Entry tags:

August Event Log: Part I

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Asriel backs away immediately as the animal is thrown into his path, only to meet a quick but brutal end. He glances up briefly at Mettaton, more surprised at the action than particularly horrified.]

N-no, you didn't... um...

[God, he's so hungry. He's so hungry. Enough that he forgets anything else he has to say to Mettaton for the moment, and he unhooks his disk. It lights up with a hum, and with only a few seconds of hesitation, he slices through fur and muscle. He doesn't really know how to prepare meat - and really, he doesn't care. He just needs it. Just give it to him, he needs to eat.

It's way gruesome, but Asriel digs his claws into the fur he's sliced through, trying to peel it the rest of the way off.

It's so messed up. It's so messed up for a monster to do this. And he knows it. He's kneeling down, he's leaning forward, and it's a little questionable whether or not he's going to actually cook what meat he's trying to remove.]

[Mettaton knows that Asriel has a hard time with being deprived of food. He understands what the young boss monster wants, and even watching him maul the still-warm corpse doesn't really elicit a poor reaction.

If anything, Mettaton just...doesn't care if Asriel does it. He doesn't have the capacity to feel that much anymore. Still, part of him seems unsure if he should let Asriel eat the flesh raw, or even skin the beast on his own.]

I can help you, if you want.

[Asriel barely hears him. Blood bubbles up from the wound, staining the monster's hands as he digs deeper, and his snout is frighteningly close to the open wound he's made.

It's okay, because he survived on garbage. He survived on crumpled paper, scraps of things that were inedible to a monster. He didn't want to, he begged his owner to give him something real, but he didn't have a choice just like he doesn't have a choice right now-

The tip of his nose touches the wound, before it finally registers that Mettaton's talking to him. His head snaps up, all of his teeth showing.]

What?

[Mettaton's offering to help him. It's only then he notices his own hands, and he pulls away suddenly. Haha, boy look at him. He'd scare Chara or Frisk off for sure.

Asriel tries not to feel disgusted at himself. He swallows, before trying to speak again.]

O-oh um... sure. I'd appreciate it.

[Mettaton doesn't say much after that point. He walks forward, bends down, and takes hold of one section of the panther's skin. It's easy to peel it form the flesh, and since he's not wearing his gloves--when had he last worn them? why had he? he needs his claws--there's nothing to stain as the flesh strips away, bits of viscera clinging temporarily before they snap back. Like a rubber band.

A sick, bloody rubber band that gives as Mettaton exposes the edible parts of the animal more clearly. Interesting, seeing the musculature like that. It should bother him, huh?

It doesn't.]

It'll taste better if you use your magic, sweetheart. Don't eat it raw. It's not going anywhere.

[Asriel watches him work, pulling the away the parts that Asriel can actually eat. He fidgets anxiously, eager to have the first meal he's had in a few days.]

R-right...

[It's hard to wait longer, but fire magic flickers in his hand. Not strong enough to cook it well, but enough to make it less bloody.

He bites his lower lip. Mettaton hasn't said anything about what Asriel was about to do, but he hopes he isn't disgusted by it.]

... Thank you. I um, never actually had to go hunt food before.

I've done it before, if you recall. The last time we were here...I did it because I wanted to help.

[Mettaton offers a hollow little smile.]

It's a good skill. Worth learning, I would say.

[He drops the bloody pelt he'd half-torn off the panther, gesturing to the now-exposed carcass.]

Only one of us has the right magic. I certainly would not be any help here.

[Haha. Boy does he remember the last time Mettaton tried to help him here. He needed to be brought back to his senses, but the memory still stings a little.

Asriel bends down, fire magic slowing cooking the exposed meat. It's a little hard to focus on anything else other than just eating, but after a few quiet moments...]

This place sure brings back memories, huh?

Mm. [He nods.] Not particularly happy ones.

[Mettaton clearly doesn't want to be here. Clearly he's suffering his own level of exhaustion, what with his battery teetering on single digits. And yet...it wouldn't die out. He probably deserved that, and perhaps the Savrii had deemed such a violent creature as him worthy of such a state.

He already can't sleep. May as well strip him of his energy.]

I knew that we would not stay.

[His words are cold and rather unfeeling. But it's true, isn't it? The Savrii had marooned them here.

They didn't belong.]

They got what they wanted, didn't they?

[Now they're going to starve to death - or maybe just live forever in a state of starvation. Left to waste away as nothing but pests to be disposed of.

It was a pretty brilliant plan, Asriel had to admit. Even he was fooled.]

I hated that planet.

I should have hated it. But I didn't, until the end.

Because, well. It was all the same, being there, or being on the Moira. We were going to suffer no matter where we went.

[Mettaton sighs, slowly taking a seat. Once Asriel starts to eat, he's pretty sure they'll be here alone for a while. To commiserate, perhaps.]

The part that hurt the most wasn't anything that happened. It was that we were safe for a little while. Better not to be safe...

[The robot reflects to himself that truthfully...he hates everything. Even the false peace, if he thinks hard enough on it.

He hates it all. Such a strong, all-consuming feeling.]

I thought maybe...

[Asriel tries to push a little more magic into his fire, anxiously waiting for that food to finish cooking.]

There was a Surface. And you, Frisk, and Chara were all there. And it felt safe... I didn't think I needed anything else.

... It's really no different than any other planet we've been on.

That wasn't what it was like. That could never be what it was like.

[Mettaton suddenly turns away, his bangs blocking most of his halfheartedly angry expression. It's not fair. Asriel isn't to blame for how upsetting the statements had been, but Mettaton was aggravated anyway.

He wanted to go home. He doesn't want to be here anymore. But he isn't in control of his fate anymore, is he? What a joke.

"You'll never be happy. You'll always be lacking. Why would you think any different?"]

[Asriel flinches a little, tempted to curl in on himself. But he doesn't.]

... No, you're right.

It can't be like that, not when we were never welcomed there.

[The meat isn't done cooking, but it seems Asriel's patience as worn out. The flame is snuffed out in his hand, and all that's left is partially cooked meat.

There's a flash of teeth, and Asriel ravenously begins to eat.]

[Well. At least Asriel's not trying to convince him otherwise. Then again, the kid's hungry, which becomes immediately apparent as he starts feeding on the panther's carcass. It's fine, not like Mettaton will judge. The fact of the matter was that the former Moirans weren't considered to be the shining, perfect examples that the Savrii wanted.

So...what did it matter if Asriel was acting like an animal? He had every right to behave in a primitive way, after all that had happened.

The Savrii must have thought it a service, to keep them all from dying.

Their mistake.]

[It only makes sense that Asriel acts like an animal. As much as he tries to act otherwise, no matter how much he tries to cling to his own personhood, it only took two weeks to break and mold him into one. Painful labor meant for work animals, starvation while chained up in a dark holding cell, his every waking moment filled with the howling of beasts that had broken long before him.

It only took two weeks.

"I'll show you what happens to animals that don't work."

A low, gurgling growl comes from his throat as his forces food down as fast as he can - choking slightly as he eats it in chunks. A threatening noise directed at a threat that isn't there anymore - that he killed months ago.

But he's never truly gone.]

[Mettaton's not foolish enough to think he's the target of the growling. And even if he was, it falls on his apathy as nothing more than childish noises.

He'd wait. He'd stay because Asriel was his friend and he supported him on a fundamental level. However...Mettaton can't emote about it anymore. What was the point of it? Even being angry was more than he could bear to put effort into, since honestly? It's all a farce. Emotional outbursts had only caused trouble, and even if he thought the situation was a poor one and wanted it to change, the only thing that would ever happen was a worsening of the situation.

He's proof of it, isn't he? Running on the vestiges of power but unable to charge or rest.

He waits. It's the best he can do. He'll wait until the young boy finishes eating, and then they can move on before any other beasts around here are drawn to the carnage.]

[It's ugly, the way he eats.

The way food dribbles from his mouth, blood from half-cooked meat staining his fur and teeth. The way he bites down and tears in big, desperate bites. The way his lips smack together, in ways that would get him scolded by Toriel.

Toriel is the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. So is Frisk and Chara. Even Mettaton somewhat.

But once his aching stomach starts to feel less empty, even as he starts to come to his senses... he doesn't care. They've been doomed to this wasteland, and even if they escaped... what was going to be left for them?

In this universe, it's kill or be killed.

He was stupid for assuming it was any other way. And look where it got them all. They were all so hungry now, so broken and full of despair. And he - haha - he wanted to stay. Because he loved them so much!

... He does love them. He'll kill for them, he'll keep them all alive as long as he can.

He swallows the piece of food in his mouth.]

I won't die on this planet.

... I'm going to keep everyone alive, for as long as I can.

I'm not going to die.

Edited 2017-08-13 06:46 (UTC)

[If anything could draw Mettaton out of his state of apathy and mild self-hatred, it's Asriel saying that. He doesn't understand why, but something's unsettling about the way Asriel said that. And yet...rather than comfort the young monster, Mettaton finds that what he says is uncharacteristically flat...perhaps a bit cold?]

It is easier to assure that you don't die, than to protect anyone else.

Focus on yourself, Asriel, before you insist on protecting others.

[It's true, isn't it? He can't even save himself, let alone saving anyone else. Didn't he used to be able to solve everyone's problems flawlessly? What ever happened to that?

Oh, right. Because he's too far gone now.

He's the reason why Mettaton can't have his dreams anymore. He's the reason why he drove Chara away, because he said such awful things over their grave right there in front of them.

Focus on yourself, Asriel. Isn't that what you always do?]

Okay, Mettaton.

[Asriel's voice is light and gentle. There's a small, but mismatched smile on his face. His shift in expression is sudden, considering how determined he was a moment ago.]

I'll do as you say.

[He won't disobey anyone anymore.

He won't hurt anyone else.]

[There's an unbearably long, yet unbelievably short pause after Asriel says that. For a moment, the entire world goes silent. There's nothing but the two of them there, leaving Mettaton to ruminate over what he'd just been told.

I'll do as you say.

Mettaton doesn't have to think to have it flash back, clear as day, what he'd endured.

"I'll do as you say...just leave everyone else alone. You're angry at me, aren't you?"

"You just don't get why, do you? You don't UNDERSTAND why I'm angry at you, you pitiful pretender!!! Think of YOURSELF, DAMMIT!!"

Mettaton slams a hand against the ground, and although it makes very little impact, given the sandy surface, he's clearly not doing it for a good reason. He turns on Asriel, glaring with such a cold, unyielding ANGER that it was probably damn frightening.]

Don't do it because I told you!! Don't do what I said, do you really think I'm in any position to be telling ANYONE what to do?! I don't need you to follow me like a lapdog, and I don't need you to protect me!!

I need you to take care of yourself!! Think of yourself for once in your life, and perhaps you wouldn't end up in such trouble!!!

[That wasn't the right answer either.

Perhaps this time, Asriel does think of himself. When Mettaton smacks the ground, raises his voice in anger, there's a moment where Asriel feels himself react before his mind can catch up with him. It's pure instinct, the way he frantically grasps at his own back and unclips the disk from it. It's pure instinct, when the disk hums to life in his hands.

And the only thing that goes through Asriel's mind is drug dealers in dark alleys, spiders crawling through trees, animals clawing against metal while howling in the dark.

But he doesn't attack with it, just holds it up like a shield. It takes several, long seconds before he actually realizes who he's holding it up to.

Mettaton.

Mettaton wasn't going to hurt him.

But if he struck, he would've hurt Mettaton.]

I'm sorry-

[Asriel shrinks back, pulling the disk close to his chest. Looking horrified.]

I'm sorry-

I don't know-

I didn't mean-

I wasn't going to-

Edited 2017-08-14 06:38 (UTC)

[Finally!! Finally, some action!! Mettaton's happy to see Asriel reaching for a weapon, to see it whirr to life in his fingers and for a moment, he thinks that he might even encourage Asriel to strike him. Do it, hit him. Hurt him, because he's a big scary robot.

A threat.

A target.

Why...does no one ever hit the target?

--Ah. Hah...what's he thinking? Why's he doing this?! This is Asriel, the one person he cared about so deeply as to sacrifice his own well being. Mettaton shouldn't be yelling. He should be protecting, caring, and nurturing this frightened boy, because who else is here? Not Asriel's mother, nor his father.

Just...Mettaton. He's the only adult monster left, huh? And look at him blow it.

Mettaton reaches a hand forward, slowly, carefully, and places it over Asriel's, if he's allowed to.]

I didn't mean to scare you. Do not apologize...it is my fault. I shouldn't have raised my voice, sweetheart.

[There's a sliver of normalcy in this voice--more than that. His apathy seems to have receded with his anger, replaced instead with regret and soft words.]

Asriel, you shouldn't be sorry I--

[He hesitates.]

I...said some terrible things just now. I didn't mean them...

[Asriel shivers a little, but he doesn't resist Mettaton placing his hand over his. The disk slips out of his hand, and he grips Mettaton's hand a little more tightly - more like a frightened child than anything else.]

I - I don't know what to do anymore. I don't want to lose anyone, I don't want to die either!

[But isn't that what's going to happen to them? What's already happening?]

I can't find Frisk or Chara, and I almost hurt you. I just - I can't think straight anymore, I just - I just get so scared and then I just stop thinking.

... I'm so scared I'm going to hurt someone.

[But Asriel should be used to that, right?]

Asriel...

All of these are eventualities which we must face, in some form or other. I...I can feel it. I can feel that none of this will ever stop growing worse and worse over time.

[He'll turn into a unconscionable murderer with no heart and only cruel words for those around him. Because a monster with LOVE is not a monster at all.

They're what humanity decides they are, and liberated of whatever made them individual, right? Instead, they'll just kill.

He'll kill and feel nothing.]

...Look, why don't we focus on something more important than fear? Let's think about finding Frisk and Chara, shall we? That's what you wanted to do anyway, to help everyone...and it's a good goal.

[This is a poor deflection, even for Mettaton. But...he doesn't know what else to do at this point.]

We're going to help. We're not going to hurt, okay?

Yeah... I think you're right.

[He shouldn't be saying that. Shouldn't he be trying to ease both of their fears? Shouldn't he try to grasp for what optimism he can?

... But he can't. And if he were to say that things were going to get better and they'd be okay, both he and Mettaton would know it was a lie.

Asriel's fated to become the animal that he always feared. The thing clawing and howling in the dark on the other side of a cell. What a scary fate that has to be, to be nothing more than a creature fueled by desperation and agony. ... But in a way, he already knows how that feels.

He should leave it at that. They need to make sure that Frisk and Chara are okay. But he doesn't, as always.]

... Mettaton, can you promise something for me?

Edited 2017-08-15 03:55 (UTC)

August Event Log: Part I

hitting the road

storm front

wild life

old familiar places

tag all three also cw: animal mutilation

omg ur not helping

cw: more animal gore yeehaw

cw: and the gore starts coming and it don't stop coming

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