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

[Lavellan hesitates for a moment, like he's not sure what Jack expects him to do. Then it dawns on him that Jack is probably holding something out to him, so he reaches forward mechanically--he misses at first, and has to follow Jack's arm down to the wrist, and finally to what he's holding--and takes it once he manages to feel what it is.

Not because he needs it, but because it's the quickest way to end the conversation. He knows he's probably just made Jack into yet another person who's going to try to hover and coddle him because he can't see, but he can't really bring himself to care. Instead he just pockets it like nothing out of the ordinary has happened.]

Thank you.

[Now go away.]

[After dealing with Ana's loss of hearing, Jack knows that other, similar phenomenon have been afflicting some of the other transplants, and it's obvious that Lavellan hasn't avoided it. The way he doesn't seem to realize that there's something held out in front of him seals the deal, and Jack decides to risk moving just a little closer. Eventually, he gets the idea, though the way he instantly pockets the bottle has Jack frowning, the expression evident in his voice.]

You should drink that.

[Because Jack is acting under the assumption that he needs to.]

If you aren't, give it here so I can take it to someone who needs it.

[His supplies are limited, after all.]

[At first Lavellan just stands there, like he hasn't even heard Jack. Then he reaches back into his coat, pulls the water bottle back out, and holds it out to him wordlessly.

There. Now will you go away?]

Suit yourself.

[Jack frowns, the expression obvious even with his face covered. It takes him a moment to decide how he wants to proceed--though he reclaims the water bottle, when he puts it back in his bag, he swaps it for what must be some kind of alien planet-brand caloriemate.

He's pathologically stubborn, and Lavellan's defiance only makes him want to dig his heels in more. Jack sits himself down, making sure to rustle the wrapper of the protein bar in an exaggerated fashion as he tears the package open.]

[Lavellan magnanimously manages to suppress a sigh of irritation as Jack very obviously decides not to leave. So much for that promise.

He crosses his arms and tries not to radiate so much concentrated annoyance, in case that's only encouraging him.]

Now what are you doing?

[Yeah, he isn't succeeding very well.]

Eating.

[Can't you hear the sound of this protein bar wrapper unwrapping? Here, Jack will hold it closer, just in case.]

You want some?

[No, he really doesn't. And he doesn't make any move to acknowledge what Jack is doing. (Though, partly, that's just because he can't see it.)

But also, he no longer has any patience for bullshit. He lets out a heavy, exasperated sigh in response.]

What are you really doing, Jack?

[The answer, of course, is making sure Lavellan doesn't wander off and do something stupid, but he's not about to say that in so many words. Lavellan likely already knows what this is about, hence the measure of petulance. Jack, unfortunately, isn't so easily deterred.]

Eating a granola bar.

[Said through a mouthful of the granola bar. He nudges at Lavellan's arm, indicating that he's offering some of it.]

Making sure you're eating too.

[Lavellan would look down his nose incredulously at Jack if he could actually see.]

You haven't noticed we don't get hungry here?

[They probably don't even need to eat at all. But if they do, then at least starving will be more pleasant than it would be anywhere else.]

[He’s noticed—but he can’t be sure it isn’t some kind of trick, so he’s making sure to put some calories in himself anyway. With his accelerated metabolism, he doesn’t want to chance it. Hearing Lavellan say he isn’t hungry doesn’t quite convince him, but it is a little disconcerting.]

Suit yourself.

[Said through another mouthful of granola bar.]

What’s your plan?

[He barks out a bitter laugh.]

I don't have a plan. Does anyone have a plan? Keep walking until we find a way out or keel over, apparently.

I have a plan.

[Of course he does--though jury's still out on whether it's a good plan. He can understand that Lavellan is probably feeling some great betrayal, and the last thing he wants to do is rub it in, but he's not going to let the kid refuse to move and waste away, either.]

I'm not gonna let you sit here.

[Of course. Of course. How he always ends up acquainted with people who never know when to leave well enough alone, he'll never know.

Possibly a case of like attracting like.]

What if I'm tired, Jack?

[Now, of walking. And also in general, of life.]

We’re all tired.

[He’s tired—he’s never not tired, and he’s certainly had plenty of times where he considered quitting. Sometimes, one foot in front of the other is all he has, and at his lowest moments, where everything seemed pointless, it would have been easy. He’s not here to sit down next to Lavellan and say that he understands, but he can’t in good conscience leave him, even if he doesn’t want to be helped.]

You’re just gonna let us go on without you.

[Lavellan scoffs, his shoulders slumping. Well, no point in dodging the point now.]

That is the idea, yes.

[It would be so easy. Just get up and leave.]

Stupid idea.

[Though what else is there, stranded on this wasteland planet as they are? Jack is not, however, here to give up so easily.]

Dying of thirst isn't fun.

[He expects some kind of argument about how hunger and thirst seem to be inexplicably escaping them, but Jack doesn't think that will last. It's just another trick.]

That's my problem to worry about, isn't it?

[Provided dying of thirst is even possible. Honestly, Lavellan isn't expecting to die if he's left behind. He's expecting to just sit forever, in a state of meaningless existence, nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. Which isn't a whole lot more pleasant than the prospect of death, but he's not exactly doing this for fun.]

What does it matter to you? You realize I'm part of the reason you're here.

If it hadn't been you, it woulda been something else.

[Jack's distaste for the Savrii isn't a secret, and given his own refusal to play by their rules, he'd had a sneaking suspicion that they'd want to get rid of the refugees sooner rather than later.]

They were just looking for an excuse.

You don't know that. [Though, in all honesty, he probably does. People had been distrustful of the Savrii for as long as Lavellan had been here; there surely had to be a reason for it.

Hadn't Jack been the one to tell him about the Midway Hub?

He's already trailing off, thinking about that as soon as the statement is out of his mouth.]

Is this what you arrived to, when your ship crashed?

Believe it or not, this is worse.

[He's only ever seen it as a wasteland, but somehow it seems even more ravaged this time. Jack is too focused on trying to salvage parts of the Moira in a bid to get off the planet entirely, but he knows that the Midway Hub is somehow in worse shape than when he left it.]

Not sure what's been going on in the meantime.

[He can easily believe it. The wasteland is horrible in a way he's never seen before.]

I've never known anything that could do all this, magic or... otherwise. [If there is technology that's capable of it, he wouldn't know the difference.] It's almost like the Blight, except...

It doesn't spread. Nothing seems infected. It's like this is just the way it is.

Your guess is as good as mine.

[Because Jack doesn't have any idea what happened to the Midway Hub in the first place, much less what could have put it in this state. He needs to concentrate on getting off it as soon as he can, and puzzle the rest out later.]

Better to figure out how to leave.

[Lavellan trails off. It's not hard to think of the unasked question: what if they don't. They'll be stuck here in perpetuity, he supposes, since nobody has shown signs of thirst or hunger yet. At least it will give them plenty of time to explore.]

What do you think about that energy source some people have detected?

I think it's our best shot.

[They don't have many other options, so chasing the energy source seems to be the path most likely to produce results.]

Could be the Ingress in the Moira is still functional.

If it is, will it take us back to Thisavrou?

[It's an honest question. He has no idea how the fuck the Ingress works. Obviously; if he had he wouldn't have gone and broke the thing.]

August Event Log: Part I

hitting the road

storm front

wild life

old familiar places

it's my hot body

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