August Event Log: Part I

[savmods]

Who: Everyone
When: August 9 and onward
Where: An unexpected destination
What: The newcomers go on a trip and end up far from where they expected
Warnings: Potential violence. Please label your content!

NOTE: PLEASE READ THIS OOC POST FIRST.

When the time comes for the travelers to go on the off-world trip that will help restore Thisavrou, they are not alone. Others who have settled on the planets longer and come to call them home are also prepared to travel; through the Ingress and do their part. Yet when the newcomers step through, whether they stepped through the Ingress seconds or hours apart, they will find that they have arrived at the same time, and only newcomers are in sight.

What awaits them is not a land of plenty. The land is barren, and dark storms in the sky resemble those held at bay by the Ingress complex—but much, much closer. Those who traveled on the Moira may recognize the landscape; though they have come through at a different point from the crash, they are on the Midway Hub. And there is no portal back. They are trapped.

hitting the road

Though some have been here before, the Midway Hub is not as they remember it. The storms fill the sky, leaving it dark and ominous even when they are not sweeping across the landscape—but they have clearly done so in recent times, and often. While never a lush land, large patches of ground an acre or more wide looking nothing more than utterly dead; the thistle that naturally grows is brittle, black and unable to be consumed even with the usual preparations to make it edible, and here and there animal corpses are found twisted into unnatural poses, but seemingly uninjured. These places are particularly concentrated near the broken Ingresses litter the landscape. While Midway Hub as a whole may seem naturally arid, these dead spots leave no hope that anything can possibly live there again.

The travelers have two options: stay where they are, or move on. While it might seem that they've been tricked into coming here and been left abandoned, those with the technological ability to do so may detect a sign of hope: a familiar energy source, far in the distance. Although none of the Ingresses they pass will ever work again, the faint energy shows that one still-functioning Ingress lies far in the distance, days away.

Although technological scanning or impressive memory of the landscape indicates that they are not separated from their destination by one of the gates that divide the land, they are also far from the shelter of the facility at the center of the Hub. Any attempt to travel in a direction other than that of the energy signal will result in a strange disorientation after several hours, bringing individuals back to their original path as though they've gone in circles. Meanwhile, though travelers will feel the need to slake their hunger and thirst through any natural water sources they discover, wildlife they can hunt for food and any supplies they have on them, if they don't find sustenance, they'll find that they will never pass out or reach the point of starvation. Instead, they'll be left alive and awake but feeling utterly hollow.

storm front

At regular intervals, the energy storms above descend onto the land, bringing not rain but violent clashes of negative energy and thunder so loud that nothing can be heard above it. The passing of the storms leaves some strange effects. The ground is warped and rotted by their touch, even solid stone degrading to a spongy surface. The air is tepid and oddly charged. Prolonged contact with air or ground will not supply energy, however — it drains it from organic and synthetic life alike.

Those who remember their last trip to the Hub, or simply explore in the right direction, may come across the cave complexes with their glowing surfaces and streams. The light is dimmer now, a sickly green, but drinking from the streams will still restore the energy lost, for a time. This time, however, the lethargy that inevitably follows is much more severe, and the drinkers are left with a raw, empty feeling leeching in from the wasteland around.

Those who are exposed to the storms, either by finding themselves in very close proximity or even closely observing them for too long as they approach, may lose their sight, or hearing, even much of the ability to feel touch — whatever sense they used in observation. What lingers in its place is a numbness. A hunger. And as time passes, the time between storms decreases; what seemed like hours between the storms becomes scarcely one, and their intensity grows.

wild life

Sentient beings are not the only ones affected by the storms; these creatures, attracted to sound and able to track by scent, and these panthers, which once looked normal but have been twisted by the storms into more monstrous forms, are numerous enough that travelers must be constantly alert for their presence. Though natural predators, the threat the creatures represent is not itself natural. They are also more aggressive. Some strange instinct drives them, not a need for food. While the panthers themselves can be caught and their meat cooked, it has little taste, offering nutrition but not satisfaction.

old familiar places

Although it's difficult to track the passage of time without day-night cycles, after what seems like more than a week of the travelers' unexpected trip, the storms abruptly come rushing in at the group of travelers, as if they're herding the group to move faster toward their destination and the Ingress energy that awaits them. The true nature of that destination becomes clear when debris appears on the horizon; the energy comes from the wreckage of the Moira, the interstellar ship that crashed here months ago.

Despite the trauma of impact, large sections of the ship remain surprisingly intact, though few of them are properly vertically oriented. If travelers are able to make their way inside the damaged sections of the ship, they'll find familiar territory, if they are one of those who traveled on the Moira, as well as shelter—something that's increasingly necessary as the storms seem to center over the ship, leaving little hope for survival outside. Useful items may be scavenged from the ship if they are willing to explore, but no personal items of any kind remain.

Strangely, the deeper travelers go into the crashed ship, the less familiar their surroundings will seem, regardless of their orientation. The inward-leading paths into the ship become generic metal, and as with the travel on the surface of the planet, they may find themselves back where they started. And no matter how far they go or how hard they try, they will find themselves unable to make it to the Ingress chamber itself...for now.

Comments

[notglitching]

[Rinzler holds position, but there's a quick jerk of the opaque mask. A rise in the harsh rattling that echoes through the shaft. Words catch and falter, a rough sound before he makes himself slow down. Get it right..]

It's my voice.

[His. (Possessive, personal.) Not the shadow's. Not even Tron's. That thing sounded like him. And he'd wanted it back.

Shoulders slope inward, a close shrug.]

Functional.

[Miller's not quite up to where he is, so he doesn't advance higher. Not yet.]

[warandpeace]

Yeah. [Kaz, this time, just agrees with a quiet word and a nod and doesn't offer any stories about the clones. About Big Boss's and Venom Snake's voices and their similarities. He doesn't elaborate that he knows the difference, that it is Rinzler's, it's just his subconscious making him react.]

[Kaz scales up a little further, more careful than Rinzler. He's less nimble, but at least he isn't lacking in upper body strength.]

Could you find any of your personal effects? I couldn't find the scraplet damage when I was looking around.

[He shifts the light again for him, aiming it up. Thankfully the ledge onto the storage floor seems to be pretty solid.]

[notglitching]

[Points of light waver in the darkness: the enforcer's helmet, shaking from side to side.]

Caches missing. Haven't checked quarters.

[Because it's perfectly normal to store batteries in your ship's vents. Rinzler eyes the halo of the flashlight, backing up a pace along the narrow frame before darting forward: two steps and a leap before he zigzags rapidly up the corner wall. A neat roll up over the edge, and he peers back down at Miller.]

Can— [abort, correct—] I can hold it.

[He nods at the flashlight. Even ignoring Rinzler's new and more stable position, the user seems more likely to need use of his hands.]

[warandpeace]

Caches you left here?

[Now that makes him want to see the storage area even more. He looks at the flashlight, and calls out a-] Catch. [-before tossing it in Rinzler's direction. No worries about him dropping it from Kaz, no hesitation. Rinzler's always had impeccable reflexes.]

[He looks down, in that reflex movement to see how far he'd fall if he messed up. As one unfortunately tends to do. It doesn't stop him. But he can't help that one thought of gashing something open on a jagged bit as he slid.]

Is anything else off? Quarters were unremarkable. There was nothing anyone left behind. Not even scraps of paper. And the hole the Cybertronians created that had to be repaired is gone.

[notglitching]

[A hand reaches out, snatching the tool easily mid-arc and turning it to light the path. Rinzler nods again in answer. He'd stashed energy in case of an emergency, but found no sign of the reserves at all. As for the rest of the ship...]

Power flow.

Connecting conduits at different potential. Some reserves charged, some not. Visible damage doesn't match.

[Which had been ever so slightly infuriating when he was trying to find a source to charge off of himself. Rinzler wants his scans back yesterday.

Lacking that, he'll settle for a closer look. But the user sure does seem to be just standing there... and staring down. Rinzler's helmet angles a little before cautiously ducking toward Miller—and his rope. He hadn't planned to interfere, but...]

Assistance required?

[warandpeace]

[He can't decide if he's ashamed to ask for it or not. He stays on the ledge, very much not the same man that so easily stopped and checked his wounded leg in front of Rinzler months ago.]

[He reaches up, finally, with a nod.]

[His own form of nonverbal communication when Rinzler, for once, absolutely has it.]

[notglitching]

[Whatever permissions he's been granted, nonverbals will always be Rinzler's first language. He eyes the area the user's on before nodding, a jump across and a slide down the shaft's wall to catch himself on the outer edges of the ledge.

It's a precarious perch, but he doesn't falter. The mask tips toward the rope Miller brought, then toward the user, tilting slightly in question.

Rinzler can take the rope up, or he can boost the user directly.

Miller's call.]

[warandpeace]

[He grips at Rinzler's forearm firmly, taking the offer with less hesitance than before. Because when it comes down to it, even if Rinzler doesn't care much for what Miller has to say, he's been a good and effective fighter. A helpful associate.]

[That's what's more important here. And Miller realizes that maybe in his desperation to find a friend (coming from Motherbase, and from the idea that everything in his life had been a lie, even his closest person) that he might have forced something on Rinzler that he might not have wanted.]

[But this works. This is fine. He'll eventually talk to him about it, when it seems more timely. Right now there are larger issues for them.]

I can take the light again. It looks like one more level... Is it just me, or does it look like the lift didn't get used much?

[Seems like it should be more scratched up than this. Good metal?]