reverielogs | ( 0 0 1 » ENSEMBLE ) welcome to the inaugural log

» WHO? everyone
» WHEN? may 1 onward
» WHERE? all over the station
» WHAT? introductory log feat. waking up, exploration, meeting over food and noises in the walls
» WARNINGS? potential for body horror, psychological horror, hallucinations, physical injury

( 0 0 1 ) » WAKE UP

Were you asleep or were you unconscious? It doesn't matter: when you come to, there's an odd taste in your mouth and there's a low-level mechanical hum in the air. Your head hurts and you feel nauseous. You aren't anywhere you know: everything around you is metal, from the floor you lie on all the way to the ceiling. You are dressed in a jumpsuit you definitely weren't wearing before.

"We tried to save the world. I think— I think we did the opposite."

The message repeats on a loop. If you look for its source, you find a comms device on the floor next to you. The logo on its wallpaper says REVERIE TERMINAL. Upon closer inspection, you find the same logo on your jumpsuit.

Welcome to your new home.

( ♪ )

( 0 0 2 ) LOOK AROUND

You've woken up — but where have you woken up? It may be time to explore your new home. Rifling through a crew quarter will make the room's terminal lock to the comms device you're carrying; the room becomes yours. That includes everything in it, from the additional jumpsuit to the two extra sets of underwear. In some quarters, you may find remnants of whoever was here before you: a book on the nightstand, a coffee mug still on the table, a lonely sock on the floor.

A look around the shared areas will reveal the bar, some of its bottles already open, the mess hall, observation deck and the gym area with its dirty pool. An even closer look around these areas might reveal basic first aid kits as well as basic tool kits and fire extinguishers. The kits are located near the fire extinguishers in compartments in the wall that are not immediately visible. Hopefully, nothing's on fire and no one needs first aid... but that tool kit might come in handy.

Every now and then, as you explore, you might find yourself standing before a door that is locked. Try as you might, you will not be able to get it open.

( ♪ )

( OOC: What items characters find of those who were there before them is up to players, but please limit it to a single item that is mundane and somewhat useless in nature. )

( 0 0 3 ) HAVE A BITE

Sooner or later, all characters will have to make their way to the mess hall if they want to eat. In the mess hall, here are a number of replicator-like devices that sometimes work and sometimes don't— but after a recent malfunction that some characters may have noticed, they seem to work just fine... or at least as well as ever: nothing is particularly palatable, but at least it's nourishment, right?

So why not sit down at a table, whether it's already occupied or not, and have a meal. Maybe use it as an opportunity to introduce yourself, or just to complain about what passes for coffee around here.

And if coffee isn't your preferred beverage, well. There's always the bar.

( ♪ )

( 0 0 4 ) NOISES IN THE WALLS

For some, it's been over a week on the station. For others, merely a day or two. For all, things are starting to change: maybe you were asleep or maybe you weren't, but surely the scream that reverberates through the station will startle you. Was it human? Whatever it was, it seems to be coming from the walls of the station. Banging, clanging, then more screams.

Are you going to chase the sounds? Hide away from them? Try to investigate?

If you follow the sound of screams through the station's corridors and halls, you might feel someone - or was it something? - grab you from behind and pull hard. But when you turn around or turn your head if you've fallen, there's nothing and no one there. If you investigate and perhaps put your ear to a wall to see if the noises really come from there, or bang on the wall, you might hear something other than screams and clanging. Strain your ears and you might hear nothing at all — or you might be able to make out a soft "help me". It's barely above a whisper. Did it sound familiar? If you try to take apart the wall, two things will happen: you'll feel uncharacteristically weak and lethargic all of the sudden, and you'll find nothing at all but wiring and more metal.

Whatever you do, you'll find that the noises stop after a while, with no discernible source other than "the walls". And then hours later, they'll start again. Stop again. Start again a day later— and then stop for good.

( ♪ )

( O O C ) ACTIONS

Hello Reverie Terminal Operators! Welcome to our inaugural event. We hope you'll enjoy it!

To help exploration and interaction with the station, we have put together ten (10) 'actions' that you can request. These actions range from very minor, such as receiving a small piece of information about the station, to major, which may be a more vital piece of information or something far less pleasant, and are completely opt-in. These actions can help get your character involved in the plot, jump into the plot and its mysteries, and have more of a personal prompt to jump off of if you so wish.

Please note if you would avoid particular kinds of consequences (for example, if you'd rather your character not be injured), and we'll try to accommodate that, but please be aware that heavy themes are in play and the actions may feature body horror, injury and hallucinations.

If you'd like to receive an action, please reply to this comment with the following:

In the future, actions such as these may be "bought" with bonus AC.

Please use content warning in your top-levels wherever necessary.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The tone of his voice is a bit terrifying for her. Either there are mutants and they're stuck in the same loop of hatred and oppression as she'd grown up with, or the term had been used for something else where he came from. Neither scenario was one she'd been hoping for.

Looking down at her bare hands nervously, she explains, "People with genetic mutations who sometimes have special abilities."

His expression shifted towards confusion. The hybrids had special abilities, sure, but no one would call what they were a "genetic mutation". They were man-made monsters. And weapons.

He shook his head slowly. "Sorry, sweetheart, not totally sure what you mean. Martians and Belters had evolved a bit differently, thanks to gravity, but - that ain't what you mean, is it?"

Oh... Squeezing her eyes shut tight for a moment, she pulls in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. What's done is done, there's no way for them to change it from here. She needs to just accept things as they are and try to move on.

"No, it's not," she confirms quietly, rubbing a hand over her eyes before lifting her head to look at him again. "I guess, if we do turn out to be from the same universe, then at least now I know we didn't win the war."

Trying to look on the bright side, though she's still not sure they are from the same place.

By the time that her eyes shift back to him, his expression has turned into one of sympathy. He almost looks apologetic. He was carefully trying to put together the implications of what she was saying, her reaction--

"I'm gonna guess that the mutants have somethin' to do with this war of yours, and that's the side you're on." He wasn't quite sure if she meant she was one, or was fighting with them, though he couldn't help but wonder about 'special abilities'.

She's not looking for sympathy; if she were, she'd show him the tattoo on her arm, tell him about the lab and all the horrible things human beings were capable of doing to each other. All she wants is to somehow find some semblance of peace in this strange place they've been brought to.

"Baseline humans were afraid of us," she explains sadly. "The ones in power, at least. So they decided to fix the problem. We--" Her voice breaks and all she can feel is a pervasive numbness. "We'd already lost."

He doesn't know what to say, for several seconds, suddenly aware of his limbs and the weight of his body settling in his feet and the quiet hiss of recycled air.

He lets out a breath.

"... If it means anythin'... I don't think that kind of war would be forgotten. We're-- there's something we're fightin' right now. Somethin' alien. It's the first time we've ever met somethin' beyond ourselves. If humans had ever evolved like that - I think we'd still remember, right?" The uneasy part of him thinks that the governments in power now would have never killed humans with special abilities.

They would have just used them.

A swell of grief takes her breath away and for a horrible second she's afraid she might start crying in front of this kind stranger. But she doesn't -- she steels herself and straightens up, pulling herself together enough to offer him a small, wavering smile and a nod of acknowledgment.

"I hope you're right." She desperately hopes. It's only been a few days, but in the quiet moments of the night, the terror grips her that the mission had failed and they hadn't been able to change anything.

Almost physically shaking off the air of sadness around her, Rogue forces her expression to be a bit brighter, her tone lighter and buoyed by a change of topic. "I'm sorry to be so gloomy when we've just met, sugar, and especially when you've just gotten here. Have you found anyone you know yet?"

It's easy to see that she's deliberately trying to change the subject, but he let's her. That kind of pain doesn't needed to be revisited.

So when she asks her question, he shakes his head.

"Not yet. I've been lookin'- that's why I peeked in your door, but... Ain't found and of my crew, yet. You?"

"The only person I know here is about thirty years younger than when I knew him," she answers with a little shrug of her shoulders. "But it seems like most people have found someone they know wandering around the station. I hope you do too."

Being alone isn't always a bad thing, but when you're used to having people around, when you're accustomed to that sense of family... The loneliness can eat you alive.

"That's--" What, impossible? Everything about this place was impossible. So he swallowed the rest of that statement and changed tack.

"That's somethin', at least. I should get back to searchin'. You gonna be alright?" He still felt pretty guilty for that look of grief that had crossed her face, earlier.

Welcome to her life, where there's at least three impossible things before breakfast every day. At least, that's sure how it's seemed lately.

"I'll be fine, sugar," she assures him with a small, genuine smile and affection in her voice. She really does appreciate him asking. "You go find your crew. I'm sure we'll run into each other again soon, then you can introduce me to all of them."

He watches her for another minute, assessing, but then gives a small nod.

"Alright. You just gimme a holler, if you need anythin'. Already got a username on the comms - it's 'rocipilot'."

He stepped back out of the door and gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'll do that. Just gotta find 'em, first."

Then he gave a casual two-fingered salute and slipped back into the hall, off to find his friends.

( 0 0 1 » ENSEMBLE ) welcome to the inaugural log

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