EVENT ★ RECOLLECTION DAY

[futurologists]

RECOLLECTION DAY On the recruits' return to Oska, they will find some dreary weather, plus the entire castle and town decorated in purple and silver. Ribbons, streamers, and lights in ALASTAIR's colors fill every populated space, and there are more people milling about than before: humanoids and others in equal measure, all of them dressed in ALASTAIR uniforms of some degree. Dagny, Uruz, Cherenkov, and Crowley can be found among the others, as can recent recruit Pomarr, the undead Dakal from the last mission. The weather seems to be due to Pomarr. It's generally overcast around Oska, but the in area nearest to their newest recruit it will always be softly raining to some degree. THE FEAST Inside the castle, one of the many studies is decorated lavishly in the same purple-and-silver scheme as the rest of Oska. Today the kitchen is porting food directly into this room, where it's set out along long tables at the edges of the room. You can find anything here, food to suit any kind of diet from any kind of planet at all. There are no promises that all food will suit all diets, though. But still, if you want to try the bubbling pot of orange with the little worms that keep trying to struggle out of it, no one's going to stop you. A well-dressed, gently green lady stands at the center of the room, nursing a wineglass full of something silvery and addressing the room at large. She seems to be going over the history of Oska, to anyone who will listen. The gist of it is that Oska was once an entire world, densely populated and well known for its music and carefully bred hunting companion animals. However, its energy was severely unbalanced, and the world was swiftly coming undone. ALASTAIR recruits of the time realized it was the very animals the natives so loved that were the focus of all of the planet's energy, but by the time they had finally figured it out and began to cull the animals, it was too late. This little scrap is all they managed to save. What locals remained eventually died out, being too few to repopulate by themselves, and ALASTAIR opted to move in and reclaim the space, so as not to let this world go entirely forgotten. With their very base of operations as a reminder of what can happen to any world at any time, ALASTAIR of today is not likely to forget the necessity of their mission any time soon. Come for the food, stay for the slightly depressing story, and leave again fuller and maybe a little more somber than you were before. THE OBSERVATORY This room is usually home to a large telescope, a ceiling that slides open, and a lot of gauzy, ethereal decoration. Today it's been cleared out for what seems to be a room-wide, three dimensional documentary, playing on repeat throughout the festival. Images of a vast star system are projected into this room from no identifiable source, floating holograms the viewer can walk between and admire from any angle. A deep, soothing, presumably male voice speaks over the moving images, describing the action as it unfolds. In the beginning, there was one universe. It was vast and eternal, and most importantly, self-sustaining. There was no reason to doubt it would go on forever. The images at this point are on a cosmic scale, an impossible number of tiny stars swirling in silent patterns. We don't know what shattered the harmony, we only know that shatter it, it did. We call this the Cataclysm. This part is clearly an artist's interpretation. Slivers of light snake across the universe like the cracks in a broken window, shaking apart the entire scene. Some of the broken sections implode onto themselves in beautiful colors; some of them spread out and consume their neighbors. It's beautiful in a way, and probably completely visually inaccurate to whatever the real event looked like. The voice continues: The Universe became the Multiverse. The harmony is broken, and the energy no longer balances out. Worlds are thrown into disarray and chaos, some burning out immediately while others struggle on as they are able. There are even dozens of iterations of the same reality existing in some places, just barely splintered from one another and overlapping in impossible ways. The shards of our formerly united reality are nearly limitless. There are flashes of worlds as the narrator's voice continues. Each one lasts no longer than five seconds, filling the room and then flashing into the next scene. These are flashes of real worlds, broadcast up from the mysterious Viewing Hall and all of its mirrors down in the dungeons. Recruits watching diligently enough may even catch sight of familiar scenes. This is ALASTAIR's duty. We travel from reality to reality, doing what we must to equalize the energy. The necessary tasks can vary wildly, as wildly as the realities themselves do. In some worlds we find great success, snatching them from the brink of destruction and allowing them to continue on, rebalanced. Some worlds cannot be saved. The images shift, this time replaying old, completed missions. The variety is huge here, too. One team of blue humanoids dressed in ALASTAIR purple struggles to pull a mammoth out of a tar pit. Two small, doglike recruits dash through a dark alleyway, dodging laser fire. A team of something human-shaped but bundled up in spacesuits climb carefully through the weightlessness of space along the outside edge of an enormous spaceship. The narrator has just one more line to add: Ours is no easy task, but if not us. . . who? The informational recording fades out, and five minutes later, plays again from the beginning. THE COURTYARD Down in the courtyard, the festivities continue, this time led by Dagny and Uruz. They have a great number of temporary pens set up in the middle of the area, each one holding a strange, fantastical animal, which doesn't seem at all happy to be there. These are new mounts, Uruz will explain. Each one of them was personally rescued from a dying world by Dagny and herself. They're not quite tame yet, though, and so they've made a competition of it: anyone who can convince a creature to let them sit astride its back and then guide it into a pen in the stables proper will win a prize. Dagny would like to request that you be really careful, please! Those tusks and spikes can get really sharp. The prize given to any winning recruit will be a small, silvery musicbox. Opening it plays a soothing tune that will calm anything within the area for about 30 minutes. It can only be used once. Feel free to make up what kind of creature your character runs into. The stables of ALASTAIR are well known for their variety! LOST ORBS Have you ever wondered how Oska is powered? Well, obviously it's plasma orbs, how else? Oska's resident cats have been hard at work creating more of these, to the point that those not yet in use need somewhere to be contained. The problem is, these things are mobile. They'll float anywhere they please with some kind of debatable mind of their own, and lately it's not been uncommon to see two or three of them floating idly down the hallway together. Crowley and Cherenkov have requested recruit assistance in corralling these things and bringing them to a room set up to keep them in on the third floor. They're a bit like slowly deflating helium balloons, and can be guided with gentle taps to get them floating along in the right direction. Touching one of them is a strange experience that tends to leave hair standing on end. Touching more than one of them at the same time, however, is not recommended. Simultaneous contact with two or more plasma orbs has been known to have strange effects on people, including but not limited to developing the power to fly, sudden weightlessness, animal shapeshifting, ice breath, teleportation, and creating a protective and impenetrable bubble around oneself. None of these effects lasts longer than two minutes, and in each case, the following magitek hangover will make any orb-toucher feel awful for at least half an hour. HOTSPRINGS There's a new addition to Oska, down by the lake. It seems another team recently extracted an enormous, very hot core from a sentient and murderous AI. The core's power source isn't expected to run out for at least another thousand years, and unsure what else to do with it, the team dug it a pit not far from the lake. They failed to realize that this would accidentally have a very, very pleasant outcome. There are now hotsprings by the lake, nestled into the small grove of trees that grow around it. The water bubbles softly up from the ground in a new (technically man-made) pool, and some enterprising recruits have built wooden decks and stairs around and through the whole affair. It's a little bit of a hike to get there from the castle, but anyone who has visited can agree: it's worth it. OOC INFO Welcome to the festival! This will ICly last for 3 days (and OOCly for 2 weeks), at the end of which the other teams visiting the party will ship out to other missions and leave the PC team to unwind with Oska all to themselves. Through the duration of the festival, recruits will find themselves asked one question repeatedly: do you new guys have a team name yet? It seems everyone else has a team name! Really, it's just sort of sad that a team this big doesn't have a name, isn't it? We'll be including a section for characters to ICly suggest team names, and later on will be hosting an IC vote to pick a team name. Characters who signed up to remain in Nalawi for three months will arrive late to the party, but how late is up to players.

Comments

[1]

[adlantisag]

[ Evan might feel a napkin wiping away the purple smear on his cheek. It's a surprisingly benign gesture, possibly alien to him given the one administering it, but Kida's expression is soft. Her uniform, once pristine white, is not several shades ranging from 'off-white' to 'mud brown', and stained in several places with grass.

She looks exhausted, but relieved, somehow. ]

An interesting display, for certain. Hello, Evan.

[ The napkin is pulled away with the same unhurried grace it arrived. ]

Is the cake good?

[evantuality]

[Evan goes still when the napkin catches him by surprise. In a manner rather more kittenish than he'd generally care to admit to, his reaction to a good startle is more often than not to go limp. In this case he stares with his one good eye round underneath an arced eyebrow, all the way up that hand and to its owner.

At which point he exclaims.]

Kida!

[He lowers the cupcake and stares at the woman. He's got such mixed feelings about her: immediately she evokes a split-second flash memory of the scent of burnt flesh, and for a moment the faint whiff of barbeque from the buffet table turns his stomach; but at the same time there's a respect that runs deep, sprung from the same incident. If she intimidates him a little, it's some alchemical mixture of those two reactions and he feels a touch sheepish for it.]

You look -- you look like you just got back. You were on a mission, right?

Uh. [Belatedly he catches the question, forgotten briefly in his startlement. He looks down at the cupcake and grins.] It's a nice treat after a diet of fish and seaweed, to be sure.

[adlantisag]

I was called away, yes.

[ Her mouth forms a thin, aching line at the words. ]

To a planet of endless rain and endless mud. We were asked to plant trees, slowly.

[ She grounds out the last word. The napkin is lowered completely, before being tossed in a nearby wastebasket with perhaps more force than should truly be necessary. ]

[evantuality]

[His grin widens a little and he does his best to fight it back down. Her frustration isn't funny, exactly -- okay so maybe it's a little funny considering the source, but he doesn't want to make it worse by making her feel laughed at. He inclines his head, sympathetic.]

Well, welcome back to the world of the quick and the fed, I suppose. Planting trees? I guess ALASTAIR's purview must extend to the mundane as much as the dramatic, that makes some sense. I suppose battling deforestation could count as a world-saving proposition.

[He's babbling a little with the good mood of the day and with how pleased he is to see a familiar face looking a lot less stressed out than she was.]

[adlantisag]

[ She sees the way the corners of his mouth curl, and she's ready to roll her eyes before he gives her a sympathetic nod. She appreciates the concession; she doesn't really want to talk about the landslide, or its results for her newfound team. ]

We were reforming the planet's environment to be more hospitable. If we did not, it would become a home of monsters.

[ She has no idea how true that is, if at all; planetary-scale planning is beyond her. She does know that she found Mik'tas to be a hellhole. She plucks a cake pop from a stand, chomping down on it with gusto. He was right, of course; it is a nice treat. ]

[evantuality]

You did? Would it?

[But Evan knows his own eagerness at the hypothetical that ALASTAIR had presented is perhaps misdirected. If he leans in for a moment, he sighs and straightens up again, grinning.]

Sometimes I think it would be just so fascinating to actually see these theoreticals that ALASTAIR keeps coming up with, just in whatever format they see their predictions in. There's got to be a lot more ambiguity there than they're presenting us with, hasn't there?

[He always feels a little on-edge around Kida, but in this case it translates mostly to an extra shade or two of emphatic commitment to gestures and words. He is, after all, happy to see her well.

Or, well enough. He tries to subtly peek and see if she's favoring the leg he helped cauterize, as he does tend to when he sees her. It had been such a gory thing, and had seemed so impossible to heal all the way, but here she was.]