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

[ Sadly, it's not a look he's wholly unfamiliar with. His students come from all over, and the situations that lead to their "enrollment" are more often than not unfortunate at best. But it also means, now that he's noticed it without reservation or mistake, that he's not willing to simply let it go either. ]

It isn't about what I want-- [ Well, it is, because he's very much asking, but that's a semantic argument he's not getting into right now. ] --Not like that. I just don't...want you to lose yourself out here. If it comes to it, you can have mine.

[ In terms of sacrifices, it seems like a small thing if it means everyone else makes it. ]

But you need it.

[No way is Wanda Maximoff, who lived in a war zone half her life, taking food from Charles. They've had this conversation before. He's lived a much softer existence in many ways than she has, so doesn't it make sense that she's better equipped to deal with it? She's certainly been worse off than this before in a shorter period of time - whatever is going on with this place seems to half-sustaining them in some twisted way.]

They - we - need you.

Wanda, please do not make me point out that I'm old enough to be your--I'm not arguing this, this is ridiculous. I am not the one exerting myself here.

[ Emotionally, that's another story. And while he'll have time, later, to be thankful for the immediate offers of assistance, right now, he's scarcely been given time to think about any of it, especially getting passed around like a novelty. He's not far gone enough to consider this a hardship of a similar caliber.

Truth told, they all need it. But in the hierarchy of needs? He doesn't consider himself even remotely above anyone else here, and he's not about to give into an argument that declares otherwise. She's tired beyond reason. That's all it is. ]

[That gets a raised eyebrow and a gentle mental nudge: 'Are you sure about that?'

But this kind of connection goes both ways and Wanda's too out of it to block off the gray malaise and overall exhaustion (and yes, the constant empty feeling in her stomach). She hasn't given up, but she is tangibly running on fumes.

Wanda's aware on some very deep level that Charles is right. Still, it feels wrong to take his food when supplies are low.]

[ The brow raise only gets one in return. The sense of upset and exhaustion that rolls off her in waves is not a subtle thing, likely unable to be hidden (and he knows the feeling). And it only makes him more convinced of the notion that her stance is not coming from reason but something far harder to argue with--which makes it all the more imperative that he does.

Somehow, I think I'll survive.

He knows these arguments are cyclical. That she could easily take the statement, turn it, and say the same. But he's not in a place to listen. This is hitting her hard, and he's not blind to that. And he's sure as hell not about to let that continue if he can help it. Not in any way he can, at least. ]

[Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. Because she does exactly as he's predicted, shrugging like that's somehow settled everything.

So we're both 'fine' enough.

...except that hasn't settled it, and Wanda knows it, and a moment later she sighs. You'd never know that she's a few years past technically being a teenager with the face she's making.]

I don't know what you want me to do.

['Don't lose herself,' except that was never something she was afraid of. She's well aware of who and what she is and the realities of their situation. Taking a break won't change it. Seeing to comfort without an actual goal won't get them anywhere.

The reality is that Wanda's lived too long directing her focus outwards. It was always Pietro's job (and later, Peter's) to look after her - because as far as she's concerned, if she can keep doing what she needs to, that's 'good enough.']

Worry about yourself for once?

[ The irony of that request doesn't escape him, but he doesn't remark upon it either. He doesn't know enough about her relationship with her brother(s), but he is aware enough of all of their losses of late (at least tangentially) to at least wonder if anyone else has asked the same.

Her insistence sounds far too familiar, however, and he thinks not. He knows what he'd do in her place--exactly the same thing that's led to this stalemate to begin with--so it isn't difficult to extrapolate. ]

[She stares at him for a long minute, sighs, and slings her backpack off her shoulder long enough to fish out some sort of energy bar. After a few bites, she makes a face.]

Better?

[ The smile he gives is small and not quite happy, but it's enough of a shift in the dour tone of their entire group that even a slight change is more obvious than it might otherwise be. ]

Much, actually.

August Event Log: Part I

hitting the road

storm front

wild life

old familiar places

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