station72 | [hatch log] i had a dream which was not all a dream

Entry tags:

[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

[ Beneath the arch of a door that may or may not have previously been there, Ilde stops. She is a twenty year old girl, with tumbling blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing the same grey bodysuit that the Prince and Cathaway make comfortable. ]

I thought I might invite you to walk in my garden. You might find it peaceful.

[ Ilde's voice is soft, direct, but feminine. Her mind is all but silent, tightly shielded in an icy embrace. Her presence brings with it a faint smell of damp earth, flowers, smoke.

The door she stands next to opens with a gesture from her hand, exposing a portal into something lush-seeming, vibrantly green in the sterile white of the Station. ]

I seriously doubt it.

[A garden. The Garden State. Darlene's mother didn't have a garden. Other moms did. Tomato plants in cages. Soft leaves poking through a chain link fence. Damp earth. Flowers. Smoke.

Beyond this chick, Darlene can see green. It's in the hallway now, too, somehow, like some kind of aura thing. She realizes she hasn't seen green in hours, at least. Probably longer. How long was she in the friggin' pod? When was the last time she was in a park?]

Where did you come from?

[She doesn't remember passing a door. Maybe she did. That feels like a specific kind of crazy she isn't sure that she wants to confront right now, even in the hypothetical.]

[ Ah, another one of these, so stubborn and rude. She wonders why she bothers sometimes, but then it is also no particular strain on her. She can keep whoever she wants out of this garden -- hers, private. Darlene would never find this door again if Ilde did not wish it. Her only regular guest is Cathaway. All the others are gone. ]

From down the hall.

[ Not a lie, only a vague evasion. Indeed, there were many hosts who did not comprehend -- or were not ready to comprehend -- some of the Station's little secrets. ]

Okay.

[Flat, sarcastic. Like, thanks for the help, babe.]

And yet you're very chill and I'm very not. What's your secret?

[Darlene's got this cutting tone going, but she's struggling, still, with the feeling like her anxiety is going to punch its way out of her chest. Keep walking, she tells herself; keep going.

Instead she tips her head to one side so she can get a better angle of sight.]

You have got to know how lurker in an alley you sound right now. The last time someone invited me in to their secret garden, I did a lot of blow. Is that the kind of thing that's up here because I think I am running on too much personal adrenaline to get any kind of good thing going.

[ She hesitates to answer, a look of confusion on her face. The more modern english speakers are difficult for her. She is not familiar with most of the inferences Darlene makes. The Consensus alerts her nuances, which she picks apart, replaying what has been said to her with the new information in mind. Even once she's done it, she decides most of it was mostly noise over content. ]

I know it is difficult to first awaken. I offer what reprieve I can, but only time will truly ease you.

[ Unflappably cool, still. She'll wait a little longer, to see if her invitation is accepted, but it wouldn't be the first time she's simply gone inside and closed the door either. ]

Trust me, hon, there is nothing in your garden that is going to ease me. No matter how sweet your shrooms are.

[That being said, she hasn't walked away. The urge to book it is immediately obvious. The tingle of her mistrust is burning hot under her skin. She can't read anything unsavory coming along the line of connection, and she trusts that even less.

She jerks her chin. Move.]

Let me see.

[ She steps back without even a flinch of irritation, letting the other woman approach her doorway, to peer inside.

A green pathway winds through walls of tall grass. The wildness of the long grasses gives the illusion that the space inside is much larger than it is. Barely visible from here, from between trees and fronds, is central clearing with a grass knoll and a few rocks where Ilde sleeps and entertains her guest. ]

There are fresh fruit and vegetables as well, if you are hungry.

[ She does not mention what herbs she does have and their effects. That was something she preferred to keep to herself. No one needed to know every weapon at her disposal. She'd been taught that well by another host. ]

[The answer is no, but only because Darlene still feels gnawing nerves eating away at her insides. She's not a big fruits and vegetables, regular meals kind of girl anyways. Never has been. Then again, if it's all astronaut food on board the U.S.S. Fucked Up, maybe she'll be back to hit up the farmer's market at some point.

Instead, she shoots this chick another look, narrow with suspicion.]

How'd you get all this?

[ Such a question, and she wonders if Darlene is really ready to hear the answer. Will it matter, when they won't be spending more than a day or two on the Station before going abroad? She would forget all about it, by the time they returned... ]

The Station created it for me.

Uh-huh.

[Created could mean a lot of things. Simulated is the first synonym that comes to Darlene's mind. Definitely it's separate from planted, which should be the first word used when describing a friggin' garden.

And besides all of that--]

How'd you pay for it?

Edited 2017-12-18 16:15 (UTC)

[ A small pinch at the corner of Ilde's eyes, the suppression of a cold smile. What does this girl want to hear? That she has signed away her soul for this. Haven't they all. ]

The Station desires our comfort. I had a desire, and it was met. You need only be open to it.

[Darlene snorts.]

Which means what. I have to go all zen and culty like you? No offense, babe, but if that's the price, I am not into it. When some dude asks me to open up to him, that is right about when I leave his ass. No matter how good an ass it is.

[She has taken a half-step into the room--the garden--as she's said all of this, almost unconscious in the way she's drifting in. It smells real, that's for sure. If it is a simulation, it is a beaucoup simulation.]

How many open people are here, besides you.

[ She does hate to be called that. Babe. Sweetheart. Honey. They all nettle her. She pushes the cold, simmering irritation for it down. ]

Few. Most take your stance.

[ And oh does she look down on them for it. There is power to be had, for a bit of openness, and if there is one thing Ilde values: it is power to wield. ]

I hope you will find that comforting.

[ She means that in the most backhanded way possible, her tone featherlight as she walks into her garden, her fingers reaching out to rustle the long grasses as she moves past them. ]

I'd say I'm fifty-fifty on the comfort scale. Anyone falling for the bullshit is depressing. And skepticism hasn't freed us so far, so--

[She shrugs, caviler. Paranoia is taking the edge off, for once, instead of working in its usual way. Distrust is something Darlene knows well. She is also getting the slightest touch of irritation off this chick, no matter how chill she is acting. That alone could make Darlene feel a little better.]

Far as I can tell, freedom would be a lobotomy. Decidedly un comforting. What do I call you, zenmaster?

[She trails in to the garden proper a few steps more, taking note of the sound the grass makes. Very real.]

What do you intend to do? If not to acclimate, and become comfortable.

[ Ilde is always curious about this, in the most defiant ones. The ones who talked about somehow washing their hands of all this, when their world was saved. Or the ones who were determined to fight the pull of the Nest... She thinks of the Prince in his quarters, as far away from the beating heart of the Station as he could be, separate from all of them, refusing to lose anything of his will and more lonesome for it. She supposes their clarity of purpose must have its uses. ]

My name is Ilde.

[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.

[ She contemplates. There are very few hosts who can find their way in to this space of their own volition. Cathaway. Bellamy. John. Not even her own broodmates had been invited in. ]

You may return, if you like.

[ Easily rescinded if Ilde changed her mind, but meant in kindness in the moment. ]

Though we are not to be here on the Station for long. We will be joining the others soon. Do you feel prepared for that?

[ To jump worlds all over again, to join the other hosts: their noisy minds and confused motivations. ]

[Darlene's determination has gotten her pretty far in life, reliably enough that she is confident in her ability to get back here if she wants to.

She is less certain of joining the others. The chink in her armor is exploited, easily, by just that one line. Brief but present. Her misgiving shows in the way she shoots a glance back toward the way she entered, without turning around to look full on at it.]

Getting shat down onto some planet does not sound like my idea of a good time.

[She creases the blade of grass again, firmly.]

But seeing as everything around here is pretty much predetermined, I doubt anyone except you is going to ask my opinion.

[Which doesn't really answer the question.]

You don't have to go.

[ Ilde herself has refused a mission, stayed behind on the Station while the others went on with their work. ]

But it will be lonely here, on your own.

I'm good with being alone.

[Not really. A practiced liar, Darlene can only do so much to disguise her mental tells. Like bruises, you have to look for them. But they're there. She folds the blade of grass once more.]

If I stay, you gonna lock me out of here? Does the door disappear when you do?

[ Ah... Ilde would not have believed that much, either way. Being alone has taken on such a new meaning now that they are hosts. It had not troubled Ilde as much because she was more entrenched in the Nest. She no longer felt alone. The Station speaks to her. The Hive speaks to her... ]

Could I trust you, to be kind to my garden? I have had my plants set to fire before.

[Darlene snorts. She does stop bending the grass--like she's maybe unconsciously trying to prove herself worthy of garden privileges--but swats it away, removing any thought to that end.]

What jackass sets plants on fire?

A childish one.

[ A hell demon residing inside of a boy. Ilde had learned to accept him, eventually, but at first she had thought she might simply kill him, remove his malevolence from the Nest. ]

Who knew my plants were very dear to me.

[She rolls her eyes. Childish.]

Cool. I know all about that shit, I live on the internet. You can rest assured that I am a dick but not that kind of a dick. Okay?

Your... [ a quirk of her lips, it is rare anyone gets her to speak obscenities. ] dickishness does not bother me.

[ Not much, anyway. Ilde has actually met too many of these obstinate rude things all full to brimming with weakness and hurt while among the hosts. ]

So, yes, that is okay.

[ Permission to be a dick, if you must. ]

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

1 - ilde option

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)