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

[onemind]

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 )

Comments

[erbier]

[ 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. ]

[nastygram]

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.]

[erbier]

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.

[nastygram]

[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.

[erbier]

[ 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. ]

[nastygram]

[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.]

[erbier]

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.

[nastygram]

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?

[erbier]

[ 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.

[nastygram]

[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?

[erbier]

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.

[nastygram]

[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?

[erbier]

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. ]

[nastygram]

[There's a beat, where Darlene calculates. Then something suspiciously close to a smile flicks onto her face, there and then gone again. Not quite a smile. She is not that chill yet, despite the peace of this pocket dimension of a garden, and she does not trust anyone as a rule.

Still.]

Props for being able to take it. Not everyone can.

[#notallgirls, as it were. Darlene turns to look back at the door she came through, half expecting it to be gone, or else to be doing that holodeck thing, some totally anachronistic door superimposed over idyllic field wallpaper.]

[erbier]

[ There is a seam in the wall, which denotes the presence of a door, although it could be easy to overlook. Ilde herself does not turn to follow Darlene's gaze, instead simply contemplating the woman herself. Is it worth the effort, to denote how little those 'props' mean to her? Likely not. That seemed unnecessarily combative, which was not Ilde's way. Though perhaps Darlene's. ]

You're also free to leave, as you like.

[ As if that might've been a concern. ]

[nastygram]

Thanks, for the invitation.

[She says it sarcastically, but it does chill her out a little when she picks out the shape of the door. An escape route is important, even from tranquil zen gardens or whatever.]

I'm pretty good right here. Better than crawling up the walls of Labyrinth or whatever.