epidemiology | EVENT ★ THE BATTLE FOR OSKA

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EVENT ★ THE BATTLE FOR OSKA

THE BATTLE FOR OSKA

A message is sent to teams Audentes, Unicorn, and Ambrosia via magitek early in the morning, alerting all users to expect to be rifted back to Oska in three hours. Shortly after that comes a message from the Queen of Terra Felis, requesting that recruits stop by the palace briefly to receive her blessing. Any recruits who oblige her will find that her blessing is actually a very physical gift: a feeling of peace that washes over each person as soon as they step into the palace. This feeling will persist for the next 12 hours, and comes with a boost to either strength or speed for the duration of it. It's the Queen's way of wishing her departing guests good luck.

Then comes the rift, and finally, Oska.

ARRIVAL

Oska isn't doing well. The devastation is immediately apparent in the blistered and blackened stone of the castle, completely blasted apart in some areas. Plantlife about the castle has been completely shredded, entire trees reduced to splintered stumps. The area recruits are rifted into is temporarily safe, guarded by team Mariposa, all of them of a large, fiercely warlike species, each heavily armed. There are only five of them, but that's enough to defend the little corner of Oska set up to receive the incoming teams.

The largest, most battle-scarred member of Mariposa issues no orders, but fills arrivals in on the situation: there are several models of robots focusing on the destruction of the castle. Hear that distant, repetitive thud? The largest robots, the 15-foot (457cm) models, area busy hammering at an interior wall, trying to break into the Mechanical Room. They're the main priority -- but don't lose track of the flanking and defensive models, they're there to cause whatever carnage they can while the largest ones tear down the castle itself. Basically, take out every robot you see, as fast as you can.

Those who can't fight have another, even more important job. There are defense nodes scattered throughout Oska, some inside the castle, some outside, even some in the village. These are small panels that blend in with the scenery. They each need to be opened up and rebooted with an access code put in via number pad. When every single node has been rebooted, the cloaking device will fully activate throughout this entire dimension, getting it permanently off of Zymandis's radar once more. Any recruit who volunteers for this job will have a map of each node location sent to their magitek. The robots don't seem to realize the importance of these nodes and usually ignore them, but will attack anyone they see working at one.

OPPONENTS

The biggest models are the PW15s; with sledgehammers at the end of their arms, they're programmed just to break down and tear apart foundation. They're currently working on busting their way into the Mechanical Room, where the TIMELINE.exe is kept. They must be stopped. Without the TIMELINE.exe, ALASTAIR is left aimless and adrift. These machines work ceaselessly at their task, and can only be distracted by focusing temporarily on a target right in front of them. Otherwise, they will ignore any attacks on them and keep working on the wall in front of them until they are torn apart themselves.

PW15s are guarded by the Shielders. These are the basic eight-foot (245cm) models, but each comes with a large light shield it will use to defend itself and the PW15s. They stay behind these impenetrable shields and fire lasers from safety, but don't have very advanced programming. They will swivel around to face their target, leaving themselves open to attacks from behind. Tag teaming these robots is very effective.

Airbombers can be tricky to navigate, as these robots fly. They're light and fast, but shots from their canons don't do much more than issue small but severe burns. The real danger is in letting one get directly overhead, as once it has done so it will release two to six bombs, which do great damage to people and property upon impact.

The last model to look out for is the T15, which is small but tenacious. These are no bigger than a large dog, and will scuttle quickly forward until they've spotted a target. At that point they plant themselves and begin to fire a concentrated beam of laser at whatever they've spotted until it has stopped moving. These models have very simple programming and few defenses, but are impossible to dissuade from firing while their target is still in sight. They have no sense of object permanence, though, and even ducking behind scenery will confuse one into thinking it's eliminated its target.

THE FIGHT

The arrival of the three teams from Terra Felis do a lot to tip the scales in Oska's favor, but the fight still rages for a full day after their arrival. Team Kittypaw can be seen engaging throughout the grounds -- Uruz and Dagny fiercely defend the stables and the squidge garden, and are tired but nowhere near ready to give up. Cassie leads attacks into robot-heavy areas with gun-blazing gusto and seems to be having the time of her life, but even her energy isn't unlimited. Cherenkov and Crowley are on defense node duty, and can be spotted as a black or white streak on their way to activate the next node, avoiding the bulk of the fighting.

Anyone who needs a break will be instructed to visit the library. Not even the robots are a match for the librarians, who have made it their utmost priority to ensure that nothing unauthorized sets foot among the books. Food and pillows have been brought in, and the area can be used as a base for resting and refueling between fights. Between fending off robots, the librarians will still warily scrutinize anyone eating or drinking too close to a book. They've allowed it, but don't push your luck and get messy.

The fight drags on for almost a full, exhausting 24 hours, but just as dawn begins to come to the little scrap of Oska's dimension, a shimmering races briefly through the sky as the last defense node is rebooted and the shield is reactivated. Any remaining robots jolt and then go still, permanently offline. (Friendly robots might also feel a jolt, but are spared any damage thanks to careful programming.) The collective teams of ALASTAIR finally have a moment to breathe and relax. The fight is over.

AFTERMATH

There is a lot to rebuild and, unfortunately, some mourning to do. Services for those fallen in the fight will be held the following day. They are quick but heartfelt affairs, with friends of the downed recruits speaking a few words about what will be most remembered and missed about their comrades.

Overall, though, the mood is grimly triumphant -- they've just managed to fend off Zymandis, after all. Or at least, a fraction of Zymandis. There are quite a few murmurs of gratitude for the shields being restored in time to stop anything bigger from finding them.

The castle begins to slowly rebuild itself, rocks teetering their way back into place and tapestries slowly restitching themselves. Left to its own devices, it would probably take several years of this for the castle to fully restore itself. It very obviously appreciates recruits lending a hand to rebuilding, though. Suits of armor will bring workers little trinkets of gratitude, or food from the kitchen, which produces it in generous heaps. The castle's rebuilding efforts will even focus a little more strongly on the rooms of anyone helping out, down to any personal effects that were damaged in the fight or otherwise.

Welcome home, Audentes. Rebuilding will last for the full three weeks given until their next mission, and still won't be complete by the time they ship out. But still, try to relax before your next trip out.

OOC NOTES

This log will last ICly and OOCly for three weeks (with the initial battle lasting one day), with the next mission beginning on 21 May. Please use this post to plot amongst yourselves!

The other ALASTAIR teams in Oska at the moment are Unicorn and Ambrosia, who were with Audentes in Terra Felis, Kittypaw, Mariposa, who greeted the new arrivals, and Kraken, a 10-recruit team made of various aquatic and amphibious species who use the lake as their home base during the fight. More teams will be rifting in to help with reconstruction, after the battle is over.

Questions about this log can be directed here. Questions about the game in general should be directed to the FAQ. You may also submit mission ideas or player plots at any time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Don't touch that.

[Sorry, Mettaton. He really doesn't have any faith after the flour incident. Seeing him have his hands anywhere near the fire is very concerning. He ends up hovering around him rather than helping, not sure if he will end up putting his hands in the flame or the hot pan.]

You should probably hold off on pressing your face on steaks too. Do you want me to watch the pan?

[He wants Mettaton to get to be in charge of his meal, but this is giving him real anxiety.]

[The crease of Mettaton's mouth says "I wasn't going to," but the startled look in his eyes says otherwise. He drops his hand, pouting, as he watches the onions caramelize.

In goes the lamb now, despite Oliver's anxiousness over Mettaton being near a hot stove.]

It's fine, Oli. This recipe doesn't call for it to be shaped like me. [A wink. He's joking.] Though I don't think anyone would object. I'm delicious.

[Sigh!! A wistful look crosses his face as he watches the meat begin to brown.]

You know... I've never cooked with actual meat before. There wasn't a lot of choice in food, where I'm from, so everyone had to settle with being vegetarians regardless of what they wanted. Ha. The only other thing we had were spiders and snails.

I hear spider donuts actually aren't that bad.

I don't-- [Oliver stutters, face reddening at the implication of his words. How does he even reply to that?

Luckily (???) he's saved having to carry on embarrassing himself by how appalling his explanation of what kind of cuisine had been available to him before is. His face contorts into an expression of horror. He's kidding, right? There's no way he isn't having him on.]

Are you serious?

[Pft. Mettaton catches the blushing, chuckling to himself as he stirs the contents of the pan with a spatula. Humans are so adorable...]

We were trapped under a mountain for thousands of years, sweetheart. There wasn't a choice.

[A smirk.]

You should ask Sans about his hot dogs.

I guess that must have left things pretty limited.

[He's really not sure he wants to know what Sans made his hot dogs out of. Hopefully not spiders, but snails doesn't sound like a good alternative either. He can only hope they were some form of vegetarian hot dog than those options.

Thinking about it is putting him off the smell of the food that's cooking, but shouldn't he consider himself lucky? He's never been forced to eat anything unappealing.]

I'm sorry. I shouldn't be acting so freaked out when it's not like you could help what you had to eat when you were trapped for so long.

[If anything it's amazing they managed to survive so long. He goes quiet for a moment, sounding rather subdued when he speaks again.]

Do you want me to get the potatoes ready for the top?

Ha!! No need to apologize! I'm a ROBOT, darling! I never had to eat ANY of it.

[He just raised and sold the snails. He never had to put any in his incorporeal mouth. Suckers.

He's seasoning the food when the question sinks in.]

Oh! If you would, please? And the strainer, thank you.

Edited 2017-05-08 00:03 (UTC)

But other people did.

[He brings the strainer to him first, then settles himself into the role of potato peeler. Mettaton looks a little less immediately in danger now, but he still keeps glancing over at him in case his hand starts straying too close to the flame or he puts something else in his mouth he's not meant to.]

They did, [he agrees, though whether that's sympathy or schadenfreude tinting his voice can't be detected. He takes the strainer, then takes the pan toward the sink to drain the fats and oils. Once the pan is back on the stove, in goes the butter and peas.

...it does actually smell good. This is terrible. How is he supposed to wait so long to actually try it?!

Mettaton reaches for the flour again, but thankfully it's not to taste. He sprinkles it into the pan with everything else, sighing.]

So!! Have you done any cooking for anyone else?

[Oliver shrugs. Cooking is a big part of human life, so of course he has. It can be special, but it isn't always.]

Not here, but I've cooked for people before. Friends. Family. Boyfriends. Lots of people. It's pretty normal for humans to cook for each other.

["Boyfriends?" As in, "more than one?"

How is it multiple people could find Oliver attractive and he still doesn't see it in himself? That's... a tragedy, really.

It's hard to decide whether to smile at the emotional side of cooking or frown at the sadness that is Oliver's self-esteem. Mettaton settles on keeping his expression neutral, adding in the next ingredients to simmer. Wine, worchestershire sauce (? what IS this?), tomato paste, chicken stock...]

I think it's awfully romantic. Showing your love through hard work, a desire to nourish...

Did they like it?

[Maybe because he keeps falling for taken men here. X(

He grins, flattered even though Mettaton's never tasted his cooking. He puts the potatoes to boil, smelling the food that's already heating as he does. It smells good. Mettaton seems like he's picked out a good recipe.]

I think so. No one's ever complained about it. I used to get a lot of take out, but I think I'm pretty good at cooking. Maybe I could make something for you sometime. If you wanted me to.

[He'd like to. He seems like he'd really appreciate someone doing something like that for him.]

... [That's... that's so... sweet.

He's not tearing up. Why would he?!! He completely used to people selflessly offering to do things for him!! It's not surprising at all!

He sniffles ungracefully, smiling, when he notices the pot of potatoes on the stove.]

Ah- Oh, sweetheart, those'll never get done in time. Let me handle that.

[Let's see... Lid, lid... ah, there's one! He grabs the pot by a handle and covers it with a lid to keep any of the water from boiling out of it. Then, after taking it off the burner and placing it onto the counter, Mettaton runs a charge from his hand and into the pot, immediately boiling the water.

He's humming pleasantly to himself as he waits.]

...that would be lovely, though. Thank you.

Oh! Hey, wai--

[He's a little alarmed, not sure what Mettaton's doing, but his question is answered pretty quickly and he seems to be okay. He drops his hand from where he'd been about to grab his wrist. Maybe he should be putting a little more trust in him when he isn't trying to put things in his mouth.]

Is there anything you've really been wanting to try? Besides shepherd's pie?

Hm? [Has he been really wanting to try this?] Oh, no, this one isn't for me, really, it's--

[For a jerk. A jerk that's homesick and could use something nice, for once, instead of just scowling at everything all the time.

Mettaton bites his lip despite himself, shrugging as the potatoes finish with their flash-boiling or whatever one might call... this.]

Never mind. Surprise me.

[He sets the pot back onto the counter and returns to his pan.

...he's pouring edible glitter into it now. Just because.]

For someone special?

[His tone is light and teasing, but he hopes it isn't. Maybe it's for a friend. Mettaton's kind like that.

He cringes as he adds the glitter to the mix, half laughing. Whoever this is for, he feels a little sorry for them.]

You probably shouldn't be adding glitter to this. That's more for baking.

[Someone "special"...?] Someone specially designed to be a dork, maybe, [he mutters, but not without affection. The worst part about having a body capable of physical sensation is that he can feel his face making some sort of dopey expression. It's horrible. He can't look professional if his eyes start glazing over and his smile goes coy - he looks like a blushing schoolboy who just found a letter from a secret admirer.

A secret admirer that was also a cactus, but apparently hearts just can't be trusted.

Anyway. He's stirring in the glitter regardless of Oliver's instructions. It's a staple. It proves Mettaton is the one who made it.]

Would you mind mashing those potatoes for me, gorgeous? This portion's almost ready.

[Ah. Maybe he doesn't outright say it, but that's a yes.]

Sure. I can do that.

[He goes to get the potatoes, moving them a little further away to mash them than he might have otherwise. He doesn't want Mettaton to see his disappointment at the answer. That's not fair.]

So who is it? Must be pretty hot if he's worthy of your first meal.

...

[Well, that's definitely... a statement. Mettaton watches as his friend pulls himself away, literally, and listens to the strange emphasis on hot and he. Neither one of those are coincidences.

Mettaton may pretend to be as dumb as a glittery rock, but he knows a thing or two about jealousy.

He watches his own pan simmer, refusing to wipe to the smile off his face.] He dresses like a complete idiot, [he admits, still sounding fond.] Rest assured, this has nothing to do with classic beauty. But... [Sigh!!] He's sweet. Grumpy, but sweet. [He taps his fingers against the counter, once, twice.] He's the only person I've ever met who's wanted to get to know me. Not just the celebrity or the shiny robot, [hint, hint. Don't be jealous of someone when you have the opportunity and didn't take it, dear.] Me.

[Shrug.] I'd say that deserves something special, don't you?

[Oliver cringes. Was he that obvious? He'd wanted to sound light and jokey, but he'd clearly missed the mark. He'd like to tell him he wanted to get to know him too, but he doesn't think that would be taken well right now, not even as honest reassurance. He probably already thinks he's being a jackass.]

Yeah. It does. I'm glad you met someone who cares about you.

Me too.

[He means it. For a while, he just resigned himself to be alone for the rest of his existence. Not out of self-pity, no, just... out of practicality. If he never committed to anyone, they'd never have to get close enough to find out what he really was. He'd never have to disappoint anyone. It's not as if he wasn't already surrounded by the love of his craft and the love of his friends and whatever few fans he really had.

...but having someone is nice. It's still new, obviously. It's a little terrifying. They argue constantly and never cease to tease over any little thing, but it's based in understanding and acceptance.

So it's nice.

Mettaton pulls the milk, butter, salt, and pepper off the counter and joins Oliver's side. He pours them in while his friend mashes the potatoes, smiling.]

You're sweet too, you know. Probably the most handsome of all my friends. You'll be dazzling someone soon too, mark my words.

I don't know about that.

[He doesn't quite meet his eyes, giving the potatoes a little more of his attention than they actually need. It's not because of Mettaton's proximity. At least not totally. He just hates what feels like empty condolences.

He's ready to meet someone new, but every guy he falls for it seems as though there's a reason they can't work out. First Achilles, now Mettaton. He's just glad he hasn't had the chance to get caught up on Mettaton the way he has Achilles. It hurts less finding out he's taken now than it would if he'd kept thinking he might still be available.]

Will you pour a little of that milk in here?

[Pft. Oli. Oli.]

I already did, Oli. Do you mind coming out of that pity-party and joining the rest of us?

[He nudges the other's shoulder with a fist, playfully. Come on, now.]

[I SWEAR I CAN READ.

Oliver blinks in embarrassment, but at least he is paying a little more attention to what's going on in the kitchen and not what's in his own mind now.]

I wasn't-- [He doubles down on the mashing. These are going to be some very smooth potatoes.] I'm sorry. It wasn't meant to sound like that. I just haven't met anyone I like who likes me back here. That doesn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe it's better to be single right now.

[Does he really believe that?

Well...

Not really, but he knows he'd be happier for it. It might be better to forget about meeting guys for the moment.]

Edited 2017-05-14 21:31 (UTC)

[Shrug. Maybe. Nothing wrong with that, after all.

Mettaton sneaks his hand in to pull on one of the pot's handles, before Oliver reduces this meal to a nice serving of potato-paste.]

You know, if you had asked me a month ago, I would have jumped on the opportunity to go on a date with you. Do with that what you will.

I'm going to get this together. Could you open the oven for me?

[That's... oddly reassuring, even if Mettaton has found someone else already. He does feel a twinge of regret, but he knows himself a month ago he only had eyes for Achilles. Still is, if he's being honest, but he's doing his best to move on from him.]

I was pretty hung up on someone already a month ago. But thank you. You're a good guy. I'd have been lucky.

[Too bad he's only starting to realize that now.

He does open up the oven for him. It's been heating for a while. It should be plenty hot enough for the pie by now.]

EVENT ★ THE BATTLE FOR OSKA

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