Entry tags:
- *hatch log,
- annie westwind [original],
- bellamy blake [the 100],
- darlene alderson [mr robot],
- elliot alderson [mr robot],
- helen magnus [sanctuary],
- ilde vilmaine [original],
- joshua bright [legend of heroes],
- juno steel [the penumbra podcast],
- katsuki bakugo [my hero academia],
- rogue [x-men films],
- rust cohle [true detective],
- sam wilson [mcu],
- seth gecko [from dusk till dawn]
[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!



((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!))
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!))
no subject
[ If Shinji sounds terrorized, that's because this horror of a man's ears are still operating efficiently. How Shinji manages to throw himself in these situations, where he's the social butterfly to a veteran introvert's proactive misanthropy, he can't say.
But he's trailing along, soft-paced and loose-limbed, tension radiating off in quick pulses that barely smooth out. His mind's a disjointed thing, a timid stray creature scuttling in the dark — safely compressed, neatly unobtrusive. In that one way, at least, he's avoiding causing disturbance.
And besides, his new companion in stroll-along crime doesn't seem adverse to his strategic presence. If tolerating the sound of someone else's breathing beside you counts as a warm welcome, then Shinji's just landed himself a new best friend. ]
Shinji. Ikari Shinji. Kid is... I'm almost a man, so...
no subject
it's funny — now that he thinks about it, he's never known anyone particularly timid. he didn't exactly go around asking back then, but he was probably the kind of kid those types would avoid, and his only two friends grew up just as trouble-making as he did. hard not to, in a place like Old Town, which either chews people up or teaches them to knock a few teeth out first. and moving up to Hyperion, where crime is just another way of making money even to the cops... well. Mars produces some specific kinds of people, is all. ]
Detective Juno Steel. [ still keeping the occupation title. he doesn't know who he is without it and he doesn't want to be that person. ] If you're that uncomfortable with me, you don't have to stick around, y'know. I'm sure I can find a crowd to blend in with somewhere around here if I look hard enough.
[ it's a joke, delivered in the same faux-casual, sarcastic tone as nearly everything else that comes out of his mouth. get it? because there are a few dozen of them around and they all look exactly the same in the robes? he's hilarious. he's also making some mild effort to be considerate: give the kid an out, since Juno is well aware he's the defending champion for worst company in the world, 38 years running. ]
no subject
Mostly, detectives are the stuff of picture books and teen delinquent nightmares. Beneath the thick outer layer of their two-for-one robes, a badge must be hiding the last of its brass colors. Shinji's game, when he steals vagrant glances, is to stake out its shine. ]
How do you do.
[ Murmured manners, for a muted start. Whatever else they are here (alien, intruding, strange), they can stay coccooned in figments of lukewarm decency.
.
But nothing more. Enthusiasm's crippled by the time he offers his hand out and to the side, for a shake he neither anticipates nor waits out. He withdraws into himself, spine curving and shoulders slack, a question sign of a human being, ending his sentence. ]
Being here is as good for me as being anywhere else, so... [ So, he's in no rush to volunteer a clean exit. ] Have you found the... people who won't leave you alone after? Sir.
[ Ah, life in a 'Brood'. ]
no subject
the Brood, though. the ones that won't leave you alone. it's as good a description as any for the tangled feeling. ]
Ah, yeah. Those guys. [ his distaste is plain in his voice, and there's nothing more complicated than that on the surface of his mind. he doesn't like the connection. doesn't want it. doesn't appreciate being forced to make room for these people in his life when Nureyev takes up enough space as it is. ] I've met a couple. I doubt I made a good impression.
[ but how could that be when he's such a charming lady??? ]
no subject
They walk between flickers of silence, forced to shut down when the nearest native passes by. It's been an exercise of stealth and belated precaution to remember their training, but it comes — not naturally, just yet, but intuitively enough now.
He's stealing glances at his side again, easily intrigued. ]
Are they many? In your... group.
[ Spoken with the trauma of a young man stuck with an army of mental babysitters and little room to hide. ]
no subject
it's not anything that could be called good, but it's. Juno can breathe. and there's just enough conversation to keep him away from how everything feels not-quite-real because he should have died six months ago and he thinks he might still be waiting for the guillotine blade to drop. ]
I've met two, think there might be one I haven't.
[ none of them pleasant. and then there are the holes, as if he didn't have enough empty spots in him already; the strange feeling that something is missing, like a child with a lost tooth tonguing at the gap where it should be. waiting for the new one to grow in. he hates it. Hyperion City took out too much of him already. ]
You? [ conversational more than curious, but he is a little interested, in the same way a detective gathers information idly. Ikari has been here for longer, after all. ] How many ball-and-chains have you got?
no subject
[ Vagaries and euphemisms, daily local currency. 'A lot' that numbers names and faces, 'a lot' of volatile identities, 'a lot' of foreign, deranged dead weight.
He wants to laugh, but positions himself somewhere closer to decency, shrugging in aborted movement. ]
I've lost count. [ A beat. ] Sorry. I suppose I should be telling you something more encouraging . That they're not all bad.
[ And he's not all of a liar, truth licking at the sanded edges of his voice. ]
But they're mostly bad. And they think they have a right to know you. I suppose... that's the part no one mentions here.
[ The particle of corrupting arrogance that spreads out and turns cancerous. ]
no subject
[ even without a direct link into your head, they're always trying to dig something out of you. turning over gravedirt for the sake of closeness, or "for your own good." and these ones, the Brood, hell, the whole Nest — they're going to think that just because they saw a glint of something that caught their interest, it means they have every right to stick their fingers in to pull it out. like he owes them any part of himself, like he even has anything left to give. well, if they want to try, Juno will make it hurt. ]
I appreciate the honesty. [ and he means that sincerely, knocking away that little apology with a roll of his shoulder. he isn't really one for manners or niceties, especially if it means sugar-coating; things are always bad in the end anyway. might as well just come right out and tell him the truth. ] Wasn't really keen to hear the sales pitch on how tolerable this all is.
no subject
[ More of that honesty, sold by the kilogram. He looks between his new adult detective and kind of cool companion and the average passer-by with blank, unerring resignation. Roses are red, violets are blue, this place sucks, everyone does too. ]
People here... seem to enjoy it. The — sharing.
[ He has the decency to shrug with the general nervousness of a squirrel that's been caught out without stored supplies ahead of a hard winter, knowing fully well it lacks the chipmunk cuteness for a Hollywood career that might comfort it in its diet days. All in all, a miserable picture. ]
Maybe you will too. Aren't detectives supposed to like having partners?
no subject
he promptly grinds that impression under his heel. his better half — sure, but he cut that part of him away already. ]
Not my kind. [ he takes it casually for someone who just had an emotional reaction like a signal flare; he plainly doesn't expect any kind of acknowledgement for it. ] I'm a private eye. Sort of the black sheep when it comes to detectives.
[ and also he's just, like... a jerk. in general. not a people person. ]