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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.
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 | @ALLIt'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.
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
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 | @ALLAlmost immediately, a second bulletin pops up.
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
@STARBOY | @ALLThe 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.
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 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.
no subject
His fingers twine as closely with hers as she wants them to; he lets her tug them through the crowd.
"Araneans don't breathe fire. It might be that it can talk to you, or to me, but it might be that it can't, or that it won't want to." After a beat of silence, passing through the crush of people, he adds, "If it found itself here without knowing how, it might be frightened. Like a horse gone out of control."
But bigger. And hotter.
no subject
Suffice it to say, she won't bring him anywhere near a violent dragon, not with him in this state. She's no intention of venturing closer to the creature either, not without some reassurance that it won't strike her needlessly.
"We've not heard its roars, or seen it flying overhead. They might've restrained it, or it may very well be wild and angry, destroying another part of the city."
no subject
"Isn't it better that we haven't seen or heard it ourselves? These people... there was a girl with wings back there, and not one head turned. It might be that they're used to it, that they know what a dragon is," (he means in terms of what it can do, how to tame it,) "but it might be that it's not riled enough to range over more of the city. Would yours stay in one place if you weren't there?"
no subject
When it comes to dragons, perhaps she's a touch too arrogant. Not that it's a thought which has crossed her mind. Dragons and dragonriders are so intrinsic to her family that Daario had not been wrong when he told her those months back that a dragon queen with no dragons is no queen.
"Perhaps. I don't know what to make of this world, to be honest." Trudging past a larger grouping of locals, she makes sure that neither of them are jostled. Mainly him, though. "They've a wide range of different peoples here. Why not dragons as well?"
UR NOT THEIR REAL MOM, DANY
"That's not what I meant. I don't want to see you hurt any more than you want to see me hurt. Promise you won't get too close until you're sure of it."
If he were perfectly well, this is not a request he would honor as much as she'd want him to. Maybe that goes both ways.
"Crowded, stinking, full of hungry people. Reminds me of somewhere, in that. I wonder what place here is like Flea Bottom?"
HORRIFIED GASP
"I love you," she murmurs sweetly against his lips.
No promise is made, but it is noted. Before those around them grow agitated and can jostle them into movement, she lightly tugs his hand to spur him back into motion behind her.
"Are you sure you really want to see?"
no subject
"I love you. But aye, I'm sure, I really want to see. Not many dragons in our world.
"This place is like a maze."
no subject
He's like her. Who else would be brave enough to stand in front of Drogon like he had?
"It would help if we could see over all these heads. Do you think we should ask someone?"
no subject
"I didn't say I wanted to see that. I said I wondered what it was like."
His curiosity about what a big city might hold, about what's out there in the wide world, has always rubbed against his love for the North, its cold winds and its wide-open spaces and its vast oceans of trees. Someday, he'll have to reckon with that, he knows. If fortune is with them and they overcome everything that faces that at home, they will live in King's Landing.
"I don't think it would hurt to ask someone, if they look like they know what they're about."
His gaze darts over the crowd, and he chooses a young woman. "Her." He's already on the approach.
no subject
She could tell him plenty of what it might be like, having seen it firsthand in Slaver's Bay. The widened gaps between rich and poor, the daily struggles. Slavery at its finest.
Soon enough he's the one leading them, and she falls into step, just slightly behind but still close enough to force those around them to grant a larger berth. The woman he points out looks tired and dirty, looking at the two of them with a guardedness deep in her eyes. But she doesn't turn away. "Got any food?" she asks them.
no subject
"No." He says it regretfully. Isn't there something they could offer the girl? "There's talk of a dragon. Have you heard anything of it?"
The North has known famine, albeit long before his time; his main experience of people who are starving, outside of Paris, outside of the trenches of Gallipoli, is hungry Wildlings. Something in the girl's face and her big dark eyes reminds him of Sam's friend, Gilly, and rabbits she'd meant to breed long ago.