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

[squadgoals]

[The helmeted head seems to pause, as if sizing up the redhead at her door.]

Cigarettes.

[Just her luck. Another smoker.]

Fresh out.

[brokeassgoing]

Dammit...welp, nothing's perfect out here. I'll take a ride, though.

[the lack of a.....face somewhat makes him pause]

[squadgoals]

A ride, I can do. Hop in.

[She shifts away from the door, gesturing for him to climb in with a hand.]

Don't think we've met before. Name's Shepard.

[Granted, it's hard to tell if you have met her or not, on account of the intimidating helmet.]

[brokeassgoing]

[it is kinda
much]

You're not gonna take me to your leader or the fishes, right....?

[that name could be fake....]

You can call me Nails.

[that's
still your last name Badou
and its a weird one]

Bruce Nails.

[..........]

[squadgoals]

Fishes...?

[The helmet hides the narrowed eyes, but not the tone of her voice.]

No, Mr. Nails. I'm only offering you a ride.

[Fishes???]

This your first time at Midway Hub?

[brokeassgoing]

No, it's not. The kindness of strangers just kinda depends these days...you understand.

[regardless of all this and how she sounds Not Convinced, he does take her hand and climb on in]

[squadgoals]

I understand.

[Hypothetically. But that she hadn't run into the redhead previously was really a testament to their expansive numbers. Pulling him in, she pulls the door closed behind her, waving a hand at the surprisingly uncluttered back of the Mako, dim lighting showing pads on the floor, and pillows strewn about. Welcome to casa del nap, apparently.]

Make yourself comfortable, I'll get her going again.

[But before she heads forward, she can't help but ask:]

Were you able to find cigarettes on Thisavrou?

[brokeassgoing]

[He makes himself as comfortable as possible, but not so much that he's not ready to bolt out the door at a moment's notice either.

also he's not judging too hard, this is way cushier than the place he ended up]

Eh, before everything went to shit I had some places. Now I'm down to one a day and I'm dying.

[squadgoals]

One a day?

[She slides back into the driver's seat, casting an amused glance over her shoulder.]

How many do you have left?

[There's a jolt, a jerk, and the vehicle trucks near-silently onwards.]

[brokeassgoing]

[he deflates, shoulders slumped as he wibbles over the crumpled pack]

I don't even wanna know...not many. I'm dying.

[squadgoals]

[Yikes. Whatever number he was looking at, that was still one pack.]

What're you going to do once you're out?

[Her vice, at least, was easy enough to process out of... well, almost anything, if you got creative enough.]

Not exactly a ton of tobacco plants growing wild, here.

[brokeassgoing]

Well...hopefully not fuck anyone up too much.

[he straightens, trying to calm himself despite the uncertainty that beats in his pulse]

[squadgoals]

[It's the candor, she decides. The straight-forward nature he's saying things, that makes her more interested in the situation at hand.]

You know Adrien? The doctor?

[brokeassgoing]

[does she think he's gonna like....kick in heads? She's not wrong]

Yeah, he set my nose once. Total ass, that guy. Does good work, though.

[squadgoals]

He does indeed. [More than couple heart to hearts, physicals, and an extracted lead slug later, she felt inclined to be generous on her thoughts towards the good doctor Adrien.]

Have you talked to him at all about something to tide you over? He might be carrying something that could help.

[Maybe. The hell did she know about what doctors had? Chakwas always had alcohol. Who knew what Adrien kept in his bug-out bags?]

[brokeassgoing]

.....What, really? Like cigarettes? I know it's being too hopeful for weed or something out here.

[he's thinking Normal Things which is a mistake]

[squadgoals]

Probably not in their popular consumer forms... but he might have an adjacent substance.

[He's a doctor, a military man, AND a nitpicker. She'd be shocked if he didn't have something for the shakes, no matter where they were.]

Keep your mind open, and who knows? Maybe if you ask nice enough.

[And after a moment of thought:]

That your only vice?

[brokeassgoing]

See, I feel like bein' nice to him will make him more suspicious and generally douchey...but guess it's worth a shot.

[keep your mind open, she doesn't realize she's telling mr-negative this...]

I'm not a raging alcoholic if that's what you're worried about.

[squadgoals]

You're in luck, there — he'd be both suspicious and irritable no matter what you said.

[Adrien was a lot of things, and a bundle of angry needles was easily at least one. There's a good-natured breathy exhale at his second answer, though.]

Shame. Always good to meet new drinking buddies.

[brokeassgoing]

Think he's got one hell of a sandy asshole, y'know? Can't be healthy.

[for a second he'd been doubly suspicious, but at the thought of drinking buddies, he barks a laugh]

Casual alcoholic, here, then. Will that be enough?

[squadgoals]

[There's no immediate reply, just a gentle shake of her head, a suppressed smirk. She was in no position to theorize on the quantity of sand Adrien's nethers held in their possession — not when she'd inevitably be back on his table in the near future.]

Casual, huh? I guess it'll have to do. Beverage of choice?

[brokeassgoing]

[next time she's on his table they can shittalk his neithers WHILE she's physically on the table. just let him know]

Really shitty beer and mixed drinks, apparently?

[squadgoals]

"Apparently"?

As in, they were what was available last time you were being a casual alcoholic?

[brokeassgoing]

It was either that or the more piss-ier beers. Y'know how it is. The lesser of two evils.

[squadgoals]

I do know how it is.

How long have you had the pleasure of Thisavrou's company, Bruce?