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.

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[Lavellan startles at the unexpected voice, and has to lean on the side of the cave for balance.]

Hello?

[No, that's stupid. There's obviously a person here. Furthermore, it sounds like a child. Say something more useful.]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.

...it's okay.

[Whoever it is, Frisk doesn't recognize the voice. They don't move, nor turn their head toward the sound.]

I'm jus' sittin'.

[Lavellan pauses. He could leave, but something about the idea seems the wrong thing to do.]

All alone in a cave?

[He doesn't move closer, because he's worried he'll trip over something. But he doesn't leave either.]

Not exactly a common pastime.

[Ha ha.]

I'm used t' it.

[They shuffle their feet a little closer to their body, and rest their chin on their knees again.]

You should prob'ly go.

[Yeah, no dice. Instead of leaving, he makes his way further into the cave, stabling himself with one hand. When he gets to where Frisk's voice seemed to be coming from--with a healthy room for error, because he doesn't want to trip over them--he slides down the cave wall until he's sitting, too.]

Not many places for me to go around here. Besides, this is comfortable.

[It's really not, but who cares?]

[Frisk's brow furrows, listening to the man approach and settle to the ground near them. Why does he care? They're just another brat, a leech and a nuisance, better off being left to their own devices. It doesn't make any sense.]

...no it's not. It's cold 'n th' stone's all pointy.

[As it happens, talking to someone else--trying to help someone else--helps bring Lavellan out of his own head. They can just be two piles of garbage being garbage together.

He shrugs, not knowing Frisk can't see it.]

Perhaps I happen to like such conditions. Why are you here, if you don't?

[He's not going to shut up. Frisk will either have to engage him in conversation or leave.]

[Is he truly so stubborn? Fine, then. But they won't make things easy for him.]

...waiting.

[If there's one thing he can say about himself, it's that he's irrepressible.]

Then I'll keep you company. What are you waiting for?

...dunno.

[They could be waiting for any number of things. For a friend, for an enemy, for family...for The End. Maybe they're just waiting to be told what to do.]

Somethin' will come.

[Uh.

Okay.]

Well, that's rather imprecise. How do you know you're supposed to be waiting at all? Everyone else seems to think we ought to be moving on as soon as possible.

[Honestly, he gets it. He'd be doing the same thing if he wasn't talking to Frisk. But he wants to hear Frisk say it.]

Should I?

[Will you be the one to direct them? To tell them what to take, where to go, who to spare? Will you tell them who to be this time, that they can find you a satisfactory conclusion?]

[Or is the Game too boring for you to bother?]

I'd like to know why you think waiting might be a better idea.

[There's still a feigned lightheartedness to his tone, like he's asking Frisk to share with the class if they think they've found out something that can be helpful. Innocent, blithe interest. There's no way Frisk could possibly just want to waste away here, of course not.]

I dunno. But walkin' hasn't helped.

[They cannot think, they cannot FIGHT. And so...]

It hasn't? You haven't heard some people have found an energy signature in the distance somewhere?

[Truthfully, it's dubious to him too. But he's trying to motivate Frisk, so he'll grasp at any straw he can find.]

Some are saying it might even be a way back.

I don't wanna go back.

[They won't stop anyone else going--they deserve that hope. But...]

I never helped anythin'.

[He makes sure to sound surprised.]

Are you meant to? Pardon if I'm wrong, but you sound rather young. You should have plenty of time to fix your mistakes.

[If that's even what they're talking about.]

[Frisk pauses for a moment, then looks up in his direction. Fix it?]

I can't. It already happened.

[That's a start, isn't it? That they're actually talking to him?]

Can I ask what it was? Maybe it's not too late, and I can help you with it.

Th' Cadeuceans. Th' slavers. Th' Savrii. Chara, 'n Asriel, 'n everyone...

Everythin'.

[That's... a lot of things. Lavellan is doubtful, for some reason.]

I have a strange suspicion that most of those things were out of your control. What makes you think you're at fault?

I always knew. I knew what to do...I'm supposed to.

[They don't expect him to understand, really. Few ever do.]

[...He thinks he might be able to relate a little bit to feeling like that.]

You know, back where I'm from, I was asked to make a lot of important decisions that I wasn't qualified to make. I was given a lot of power I didn't deserve, purely because of circumstances, and everyone expected me to use it to do the right thing.

[He inhales slowly.]

I didn't always know what that was, but I had to make a choice anyway. I'll probably never know whether or not I really chose correctly. Just because you think you're supposed to know something doesn't mean you do, and that's all right. It's not a fair thing to expect of anyone. And I'm sure you'll find that people blame you less than you think they do.

[Wow, look at this hypocrite.]

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August Event Log: Part I

hitting the road

storm front

wild life

old familiar places

but a dipshit came

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