station72 | [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!))

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

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Having another presence in her mind is nothing new to Rogue, and it almost makes her feel like she did in the old days back at the mansion, though the woman in front of her is quite a bit different than Charles Xavier. It feels pleasant though, and the atmosphere of the gardens does wonders to chase the memory of the mansion from her mind -- it's a good thing, since there are cracks in the walls of her grand plantation house, the shutters unhinged, the windows full of broken glass. She'll have to work on building up her shields again if she's to keep the psyches in her mind at bay.

A deep breath, held for a few long moments, and then she nods, reaching up with gloved hands to nervously tuck striped hair back behind her ears before taking that offered seat. The grey of her gloves is like a dark smudge against the white of the clothes she'd been provided, but the last thing she wants is to hurt anyone here. ]

Why was I brought here? [ Her voice is soft, a smooth southern drawl coloring the vowels. ]

[She sets the tablet across her knee and sweeps the curtain of her steel colored hair behind the lone of her shoulder as Cathaway turns her body toward her new companion. The woman is a series of easy lines, as natural in this place as the alien flora, the strangely organic lattice work at the edges of the stone bench.]

Because you were in danger and for the time being, this Station is safe from the creatures that hunt you. That's the simplest answer, of course. [Implying there's a complicated one.]

Usually we'd offer to let that explanation lay for a time to be considerate as you acclimate to the Station. Unfortunately, it seems you won't be here for very long.

[Her spidery hand moves over the face of the tablet, tapping rhythmically through a few screens as she speaks:] But to begin, let's say that you were being hunted because your physiology has a special quality to it that makes you dangerous to their cause.

[She shoots the younger woman a sidelong glance, something sly like a joke in the arch of her eyebrow.]

Familiar concepts, we're sure.

[ Rogue is used to dealing with strangeness in her life; this woman could have green skin and four arms and it wouldn't faze her. What does get to her is all the woman says. For the time being and hunted. It brings up memories of sleeping in abandoned houses, camping in forests, always on the move. Images of the lights of the Sentinels searching for them, building crashing down around them once the hunters spot their prey. It's hard to shake loose of the fear that comes with the recollections, but she does her very best to push it aside to focus on the situation at hand. ]

Very familiar. [ It's little more than a murmur, punctuated by an uncomfortable shift as she starts to put the puzzle pieces together. If she won't be here for very long, if she's a danger to this enemy... Everything goes still in her mind as she thinks she begins to understand her new purpose. ]

I won't be here for long because you're sending me to fight them, aren't you?

[Maybe there are pieces of Cathaway that want to say No, nothing like that, but they're so small as to be insignificant - erased by the popular vote of everything else. What use is a lie of convenience or comfort in this situation? So the thought hardly occurs to her before it's slipping away. Instead, the wry lines of Cathaway's expression moderate. She sighs.]

Yes. [She offers the tablet out to Rogue. There are pages of information laid out on the screen - and however it makes sense for Rogue to page through them seems to be how the slim piece of technology operates. (Is that a strange coincidence, or something else? Some other benefit of the thing in her mind?) Regardless, there in the pages of the tablet lay neat blocks of text and illustrative images outlining the mission that lies ahead.] Unfortunately, at the moment we find ourselves fighting defensively - our numbers are small and the priority is to minimize the damage our Enemy can do while simultaneously keeping this Station secret from them.

[She laces her fingers together around the sharp point of her knee, deceptively idle given the topic of conversation.]

The Prince would say it's not much of a war at all, but we disagree.

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

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