[mission: hyrypia] the mountain seems no more a soulless thing

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: Hyrypian Team
WHERE: Hyrypia - Mount Mideria
WHEN: DAY :044 - DAY :045
SUMMARY: The Pilgrimage arrives at a base camp. A letter is delivered. The ascent begins.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

HYRYPIA - MOUNT MIDERIA
DAY :044

THE BASE CAMP
THE WIND HOWLS through the valley at the base of the mountain. The chill nips at the heels of the Pilgrimage for the entirety of the slow, winding climb through the jagged foothills to the slash where the base camp sits tucked back into the looming mountain's dark face. It's dim here, but at least the wind doesn't cut so as the envoys are led into the heart of the bedraggled seasonal outpost.

The small town nestled in the cool grey stone seems as much a part of the mountain itself as Rabadocean made. The buildings are low and broad, as so much of their architecture is, but unlike many of the other places they have been the spaces between buildings are narrow, and the buildings themselves are quite small (the better to insulate). The buildings are clustered into ‘U’ shapes, with a central fire pit in each one that heats the rest. It seems quite old and in fairly good repair, but there’s a little-lived in feeling to the whole place. Dust can be found in the corners and crevices, and there’s little personalization anywhere. As it turns out, the camp is not occupied at all times, and no one lives here permanently. It is only filled as it is now on occasion, and while the Morran servants and household members seem quite familiar with the place they seem to be passing through.

One of the Morran which led the party from the coastline, through the foothills, and finally to this overcrowded interior courtyard, climbs onto one of the low stone retaining walls. She raises her hand to cue the muted blast of that now familiar horn. When she speaks, her voice is amplified by the technomanced clasp of her heavy fur cowl.

"Welcome, friends. My name is Lysan Morran and you have my gratitude for a peaceful journey since we left the Red Coast." She seems young, though serious - her dark hair twisted into a heavy plait. "We'll be staying in the place for one night only, and then will begin our ascent up the mountain. I have heard that you've faced many dangerous things in your time here on Hyrypia, but this trial before us will be the most dangerous of them all. The conditions on the mountain are cold, the nights are dark, and the peak is no place for division. Tomorrow, and for some days after, this mountain is our enemy. With that in mind, I invite anyone who prefers to take the long way around with the baggage to do so. I would wish you well and hope to see you again in six days' time.

"Tonight, each envoy will have their own house here and a delegate of my house will attend to each lodge to see to it that anyone who wishes to make the climb is given equipment and supplies to do so. Tomorrow, we go."

With a curt nod, Lysan Morran then lowers hand hand and hops down from the wall. She and her retinue evaporate into the tangle of the base camp's close stone structures, leaving the rest of House Morran's servants to show the separate envoys to their houses.

Each envoy is instructed to keep their belongings packed - anything that isn't strictly necessary for survival will be transported around the mountain alongside anyone who doesn't want to make the climb. Every participating individual will be outfitted with an individual tent, and individual, highly insulated sleeping bag, a parka, extra gloves, goggles, a number of spikes, axes, ropes, and raked hooks to attach to their shoes to assist in the higher climb. They will also have to pack in their own food, clothes, and water, as there are few beasts who will be able to accompany them for the entirety of the climb.


A MESSAGE IN THE DARK
IT ISN'T SLIPPED BENEATH THE DOOR. No, it's brought in a box carried under the arm of a Meradan musician who arrives in the company of her band. They are all wrapped in heavy furs and beautifully embroidered cloaks, bemoaning the cold in good spirits as they insist on visiting their good friend, Gildor. They stay for an hour, have a short jam session, admit they personally have no intention of climbing the mountain but that they wish the Carbauschians and the Meradans mad enough to do it all the best, and then they take their leave: "We should be gone before someone suspects of us murder," one of them jokes (poorly).

The box is left behind.

Inside the box is a lovely, seafoam green cloak in a rough approximation of Carbauschian style embroidered with a rich red thread. When unfolded, a letter addressed to Misato falls from it. It reads:

Thank you again for your kind and thoughtful gift. I've found great use for it here and thought I might at last return the favor. Please convey to your companions that my thoughts are with you and that I look forward to working together during the task that lies ahead of us tomorrow. I seem to recall an earlier conversation that I would very much like to continue given the opportunity.

Best Regards,
Ser Ilya Mor

ONWARDS AND UPWARDS
COME MORNING, DARKNESS LINGERS. The sun rises behind the mountain, and very little of its light reaches inside the gap to the base camp. The air is cold and sharp and warns for the days to follow as it cuts down from the mountaintop to the valley below.

The Pilgrimage that assembles in the early gray light is a radically reduced one. Many of the smaller, less key envoys who had attended for their own varied reasons choose not to go or lose some portion of their contingent. However, almost the entirety of the Descendant, Carpathan, and Meradan envoys seem to be intent on continuing their journey. There are less servants, less guards, but still a healthy contingent from each major envoy buckling on their kits as instructed by the Morran guides.

And then at last, the climb begins. It's tough hiking at first, but surely everyone here is used to being on foot now. The pace is methodical, but patient - the Morran guides are quick to tell anyone in a rush to conserve their energy. There's plenty of mountain ahead, which means the day's climb is punctuated by frequent pauses and a number of small, light meals. Hiking turning into light climbing, traversing intermittent shelves. The cool air turns bitter, the wet damp turns to a dry, chapping cold.

They reach the first true cliff face late in the day. Hand and foot holds run in irregular, jagged guides up its face. Rather than tackle the climb while dark looms, the Morran guides instead insist on making camp in the shale at its bottom. Tents are pitched, portable technomanced heaters are broken out, and meals are eaten as the Hyrypian sun sets, rugged and beautiful, behind the smudged sliver which must be the coastline on the horizon.

But eventually, darkness reaches this place again.

---

((OOC Notes: This log covers the arrival to the Mount Mideria base camp and the climb during the day following. Please refer to the MISSION: HYRYPIA ooc information for a detailed description of this location. 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

rhan | ota (npc)

[isorropia]

NIGHT :044 - INSOMNIA MEME

[Here in the shelter of the mountain crevice where the outpost lies, hidden away in the well insulated lodge, the night wind is just a gentle distant hum. It's warm too, the interior of the stone building heated by the firepit which even now in the dead of night casts dancing shadows in the otherwise darkened shared quarters. Surely most of the few remaining Hosts are asleep - it's been a long journey from the coast and the hike up to just the base camp that afternoon had been strenuous enough.

But Rhan isn't. She sits on the ledge surrounding the fire pit, silently repairing a small hole in her cloak with a needle and thread. Her attention is captured by the fire - or at least,
it appears to be. She's glassy eyed and quiet, stitching with a near mechanical hand. Here in the firelit night, an unmistakable melancholy finds her at last.
It's nipped at her heels since their number parted, but in the shadow of this lonely mountain it finally wraps about her. The sensation of it is as palpable in the room as the scent of burning coals, as the whistle of the wind at the door, as the comfort of a warm bed on a cold night.

Up and down, the needle flashes in the meager illumination from the low burning flames.]

[incinerates]

[ He has a clue, what has Rhan so somber.

It might be the same thing that eats at him, right down int he core of his mind where the symbiote and he have begun to mingle. Those who left in one shape or another might very well outnumber those who've remained. If he cared to count them, he'd know the answer for sure. Something inside of him is sick, heavy with the weight of a murder-suicide. His mind cannot conceptualize it, and it spins dizzily even as Rhan's goes glassy. ]

We'll be all right.

[ The words taste hollow to him, but there's enough in him to spit at the circumstances -- they're just obstacles to surmount. ]

[isorropia]

[So lost in her thoughts, the broken silence makes Rhan start. She jabs her finger through the cloth with the needle's point.]

--Karn. [Spoken sharp like a swear. She draws her hand back and stuffs her finger into her mouth. There's the smallest acrid taste of blood there, but the sting is really the worst of it. After a moment of babying it, she resorts to clenching her fist tight around the digit and laughing. It's a barking, lopsided sound.]

Damn, I hope I didn't give off the impression that I think anything otherwise. All things considered, our position here is much better than I thought it might be a week ago. Progress, eh?

[She winks at him (as if silly things like melancholy and existential dread are some great conspiracy between them).]

[incinerates]

[ He ducks down, folding around layers of cloth and soft coppers, crouching on the ground near to her with his elbows on his knees. Karn, she says, and he catches that it's a curse. Files it away with the other bawdy sea-shanties and sailor curses he'd gleefully learned out on the hunting boats. ]

You were thinking something dark, though. You're such a fuckin' weird read.

[ Listen! He was trying to be all MATURE and REASSURING, and the winking is DETRACTING FROM HIS LEADERLY VIBE. ]

It's easier to move. On the other hand, you can basically count who's left on two hands, which means we're easier to keep an eye on.

[greentech]

Why'd you let people go back?

[ That's Pidge. Always asking questions. Even uncomfortable ones, although she's not one hundred percent sure that this one qualifies as uncomfortable. Their whole group feels diminished now, especially with familiar minds just on the edge of touch. She watches Rhan sew, up and down, up and down.

She kind of wishes she had something to do with her hands herself. ]

Do you believe in those of us who are still here?

[isorropia]

[The needle's flashing pauses in the moment of hesitation, though it's clear from the swampy sensation of Rhan's mind that it isn't a moment of avoiding answering so much as it is just the beat it takes to draw her attention from whatever thoughts live under that muddled surface. She blinks - takes full stock of the girl sharing the warmth of the fire -, then resumes her needlework.]

Of course. If I didn't, we'd have just sent the whole lot of you back to where you came from my darling. No - everyone left is, I'm certain, very sure and sensible indeed. [She makes a soft noise, the yellow frills of her neck flexing from it. Maybe it's a laugh, but it doesn't really feel like one.] It was never a question of capability. --Well. No. That's not true. But I don't think it is anymore. Siva'co might think differently, but he's just an ratty old man that there's simply no pleasing him without reading his mind. We let people go back because we have less ground to cover now and because targeting the Enemy so directly tends to be dangerous work. No sense in having someone along who'd rather not do the job dragging their heels, hm?

[greentech]

[ Swampy. That's a weird sensation to have in your head. Especially because Katie's is all electronics and data and the click-clack of keyboards. Not exactly clean or organized, but modern and always running, running, running. ]

So, we're going to actually get face-to-face with them? Or who ever they have working for them here?

[ She's full of questions. ]

Is there going to be a fight? Or more sneaking around?

[shiro2hero]

You look about how I feel.

[She's not the only one awake when they shouldn't be. Who should be sleeping after the long day behind them. But that air of hers is hard to miss. The way she works on a task without paying attention to anything, really.]

[He can relate.]

[And, as a result, eases to sit down across from her, arms folded over his knees.]

It's weird how quiet it is.

[isorropia]

No it isn't.

[She says it without looking up. The needle flashes up and down and her tone is tinged with a raw, low kind of humor.]

This is normal. What you've gotten used to - all those people around, all those emotions and and so much thinking and feeling being done right at your fingertips? That's the weird part.

[She tips her head to look at him from under her brow.]

Don't like the quiet?

[Ha. It's a joke. One that melts into that sober, gray sensation of her thoughts wreathing the fire.]

[shiro2hero]

[He goes quiet then. Watching her work. Chewing at his lip in thought. With what she says...]

Are you alone?

[Like he is. Alone in his own head now -- maybe that would explain why she felt the sudden incursion of people was the issue. Instead of the opposite.]

I got used to not being alone in my head. Having... certain people here. Or at least, in the back of my mind.

[A shrug.] I thought I liked the quiet.

[redheadcarrier]

A. Long Night

After they part ways and their numbers dwindle, Asuka finds herself feeling more alone than at any time since her arrival. Almost everyone she's come to rely on or to think of as anything more than one of the ignorant, stupid adults who always ignore her has gone. Either returning to the station or simply sucked under by the strange sleep that claims them. Or dead. It feels like they're getting ready for a funeral - maybe their own - and she doesn't quite know how to deal with it.

So she has all of the equipment they've been provided laid out in front of her and she's organizing her own personal stash, going over it piece by piece, brow furrowed in concentration as she counts and re-counts and adjusts spikes on her shoes. She's going to be ready for this. She's going to prove herself (to herself) and nothing is going to slow her down. Not the mountain. Not the doubts in her own head.

And yet she still feels alone and isolated and the crushing weight of it bears down on her and permeates the air around her.


B. Belay On.

The hike has been an adventure all on its own and the physical training she's been doing since her arrival is paying off. That and her own youthful energy. Up and up and up, it feels like there's no end to it and despite her determination, her legs are still feeling the burn of having to carry herself onward and upward, over and over. When they reach their first obstacle, she helps set up camp, but afterward she can be found examining the cliff-face from below, hands on her hips, legs spread, head tilted back as she stares up at the next obstacle in the darkening gloom.

There's something else now. That determination is back.

"We can do this. Easy."

It's more a comment for herself, but maybe it's meant to make anyone standing nearby think she actually has that much confidence.

"Especially if it's light out. How hard can it be?"

C. Wildcard

A.

[incinerates]

The last thing he can remember saying to her was that they could fight about shit later, and now that their numbers have dwindled down to a handful of fucking kids ( the kids he'd absolutely NOT wanted to be here, go figure ) and some adults, he can't figure out when an opportune time would be. There's not. Fighting her is a luxury they don't have, so, as she fidgets with her equipment, he comes to her.

Follows the burning-bright beacon that is her mind.

"You've got a mind for it," he announces and jabs his finger towards the sky, indicating that he means for the climb. "Stubborn. Just don't push hard, you'll kill yourself that way and then we'll all be fucked."

[redheadcarrier]

It really shouldn't surprise her. She should be used to all of the adults running off and forcing the hard decisions on to the next generation. Sadly, she's still disappointed. Somehow. She expected better - and maybe she shouldn't have. She can 'sense' Bakugo before he speaks and she glances up, good eye bright and angry.

It's not actually directed at him, though. It's more the shitty situation that they're stuck in.

"I know how to pace myself. I don't need you to tell me that."

She scowls.

"Shouldn't you be the one worrying about that, Sparky?"

B

[whereabout]

Joshua's posture is far more reserved - his everything is far more reserved than Asuka, really, even if that's not exactly a difficult accomplishment - but there's a confidence in his own stance as he approaches and stops beside her, nonetheless. Not projected or advertised, just...there, an undercurrent to the way he carries himself.

Navigating the emotional connections that bind the nest is something he's sure he'll never really feel comfortable doing, but this?

This is his wheelhouse.

"We've got guides who know the territory. As long as we don't rush and the weather doesn't turn on us, we'll be fine."

[redheadcarrier]

"Right, as long as everything goes to plan. How often does that happen?"

It's a bit of a rhetorical question. A part of her is just being cynical for the sake of being cynical. It's true, they'll probably handle it just fine - but she still doesn't entirely like the thought of it. But it's a challenge. She can overcome it. They'll overcome it. Even if there's so few of them left down here now.

"Shouldn't we just try to get through it as fast as possible, anyway?"

Shiro | ota

[shiro2hero]

1) THE START
[For the most part, Shiro works in silence. He takes the news in, takes the supplies, and starts packing. His mind closed off, his movements short, almost mechanical. Imposing as ever in the heavy black robes he's been wearing this whole mission. But somehow more ... apart than before.]

[The bonds that should be there are either stretched too thin, or empty. Things that should be there, gone. People who should be there, nothing but shadows.]

[Nothing to do but quietly pick up and move on. But should anyone need it, he'll stop to help them pack up, as well.]

You need me to carry that for you?

[What can he do to help?]


2) THE COLD
[For the most part, as the hike continues, his lack of response does too. He keeps reaching out instinctively for people who aren't there to hear any longer. Mentally stumbling. Which is not necessarily a good position to be in for someone hiking through mountains, then climbing up a cliff face.]

[His metal arm is invaluable here. Helping haul himself and anyone else's packs up the more rugged, dangerous parts of the terrain. Still quietly. Only venturing conversation when asking if someone needs assistance.]

[By the time darkness falls, he should be asleep. He should be sacked out and curled up. Instead, he's sitting upright outside the tents, staring upward. Like that's going to somehow manage to breach the distance between them here, and the station above.]

[To anyone else, though, it could be seen as simple stargazing.]

[Fine with him.]


the wildcard;
(( anything else you want? Let's go! ))

2.

[incinerates]

You could have gone with them.

[ You stayed, stop drifting away, his sharp tone commands. Daydreaming and stargazing is nice, but it's only filling him with vague feelings of homesickness, prodding at the gaping holes where the rest of his brood should be. They're far away, only Joshua stayed behind ( good Joshua, who he made a promise to -- the same way he'd promised Bellamy, who was gone now -- ). ]

It's not like we would have held it against you.

[shiro2hero]

[He's a little slow to turn his head to look at Bakugo. Maybe he was actually trying to make contact up there. Actually trying to reach the gaping holes left by the others. For the comatose minds, he knows it's no good. There's no reaching them now.]

Wouldn't you?

[There's something a little wry in the words.]

I don't know if going would have helped, anyway.

[greentech]

You miss him, don't you?

[ It's not really a question. More a statement of fact. They both know what's going on. Even Pidge can feel it - a tug toward her broodmate, who's sitting up there, just outside the universe. A pocket dimension to keep them hidden. And then the rest of them, down here, going through the slog.

It's chilly and she's settled in close to him, gaze a bit distant. She's worn out and tired and exhausted, but still here. Still doing her best. ]

[shiro2hero]

[Her best is more than enough. It's an almost immediate effect. When she settles in beside him, that sense of isolation eases. The feeling of being Alone in more ways than he can name starts to dissipate.]

[One arm loops around her shoulders again, without thinking about it.]

All of them. Elena went up there, too.

2

[whereabout]

[ They should all be asleep, and yet here they are.

It's not like Joshua can judge Shiro, when he's indulging some of the same feelings himself - and he knows it has to be that much worse for anyone who stayed as the only member of their brood. At least he has Bakugo (which is not the kind of sentiment he expected to ever be comforting, given their differences, and yet here they are - ).

It's not like he can judge when he's something of a professional at getting lost in his own trauma.

But he speaks up anyway, although he's really addressing himself, too. ]

The climb's going to be worse if we're not rested for it.

[shiro2hero]

Yeah. Probably.

[He keeps his eyes on the stars for a while longer, before he actually drops his gaze to Joshua. The old lines of fatigue back on his face. They'd faded for a while, up until Keya happened. And then only got deeper.]

[Probably says a lot about the way his head is, anymore.]

How're you holding up?

[Because that's clearly a better thing to talk about than himself.]

[whereabout]

[ Joshua takes the journey exactly in the way he takes everything else: like a calm, placid lake on the surface while something just beneath is curled up in the fetal position in the corner hoping to be left alone.

It's entirely the departures, to be fair. There's a hole in his psyche the same way everyone else feels it - less severe in his case, probably, given that Bakugo is there, but gaping and persistent, nonetheless. He treats it like he treats every emotion: something to be pushed to the side and ignored if at all possible.

The climb, at least, is something to focus on - something he's good at, that he can really sink into. He hardly seems to notice when the hike gives way to shorter climbs, which he tackles easily and gracefully. He never looks down.

And when they finally stop in front of that first, nasty cliff face, there's hardly a ripple in his thoughts. He can be found using the last of daylight to check on equipment; he clearly has enough experience to know what to look for. ]



(i freely admit this starter is balls so if you have an idea, hit me.)

[incinerates]

You're hesitating already?

[ Even bundled up in his layers of gear and robes, he cuts a pretty confident figure at the foot of a long, difficult-looking climb. The way his mind hums, un-subtly against Joshua's, betrays that his confidence is born, like many things he's proud of, in experience. He's climbed mountains before, perhaps steeper than this. Japan was full of them, and he'd conquered Mount Aino when he was barely eleven. ]

It's just one foot in front of the other.

[ For most things, not just climbing the mountain. He also feels the yawning chasm, stretching between himself, Joshua and the rest of Avior -- back on the Station. ]

[whereabout]

Is that what you call taking reasonable precaution?

[ It's said mildly, without looking up from the rope he's checking. ]

I've seen what happens when the rope snaps. I'd rather not see it again.

[ He'd been...ten, probably? It was the face of a building, not a cliff (in Erebonia, Roer - of course it would be Roer, since few other cities on the continent took such pleasure in pushing the limits of how high you could build without everything coming down).

At the time, he hadn't cared. Another loose end to tie up, another bullet point in the list of reasons Enforcers preferred to operate solo. It was an annoyance, nothing more than that.

(Now that he's had to confront just how much he's been lying to himself about over the years, he's not so sure what he was feeling then.)

And if there's any deeper point to that question, he's choosing not to acknowledge it. ]