acatalepsy_logs | welcome to the horologium.

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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

[Waking Up | Northeast]

[The pod opens, and Firo comes up swinging. The lull in between waking and the release of the pod gave him time to 1. grab his knife in his right hand and 2. decide that anyone hanging around while he can’t see is bad news. So up he pops like a vengeful jack in the box, sliding out of the pod and throwing out his left arm to try and closeline anyone who might be standing near the pod.

(Incidentally, in his single-minded focus, he’s definitely going to step right in that pink goo.)

If you’re close by, you may want to watch out. If you’re not, enjoy him looking like a loon.

Welcome to the new world!]

[Kitchen]

[Figuring that they’re in for the long haul, the kitchen and mess hall is one of Firo’s first stops. He scans the area to get a general idea of the supplies, finally coming across some of the un-reconstituted goo food. It’s not the form of the food that troubles him so much as the quantity—who knows how long they’ll be here.]

We’re not gonna starve immediately, but this doesn’t look great.

[And then there’s the water…]

[Exit Door]

[Exit, huh? No way Firo’s not checking that out. He slows as the lights flicker, then braces one arm against the wall. The hallways that he hadn’t minded a moment ago suddenly feel like they’re caving in—and then there’s a voice. Ennis? But she shouldn’t be here and—

He stops short of the door and whirls around—]

Who’s there?

[Is someone there? Maybe you are, but, given the wild look in Firo’s eyes, you’re probably not who he expected.]

[Wildcard]

[ooc: Feel free to throw something else at me or hit me up to plot something else out!]

I don’t know, Sumo likes it.

[Hank leans in the doorway behind him, having only walked up halfway into Firo’s sentence.]

But yeah, the menu here fuckin sucks. It looks like someone ate a bunch of bubble gum and got a bad case of the shits.

[Thanks, Hank, have a wince of disgust as Firo turns around.] You don't have to be so gross about it...

[Though it's not inaccurate, really. Whatever the opposite of a poet is, Hank is that.]

It looks like the stuff they gave us on Struxta, but I don't think the people back there ever got close to running out. If we're here as long as we normally are, there's gonna be trouble.

[People, robots, same difference. It's beside his point, anyway.]

[Hank wraps his arms around his chest, tucking his hands under his elbows.]

If this is the shit they gave you back then I don't know how you didn't starve. The smell of this stuff's already starting to make me sick.

[He sighs. Down to business - even if that business sucks. But it's good to bounce his own thoughts off someone who's apparently thinking in the same direction.]

How long, do you think? About how many people do we have here?

[Firo leans back on the counter.]

I dunno, but it's gotta be more than 50. I couldn't tell you how long this all is gonna last. Plus, once people get nervous, they'll probably start snatching it up, so once it starts to go, it's gonna go fast.

[Hell, it's what the old him probably would've done--grab what you can and then steal from people as it all goes to hell.]

Yeah.

[Hank sighs, staring into the distance. Staying still is a losing game right now, though; he pushes off from the doorway and walks in a little circle, rubbing his hands over his face. He doesn't try to argue with Firo; he's seen it happen before. That's how people are.]

Maybe there's some kind of- I don't know, storage somewhere. This place is huge. [He gestures to the mess hall.] This room's bigger than my whole fuckin house. There must of been tons of people on this ship and, I don't know shit about space food, maybe there really is enough room in that kitchen to keep enough to feed everyone, but- I don't know. There's got to be something else somewhere.

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exit door

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