agogelogs | KNOW YOUR RIGHTS.

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KNOW YOUR RIGHTS.

WHO? Everybody! Including fourth wall visitors.
WHAT? Time to kiss the spiders goodbye and strike out for greener pastures.
WHEN? 10 XI, Year 6 of Sanaliel's reign (as of arrival in Lemuria).
ANYTHING ELSE? Please warn for anything besides physical violence and move to a personal journal if it's beyond PG-13.

this is a public service announcement;

with guitar

ESCAPE TACTICS

READ THE JHASHCH INFOPAGE.

The departure from Jhashch has none of the ceremony of arrival. A few hours after the last of the mission teams report in, a bulletin goes out. It's the only forewarning for the time-step.

@SCOUT | @ALL

emergency time-step approved
expect it within the hour

you won't be returning to base; we'll port in supplies after arrival
if you have your standard cost clothing, change into it now
cover your face and hide the cost patch

It's hurried and without embellishment, and for good reason. While the teams have deterred and distracted the Regency and burned House Shaiy's residence, it hasn't stemmed the chaos. If anything, it encourages it.

Princess Chch still lives, but Queen Thsh is viewed as the Aranean ideal of a tyrant, confidence only bolstered by surviving the Regency's assassination attempts. COST has her blessing — and that of the Twin Generals and Prince Shch. Aranean soldiers throw themselves into brutal confrontation at their generals' behest, dragging Ythaway further into bloodshed; the male Araneans decline direct involvement, but they're skilled saboteurs. And the public watches; while the media teams couldn't completely convince them of the cause and House Oujh still maintains its influence, they spare the Regency no love.

This is the fate of the weak.

Young has already sent Serket ahead with the mines' valuable deposits of Ymir. And, with the queen's position assured amidst all the gore, COST wants to evacuate as quickly as possible.

» THE TIME-STEP

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

But the vibration spreads. Veteran recruits 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.

WELCOME, GHOSTS

A siren blares in the distance, accompanied by unintelligible shouting and the low rumble of engines. The air is chill, no matter where you arrive; the ground beneath your feet is like ice if the soles of your shoes have worn too thin. Closer, there's the crackle of an air quality alert and the creak of swaying metal. A nearby terminal declares the date to be 10 XI, 6 SNL.

The time-step has scattered the cell throughout the districts of Lemuria.

@SCOUT | @ALL

now that i have more time
if you weren't briefed by your commander already, this is an emergency time-step, possible through the efforts on jhashch
for those of you with my cell, the sergeant and i won't be present, at least not physically; we can't be
you can contact us, but the regency carefully monitors this time stream so excessive communication through time and space could be dangerous

you can ask the scouts available for more information
@ASHOLE @STARBOY the two of you are the most accessible

Almost immediately, a second bulletin pops up.

@STARBOY | @ALL

are you shitting me

[And that's it, until five minutes later:]

lets get this out of the way
read the 1st attachment
its not done but dwi

if youre new read that and the 2nd attachment
and if youre looking for us for some bullshit reason
x marks the spot on the 3rd attachment
we got clothes and weapons since no one sent you in w shit
(lmao ofc)

[ATTACHMENT: lemuria.html, beginnersguidetodumbfuckery.html, map.png]

The files are succinct, establishing COST's mission and role as opposed to that of the Regency. The beginner's guide even addresses the side effects of BCE glitches and wiped memories, for newbies who don't remember joining COST. These scouts want you up to speed as quickly as possible, because fucking up could have dire consequences. And they also really don't want to explain it to you; this shit is not in their purview.

The map indicates a cellar in one of the low districts, identified as the Skhan District. If you're missing an outfit of your own, the scouts have several bins of secondhand clothing and more than their fair share of weaponry. It's a mismatched collection and far from the height of fashion (unless scavenger chic is in), but be careful: while most of the patches have been torn off, some clothes still bear the insignia of COST. You'll want to get rid of that.

POST-APOCALYPTIC WEAR IS IN THIS SEASON

Blasters load six to fifteen rounds, depending on model; none are larger than a shotgun. And, because of the dangers of porting in and out of Lemuria, the bolthole has its own revivicator installed. Which means if you die in Lemuria, you revive in Lemuria. It isn't as refined as BASE's rundown tech; chances are, when you wake up, you'll feel echoes of whatever killed you.

READ THE LEMURIA INFOPAGE.

» NEW RECRUITS.

New arrivals, here by virtue of the fourth wall, can arrive in one of two ways.

The first is as a fresh recruit, in COST-issued athletic underwear and holding whatever item you chose to bring. Hopefully your clothes and circumstances don't embarrass you too much, because you're stuck with them until you can rendezvous with a scout or steal your own.

The second way for fourth wall characters to arrive is as a seasoned member of another COST cell. Their assumed missions can be to your tastes, as fantastical or historical as you like. Need ideas? Feel free to read back through the game's logs and infopages for inspiration.

HIDE YOUR SHIT

Welcome to COST's little bolthole in Lemuria. It's a cramped space, a basement's basement in an abandoned factory overrun by squatters. The community doesn't make much notice of anyone moving through as a rule, so it's easy to weave by the masses huddled together in rags and find the long, dingy staircase, leading down, down, down to a padlocked door.

The padlock will twist and open as soon as you tap the corresponding app on your BCE. It automatically loaded when you got to Lemuria and reads FUCKINGPADLOCK.IO.

And then there's the bolthole. Dug into the ground, it's not unlike being in a submarine; it's certainly cramped enough. It could hold maybe four people, very uncomfortably.

It has a selection of security cameras and terminals on one end and the rest of the walls are decked with cabinets and drawers, all locked by various means. Some are traditional and some ask for eye scans or fingerprints or "identity samples", whatever that means.

There is a not insignificant number of empty takeout containers in one corner.

And, thanks to the staircase, you can at least hear whenever someone's coming.

GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER

You can't hide in the bolthole forever — the scouts, for one, will kick you out — and Lemuria is a restless city. Many of the low districts are overflowing, too many people packed in too small spaces. And everywhere is an air of discontent, evident from disgruntled muttering.

It's often hard to tell what's news and what's rumor, even surrounded by terminals with easy access to the Lemurian network. Fafnir is causing a ruckus at the city limits; maybe someone will ask Jörmungandr to "deal" with him. Terrapin Labs is dumping genetic waste in the sewers. The Crosslands are already drained dry and the war is a coverup. A red dragon ate someone near the upper districts. Sanaliel's advisor is a shape-shifter. The list goes on.

For now, your orders are to keep an ear to the ground and maintain a low profile. In general, the scouts would really like you not to make their lives any harder.

» THE ANTS GO MARCHING.

If you manage to find your way into the Pyramid District, the Lemurian upper class is having a military parade and even the lower rungs of society have dragged themselves to see it. The crowd is mixed, though it naturally segregates itself, with the richer moving away from the poorer. Myths fit themselves in where they can; faeries flit through the crowd and a few kappa saunter through, promising eternal blessings for a few spare cucumbers.

The parade itself is a magnificent thing to behold, if you like gaudy splendor and overzealous displays of wealth. Each regiment walks in unified steps, their battalion announced. At various points, the parade stops and the soldiers perform demonstrations of will and might, shooting rockets into the polluted fog of the sky, shredding dummies with advanced weaponry, and sparring with one another.

Occasionally, radicals break through the crowd, throwing smoke bombs that bleed colored mist and sting the eye. They shout slogans like "Freedom for the Crosslands!" and "Justice for Lemuria!" and "Food for the poor!" Sometimes they cause a riot. Sometimes they escape back into the crowd. Sometimes they get shot in the head.

The bodies are dragged away without much comment, like it's a common occurrence.

The parade continues.

» I PREDICT A RIOT.

If you wander into the low districts, you'll find something else entire. Some would argue it's a coincidence that there are bread riots the same day as a military parade. Some wouldn't.

Basic sustenance — rice, bread, beans, and lentils — have skyrocketed in price. Fueled by tax increases and missing supply vans, what it means is the poor are poorer. People slink back to their hovels to beg or barter. And the rest, well...

The rioters come prepared, stomping boots and guns fired into the sky. The majority are teenagers and young adults, commandeering food shops and carts, scaring away (or killing) the owners and giving out food for free (or at a lowered price). Other people try to stop them and the scuffle quickly becomes untenable, escalating into bloodier violence.

What do you do?

» THIS IS SO ILLEGAL.

Maybe you got involved in a riot. Maybe your fingers were a little sticky. Or maybe you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time; the police force is largely apathetic to crime in the low districts and reacts all too readily with violence in the upper districts.

Whatever the case, you've gotten yourself on the wrong side of the Lemurian law and you're handcuffed to (or sharing a cell with) a comrade-in-arms. Maybe it's fortunate that Lemuria has only just begun to distribute power nullification tech to deal with the influx of myths; most officers don't carry it and even fewer would think to use it on someone who looks human.

The guards make no comment, if asked how long they'll hold you. Other prisoners, filthy and dressed in rags, remark they've gone months without knowing.

Escape is really the only feasible option.

» SPECIAL DELIVERY.

If you left items behind at BASE, you can handwave filing a request and COST will deliver them to the bolthole. The scouts will send an alert if necessary and you can pick it up at any time. Just preferably sooner than later, because there isn't exactly a lot of space in that cellar.

Alternatively, if you're a veteran recruit, maybe you just received an unexpected delivery.

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I. Timestep and Welcome
"Oof!"

Chiron has only time traveled as a human before now. Doing it as a centaur means that he lands with every single leg going in an opposite direction, flat on his ass, and hardly looking like the calm, composed creature he prefers to be.

He picks himself up as quickly as possible, ignoring the fact that there is blood still splattered on his face and hide, there's shreds of his so-called formal clothes still hanging onto his shoulders, and the remains of Jhashch struggle to stay with him.

As the BCE pings, Chiron looks down at the thing and starts to get his bearings. No matter anyone noticing his giant horse's ass right now, he'll change out of it in a moment once he gets to the Skhan District.

II. Ants go marching
Keep an ear to the ground. Keep your profile low. Chiron can do that. It's why he feels comfortable slipping into the Pyramid District, quiet among the lower rungs that have come to watch it.

Chiron doesn't flinch as anything that qualifies as a Myth approaches. If anything, being around them feels the most at home he's ever been. This kind of a cross section, it's almost like being home. He's happy to let two small faeries settle on his shoulder, as even in human mode, he has the advantage of height.

Watching the parade go by though is a mindnumbing experience. The same projection of power. The same demonstrations to get to the point. Watching it all, it's easy to see how the Regency grows of this.

As yet another break in the parade happens, Chiron ticks it off. "Fifteen," he says quietly. "I wonder where that fits in with the usual number of such occurances at this type of event."

III. This is so illegal
[Okay, so getting thrown into jail is...a new experience. Not one Chiron ever expected to experience before being pulled into COST's orbit, and one that after all of this is said and done, will probably be the height of comedy.

As it is though, Chiron's more than a little unhappy. The only reason he stands here is due to the fact he was being dragged away from a young man with a severely broken arm that Chiron had been trying to set. That, in turn, ended up in punching several law enforcement officials, and well. That had been that.

Waiting for wisdom to strike, Chiron sits in a small corner of the cell he's been chucked into, using the Norn cards that had been delivered to him at the bolthole. Looking at the patterns present in the spread, he only snorts.]

Well, that's appropriately vague, I suppose.

IV. Wildcard
[You know the deal. 200% down for all Myth shenanigans, for obvious reasons.

She stands with him, not nearly as tall, of course, but still able to witness the parade and its riots. Each one has her ears straining, as if a familiar name will pierce the air and she'll be forced into action. It doesn't. But the gunshots reverberate in her mind minutes after.

Another body falls. Her face remains impassive, so as to better blend in with their surroundings. Her eyes--those betray her.

"No one seems upset by the number. They don't seem very much affected." Period. It's like a veil of impassivity has settled over their eyes, making them blind to the outbursts of violence. "How long has this gone on for, for a place's people to react this way?"

"The obvious answer is too long," Chiron says lowly. He has no desire to draw attention to himself, even if the fae that landed on his shoulders have long since left. Here, now, more than ever, being covert is key.

Of course if they're successful, Chiron wonders how much he'll remember of Dany and their enterprise together, but that is a thought for later.

"The bigger issue is if this does not move people to action, what will? This is the crux of all things, and everything must be manipulated with care."

"If they rose as one..." She shakes her head, sparing a quick look around them. None are paying she and Chiron mind, but that doesn't mean they aren't listening. "The way they do it now won't work."

Just more pain and suffering of the smallfolk. It's awful.

"If it doesn't, then we'll have a handful of agents on our hands who have been brainwashed like Kebechet had been."

"There may be more work at hand that we are unaware of," Chiron says mildly. There is yet another part of the parade coming up, and by now, Chiron is quite done. He pauses, looking at Dany as if asking for permission to move on.

"If not, better to contemplate particulars elsewhere. Less cramped would be an ideal."

She's had enough of these outbursts as well, and ducks away when Chiron catches her eye. Time to move on. Happily.

"Isn't there always?" A rueful look. "A place for us to stay is important as well. I don't think a large group is appropriate, but somewhere to house a handful of us, so none catch us off guard."

We need to find a way to discover just what really is occurring here, she tells him through their bond. And the only way I can think of that is by earning the smallfolk's trust, while still remaining obscure.

"Mm, goodness knows that those exist." Chiron isn't a fan of the boltholes. But they're a safe place, safer than most here. There is a part of him that would rather sit in one of the parks here, taking advantage of the little bits of green space (they're in such short supply on missions!) but it isn't to be.

Earning trust means becoming known, which means obscurity fades fast. With this kind of time limit, how effective do you think that strategy would really be?"

"Plenty do, but are there any unoccupied?" She steps closer to him as they weave their way out of the crowds. "It's no wonder how the empire grows, though. With these sorts of conditions, any change seems promising."

Not so effective, when we don't know what they'll have us do next. She readjusts her hood, more to keep her hair out of sight. What else can we possibly do here, though?

"That's the true question here. That and is there anything higher up." People on the inside, he means.

Mm, the not knowing what's next is the biggest issue. Information gathering is useful, but without knowing what the other hand is doing, it feels...it feels like pushing up against a dam. Chiron doesn't care for this. I very honestly don't know. But of all people I have run into, I met another Servant from the Grail War, one I know well. He is outspoken in terms of what is Just. I do wonder what impact that might have, and if there might be something churned up that we can take advantage of.

"One thing at a time, I think." There are a few they pass who watch them; it's not the same sort she's come to associate with the citizens of this place. Those who keep to themselves, mostly. "I feel like we're terribly unorganized--far worse than usual."

She's silent, considering.

If we're going to stir up dissent. we'll have to do it with care. Which, she quickly adds, I know you already understand. If any of us are to speak. we'll need to make sure we don't inadvertently push people toward the Regency.

"I feel as if we seek origin of disorganization, we have found it," Chiron says with a sort of grimness that belies how he truly feels about how COST does things at time. Especially now. A more organized effort, even just a few moments to regroup before shifting, it would make a difference.

Chiron does see the eyes on them though, and he remains impassive. A statue, watching them back.

Agreed. I believe it would be wise to try and interpret what might drive those to the Regency and find a way to ensure that the Regency's features are seen as the bugs that they truly are.

"From the very start. It's a wonder we've made it this far."

Which isn't to say that she doubts in their cause or what they fight for, but there certainly is a disappointing lack.

While Chiron watches their watchers, she's looking ahead, entirely unconcerned.

Kebechet made mention of living with her sister before joining. It sounds as if she lived in squalor, much like those here do.

"The fates, I suspect. Their hands are strange, the choices they make even stranger. But we're standing, so I do not intend to question it. I do wonder if the Moirai are here, but I would dread to bring attention to ourselves."

The three ladies might decide one way or another against them, after all. Chiron can't imagine that it's a good thing.

So what was it that drove her into the loving arms of the Regency?

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ii. HI

EXCITED YELLING!

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