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

[ What. Zero tilts his head and squints, unable to respond right away. He even looks over his shoulder for a moment, as if he can't imagine that question would be directed at him of all people. ]

Cosplay? ... I'm wearing armor.

[ A cropped flak vest, white ~~metal panties~~ hip armor, knee-high metal boots, arm guards, and a helmet. Yep, just ordinary reploid armor. Nothing odd here. ]

You're wearing anime.

[He looks at the chair, wondering if he's going to need to sit down, if this is going to be a whole conversation. He shifts his weight, experimentally; the chair wobbles.]

What was it you were askin me, again? I don't remember. And I probably wasn't paying attention. Is there something you needed while I was up here or...?

I don't know what that is ...

[ SIGH. Whatever. He's tempted to just walk away after whatever that was, but for all he knows this guy might be losing his mind or something. Time to try again. ]

Anyway, I was asking if you needed any assistance. ... You seemed to be having trouble with that thing.

[ Just a small nod up at the sprinkler. ]

[He gives a brief, breathy laugh.]

I've been having trouble with a lot of fuckin shit lately. But someone needs to do this, right? Everyone's whining about us not having any water but I don't see any of you guys stepping up to try to, I don't know, stop the damn sprinklers.

[Does he need to be this defensive? The jury's still out on that. Maybe he's just sore about getting interrupted with a perfectly reasonable, polite offer of help from someone who could probably get this done about ten times better than he could.]

[ At the very least, Zero's used to humans being irritated at him with little to no provocation involved, though this guy was making a decent point here. ]

I was expecting the humans here to deal with their own problems. ... Guess I shouldn't have. [ Well, aside from this particularly grouchy one. ] If you know how to shut it off, then don't let me stop you.

[ Though he is going to watch, if only so he knows how to do it himself. ... And to make sure this guy doesn't crack his skull open in the process. ]

The 'humans', huh?

[Hank eyes him, not really in the mood for more weird shit, a little curious about what he meant by that and more than a little sure that he doesn't actually want to know. He reaches up toward the sprinkler, his first, optimistic strategy just being 'pull at it and hope it pops off' - potentially really stupid, since that involves kind of hanging off the thing a little bit. He's not really expecting it to just come off anyway, and if he's lucky, it won't. Or maybe it will and he'll fall and knock himself out, that'd also be fine.]

Well that's your first mistake, assuming I know shit. This human hasn't done home repair shit in about a million years. Why don't you talk me through it, smart guy? You look like you know how all that tech shit works.

Hmph. I'm not the only one making mistakes here ...

[ He takes a moment to look up at the sprinkler, then back to Hank with a shrug. ]

I'm built for warfare. Not home repair. ... Unless that thing's got some kind of panel or whatever to operate it, anyway.

[ Not that he knows a damn thing about sprinklers one way or the other, but war machine or not, he does know enough to operate most things. As much as Zero would love to suggest slashing it off, he does know just enough about pipes to realize that would make things about a thousand times worse and mercifully keeps his mechanical mouth shut. But surely between the two of them, it could be figured out ... eventually. Probably. ]

Nah, looks automatic.

[He glances over it one more time, hoping there’s a panel he missed, but - nope. Not unless it’s hidden or something. Then he sighs and rubs hard at his temple. There’s a question he wants to ask and he wants to be an asshole about it - making a stranger feel one hundredth as shitty as he does right now would be great, it’d feel amazing. Except it wouldn’t, because he’s not drunk enough to ignore how weird it feels these days to be an asshole about the whole robot thing, at least to the weird fantasy robots you get here in this weird fantasy place, with their feelings and sense of self and their actual lives. He is, in fact , not drunk at all, let alone enough to be a dick without worrying about it.

He sighs. Shit was a whole lot goddamn simpler in Detroit.]

You don’t have, uh. Some kind of tool or anything though? Like, being ‘built for warfare’, that doesn’t mean you have uh- [One hand lets go of the sprinkler to make a completely unhelpful gesture, and Hank realizes he can’t think of a single better way to say what he’s thinking about.] -go go gadget fingers or... I don’t know, something? Cause if you’re gonna stand down there sayin I’m making mistakes you might as well make yourself helpful, you know?

[ That was a way to describe ... something, definitely. Zero raises an eyebrow, not that that can be seen through his helmet, then glances down at himself. Well, he DOES have the z-saber at least, even if he's not sure how much use it'll be. ]

Most of my tools are missing.

[ But he'll at least pull out the one thing he does have, from a small white sheath attached to his leg - something that looks like a white handle - holding it out in front of himself and activating it to reveal a bright green plasma blade.

Because of course the anime robot has a lightsaber knockoff. ]

This can cut through most metals ... I suppose it could melt them if it's held against them for long enough, too.

[ He'll finally approach either way, keeping the blade at his side, to get a better look at what kind of mess they're dealing with here. ]

[Hank makes a face, watching the sword and sort of thinking the lightsaber thing, himself. But pointing that out to a guy who, first of all has a weapon out, and second of all's going to try to use it to help, Hank's not going to do that. He brushes his soaked hair back from his face to get a better look at the sword as the guy comes closer.]

If you're going to try and melt it you'd probably better be up here.

[Which means he has to climb down. He makes a face, looking down at the wet chair, the wet floor, the wet everything.]

Right. Uh- right. Okay. Fuck-

[Oops. There it is. Down he goes.]

[ Zero sees that face, but aside from narrowing his eyes a little and frowning, says nothing about it. At least he's not the type to go slicing humans up just 'cause they're rude or whatever, but it's not like this guy knows that. Hell, if it spares him some irritation for a little while, he'll take whatever Hank's reasons are for saying nothing about it.

But since he seems to be getting down, Zero deactivates the blade temporarily in preparation of getting up and--

Oh. ]

Watch it!

[ Zero makes move to try to catch - or at least brace - Hank before he hits the ground. Sure, falling against a titanium robot probably doesn't feel fantastic, but it's likely better than hitting the floor. ]

[It's a second before Hank responds, or does anything but just process the fact that he didn't just go down and split his head open. But once he does he all but scrambles to move back, tripping and stumbling as he does it. Which makes him look like an asshole, but if his power decides to turn on the other guy would probably like that even worse. Telepathy is a hell of a pain when you don't know if it's going to turn on and when, those times it does, all it does is send along emotion, and when it seems an awful lot like the only emotions it ever sends are shitty ones.

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.

[ Now that was ... actually an oddly familiar experience to Zero, brief as it was. Really, having it only go off for a few seconds is nothing - not after some of the experiences he's gone through in the previous world he'd been trapped in, and especially not after another ... heavily unique situation involving being directly connected to someone mentally and emotionally for nearly an entire year. Of all the robots Hank could have that accidentally go off on, he honestly lucked out with this one. ... Though said robot is absolutely not up for a round two, and looks it.

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. ]

[He frowns. That doesn't look like the reaction of a guy who's confused about why Hank doesn't want to touch him. He doesn't look offended either, which would have been... fine. Explicable. Hank tries to think back to figure out if he picked anything up from the guy - he can do that now, apparently, because as much as he'd like to tell himself that one time was a fluke he can't. But the need to stop it'd been more important than paying attention, and if he's honest with himself doesn't even pay much attention to his own shit half the time. If the guy's reaction was close enough to what Hank was already feeling it might've just blended in.

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.]

[ His eyes glance over at Hank for a moment, then back to what he's doing. ]

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. ]

[Hank frowns. Now he's actually going to have to outright bring it up himself, because that - damn it, he actually wants to hear about that. He could get away with not talking about it at all if he could only be okay feeling like the only person who's ever had to deal with this bullshit, but he's not, so he has to know. Damn it.]

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.]

[ Well. That was one way to describe that whole thing. Probably the least awkward way, though. Zero goes quiet, not wanting to get too deep into it but also not missing what he could've sworn was a somewhat hopeful tone. Well, as long as he didn't get into anything he didn't care to talk about, it'd be fine, right?

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.

Eugh.

[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.

You know about androids, huh? I see ...

[ 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. ]

Well yeah, I know about androids. Even before they were actually a real thing, everyone where I come from knew what they were. 'Reploid' is a new one one me, though.

[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.

Who knows ... To make us more relatable, or easier to work with, maybe.

[ 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.

Wait, dug up? What the fuck is that, like, you dug him out of Pompeii or some shit? How the hell does that work?

[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.]

Hmph ... An underground lab.

[ 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.

That still means the guys who made you copied a robot they know squat about, right? Smart move there.

[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.

... I can't disagree.

[ 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.

welcome to the horologium.

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