[MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: Day :000 - ???
SUMMARY: Leaving the Station; the arrival and first days on Concordia. Concordia pt.1.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

IT'S EARLY IN THE DAY and something feels strange. It’s not unlike when a new Host - not one of your brood, but close enough to feel the tug - comes awake on the Nesting Deck. But it’s just the initial tug. There’s no noise, no hum of confusion or volume. Today, it’s just there: a sensation of presence that a moment ago wasn’t. Soon after follows a prickling awareness of urgency. A small electric bolt through the mind. Cathaway doesn’t use words in the mind, but her meaning is nonetheless easily understood: come to her on the hangar; your presence is required.

On the hangar there is a sleek, low profile transport ship. Before it stand Cathaway and Prince and in their company is a stranger: a short woman with warm skin and dark hair, wearing unfamiliar colorful clothes and a quick, pleasant smile. You’ve never seen her before, but you know she’s a Host.

“This is them?” Her voice is light and sweet. Prince, occupied by a databank, glances up at her then nods once. There’s a tension in his shoulder and through his jaw - a distinct contrast to Cathaway and the stranger who lack both.

“Lovely.” Her tone is breezy and easy, delighted. “Hello, it is so nice to meet you all! My name is Carata. My partner and I have been away on duty for a few months, but it’s become clear that we need backup on our assignment. We are hoping you can help.” Carata motions to the mission equipment in neat kits at her feet. There is one for each young Host.

Prince folds his pad down into its smallest form. His expression is set and serious.

“You will be joining Carata and Nirad on the planet below to assist them with their mission. Your datapbank will provide you with information about the planet and the city where you will be stationed. This mission is covert and the planet itself has no contact with other planetary races, so you will need to do your utmost to blend in.”

Cathaway sharpens slowly beside them: a dull pencil being sharpened to a point as her attention curves back to this place, this instance. She unfolds her hands. “You’ll be provided with an earpiece that should allow you to interface with the local technology and a fake identity for your cover on world. Please mind both carefully and be sure to keep your databanks offline. It would be inconvenient if they were networked while on planet.” From the way she says it, it sounds like ‘inconvenient’ might be an understatement. “This mission shouldn’t be inherently life threatening. Your primary goal is to investigate the anti-android movement. Carata and Nirad will be able to tell you what your databanks do not.”

“You should listen to them,” Prince adds. “Rely on their experience and knowledge to help you succeed in your task. Be mindful, and treat them with the respect they have earned.”

At this Carata laughs. It’s a bright, joyful sound, her hands coming up to clasp in front of her chest, “Please, teacher, you are too serious. I am sure they will do very well. Come along then! Gather your things; we must leave as soon as possible. I do hate to leave Nirad alone for too long.”

Turning her back to the Hosts, Carata takes Cathaway’s hand for a moment Nothing is said, but there’s the distinct impression of something passing between them. They release their grip, then Carata turns to Prince. She places her hands on his shoulders and goes up to her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t return the gesture, but those with sharp eyes will note he does lean down slightly to make her job easier.

Gather your gear, get anything from your rooms you might not want to leave behind. In two hours, everyone attending the mission will be buckled or strapped into the transport as Carata readies the ship for takeoff. She explains, neatly and concisely, what they believe the enemy to be doing in Concordia. Then, with a turning of the deck, the ship is freed from the embrace of Station 72.

It will be a long time before you see this place again.

     I. THE WHEELS ON THE BUS
The flight to Concordia is surprisingly short. By the time Carata's finished her explanation, you've passed into a new universe. It comes with a strange wave of something akin to nausea. Outside the transport's starboard viewports lays Opia in all it's glory: a beautiful blue marble speckled with sixteen landmasses and swathed in thing clouds like spun sugar. From this distance, clusters of light burn from specific points on the continents like a map of grounded constellations. As one of the great megacities of Opia comes curling from around the edge of the planet, the transport ship begins to descend.

Atmospheric entry is smooth. The transport drops at the outskirts of Concordia on what is, hilariously, some kind of large parking garage. It has engaged the most sophisticated of its cloaking technology to do this and Carata urged everyone to disembark quickly so the ship can return to orbiting the planet before it's detected.

"It will be back," she says flippantly. "When we've finished our job."

The ship departs. It's quiet and still for a handful of minutes; Carata seems unconcerned and gives little in the way of direction or instruction. The city flashes around them - bright lights and neon masking the fading of natural light - and nearby, a roadway hums. Eventually the sound of a car pitches louder. A set of headlamps shear from the long line of cars and in moments a long, squarish transport van pulls up and parks at the top of the garage. The side door slides open to admit everyone. In the driver's seat is an android - shining metal and cheerful as it greets every host by name. Beside the android in the van's passenger seat sits a tall, dark skinned man who - much like Carata - is obviously a host.

Welcome to Concordia.

     II. HOME SWEET HOME
It's a long drive into the city. The buildings get taller, the lights get brighter, the streets get busier. There are throngs of people on the street, dogged by endless rows of neon bright advertisements. Traffic is either miserable or flowing depending on the neighborhood and trams run on tracks fifty feet or more above the roadways. Streams of people files from the pavement to the subways, countless numbers of escalators leading down.

When the bus finally stops, it's in front of a building as tall as any others. The signs here mark this section of the city as BETA BLOCK and when you get out and into the building lobby you find that the door opens for you automatically. A chime rings through the interfacing ear piece and when you enter the elevators, the only floor accessible to you is NUMBER EIGHTEEN. When you disembark, a kind voice welcomes you by home in your ear. There are a large number of rooms here in Bearing - stake your claim, everyone! Nirad and Carata already have a couple of rooms in the Southwest corner of the building, but the rest are open. Time to settle in!

     III. FEET ON THE GROUND
You're given the rest of the night to sleep (or...whatever), but by 9AM the next morning everyone is awoken by Carata's voice in their head. She's clearly not shy of using her symbiotic connection.

( Good morning! I know this is quite a lot to get used to. I believe this is your first true assignment? But I have always believed that the best way to learn something new is to jump right in. ) The words are accompanied by the sensation of someone clapping their hands together, a cheerful kind of practicality. ( You’ve been given a credit card. I encourage you to go out today and learn what you can about this place. Talk to people. Listen to the news. Be sure to remember your cover identity, and don’t hesitate to call if you find yourself in trouble. )

There is nothing pressing to the suggestion, just the sensation- light. Airy. Fun. She switches track after a moment, a thoughtful addition: ( There is also a rally in town today. It’s being run by The True Children of Opia, some minor little hate group-- ) She seems to wave off the unsavory aspects as she forges ahead, ( They aren’t affiliated with Humans + Humans 1st, but they do have very similar ideologies and it is quite probable that there is overlap in their membership. If you would rather, it is also quite likely that there will be protestors there as well, both members of Mind Life and those who are adamant about pursuing digital resurrection. Please do be careful, though, sometimes those rallies can be a little... ) An image of an oily substance catching flame, quickly and hotly.

( Whatever you chose, simply do your best to get your bearings. ) She seems to realize the unintended joke there, given the name of their current residence, and a bright happy flash of color accompanies it. What a delightful surprise. ( Prepare yourself for what is to come. Nirad and I will continue our investigation in the meantime. )

---

((OOC Notes: This is the catchall log for the first stages of the Concordia mission. You'll notice there's no set ending date, so use this log however you like - alternatively, feel free to start your own logs in the setting! Don't worry; we'll be keeping a close eye on things, so if something big starts to happen that necessitates a new long, we'll make sure to keep our bases covered and all of y'all updated. Just be aware that dating forward farther than :010 may get a little dicey.

If you have any mission specific questions, direct them to the OOC post here.))

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Comments

[circumspector]

[ She doesn't want to move then, it feels safe and warm, and she wants that so desperately. The process of relearning is an agony, takes time. Slowly she settles against him, her breath evening out, her body going lax, but her fingers stay curled tight. ]

Handsome Jack - my, uhm, my father used to make me talk to people. All the time. I was locked in a room, away from everyone so I did so with my abilities. He uhm, he'd make me befriend them, make me pretend I really was like an angel, that I was leading them to something better. The vaults or, a way to stop him from taking over the planet, whatever it was that they wanted. Whatever it was that would make them listen to me. He'd make me say things to them, and I liked... I liked a lot of them, they were closest thing I had to friends until I came here, I guess.

[ It's a quiet story, one she tells in half amounts. The details that matter are there, her worry is there, what he needs to understand in so much of what she can bare to bring up on any given day. ]

And then he'd make be betray them. I would lead them into traps, into ambushes, to face horrendous monsters from other dimensions so he could obliterate them and reap the rewards. I've... I've killed a lot of people, Sam. I've caused even more to die.

[ Her fingers curl, her breath sucks in, determined. ] I don't want to do that to anyone ever again.

[frakkincylons]

[ Sam leans back against the wall next to her bed, gets comfortable, ready to stay here and hold onto Angel for as long as she needs it. He's quiet as she tells him about her father, though emotion wells up - angry that a father could be so cruel to their child. But at the same time, not unfamiliar with it. He knows this story, knows the guilt that comes with, knows the struggle of what you want and what your parents want, and what that little voice that just needs their approval so, so badly whispers in the back of your mind. ]

He was your father. Obviously a pretty frakked up one, but family's family, Angel. You can't blame yourself for wanting to please him. [ His arms squeeze, hugging her tight a moment, and he lets out a sigh. ] My wife, Kara. Her mother, Gods, she was a piece of work. Hit her, screamed at her, hurt her in the worst ways. But it was her mother, you know? They make up your whole world, and Kara... she just wanted to make her mom proud. Just wanted to win her love.

[ And lord, Kara never fully recovered from what her mother did to her head, but that's just life, isn't it? Your past makes your present, and what you do with it decides your future. It's part of who you are, but it doesn't rule you. ]

You won't have to ever again. Not here with us, not with me looking out for you, okay? [ Not because anyone else tries to tell her what to do or force her, not so long as he has anything he can do about it. ] You do what you this is best, and when you frak up, 'cause we all do, you decide what went wrong, then pick yourself back up and do better next time. It's all you can do.

[circumspector]

[ She nods against his chest, it's small -- but she has to believe it, she has to believe it's all okay. There's so many things she doesn't say, she feels so keenly her own inexperience. Unable to detangle herself even if she should, she knows so many resent the hive but she doesn't, she couldn't.

It takes a while to stir out of her. She has to do it by pieces. ]

It wasn't ... It wasn't just that - I stopped loving him a long time ago. When I stopped remembering what food tasted like, what sunlight felt like. [ She turns in close. Deep, deep, shakey, shakey, those first steps on Avera. She will remember that planet not for the misery, though there was just as much of it.

But the sun, she saw the sun again, and she had cried then too, she was so deliriously happy. Her face turned up to it, it was on her skin and her skin was her skin again and she would do with it as she wished. This is what it feels like, she expresses, to remember what it was like to learn to walk again, this is what it feels like, to taste food just for itself. This is what it feels like - and this is what like being deprived of it all could do over enough time. ] He wanted to be my everything. Sirens are just so handy when you're wiping out life on planets and toppling heads of corporations, it's just so convenient to have one as a daughter. He'd give me anything I wanted, anything but leaving my control core. Then he'd - then when he'd kill, when he'd get me to hurt people, he'd tell me he was doing it all because he loved me. He loved me so much that he couldn't let me go. He'd never touch me, he'd make sure no one ever touched me again. He'd never so much as lift a finger to me, but he'd built himself an Empire off my abilities, and I needed to be in control, so he put a collar on me to monitor my brain waves. Just for the safety of the crews that controlled me, he told me that it needed to be able to shock me, just to make sure I didn't hurt anyone. He was only thinking of me. [ the fulled shine of the implant in her head. ] Made sure that if I wanted anything, I'd - I'd have to get it through him. He was the sun, and the stars, and worse, he was the only real person I could be in contact with. He promised he'd always be the hero in all my stories. I'd get so desperate, for something, for anything, I can't explain what that's like that - [ doesn't have to, it's there, in her mind, it's no hot flash, not a sudden storm, she keeps it deep but so close, it's unmistakeable, it's rage that has gone past madness, past cruelty, past heat to cold, cold, cold methodical destruction.

She will have no other Kings now but her own - she will not let someone else choke the divinity from her again, she will be her own God, she will be her own martyr, and no one, no one will ever take these bones of hers, these screams she had given to silence until her throat had bled, and build anything out of her again. She will burn it all down first, she has proven it before. Her fingers curl against his shirt and she swallows, trying to will the calm back, she must have it, she must always have it. ] Sometimes, I even believed that - that if he could have that much power, maybe he would let me out. I was lying to myself. That he would change it like he said he would. I didn't have anything else. I stopped lying to myself when he... when he started drugging me until my body couldn't live without it.

[ It's a lot - and she needs to - needs to get it out, she's guilty, because Jack has made her guilty, because he made her scared, he made her whatever he wanted. She'd had more power, more control, than half the galaxy, and she had none, she was child at the whim of a mad man. She was a lonely daughter that believed her father had loved her once. It heaves out of her like sickness, like purging. The mindlessness of it, until she had came here - and she thinks, in the end, is what it all means - is that she's still scared, and it's jumbled through the filter of a life not lived. But she appreciates so much, all of it. ]

[frakkincylons]

[ his heart aches for her, again and again and again throughout all that she shares with him, and yet, at the same time, sam’s so glad and so grateful that she did share all of this with him, trusted it to him, because it must be so difficult for her to trust now.

By the time angel reaches the end of her stories, there’s tears on sam’s cheeks, and his arms around her have pulled her so close and so tight, a hand stroking through her hair and the other rubbing at her back. She’s endured so much, had to watch cruel people in a cruel world, and living through it left her with so much distrust of life, the possibilities of it and of herself. She’s been wounded and warped by an evil man’s insanity, and Sam hates that it’s tainted her future for her. But that’s life, it’s carried with you, and you have to decide how to let that weight go as you move forward. Some never do, but Gods, he hopes she can find some peace in this life. ]

I’m so sorry, sweetheart, Gods, I’m so sorry. [ He whispers against her temple, pressing a paternal kiss to the side of her head as he rocks her. ] I know it hurts, and I know you’re scared, but Angel, you did something incredible. You survived all of that, when most would go nuts. You went through Hell and came out the other side still standing.

[ there’s a deep kind of sincerity in his voice, not just saying these things to make her feel better - there’s truly an admiration for her strength and her bravery, despite whatever she might call failings. It’s all there in the mental bond between them, as Sam lets warmth and cherishing flow from him to envelope her. ]

The past is past, and you did the best you could. You have to forgive yourself, sweetie, because look at everything you have now. [ freedom, the agency to choose for herself, make her own mistakes or her own victories, to be, as she’d wanted, her own god and her own martyr. All hers and hers alone. ] The whole multiverse around you, this entire city, you are the only one you have to answer to.

And you don’t have to jump out there on your own. You have all of us.