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

[reveriemod]

» 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:
» Character: » Type of action: minor, medium, major » Notes:

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



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

Comments

Karen Page | mcu

[subplot]

001; wake up
[Karen comes to more slowly, blearily blinking awake with a soft groan. Her head is absolutely pounding, and as consciousness creeps up on her she's aware that she's dizzy even with her eyes closed. It's the eerie feeling that she's not alone in this cramped space that gets her to force herself to try regaining her bearings. ]

Hello?

[She shifts against the cold metal floor she's laying against, and turns. The flashlight on her shoulder illuminates the area just enough that she can make out a face, but she squints as she tries to make out their features. It suddenly dawns on her that she hears something on repeat. Somehow, it's been background noise up until this point.

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

It plays over and over and she fumbles around for the source like she might be fishing for her phone when her alarm is sounding off. When she finally finds the device she grasps it with a shaky hand. Bringing it in close to her face, she's able to make out the words on the screen. Reverie Terminal. That doesn't sound familiar to her. A couple of button pushes later, the playback stops. That's definitely enough of that. With a sigh of discomfort, she moves to sit up. And thanks to the low ceiling, hits her forehead in the process.]

Hey - [She reaches over to touch at the person shoved in the small space with her.]

Are you alright?

003; have a bite
[When Karen strides into the mess hall, she looks confident and happy. Way too pleased to be someone that's just arrived here. She gets her food from the fabricators and pokes at it, picking a table near the entrance doors. Every time she hears someone enter she glances up their way, looking hopeful. It's almost as if she's sitting there waiting for someone. But the longer she sits there alone, the less and less she smiles. Eventually she's just left frowning, head ducked as she rests her head in the palm of her hand. It's clear that whoever was supposed to meet her here, hasn't.

Someone sits across from her and she glances up, almost hopeful again.

If someone happens to see her later on in the morning and witnesses her knockout argument with her bff Frank Castle, she can be found storming off to a table in the opposite corner of the room. She sits and rests her head in both hands, trying to act calm and chill despite the fact she is absolutely furious on the inside. Approaching her is risky after the scene she's just helped make, but it's not like she's likely to go off on anyone that isn't Frank.]

004; noises in the walls
[With her arms messed up and injured, it probably isn't a good idea to go snooping around the station. But with the sounds of screaming she's hearing, she can't just stay in her room. She needs to figure out what's going on and try to find some answers. She needs to figure out a way to get everyone back home, and she's determined to do it just to prove that she can take care of herself. The issue with her aimlessly wandering and following the sounds is that it doesn't seem like there's any rhyme or reason to it.

She rounds a corner and feels something grab her. With a forceful push, she's shoved roughly against the wall. The sound of her gasp sounds just as loud in her ears as the screams she's been hearing, and it causes her to anxiously look around for trouble. Her ear's pressed against cool metal, and she can just barely make out the sound of someone asking for help. She instantly assumes it's someone that's trapped within the station.]

Wherever you are, don't worry. I'll find a way to help you.

[It's a risky promise to make, but one she freely puts out there. She likely looks crazy doing this, talking at a wall with her ear pressed against it. But she's got something to focus on, which is good. She can't just sit around moping because her arms are hurting. She needs to stay useful.

She hears the footsteps of someone else and pushes away from the wall to cut them off.]

I think someone needs our help.

[It's amazing how she's able to rope other people in with her plans, isn't it?]

Closed to Frank
[Whether she likes it or not, Karen recognizes that she needs to rest. Hanging out in a windowless room is mildly depressing, but she tries not to let it get to her. She lays in bed and collects her thoughts, trying to piece together all the information she's gathered. She connects names to faces of people she's met, and attempts to sort out who might be the most useful in helping her get everyone sent back to where they came from. She's expecting to get lost in her thoughts enough that she's able to doze off, but she's surprised when there's a visitor at her door.

Unsure of who it could be, she approaches with caution. It's not like she knows that many people here yet, so it's really only one or two people it could be. She's guessing that it's Frank though. No one else would know where her quarters are at. ]

I hope you brought flowers.

[It's said through the door, a call back to simpler times when he showed up at her apartment. Simpler times before they created a soap opera for everyone in the mess hall. The door opens and she carefully shifts her injured arms over her chest, trying to look casual about his showing up.]

[oorah]

[ that whole door situation earlier had really shaken him, and he's not about to have a repeat of their brunch argument okay. the second she opens the door he's barging his way inside even if there's no one in the corridor to see him. it's just ingrained in him by now. ]

Thought you didn't need flowers. [ it has a tinge of smugness, but he's not here to be a dick for once. he lets out a breath through his nose when the door closes behind him. ] I'm sorry, alright? About this morning. And this... day.

[ yeah why not? he'll take responsibility for the whole damn mess. ]

[subplot]

[She's expecting the smugness. Maybe she's even invited it with her initial remark. The apology he gives her isn't expected though, and she can't hide the look of surprise on her face. He's never just openly apologized to her before, and she doesn't know what to do with it at first. Especially not after the day they've just had.

The day he's apparently claiming full responsibility for.]

The door wasn't your fault.

[Her eyes stay focused on him, watching him closely as she keeps her distance. There's a slight wince as her arms fold against one another across her chest, but she tries not to let it show.]

And I probably shouldn't have been so angry after you didn't show up for breakfast. I went from thinking you had been sucked out of an airlock to assuming you had intentionally left me there alone.

[oorah]

[ it wasn't his fault, and he knew that already. but frank castle will find a way to blame himself for anything that happens, especially to her. still, a measure of tension releases from his frame and he nods to accept facts. ]

It happened so fast...

[ he doesn't have to tell her. she was there and it was terrifying. but he's quick to shake his head at her dismissal about breakfast. ]

Still. I didn't have to be such a dick about it. [ he looks down at the floor, his right hand coming up to scratch at his left arm. the original dressings hawkeye wrapped are still on his left hand, but on his right (worse off) hand the bandages are gone and instead is just a piece of cloth wrapped around and taped, blood already seeping through. ]

[subplot]

Yeah.

[That single word can go for both the fact that the door situation happened so fast and that he shouldn't have been such a dick. There's a smile that comes after she says it, her version of relenting and accepting the apology.

As she looks him over her eyes catch sight of that red on his right hand, and she steps in closer with concern as she tries to take hold of his hand so she can raise it and look it over. He's hurt because of her, and she's guilty for that. But if she brings it up, he's liable to get gruff because the situation was neither of their fault. Just a freak accident.]

I don't want to take a hint. [She's soft as she speaks, thoughtful in her remembrance of their argument. The fact that he's come here to apologize at all leads her to believe that none of what he said should be taken to heart. But she wants to address that particular issue.]

I want to be in your life. And not just when we're in trouble.

[oorah]

[ he lets her take his hand, his gaze careening into hers before he can hold it back. there's a lot in there for her to parse through: guilt, fear, relief. there's still very much a part of him that wants to run away when she starts talking like that, but there are only what? seventy people here, maybe? and everyone knows they know each other now thanks to their scene. slowly, frank finds himself doing his own relenting with a steady bob of his head. ]

Okay, Karen. You win. [ isn't that what she's always after? ]

004;

[magneticfields]

[ Erik is minding his own business. He doesn't care about the rest of the people on this station, except Rogue. Although that's already more complicated than it has any right to be (when is it not, with his fellow mutants?). He is fixated on the problem of the locked doors. There has to be one he can successfully unlock. He systematically examines each one, one by one, trying to find the one that has to be there. The one that's different. The one that will lead him to some area of the station that nobody's found yet and will let him go home.

He hears the woman's voice before he sees her. After his incident in the mess hall, he doesn't put much stock in it. He doesn't recognize the voice, which is a step up from being haunted by his dead wife.

When he turns the corner and sees the woman, he doesn't recognize her at all. And doesn't care to find out what she's talking about. She can't be talking to him with that plural pronoun, she must have some friend or other out of Erik's line of sight. ]

Good luck.

[ His tone is as disinterested as he is. He doesn't even break stride. ]

[subplot]

[She recognizes him from the other day, when Frank had brought her to Hawkeye to get help. She hadn't gotten his name or really thought to introduce herself, since she had been bleeding and in a lot of pain. Now that she's back to snooping around, she's better able to be personable.

Mostly.

The smile that's on her face as she opens her mouth to speak fade away when he dismisses her. If he doesn't want to help, she isn't about to force him. She'll just try convincing him instead.]

I won't need luck, with your help.

[magneticfields]

[ She keeps talking and he realizes he does recognize her. He had just been focused on all the blood in his living room the last time. And his idiot roommate turning their quarters into a makeshift medical bay. ]

You'll need luck to get my help, after the mess you left.

[subplot]

As far as I know, there wasn't a mess left. Maybe your roommate is helping other people that don't clean up after themselves.

[She doesn't exactly understand the hostility. So she shrugs and turns back toward the wall, focusing on trying to hear further calls for help. She can't hear anything and frowns, worried that whoever she's heard is hurt.]

[magneticfields]

You seem to be handling the task of staring at the wall well enough on your own.

[ He starts to leave when he hears it. Somebody, a woman, laughing. The kind that sounds like somebody mocking him. He spins to confront Karen, but it's not coming from her. It rings around his ears and then travels behind the wall.

His frown deepens. ]

What was that.

003

[monomachy]

[Diana is already in the mess hall by the time Karen enters, smiling brilliantly and giving off a general air of happiness. It's surprising, but also nice to see someone hasn't completely lost hope despite their situation. She waits for the other woman to sit, and is about to get up to join her when she notices Karen looking up at the entrance every few moments. It's clear she's waiting for someone, which could be the reason for her mood--it doesn't take someone blessed with the empathy of Athena to see that. So she leaves her be, trying not to let her own mood be brought down by the tasteless food.

She gets up to leave, depositing her tray in the return area and giving Karen one last glance--which makes her slow her step. The nearly literal glow that had surrounded her before is gone, and the Amazon's brows draw together in concern. The other woman still sits alone, and it's impossible now for Diana to continue by. So she puts on a gentle smile, approaching the table and settling in the seat across from Karen.]

Do you mind if I join you?

[subplot]

[Karen glances up and gives a little shake of her head. There's an attempt to match the smile she's been given, but she knows it falls flat and so she drops the act quickly. It's pointless to try and force happiness when she isn't feeling it. She's just glad that it can be passed off as worry or fear about their current situation.]

I don't mind at all. Please, stay.

[The company is nice, to be honest. It helps keep her from worrying about Frank, and being annoyed with herself for worrying in the first place.]

I'm Karen.

[Introductions usually didn't have to come right away, but she figures it might help get conversation going to do so.]

[monomachy]

[The permission is welcome, and she makes herself comfortable on the bench. Difficult to do, considering how absolutely uncomfortable they are in the first place, but she does her best.]

My name is Diana.

[Her brows draw together with concern, and she leans on the table slightly.]

I could not help but notice you've been sitting here for a while, Karen. [She puts her smile back on, hoping to bring a bit of mirth to the conversation.] I'll admit, the food was so bad I, too, had trouble convincing myself to eat it.

[subplot]

[The urge to blush is there, hearing that it's been noticeable that she's been sitting here alone. But at least Diana is kind enough to play it off as being the fault of the food, which Karen appreciates. ]

I think there's a trick to it. You have to imagine yourself eating something you love.

[A smile and a little laugh goes along with that, and she pushes her food aside to have a conversation.]

What's your favorite food?

[monomachy]

[That gets a laugh out of her, and she hopes she's made Karen feel a little more at ease. This has been trying for all of them, and she's been doing her best to find any way to make it easier. Humor seems to be one way, at least.]

Dolma.

[The answer is immediate, and she looks wistfully down at the grayish blobs on her plate.]

Grape leaves stuffed with meat and rice. Perhaps my imagination is simply lacking.

003;

[crayzies]

Hey, tol girl.

[The voice is American, somewhere West Coast, probably. Just the faintest trace of an accent, the way that some bilingual people have when they grew up in a household that was fluent in two languages and spent a lot of time with each. Young, male. Not the one that she'd like to hear, but friendly for all that. When she looks up from her wrathful glower/effort to melt the table with eyeballs alone, it's a young man she's never seen before. Ostensibly, unlike some of those she's come across so far.

He's holding a tray of dubious-looking food. Despite the quality of said meal, he looks like he's in high spirits. She's met boys like him before, probably. The ones who look like they're in high spirits, even when they're not. Sometimes, you have to walk the walk and talk the talk, and wait for your heart to play catch-up.]

This seat taken?

[subplot]

[He's young. Probably a teenager, she thinks. That buffers any annoyance she might otherwise feel at being called tol girl. Instead of saying anything about it she offers him a slight smile and gives a shake of her head. There's a gesture to accompany it, signaling that he should have a seat. Company sounds pretty nice right about now.]

There's plenty of other seats.

[It's pointed out softly, in almost a self-depreciating kind of way.]

But thank you. I was starting to feel like a social outcast in the lunchroom at high school.

[crayzies]

Hahahaha, [says Zack, thinking automatically that she must be making fun of him— as if somehow, his history in Angel Grove was something people could see just by looking at him. His ill mother, his absentee father, the classes that he barely attends and the solitude of the trainyards.

But then he realizes-- she's just jokin' around. Like people do. He grins anyway, and plunks himself down with his dubious-looking meal.]

The fact you know what a 'lunchroom' is, and 'high school' feels like some kind of miracle, [he says.] Lot more different kinds of people here than I knew about at home. United Nations got nothing on us. [he picks up his fork and begins stabbing.] I'm Zack. What's your name?

[subplot]

I'm not that old. I still remember high school!

[She laughs, giving him an amused little smile. She even manages to eat a bite of her sorry excuse for food thanks to his presence cheering her up.]

I'm Karen, by the way. Karen Page. I'm from New York City.

[Since he's brought up the whole UN thing, she figures it's a good idea to give her last known location too. ]

[crayzies]

Oh shi-it. The Big Apple. [he nods his head with admiration, wiping a wisp of some gross spacefood off his mouth. the big apple! he doesn't care nearly as much as many other kids his age, about going to famous places, doing famous things, meeting famous people— which isn't bad, just incongruent with his unhappy preoccupations back home. he admittedly isn't exactly achievement-oriented, either. but you meet people, and sometimes they remind you there's more to life than a wee fishing hamlet.] Never been. Never wanted to go.

But if I ever get home, [and he's forcing himself to be light, jokey about this,] I'm definitely checking it out now. YOLO.

I'm from California. Really small town on the coast, you probably never heard of it. Angel Grove? [he's-- not actually being sneaky, but in a second he'll remember and check her face for 'holy shit that's where the aliens were' surprise.]

( wake up )

[possidetur]

( a hand reaches across to meet karen's, trying to find a little familiarity in this unknown place, checking, almost, that the woman pushed in with her is also real. vanessa doesn't answer at first, eyes searching what she can immediately see )

Where are we?

( would this woman know? had they both been brought here? it looked so unfamiliar to vanessa, so strange in design )

[subplot]

[She definitely doesn't know the feeling of that hand against hers, and she gently tries pulling her own hand back toward her body. It's not done to be rude but to keep herself from panicking.]

I'm not sure. The screen on this device says Reverie Terminal, but I have no idea where that would be.

[Or if it's even a place at all. She groans a little as she sits up, rubbing at her head. The feel of it pounding is disorienting enough that she feels dizzy.]

[possidetur]

I haven't heard of it either.

( vanessa moves to slowly sit up, feeling the metal around her, head turning to look around her. all there is still is metal )

I'm not certain it's anywhere we would want to be.

( it has a distinctly trapping feeling )

[subplot]

No. [She agrees with that assessment, frowning as she moves to push herself to stand. She isn't able to thanks to the low ceiling, and she brings a hand up to push against it. It doesn't budge, and so Karen leans forward to start feeling at the wall in front of them. It has some grooves that feel like they might be handles.]

I think we'll be able to force our way out.