - most of them are rather noisy.
erbier: (pic#11429603)

[personal profile] erbier 2017-12-28 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
No, I am not a new host. But I too was noisy when I first awoke.

[ Assent and a reassuring little smile. ]

This is the fourth location I have engaged in, on behalf of the Nest.
nastygram: (C:\weenix)

[personal profile] nastygram 2017-12-28 06:23 pm (UTC)(link)
But you're already lurking in the doorway and making me feel so secure. Why bother.

[She does need space. That is so true that it hurts, kind of, in that deep down fuck-you from anxiety kind of way. And the best way to deal with that is to turn it outwards, get a hand around the feeling and use it like a weapon.

Trouble is, the mental impression beamed back at her is one of immobility. Unmoved, is the word for it. Darlene keeps unwrapping anyways.]


Want to give me a ride out there, Protip? Or is this just for my future reference?
nastygram: (C:\interruptslocksout)

[personal profile] nastygram 2017-12-28 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[Darlene's defenses were hastily constructed, and do very little in the moment to hold back her doubt. I don't know is the only way she can answer that one, and she hates it. She is mad because she is always mad, discontent because there is a lot to be discontent with, and no one is going to tell her otherwise.

But the symbiote is already in her brain. Turn her rage there and she turns it on herself. She didn't ask for this shit. Darlene bends a blade of the long grass.]


I'll chill.

[She bends the grass again, another sharp angle.]

For now. Until I figure out what my best move is. But I promise it will not be getting in good enough to get me a garden of my own, so, I'll just have to come back and raid your farmer's market.
nastygram: (C:\onelinefix)

[personal profile] nastygram 2017-12-28 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh shit. We're not going to make a scene, are we.

[Because asking very nice and an admittedly tricky smooth it all over do not jive, but it's not like Darlene's complaining. To the contrary: she grins.

Maybe she should dig a little harder. Maybe she should find some hole in his defense and worm in and find out what it is that she's getting in with. Right now, the promise of fucking something up is enough for her. Active, potentially destructive, netting her some intel.]


It's a date. You get me ten minutes and I'll get you something worth looking at, Tiger.
stilettoes: ➝ sᴛɪʟᴇᴛᴛᴏᴇs (viii.)

[personal profile] stilettoes 2017-12-28 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course you are. You've been busy, after all, with your work.

[ the distance is met with a half-catch and then the sensation of drawing back. all the way. each bit curled inward now, flower closing petal by petal in slow motion as thought uncertain. juno pushes out for space and peter responds with the least verbal form of "ok" as if maybe he just expects that. maybe he's too fast and he's too eager and the sound of juno's voice means more than all the stars in the known universe, the one familiar thing he can cling to and trust that knows him the way he wants to be known by only one person.

if juno wants a wide berth, then so be it. let him have it. a lady needs his space, doesn't he? to breathe and to accommodate and peter begins to settle into the realization that he's...

too close.

much too close right now. that's it.

here and now with juno all teeth bared and sharp points tempered only in the minutes they've shared since the ship had touched down, it's not right to just go filling juno's space as much as he'd like. were they strangers, it'd be a different sort of story, but juno knows him for what he is. who he is. they've history, short and wild and unfinished, left with an em dash instead of a period. a question mark unanswered.

no, he'll fold. for once. he's too tired for this as well, woken up in the middle of the night and aching now in more ways than he can count, a thing that wraps itself up in a tangle of a gradually extending brood that he can feel beginning to peel downwards to invite more in. his mouth twitches under the veil as he offers juno a nod. sentiment is a sheet of opaque dark glass, made lighter, thinner by the feeling of juno being there. ]


I can leave you to it on your own if that's what you'd prefer.

[ tight, but not unkind. frustrated, but unwilling to leave him altogether, a contrail left behind when he pulls away completely.

you were calling for me. i wanted that. there, present, hovering too closely atop the skin. ]
incinerates: ID 13036614 @ PIXIV (ᴘɪɴᴋ ғᴇʀʀᴀɢᴀᴍᴏ sʟɪᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴋ)

[personal profile] incinerates 2017-12-28 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ouch. Success is important to him as well, and a poignant statement like that is a wicked little knife, aimed true. ]

Maybe not, but I'm not gonna' make it easy on this thing.

[ There's a lot of independence and antisocial behavior in this kid, a thing barely repressed that flinches and bares its teeth like a grimy alley-cat used to depending on its own steam and power to get by in the world. Used to being fed praise and admired for its self-sufficiency. Leaning on members of his weird mind-team is the LAST thing he desires, above all. He barely has friends. ]

And end up like that old chick on the station? Hard pass. I'm not sticking around when all's said and done!
Edited 2017-12-28 22:40 (UTC)
incinerates: ID 13036614 @ PIXIV (ᴡɪsʜ ᴀ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ)

[personal profile] incinerates 2017-12-28 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's like -- the air clears. Bakugo, huddled in an impolite, barely-contained heap on the ground by a patch of vibrant sunset-orange, barely perceives the change. One moment, she's a distant creature, the next moment she seems a little more real. The depth of it escapes him, but it makes her a little easier to talk to -- he doesn't feel like he needs to be ready to get to his feet and fight her.

( Plus, she gets a fractional bonus to her approval rating, by agreeing not to get in his way. ) ]


I only got one more question, for now.

[ He holds up a finger, half-gesturing to her, half to the station itself. ]

We're on a mission now, or somethin' like that -- who hands down that information? Where's it coming from?

[ Her? Someone higher than her? ]
nastygram: (C:\chomped)

[personal profile] nastygram 2017-12-28 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
And what, see if he wants to fake drunk for you again? Taking advantage of people like they're in a sideshow is not cool, dude.

[A little defensive, but so what. That's her brother. There's a territorial aspect to the way she delivers that response. Less clipped--]

That being said, he is a goon. So.

[Like, he deserves it if he's going to make an ass of himself.]

I would prefer something with more finesse but I guess we're all assholes on pretty even footing. And beggars can't be choosers or whatever. Mad props for getting some of that shit at all. What are you going to do with it now that you've got it?
incinerates: ID 13036614 @ PIXIV (ᴇsᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ɪғ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡ)

[personal profile] incinerates 2017-12-28 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
It's not.

[ If Noctis is sincere, then Bakugo is wicked in his honesty. There's nothing "easy" about a hero's work, nothing easy is ever worthwhile. The job is one of the hardest things he's ever known, built on nigh-indomitable willpower, careful and extensive training and education, and a particular type of personality ( shining, strong ). ]

It's the hardest thing, in the world. But, if you let something like doubt or hopelessness reach your heart, you've lost. And because you've lost, whether it's to a villain or a volcano, other people will get hurt. So, you just can't lose. It's simple, but it's not simple. You just gotta' get it in your head to chase victory, even it means you tear yourself apart to reach it.

[ There are heroes, he knows, who have died. He knows, without a doubt, that he could too. And he's made his peace with that, resolved to do everything in his immeasurable power to live on. Because that's winning too. ]
whereabout: that telling a woman to chill will get him murdered (he obv doesn't know)

[personal profile] whereabout 2017-12-28 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He feels it, of course. It may only have been a day, but it's not hard to identify that pull in his mind, the one that says: this is one of yours.

It's going to be a lot longer before he gets used to it, but that's not actually why he's staring quizzically at Peter (after a moment of staring at the shells in his lap).

Wait, what? ]


I - no? [ To the first question, that is. Left to his own devices, Joshua is about the most boring dresser ever. Everything's black or gray or maybe white. Which clearly isn't going to get him out of - well. He doesn't actually know what it's not getting him out of. ]

Sorry, help with what?
whereabout: it was really uncalled for. (he said a lot of nice things about me)

[personal profile] whereabout 2017-12-28 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Technically speaking, we probably can, but it wouldn't end well.

[ If they haven't seen the enemy, then creating a situation that would be tempting enough for the enemy to reveal themselves is...probably not worth the information it would get them. ]
whereabout: to you than when you threw up on my floor (honestly i've never been more attracted)

[personal profile] whereabout 2017-12-28 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
What happened to make you do it again?
perroquet: (03 listen)

[personal profile] perroquet 2017-12-28 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
It is a pity and a shame, but yes, I expect they are. You as well, young sir.

[ He's assuming based on what he hears of the boy's voice, but his ears are sharp. He doubts they deceive him now - he's young as edge of his mind is irritated with heightened teenage emotion. ]

It is tragic and cruel, especially for the victims and family, and that is all the more reason justice should be done. But we cannot end our journey prematurely, just as we cannot cease time from moving.

[ Which is to say, hopefully without diminishing the losses, that people die all the time. The rest cannot stop living because of it. ]
whereabout: (i just woke up feeling shameful)

[personal profile] whereabout 2017-12-28 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ In contrast, Joshua's always had trouble finding direction. Direction requires purpose. Purpose requires the kind of conviction that comes from knowing who you are and what you really want, and Joshua's spent so much of his life unsure of either.

And now, it's far too tempting to retreat back to thinking of himself as a tool instead of a person, so he doesn't have to feel all of that - anger? Frustration, certainly. Despair, maybe, at the thought of what he might never see again.

He's not hard to get a read on, and right now, his mind is churning like a ship in a storm, and he's the guy standing in the middle of the boat thinking: oh my God, I don't know anything about swimming. ]


I need to know more. About...all of this.

[ About the symbiote, about the station, about the world they're about to land on, about everyone else in the nest.

There are way too many feelings here and not enough logic. He needs some facts to latch onto and try to reason through, because that's the only thing he ever properly learned how to handle. ]

Page 25 of 38