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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I see. It doesn't sound like an enjoyable space to occupy, in truth."

If Hux took offense, then so be it. For Chiron, it was a statement of his own observations. Be they gods or men, the higher someone's position, the more concerned for maintaining that spot they became. He had the luxury of being far outside those kinds of positions, and not once did he ever feel a pang of jealousy or a desire to make it otherwise.

"How do you maintain your own well being then?"

"I do what I can, because I must. I enjoy what my position allows me to do, to control--to lead our people in the cause. My personal feelings and life don't really matter in that scheme." Though he knows he's not being entirely truthful; he finds pride in what he does, triumph in each win he gains for himself--and each failure cuts. Now that Kylo has taken the place that was rightfully his, it stung.

But still, let people hate him, love him, be annoyed with him--it didn't matter. He know he had respect, despite all of that--and that was what mattered.

At the last comment, though, Hux snorted, flushing a bit when he realized it sounded a bit hysterical.

"I don't know, frankly. I suppose one day I'll crack. But it hasn't happened yet." He can crack when he's dead, crack into a million pieces, ash to be scattered into the wind.

For some reason, Chiron wasn't expecting an actuall response that gave such a level of detail. But he recieved it anyway, and it's an interesting insight into Hux - far more than anything he's seen so far. Well, it isn't a surprise, that so far given what he's just explained.

Chiron's movements slow as they move deeper into the cave, his own ears picking up some kind of...well. It's some kind of noise but he can't quite ping what it is or the source thereof.

He allows for a few moments for Hux's words to settle before replying. Especially that life comment. That's the kind of thing that deserves a moment's contemplation. "That is a remarkable sort of dedication. Not everyone can find that sort of ability within them."

If Chiron knew what Hux's people, what his cause was about, he'd have a very different opinion indeed. But living in ignorance, well, it is what it is.

"You hear that faint song as well, yes?"

Hux was a bit surprised he responded as well; then again, being around people who weren't attempting to stab him in the back at the earliest chance was one of the strangest situations he had ever been in. Even as a child he had been taught to be ready to take out another's throat because every other person was just waiting to take out yours.

Here...it wasn't like that. He knew that was only due to their short-sighted nature, their desire to 'help' in ways that he believed made them soft...but Hux still found the adjustment a bit more awkward than he thought it would be.

"No, I suppose they don't. But it's my destiny to rule the Galaxy, one day. I've known it since I was young--and I've worked to earn it since." There is pride in his voice, and he means every word. It isn't easy, and he knows it might be 'lonely', but he doesn't care--it's what he wants.

Still, when Chiron shifts the subject, Hux pauses, and strains to listen, frowning.

"...I do, yes. The echo makes it difficult to pinpoint where it is coming from exactly, however."

Galaxy. That's too big a kingdom for any man. But the opportunity to ask about that, because it seems so broad a responsibility, is gone. How did planets retain their culture, never mind individual countries or even tribes?

Chiron's ears strain, and he holds up a palm in Hux's direction to request quiet while he tries to determine the correct direction. He is quiet, and one finger bounces around the area as if tracing the surfaces that would cause the echoes to bounce.

"I think I've got it," he says finally, pointing to their upper left. "That way."

Hux stays completely silent, letting Chiron sort it out; perhaps being part...horse? he has better ears than a human. It wouldn't surprise him, frankly--Hux has never considered his ears particularly special, anyways.

Giving a nod, Hux adjusts his direction, keeping his voice more toned down, walking slower, every twenty steps to stop and check for the sound again.

"I wonder if it is a wise idea to go towards such a thing." And yet, he certainly isn't stopping.

"If not now, when will the opportunity arise again?"

It isn't quite a fuck it, let's go but the ballpark is close enough. Chiron tries to ensure his hooves are as soft as possible as to not disturb any tracking-by-sound.

Deeper into the route, color begins to play on the wall. There is sunlight filtering in, but something else too, something with the greenish-blue hue of a peacock. It means they're getting close to the source of the matter (a lux arbor, quite large and quiet old).

"I suppose it won't." Though Hux would like to point out that those are words often said by people who die soon after.

Still, Hux continues forward, and as they get closer, and they finally come upon the tree, he stops, frowning.

It's--it's unlike anything he's ever seen before. There are things within him that would tell him that it is dangerous; nothing that beautiful could be safe. But there is something that curls up within him that calms him--and it doesn't feel like a false calm that a predator might use to subdue prey. It feels more natural and safe than that, like something lost to his memory.

Hux moved in closer, skirting the large pond that is to the left of the tree, wanting to touch the branches, the leaves himself, feeling compelled to do so.

Remembering he is not alone, Hux looks back at Chiron, quirking an eyebrow. "...do you feel that?" Perhaps it only effects humans.

"I do."

Chiron barely has words though. The light, the coloration, everything about the tree is beyond words for him. None of the nymphs he encountered in his lifetime could put on a display as beautiful and magnificent as this.

He moves through the little bit of water around the tree, barely noticing that his hooves get wet. It is then and only then that Chiron has the right state of mind to actually look the damn thing up.

"...Ah, this plant is apparently harmless."

Hux hadn't even bothered to look it up; given his normal reaction to these sorts of things, it shows how affected he is by the tree. Once he's close enough, his fingers brush over the trunk of the tree, relishing in the sensation.

"What else does it say?" He glances back at Chiron, his face slack and easy-for once ungarded and open, looking much younger than he usually does.

Chiron scrolls through the BCE quickly enough, although in truth he's only half paying attention. The tree is much more fascinating.

"That..well, the singing is normal, and that the sense of calm remains even after one walks away from the tree. Usually equal to the amount of time one stands near it."

It's a plant that Chiron feels complimented by. His own nature is something that exudes a sense of deep calm, and so to have something similar, something this outwardly relaxing, it feels right.

Curiosity is the word of the hour though, and he reaches up to bring a branch to eye level so he can examine the bark. "It must have no natural predators because of it's very nature."

"Interesting; that certainly is one way to stop people from harming you." Though, of course, it wouldn't stop someone from destroying you at a distance--not that Hux would ever want to do that to this tree, of course.

Sitting down, he leaned his back against the trunk, closing his eyes. Calmness, serenity weren't things that came easy to him; he was going to have to try and take a few leaves with him, perhaps for a later date. He knew they had been warned about taking anything, but surprising himself, Hux liked this feeling of calm, regardless if it was natural or not.

Opening his eyes again, he glanced at Chiron. "Do you have anywhere to be, soon?"

"A more interesting approach than many others take. Usually the secretions have more to do with poison."

Chiron ran his fingers along the wood of the branch, careful not to disturb any leaves. It was fascinating in every way, especially with how the light played against the branches. He hummed along with the plant itself, quiet, but still present.

As Hux settled himself against the tree, Chiron continued to poke and prod, knowing full well he'd never be able to gain a chance to see this tree again.

"Not really, no. Why do you ask?"

Hux gave a nod. "Poison usually is the quickest way to down something--or at least take it out as it's taking you down." Mutually assured destruction, and all; Hux believes in that.

Giving a shrug, he smiled softly, his brow furrowing as he tried to keep his face somewhat stoic, still--but failing. "I know it's the effect of the tree more than anything, but I'm not overly interested in exploring, more. I'd prefer to just spend time resting here."

Again, this is a sensation he rarely ever feels; perhaps it's selfish, but he'd like to take advantage of the time he had with it.

"I suppose. It was looked down upon in my own time due to the backhanded nature."

The Greeks just really liked stabbing folks and getting it over with, really. Not that Chiron would even think to utter such a general overstatement, but still.

At Hux's expression of wanting to sit and rest for a while, Chiron nods. The tree is downright intoxicating, and in truth, his mind is in a similar place.

"I've no problem with that at all. Just signal to me when you want to get moving again."

Hux gave a slight snort, tilting his head to the side. "Let people look down on it all they want; but results matter in the end." The ends justify the means. Not always, of course--but often.

"Of course." Hux was pleased that Chiron was willing to rest with him. He wasn't sure if there was anyone else that would take the risk with him; he was still learning who was willing to hazard time with him. This place was so different from the Order, after all.

"May I ask you a question, Chiron?"

"I suppose. But if cultural norms demand forthright acton and place honor upon that as the only correct way to do things," well, Hux ccould figure it out from there. As it was, Chiron knew very well how it wold read to his own people.

As Hux sat, he continued to prod at the tree, ginger and taking advantage of the height his normal legs gave him.

"Of course. What is it?"

Hux gave a small snort. "'Honor' is something people often cling to when they have nothing else. It's often used to shield bad actions," he countered. His father certainly liked 'honor' and he was the worst of them all.

"Why did you choose to join this cause?" He looked up at Chiron frankly, quirking an eyebrow. "If you remember, of course. Why choose to leave what you were doing, and come here?"

Somehow, Hux's cynicism about the concept did not surprise Chiron in the least. "Often, yes. But as I said, it's a matter of cultural norm, and plenty of groups rely on that concept among others. Depending on which city you were in within my time, some elements shifted."

Athens and Sparta are the obvious ways of expounding, but Hux hasn't asked that.

"In truth, I don't recall." But that had never bothered Chiron. Not when he learned the truth of the war and what it entailed. "But given all I've learned, I can easily see why I'd remotely entertain the possibility."

"I assume your city, or your group was high on honor, then?" Chiron often attempted to seem relatively neutral in their talks, but Hux had no doubt he had his own thoughts on each subject they spoke about, but often talked in the royal 'we' to keep things less than personal.

Ah, so he was one of those. Which surprised Hux, honestly; with the way that Chiron spoke on things, and the fact there was a doppleganger of him here--he would have thought of all people, he would have chosen this.

It made him more distrustful of COST than ever, regardless if Chiron trusts them. He would have felt more testy over this, were it not for the tree. "Does it not bother you, that you can't remember? You still trust COST despite that."

"The overall culture was, yes." There is a pause, before he elaborates on why his own responses tend to remove himself from the answer. "Understand that I lived a little outside of the city-states of Greece, on a mountain known as Mount Pelion, and so I don't dare to place myself squarely within the realms of men."

For Chiron, it's an important distinction. He knows his people, their history, their values, he was a product of all of those things. But to not lived within their walls, not been truly subject to their laws, that's a nuance that should be kept.

His response to being bothered about a memory gap is probably not what Hux is expecting. "Have you ever been summoned through magic or teleportation seemingly against your own will?"

"I assume you lived apart due to your nature. Were common people aware of what you were? Or did you usually live apart, in this form?" He gestured to the centaur's frame. Hux knew that he might seem invasive with his questions, but with the calm of the tree, he was finding himself more willing to be curious and just ask questions he might have simply made assumptions about, previously.

At question, Hux frowns. "...no. Besides what COST does, I have never experienced anything like that." The force abilities used on him to throw him across a room, or slammed into a floor don't count.

"Oh, centaurs weren't uncommon. More out in the wilderness, of course, but people knew what they were, along with nymphs, dryads, and all the other spirits, gods, and demi-gods that occupied their own spaces in every level of Greece and her many islands." They were a part of the whole place. It was a time of gods and their ilk.

Chiron nods. "Well, I have. Once before, and shortly before COST summoned me. So the sensations, the feelings, they weren't novel. An advantage over many people here, I'll admit."

Most of those creatures were unknown to him, but Hux decided not to ask about them. Given the differences in worlds, it wasn't so surprising, and really to speak on all the differences would mean they would be here for ages. He gained the answer he was looking for.

Though it did lead to one question that had some pertinence. "For you, what is the difference between spirits, gods, and demi-gods?" For Hux, he would have thought they would be one and the same.

"Yes, I suppose. I've experienced hyperspace jumps for as long as I can recall--and those can cause sickness in people who have never felt it. I suppose the feeling is similar...even if the result is different."

"Well, there's a hierarchy of sorts, based on parentage. There is a pantheon of 12 major gods. If they have children with mortals, those children are demi-gods. Usually my charges." That was the easy part. "Spirits is sort of a catch all, perhaps legendary creatures would be a bit more fitting. They're not born of gods, but they're non-human consorts of them, usually associated with aspects of nature."

That's about as simple as he can make it, in the end.

"Mm. May I ask what they are then, or perhaps more precisely, how they transport an individual?"

THE AMAZING BASE.

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