KNOW YOUR RIGHTS.

[agogemod]

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

Comments

so much ~love~

[dorzalta]

"I have three sons." She lifts her chin to meet his gaze the closer he steps. He seems interested, still amused, and had she known him better, she might even believe him to be flirting with her. Wouldn't put it past one of her kin, really. "Named after my brothers and husband."

It is indeed a compliment, what he says, and he knows so little about her and who she is. Just how would that change, if he were to learn that the last of his line stood before him now?

"The only daughter I can claim to be is of the Mad King." And though her father was a terrible man, she does not find embarrassment of that fact. If anything, having him to compare herself to has made her journey in ruling all the more effective, for that fear tempers her anger just enough to hold her hand and tongue many a time. "I wish to know of who you are, and the stories of your life with our family."

Here it is

[foughtvaliantly]

"Your dragons are your children?" It was a peculiar way of speaking about them. While he knew how deep the bond between dragon and rider could be, he had never heard of anyone claiming them as children. It moved their place from soulmate to something more tangible. "Who was your husband?" If he was a person of more mirth, he might joke that she had married an actual dragon, but for now, he was serious.

That name is all too familiar to him. There had been a few mad kings, but very few that actually held the name rightfully as his father had done. The court might not have wanted the moniker to be heard, not by him or anyone, but he knew what was whispered. He knew what his father was.

He looked over the young woman, remembering the news he had heard about his mother being pregnant and now it all connects in his mind. "Daughter of Rhaella and Aerys Targaryen?"

[dorzalta]

"They are." The only ones she'll ever have, but that's not a topic to discuss with a stranger, kin or no. Mentioning Drogo in this place has her hesitating as well, but Irriella gives no motion that they are being spied upon, and if she is calm, then that is acceptable. "I was married to Khal Drogo."

Whilst Dany doesn't outwardly react to her parents' names, something about her does still. It's in her eyes, the flecks of blue growing sharper. Yet even so, she maintains something amicable and polite about her. Approachable, even.

Manners.

"How do you know them?"

[foughtvaliantly]

"You were married to a Dothrahki khal?" There were alliances made outside of the Targaryen blood, but never to someone of that standing and never so far away from their home. If she is the child his mother carried, what possessed his last remaining family to wed her to a Dothrahki? They were men of violence and bloodshed, tribes that reveled in rape and pillaging. Death was not a stranger to the Targaryens, but the Dothrahki courted it in ways that no one could match.

He sighs, shaking his head sadly. It was his fault. He hadn't been there for his mother or his children, he hadn't shielded them from his father and because of his choices, they bore his punishment. What they suffered, he brought on them. It was a dark thing to carry, the guilt and sorrow at having harmed his family so deeply.

"They are my father and mother too." His voice replied, a gentle softness overcoming him. Apology was apparent in his eyes.

"I'm Rhaegar Targaryen."

cw: rape, etc

[dorzalta]

"I was sold to him," she says, tone flat. His look--she doesn't like it. Not the sadness to him, nor the sigh which follows when he realizes just who she married. Drogo had raped her, over and over until she'd learned from Doreah the proper ways to ride and please a man. A khal. But she'd learned to love him in her own way, and he in return was protective of her, and loved her as he likely knew how.

Her eyes are suddenly cold now, the blues like flecks of ice, all thanks to that sudden apology to his look.

What use does she have for apologies from strangers?

No, to him, they aren't. To him, he's her--

"You can't be him." He's dead.

cw: rape as well

[foughtvaliantly]

"By who?" It wouldn't be their mother. She knew too well how violence could excite certain men and what the end result of that would be. She wouldn't have sold her daughter to a man like that. It had to be someone else, someone putting a high price on a Targaryen princess. Whoever it was, they were desperate.

"Time has no meaning here." He had been with COST long enough to understand that much, as well as having absorbed the idea of other universes. "If I could be another, better man, I would. I am who I am and I cannot be anything else."

Her cold look is accepted and absorbed. His failures and mistakes warranted that reaction.

"Viserys? What happened to him?"

[dorzalta]

"Never mind that." For however stupid Viserys was, she would be loyal to him in this, at least. It was one thing for her to say she was sold, but another thing entirely to tell... to tell her brother? It was different to tell Jon and Chiron about this; she had no expectation of ever seeing Viserys again, and that was merely a point in time of her life. "Viserys was killed by my husband."

He doesn't say much else to try and convince her of his truth. He doesn't sound at all like the man Viserys made her think he was... but that admission sounds much like the man ser Barristan spoke so highly of.

"What did you do with ser Barristan in King's Landing? When you visited the smallfolk?" A test. Surely if he was who he claims to be, he could answer that?

[foughtvaliantly]

Another blow, another death spread by his ill luck. One by one, the pillars of his house cracked and crumbled, turning into ash that tasted bitter on his tongue. His brother had still be so young, slowly being shaped and molded by their father. He had hoped that perhaps Viserys would be stronger, that the coin would fall and there would be no tarnish. But his heart murmured its fears to him deep in the night.

He doesn't know what to say to that or to her. Apologies seemed ill advised and there would be no point to them. That time had long ago past for him and he could not change the course of events with words. He felt regret, but regret wasn't enough to take away the scars of her youth. He failed.

The question catches him off guard, drawing him from that bloodshed towards laughter and mirth. "My harp has a sweeter sound than a blade and the people were always kind to me. I didn't enjoy the court as others did, so I would go among the people and sing for them."

[dorzalta]

She wonders if he finds her words like a physical blow. And what would he say if he knew her role in Viserys' death? That he'd threatened her unborn child, thus earning himself a golden crown?

Dany looks away, ignoring Irriella's soft, "Lady Mother?" She even ignores the way her spiderling soon begins grooming her hair--a somewhat nervous or comforting habit from the days of her hatching. Long and dangerous mandibles are gentle as they weave through loosened silver hair.

Only when he confirms what Barristan told her does she look back to him. "I don't have any other questions for you. I don't know what's truth or a lie. Viserys said you were good at killing and enjoyed it. Ser Barristan said that wasn't the case.

"You and father are like ghosts who haunt me, whenever someone hears of a Targaryen."

[foughtvaliantly]

There were things it was better not to know. The future had been apparent to him, but the stark truth was more difficult to bear. This wasn't the place to fully mourn and he would need time alone to sort it out, the notes of his harp the only companion possible for him.

This woman was a stranger to him, but she was of his blood, of his mother's. No matter how far apart time and death had kept them, they were connected by a thread not so easily severed.

"Killing is not a talent." He told her solemnly, neither confirming nor denying his skill. "If a man enjoys it, he's little more than an animal. It's easy to strike a blow, but not so simple to carry afterwards." He had his fill of death long ago.

"Father's madness was a cancer, but he is still our father." He felt neither love nor hate for the man, only obligation of honor. "His reputation was earned over a lifetime, mine was of one decision and the words of a man enraged."

[dorzalta]

This should have been a happy moment: to meet her eldest brother, to be reunited with family. And yet... and yet she stands across from him, the space between them like an insurmountable chasm, and she feels lost. Not the same sort as when she'd arrived in Jerusalem, no. This is more like the foundations of her life cracking to bits and pieces.

It's cruel of COST to unite them in this place. Even crueler for there to be no mention of another living Targaryen.

Gods, in this of all moments, she misses Viserys desperately. He would know far more of Rhaegar than she. He would know how to navigate this. Instead she stands there, staring at him, feeling like a foolish little girl.

At least she's shaking her head.

"Viserys said you died for your love." She doesn't mention how he thought it a shame. "It never made sense, the Usurper's words. Not like all the talk of father. If what I saw of him was true..."

[foughtvaliantly]

He leads her away from the rest, away from the noise and crowds. This was not the sort of talk for others to hear and he wanted her to himself, even for a short time.

"I died because I wasn't quick enough. I miscalculated one blow from him." That was the bare facts, but the rest ran deeper. "I made a choice, but death was with me from my birth. I was always meant to be reunited with him."

Lyanna would never be touched by that melancholy. Whatever his sins, she was not a part of it. She was a grace he needed, air to let him breathe and a fire to give him life.

"You saw father?"

[dorzalta]

He moves, and part of her screams on the inside. It's irrational, the sudden, clawing fear when he turns his back to her, and she's so quick to follow him, desperate to keep him in her sights. What if in that one second she dropped her guard, he was gone? What if they were attacked the same way Drogo was, and she could never--

Her tongue darts out to dampen her lips. No, no, she needed to remain calm. The likelihood of that happening here was slim, and she couldn't waste these seconds for fear of a what if.

Off to the side, she has a moment to look at him. Really look at him. The similarities between he and Viserys are there, but upon closer look...

"It was an illusion. I was kidnapped by the Regency with some of my--our allies." Her eyes are filling with unshed tears the longer she stares and the more he speaks. "I'm the only one of us left. There won't be anymore after me."

She didn't have the luxury of 'not being quick enough.'

[foughtvaliantly]

Perhaps he had been fortunate in never seeing family or friends until now. He had only been aware of himself, following a small collection of soldiers from mission to mission. Some of his men fell, some went missing, but it wasn't the same sort of pain as having someone from home and then they suddenly disappear. For him, there is less fear of it happening with Daenerys. Tragedy followed him, but he couldn't see this sort happening.

"I heard that there had been an attack during one of the missions. Were you badly hurt?" He asked, concerned for her. "They said there was a retaliation for the one who orchestrated it. I saw some of the feed." There is a measure of disapproval in his voice, but not directed at her. He has no way to know if she was behind it or not. The simple act of it was beyond his tastes and didn't fall in with the man he was.

"How can you know?"

[dorzalta]

"They hit me with a miniature arrow, and it made me go unconscious," she says in response. "My allies faced for more difficulties during our imprisonment. As did Kebechet during hers."

His tone has any vulnerability evaporating as swiftly as it appeared on her. This was the same disapproval she'd received from 76 and a number of others, and she cannot tell whether it's because of the violence in the act (not violent at all, really), or the fact that it was publicized. But her brother was from their world. Shouldn't he understand the necessity of making a point?

His question about how she knows has her sobering. "My son is dead, and the witch who killed both him and my husband cursed me."

[foughtvaliantly]

"They drugged you?" It's what it sounds like to him and it's the best explanation for her hallucinations. Seeing their father must have been a shock for her. While she had never met him, he was not the sort of man that you would feel comfortable being alone with or having in your head.

He understood necessity, but he never had any joy in killing, even if it meant protecting the realm. It unsettled him and overburdened his heart, already weighed down with more deaths than anyone should suffer in one life. His birth was marked by tragedy, he had extended in that through his actions, exacting that sort of revenge was too much for him.

He knew the power of witches, but this was strange. "You believe her?"

[dorzalta]

"Whilst in Gallipoli. I was far from drugged on their base." A pause. She shrugs. "Might've made my stay a bit more pleasant, elsewise."

And so she makes a joke in lieu of those circumstances. A weak one at best, but she needed to put that experience behind her; Kebechet was dead. Noctis, Kylo Ren... they were gone, hopefully back home and not dead. The rest fought beside her still. That's all that mattered.

She lifts her chin, unwilling to discuss Rhaego and the state he'd been in upon his birth.

"Yes."

[foughtvaliantly]

He took the joke for what it was, an attempt to deflect that darkness. Out of respect for his sister, he wouldn't press her for anymore details of what happened. He hadn't been in Gallipoli but on another mission. Perhaps if he had been, he could have helped protect his sister from that horror. He reached out and touched her shoulder, giving an encouraging and affectionate squeeze.

"You believe a woman that killed your husband and son? Would she not have her own reasons for hurting you further?" For his own sanity, as he heard nothing about his child with Lyanna, he needed to believe that their family would carry on.

"Our blood is stronger than any curse."

[dorzalta]

His hand is gentle on her shoulder, and his voice is kind. Both are so very different from Viserys that it's jarring. Kind and cruel. Is Rhaegar how Viserys might've grown up to be like, were he not driven mad by their circumstances?

It didn't matter. It didn't matter that they lived, for they're dead in her time, and she's alive.

"I believe the witch who turned my son into a monster and my husband into a mindless husk." It doesn't matter how many times Jon's contested this. The two of them would likely love to join forces to convince her otherwise, no doubt. "And I believe that our blood is strong. Fire and blood gave me new life and my dragons. Those are my children, Rhaegar."