agogelogs | THE AMAZING BASE.

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THE AMAZING BASE.

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Welcome home, nerds.
WHEN? Outside time and space, in the aether between dimensions.
ANYTHING ELSE? There is also a fish. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.

MYSTERY FISH;

question the mystery fish

DEPARTING GALLIPOLI

The order comes the day after the Marie Antoinette sets sail:

PACK UP AND GET READY TO MOVE OUT. WE'VE DONE ALL WE CAN HERE.

DEPLOYMENT: BASE.

WE NEED TO RESTOCK. BE PREPARED FOR MORE TRANSFERS ON ARRIVAL.

STAY SAFE. TIME-STEP EXPECTED TO BEGIN WITHIN THE HOUR.

FOR THOSE OF YOU NEW TO COST: FIND A SECLUDED SPOT AND TRY NOT TO EAT ANYTHING BEFORE THE JUMP.

The Time-Step

The transfer begins like a vibrating heat on the collar bone, just a hum of sensation.

But the vibration spreads. Veteran COST soldiers often refer to this phenomenon as "the buzz". The feeling builds, not unlike standing near a great engine or the wind-rattled branches of a massive tree. There is a long moment of motion sickness and you can't be sure if the world is shaking you from the inside out or the outside in. It may be better to close your eyes against the growing nausea, as the world blurs out of focus.

A star shines in the distance. You may hear the faint rustling of leaves. Some swear they hear voices in this moment, indistinct words echoing off nothingness. Others say they feel a touch of the divine, that the eyes of the eternal look down upon you. Ancient bones rattle just out of earshot, cold and brittle and nothing more than the suggestion of sound. Or maybe it's only an illusion, brought on by the powerful technology grafted into your skin.

One thing is for sure: One moment you are here and the next you are not.

The shift takes you from whatever solitude you could find aboard the Marie Antoinette to the temperature-regulated hallway of what looks like a very poorly put together space station. Droids rush up and down the long hallway, fixing broken bits of machinery or just chattering with each other. A few crows sit on high ledges, looking down and watching. Someone mutters something about a centaur around the corner.

And you might just notice, provided you were in Gallipoli long enough to acquire stowaways, that the parasites lurking on your skin are mercifully gone.

For new arrivals who didn't experience Gallipoli: You, too, will appear in this long hallway, filled with droids and crows and humans (still filthy and clad in ANZAC uniforms, carrying battered equipment from the first World War). And you'll be wearing the minimal COST-issued athletic underwear and holding whatever one item you were allowed to bring. Surprise!

READ THE BASE INFOPAGE.

home away from home

Those who have been to BASE before may find a strangeness to it all: BASE seems...still. The windows show a verdant world instead of the usual aether (though with the typical paranoia), and the halls are bereft of all but a few crows. A man stands at the end of the long hallway you arrived in, waiting for you to get your bearings before he speaks.

Except, you know, he's not a man. He's a centaur.

"It's been barely a week since you left, by my reckoning. But for you, I'm sure, it's been much longer. Still, much has changed. You may have noticed we are...becalmed. This is due, it seems, to an error in our ways. We kept something that does not belong to us, several wild creatures that are meant to be free. They seem to have psychically called out to their home, and their home responded; we are now somewhat stranded.

"But let me explain—the Aether is the nexus between worlds and times, but it is not a dead thing. Creatures live in it. We have crashed onto the back of one such creature, a mighty beast, as large as a small country and entirely undiscovered. We have found why the creature has intercepted us: we have accidentally taken captive some of its children. Shapers, the wild creatures I mentioned, it seems they form a symbiotic bond with the creature, and live happily within its stomach."

He frowns, considering this.

"Shapers, I should mention, are creatures that briefly infested our fair BASE. The issue was dealt with, though we kept some for experimentation. The coelacanth took issue with this, it seems. It can speak, of course; we are stranded very near its head, and if you wish to ask it a question, I implore you to do so. The creature is older than creation—older than me—and only speaks once to any creature it encounters. It's said its wisdom brings kings to their knees."

His eyes crinkle in humor.

"My name is Chiron and I am the caretaker of this place, for those of you whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting. More importantly, I am a trainer and a teacher of some experience; if you wish training or schooling of any sort, do summon me. I will be happy to assist."

He's easy to contact, often found in the library, the training area, his capsule, or elsewhere in the station, attempting to fix what he understands and arguing with crows.

"We intended to spend this time exploring, for this is a rare opportunity to discover more of an entirely uncharted world. I hasten you to see if anything on the coelacanth can be of use, but be careful. Take only what you need, not what you may want. I intend to learn my lessons well; these creatures are not pets. Takes food, water, and any materials of use to us for our survival and perseverance, but no more. We task you with this: explore the coelacanth, and see what of it can be understood. Bring us back samples, but do try to interrupt the natural habitat as little as possible. We are guests here."

He bows and the action shows a slight limp in one of his back legs.

"I would join you, but I am far too old for such activities. Still, do pepper me with any questions you should encounter. I am always available on the network, or in person, within this hulking mass we call home."

And then he leaves you to find your capsules and rest.

CAPSULE ASSIGNMENTS

Once you've found your room and settled in—perhaps taken a shower, collected clothes, and eaten—a droid will approach you with camping equipment and give you a brief explanation of how to access and use the database. It's time to get your gear and go.

Of course, you can decline. You can stay and tend to the fort, maybe try and clean up this patchwork jumble of metal and machinery. But seeing the sights on the back of a giant fish flying through non-space? Who can say no to that?

the undiscovered country.

BASE's airlocks open into a lush valley, vibrant with color and rustling with life that has thrived on the coelacanth's back for millennia. It's a striking shift from the rot and gunfire of Gallipoli, unmarked by shrapnel, bombshells, and never-fresh air.

No, the air here is clean in a way that can leave you breathless, untouched by pollutants and stirred into a gentle breeze. It's a marked departure for anyone used to a more modern Earth or rough equivalent; letting the air sit on your tongue leaves a crisp, unsullied taste behind. And the whole forest feels alive, in a way that reminds you of how small you really are.

A white crow perches in a tree near BASE's exit, too high up to properly engage but a stark contrast to the bright leaves around her. She merely watches recruits come and go with a shrewd eye, feathers fluffed against the light chill. There are other crows scattered throughout the wilderness, some easier to find than others as they flit through the trees, sit on camping equipment, or hitch rides on the hoverbikes.

Besides those brief flashes of black feathers, however, you're left unsupervised.

Try not to fuck up anything too badly.

EXPLORE:INFOPAGE|DATABASE
talk to a fish | destruction report

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

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[Prompto gives the dragokeets a look when they start to mimic the camera shutter, as if they can understand him, and gets one snaking over to him for his trouble. It takes all of three seconds before he sighs and crouches down to put out a hand to it; it sighs back and Prompto makes a startled noise when it takes this as an invite to scramble up his arm.

But he looks back at Ryo, surprised, when he says he can keep the picture, and there's a beat of silence before he stands back up. It's a little unsteady, with the dragokeet half draped over one shoulder.]

...You wanna see? [He motions to the camera.]

[ Ryo takes a moment's consideration before answering, but in the interim, the dragokeets fill his silence with bars from songs he'd played earlier. It sounds like a right cacophony, but — Ryo's shoulders round, the hand that holds the cigarette flicking the lingering ash off. He pulls his other hand from the collar of his coat, letting Prompto see the full of his face again, his complexion back to its usual pale. Even still, Ryo casts him a guarded, but calculated look.

The dragokeet on his shoulder hums. ]

Let's see it, [ he finally says, shoving his spare hand deep in his pocket. He straightens himself up and makes his way over, not trying to step in too close to Prompto's space as he comes around to his side of the camera silently. It couldn't harm. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had bothered to take his picture. ]

[He brightens immediately, emotions playing easily—transparently—across his face, and clicks rapidly through the settings on the camera to bring up the still. He leans in closer to make sure Ryo can see it, oblivious; Prompto is just Not Great at gauging personal space and his attention is half on the camera that he holds out.

It is a good picture, though, even if Ryo's hair is pretty wild. Prompto had taken his time lining up the shot.]

What do you think? [Which is quickly followed by one dragokeet piping up with a "think!" at the same time another goes "what!" and Prompto snorts.] Yeah, thanks, guys.

[ Ryo knows that kind of look. He's seen it on nights where he's given earnest praise, shoved at a broad shoulder just to hear a laugh. He's seen it when he's turned up the radio just right, repeated his beliefs when doubts started to cloud the air. It's almost distracting, how much he suddenly aches for the familiarity of that. Almost, because Prompto is suddenly in his space and angling the camera in his direction, heedless of the way that Ryo's eyes temporarily widen at the intrusion. He almost opens his mouth to say something, but the dragokeet on his shoulder ruffles up its bright feathers and tucks its warm face against his hair. It chirps something, like a bar or secretive utterance, and Ryo sighs and wills his body to stay where it is.

And oddly enough, despite how tight his posture is, his mouth hikes up at one corner. It is small, almost indiscernible, but it's there. ]

You're not bad, [ he says, after a long moment. It's odd to see himself in stillness, much less at all beyond a mirror or the odd reflection here and there. His brows furrow minutely in concentration as he takes in what details are presented to him. He actually doesn't remember if his parents had ever bothered with pictures, but he supposes they might have. He tries not to make a habit of returning to what remains of his father's study as much as he can. If there were any, they're bound to be there. ] How long have you been at this?

[ At this! At this! is the chorus near his feet. Ryo doesn't look at Prompto when he asks this, but his eyes do flit to the dragokeet that makes itself at home on the back of the hoverbike in the interim. ]

[The silence is almost long enough that Prompto starts to get nervous despite that little smile, like maybe he missed a social cue or somehow bungled the shot—maybe the guy just thinks it's an unflattering pic all around.

But when he gets a compliment, mild as it is, his face breaks into a wide smile.]

A while! Since I was a kid. Didn't really take it seriously until recently, though, I guess. Always been more of a hobby.

[His eyes follow Ryo's to the dragokeet and the one on his shoulder snuffs right in his ear, making him let out a huff of a laugh.]

That tickles... [Yeah, he's outright talking to the dragokeets like they understand him. He scratches its neck, earning him a trill.] You guys are honestly pretty cute when you're not throwing shade...

[ The full extent of Ryo's feelings were hard to discern and harder to earn; even if he thought more of it — which he might if he were asked by someone in particular —, he would never admit it to someone he just met. He's all conflicting points of interest, his posture simultaneously confident and cautious — the way he takes in what's before him observational and guarded. But, when Prompto grins, there's something that goes duller in all his rougher edges. It isn't much, but it seems that and the way Ryo's eyes travel to the dragokeets might have some something to do with it. ]

Despite being wild, they're surprisingly curious, [ he hums, almost a little fond. But, as abruptly as that seems to have arrived — his voice smooths out again entirely. ]

It's a good skill to have, [ he gives, after a moment. Almost in mirror, his hand goes up to smooth the pads of his fingers over the crest of the dragokeet's head on his shoulder. He doesn't seem to need to look, as if he knows it'll meet him halfway (which it does). He lets his eyes flit back to the camera in Prompto's hands. ] I've never seen a camera like that.

I didn't realize they were such good mimics. Or that they were so soft.

[Prompto sounds delighted by it; where Ryo is hard to read, Prompto is utterly guileless. He keeps petting the dragokeet, which chirps, "soft, so soft" back at him.

He looks back at Ryo and then down at his camera, head canting to the side.]

Oh, uh, are you from Earth? [It's a totally random guess; he has no idea what to even look for, to determine if someone is or isn't from Earth.]

Orrr never mind. I think Earth has cameras like this at some point? But I don't really know when, so you could be from before or after that. Assuming you're from Earth at all!

[ There's something to be said about idle hands here, but the only plaything is Ryo's sliding sense of equilibrium. On the back of a massive fish in subspace and millions of miles from home, Ryo's expression seems to lighten in subtle degrees. But, in the end, his experiences have warped something core and fundamental. The darkness in his personality doesn't budge, even if glimmers of what he could have been and once was peer through from time-to-time. It seems that way now — especially now —, as something in what Prompto's said seems to have triggered it. What it could have been? Ryo isn't forthcoming about it. Even still, it unwinds from within like a dropped bobbin, the thread of whatever emotion is tied to Prompto's words and actions hopelessly entangling in the aftermath.

That gentleness reminds him of something he left. ]

They're clever and motivated, [ he says, almost like an agreement. ] If you're gentle with them, they're eager to mimic you. [ Almost on cue, the one that's situated itself on the hoverbike chirps back: "clever, clever!" and ruffles up its feathers, almost as if it understood the compliment Ryo paid them. There's something small that catches the corners of Ryo's lips for that, almost an upturn. Almost. It doesn't last, but there's more of a willingness to meet Prompto's eyes than before as he glances back over to him. ]

But, you're right. I'm from Earth. [ It is one of the few things he loves dearly. There's a small beat, the fingers stroking absently at the dragokeet's crest stilling. But, the dragokeet seems to have other ideas about that and prompts him back into the present by shoving its feathery, little head against his fingers in an unspoken demand. It is enough to prompt Ryo's words and fingers back into action. ]

So, that's probably from after me, [ he starts again. All things for him are large, bulky, and inconvenient when it comes to electronics. Nothing exists that is so sleek looking. ] What date is it for you?

Yeah, you had them singing earlier, didn't you? That was awesome.

[It's cheerfully enthusiastic; Prompto takes immediately to the slightest inclination of positive attention and Ryo is no exception.

He crouches down to their little audience of feathery friends, letting them sniff at his free hand and babble sounds that are equal parts indecipherable and basic phrases, punctuated by the occasional profanity. But he looks back at Ryo readily when he speaks again, even as another dragokeet bumps his hand for attention.]

Oh, I'm actually from another star. Eos! [Which isn't the name for the sun, but the planet itself. "Star" is just common parlance for the world itself.] So it probably wouldn't mean much to you. 756?

[He's already aware of how odd it is next to the dates he's heard thrown around by other recruits, almost all quadruple digits.]

[ Ryo's lips twitch up into the barest curl of a smile at the compliment, but he doesn't comment. The words seem like they're at the tip of his tongue, but he's turned his gaze and his attention up to the aether above, almost as if he were actually shy beneath the otherwise stand-offish demeanor he carries with him. ]

Yeah, it doesn't mean much to me, [ Ryo says, after a beat, as the dragokeet pushes its little beak into his hair and huddles up as if to go to sleep, its dark eyes lidding.

Ryo, after he realizes the little thing must have nodded off, lets his hand lower from his feathered companion and instead lifts the other to smooth down the hair some other dragokeet must have toyed with on the other side of his head. It falls into place obediently after a few passes, looking almost as if nothing disturbed it to begin with. ] I've never heard of Eos. [ Eventually, he lowers his eyes again. It's gradual, but this seems to be more comfortable for him to deal with. ] We've barely started naming anything beyond our own solar system in 1987.

Same for us, actually. Makes you wonder if we're even from the same universe; sci-fi is always on about how life elsewhere is gonna be nothing like what we know, right?

[It's reflective, even as Prompto lets another dragokeet hop up his arm, counterbalancing the one already on his shoulder. Not knowing anything about where other recruits are from is equal parts humbling and alienating, a reminder of just how small they are in the end. But just as weird is how much he has in common with people who must be light years away, if not entire universes.

He idly filches through his pockets, finally pulling out a few of the edible plants he'd collected earlier and offering them to the dragokeets.]

Earth must be a pretty special place. I mean—for so many recruits to be from there. [He clips that on as an afterthought.]

After everything I've seen recently, I think it's fairer to consider the possibility we're not, [ he says, with the same sort of pensiveness. It's a lot of swallow for most people, but Ryo's not just counting what he's experienced here. He's counting what he's experienced at home — the full expanse of moments where his perceptions of the world were ripped out from under him. Nowadays, it isn't hard to believe much anymore. ] There's plenty of sci-fi movies I know, [ he adds after a long moment. He scuffs his borrowed boots across the glow of the Earth, face neutral. ] But, it looks like this one had a pretty big budget.

[ Is he... Joking? Yes. There's a odd little quiver at his shoulders, like he'd have laughed at his own stupid jest once upon a time, but he doesn't anymore. Not to mention, he'd rather not disturb the dragokeet that's taken to sleeping so soundly against him — it lets out a mumble of something in its sleep. Something to the effect of more Fleetwood Mac. It's enough that Ryo pretends he never heard it. And maybe he hasn't, because there is something almost quiet that catches at the corners of his expression — makes the blue of his eyes almost too blue as he hums out an affirmation. ]

The Earth is beautiful, [ he says, eventually. His voice is soft somehow, the edges no longer nearly as blunt. ] Most places that harbor life must be.

[ He's always found solace in that. Though humanity often destroyed what it lived against, pockets of nature existed everywhere. It had been a long time since Ryo had been allowed to truly enjoy it. ]

[Prompto laughs outright at the joke, glancing up at the forest around them.]

Dude, right? This is so far beyond anything I've seen. Barring things like divine intervention, I guess. There's so much here that's just incredible, and that's without getting started on the fact we're on a fish—or all of this!

[He motions up to the aether above them, a kaleidoscope of color and every astronomical phenomenon he can think of, even as the dragokeet on that arm makes a sound of protest and scurries higher up his shoulder. Prompto's quick to offer it a soft apology, which it echoes back at him.

He runs the tips of his fingers through its feathers, a little pensive.]

I've only been to Earth during...um, the Great War. I'd like to see it sometime when it's not like that.

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THE AMAZING BASE.

#promptoshaming

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tumbles back into tags with gusto finally...

here i am for i am a slow turtle

do not worry i love all good good prompto tags

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