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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[He bites a piece of that cookie to show his appreciation. Been a while since his last cookie.

Kurt should take care of provisions better. Sure, there's nothing to complain about tasteless panther meat, however it helps, or would help, them both to not to need to count on having to hunt one down. Carl would be feel better if that were the case.

He glances away from food, back to Kurt, giving a nod.] Deal. [He finishes his cookie the same time Kurt does with the trail mix. The subject switching to stories of their home and the fact in some ways the place they stood was the same makes him consider it. About time Kurt knew, right?]

That's the thing... I'm not uncomfortable talking about it; it's other people who, I think, would be uncomfortable hearing about it. It's a lot like here. We fight everyday for food. We come back as the dead if we die and they are what we have to deal with a lot of the time to live. [He adjusts his looks on Kurt, as if asking if said that to him already. His mind is a little jumbled and noted up with worry he honestly can't remember the little bits he may have told him before. Continuing though,]

It's not always bad. It's brought lots of us together. But it was getting bad when I left, but I have to believe it's nothing we couldn't have handled. [The last vague thing he remembers was needing to get Maggie to a doctor on Hilltop.]

[All homemade, too. Enjoy it, Carl!

Hunting down one of the beasts would indeed prove challenging and possibly wasteful, so perhaps Carl's idea is better than his own. For now, while he converses with his friend, he won't hand anything out. That should conserve something, which is better than nothing, right?

'Taken aback' isn't quite the way to describe the look on Kurt's face. He looks ... confused, yet enthralled, iridescent eyes wide with astonishment.] You mean to tell me that undead exist in your world? Like, a post-apocalyptic sort of place with actual zombies? [From what he can tell, Carl hasn't repeated himself, although he wished he had. Hearing something like this twice might be as equally mind-blowing as the first time.]

So, you ... you've been through something relatively similar to our current situation. [A beat.] I'm sorry. It must be more difficult this time with the well-being of your friends in another world on your mind.

[You bet he will. ~~But the last cookie he had to compare this one to was stale.~~

It's a start. Carl shall continue to look out for Kurt's best interests, even if that he gets a little bossy like he doesn't realize he gets sometimes.

The look that grows on Kurt's confirms he never told him. His lips purse just a small bit, feeling awkward about having to share at this time than at a time prior to this when it meant things didn't have to be shared as a way to explain he knew what he was doing. It wasn't something he wanted to feel like he knew more about at all.]

Yeah, zombies. We call them walkers where I'm from. But it's the same thing. [He learned that back in the last world he was swept into. Teleios. Still really couldn't make sense of why they were called zombies if his expression was one to talk.]

This place, too. Things look a lot deader. The plants, the trees, the ground... But it's the same. [A half hearted head shrug.] I try to think my family and my friends are fine. They're are strong, a lot better than me at doing this. They'd want me to focus on this than worrying about them. One my friends. You. Daryl and Carol. We just have to be smart and work together.

[Carl's momentary off-putting look causes Kurt's expression to wilt, the end of his tail dipping low between his shoulderblades. His friend should know that if he's uncomfortable with sharing, he doesn't have to, but Carl keeps right on explaining, so the teleporter relaxes to some degree.]

Zombies, walkers, shamblers, undead— they're all the same, ja. [Which makes him wonder: where exactly had the word 'zombie' come from, anyway? Ah, well.

He straightens then peers toward one of the campfires from his peripheral, absentmindedly chewing the inside of his cheek. After nodding his head in agreement,] We're all smart in our own ways and as long as we stick together, there should be no reason we can't pull ourselves out of this ... sticky situation.

[He doesn't mean much by his expression and it melts away eventually. He shrugs off what the teleporter says with a,] Yeah. From what other fr-- [he catches himself.] people have said to me, they're the same thing.

[His eye follows Kurt's glance toward the fire where people were already starting to gather around, trying to get his head around what blue's sees in them. Carl could see how they had skills, but he was feeling a state of uncertainty of if they were capable of being smart and acting in the interests of everyone (not just themselves) in this, like he was. There was a bit of fear nagging at him in that regard.]

Yeah, maybe. I wanna trust everybody will pull together and get through this. Hard knowing for sure.

[Carl hesitates and now, he has to wonder: why didn't he finish his sentence? Instead of asking, though, the azure-skinned boy nods then abruptly drops into a crouch to grab up his pacdisc. Since they're sharing stories, they might as well have some more snacks.]

I want to say I don't doubt that we'll make it through this, but I'm sure a lot of people are ready to simply ... give up.

[He removes a bag of oddly colored things that resemble lentils from it, twisting them this way and that in examination. The edges of his lips quirk and he raises his head to look at Carl once more, offering the new bag out to him. Should he dare to try some, he'll find that regardless of their irregular appearance, their taste is reminiscent of peanuts.] But [pause, another cheeky flash of fangs,] we can make sure we're the strength they need to keep going.

[Those friends are gone, someplace safer than this alternate world. ~~I had meant to type that in.~~ Carl feels Kurt's better off not knowing about Teleios. Or perhaps, Carl doesn't want to think about it because he misses it just as much as he misses home. The story sharing helps more his mind past that thankfully.]

Yeah. I know not everyone may make it through [maybe even him] but the one thing I won't do or let my friends do is give up. I got your back.

[Kurt is too kind for his own good. This time Carl says nothing when his true blue friend brings out more of an assortment of food. Suffice to say the things that resemble lentils are nothing he's seen before and he eye(s) them with interest, curiosity. Kurt seems to be wondering the same thing he notices, which is why he emits a sound of certain laughter] Pfffft. What are those? Beans? [He asks, before Kurt can offer the bag to him to reach in and take some. He takes a small amount without hesitation, throwing one in his mouth. It does taste like peanuts, to his more amused surprise.

His friend has the right idea there. He flashes a smile back.] We'll work together and get through it. Maybe it's time you met my people.

[Though fate might have other ideas...]

You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that, Carl.

[And he's being downright serious. His teammates and mentors are sure to be behind him, but to know that the friends he's made on Thisavrou are also there is a definite reassurance.

Lips quirking with amusement, Kurt brings the bag back to himself once Carl's got some, plucking a few out and popping them into his mouth.] Mm-hmm, [he hums in agreement, chewing then swallowing before answering with actual words.] I'm assuming that's what they are. They don't taste like them, though.

[He picks up another bean, rolling it between his thumb and first digit, wild eyes sparking beneath the cover of his bangs. In the whole time he's known Carl, his friend's never suggested that Kurt meet his people; he can't help feeling somewhat flattered that Carl trusts him enough to mention it.] Really? I'd be honored to meet your group.

[His lip quirks upward on one side and head bobs in acknowledgement to that. He's glad for Kurt and the few other people he knows around the number of Thisavrou people around. Without them, there would be a good chance he'd feel less confident in himself or the situation. But having them means he feels up to whatever may come.

His expression cracks even wider at the idea that the food stuff was beans, his head shakes.]

No. Definitely nothing like beans I know. They're almost like nuts. Something close to them anyway. [He laughs. The word peanut is somewhere at the back of his brain but he kind find it right now, which is what makes him so amused. Used to be a time he'd catch on to the word in an instant but seems these days that isn't the case anymore. Oh well.

It's true that he'd never introduced Kurt to his friends from home. His opinion of Daryl and Carol is that they didn't mind seeing/meeting people but having them too close around the house was a no-no. He learned that the hard way in the last world he was pulled into. So he respected that. This situation was different though, there was no 'house' in the picture to worry about, only survival. It meant friends and numbers joining up was necessary. His family knew that, he was betting on it.]

Yeah. I didn't mean it to take this long, but of course you should meet them. They know how to survive the same way I do.

[Too pointy canines peek past the blue of his lips, showing his own approval toward Carl's nodding. It's nice that they don't even have to speak to show each other their agreement.

After another mouthful of nuts, he dusts away any excess salt, offering the bag to Carl once more.]

See, I'd almost call them 'peanuts' because of the flavor, but never in my life have I seen a purple nut of any kind. These are oddly smooth in texture, too. Peanuts are like that. Only after they've been deshelled, though. [He rolls some of the legumes in his hand, gliding his thumb over their flat surfaces then tossing them back.

Thankfully for Carl, Kurt's never been easily offended by his friends not introducing him to other people-- specifically those that might disapprove of their companionship. His appearance has always been somewhat of a deal-breaker for most people; he's glad that Carl wasn't one of them.] No reason to apologize. You were looking out for your friends' well-being by making sure you could trust me.

Besides, it's better to get to know a person before-- [pause, a quick clearing of the throat,] before you put your faith in them. [Something he knows all too well and hopes isn't blatantly put on display by the way he drags his fingers across the scars on the back of his hands.]

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August Event Log: Part I

hitting the road

storm front

wild life

old familiar places

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