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

[Even if they were made of chocolate, he would wonder why the fuck Nate would carry such a thing.]

I can't say I've been in a situation like that back home- not in a long time, at least. [He almost mutters the next sentence to himself. Almost.] I'd almost take the revolution back home than this. At least there, I knew where stores of food and water were, in case things became too severe.

Oh, we know where they are here. They're inside the creepy monsters that want to kill us!

[Arno has to pause at that, staring at Nate for a good long moment, going over what he's just said. Then, he chuckles silently, shaking his head.]

Fair enough. [He quietly grasps the gauntlet with the Phantom Blade, readjusting the blade itself, trying to make it seem as if he's only readjusting his sleeve.]

I suppose we'll have to be creative.

[Oh good, at least everyone isn't despairing to the point that they can't laugh.]

If you've got any ideas, I'm game to hear them.

[Although at this exact moment, he's more interested in the thing Arno's fiddling with. A thief notices small, weird movements.]

Whatcha got there, buddy?

[He snorts in amusement at that.]

Well, unless you think these things enjoy lights and warding magic, I don't imagine any idea I have will help.

[His head snaps back up at that, and he quickly shoves it out of Nate's sight. Hiding much? Probably.]

Nothing important. Something I had to fasten, is all.

[LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH, HE IS. He never said he was always a good bluffer.]

[Nate wasn't especially suspicious before, but he sure as hell is now.]

Uh-huh. Hey, if you've got secrets up your pocket, I'm not going to pry.

[As far as Arno knows.]

[Nate pls, Arno is the least suspicious ever, what are you talking about.]

I don't know what you're getting at.

[He says it with a shrug and a twist of a grin. When failing at the bluffing attempt, just sass.]

Uh-huh.

[He mimics Arno's movement, pretending to fiddle with an invisible whatever-he-has.]

Nervous tic, then?

[The grin he's wearing spreads wider, but he only shrugs.]

You can call it that.

[A part of him wants to tell Nate what it is, but the other still is hesitant. Maybe when this is all over, he'll loosen up a little. Maybe.]

Don't you have any nervous tics yourself?

Oh, sure. Verbal ones, too. I have an irresistible compulsion to make smartass remarks when someone's obviously lying.

[He shrugs, still smiling. He's not actually going to push, but he's not stupid.]

It's a terrible affliction.

How unfortunate!

[It's said wryly, brow raising as he watches Nate mimic his own movement on the Phantom Blade. One day, he'll tell him about everything- at least when they're not stranded in the middle of nowhere.]

It must be hard, having to struggle against constantly telling people they're lying.

'Constantly'? Wow, that's a cynical assessment of people. You think people lie that often?

[Probably.]

I come from the French Revolution, Nate. You tell me.

[Is he completely sassing now just for the sass? More than likely. Though there is some truth to it.]

Hey, everything I read about the French Revolution emphasizes what raging assholes people were. That doesn’t mean they were all deceptive raging assholes. [But he waves Arno off.] I'm not gonna pry. But you might want to work on your ability to bullshit convincingly.

I'll keep that in mind. [It's said harmlessly, but he does take Nate's words more seriously than he lets on.]

And I'll be sure if I plan on doing any such thing around you, I'll be more likely to not "bullshit" as much as possible.

[That was a joke, he means that as a joke.]

Good to know.

[Joke or serious, it works either way.]

August Event Log: Part I

hitting the road

storm front

wild life

old familiar places

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