station72 | [HATCH LOG] IS ANYONE THERE?

Entry tags:

[HATCH LOG] IS ANYONE THERE?

CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: Station 72
WHEN: Day :150
SUMMARY: Today is the day you wake up.
WARNINGS: None; will edit if necessary.

A MOMENT AGO it seemed like you willingly took the hand of someone beckoning to safety.

NOW YOU WAKE UP in one of many chambers of Station 72’s nesting deck. If you had wounds, they’re (mostly) gone; if you had doubts they are - for the split second between dreaming and waking - gently reassured. This is correct. This is right. You’re safe here. The only question is what here is exactly.

The compartment you find yourself in is small, though gently padded for comfort with enough elbow and head -room to not be wholly claustrophobic. Still, it’s difficult to re-orient yourself; the best way to get to the chamber’s built in ladder and down to the smooth, polished white floor of the nesting is to simply roll over onto your belly and go out feet first.

First thing’s first though: get rid of that tube running from the rear wall of the chamber to the base of your skull. The moment you’ve done that, there’s the sensation like a rubber band popping - a string in your hand being jerked. The headache that punches in falls like the heavy end of a hammer - not serious, but surprisingly abrupt - as a of combination confusion, resolve, anxiety, certainty, delight, and fear and expectation finds you. In fades after a moment, churning to a low dull pressure and a faint hum. It’s feels like standing outside the door of a small party, sounds muffled and incomprehensible. Some pieces rise and swell above the others then fall again. Strain your ears and realize you’re hearing nothing at all.

On the plus side, you’re not hooked into the compartment anymore. Slide out and onto the ladder, though not too fast or you’ll miss the small cubicle built into the wall near the mouth of the chamber. In the cubicle are all the things you brought with you, every small piece you own of the home you left behind. There’s a neatly folded pair of something like white pajamas there as well. They’re definitely in your size, though you have the option not to wear them since you’re still in the clothes you left home in. Granted, for some of you that might not exactly be a blessing. Your clothes haven’t exactly been laundered or repaired, so best hope you didn’t bleed or sweat on them too much during your escape.

Sliding free from the chamber pod and stepping out onto the ladder, you’ll find yourself in an open space. The room is broad and pale and clean, its sloping walls featuring dozens and dozens of holes like the one you just wiggled out of. There are more ladders and a few other people climbing down, or stareing, or already down on the nesting deck’s floor but the sixteen - seventeen, including yourself - people present would hardly fill even a sixth of the room’s available accommodations.

The noise is louder when you near any of the others. It’s as if you've entered the party yourself. Identifiable now is the low wash of feelings, a hum of emotions that only serves to make the slight headache worsen. They feel genuine. They feel like they could belong to you. Still, that pressure in your head doesn't worry you --Shouldn't it worry you? Does worrying - about the headache, about the world and people you left behind, or the strange place you’re in now, the odd collection of people you’re with and the fact that you feel strangely drawn to five or six of them - make the headache better? Or worse?

If you manage to push the sound aside and listen with your true ears, you'd notice you can't hear anything besides this small group of fellow hosts: their footsteps, their oddly sharp breathing. There’s no sound of traffic, no wind in the trees, no birds, no hum of a ship. Only circulating air and silence.

You may not know what a brood is, but finding yours is easy. There are minds among these strangers that call to yours, their voices louder than the rest, their feelings sharper. The nearer to you they are, the more comfortable you feel. Is that strange? You don't know them, but you do. There are few answers to be found on the nesting deck.

Eventually you will have no choice but to head out of the room. There’s only one way out that you can see: up through a spiraling hallway that arches overhead. When it opens again the space seems slightly less alien. There are doorways of a kind lining the walls and each one opens to a small, nearly normal room. There are no doors, so it's easy to see all the rooms are vacant. In seventeen of them there are items neatly stacked on the bed. Most are hygiene supplies. Some of them - a toothbrush, comb, razor - may be familiar to you. Others less so. There's a flat horizontal ledge beside the bed with a small light and a single drawer. Another table, apparently built into the wall, sits across the room with a chair. A mirror is on the desk; it’s slightly mundane and not quite to the Station’s style.

This room is yours for the moment. It doesn't mean someone won't want to trade - or take. Beyond this life support deck stretches the rest of Station 72. It is quiet and and twisting and perfectly inert.

At its most familiar, the Station is merely a still, empty ship with broad chambers and gently mottled light. At its worst, it’s an Escher painting of strange angles and bizarre platforms that seems grown as much as built. There are many ways to many places and while it seems all doors and passages open to you, there’s an unshakeable feeling that the space doesn’t quite match up - that there’s even more to the Station which you can’t yet see. Don’t get lost!

For now, you reach the floor of the nesting deck. When you do, something blooms in your mind. A voice, disturbingly lacking any identifying traits but warm and comfortable like sweetened milk, says:

( ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬...There you are...▬▬▬..Welcome to Station 72 ▬▬. )

If you follow the thread of that voice, you’ll eventually find your way either to Cathaway on the bridge or The Prince in the training wing.

((OOC Notes: Welcome to Station 72! Feel free to check out the SETTINGS page for more information about the Station. If you have any questions about the setting itself, feel free to ask them there; otherwise, please direct all questions to either the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages.

~~Prince’s top level should be live in the evening! Keep an eye out for it if you want him to give your character the introduction spiel instead of Cathaway.~~

Happy hatchday, everyone! :) ))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

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[The thoughts and emotions that come with Lexa's rationalization process are irritating -- hard to block out. Frankly, its a breech of privacy that Ahsoka has no interest in engaging in, even with her vast well of curiosity. Her broodmate may get that feeling as she lowers her hands.]

Yes. That seems to be the case for all of us.

[A pause. Again, she thinks of what potentially happened to Coruscant after she had been rescued. What happened to Anakin--what happened to this girl's home. It feels right to say:]

I'm sorry. That's probably not what you want to hear.

Stop apologizing. [It sounds empty. It sounds weak. Lexa leans on this demand more than anything, because she's still gathering the rest of her thoughts. The fact that Ahsoka has ... transmitted discomfort with her thought process leads her to pulling away from it. She'll have to be swifter with what she says.

The good thing is that she's adaptable. She'll reveal less of herself if she doesn't go through the process. By now, Lexa knows she can trust her instincts (even if some of her instincts involve trying to shave away the soft edges from people around her ...).]

I'm not interested in reassurances. If we've all been attacked, that means we all have people to return to. We should be certain our circumstances align. We may be able to find ... [What's the word? "Hope" is what Clarke would use. "Hope" is not what Lexa would use.] ... idea, clear or otherwise, of what we've left behind.

[Ahsoka doesn't need much when it comes to chipping away at her patience, considering there was never much to begin with. To have Lexa bite back at her makes her expression go from sympathetic, to confused, then to flat.

She wants to be a hardass? Fine.]

Look lady, I don't know what kind of attack you saw -- but what I saw...

[She inhales slowly to gather herself. If there was even a chance she could have fought back, she would have. But--]

Survival wasn't an option.

[There's a reason why Lexa doesn't leap to thoughts of hope, and Ahsoka's answer is precisely why. Of course, she isn't a stranger to it, and Clarke has even instilled the idea inside of her that it might be possible—even to the point where Lexa has mentioned it to Clarke herself in order to ground her, to make her look forward—but she still comes from a world where survival comes first. It has crossed her mind that the attack continued in the wake of her absence. It has, but things would have been very different in Polis if it had been ... utterly hopeless upon her escape.

(She might have risked dying, if that were the case.)]

It wasn't an all-out massacre. They knew who they were seeking. [With Lexa. With Clarke.

She doesn't specify, though.]

[There would be others. There was nothing protecting the people if their absence hadn't chased the threat away. She doesn't say it out loud -- that sort of negativity had no place among the jedi.

Even if she wasn't among them any longer.]

Maybe. But like I said, I'm not here to cause trouble. There's enough of that in the universe already.

[The last thing she wants to do is cause more trouble.]

Having a difference of experience isn't causing trouble. [No matter how reasonable these words may be, Lexa still sounds as if she's rebuking her. That unusual push and pull balance is still in place, like she's attempting to both be diplomatic and callous at the same time.

Then again, "attempting" isn't the right word. Is happens to be the correct word.]

Since we're here, it's a good idea to have a set of information that we can look at and see if it lines up with who brought us here. [Carefully, she avoids the word "captors."]

I was talking about you.

[Ahsoka musters the most deadpan look she's capable of and sighs out of her nose. If nothing else, she doesn't have a weapon pointed at her anymore, but the tone of voice Lexa has chosen leaves much to be desired.

She only tolerated a few people talking to her like that. Most of them were no longer on that list.]

But fine. I'll bite. What do you want to know?

[She levels her gaze at Ahsoka at the first part, but doesn't comment on it. She's already decided that Ahsoka has no need to go back on her word. It isn't really in Lexa's vocabulary to ask for someone to repeat themselves to reassure her. Actions speak volumes in her society, and Ahsoka hasn't given her any reason to think differently.]

Are you drawn to me the same way I am to you?

[To that, Ahsoka doesn't answer right away. She had been encountering all sorts of strange voices in her head but -- yes, this girl feels more clear. Its uncomfortable, given how quick she had been to turn a weapon on her.

Another sigh comes from her nose.]

I...guess so? Its hard for me to describe.

[She looks up again and studies Lexa's face in a thoughtful and almost concerned manner.]

I feel as if...we already know each other. But I am certain we have not met before now. I'm pretty good with names.

There's no one from my world who looks like you. Anything like you. [The words come with a measure of discomfort that radiates off of her. Her people are not always the kindest to things that they don't know or understand. But here, Lexa is battling with an extra layer of that: it's exactly as Ahsoka has described. They both know each other, and they don't.]

So, we've never met before. But the feeling of familiarity is there. [There's a beat.] My name is Lexa.

Edited 2016-03-20 06:17 (UTC)

Ahsoka Tano.

[The revelation that she's never seen togruta before doesn't seem to bother her. After all, her people weren't exactly a robust species, and they were confined to their own worlds for the most part. Excluding those who would go on to become jedi.

Like her, once.]

Don't worry. They seem to like humans here.

I've noticed. Does it bother you to be outnumbered? [Lexa asks partly because she doesn't seem to be bothered. She hopes Ahsoka will explain why. Does she know humans well, and how did she come to have her appearance, humanoid yet clearly not human? There are a lot of questions that surface in her mind because of the connection, quick and curious, showing the youth apparent underneath Lexa's demanding outward appearance.]

[All the internal questions cause Ahsoka to smile kindly, but she already feels oddly being able to hear everything before it's asked. It's invasive. She can't wait to turn it off.

But she did ask one question that she could answer. And she does so with a gentle shake of her head that makes her lekku bounce.]

Humans dominate the galaxy as it is. They seem to reproduce far faster than most other galactic races. My people do not venture far beyond the motherworld.

[Ahsoka finds a comfortable spot on the wall to lean against while she is talking, shifting until she is situated properly to talk to Lexa without appearing too relaxed.]

I was raised on Coruscant. My master was human. It's normal.

[There's a hint of indignation that immediately flares up between them. It doesn't seem like it has a place in the current conversation, especially given Lexa's previous emotions: the thought that humans could dominate a galaxy is bewildering to her. Though her people number in the thousands, they are still few compared to what once lived on the planet. And even then, they haven't done well in recovering, partly because of their willingness to shed one another's blood.

She knows there was a world before that ran rampant with people, but it's different now.

The term "motherworld" is just as confusing for her, and the name "Coruscant" clearly doesn't ring any bells.

Lexa would have been content to continue their conversation, but the usage of the word "master" sets her off. Though they have similar mentor and apprentice relationships among her people, the word "master" is not thrown around. Not like that.]

How is it normal? Explain this arrangement with your Master. [She'll feel rather foolish when she realizes that she's reacted poorly because of her relationship with the self-righteous and dominating Mountain Men. But she doesn't know yet.]

[Lexa's mind is an incredibly confusing one, and frankly, its one Ahsoka wants no part of. But she has no control over the flow of thoughts presently, so all she can do is stubbornly shake her head in an attempt to block it all out.

She's been trained not to lash out at the emotionally unstable, but her patience is very clearly wearing thin. Again, she exhales to center herself, but is unable to keep the bite out of her tone when she opts to press Ahsoka with a such accusatory tone.

If she hadn't projected so much confusion related to her being togruta, she might have been insulted. Bitterly:]

You could try asking. I was an apprentice, and he was my teacher.

[That she's wearing at Ahsoka's patience is obvious. To some degree, there's a hint of interest there, but it lies underneath her understanding that she's made a mistake here in what she knows. There's a huff of breath, an acknowledgement of that, and she nods.]

You sounded as if you were too compliant. [To ask. It's not a defense. Lexa isn't interested in defending herself.

She considers adding more, but decides not to. That decision is made because she wants to see how Ahsoka reacts. She could tell her that she has a similar arrangement with others back home, where she's either been the mentor or the second, but that isn't something she's interested in offering.

It's funny how her usual inclinations can change, all to see where her interest leads her.]

Too compliant?

[This time, Ahsoka scoffs. She can't help it -- its easy enough to put two and two together without Lexa spelling it out for her. After all, she was togruta. Slavery wasn't unheard of for her kind, and on more than one occasion, she had played servant for one person or another for the sake of convenience.]

I have a very very long list of people who'd love to disagree with you. Even if that were the case, which--trust me, is far from it--my career choices aren't any of your business. You don't even know me.

[Ahsoka folds her arms and gives Lexa a very careful look. Slavery was outlawed in the Republic, and that wasn't going to chance anytime soon.]

Those who are in servitude to others often don't choose that path. It's forced upon them. [There's a hint of irritation, and it's clear that she had been demanding out of a place of sympathy. Too many of her men were turned into monsters by the Mountain Men, cannibals who were unable to think or act on their own behalf.]

But if this is a matter of knowledge, we're in the same boat. Neither of us knows the other. [It feels important to point this out. Lexa feel contempt toward the connection between them, and she feels as if she has to defy it in some way.]

I never would have guessed!

[This time, Ahsoka snaps her response outward, losing her temper momentarily. As if she were ignorant to such ideas. The entirety of the People had fallen victim to the Zygerrian Empire and had been forced into servitude. She had needed to play the roll of an alien handmaiden more than once for the sake on convenience.

But the tide of indignation is born of her youth and defensive nature, and she takes a moment to remember Lexa's intention. Her tone calms and quiets, eyelids lowering.]

Its in the past anyway. That's all that matters.

[Her way of closing off discussion about it. She doesn't want to think about Anakin. Or the Jedi Order.]

[The whipping of emotions is enough to force Lexa to steel herself. Her feet plant firmly into the ground, and her eyebrows furrow together as she tries to maintain some sense of neutrality. The truth is: she's been angry. She's been frustrated. Feeling it from an outside force feels both natural and not, and she hates it. The answer? To erase that feeling, to decisively cut it away.

She thinks to call her in what she assumes is a lie. To say it's all in the past isn't necessarily true. No one can say that without considering other factors.

Lexa has learned the hardship of this better than anyone.]

Then what lies in your future? [The question has an edge to it because of the emotion that's risen between them. She's frustrated because it's not intended, or intentional, but there's no changing its appearance now.]

The future is always in motion.

[She recites it, a lesson clearly taught to her by someone else. A very old, short little green someone else. A someone else she also doesn't want to think about.

And its very suddenly apparent to her that she can't escape any of it, because the Jedi Order was all she had ever known. And it had been taken from her like everything else the war had claimed.]

It can't always be predicted.

Edited 2016-03-29 21:51 (UTC)

I'm not asking for what you predict will happen. [There's a hint of frustration with this statement. Here, Lexa realizes that she owes her people nothing but the lack of her presence. Here, she has to survive long enough to stop the threat that hangs over their head, all to ensure that she can return (all to offer them the chip sitting in the back of her neck). The spirit of the Commander belongs to her people.

It must be returned eventually.]

I'm asking what you want to happen. You are an agent in deciding that.

[Ahsoka's stare is hard -- there's a resistance somewhere in her chest, like she should know the answer to Lexa's question. But she doesn't. There is no answer. Hours ago, she had been preparing for the worst -- not because she hadn't believed in her Master to find the truth, but because other people would prevent him from getting the truth out in time.]

I--don't know.

[Everything about her future was uncertain. Everything she had ever known, thrown into chaos, and then consumed by even more chaos. She's still reeling from it all.]

How can you even ask a question like that with what's going on?

I'm the Commander of my people. If I can't make decisions in times of strife, then I've failed them.

[She is both a politician and a warrior. Her answer comes easily, readily, though she hates that there are so many emotions muddling her mindset right now. Some of them are her own, and some belong to the people around her. It isn't only Ahsoka (though her doubt creeps in, somehow, making Lexa question herself, however briefly), but others.

It frustrates her. It's not an existence she'd ever accept willingly. And perhaps in that, she's trying to exert control—both over herself, and for others to exert it as well. If they do that, it can help, correct?

To her mind, it makes sense.]

You don't need to answer now. But it's something you should consider in the future.

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[HATCH LOG] IS ANYONE THERE?

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