epidemiology | EVENT ★ PREPARE FOR TROUBLE

EVENT ★ PREPARE FOR TROUBLE

READY

After two weeks en route, the Mothership (maybe you should come up with a new name for it?) arrives at the rendezvous point. ALASTAIR technicians rift aboard and get to work, scurrying about the captured vessel to fiddle with controls and levers and buttons. After roughly a half hour, there's a flash of light --

And the Mothership is moored to Oska, tethered to the fragmented universe by strands of magitek and now safely encapsulated in the cloaking barrier keeping Oska hidden from prying eyes. Though Zymandis at large is no longer a problem, there must be teams still out there who are undoubtedly angry about losing their home base, so keeping the barrier up is a matter of safety.

Once they're ready, Audentes can disembark the Mothership via teleportation pads, beaming them directly to Oska's courtyard. There is already a line forming here of curious ALASTAIR recruits looking to teleport up to the Mothership and look around, and in fact, if you think Oska is a little more crowded than usual . . . you'd be right.

Usually only occupied by support staff and the occasional off-duty team or two, Oska is bustling with activity, similar to the sort of crowds seen at the Nondenominational Winter Celebration or Recollection Day. Except now, there is no revelry nor merriment, only a lot of people preparing for something very big on the horizon.

SET

While Audentes was off capturing the Mothership, it seems as though the TIMELINE.exe has calculated the most likely location of its twin, Zymandis's Timeline machine. Rift technicians are double-checking his work to ensure it's somewhere that recruits can safely rift to, but they're hopeful that they'll be able to deploy teams shortly to make short work of Zymandis's mechanical heart.

In the meantime, the technologically gifted are requested to help ALASTAIR scientists and engineers devise an upgrade for the TIMELINE.exe; if his calculations are correct and Zymandis's machine is where he says it is, it's important that its operating system is overridden with the new TIMELINE.exe 1.0.03 file. Otherwise there will be a chance that the universe-purging operating system that Zymandis follows will survive and all the efforts ALASTAIR has made through the centuries will be for naught.

For those who don't know their way around a motherboard, there's plenty of things to do -- with how many teams are in Oska, preparing for what is hopefully the final battle against Zymandis, you're likely to run into a familiar face or two. If socializing isn't in your wheelhouse, hone your skills in the courtyard or, for a bigger challenge, in the training room.

ALASTAIR support staff could also use assistance in the medical center or greenhouse, preparing vials, potions, and tinctures for use in the battle ahead. And if you're feeling really altruistic, stop by the kitchens to prepare some food for the one thousand Zymandis prisoners now filling the dungeons.

You didn't forget about the prisoners, did you? Of the captured Zymandis agents, only a small portion of them have agreed to join ALASTAIR. The rest are either too deadset in their belief in the Zymandis Timeline machine, or they're too distrusting of ALASTAIR to even consider joining up. The dungeons of Oska castle have not been used for their intended purpose in centuries -- prisoners are usually given a simple, heavily-guarded room somewhere in the castle -- but with this many prisoners, there's really nowhere else to put them all. Perhaps if someone were to be kind to them, they might change their mind about joining ALASTAIR's cause.

There's a lot to do and a lot to prepare for, so don't forget the relaxing opportunities that Oska has to offer: the baby squidges are due back on Zeta-12 soon for their maturation ceremony, so give them a warm goodbye while you can; the hotsprings is always a good place to relax one's muscles after a warm day; and the library is available for those who like to settle in with a good book in a dimly-lit room.

Most importantly, take advantage of this time in Oska. You'll need all the preparation you can get.

OOC NOTES

Welcome back to Oska! If you have any questions about this log, please direct them to the game FAQ. You may also submit mission ideas or player plots at any time.

Guest characters will be admitted to the comms until 14 October 23:59 UTC, so there's still time to sign up! We're excited to see some familiar faces and can't wait for you to be a part of the season finale.

We're in the home stretch now, so if you haven't taken the time to review our updated schedule, please do!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ bellamy’s door is ajar, more than wide enough for sieglinde to sneak a peek or slip inside if she so desires. his room is sparse, undecorated and without any real sense that someone lives there, and would be easy to mistake for a yet uninhabited room -- if not for the tapestry and dark jacket neatly folded side by side on the bed. the jacket looks noticeably worn and frayed, but attached to it is the tell-tale label of the green witch’s favor.

the room seems to be empty… ]

[At first, she does only intend to look. Having her own share of secrets, a strong sense of privacy when it came to her own pursuits, she didn't exactly want to rummage through people's belongings...

But she was curious, and the door was already slightly open.

Sieglinde is a small thing, petite even for her young age and dressed prettily in green, slightly misshapen feet disguised with silk ribbon and stockings, long hair done up in horn-shaped hennin... more suited to a manor house than stealth operations.

She sees the item of clothing- or rather, a sleeve, perhaps, cranes a bit to try and get a better look without really opening the door, fingers tight on the wood to support her weight and balance as she leans...

And slips.

And stumbles.

And barely manages to catch herself before she hits the floor face first, but. With a squeak and a colorful tumble... she ends up properly inside.

AT LEAST IT'S EMPTY, RIGHT?]

[ the room is, as a matter of fact, completely empty of anyone aside from sieglinde. ]

Looking for something?

[ the voice comes from behind, in the hallway.

the number of concessions he’s made to ALASTAIR (in his mind at least) wouldn’t be so obvious to someone just meeting him. but in stark contrast to last time he was at oska, angrily refusing the use of just about any of the amenities, he’s cleaned up and accepted a change of clothes -- dark pants, a silvery grey shirt -- and there’s the edge of a wrapped bandage peeking out beneath one of his sleeves.

it shouldn’t seem like a weakness that even bellamy blake can’t resist the allure of freely available showers or fresher and cleaner clothes than he’s ever seen in his life, but he still feels like it means something. accepting being here, on some level, instead of fighting.

not that any of this shows on his face as he takes in the small girl that just tripped her way into his room. instead, he looks faintly amused. ]

[Her sigh of relief is very, very short-lived.

With a jilted, shocked series of movements, Sieglinde turns her head and manages to look back over her shoulder from where she half sprawls on her hands and knees just inside... his room? A room?

Think quick-]

... I tripped.

[In attempt to avoid lying, she throws out something... completely not relevant to the answer her's asking for, eyes wide and looking like she's just been caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

For all the skill she had learned in lying, illusions, and espionage in her years with ALASTAIR... that was for the field, for missions. Here in Oska amongst comrades, for something as petty as this... she has all the guile of a normal thirteen year old.]

I wouldn’t have guessed.

[ he says, because she clearly isn’t embarrassed enough as it is. but rather than question her further, he steps inside, carefully moving around her so that he can crouch in front of her and offer a hand up. YOU'RE NOT IN TROUBLE, SIEGLINDE.... ]

Are you okay?

[You never know when you might be in trouble. Or trampling someone else's cultural norms by accident. Or talking to a sociopath. Those were a few of the other lessons she's learned in Audentes.

But he at least seems... disarmingly charming, and easy on the eyes, so when he offers a hand she eventually accepts it.]

I am most used to such things, I am alright.

[She may have had her bound feet rebroken and uncurled them from the folded, three inch long mockeries they'd once been, but Sieglinde's feet, revealed a bit better as she awkwardly stands, still have a slight warp to the arch and twist to her stance, lacking most feeling in the extremities. But tendency to trip often was far better than not being able to walk well at all.]

Thank you for your assistance, Sir... ?

[She busies herself fluffing down her heavy skirts.]

[ he’s not so attached to the room to consider anyone entering an invasion of space or privacy; and he may never be. the only time he staked out a space for himself was his tent outside the dropship back when it was only the hundred, him, and raven on the ground. he spent most of his life sharing a small room with his mom and sister on the ark, and refused a room of his own when the people from the sky were building a permanent settlement on the ground. this room in a castle seems too big to him, too much, too luxurious for him to ever feel comfortable here. no different from how he feels about oska in general.

sieglinde benefits, too, from her age; she’s young and small, so he spares her his rougher edges. age doesn’t usually mean much in his world, but he’s an older brother to the core.

he pulls her up easily enough, standing as she does, and the slight wrongness of her feet doesn’t go unnoticed. noticed, but not understood; the practice of foot binding is a thing of his world’s distant past, and he has no context to recognize its scars. ]

“Sir” nothing. It’s just Bellamy. [ he realizes she is something of a familiar face, even if they’ve never met. her style of dress makes her recognizable, and he makes a point of knowing his teammates’ faces. she’s no new arrival, lost in an alien castle. ] What’s your name?

[ it's now, standing, that his eyes light on the additional gift sitting next to the tapestry. he hasn't bothered with looking at the ornamental fabric yet; it was there when he returned to his room earlier, together with the gun he now wears holstered at his side, and he'd assumed it to be a pointless trinket from ALASTAIR. ]

-- looks like you're not the only one who's been in here.

[ the things that happen when you don't shut your door, apparently. ]

Bellamy, then.

[An odd name by her standards, but then again, she had never left her village before joining ALASTAIR, and it was not as if she met many people to keep track of names. If it wasn't in a classic liteature volume, she had to add it to her own mental list.

But when it comes to her own introduction... she moves to curtsy, or at least, her vest version of it, lifting her skirts just slightly in a pinch of fingers and dipping slightly so as not to upset precarious balance.]

I am Sieglinde Sullivan, the-

[Ah. Would it see like boasting or asking for praise to say now the title she usually used with her given name? Or would it seem odd to discover later she had concealed it? With a moment's hesitation, she finally adds,]

.... Green Witch.

[ he hasn't stepped away from her yet, hasn't yet read the tag telling him who he can thank for the gift, so rather than familiarity all that registers at her title is, well --

a vague irritation. normally he'd assume the epithet to be a child's self-given name, or even point out that witches aren't real...except that he's been here long enough that he's met all kinds of people. just back on the mothership, he watched loki work magic to get a monster off their backs. and while it'd been useful, it had been undeniable evidence of the supernatural. in another life, bellamy might've been interested in magic being real -- but as it is, his eyebrows just lift. ]

The Green Witch. That color mean something?

[ or is it...her favorite color... are there witches for every color. ]

[Sieglinde couldn't begrudge anyone a healthy dose of skepticism. She knew better than many how vague the line could be between "magic" and "science", yet at the same time how starkly separate they were viewed in many worlds. In her own, even. Or, what had once been her own. She hasn't seen it in years now.]

The Green Witch's lineage specializes in healing and creation- the natural arts.

[So she just answers the question, with helpful additions.]

As opposed to... black magic and the sort. You have nothing to fear from me.

[She does wear a lot of green, though, even the ribbons in her hair.]

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EVENT ★ PREPARE FOR TROUBLE

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WAVES ENTHUSIASTICALLY

:D

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i'm so slow omg i'm sorry

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