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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I am not so certain. [She's so far been a survivor of a Blight; she knows the scent of decomposition well, and of corruption. Yet she can't quite put a claw on why that is the first thing to come to mind.]
It almost smells of home. [Which is not a good thing, by the slight growl.]
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[But he agrees. There's something wrong about it, but they'll figure that out when they find it. Barabas tests the air before lifting a wickedly clawed finger to gesture.] This way?
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[Humor. May as well jest while they follow the very odd plant scent. She nods once, in agreement before taking off in the direction they both can smell it coming from.]
Can't quite put a finger on why it is so familiar.
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[He acknowledges with an eerie laugh in the hyena's genuinely upsetting giggle. Don't mind him. He falls into step with her, covering ground fast considering his height and speed at the moment.]
And I can't put a finger on why it smells off. But I'd like to find out.
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As do I.
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[Barabas quickens his pace. Stronger this way he thinks. Maybe. A glance over at Morrigan.]
So this is my first spaceship.
[Conversation as they chatter.]
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[Three guesses as to whose, and the first two do not count. She pauses for a second, sampling the air before moving to catch up and keep pace.]
But it is my first as well. There is nothing like this where I am from. [Obviously.]
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[He made the guess! But Shiro is one of the few space-types that Barabas knows.]
Humans had made it off our planet and to the moon, where I'm from. But that was before magic swept back into the world and tore a great deal of technology apart in the process. These days, if you don't have wings, you keep your feet on the ground for the most part.
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No one needs to see that.]
If we ever got that close, the how of it has been lost for some time. We were made all the lesser when the elven empire fell. [...She's actually very sad about that, and it shows in her tone. Huh.]
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[The new normal of his world.]
Your world sounds very different from mine. That's interesting. Many people here seem to be from various versions of Earth, from what I can tell.
[But not Morrigan.]
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[If she's honest... it leaves her feeling slightly homesick, craving for some sort of familiarity beyond the forms she takes. Yet she says none of it and keeps pressing on. They're getting close.]
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[Barabas muses, but he trails off as well.
The scent is getting stronger, until suddenly there's really no way to follow it any further given that they're greeted by a closed door.
A low growl.]
Here.
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[That's becoming a lot more common these days and she doesn't like the uncertainty. Please make it stop.
Morrigan comes to a halt at the closed door, pawing at the surface once before shifting back into her human form.]
Can't exactly open it with paws.
[That would be a neat trick, though. And of course it won't budge with her in her human form, either. Sigh.]
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[He does have, well, hands of a sort, after all. The claws will likely help too.
Barabas will put a bit of his own muscle into it, trying to sink those claws into the seam of the door, growling lowly.]
We may need assistance.
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[Oh look, she dropped the "'tis" and "'twas". She's getting serious.] So, will you or shall I?
[How much do you wanna terrify others with your lovely smile, Barabas?]
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[There are worse things anyway.
But well, he considers. There's a little glint in red eyes that betrays a hint of amusement at the thought of wandering off to recruit help in this form. It'll be fun.]
We could both venture out and see who we could find.
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[She just... only gets to be once a week. Sigh. But, there's that glint and she grins back. She knew she liked Barabas for some bizarre reason.]
Indeed. Back here in an hour? [It's not like they'd get lost in how to get back.]
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[He agrees. And heads off to see who he can scare up.
Maybe literally.
He'll try to behave.
But first, he steps forward and with a vicious rake of his claws, scratches at the door. Just marking it to make it easier to direct people to.]