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

I know, I know.

[But that doesn't mean he's going to put them down.]

Take it easy for a little while, all right? You'll be better than 'Okay' with a break.

[Words he should probably listen to himself. Frisk is more important, though. They're a child.]

[They don't stop, trying now to climb out of his grip rather than push Shiro away. He's not--they'll just hurt him like they have everyone else, like Chara and their family and Ginko and...]

Stop...stop it.

[Why does this keep happening?]

Don't need help.

You fell on your face, Frisk.

[He is determined. He said he would help them, if he could, and now, here they were, in trouble.]

[The least he can do is give them a lift for a few miles.]

That doesn't say 'doesn't need help'.

[Of course he is...determined, Determined, * Determination, even torn from their grasp it plagues their every step. Why?!]

Jus' tripped. Put me down!

[He stops. Breathes deeply. The words thrown around a few weeks ago suddenly feel like they're screamed in his head again. The worst thing I've ever lived through... not saving someone...]

[He sets them down, carefully. And kneels.]

... can you at least let me walk with you? Please?

[They're on the ground, and--]

[--too tired to run. Can't be bothered to dart away, no option to * Flee.]

...

[They shouldn't let him stay. They should--they should tell him to go, to leave them behind, to convince him now of what he'll surely realize soon enough.]

...okay.

[Selfish. Selfish.]

[Maybe this is pride. Maybe relying on others wounded theirs somehow. Or something else has happened. He doesn't know.]

[He doesn't say anything to that effect. Just gently puts a hand to their shoulder.]

Thank you, Frisk.

[Act like they're doing him a favor -- see if that helps.]

[Frisk nods without meeting Shiro's gaze, but their shoulder is trembling stiff underneath his hand. None of this is right, but...hah. They weren't ever going to get what they want, right?]

[No. They're the type of person that won't ever be happy.]

...let's go.

[He pulls his hand back. Slowly. Mechanically. This... doesn't seem like the kid he's met before. Like he's crossed a line somehow without even realizing it.]

... I'm sorry.

[For whatever boundary he'd overstepped trying to make things right.]

[Hah. See? It's already happening. That self they'd tried so hard to maintain is crumbling away, showing the pathetic, toxic thing lurking beneath.]

'S okay.

[It was never his fault. Frisk is the one that fooled him, made him think they were worth knowing, worth caring about. Just say the right things, show a little MERCY and it's so easy to make someone like you, right?]

[But that's not ever been them. Not really. It's just what...they were supposed to be.]

Come on, let's try and catch up, all right?

[No, it doesn't seem like it's okay. But far be it from him to question someone else's version of "it's fine". He says it enough as is, even when it isn't actually true.]

[But if they think he's going to walk away, they're wrong.]

[He'll just wait. Until they're ready to move again. Walking beside them like he'd said he would.]

...alright.

[They pause awkwardly for several long moments, debating with themself...then very slowly reach up to take one of Shiro's hands.]

[They're just letting themself be led. That's all. It doesn't have to be anything more.]

[He's surprised, when their hand grips his. Surprised and, honestly, glad. He looks down for a second, and there's a slight, grateful smile on his face.]

Keep an eye out for potholes, okay? I don't know if I can see them from up here.

[He thinks he's funny.]

[They don't...they're definitely not smiling. Their gaze flicks up, and they shrug one shoulder faintly.]

'Ll try. ...you look for panhandlers.

Panhandlers? What are those?

[He sounds a little amused though. More curious than anything.]

[Frisk frowns a little, looking up at Shiro in confusion before replying.]

'S...um. When people ask for money.

[At least, that's how they'd understood it when they heard the phrase. They've never actually seen one themself, they think.]

Oh. That kind.

I don't think that's going to be a problem here, Frisk.

[Since they're sort of the only people out here and all.]

Oh.

[Frisk's shoulders droop, and they look down at the ground again. They'd thought that joke was clever--pots and pans, right?]

[...they really should stop trying.]

Did I... miss something?

[It's entirely possible. Since he hasn't slept in three goddamn days.]

'S okay. Was dumb anyway.

[He goes quiet for a minute -- then, thoughtfully, looks down at Frisk.]

Want to hear a dumb joke about paper?

[A beat.]

Nah, nevermind. It's tear-able.

[A small huff of a laugh escapes Frisk before they can stop themself, and a tiny smile pulls at their lips.]

That's a good one.

Did you hear about the cafe on the moon?

[That little laugh is heartening. As is the smile on their face, small as it is.]

... great cheese. No atmosphere.

August Event Log: Part I

hitting the road

storm front

wild life

old familiar places

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SHIT WRONG ACCOUNT I'M SORRY

YOU SURE DID MISS SOMETHING SIDESWIPE

FACE IN HANDS, I'M SORRY

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