agogelogs | 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

[He has Balmung, that was the only thing he'd taken with him upon his arrival within COST. Truthfully, he misses his armor just as much- but going to the armory brings back incredible nostalgia of the time he was alive. The weapons are still familiar, somewhat- most are more modern than what he's used to, but he knows at least what they are. How to use them? Not so much. He'll just leave them be, for now. It's nice to be in a place that feels... comfortable, in a sense.

He just wasn't expecting someone else to be in here as well.

The sound of an arrow hitting a target comes to his ears, and he ventures just in time to see Ashitaka aiming his bow, and then speaking with the bird- only to hear it speak back. Siegfried huffs.]

...they tend to do that. [You know, speaking. This coming from a man who probably should have announced his presence earlier.] One had a whole conversation with me while I ate.

[Oh. Wait. He... just realized he didn't actually say anything before that, or even show that he was there before. Ah. This is awkward.] Sorry.

[Ashitaka turns sharply towards the voice, the bow and single arrow held in his hands lowered, harmless, towards the ground of the range. He doesn't recognize the tall man, though that's not much of a surprise; many that he had seen only momentarily when they were transported and given brief orientation were those that he hadn't officially met yet. This was as good a time as any to get started on that.

He gives a short sigh in acknowledgement, glancing over to the target where several other crows had fluttered down to perch - one on the end of an arrowshaft protruding from the center ring. They seemed to be chatting among themselves.]

I suppose I should not be surprised by talking animals by this point. [Not after all of the time travel and internalized messaging systems and literally standing on a vessel hurtling through the connective tissue between times and universes.

He's in thought when the man continues, which makes the apology all the more strange to Ashitaka. He focuses his attention on him once more, expression more confused than anything else.] Why do you apologize?

[Siegfried's gaze falls to the crows chattering away on the dummy, and he can't help but recall his discussion with Scout, and how much that ended up surprising him. It's a clever idea to hide in plain sight, so to speak.]

I wasn't expecting them to talk, at first. [So Ashitaka isn't alone in that.] They're fond of food and also attention. But they seem open to working with us as much as they're able.

[He blinks at the question- he thought it was obvious.] I spoke and startled you, without announcing myself first. It wasn't my intention.

Oh? [It's said very flatly as he eyes where the crows are still clustering and chattering at one another around the target he had been practicing on, occasionally canting their avian heads to set him in a beady black gaze.] I could have been fooled.

[Maybe they just didn't like him... or wanted to give him a hard time... The latter seemed to be semi-common around here...

At the clarification, he merely shakes his head.] There was no harm, so do not trouble yourself with concern for it. [He offers a small smile.] You are polite, though. I thank you for it.

[He lowers his bow for now.] What brings you here? [He doesn't seem equipped with a weapon that would be at use in the range.]

all this energy calling me

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