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

[ He glances over his shoulder to see... well, that's one way to subdue the creature. ]

Runs in the family. [ And extends to anyone he decides to give the power to too, to be fair. As good an explanation as any while he attempts to wrangle the squirming eel beneath him, finally opting to take Midnighter's same strategy. Good night, pure eel, you didn't deserve this dagger to the face. It allows Noctis to again climb to his feet, however, eyeing the slowly dying animal with distrust. ]

So what, this is a sport? What happens if-- [ Oh, wait. ] ... You think we're gonna' get in trouble for killing 'em?

[Midnighter shrugs.] If we do, say I forced you into it. I can take whatever they dish out.

[The eel dying on Midnighter's blade continues to struggle, and that's just sad. Midnighter reaches over with his free, non-glowing hand to twist its head clean off without much apparent effort. He's a strong guy.]

You gonna show me how to eat these things or what?

[ Noctis's reply dies in his throat as he bears witness to that strength, genuinely impressed for a moment or two. ] Awesome... [ A single word muttered quietly, under his breath. ]

Yeah, thanks, though. Hopefully they won't-- Ahh, wait, you did force me into it. You dragged me here unconscious and then flung an extra eel at me. [ GOD ]

[Midnighter laughs, and it's not exactly a gentle sound. His voice, in general, is more on the rough side, and people tend to find it less than comforting. But it's genuine, that much is obvious.]

So you won't even have to lie. [He holds his hand out for the other eel, offering to carry the slimy fuckers.] But you still gotta hold up your end of the bargain.

[ That eel is passed over all too willingly, carefully dragging it off of his dagger just to stare at the now soiled weapon.

Then at Midnighter's clothes. No, Noctis, don't wipe off the knife on his clothes just because you don't want to get yours dirty. ]

Hah... I never even made that deal but fine, I guess I'll ask around about how to cook them here. [ That laugh is a little disconcerting, honestly, but he doesn't mind a little roughness. He actually comes off as surprisingly not-a-creep, given the circumstances. ]

--I'm Noctis.

[So Midnighter takes the eel and twists its head off before throwing both of them, bleeding and slimy, over his shoulder.] Midnighter.

[...Wait.] After that fucking lecture, you don't even know how to cook 'em?

... your name is Midnighter? [ More important. As if his own name isn't just basically "Night". What a pair. ]

And your name sounds like what happens when you fall down a flight of stairs, but do you see me bitching?

[Like he knows Latin, c'mon.]

...

Yes? You just did!

Only because you- [Oh dear fucking god. He's not arguing about this.] You can call me M if it really bothers you that much, fuck. Do you want the eels or not? Because I can just take 'em.

Obviously. Look what I went through. [ He's got goo arms and missed the second half of his nap. ]

I said I was gonna' figure out how to cook 'em, didn't I? I've only ever done it over a fire and I figured we weren't supposed to start those in here.

You're the fucking expert. You need to eat, right?

[Genuine questions, here. However little Noctis knows about cooking, he definitely knows more than Midnighter. He says it as he turns to make his way out of the gym, expecting the kid to follow.]

... yeah? [ But now Midnighter's showing him his back and he's finally having to bite the bullet and wipe off that knife of his on his own clothing before indeed trailing after him... but there comes a clap on the larger man's shoulder, absolutely using that as an excuse to clean off his hands. ]

Slow down. What, you don't need to or something?

[Uhhh okay kid. Midnighter shrugs.]

No, not really. You can have my eel, I just wanna see it. Don't look like food to me. [Like he'd know.]

[ Well, that's distracting enough for him to stop trying to wipe eel fluids onto Midnighter's shirt. ]

You don't eat? You are human, right?

[That's a good question, uh. Sensitive topic, maybe, but shoot. He likes the kid. Can't help it, he's awkward and earnest and a little dumb. Reminds him of Cullen. Just needs a push.]

Guess that depends on what you think counts as human.

[He keeps walking. Noctis will follow, that's obvious enough.]

[ He definitely does keep following him, way too invested now in the fate of these eels. And in Midnighter, honestly. As bizarre as this whole experience has been, he's been easy for him to talk to, and in a way it's been fun. That's in short supply for him, currently. ]

Seriously? [ A pause. ] Guess I have to expand my list to include guys who don't eat. Sounds kind of boring, though.

Uhh, yeah? [Why would he lie? Honestly, Midnighter is mostly surprised by the lack of more questions. But not everyone's interested in how much of a freak you are, Midnighter. He shakes his head, and walks back toward the hall with the capsules.] Don't sleep much, either. Pretty fucking boring, but there're perks.

That part sounds even worse. [ Even just thinking about it is making him tired, honestly. ]

... does it bug you? If it's a big deal for you then we don't have to talk about it, you know. Or whatever... This is just a little new for me.

Hey, like I said, there are perks.

[And then, grinning all the while, he leans over and picks Noctis up with one arm, depositing him on his other shoulder in a fireman's carry. It's all in one smooth motion, without apparent difficulty.]

Fucking strong, for one.

[ ... WHY DID I WIPE MY HANDS OFF ON YOU, this is instant karma now that he's effectively slung over his shoulder. ]

Oi-- What the hell? I get it, I get it, off! [ That it should come to this, that I should be treated like a dead eel... ]

[Midnighter laughs like this is the funniest joke he's ever heard. He considers waving the dead eel in the kid's face, but he's probably suffered enough. He lets the kid back down.]

Yeah, yeah, you earned your eels.

[ The second his feet are back on the ground he's straightening his clothes, then his hair, all with an indignant look cast over at him.

Then comes the strike of his fist against Midnighter's side, firm but obviously not actually meant to do any damage as he huffs out an exhalation. ] Geeze... Yeah, no kidding I did. Here I was trying to be nice to you; what an ass...

[Midnighter is... fast. He catches the fist in his palm, effortless reflex. He's impressed, though, and it shows in his grin.]

Hey, I've been nice as shit. Saved your ass, caught you dinner. I'm not even this nice to my dates. You're a lucky little shit.

[All said with that fond grin. This kid's great. His attitude is hilarious. Kids are great.]

[ The capture of his hand earns Midnighter another click of his tongue, quick to wrench it free as he sways a step further to the side. Planning his next attack. ]

Yeah, sure, caught me dinner... You threw my dinner on the floor and made me catch it after it was already caught before. Plus you woke me up.

So you should probably start treating your dates a whole lot better.

EATING THEM IS NORMAL, I PUNCHED AN EEL, M

and hes so proud.....

what have I become, my sweetest friend

youve become awesome, shh.

teach me to rip heads off of eels

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