agogelogs | all this energy calling me

all this energy calling me

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Welcome home, nerds.
WHEN? Outside time and space, in the aether between dimensions.
ANYTHING ELSE? Violence, as always. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence, and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.

TOUCH BASE;

backfill armed services echelon
COST re-appropriated vehicle 854A-5.2

read the base setting infopage

DEPARTING FRANCE

The order comes out the second day after the Tuileries is sacked:

PACK UP, 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, and it starts like a vibrating heat on the collar bone, not painful, not to start with. Just a hum of sensation. But the vibration spreads. Veteran COST soldiers often refer to this phenomena as 'the buzz'. The sensation builds, feeling not unlike standing near a great engine, or the wind rattling the branches of a great tree. There is long a moment of motion sickness, and one cannot always be sure if it is you that is shaking from the inside out, or the world that is shaking you from the outside in. It may just 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. Some swear they feel a touch of the divine; the eyes of the eternal look down upon you. Ancient bones rattle just out of earshot, cold and brittle. Or maybe it's an illusion brought on by powerful technology grafted into your skin.

One thing is for sure: One moment you are here, and the next, you are not.

Nausea is commonly accompanied by this shift. One moment, you're in the cold of France. The next, you're in a temperature regulated hallway, looking not unlike 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. Crows sit on high ledges, looking down, watching.

(For those of you who just apped in and didn't participate in the TDM, you'll appear alongside your comrades now, standing in this long hallway filled with droids and crows and men and women in clothing from 18th century France. Of course, you'll be wearing the minimal COST athletic issued underwear, and holding whatever one item you were allowed to bring. Surprise!)

At the end of the hall is a long table with heaps of used clothing on it. The sizes and styles vary, along with color and detail (AKA none look exactly like the linked pics, they're just a baseline, use your ~imagination~). One thing's for certain, all the clothing has been used before, with holes darned and worn edges. They're all clean, though, and each bears a single patch with the words 'KNOW YOUR RIGHTS, THE FUTURE IS UNWRITTEN' and 'COST sewn into the side.

They're not exactly high fashion, but they might be more comfortable than the late 18th century digs you're still wearing, if you showed up in France. Or, you know, the underwear.

Meet the Drill Sergeant

There is the echoing sound of hooves, and a strange creature emerges from a nearby room: a centaur. He smiles kindly, happy to see you've arrived. He has a significant limp in his back left leg, causing his hoof-beats to pitch an irregular rhythm as he walks slowly through the hall.

"Hello, all!" His voice is kind, but it's pitched to carry. "You may know me as Sergeant-- I am in technicality a drill sergeant. You may call me Chiron, if you wish, though I'm to understand some may know others with the same name." He laughs, amused. "In any case, welcome home. It is not much, but we have tried to make it hospitable for you in your time here. Your room assignments have been uploaded onto your BCEs, along with some technological upgrades we've been testing out. There are a few prototypes and experiments you may find in your rooms as well. Our agents are..." He looks up at the crows. "We are a curious people."

He looks over to the table stacked with clothing. "Please pick out what suits you, and make adjustments as needed. If you have any complaints, and wish to change your rooming situation, your username, anything of that nature, please send me a request. I am also known in some capacity as a trainer-"

One of the crows caws, and it sounds almost sarcastic.

Sergeant Chiron ignores it. "Hm. If you wish for me to make a training regiment for you, to better your skill in this organization, please let me know. But for now: I am to understand your last mission was... tumultuous. Please, rest and acclimate yourself to BASE."

He turns to leave, before stopping-- "And please be kind to the crows. They remember slights."

The crows' cawing sounds like laughter.

HOTSPOTS

There's been some technical difficulty since the prognosticators had their little meltdown. Coolant is in short supply, and some of the corridors of BASE are a little warmer than others. Pleasantly warm. Comfortably so, like walking through a sunbeam. In these hotspots, it feels comfortable and snug.

Characters walking through them will feel the urge to lie down and rest, maybe take a quick little nap.

Sleeping in these spots will cause unsettling or confusing dreams, but not nightmares. Dreams in these hotspots-- and sleeping in these hotspots will never be dreamless-- will be hard to remember upon waking, but they seemed very... strange. Almost as though you were intruding on something important but private.

Yet you can't quite remember it when you wake.

If you're clever and watchful, you'll notice the crows avoid these areas, so you can avoid them as well before you're seized by the urge to lie down and nap.

Particularly watchful characters may notice the hotspots are growing in size and number as the days wear on.

(More information about these and the forthcoming December plot will be coming in an infopost on the 12th, but if you have any questions now, feel free to ask here!)

read the base setting infopage

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC PLURK DISCORD

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's good that Hei is remaining focused, because a quiet "I'm a man..." can be heard muttered by Noctis in the middle of Chiron's explanation. Whatever. Irrelevant, for now.

"That was more surprising than anything we said or did. Who's "her"?"

"The crows. Translation is not my forte." He shrugs. "Do you have any other burning questions to disregard the answer to, or will this be sufficient?"

"Translation is not your forte, but you speak this eloquently? Poetically?" A glance to Noctis, narrow, before his eyes trail back. "I'm finding it difficult to believe, Sergeant Chiron."

He may have signed up, but fighting for a cause brings him no closer to the trust he should have in his employers. Far too many have brought him more scars to hide.

"You said we're allowed our concerns. I have more now than when we began."

"... and weren't our BCEs translating stuff for us too back when we were in Fance? Or France, I guess..." In truth, the name of the country wasn't his main concern.

"Figures you should use something like that if you're having problems too. Besides... I'm just starting with something small that's on my mind, because this guy was so worried about it. I've got bigger issues too, but that's for later."

Chiron shakes his head, a tired sigh. "I am speaking Greek, my friends. The BCE translates, but not always well. To be perfectly honest, I never know what pronoun to give the crows, and the BCE cannot always translate based on my intent. She, they, he, them, it." He shakes his head. "There are even more in some of the languages native to... the crows."

"I promise you, not everything is a great secret. But if you wish to see it as such, I cannot blame you. Tell me your concerns, your questions, and I will do my best to meet them."

That adds up, as does the reason they're able to talk to the crows in the first place. A language for all animals — can they speak to them now, or just those species with a higher intelligence and a variety of vocal tics?

His mind is sidetracking him.

"There are too many things beyond my comprehension. Trying to settle it all in one day isn't practical." He opens the floor to Noctis with a tilt of his head. "How much later? I may have similar questions."

Oh. Well, that makes sense and is something he should've accounted for, but now he's just left feeling a little bit idiotic for it not sinking in earlier. Great...

"... I mean, isn't it obvious what they are? You're saying things aren't a great secret but I'm here and I don't even remember how or why. Sure, I heard the story, but that doesn't add up to me.

I wouldn't have left my-- world."

Chiron sighs. This conversation again.

"The Regency... because our temporal information is stored on the BCEs, a data breech means you won't remember agreeing. But you did-- our agents explained to you the trouble you're facing goes beyond your world. You are not leaving it, my boy." He says this to Noctis directly. "If one falls, the rest will go not long after. You are protecting it in a far greater way than I think you know."

And then, to Hei. "You can always contact me. If I am not nearby, the network is more than sufficient." He taps a tiny silver bulb, no larger than a droplet, on his left collarbone. A BCE, the same as everyone else's.

While he holds no express interest in what Noctis asks, it's relieving to hear it from Chiron. Hei knows what he's signed up for, what they're meant to protect. He didn't do it for that and, frankly, he still labours under the confusion of why he did.

Wouldn't eliminating himself from his timeline be healthier for the universe? Did any part of him really mean anything at all, or have any special impact in the grand scheme of things? Is this what he's meant to do? What about the versions of him existing in other world lines? Surely it's not because of himself but because of the people he wanted to protect and couldn't. A kind of... rewind, where he has a chance to salvage the other offshoot worlds his sister doesn't suffer in, worlds in which Suoh and Yin live better, fuller lives.

It's a little too selfless to believe.

"I see..." A throwaway comment that sounds distracted, following it with a question that idle curiosity drags out of him while he's lost in deeper thought. "Was there any rhyme or reason to the recruitment process? In who COST picked to join the rebellion?"

Edited 2017-12-14 03:56 (UTC)

The reply is one he's heard already, just one more hammer strike down against a nail that's by no means flattened yet. It's more a blanket reminder of COST's mission statement, and while the motivation is one that resonates with him he can't help but feel that somehow his world is the exception, that it still needs his personal actions. That's what he'd been told his whole life, but...

"Ah," he responds finally, gaze lowered and expression clearly troubled now. "I want to hear the answer too."

"We try not to involve those who are not involved already, though some may volunteer for their own reasons, and we will not stop them, but..."

Chiron sighs.

"It is possible your future actions-- or future issue-- may cause a threat to the Regency. And the Regency does not like these hypothetical threats, these maybes. They would prefer to eliminate all cause for doubt-- eliminate you, to keep your potentials from causing them difficulty."

"That was what the recruiters told me." So Chiron's information checks out and he only has one outstanding question to ask.

Decides to wait on it, hoping to let Noctis gather his bearings.

"Is that satisfactory to you?"

The reason makes sense in his case too; if anyone in his world were to become a threat then he's fairly certain it'd be himself... with or without his consent. That said--

"No. I don't understand why it's just me when others would've helped... and been useful. And I don't understand why some of my magic is limited, either. Is that another big glitch too?"

"Everything we transport requires extremely valuable fuel, not just what is magically hidden. If I recall your file correctly, your arsenal of... fishing equipment and decorative knives? Were not deemed essential. Moreover, a person is not simply the sum of their physical form; your magic has metaphysical weight, so to speak. Not all could be brought."

He takes a moment, after that little lecture, to sigh just a little. He wishes they could do orientations or something...

"As I said, we prefer only to bring in those directly involved, or volunteers, if someone should accidentally happen upon our agents. I am sorry if you think others would be better qualified, but you are the most directly affected, from our prognostications."

"Our abilities are limited? No one notified me of this when I agreed to lend my power to this cause." A bit frustratedly, only showing in tone. "How does it have weight? This is not magic, it's science."

Someone is in denial.

...

Wait, fishing equipment?

"If that's all you've disallowed him, how much has COST stolen from me? This ability isn't--" mine, it's borrowed, it's special, it's memory. "How are you doing it? Disabling us? Is it these BCEs?"

Edited 2017-12-20 02:23 (UTC)

There is a lot to digest here.

He turns his attention to Hei with a sharp look, interjecting a quick "hold on, that's not all they've 'disallowed' me either," before he's wheeling back to Chiron.

"Is that why I haven't been able to communicate with the astrals?" As much as he does, anyway. Was he worried for nothing? Or have they actually forsaken him for abandoning his world? "And those 'decorative knives' aren't a waste of resources. Neither is my ability to call them at will."

He can't... dispute the fishing part.

"Magic, science, it is all the ability to affect matter through greater means than the physical. That costs ymir, the most prized resource in all the worlds, a resource we have a limited supply of. I wish ardently that you both could have all to which you are accustomed, but it cannot be so. Only so much can be allotted to each recruit."

And then he turns to Noctis with the smile of an old man saying something he has said a thousand times before: "And as I say to all my students, it is not the weapon, but the wielder."

Edited (,missinga crucisal letter theree) 2017-12-23 21:04 (UTC)

"Will these things that have been taken away return to us? His 'astrals', his weapons, the piece of soul that's been cut from me?"

And it is just that, ymir or no— a soul apart from his own, power stemming from it. It makes the temper he's always struggled with burn at the skin beneath his collar.

"When we find more of this resource?"

It's a response that doesn't so much manage to placate him as it does shut him up, honestly. That smile is hard to summon anger at when it's offering the same sort of distantly dissatisfying answers he's heard his entire life. The words of wise men when he's still young and hot-headed and doesn't want to hear them.

Hei's words have him looking over, however, quietly startled by the admission. His... soul?

"... he's right; is there anything we can do to get more of it?"

Have a very long sigh from a very old man.

"Considering the deteriorating political situation in Jh-" The BCE glitches, trying imperfectly to translate a difficult word- "There may come time soon when getting more will be a priority. They are our main supplier."

Another pause, considering his words carefully. "But I cannot, will not make promises I cannot keep. I cannot guarantee you the return of all you crave. I can only say that it is possible, and fighting for it a worthwhile cause."

A pause as he tries to scrounge up what patience he has left for this, but with all of the events that have transpired and the fact that he feels like there's something staring at the back of his head... he's left a little worse for wear where being civil's concerned.

"I'll take her back by force if I have to."

He looks like he's about to ask one more question, but his mouth closes after his ready breath in. After his discussions with others, however, feeling paranoid about it and his own reactions, he's hesitant. Instead, Hei looks to Noctis like he'll come up with something else or read his mind somehow, expectant.

He feels the weight of Hei's stare and it's equal to the weight of this conversation as a whole -- they've jumped from one difficult topic to another with a speed that dizzies even him. It silences him at first, even if he meets the other man's gaze with a quick flash of blue.

"... sounds like going at it brute force isn't gonna' cut it." As much as he doesn't want to accept that reality either, but he'd realized his limitations a lot earlier than Hei has and thus has had more time to get angry over them and then cool back off. That's his family lineage, too, that's who he is.

"I've got another question, though." Yet another that's been weighing on him. "We're traveling to different worlds... and different times, right? I want to know if any of us are going to be reliving anything we personally already went through."

Chiron considers the question carefully, frown gaining purchase over his face as time wears on. "...I cannot guarantee you will not. While it is... a gross statistical unlikelihood, I will make no guarantees in false confidence. The future is unwritten."

"No... No." A repetition he should feel self-conscious about, but what can he do about that now?

Nothing in his life is meaningful in a universe-altering way. If it should ever come up, he'll be the first to denounce its worth.

"I'm through with this conversation. Noctis, Sergeant Chiron. Until next time."

The reaction from Hei after Chiron's words is one he can't fault him for, tempted to act similarly. Sure, he already wants to see Lucis again, but to relive fresh wounds? To have others here witness them?

"Guess we should say 'thanks' for the info. That's the best I can do." And not without a touch of bitterness, either.

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