all this energy calling me

[agogemod]

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

Comments

SURPRISE: HE'S A FUCKING HORSE.

[byhand]

Sergeant Chiron can be found easily around BASE, if you want to catch him for any reason at all. Most commonly, you'll find him arguing with the crows, only to give up and give them whatever food or toy he's holding. He can also be seen inspecting the various problems, sparking wires and blinking lights, around the station. Whatever he's doing, he doesn't seem to mind being interrupted at all, and turns to you with a warm smile.

"Yes, child?"

It doesn't matter if you're eighty and white-haired; that's what he'll call you.

2 horses 1 base

[horsepowered]

Of all the actual possibilities of who he might have run into with all of this nonsense, Chiron would never have anticipated a variation of himself. In retrospect, it explained an awful lot of the conversation that he had had over the communications network, but there was still something strangely delightful about it. The word impossible didn't occur to him because it wasn't. Heroic Spirits were the sum total of all mythologies after all. This was just one specific version.

It also felt like it was a fair assumption that this Chiron still had living family, in that respect, Chiron had some of the same questions any man might have when asking about another's family.

The question gets a laugh out of him, soft and fleeting.

"I do have to ask if you've been aware of my identity since day one, but that comes off as overly self-centered, doesn't it?"

[byhand]

That certainly gets a laugh out of Chiron. His grin is wide, apparently ignoring any pain from the limp in his back leg.

"I'm given briefings of all the new recruits. A little solipsistic, in this case..." He shakes his head, and hands over the tool he was holding to the nearby droid. "I fear I had a bit of fun with you and the boy, when you weren't aware of who I was."

[lonelywar]

Ashitaka is an impassive, serious young man. Most of the time he did not lend himself well to expressions of emotion, even accidental ones. And perhaps he should not be so easily shocked, having been in the presence of an entity like the great forest spirit. And yet, when he meets the Sergeant for the first time, his steps slow a little earlier than they should, his eyes a little wide as he mentally processes a centaur for the first time in his young life.

Being addressed, thankfully, helps jar him out of it.

He hurriedly bows his head and shoulders in a short, respectful greeting. "Sergeant." When he straightens up to look up to the centaur next that moment of imbalance seems to have passed, replaced with a look of clear intent. "I meant to meet you in person before too much time had passed. I am Ashitaka."

[byhand]

Chiron's smile is warm, his eyes crinkling. "Ah, a polite young man. A pleasure to meet you too. I believe your file said you are royalty-- ought I address you as such?"

His humor is rather dry; it's difficult to tell if this is a genuine question or gentle teasing.

[crownless]

"You're a--" A horse???? "A horse."

Travis can't help but to glance at Chiron's face, then down at the four muscular legs-- as if staring at them long enough will reveal them for the clear space-fever hallucination they are. Which they aren't.

Okay, then. Travis blinks up at him, puzzled. At least he's always been one to roll with the punches, so to speak.

"So you're the famous sergeant," he says, eyebrow raised. "We figure out what was going on with that message you sent to us all yet? Or is whoever's screwing with us still a mystery?"

[byhand]

"A centaur," Chiron gently corrects. He turns away from the bird he was arguing with (fine, have the pizza, but save some for the other recruits--) to look the boy over. Travis, yes. He remembers reading a little about him. Travis, the boy with the unusual name and the sword...

"I think it rather odd to be famous for being a sergeant. I've only been one of those for the last, ah... seventy years." But anyway. "It's still a mystery, I'm afraid. I thought, at first, it was due to our cell's machinations in France, but now I'm not so sure."

[chariotry]

[ You can just imagine his shock when he'd emerged. Of all the men he'd considered, another Chiron just hadn't been within his realm of possibilities; though, in retrospect, he'd even mentioned the fact that there had been more versions of himself that he'd met in the past.

Fortunately for Sergeant, Achilles has waited to confront him in privacy. After all, causing a scene in front of all the other recruits would have given him away.

So he finds him later on, when the other members have dispersed and withdrawn to their respective rooms.

It's strange, because this Chiron is familiar yet entirely foreign. Though he may resemble his own teacher, his face is more weathered, grizzled. Being alive and fighting this long war, he may even be considerably older, or he just could have a different appearance altogether because they're not actually the same.

Whatever the case may be, he hasn't seen a centaur in quite some time and just seeing him gives him a sense of nostalgia. His teacher walks on two legs, purposefully hiding his identity. This one walks freely on all four of his hooves, tail swishing as Achilles makes a point of following him a few paces behind, waiting for him to acknowledge his presence.

And when he does, ]

I'm no child.

... Why reveal yourself now?

prosechilles

[byhand]

Chiron's expression is all warmth, genuine pleasure at seeing this student, even in this changed form. "Ah, my boy." A strange, terrible gift, that he can see shadows and echoes of those long passed from this world. "It is good to see you. Always."

As for his question... "I have descendants who would be made unsafe by my presence, should the Regency learn of it. I trust you to keep my name secret, outside these halls."

[gerechtigkeit]

Even though Siegfried knows Chiron... this is another version of him. An actual centaur. Not that Archer of Black is any different, of course, but Siegfried can't help but wonder if this means that he's also aware of who they all are. Who they really are. It's... unsettling isn't the right word- he chose to help, but to realize the one leading them is a familiar... and not familiar face is different. Does this Chiron know them and what they are?

He feels he should ask, at least. And so his approach is a quiet one, and when he's called a child, Siegfried blinks.

"Ah, sorry." Here he is, 6'2" and quite literally apologizing to a centaur for doing... absolutely nothing. Truthfully, he feels like he's bothering him. "I was curious to know how much you know about us here." There's no hesitation, but it's clear Siegfried means him and the other Servants. "And why your agents chose to come to me." He isn't arguing about it- it's actually asked with curiosity. While he knows he's a hero, he doesn't fully believe he's that great of a hero, especially compared to his legend.

[byhand]

"It is no trouble," Chiron says, and then in a slightly annoyed aside to a bird perched near his shoulder, "she was just leaving."

The crow says something rude in a language the BCE doesn't translate, and flaps away.

Chiron turns back to his companion. "Because you are a hero, of course." So there goes that. "I've heard much of you in books and song, though never met you in person. We have allies-- and enemies-- who know of you quite well."

[mylawn]

76 had sort of liked the Sergeant, for how briefly they spoke. He'd struck him immediately as someone who'd seen some Things, at least as far as war is concerned, and that's something that quickly fosters an understanding. He'd caught the sly jokes, appreciated them in his own way, received his orders, and called it a day. Everything had been efficient and professional--if 76 wasn't still hung up on his conspiracy theories, he might have been put at ease by the knowledge that someone competent was on board the operation.

He had not, by any stretch of the imagination, expected this.

Despite experiencing a few things over the course of his lifetime that could be considered fantastical, it's a little hard to process what is ostensibly a mythological figure. The only thing he can really think to do is face the uncomfortable reality head-on--or in this case, trying to get more of a feel for the guy. It can't hurt, especially if they're all going to be in this for the long haul. Perhaps he hopes that forcing himself into the Sergeant's proximity will make him come to terms with the fact that this is his life now.

"You need a hand with that?"

Whatever he's fiddling with. 76 is generally under the impression that trying to get Chiron not to call him child will be a fruitless effort, so he decides he's just going to ignore it and get down to business, instead.

[byhand]

"Do you know anything of coolant valves?" Chiron looks up, almost hopeful. He's not a technological creature, coming from a time when the written word was still hotly debated technology.

He looks his companion over briefly. "You are the soldier, yes? Is that the name you prefer? Numbers?"

He says this while pinching a hissing tube together so a droid can staple it shut.

[courtintrigue]

It could be worse. He could be a rhyming oak. But seeing someone with authority within COST that is so obviously not human satisfies -- somewhat -- a need that until now Morrigan did not fully realize she had. There are worlds other than Earth, as she well knows, but for weeks upon weeks now Earth is all she has known. She appraises him from a distance for long enough that she has no doubt he is aware long before he says something.

Being greeted with a warm smile takes her a bit off guard. The Commander struck her as more businesslike.

"Are you always here?" Of all the questions she could ask, somehow that is what tumbles out. "It must be tedious."

[byhand]

Chiron laughs, warm and soft. "I have company."

A crow squawks in the distance.

"In any case, I am a very old man. Were I not accustomed to tedium, I'd be in a great deal of trouble, hm?"

[hakanai]

It's impossible not to approach when Yoshitsugu finds Chiron inspecting one of the blinking lights in a corridor; he's wanted to since arrival, for many reasons. The most obvious one included.

"Our wise and fatherly Sergeant." Beneath his facecloth, Yoshitsugu's mouth quirks. "Is 'ancient' a title of yours as well?"

Forgive his rudeness, Chiron; he can't help the playfulness. It's an easy thing to fall back on when you're dealing with the fact that here, right in front of you, is good evidence for the existence of things like youkai. For a man as hard to surprise as Yoshitsugu, the entire COST experience is proving to be quite the experience.

It's rather nice, in its way.

[byhand]

"I was born a very long time ago," he says, humor in his voice. "'Archaic' may be more apt."

It's not rude if you're playful in return, is it?

[bloodings]

Mordred's never seen a centaur before, and since she's too stupid to figure out Archer of Black's true identity, she doesn't know that she's met one already — the same one, in fact. So the sergeant is quite a novelty to her. He looks almost comical in motion, but she can admire the strength in his frame, having spent enough time with horses to know the physical power he likely possesses. (Or did possess, judging by his limp.)

Like most things, she makes no secret of her interest, following him around the station for a bit before he finally turns to acknowledge her. When he does, her grin is wide, dumb, and surprisingly earnest.

"Hey. Are you strong enough to carry someone, old man?"

She wants a ride.

[byhand]

Of course that's the question he's asked. It brings back old, fond memories, and he sounds genuinely regretful when he says-- "I'm afraid not. My glory days are long passed."

SARRRRRGE

[dorzalta]

The fact that Sergeant has a name, a body, and is part horse is strange enough; she takes this in stride, for having seen many a strange thing thus far in her life. Being called child, however, earns him an arch of a brow.

Or perhaps it's the crows which keep him company.

"Well met, Sergeant." The clothing she dons are well-worn, and she's already thought of ways to modify them as she had her clothing while with the Dothraki. Grays, blacks, with the hint of red interspersed. She folds her hands together. "Thank you for advising me on the egg."

[byhand]

"The egg," he says with a sigh. He'd almost forgotten about that. Wishful thinking. He looks over at Daenerys with an expression of concern. "It will be hatching soon, if you've followed my instructions. It may seem as though it's... beginning to deflate."

[northerndragon]

Jon watches the "argument" from a distance, both interested and puzzled. This many crows in one place usually means death, where he comes from... not as a portent, but as a recent event. Real crows are noisy things that pick over carrion: there's nothing here to explain their presence.

Yet wasn't he a crow once too, in another life? When he found some of his own clothes on his bed in this place, he was grateful that they were the things he had worn on Dragonstone, and not his old blacks. Today, he wears his own shirt and gambeson, and one of the pairs of breeches of strange design that he'd picked up from the table.

"Oh, I'm not a child," he says, but amiably. "If you're at war with them, it looks like you may be losing."

[ryuji]

He does a double take.

Then a triple take.

He's a horse. A man. A manhorse. How is that possible? Ryuji's seen some pretty weird shit in his life before, but this is definitely up there. If he expects to get on a little better with this whole thing, he should probably just stop expecting to not be surprised.

"G...gramps!?"

1/2........i can't apologize enough

[dipolar]

(walking in a beeline for the sergeant, noctis trailing behind him.)

Sergeant Chiron.

(upon reaching him, stops a few feet short and angles his head up at the horseman.)

Noctis has an important question to ask you.

goals

[masque]

At least he isn't hard to miss. The hooves are an obvious sign, followed by the crows following a dark shadow in the hallways... and he's almost certain he can hear quiet arguing. Yeah, all the signs he was told about. This is the sergeant.

At least he seems friendly enough? Good, maybe this'll be smooth.

"New here, yeah. Quick question?"