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

[The Big Sister is used to going without, too. In the ruins of Rapture, food and fresh water were scavenged along with everything else, and what little was left was hardly filling. ADAM helped quiet the ache of hunger, thirst, and fatigue alike, but this place doesn’t even have that. Given the lack of resources, sleep is about the only thing she has been getting an adequate amount of.

She’s tired enough to have removed most of her armor plating by the time she stumbles upon the child—which should have the added benefit of making her appear somewhat less frightening. She crouches next to the little body, a hand coming up to push the hair out of their face. She doesn’t know whether they’re a boy or girl, even with that much. Still, better safe than sorry.

For their part, Frisk will hear a strange sound—almost like cooing but edged with something sharp, like steel wool brushing against metal. Regardless of whether or not Frisk has started to stir, they’ll feel bony arms start to scoop them up.

Can’t leave a potential sister out here alone, after all.]

[They stiffen at the feeling of thin arms looping around them--could almost mistake it for another long gone if not for that strange, eerie sound. They squirm and struggle, but as weak and tired as they are it's not much resistance.]

Stop--'m fine.

[The squirming isn’t enough to dissuade the Big Sister and she hoists the child easily into her arms. Her grip is even more gentle than it would usually be—she’s quite sure the child is too weak to pose much risk of escape.

Frisk’s insistence that they’re fine doesn’t get a spoken response, but they might feel the Big Sister shake her head. No, they’re clearly not.]

Let go. Let go!

[Frisk pushes back and tries to twist their way out of her grip, but it's no use. They try and try, but they can't get away. Even when they want to, even when they try so hard--]

Why?!

[The Big Sister speaks calmly in response, however much she doubts that the child will understand her, telling them that it isn’t safe to be alone. More likely than not, however, Frisk will only hear a bizarre murmur of sound, like the babble of water over that same metal edge from before.

The tightening of her grip should communicate clearly enough that she isn’t going to let go.]

[What is it that has them--who is it?! Has their hearing gone too? Did something damage their disk, that they can't hear or see or understand anything around them? They don't know how to get free, and suddenly they worry if they even should--Mama couldn't ever tell good from bad when she got like that, no matter how hard they tried and now they're lashing out just like her, just like her, it's in their head--]

[Frisk clutches at their head and whimpers, voice robbed of them even as hysterical sobs wrack their frame. They can't, they can't, nothing is right--]

[The Big Sister is not entirely without compassion. Her face twists with worry as the child starts to sob and she stops for a moment just to quickly give them a once over for injuries she may have missed. She forgets sometimes that not all the children in this place are as resilient as her Sisters, that they don’t all have ADAM to numb the pain. But she can’t find any obvious wounds on the child, which is a reassurance. If only she could stop the child from crying…

That had also been easier with her Sisters. Even if she couldn’t speak with them aloud, their minds were linked enough that she could comfort them regardless. With this child in her arms, she can’t even use her cards to string together a sentence of reassurance. All she has are her own ruined vocal chords, better suited for terror than tenderness.

Unable to use her words, she tries to hum as she walks instead, a tune she’s heard in Rapture enough times to know.

She doesn’t know how else to show the child that she’s a person.]

[It's nothing that they recognize, but the intent behind the tune is clear enough. It's strange, like when an Echo Flower overhears another and the message is warped ever so slightly with each passing, but it's gentle and they aren't...they aren't being hurt.]

[Is it okay?]

[Frisk's whimpers slowly start to calm, though they don't dissipate entirely. They don't know this person, shouldn't accept this comfort or care, but...they're tired. They're tired and lonely and hungry and they've no idea where they need to go. It hurts.]

[If this were Rapture, Chara would take the child to Lamb. If Frisk were found to be biologically compatible, they’d be changed, turned into a living factory for a drug that the majority of the city would quite literally kill to get their hands on. It would be a blissful experience—at least, until they outgrew the conditioning that kept them docile.

Fortunately for them, this isn’t Rapture. The Big Sister smooths a hand through their hair, still humming—and carries them back to the rest of the group.]

[The hand in their hair, for a moment Frisk wonders why it isn't larger, callused by paw pads and softened by fur. But the motion and sentiment are familiar, and for now...for now...]

[It's just a moment. They can rest for a moment.]

[They close their eyes, and trust.]

August Event Log: Part I

hitting the road

storm front

wild life

old familiar places

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we can wrap here if you like!

works for me!