THE AMAZING BASE.

[agogemod]

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

Comments

[bivariant]

Though he urges her to stop, she's already set her feet down onto the warped, metal surface of the craft and busily peers into one of the large tears in the hull. Her hand fumbling into one of the side pockets of her bag to pull out her flashlight while he readies to

uh, dive right into the belly of the thing. Literally. Cheris hovers for a moment, peering into the ship's entrails with her flashlight while she investigates her own descent, and then she calls out: "Have you spent your nine lives, yet?" Read: she totally thinks you're just raiding the place without her, dude.

After she calls out, she descends into the ship as well. At a much slower pace than Midnighter did.

[thingpuncher]

"Only got one," Midnighter's voice echoes back. "Real bad at losing it. No traps, looks like, just moss and mud. Be careful."

Because the thought of double-crossing her hasn't occurred to him.

[bivariant]

"Is losing it a goal of yours?" She hopes not. There's only room in her life for one wildly suicidal madman, and he's the one she cannot afford to lose. Cheris takes 'no traps' at face value, and rubs her still sap-sticky hands over the moss in the hopes of scrubbing the rest of it off. All it earns her is clumps of moss on her palms.

Inside of the ship, she aims the flashlight around them, quickly cataloging where she wants to start. "Let's get to work."

[thingpuncher]

"When there's so much to live for?" Midnighter laughs, a coarse sound in the back of his throat. He keeps walking, kicking clumps of plantlife and debris out of the way. "You done this kinda salvage before? Real authority going for you, there."

[bivariant]

"Such as rooting around in a derelict craft," the look she casts over her shoulder is a wry one. Truly, digging through the wreckage is the highlight of a lifetime. Even if it's not, there should be something to dig up, if other space-vagrants haven't already come through. "-- the only 'salvage' experience I have relates to what I've been told to secure or destroy. They tend to be important things. So, if you have any particular goals, I'll gladly follow your lead."

[thingpuncher]

"Fun things? Weapons? Weird looking shit? I dunno, I didn't jump in here because I knew what I was gonna find. I like surprises."

It's all completely honest, genuine truth. Maybe something he should hide, but he doesn't care to.

[bivariant]

In contrast, Cheris had jumped into the craft with a checklist she was intent on making a dent in. Certain locations could yield particular gains, after all. That @TRENTCOAT was fond of surprises was not alarming, per se. Just foreign.

"Honestly? It's been a very long time since a surprise hasn't tried to melt my face off," she admits, and knocks on one of the heavy, closed doors between her and the rest of the ship. "Maybe we'll both be pleasantly surprised by whatever's behind this door."

[thingpuncher]

"Your face looks awfully unmelted," Midnighter says with a wicked grin. "So I'd say your track record is doing pretty fucking great."

But an invitation's an invitation (he doesn't think of them as orders-- maybe suggestions, at best). Midnighter takes a step back, and slams the heel of his foot into the door. He does this a few times, and the door falls off its hinges. Was it simply rusty with misuse or is Midnighter inhumanly strong? A little of both in reality, but it may be hard to tell.

[bivariant]

"While I appreciate having at least a few square inches of flesh unmarred by battle, I'll complete the collection one of these days," because underneath, she is littered with scars. Old blade-wounds, burns from white-hot formations, the crook of her elbow a tangle of teeth marks from when she'd undone a woman's spine as she'd tried to saw through her flesh and bone with the only weapon available to her at that point. "What do you think -- temple, nose or jaw?"

She's being cheeky again.

And she's moving to his side, to shine her flashlight into the dusty, poorly-lit depths of the room. It looked promising enough, but honestly, she's only in the market for what will help back at BASE and anything weird or unique enough to make him happy. Or something. I guess. "Incoming," she warns, and then ducks by him. Both her, and her shadow-briefly-full-of-eyes, vanish into the deeper dark of the room beyond. Her voice trails back: "Oh look, there's a lot of boxes. That's a lot of potential surprises for you."