station72 | [mission: hyrypia] big, but not coarse

[mission: hyrypia] big, but not coarse - merely on another scale

CHARACTERS: Everyone
WHERE: The Red Coast
WHEN: DAY :036 - DAY :037
SUMMARY: A multiverse away, new hatches wake on the Station. On Hyrypia, the Garstall hunt begins in earnest - and wraps up with terrible consequences.
WARNINGS: Animal hunting and slaughter, death, Bad Times at Ridgemont High. Need something added? PM the mod account!

STATION 72
DAY :036

THE HATCH - NEW HOSTS
YOU WAKE UP and the universe and you in it are altered. --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 from a very deep sleep or coming up from the darkness of some wine colored sea. Nothing is different and yet everything is.

You find yourself lying in a small, hexagonal chamber with a gentle light emanating from its walls. If you were injured during your escape, you're now 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 until you disconnect the IV running from the base of your neck to the chamber wall.

Then 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.

Eventually you find your way out of the pod, having found whatever belongings you brought with you and a change of crisp white clothes in a cubby near your feet. Once you descend to the Nesting Deck, 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.
EXPLORE the strange environment you've found yourself in. The Station seems to be both infinitely vast and strangely small. It's possible to wander along halls and through chambers for hours, only to turn a corner and find yourself in a place you've already been because your mind happened to think of it.

PREPARE for what's to come. Not long after your arrival, a pair of aliens arrive in a dark ship bearings mission kits for everyone. Get changed into your disguises, brush up on your mission briefing, and ask what questions you have while you can. It isn't long before you're loaded onto the ship and leave the Station behind.

HYRYPIA - THE RED COAST
DAY :036

A CALLING
A FAMILIAR FEELING to those that know it is sign enough that the elder hosts must depart to fetch whoever it is remains on the station. But this time, it's not just two of them that strike out under the cover of night. Instead, all four of them make their way from Whalsome House.

( We will not be gone long. ) Collector’s voice is a cheerful lilt in their minds as she gathers a book in hand. ( Try to have only pleasant stories for me, when we return. )

And with that Rhan, The Collector, Siva'co and Lyr are gone. They take with them the comatose Hosts and leave the rest to their own devices.

HYRYPIA - THE RED COAST
DAY :037

THE HUNT
DAWN BREAKS over a coastline already bustling with activity. The day has finally come to take those long boats out beyond the shallows and hunt the massive serpent-like Garstall in earnest. A familiar horn is blown and anyone who wishes to participate files down onto the beach and is divided into groups, a dozen or two people for each boat. There's a celebratory air to the whole affair, a true pleasure in taking the boats out into the sea. For all that the Barithian Hunt was anxious and quiet and tense, this is is a day of laughter and shouting and singing rowing songs as the boats slash their way through the open water toward the massive creatures roiling through the deeper water off the coast.
SHORT HANDED might not be the first thought that comes to mind on the bustling ships, but at some point during the hunt it becomes clear that Keya isn't present despite the fact that she's been attending every training session. Should anyone ask, one of the Descendants confesses that Keya skipped the hunt because Shee Naraxa secured a meeting between her and the heads of House Tyrisson concerning "her peace talk idea." The news seems to surprise one of the other Descendants; while it’s difficult to read her expression, it’s clear this is not what she expected to hear. She remains tense for the remainder of the voyage.

FINDING THE GARSTALL is simple enough for the experienced sailors of the Red Coast. They look for signs where the water’s color is more pronounced and where the waves seem to stir in unusual directions. They direct those who have less to do with controlling the fickle vessels to keeping a weather eye out for these signs, and to let out a cry when they spot them. Once a Garstall is spotted, all the nearby boats must rally together to take it.

ONCE SPOTTED what had been a pleasant but almost routine sail becomes something far different. Orders and directions are shouted down the lengths of the vessels. Hunters are armed and those in charge of ballast set to their stations.

The boats maneuver incredibly well for their size, their narrowness slashing through the sea to close on the Garstall that has risen near the surface. The beast is huge - larger than any single boat. It's like a great tree come to life, a twisting trunk of a body in the waves. The ships cut in separate directions, and when the signal horn sounds then the hunt truly begins. Hunters begin to hurl harpoons into the waves, aiming for the Garstall's sinuous body.

When the harpoons find their target, the whole boat shudders and tips. There's shouting and some laughter, the eager deck hands compensating for the drag of the beast by sliding weight across the deck to the opposite side of the boat. On one of the boats, a line snaps and sends the ship springing back the opposite direction - several of the sailors thrown into the water even as the hunters lose their footing. On another boat they fail to slide the ballast quickly enough and the Garstall wrenches them forward as it attempts to dive, leaving the other two boats attached to the beast attempting to compensate. On still another boat, they subdue a smaller beast much more easily. Sailors line the boat's side as one of the crewmen slides down the harpoon line, knife in hand to finish the job.

It’s a chaotic experience - but a successful one.

RAISE A BLADE, RAISE A GLASS
IN THE AFTERMATH of the successful hunt, the Garstall's massive carcasses are dredged up into the shallows. It's hot work to beach the massive animal. Once it's in the foaming purple surf, the most delicate parts of it must be stripped from the carcass before they can rot. The harvesting of the fat under the Garstall's heavy plates can wait, but the exposed flesh must be stripped promptly to avoid rot. Luckily, this work is done under the guise of celebration and the result is half slaughter and half bonfire beach party as night falls over the Red Coast.
BUTCHERY might not be the right work for everyone, but the locals leading the task are good natured and encouraging.

FEASTING on the sweet meat of the Garstall is a given. Huge slabs of meat are roasted over equally massive fires as the work is completed. Drinks are passed around. Music is played. Fashionably late, the heads of Tyrisson House come down for their manor (for a split second in the company of Shee Naraxa before she peels away to join the rest of the Descendants) to give another cheerful speech. The work is hard but rewarding, and for a moment the tenor of this place is so very good.

A DREADFUL DISCOVERY
BUT A MONSTER IS HUNTING and just after the speech, a horrifying sense of dread grips the Hosts. It's sickening - a vomiting, visceral wrongness that reaches out of the universe and finds the symbiote and the Host mind and sinks its hooks there exactly as it did that night on the road from Naerstone. Should anyone follow that dreadful sensation, they'll find themselves in the twisted orchard near Tyrisson House, mist clinging low to the ground in the chilling evening, lit only by a pale moon. What waits for them there is a pitch black circle scorched into the loamy earth - so exact and so precisely like the one discovered so many days earlier. And near this perfect circle: the broken body of Keya, her throat split open and blood still wet on the ground.

NEW FRIENDS (OF ALL SHAPES AND SIZES)
NEWS OF THE MURDER SPREADS and all the envoys are encouraged to return to their quarters for their safety while those in the employ of Tyrisson house secure the area-- encouragement which turns to insistence until all the members of the Envoys have returned their respective housing. Lights are lit in every courtyard and at every corner. Tension runs high. During this time, as the Hosts wait in their own row of Whalsome House's low stone buildings, company arrives:
A VISITOR arrives with a special request. An older Descendant wrapped in a heavy cloak with a deep hood comes knocking. When she reveals her face, Lakshmi might recognize her as Keya's aunt. "My name is Casiria," she says. "I believe you knew my niece."

It’s clear from her demeanor that she has far more to say before she goes.

FAMILIAR FRIENDS in the shape of newly hatched hosts and your senior chaperones arrive not long after Casiria's departure. They find their way to Whalsome House in a hush, having apparently faced some difficulty in dodging the added security. Better catch everyone up quickly.

((OOC Notes: This log serves as a general catch-all for events from DAY :036 through DAY :037. Please feel free to create your logs outside of this one, though we strongly recommend not forward-dating to the following morning. Please be aware that in the context of this log, new Hosts won't be present on Hyrypia until after Casiria has left. 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

i.
[ She doesn't give a shit about the garstall hunt. But she goes because she's brain-melded to the fucking king of fishing and he gives a whole bunch of shits. More then anything though, really, it's just something to fucking do other than lay around on the beach and drink. And what a goddamn tragedy it would be if she just did that.

She also supposes that she is a pretty strong swimmer and pretty okayish on a boat, so she she should probably come and lend her skills to the endeavor. Maybe try to make sure none of her kids drown to death wrestling a giant eel, or whatever the hell it is they're supposed to be doing.

They'd have to find the damn thing first though, wouldn't they.

In the meantime, she's perched on a crate thinking about how fucking hot she is in her robes. ]

( Think we're gonna have any fuckin' high seas skullduggery today? )

ii.
[ Oh hey, look. They actually caught the fucking thing... She's bruised and soaked from the effort, but satisfied with it. Maybe, she guesses. She wouldn't want to admit that out loud and actually have to deal with Noct's self-satisfaction. ]

( We better eat this bastard and not just mount it or some shit... )

iii.
[ She refuses to go out after the fucking dread cloud this time. It had been a wasted trip the first time, just nightmarish bullshit making every sweaty and delirious with anxiety. No thanks. She watches others filter out of the gathering, that stupid glazed look on their face, and she just pushes more food up under her hood and into her mouth. ]

Fucking idiots...

iv.
[ Back at the Whalsome House... she's probably had enough of everyone's shit. She's hunched over a sketchpad, once Steve Roger's and now hers with him unconscious, and she scribbles in it irritably. Come by, maybe she's drawing some imagery she picked up off of you. ]

v.
[ wildcard, ping me if you need anything. ]

He was bigger.

[ is Seth's critique, followed by faint irritation. The reminder that memories are slipping out of his head despite his best attempts to barricade them in is unwelcome, even if it's just from Annie. She's not harmless, but she's less of a pain in his ass than the rest of this crew. ]

And don't draw that shit. Seeing it once was enough.

[ Unspoken: stay the fuck out, even as he puts down a glass next to her. ]

Skipped out on the show?

[ She looks at him sideways, her expression dull and unhappy. She curls her lip at him when he tells her not to draw whatever the fuck she wants. Then her eyes settle on the glass. Does she want that. Probably. She stops drawing to drink. ]

Which shit show. Today was a shit show. Fuckin' morale at an all time low.

From what I can tell? That bullshit is business as usual.

[ Any chance of the benefit of the doubt has vanished. If it wasn't people losing their shit publicly, it was them bungling plays privately. Amateurs ghosts through his mind. ]

They really get that kid killed with this shit?

[ The guilt is hard to untangle. Seth can't find the truth. His own impression is that they did fuck up and this girl paid for it. But it's probably worth getting a second opinion outside of Richie. ]

[ She rubs her eyes. ]

She got herself killed. She stuck her neck out and it got cut. Would have happened even if we weren't here.

[ Maybe not assuredly, but plenty likely. ]

These fucks are here to decide who gets to kill who best. Whoever the Enemy's lined up with sure doesn't want the whole thing called off because some sparkle eyed twit starts preachin' peace and love.

[ It's coldly logical. Seth knows it should be a comfort, but it doesn't completely dispel the tangle of guilt Seth feels at what happened. How much of that is his and how much of it has seeped in from the others is another fucked up aspect of this situation, but he can only focus on one disaster at a time. ]

You think we have any fucking chance here?

[ Not that Seth has figured out an alternative. It's been made absolutely clear to him that they don't have an option to retreat. So they stick it out, with all these liabilities, and try to scrape a win. Seth was more optimistic about that before realizing he hasn't even seen the full scope of dysfunction in this outfit. ]

I dunno. Every time that fuckin' thing shows up -- [ the dread ] -- it sure doesn't feel like we can do anything about it. But something's stopping it from exposing itself outright, so maybe.

[ She picks up her pencil again, shading around the creature's face in lazy strokes. ]

If we can keep our crazy under control.

[ She's not even excluding herself from that description, but they both know she's definitely thinking about the absurd paranoia Misato and Rust had shown. ]

You and I both know that's not going to happen.

[ Misato's performance and Rust's support was just one more entry in a parade of rookie mistakes Seth had witnessed since he arrived. This is the kind of crew he and Richie would have cut and run from, but they don't get that option here. The lack of escape is pissing Seth off as much as the dysfunction itself. ]

If we pull any of this shit off it's going to be pure fucking luck. From what I can tell, that's how everything happens.

[ Adjust if you must, but you stick to the plan, Stan, rattles loose in Seth's mind, Eddie's grizzled voice ringing clear for a moment. It's a guiding principle. The slapdash approach this group's taken to everything grinds against it in a way Seth can't help but be appalled by. ]

[ She can feel his frustration, this straightened spine desire for protocol. She knows. She was raised to do... essentially this. The kill, to fight, to subvert, to push an agenda under the surface. That's all Sparrows had ever wanted from them, to take over and infect with her little human guinea pigs.

She frowns, scribbling a little angrier. Why can't she fix this. This is what she's supposed to be built for, why can't she get this fucking mission under control. ]

What do you want me to say?

[ The resources are unreliable, I can't get consistent performance out of anyone, and every move I try to make I get spit at by someone who thinks I'm a fucking heartless murderer. Then the whole team breaks into fucking pieces every time someone dies. ]

[ Seth shrugs. Fuck if he knows what to say. She's been here longer, so she has to know better than him what a complete shitshow this is. And Seth had been prepared to weather it, but then—

Well, then Kate. As usual, her presence changes things. Seth's willing to risk a lot, but not her. Not again. She slots into a different priority set than Richie, and it means the whole game gets upended for him. ]

I don't know know, [ he admits, because nothing she could say changes the ineptitude they've been saddled with. ] Fuck.

[ He's allowed to be pissed, he thinks. Seth thought life was supposed to get easier after shutting the door on the Xibalban takeover. Now he's here, battling a whole other kind of nightmare. It's a raw fucking deal. ]

Talking about this shit isn't getting us anywhere. We need to ditch the dead weight and go to work.

[ Which also isn't going to happen. ]

I think we should just own up to Casiria.

[ Said without looking up. ]

Hoods off, the full business. If she flips out, we wipe her. Kill her. Whatever.

That's the kind of play no one here is going to go for.

[ Though Seth isn't actually shutting it down. ]

You think drafting her in is going to get us any closer to pinning down the mark? She might not know shit.

[ She knows that, and that's why she hasn't voiced it to anyone else, but he had come and talked to her, so here. She goes. ]

I think we need an insider. We can creep and crawl all we fuckin' want and we're never gonna get it half as well as an actual Rabo. She's connected, and she has some skin in the game.

[ Seth slouches further in his chair, contemplating as he tips his nearly-empty glass from side to side. ]

She could still back out.

[ Which is the sticking point. If she doesn't freak out, she could still fuck them over. ]

You're not wrong, it's just...

[ Lacking security. ]

Either put someone on her detail, or bug her. Let her know we hear and see everything she does. You not know how to threaten somebody?

[ She smiles up at him, a tired and mean spirited little goblin grin. ]

[ Seth's answering smirk edges on vicious, thinking about walking into a bank with a gun in hand and seeing everyone scatter. But that effect's hard to replicate here. ]

The burlap sack screws up the effect.

[ In more ways than one. ]

( You busy? ) [ wedges into the back of Richie's head, needling for his attention. ]

[Seth never needs to call twice. Richard's attention turns like the flick of an eye to their direction, immediate and clear. The edges of Seth's mood seeps into him like smoke, no resistance to it, a sensation like the pad of a thumb brushing over the edge of a knife echoing back.]

( What are you thinking? )

( You can't tell? )

[ So irritably. ]

( Come over. Annie's pitching us something. )

[ Because of course there's an "us." ]

[Annie. His interest piques, double-edged: Annie's proven herself more useful than most of the idiots here, but she's also shown no signs of being likely to pitch anything. He'd earmarked her for taking orders, not giving them, but that didn't mean she couldn't have a good idea, and he's there soon enough, silent and expectant at Seth's shoulder.]

[ She looks up at the approach of the second numbskull. She was pretty sure neither of these guys liked her, and now she's just kind of... suspicious. Curious-suspicious. ]

What, you actually want him to hear my bullshit?

[ The Annie creedo: No one listens to me; no one should ever listen to me. ]

We're here, aren't we?

[ Compared to the bullshit display happening in the barracks, this was a step up. Seth would take it. ]

She thinks we need an inside man.

[ Is the nudge Seth gives, the bare bones of what Annie had proposed without considering the risks of actually disrobing. Seth would rather find a way to do this whole thing without that, but he doesn't see a clear way to make it happen. ]

Inside what, the envoys?

[Incredulity already hardening the edges of his words, a pretty clear indication of how much good faith he's got for whatever workings they might have been discussing for the how of doing this.]

Like... literally any actual member of the Rabo-race.

[ She looks down back at her drawing, it's done, at this point she is mostly just scribbling over top of it. It's not like she does art because she has some need to keep things pristine... ]

We got enough resources, we could keep one dumb bitch under control.

[ Seth's attention pings from Annie over to Richie, waiting and watching as the idea lands. It's clear that Richie's reaction is going to be the make or break for Seth. It all tips on what his brother thinks. ]

[There's a beat of consideration. It's short. That's how long it takes for him to find so many cracks in the idea that they aren't even worth raising as individual issues for discussion. He just turns to Seth, blunt, unimpressed that he'd dragged him over here for this.]

She's right. It's bullshit.

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[mission: hyrypia] big, but not coarse - merely on another scale

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