welcome to the horologium.Some of you know it is coming. The World Jump, the chaotic thrust into a new universe. But some of you are new, and though you know what the mission is, it is a bit . . . troubling, sitting around and waiting for something to happen. But eventually, you get a message on your watch. It shows Astoria . . . dark hair framing her features, her voice light and musical. She sounds like herself, for the first time in some time . . . that spark of determination back in her eyes. A MESSAGE FROM YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD WITCH. "It is time, my beloved Travelers, to go to our new destination . . . and I want you to know that I have the utmost faith in you. Akvos' loss has hurt us all, and I know that many of you doubt our mission. But please believe me when I say that you have done the best job anyone could ask of you. Akvos' destruction was not your fault . . . and to our newest members of our Circle, welcome to our journey. I can only hope that your journey here will work out to the benefit of us all."
That being said, you are journeying to the Horologium . . . it is a ship that has sent out a distress beacon. I am not sure when, or where, but I can feel great darkness, emanating from that place. I believe you all can combat what is done there, without interacting with the Void . . . so please, be safe, and I will see you all when you return."
And, just like that, there is a pull in your stomach . . . your vision blacks out and you feel the sudden sense of vertigo, a sensation of falling, and then . . . nothingness. You open your eyes, and you are suddenly waking up in the midst of . . . fog?
 THE AWAKENING.When you wake, you are greeted by metal — there’s an expanse of silver all around you. The cot you’re laying on is somewhat rigid, like a flattened wedge of cotton more than anything, encased in a capsule-like structure. Should you inspect your surroundings, you’ll find that there are three more cots in your room..or more notably, another person in the room in of itself. Depending on where you’ve been roused from your slumber, however, you’ll find that your circumstances differ.
➜ If you’ve woken up in the northeast wing of the ship, there seems to be a pool of saturated pink goo at your feet. It sticks to the bottom of your heel and collects at the very center of the room, oozing from the cracks and crevices within the metal lining of the walls. And even more notably, the goo has a particularly saccharine scent, as though it’s meant to be...consumed. Looks like you had the misfortune of waking up in the wing adjacent to the kitchen.
➜ In the northwest wing, the ship is functioning at an all time low. When you wake, the room is illuminated for a brief moment...before flickering out, only to leave you in pitch darkness. Power returns to the room intermittently and only for a few seconds at most, but it appears as though you and your newfound roommates will have to navigate the darkness if you want to leave.
➜ In the southwest wing, the fire alarm in your room has been activated for some inexplicable reason. It’s an obnoxiously loud siren that slices right through the whirring of the machinery around you — and it goes as far as to trigger the sprinklers hanging from the ceiling. Water sprays from above you, hopefully ensuring that you’ve woken up if nothing else has. It doesn’t seem to be draining either, so it may be for the best that you escape with some haste.
➜ In the southeast wing, your circumstances are for the most part rather unremarkable. An untouched room, mostly intact...until you try to open the door. It won’t budge — unless you have some form of super strength, your muscle power is rendered useless on its own. You might just have to commission someone else to help you...
Beyond your room, the word “Horologium.” stretches across the wall.
Welcome to your new home.  WHISPERS IN THE DARK.In a way, it feels as though you’re suspended in time.
The ship is always humming, always whirring as it makes a haphazard attempt to function. The noise comes to a halt every so often, leaving you with nothing but silence and the idle creaking of the floor beneath you.
There are remarkably large, bright white doors that divide each and every wing. A circular window is positioned at the center of all 4 of these doors: but nothing can be seen through it. It’s likeness is that of a black hole’s, like someone had gone as far as to paint over it.
On every door, the same word is emblazoned in black lettering: EXIT.
Except the word itself appears to be scratched out to some degree — as though it were scrubbed out in a fit of desperation but remained no less.
When you see the door, you might be overcome with excitement. Or perhaps not. Regardless of what your reaction is like, the lights around you will dim and flicker at an alarming frequency. For a moment, it’s almost as though the gravity around you has slowed, and the hallways are becoming narrower by the second.. Voices and faces from the past emerge in your mind. You see someone you shouldn’t; they’re calling for you. They’re here with you right now, beckoning you to come closer...
If you reach the door and attempt to open it, it won’t budge. And the further you walk away from it, the more the effects will subside.
But there’s no telling if you’ll sleep well tonight.  INVESTIGATIONSThe ship is fitted to house approximately 500 people — it’s a bit of a ghost town, however, lived in but abandoned no less.
The chairs are in the mess hall aren’t aligned perfectly. The tables are a bit crooked. The lounge is lofty, but not pristine. The rooms may be barren, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that they were somehow someone else’s before they became yours. There’s an array of locked doors, varying in sizes and shapes, all of which withhold something potentially useful to you. You may be inclined to visit the lounge, the mess hall, rifle through the bedrooms . . . the ship is yours to explore.
However, how you interact with the ship is….entirely up to you. There is something to be found everywhere. Regardless of what you do, where you investigate and how, you might be tempted to look behind your shoulder.
After all, every decision you make matters...right?
(Every Player’s investigation prompt has the potential to differ greatly as your investigation will require mod input. We encourage you to ask as many questions as you would like, we are here to help and provide you with the information necessary.) Additionally, please feel free to write up and work with your own prompts! These areas of the world are presented as jumping off points for your characters, not limitations. The idea of this world- as with all the others- is to explore -- you may use as much leeway as you want in order to come up with what your character will do. If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask them back on the various threads back in the OOC post from before! |
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acatalepsy_logs2019-02-12 12:27 pm
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He doesn't know if the shaky hands, pounding head, and rolling stomach would translate - probably not - but the frustrated misery, the twitching need to do something, anything, that might. He hopes it doesn't turn on at all and he just comes off looking like a clumsy asshole for no reason. The first time the whole stupid power thing ever happened was with a robot and he doesn't know this guy at all but the memory of that other time, how bad it'd gone, makes Hank scramble to put some distance between them. It might work, it might not, Hank might not be too coordinated with the floor covered in water, too - but he's trying anyway.]
Fuck, uh- thanks. Sorry. Sorry. You good to get up there? It's kinda... slippery. You know.
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He's surprised by it, not knowing if his own protective urges and restlessness is going back the other way or not, and is very quick to let go and jerk back as Hank does. It takes him a moment to respond, as he can't help giving Hank a suspicious look for a few seconds, but he finally gets himself to say something. ]
... Yeah. I got it. ... Stand back.
[ Awkward. Could absolutely be worse, but. Awkward.
Time to get up on this chair, reactivate the sword, and press it up against the sprinkler! It'll take a while, especially with the water hissing and splashing all over the place, but he'll keep at it anyway. Best to do something to keep himself preoccupied, especially after that little accident. ]
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Hank moves back to the wall and leans against it, wrapping an arm over his middle with a little grimace.]
Did you, um.
[He doesn't know if he can get the whole question out. 'Did you feel anything weird' means he might have to talk about it, might have to explain.]
You okay? After I, you know.
[There. That way Hank could be talking about telepathy BS or he could just be talking about falling on him, and Hank doesn't have to be the one to take that question anywhere he doesn't want it to go.]
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I'm fine.
[ Should he even mention that whole bit that felt like a push of emotions getting sent his way? Probably not, given the reaction earlier, but he's going to anyway. ]
... It's not the first time I've had someone do that to me. Only the shortest.
[ Something Zero's grateful for. Could've been tons worse, given what an emotionally constipated wreck Zero is - Hank just caught him at a good time. Though Zero is well aware how awful he can get, and will sure as hell be avoiding physical contact with Hank if he can manage to. ]
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The shortest what? You mean the whole- [He twiddles his fingers next to his head, raising his eyebrows.] Was that, uh. Here? Or...
[He tries to keep the hope out of his voice there, and doesn't totally manage it. It's not that he wants anyone else here to be dealing with the same shit he is, but if someone already was, it'd be... nice.]
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Hell with it - sealing up this sprinkler was going to take a while and this'll pass the time. It sounds like this is probably one of the few people in this place aside from his own fiancee who'd possibly understand to some degree what it was like living in that other world for the past three years or so. Or what dealing with that direct connection that couldn't be turned off or really controlled was like.
Another quick glance, then he gets on with it. ]
Not here, no. ... The other world I came from was full of experiences like that. If it wasn't being sent to someone through mental communication, then it was the environment itself changing around you to reflect how you felt.
[ He's trying not to sound like a grouchy old man about it, despite looking barely 20 if you squint, but it's slipping out anyway. ]
... I also had a direct connection with someone else for nearly a year. Whatever you did felt more similar to that than the other world did.
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[Hank makes a face. If the guy did let himself sound full-on grouchy old man about that, Hank would get it. Grouchy old man is a language Hank's been fluent in for years, and if there ever was a call to use it it'd be for something like this.]
Should I- I should apologize, shouldn't I. That sounds like something you wouldn't wanna be reminded of. Especially for- um, I don't know how it is where you're from but in my, uh- in my whatever, androids don't really do that well with the whole emotion thing.
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[ Well, that makes that easier on him on some levels. Although-- ]
Don't worry about it. I can handle myself just fine ... Reploids like me were made to be as similar to humans as possible, emotions included. [ ... ] I haven't been away from that other place for long, anyway ...
[ Brand new over here. He moves his blade away from the sprinkler for a moment to check it's progress. It's looking about halfway done, more or less, so after a quick moment to check it, he puts the sword back against up it. ]
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[He thinks about his next question for a second, then he asks it anyway.]
So, what's the point of making a machine if it's got human emotions? I thought that was the whole... selling point, or whatever.
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[ Because Zero is, of course, being a box of relatability right now. But hey, there's still time to pass before he's done here. He pauses, then decides to give a little more information than what amounts to a verbal shrug. ]
... The first reploid was dug up somewhere, a long time ago. All other reploids were based off of him in one way or another, and he had emotions similar to a human's from the start. ... Maybe moreso than the rest of us.
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[He takes a slow breath, clears his throat, wraps his arms around himself. The conversation's good, distracting, but he feels like shit and now that he doesn't have some stupid shit to do like stand on a chair in constantly pouring water he kind of just wants to sit down. And, hell, no part of him's dry anyway so he goes for it, sliding down the wall and sitting in the water pooling on the floor. It means he has to crane his neck to look at the guy but that's fine, at least if he gets a crick in his neck that'll at least be a new bad sensation to focus on.]
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[ He says it like it's the most obvious thing. Like there's underground labs everywhere, and that of course one of them would house a super advanced android with human-like emotions in it. ]
I don't know the details ... Only that it happened.
[ With that, he takes another glance at Hank, having heard him moving around a little earlier. ... Hmm. Zero doesn't know a ton about humans, and has the social awareness of a partially sentient brick most times, but this guy doesn't seem to be doing so great. Might as well give an update on how this whole sprinkler situation is going, even if the lower amount of water coming down is probably enough of a hint. ]
... I'm almost done here.
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[He says it unthinkingly, casually, following the urge to bitch about anything he can because it helps, sometimes, in some minuscule but measurable amount.]
But uh. Thanks. I probably woulda brained myself a few times over if you hadn't stepped in with your little... whatever the hell you call that thing.
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[ Not even remotely can he disagree with that, even if his own circumstances are different. There were a lot of things wrong with how reploids came to be and a lot of extreme problems caused because of it, but he's staying away from that tangent unless prompted. ]
And there's no need to thank me ... Thank your dog. I might've missed you, otherwise.
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[He looks back at the doorway, where Sumo's still standing, looking in, shifting around like he wants to step inside but not actually doing it.]
Why's that? I guess I uh, wasn't paying attention to what he was doing.
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[ He can't imagine why else a dog would be acting nervous like that, though he does indeed barely know anything about non-robotic animals. ]
... Anyway, I wouldn't have gone down this way if he wasn't there.
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[If there was anything wrong with what he was doing, even before he lost his balance, he's not about to admit it.]
Well, Sumo's kind of a uh- a weenie sometimes but. Thanks anyway.