acatalepsy_logs | welcome to the horologium.

Entry tags:

welcome to the horologium.

I ▫ main	IV ▫ premise			XI ▫ applications	XIV ▫ activity
II ▫ logs	V ▫ rules	VII ▫ bestiary	IX ▫ canon updates	XII ▫ taken	XV ▫ drop/hiatus
III ▫ ooc	VI ▫ faq	VIII ▫ setting	X ▫ mods	XIII ▫ reserves	XVI ▫ players

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.

INVESTIGATIONS

The 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Sheryl follows the direction he'd pointed, and sees the very prominent dent in the metal door.

She looks back at the young man and frowns.] You... made that dent? [Come to think of it, the memory she'd experienced of his-- he'd had some sort of crazy super strength, right? Maybe it's not that outlandish after all.]

These look like reinforced bulkhead doors. I'm surprised you were able to do that much. But I don't think you can really brute force them open, no matter how strong you are.

I did.

I'm sure if I manage to land a few more blows like that I could maybe break a hole in it. It has to cave eventually. It'll just take time.

[He looks incredibly determined about this. It's clear from the look on his face that changing his mind would be a task as harder, or harder, than busting open that door.]

Are you nuts? [Sheryl puts her hands on her hips.] You're talking about what, punching a metal door? On a ship like these, they're designed to keep vacuum out-- they're really tough!

You might as well bash your head against it.

[Sheryl sighs. Men.] Boys really do think they can brute force everything, don't they?

...Wait? This can't be an exterior door, right?

[S-sweating. And not because he just threw up but because now he's imaging busting open a door to space and then... what happens then? Bad things probably.

And then he frowns, looking a little indignant.]

I tried other methods! Nothing else seemed to work. Believe me, I've been trying to think of anything else I could do and only used this as a last resort.

Probably not. If it were an airlock, they'd be crazy to not label it. [And thus far, she hasn't seen anything that illogical yet.

And hopefully she won't.] But doors like this, on a ship like this, are typically airtight just in case there's a hull breach somewhere. It means that you only ever lose air from the place it was damaged.

[Sheryl reaches up to pluck a hairpin from above her ear.] Do you mind if I try something before you get back to punching solid steel?

I don't think I've got it in me to punch any steel. Not for another eight hours at least. So whatever we can do in the meantime is something done.

[He groans a little, clutching his stomach, and leans against the wall before sinking down to the floor. He mulls over what she said and he can understand it on principle but...]

You've been to space before, haven't you?

I grew up in space. Being at the Circle is the first time I've ever been on a planet more than a week or so. [She says, as she takes the hairpin and unbends it, straightening it out. She brings it to her mouth, pulling the little rubber cap off with her teeth and putting it in her pocket.

She starts fashioning it into a lockpick, bending it in a way that'll give her leverage; she takes her other hairpin and begins turning it into a lever. Her hair falls a little further down her shoulders.] There's still power in this area, so the doors aren't going to be magnetically sealed, I don't think. You always want a backup system to open or close them.

What? No way? Do you live in a ship like this? What do you eat? How do they make the grav-

[Hrk. Okay, he's gotta take it easy. He slumps back against the wall and swallows a few times.]

So... that means we can get it open, right? But that we also have to keep the power on?

[She glances over at him, even as she finishes with her impromptu lockpicks.] You're a real motormouth sometimes, huh?

[Again, there's no judgment in it, it's just a remark. This kid's brain can go a mile in half a minute, huh.

She thinks "kid," but he's barely a year or two younger than her, probably. Sheryl kneels in front of the door and starts examining the lock.] Exactly. If we cut the power, the systems will think that there's been a malfunction and will seal shut. But you also want a mundane lock, just in case--

[And sure enough, there's an old-fashioned keyhole.] --and some things never go out of style.

Anyway, the ship I grew on was way bigger than this. [She pauses, as she inserts the bent lever into the keyhole.] I mean, probably. We don't know how big this one is. But it feels way more cramped than a Macross-class.

...Sorry! I do that sometimes...

[He turns red and claps a hand over his mouth. He's really doing his best to reign his weirdness around everyone but it still always seems to pop out anyway. He watches her with wide eyes as she pulls out the hairpin.]

Ah, picking the lock! I tried that but I wasn't good at it. I guess brute strength is more my style.

[Then he leans forward, for a moment his nausea forgotten, as he picks up on what she means.]

So... there's all sorts of different kinds of ships where you're from? If you said "class" there must be multiple classes and multiple kinds. ...Incredible. How many... how many are there?

Not everyone can do this. I just learned how, when I was younger. [Which is all she'll volunteer about it.

It's a little endearing, how chatty he is. Or at least, it would be endearing, if she weren't trying to concentrate. As it is, Sheryl tries to just focus on picking out the various tumblers.] How many kinds of ships are there? I dunno-- lots. Even in a Macross fleet alone, you've got the main island and battle ship, all the other island ships, the escort cruisers, the VFs, transports...

They're giant traveling cities, you know? It's a complicated-- there we go. [She says, as one of the pins snaps up.]

Even on a ship this complex, they still use pin and tumbler locks.

Giant traveling cities... Battleships...

Woah.

[What else is there to say. He's actually quiet for a few seconds as he leans back trying imagine what an island flying through space would look like. Something even more amazing than I-Island.

Then when she breaks a pin, he looks up and leaps to his feet.]

Did you get it open? Or weaken it? How close are we-

[His stomach lurches and he claps a hand to his mouth, inching a little closer back to towards the trashcan.]

[Gross, dude. She heard that noise you just made.

She's going to not mention it, though.] No, I just got the first pin to stick. There's a few more. It'll take me a few more seconds.

Anyway, that's just what's in your typical Macross fleet. The main island is what, fifteen kilometers long? The whole fleet's probably closer to thirty or forty if you measure it from the first ship to the last.

And I'm sure every planet has its own type of ships, too, that don't make it out to us on the frontier.

[She smiles to herself at the wordplay, even if he's not going to get it-- or even notice it.]

[Bless her heart.

He manages to swallow and not start hurling again. Once he's sure his stomach is settling, he drops down next to her and starts obsessing over what she's saying, trying to imagine it in his head.]

Only fifteen kilometers? That's about the size of a few wards in Tokyo. Much smaller than Musutafu. But if that's the main ship, can people travel between ships? Like on a space train or something like that?

One second-- [She says, biting her lip for a moment and waving him off as she works, feeling the tension and trying to jimmy the pin up] --there. Got another one.

Anyway, if you're talking about travel between the different islands in a fleet, sure. Most people live on the main island, but that's where they grow most of the food, or you've got special environments, that kind of thing. There's no train between them, but each of the islands has a monorail to get around once you're on it.

[Sheryl sticks her tongue out a little as she works. Honestly, it's just making her nostalgic, talking about home.] If you're going to travel between fleets, you can take a ship with a Fold drive. But that's more of a journey. Most people don't do that.

Man, that must be so many people in such a small space. Even more confined than mostly densely populated part of Tokyo...

But if you aren't on the same fleet as someone else, you'd probably never meet, right? It's not like traveling to another country or something like that.

[He leans forward, chin propped up on his hand, thinking.]

Do you ever feel trapped?

It's somewhere around... six or seven million on the Frontier, I think. But it honestly doesn't feel that crowded; there are plenty of parks, a lake, a simulated sky-- everything someone needs to live for decades and not miss a thing. Even if you don't get a chance to travel to another fleet.

[She lets go of the pick for a moment to ball her hand into a fist and flex her fingers out, forestalling any cramps.]

I was always fine with it. But my-- a friend of mine hated it. He couldn't stand the thought of flying underneath a ceiling.

[Her voice turns fond.

She misses Alto.]

Mmm. I guess we're all different in the things that bother us.

[He can hear that fondness in her voice. It makes him think of Kacchan and so the last few words wobble a bit. He sniffles a little and rubs at his face.

He's fine. Just tired.]

Like, if I had to travel by spaceship... I dunno, I get carsick so it sounds sort of unpleasant.

[Sheryl takes a breath, and then goes back to working on the last few pins.

The soft sniffles don't go without notice, but she doesn't call attention to them, either. Who's she to blame for someone missing a friend? Or a lover. Or both.] Honestly? As long as you stayed on one of the main islands, you'd probably never notice you were moving. It doesn't feel that different from living on a planet like back at the Circle.

[It's easy for her to say, though. She's never gotten carsick before.

A second or two later, though, and the lock finally clicks.] Oh!

About time. My fingers were starting to hurt.

That's so strange. It seems almost impossible that you could move through space but it feels just like being on a planet even though the ship is the size of a city.

I hope maybe someday, I can see it.

[He yawns and covers his mouth politely. He's starting to doze off a little when she finally makes an exclamation of success. It's open! He leaps quickly to his feet.]

So we can get in now? Umm... I'll go first. Just in case there's anything in there.

You'd understand it if you could see it. [The simulated sky, the forestry, the rivers and lakes... it really was like a planet. At least, the Frontier was. The Galaxy, less so.] It'd be nice if wherever this is now could travel to my home fleet and I could show everyone, but I'm not really counting on that.

[She pulls her hand and the makeshift lockpick back, glancing up at Deku as he gets up.

He's a sweet boy. She really shouldn't tease him.

She also can't help herself.] Oho? So we're the chivalrous type, are we?

[A smile comes on her face as she leans a little closer to him.] Well, I don't mind. I'm not a fighter at all, you know~

I... I just... want you to be safe-! And I have... c-combat experience! So umm, please let me handle this!

[He feels his face heating up like Kacchan just punched him with a flaming fist. He's so red and he knows it. He probably looks like a total nerd right now. Can he just go back to throwing up? That was by far less embarrassing. But here it is, a chance to maybe put some of his hero skills to test.

He swallows and turns away from her and enters into the room. At first he only peers in through the doorway, but it's dark and he can't really see. He steps forward and... knocks something off of a shelf when his shoulder collides with it in the dark. He yelps as it drops on his head and covers him in dust causing him to sneeze loudly.

Glancing down, he notices they're harmless food packets and an empty canteen.]

It's... [achoo!] clear.

[He can feel his nose starting to run. Really, not doing well on the "cool hero" thing today.]

I know, I know! You were very impressive in that memory of yours, after all~ [Sheryl says cheerfully, and her sing-song tone has a weird way of sounding like she's teasing him but also sounding completely genuine in her praise for his combat capabilities.

His red face is reward enough, honestly. She feels a little bad. A little.

He's cute, and she can't help but fall into that mindset of teasing someone so very genuine.

The sound of collisions, Deku yelping, and something falling is a little worrisome, though it's mollified somewhat by the sound of him sneezing. Dust and a flour-like substance waft into the hallway, and Sheryl lifts her blouse over her mouth and nose to keep from sneezing herself.

Her hero.] No baddies lurking inside, then?

--are you okay? You didn't get hurt, right?

Just my sinuses. Not the best at combating dust...

[After a final violent sneeze, he straightens up with a loud sniff and wipes his nose on the back of his hand, blinking around blearily. Aside from sneezing hard enough to practically break a rib and being in serious need of a tissue, he's fine.

He sniffles again as he picks up the canteen and packaged food. The canteen is empty.]

This is... it? This is all that was in here?

[The stuffiness in his voice does little to hide his disappointment.]

I guess even superheroes can have allergies, huh? [It hadn't ever occurred to her-- not that superheroes being a real thing had in general, but still-- but it makes sense.

She's going to wait for the dust to clear before she enters, letting her blouse drop back down.] I'm not sure. It'd be weird to have a room just to have something like that in there, don't you think?

Let's look around for some cabinets or other places they could've put things. You go high, I'll go low? [He's a little taller than her, after all. Not much, but enough.

She's already crouching, looking at the walls, touching them to see if there's a catch she can't see in the dim light.]

welcome to the horologium.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)