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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
[ THIS memory throws you firsthand into the cockpit of a machine. In the reflection of the screens around you, you can see Yzak's familiar (slightly younger) face staring back, sporting a scar that he definitely never had during his time on the Ximilia cutting straight across his face. There's a brush of nervousness the moment the memory starts - the knowledge that you're here to go after the traitors. The daughter of your homeland's former Chairman (now dead) and those who support her are hiding in this abandoned space colony. But this daughter - Lacus, you like her. You always admired her and her music and her kindness and even you questioned how someone like her could just betray her own people. It's one of the many things that sprouted hesitation and doubts in your mind about many things regarding this war.
And it's not only Lacus you know now on the other side of the battlefield. It's Athrun (who was on the Ximilia before). It's one of your former commanders. It's the battleship of the Earth Alliance (your enemy) who likewise broke away from their military. You were asked if you could do it; kill these people you once considered allies and friends, and you very boldly stated that of course you'd shoot down any traitor. But ... can you really? Your mind is already a messy swirl of emotions, and little do you know it's about to get a hell of a lot worse.
Two machines (giant humanoid robots, it's GUNDAM BABY) pop up on your radar. The lighter of the two sets off all sorts of ugly emotions in you: humiliation, defeat, vengeance, and you becomes overly-aware of the scar on your face. But in an instant your blood runs cold when you spot the darker of the two machines: the Buster. Visions of a dark-skinned blond around your age (your best friend, your roommate in the military academy and on your battleship, someone who understands and likes being around you) haunt you and staring at the machine is like looking at a ghost. The last time you saw this machine was when it was fighting by your side, but in that battle he was shot down, communications ceased. And no sort of rescue beacon was ever picked up nearby (because you were aces and he absolutely wouldn't die so easily). He was gone, dead just like the comrade you were both trying to avenge back then. And now his machine was repaired by the enemy you'd dogged for so long and fighting alongside the very machine that's given you nothing but grief and embarrassment.
It's like a huge slap to the face. How dare they use Dearka's machine. How dare a Natural use his machine.
The anger boils back up inside of you and you strike out, your commander by your side as support. You attack, the Buster moves out the way. You attack again, it manages to dodge again. Then it brings up its huge gun and fires, not at you, but rather to hold you off for a moment as you hear a familiar voice cut in over the communication system and call out your name.
Dearka's voice.
It's him.
He's alive.
Initially there's shock, because you can't believe it and nearly don't. One of those moments to wonder if your mind is playing tricks on you even though it never does so you should really know better, and yet. But after that shock, and even alongside the happiness that you can't help but feel, comes another wave. A wave of realization as to what this means. He's alive. He's been alive this whole time (and there's a sting there - all this time, and he never tried to at least let him know), and now he's fighting alongside these traitors. Which means he betrayed him, too.
And if you think Yzak now has a short temper and an attitude, this younger Yzak is a lot worse, what it feels like to be in his mind at this moment is like realizing things may not be as clear cut as they seem, but that growth is stunted because you've had this thorny vine of horrible feelings that were never struck down growing alongside it, choking it. So you're confused and angry at everything around you. Including Dearka, if this is what it looks like.
He wants to talk. Face to face, without pointing weapons at each other. But you can't take the chance, at least not in a way where your guard is down. So you agree, but when you see his face again (and it still almost feels like you're staring at a ghost because to you he's been dead this whole time) you aim your gun at it. Because you will not be tricked and humiliated yet again. Dearka seems surprised, but he remains calm, and you talk. Or, well, argue for the most part on your end because you refuse to budge and you can't understand why this is happening and why all of these people left you behind. You learn things you never knew about part of the war - about the ship you'd pursued, about the pilot that gave you this scar. About what happened to Dearka and what he saw and what he went through that caused him to stand where he stands now. It's a lot to take in, and you're confused, but you're bad at dealing with these feelings, so you react the only way you know how to, you lash out and desperately try to get him to see it your way. "You're being deceived!"
Dearka, who'd started to head back to his machine, fine with turning his back on you (maybe he can tell that you'd never be able to shoot him despite your threats), gives you one last glance over his shoulder, and what he says stands out more than anything in this memory.
"I wonder which of the two of us are really being deceived, here."
And it's those words that hit you the hardest, but stick with you the most through the rest of the war. Which isn't so much a part of the "memory" but rather something also gotten from recollection of that line. You'd begun to wonder, you'd begun to question. But there were always things around you that only allowed you to do that so much. You realized later you were the one in the dark - and while it wasn't entirely your fault, you didn't help much with how goddamned stubborn you'd been. It's a humiliation that lasts well beyond things like that scar on your face which you removed later. And while it still feels embarrassing to reflect on it, it also serves as the determination you have now to do all in your power to never let it happen again. ]
no subject
[ deception in war is probably older than she is though. ]
Who's Dearka? [ maybe if she starts there, she can make even more sense of it. ]
no subject
But at least he's not there anymore. So it isn't all too bad to "come back" to the station proper after that. Jarring for sure, though. So Yzak blinks, glancing over his shoulder at Andy when she asks - because she's standing right there, and that means she saw it, too. ]
My best friend.
[ It's odd to say, because he's been here for so long without him, now. Having his back, standing at his side, diffusing his sparks of anger (unless they're really deserved in the moment, Dearka always has a way of being able to tell) and serving as a constant, comfortable presence in his life whether it's while they're on duty dealing with something difficult together, or during more peaceful times where he'll be the one reaching out and making sure Yzak doesn't remain in that whole work-to-home to work-to-back to work cycle. ]
Since back in our academy days. We served on the same team together during the first war, and I appointed him as my XO when I was promoted to command my own team.
no subject
[ she frowns, thoughtfully. ]
Was this the second war I was seeing then?
no subject
[ ... ]
I was a hell of a lot smartened up by the time the second one rolled around.
[ His eyes flit in the direction where, in the memory, Dearka's machine had just taken off from. ]
That was one of the things to thank for that.
no subject
It does have all the build up of a life changing moment. [ and not just because of orb power. ]
How did you end up on different sides? [ she sounds completely free of judgement. one of her brothers was a crusader. the important part is learning. ]
no subject
What happened was he'd surrendered to the enemy ship and was taken in as a prisoner. But then due to actions on the Earth Alliance's part that had basically sent that ship in as a sacrifice during a large operation, they ended up seeking refuge on a neutral nation. However, that nation was targetted by the Earth forces soon after, and since the ship had essentially defected despite how fucked up it was to simply send in soldiers to die unknowingly for some greater good, they had no other choice but to aid that neutral nation as they tried to defend themselves.
Since they were no longer part of the Earth Alliance, there was no need to keep Dearka as a prisoner anymore. So they let him go. But due to experiencing those events, on top of getting to know some of the ship's crew, he chose to remain and help them.
no subject
Sometimes all it takes to undermine a war is understanding the other side.
[ she pauses. ] I'm old enough to have been on the wrong side plenty of times. Sometimes you don't have the whole picture. Sometimes there aren't any right sides either.
Dearka explained more to you after this?
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He tried explaining a lot back then. Although, even if I'd known more ... I'm not sure I would have so easily changed my mind.
[ A softer way of saying that he was a stubborn idiot. ]
But he did tell me more, eventually. When I was more willing to listen. When I got sick of feeling like I was being jerked around by forces that I couldn't see or control. When I realized what I should really be protecting, and what else I was on that battlefield for.
And when we actually a chance to speak in person again.
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[ it's a part of her, whether she likes it or not. ]
Did this war end with you both back on good terms?
no subject
And, [ His gaze idly falls downward to the very real earth and grass beneath them, as opposed to the simulated grass they've grown used to. ] I quickly realized what it really was I should be doing. Protecting. Aside from just my home and my people. Not that my priority for those things have lessened at all since then.
Not to mention! [ His head snaps back up after that, voice taking on that familiar assuredness he tends to carry. ] He's the XO of my team. I wouldn't trust anybody else in that sort of positions.
no subject
It's good to see the start of a growth spurt. [ she can't help but tease him, just a little bit. ]
I'm glad you were able to become friends again, and that he was able to help you figure out the truth.
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It would have been a lot easier to fire at each other on the battlefield, if it were any other case.
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War can break people apart as much as it can bring them closer. Sometimes both at once. I'm glad for you here, Yzak.
no subject
[ Short, but sincere.
... ]
There aren't many people I trust that deeply. And I don't like bothering with too many people because I don't have the interest or the time and there are so many who end up wasting it. [ His roundabout way of saying that he doesn't have too many friends, back home. ]
So I'm grateful I didn't lose him.
[ In both senses of the word. ]
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[ she smiles faintly at him, then reaches out to clasp his shoulder. ]
Thanks for sharing him with me. If he doesn't know all of this from you, make sure you tell him one day.
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[ And maybe it's because this memory stirred up some old feelings, mixed them in with the persistent hurt that simply sits there inside of him now. Loss. Loneliness. Fleeting moments and missed chances and regrets. But Yzak adds, a little more softly. ]
But I will.
no subject
Even if he knows, sometimes it's still good to hear it.