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ximilialog2023-06-01 06:40 pm
- ! event log,
- adventure time: finn mertens,
- adventure time: jake the dog,
- fear street: ziggy berman,
- grishaverse: the darkling,
- gundam seed/destiny: yzak jule,
- lockwood & co: anthony lockwood,
- pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- red vs blue: felix,
- star trek aos: james t. kirk,
- star trek aos: leonard mccoy,
- the old guard: andromache,
- yakuza: zhao tianyou
MISSION: THE AI AND THE COMMANDER
● ● ● M I S S I O N 1 4 . 0
The hum of the teleportation platform is familiar, filling your ears as the bright light dissipates enough to safely open your eyes. You feel something solid beneath your feet, and the lack of scent from the asphalt and dirt in Nuhiri and Deumia marks a departure from anything resembling a planet, the space around you giving you no reason to think anything of it. You're on the Ximilia once again — finally. Another mission successfully accomplished, for whatever other hardships you and the rest of the team have endured. Hot food and hot showers await, and Newt will surely be scurrying off to prepare for the team’s usual post-mission movie night.
You’re back and you can’t wait for Viveca to greet you, and for Degar to take the orb away, back to the North Wing to join the other ones.
Except … the station’s walls appear to be peeling, and some of the equipment looks a little older and unpolished. There’s even a layer of space-dust on one of the control boards. And most importantly: no one is here to greet you. As you turn and look to your fellow crewmates in confusion, even now some of you might start to wonder at the change of routine. Ivy, who had just been handling the orb, will be empty-handed, but surely there’s nothing to worry about. The station is peaceful and still. Nothing feels amiss … yet. And then:
The sound of 0-L1V-14 — or 'Olivia' as many have come to call her — voice springs to life around you. She almost seems to sound confused for a moment, clearly recalibrating her systems for this strange occurrence, before the gentle tenor of her voice regains its composure and she recalls her mission directive. The lights in the teleportation platform seem to glow just a little brighter, as though the arrival of the crew has buoyed the AI's spirits.
Well? You heard the AI. Best to start looking.
1.0 The first thing you might think to do is return to the sleeping quarters, either to clean up and change into another set of clothes; or to take a much-deserved nap; or maybe you just need a moment to yourself to collect your thoughts. The doors to the sleeping quarters seem to stick for a moment, which isn’t worrying in and of itself, but as the doors slide open you realize that you’re looking into a dark and empty carved out space that resembles a place for storage more than anything else. The walls and doors that used to make up your individual rooms are absent, and the floors are stripped bare, with rows of perforated grates allowing the cavernous space to remain relatively well-ventilated. It’s clear that no one has visited this room in quite some time, and perhaps there had once been plans for it, now abandoned to hold a stock of random items in its place.
There are boxes stacked against the wall, and a shelving unit that holds miscellaneous supplies: cans and boxes, batteries and wires, old bound notebooks made of paper. Rolls of rough tarp are haphazardly leaning against the wall to one corner, and thermal blankets are scattered amongst scraps of loose-leaf, a sketch of a cluster of spherical shapes in different colours, and other foreign knick-knacks that seem to have no place on a space station. If you decide to explore this space you’ll have to provide your own source of light as none of the lighting above seem to work though the row of fixtures that you’re used to seem, at least, to have been installed. They’re just not currently online.
Investigating the room a little deeper might draw you to a simple metal box sitting in the middle shelf next to what looks like a half-broken lute, its strings missing. There is no lock on this box, as though it wants to be opened, and lifting the lid will reveal a bright rosy-coloured light. Reaching out towards the small sliver of light in the shape of an elongated teardrop will recall a memory of your childhood so vivid, you’ll think you were back in that time, in that exact moment, to relive it again. Whether it's a good memory or a tragic one is left up to random chance. Only someone entering the room to talk you through your memory will remind you that you aren’t actually a child any longer.
2.0 Perhaps you decide to forgo the sleeping quarters entirely, and want to revisit one of your favourite simulations in the simulation room. Familiar oceans, the futuristic bar, or the room filled with adorable puppies might be your first choice — but every preset you’re used to scrolling through seems to be different now. There are the standard, familiar pre-mission training simulations, and even the Lodgen Mountain Mines mission appears to be here, but everything else has either been deleted … or it was never here to begin with.
You might decide to go ahead with one of the already existing simulations anyway, or you might want to start rewriting the one you’d come here for in the first place. It will depend on your luck, and it will depend on the success of your mission-training, but a small shard of bright, silvery coloured light may suddenly reveal itself to you. It appears like a thin tear-shape that hangs suspended in the air. The faintest whisper beckons you close; it’s familiar. Will you reach out to touch it? Doing so will colour the simulation room around you with a memory so real it might as well be — suddenly you might recall a happy moment in your life, or perhaps your greatest victory or adventure. This can be shared with whoever enters the simulation room with you or after you, and will fade when you manage to locate the right door and leave the room.
3.0 The sunlight room that you may have walked through on countless occasions is missing the familiar bridge, the river that runs beneath it, and trees that surround it. Instead, the vegetation around you appears to be far more deliberate and practical, thick foliage like bushes planted in rows, their large leaves covering most of the ground and soil. Several small metal boxes with wires and buttons can be found planted across the space, each with a thin rotating disc that whirs and spins quietly. Each of these boxes appears to give off readings, each screen displaying a continuous green wavy line scrolling across it and text that displays the quality of the air with a percentile grade, the amount of it being produced, and that particular box’s designation zone: Mess Hall, Storage, Living Quarters, and Teleportation Platform among others. This isn’t just a room that simulates nature, but if you were to approach any of the small bushes and saplings here, it’s clear that the plants here are real and they’re currently working to provide the rest of the station with oxygen.
Further to the back of the sunlight room, a bright sliver of colourful green light seems to glitter and glint between the leaves. It feels familiar in the way that it whispers faintly, and if you concentrate you can make out the sound of your name in a voice like that of someone from your past: a friend, perhaps, or a family member. Maybe a loved one or an enemy. Or perhaps it’s a voice you can’t actually recognize. It might compel you to reach out for the light, but will you listen? Or will you turn away?
If you embrace the light and call out in answer to the voice, you will re-experience the action, the conversation, or the thought that you attribute as being the reason you are who you are today with that most important person being the key piece in your memory.
4.0 Looking for your usual snacks? Feeling peckish for that bowl of instant spicy space-ramen you saved for post-mission? You might head into the kitchen expecting the familiar foodstuffs that you’re used to only to find that the room has been rearranged, with far fewer cupboards and appliances, and more of what looks like typical space-fare: freeze-fried items and nutrition-focused meals sealed into silver foiled bags. What ‘fresh’ ingredients exist are even less, and there are a stack of dirty plates and cutlery in the sink that don’t look like anything you or your crewmates might have used. You may already suspect that this whole station isn’t the one you’re used to, or you might still be in denial. Either way, you may find through your rummaging the call to a little sliver of coppery-coloured light located behind the freezer door.
If you decide to touch the fragment of light here, you’ll feel a ghostly burning as though the glint of the light has cut your skin, almost cold enough to feel sharp — but it’s just your imagination, isn’t it? What you remember now as it comes back to life around you (and the team member or members who may have joined you) is the best meal you’ve ever eaten, whether it is something you made for yourself, something made by your loved one, or the meal that leaves your heart feeling empty and aching.
5.0 You may have become so accustomed to seeing the North Wing doors sealed that it’s your curiosity that draws you forward to the wide expanse beyond the now open wing, your feet testing the threshold as if you’re expecting an invisible wall to keep you out. Nothing happens when you step into the North Wing, though you might immediately notice the large tank that holds all of the team’s successfully captured orbs is very clearly missing. And not only that but the space appears to be well lived in, a small cluster of worn chairs and a table set to one side, and data pads and drawings on white-boards in plain view. They don’t seem to be much more than a couple of crude strategy diagrams (and a couple of silly stick figures in one corner) and as you move towards the crew quarters, some of you might instantly recognize the familiar room with its rows of beds and a scattering of personal effects assigned to each bunk. Photos are pinned to walls of a twenty-person crew, pillows and blankets are left in disarray by unfinished knitting projects, a diary written in a language you can’t quite translate, and a stuffed elephant-shaped plush doll lies at the head of one of the beds in the middle of the room. By the door is a neatly made bed. An analogue paperback novel sits on the nightstand, a bookmark set in the middle to note its progress. On top of it is a well-kept watch stopped a little after the sixth hour and a medal of service in the now recognizable insignia of the Ndiera Complex’s Federation.
By the far wall of these sleeping quarters is a bright golden starlight that seems to illuminate that side of the room as though someone had turned on a torchlight to the highest setting; it’s almost blinding. Moving closer to it, you’ll find that it’s like all the other slivers of light scattered across the station — a broken shard, like a piece of a large puzzle. Touching it may pull you — and whoever might be in the room with you — into a memory from your time with the Ximilia crew, whether it happened over a year ago, or it happened only on the last mission. It might be a happy memory, or it might be something you regret, which is poignant considering your initial raison d’etre for being here at all. It’s a vision that appears from your perspective and while you relive it, you feel outside of yourself.
6.0 The rest of the station still appears to be intact, with the infirmary, the training room, and the armoury in the same locations that you remember. Those of you who have been here for quite some time, you’ll find your way around by muscle memory alone; but even if you’re a newer member of the crew you’ll have wandered the halls enough to know what feels familiar to you … and what doesn’t.
The infirmary looks to be a little out of date, though it looks as if it’s seen its fair share of use. And it’s smaller too, the more recent addition and surgical area missing from the cozy space. The training room and the armoury share similar qualities of seeming a little older, a little more lived in, and with well-used equipment and weapons to boot. The training room is still padded with firm padded flooring and benches for sitting. Some of the racks and hooks (all empty) that had been against the wall have fallen now, and similar to the teleportation room, you’ll find that some of the paneling in this room has since peeled away, revealing some of the bare structure behind them. In the armoury, you won’t find your favourite knife or preferred staff but there are still a few choices in weaponry to arm yourself with.
Wherever you decide to explore, you might once more happen upon a bright bluish light that seems to whisper and call to you in soft, hushed tones. No specific words can be picked out through the murmurs but the feeling is all the same — it draws you forward like a moth to flame, but whether you decide to reach a hand out to touch the sliver of light that hangs suspended in the air is entirely your choice. If you do, you might succumb to a vivid memory of a significant injury you or someone important to you had suffered once, reliving that moment with too sharp clarity. Those feelings of fear or threat or maybe even satisfaction seem to come to you again as though you were there again — only this time you may not be alone as you witness this memory, and someone else has entered the room with you.
● ● ●
Present Day.
The teleportation platform hums quietly in a clean, well-maintained room. No walls or floors appear to be even the least bit dented, and now the Commander of the Ximilia stands behind the control board, staring at the screen as though doing so will bring their crew back by some wild form of magic. Degar knows magic — he’d come from a world so full of it. This, however, is something different.
Beside him, Viveca scans through the data that had sent the crew into the Ndiera Complex, as it should have brought them back the same way, with the orb in tow.
The Commander and the AI both turn their gaze towards the still empty teleportation platform before exchanging worried glances with each other. Degar finally heaves an exhale but the frown in his features deepens.
Viveca nods, her voice sounding complicated when she responds next.
F Y I
• For this mission, we have decided to run the search request mechanic a little differently. Depending on whether your character decides to touch or grasp one or any of the slivers of coloured light that can be found throughout the station, you will have the opportunity to participate in a search request. More on this is explained HERE.
• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.
• Any in-character questions to 0-L1V-14 can be asked HERE.
• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪
no subject
If he could he'd hug her tightly right now but he knows she was hurt when they landed on Deumia and he doesn't know what kind of healing she's had yet. Instead he encircles her in his arms but doesn't press her too tightly. Then he rests his cheek atop her head and just tries to breathe normally again as he shakes. ]
It must be the orb.
[ He's trying to make sense of why this memory drew him in and this makes the most sense. He's experienced this before when Karl appeared to him in the cemetery during his first mission. ]
Nothing has been the same since that day. I changed and-
[ It's clear that if he goes any further that he'll reveal what was done to him that made him into who he is today. He hasn't been able to speak about it with anyone, sure that he'll be exposing himself as a monster. But if there's one person here he feels he can trust over all others to not reject him, it's Daisy. ]
It's a long story. But I want you to know it. You should know it, in case anything happens.
no subject
They’re powerful, even when it’s just a fragment.
[Daisy remembers that pull she felt when she saw the orb last year on the station. Rubbing at his back, Daisy frowns when he starts to talk cryptically.]
What do you mean?
[She asks as she pulls her head back to look up at him, unsure if they’re still talking about his brother’s death.]
no subject
When he died, and my mother not long after, all of my family was gone. And I thought I would devote myself to the cause of protecting our home with all my strength. I didn't want others to feel as I felt: to lose a brother in battle.
[ His hand takes one of hers and he slides fingertips against her palm, back and forth like some kind of distraction. A way to distance himself from his words, as if all he's about to relay happened to another person and not him. ]
I've spoke of mages in my land. The army has a Mage's Council. They're in change of their people - the healers, I mean. And the Mage's Council approached our king with a plan to create fiercer warriors. Ones who would lose themselves in battle to fight longer and harder. Perhaps we could frighten our enemy with our ferocity and the war would end. And so I volunteered.
[ He isn't sure how much detail is really necessary. He's used to being vague and skirting around things, especially concerning magic. But again, he trusts Daisy and wants her to know why he is the way he is. Why he finds magic useful, but really only for healing and protection. Anything else makes him wary. ]
They needed to experiment on me to see how a spell like that would work. It was a long process. And because they had never cast these spells before, they didn't know the effect they would have. It... it did not go well. It was painful. One attempt messed with my mind and made me feel hollow inside. Another made my insides feel like they were on fire.
[ He remembers trying to hold in his pain, but he couldn't. He had to be held down as he'd screamed and tried to break away. ]
Eventually, they put on a spell that seemed to do what they wanted. I felt no different but they assured me it had worked. And just in time for the next battle. So I was unleashed and they saw the monster they had created: their weapon.
[ He still can't look at her, and now the rest comes out in a rush before she has time to respond. He wants it all out in the open in case this is it and she rejects him for what he is. ]
I blacked out as the spell took over my body. I went into a rage so brutal that in the chaos I may have attacked our own soldiers. Because my mind wasn't in control. And afterwards when I finally came back to myself they had me in chains, like I was a feral beast. The mages tried to remove the spell, but told me they couldn't. And I started going into rages all the time; not just in battle. While they were still deciding what to do with me I made my escaped and left Fjelldalr forever because to leave the army without permission is punishable by death. And I searched for a cure. Only to have the offer to undo my regret given to me. So I took it and came here and I take medicine everyday that holds the rage back, but it has not cured me.
[ He closes his eyes, a slight tremble running through him. His fingers lie still against her palm, waiting for her to pull away. ]
no subject
Lacing her fingers through his, Daisy squeezes his hand.]
None of that is your fault, Joric.
[She also knows that those words probably won’t mean much to him. It was still his body that caused all of that destruction, and he’ll have to live with those memories for the rest of his life.]
You were in a vulnerable place and they took advantage of your grief.
no subject
I thought I was doing the right thing but- But yes. My grief. To lose him ripped a wound inside of me.
[ He squeezes her hand back. This was a lot to reveal at once and he feels so raw and vulnerable again, like it had just happened. He swallows thickly as his emotions start to rise and he needs a moment to just breathe before he can continue. ]
After what happened on the station with Kovacs, I've feared my medicine won't work or I'll be separated from it. And then I'll do the same thing he did. I don't want that to happen, but I couldn't just tell people either. Daisy-
[ Cutting himself off, he lifts a hand to cradle her cheek. ]
I trust you with this. It's meant to be a secret but if something happens and I feel the rage building, you must trust me when I say to get far away from me and warn the others. I don't want to hurt anyone.
no subject
His fears are completely valid, and she’s not sure how the medication he takes works, but as long as he’s been here she’s never once seen him slip.]
I won’t let anything happen to them, or you.
[It’s not a promise she should be making, but she wants to bring him comfort. She lifts her hand to rest it against his,]
Inhumans were made to be weapons in a war.
[Daisy explains, wanting to relate to what he went through.]
no subject
Her promise brings him a small measure of relief. He hadn't realized the stress he'd been under holding onto his secret and knowing he could be a danger to everyone. Having this out in the open has helped him more than he could put into words. ]
You mean... you too?
[ It hasn't been easy to understand Daisy's background when she's used words like "aliens" or "DNA" but he knows inhuman is what she's called herself and that she has a power. But it was a power meant to fight in war? ]
no subject
[Daisy explains, smiling sadly.]
Not all of our powers are as destructive as mine are. But I know what that’s like too, to lose control. I didn’t have any control over my powers when I first got them, and it was—
[There’s no reason for her to sugar coat it.]
Terrifying. I wanted to get rid of them.
no subject
I want rid of this spell on me. It's why I did this. My regret is having it done in the first place.
[ He remains close, hand stroking her hair gently. ]
You learned control?
[ He's pretty sure that's impossible for him, seeing how he blacks out. ]
no subject
It took a lot of practice and a really good teacher.
[Daisy smiles sadly at the memories of her mother, and how safe she had made her feel during her time in Afterlife.]
How long have you had this?
no subject
[ He doesn't want to picture her afraid of herself of what she could do. It sounds like it was similar to what he's gone through and that connection makes him feel closer to her than ever. ]
I think... it must be two years by now.
no subject
And they just left you to figure it out for yourself?
no subject
They didn't know what to do with me. I was a valuable asset, but too dangerous to be unchained. They tried to remove the spell and said they couldn't figure out how. So I assumed they were probably going to kill me since they couldn't control who I attacked. I memorized the guard rotation on my tent, worked on squeezing my hands out of my manacles, and made my escape. I decided to find someone outside the country who knew magic and might be able to heal me from this.
no subject
They kept you locked in a cage like an animal?
[She wishes she could make them pay for what they did to him.]
But they couldn’t help you?
no subject
[ He sighs, pausing to rub his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids. ]
A part of me hates magic for what it's done to me, but I also need a mage to undo it. Magic can be useful in the right hands, but in theirs it was nothing but experiments and stupid arrogance.
[ His hand falls away and he looks off into the distance at nothing but all these bushes. ]
So no; they didn't help. They just ruined my life because they wanted to unlock more power, hidden behind the guise of helping our country.
no subject
You are not a monster.
[She remembers feeling like that in the beginning, that something was wrong with her. She also remembers how Fitz comforted her, protected her.]
no subject
This spell takes over my mind and my will isn't strong enough to overcome it. I lash out at everyone before me until my body is too exhausted to continue. If that isn't a monster, than what am I?
[ He wants his life back; to be fully himself again. Until that happens, he's cursed. ]
no subject
A person who just—
[She’s not sure how easily achievable it would be to help him, but she’s willing to try anyway.]
Needs some guidance.
no subject
You've been so good to me. And the fact you understand what it feels like... I couldn't have anticipated we would share that. Thank you.
no subject
You’re not alone, even if it feels like it sometimes.
no subject
I was trying to get used to being alone before coming here, but I'm not made for it. I want to be around others. And you still want to be around me.
[ It's said as if it's something precious. ]
no subject
Of course I do.
[Unsure of what else this fragment might do, Daisy reaches down for his hand.]
Do you want to get out of here?
no subject
I do. Just in case that light thing starts again. We should probably get back to searching.
[ Though returning to that when there are all these heavy emotions within him will be a test of his will. ]
no subject
[Daisy warns, although she’s yet to witness anything beyond what Joric has experienced.]
It might be more of the same, or something else entirely.
no subject
Yet I think there is little we can do to avoid it. I was drawn to that light and I don't think I could have turned aside and left it behind. We will have to be ready to face what might be next.
(no subject)