onemind: (Default)
THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] station722018-02-24 10:52 pm

[hatch log] the sea seemingly a constant to the naked eye is one long goodbye

CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: Station 72; Hyrypia - The Far Shore
WHEN: DAY :041 - DAY :042
SUMMARY: A hatch; an arrival; a homecoming. The Hosts part ways.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!





STATION 72
DAY :041

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.



DECISIONS, DECISIONS

BARELY AFTER YOU STEP OUT OF YOUR POD someone pokes their head around the corner and says, “Oh good, you’re awake. D’you have any idea how boring it is to watch people sleeping in tubes? Mind-numbing.”

This...person looks more or less like a normal human, as far as you can tell, and they’re gesturing for you to follow. “I’m Ty, nice to meet you, I’ll be your conductor this--” they pause, squint, count on their fingers, then give up trying to figure out what time it actually is. “--Mevening? Aftermorn? Whatever. I wasn’t supposed to be on orientation duty more than once but here I am, fresh with instructions to answer questions better.”

Ty’s dark eyes appraise you as if judging your outfit, then xe raises xyr eyebrow. “First up, the bathroom’s over there. Second, don’t mind the noise in your head. You get used to it. Third, are you going on the field trip or not?”



THE STATION

WITH A LITTLE UNDER 24 HOURS before the ship makes its way to Hyrypia, now might be a good opportunity to familiarize yourself with Station 72-- either before you leave it or in preparation of finding yourself sharing it with a gaggle of strangers. Better claim your bed early.

The savviest eyes will note that a number of rooms in the Living Quarters show clear signs of having been inhabited at some point; however, there's a fine patina of stillness or stasis in those places. If this place was one where dust might gather, there might be a layer of it here. Exactly how long has it been since this last group of Hosts left for their Mission again?

Come the simulated morning, a strange slate colored craft resembling folded origami more than a ship waits in the Hangar. A small, bird-like woman attends to it and when the time is right she climbs into the cockpit, cheerfully inviting anyone who wants to go to the planet to ride along with her. Then it too leaves the Station and for a time the quiet left in its wake is very dense indeed.


HYRYPIA - THE FAR SHORE
DAY :042


A SHIP TO SHORE

THE SUN IS HIGH IN THE SKY before the first calls of the sailors can be heard heralding the shore in the distance. It isn’t long after that they get close enough that the passengers - the remaining members of the Envoy and their Hyrypian hosts (a thinning herd, it seems) - are encouraged to begin preparing themselves to disembark. It’s a messy process. Unlike the docks they boarded on, this place has no permanent mooring. Instead temporary docks are brought out from the ship itself, anchored in place by small vessels that swarm around it in the water as small fish around a shark. By the time the maneuver is complete and the passengers are packed, the afternoon is threatening to turn into evening. Still, there's enough light to see by as they are led down the ramps and the docks and out onto the loose, grey stones that make up the shore.

Where the Red Coast had been tall cliffs and sand, the Far Shore is formed of pebbles and small stones dotted with driftwood. It’s grey and bleak, a single path heading up the nearby low hills, covered in short greyish yellow scrub and lichen. This place is draped with an overcast sky, the clouds churning and wind gusting, the air cool and dry. In the distance a chain of mountains scrapes the sky, but there’s a quite a bit of distance between here and there. For now, the immediate task at hand is getting the caravan rolling along the rocky, pitted path through the lonely, hushed landscape. Wind hums through the hills, a mournful crying sound.

SHIFTING ODDS

WHEN CAMP IS FINALLY MADE each Envoy is encouraged to quickly pitch their tents and then summarily herded into them. The Morran apparently want to avoid any more murders in the dark. In what is almost certainly a rarity, this means the Hosts all find themselves sharing each other's company around a single brazier in their largest tents - raw meats, vegetables, a hearty broth and a large copper bowl have been provided by the Morran, but it's up to each envoy to prepare and cook their own meals tonight.

Maybe it's a dour evening - after all bonds will be broken once the ship arrives and some of your number make their way back to the Station; however, it certainly takes a turn for the positively grim when a large number of Hosts suddenly fall comatose at the exact moment Cathaway's ship pierces into the universe.

TWO ROADS DIVERGED

RENDEZVOUSING IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT has suddenly became more complicated. What was once an easy hike out of camp to meet with Cathaway's stealth ship now suddenly requires the movement of quite a few comatose Hosts (Rhan, for one, seems exceptionally distressed over the complication).

The comatose Hosts will have to be secreted away from camp to connect with the ship from the Station hidden in hills. Once there, it's time to make introductions, to say your goodbyes, and to wish others all the best. It may be some time before you see one another again.







((OOC Notes: This log covers the hatch on Day :041 and the arrival and/or retreat of Hosts on Day :042. As a reminder, please chime in on the OOC HEADCOUNT going on to indicate whether your character is staying on Hyrypia or on the Station. Please see THIS POST for breakdown on how recent drops are being handled.

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!))





greentech: (hacking intensifies)

[personal profile] greentech 2018-02-28 04:07 am (UTC)(link)
"Right. What about crosses? Or silver? Or garlic? Do you hate pizza?"

Two can play at this game - because she can absolutely be that irritating person who asks a million questions without waiting for an answer. And she's going to be, because Damon already ticked her off a little and she feels no compunction about being rude (not that she's ever really felt much compunction about being blunt, but there you go).

"Do you have to count rice? What about being invited into a home?"
blooded: ᴀʟʟ ɪᴄᴏɴs ʙʏ SHITHOUSE. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ. (Default)

[personal profile] blooded 2018-02-28 04:25 am (UTC)(link)
Well, see, now Damon is faced with a choice — does he go for genuinely informative, or does he bullshit completely?

...as if there was ever a question.

"Deadly. Kills werewolves. Totally gross."

Considering Damon wouldn't give away whether or not sunlight burns him, maaaaaybe taking these answers at face value would be a bad idea. Maybe.

"Yeah, it's a pain. No, that one's a myth."

Damon Trollvatore, at your service.
greentech: (the smuggest of lords)

[personal profile] greentech 2018-02-28 04:39 am (UTC)(link)
Pidge isn't entirely taking it at face value, but she is definitely noting those answers for later. If only so she can actually test some of them. One day soon Damon may find himself being showered with rice, solely because Pidge wants to test a theory. In the meantime, though...

"What about mirrors? Can you not see yourself or is that one also a myth?"

She cocks her head, one eyebrow arched.
blooded: ᴀʟʟ ɪᴄᴏɴs ʙʏ SHITHOUSE. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ. (Default)

[personal profile] blooded 2018-02-28 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
Okay, that one's genuinely harmless, and telling the truth also means he gets to snark.

"You think I could stay this hot if I couldn't see my reflection? Please."

If she dumps rice on his head she's getting tackled and told on to Sam. ...actually no, she's not, he'd think that was hilarious. Maybe he didn't think these blatant lies through well enough...
greentech: (easy listening)

[personal profile] greentech 2018-02-28 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Sometimes vampires are just naturally charismatic or pretty or whatever. I don't know."

Pidge shrugs. She really has no idea about vampires, aside from her own stupid love of science fiction and fantasy stories, so this is really just fascinating to her. She adjusts her glasses and arches a brow.

"Then again, I guess fixing bedhead would be a pain in the butt, huh?"
blooded: ᴀʟʟ ɪᴄᴏɴs ʙʏ SHITHOUSE. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ. (Default)

[personal profile] blooded 2018-02-28 05:02 am (UTC)(link)
"If you'd met my brother you'd know how ridiculous that question was."

Stefan and his hero hair — so much gel goes into that kid's hair every day, it's ridiculous. In fact — Damon reaches out for Pidge's mental link with his own, opening up just enough to show her an image of his brother, in all his gelled-up glory.

"Does that look like the kind of guy who can't see himself in a mirror to you?"
greentech: (Green Lion)

[personal profile] greentech 2018-02-28 05:09 am (UTC)(link)
"I don't know. Not like I spend that much time in front of a mirror myself..." Pidge shrugs. She's... a little messy around the edges. This is a kid who definitely doesn't care too much about personal appearance. Even if she makes a minimum effort.

Then again-

"But fine, I get it, you guys can see yourselves just fine in mirrors. Good to know. Next question-"

She holds up a finger.

"Can you shape-shift?"
blooded: ᴀʟʟ ɪᴄᴏɴs ʙʏ SHITHOUSE. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ. (Default)

[personal profile] blooded 2018-02-28 05:40 am (UTC)(link)
Pidge. Pidge you've ruined his joke! How can you not see how stupid that hair is??? Why are you so opposed to humor, Pidge.

Betrayed, Damon — well, for lack of a better word, he pouts. He'll show Sam, Sam will laugh, Sam always laughs when he makes fun of Stefan.

"No. We're vampires, not werewolves."

You've taken the fun out of this, Pidge. Taken the wind out of Damon's sails.
greentech: (eager beaver)

[personal profile] greentech 2018-02-28 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
That's Pidge. Professional kill-joy. Well, sometimes anyway. She's enjoying barraging him with questions for the moment and it's providing a welcome distraction from the prospect of the crew splitting up, so she's focusing on that instead of Damon's sense of humor.

"Dracula could turn into a wolf. I'm just saying."

Look, she's ready fantasy. She knows how this works.

"But if you can't, you can't."
blooded: ᴀʟʟ ɪᴄᴏɴs ʙʏ SHITHOUSE. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ. (Default)

[personal profile] blooded 2018-02-28 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
"Dracula was a fictional moron who hated running water. He is not what you should imagine when you think vampire."

Bram Stoker was more on it than Stephenie Meyer, granted, but no one's ever gotten it entirely right. No one really could — Damon doesn't know any vampire but the Originals who might know the actual origins of the species, and even them he's not sure how much they know. Anyone writing sexy vampire fiction was inevitably going to get something wrong.
greentech: (hacking intensifies)

[personal profile] greentech 2018-02-28 05:27 pm (UTC)(link)
"I guess I'll think of you, now," Pidge responds with only a hint of dry sarcasm. Good job, Damon. Now they can snipe at each other about vampirism.

"Which sucks, because I really liked Castlevania."
blooded: ᴀʟʟ ɪᴄᴏɴs ʙʏ SHITHOUSE. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ. (Default)

[personal profile] blooded 2018-02-28 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"The fuck's Castlevania."

Damon sounds about as dry and disinterested as it's possible to sound. He can play video games. He can play them very well, in fact, because his quick reflexes mean he can react to things on the spot, even if he has no technical skill or interest in them. Damon does not play video games, generally, finding them a waste of time.
greentech: (o)

[personal profile] greentech 2018-02-28 10:59 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's a video game. Really retro, actually-"

He gets a brief mental splash of tinny music and shitty graphics, but there's a certain nostalgiac charm to it all. Lots of platforming.

"You play a vampire hunter and you have to fight Dracula and it's kinda cool, actually."

Yes, a game about hunting vampires. That should go over well.