hyperlog | intro:log

INTROLOG_01
DAY ONE \| THE ARRIVAL. OPTION A \| STARTING FRESH. You wake up, wet and bruised, in the water. You don't recall falling, but you recall a flash of bright light, and the next thing you know you're washing up on the shoreline. You can see two moons and a planet or two in the sky. It's a surprising sight; just as surprising is the fact that you're not alone. Abovehead is a slash of oscillating lights that flash painfully bright from moment to moment - and you get to witness a silhouette or two getting spit out of the lights, falling into the waters with a loud splash. No one is hauling you off your feet, but you do see a small crowd of teenagers forming around you, looking at you warily as they hold out makeshift weapons. When they realize you're awake, they start calling for someone called Navigator - and one such person appears, gives you a cursory check-up before healing what wounds you may have. In a terse voice, they tell you: "You are currently in Caius Allied Territory. Welcome to Alexandrina." After that, they shove a dry towel at you and point you in the direction of the others who've washed up on the shore; shower tents have been set up while shuttles idle nearby, waiting for you to board. It's not the warmest welcome, but it's something. You're now in Alexandrina, and we hope you enjoy your stay. OPTION B \| TEST DRIVE AS CANON. You wake up to the sound of the sea crashing gently on the shore - and the odd yell or two as people fall from the sky. Up you get, the man knocking on your door shouts out. Time to get the new kids out of the water. They give you towels and med kits to take along with you, before leading you own to the beach where figures fall into the water — and you see with your own eyes how the figures' descent slows for a heartbeat, just before hitting the water, almost as if gravity itself is rejecting them. Curious, isn't it? Better get to work though, before the children start poking holes on the ones that have already washed up to shore. DAY TWO (A) \| IT'S RAINING... CRYSTALS? It starts with a few droplets, and then it's suddenly pouring in sheets. The rain is fairly pedestrian at first, just plain water soaking into everything, but then it starts to get a little warmer, warmer still... and then it's raining crystals along with the water. Crystals in many colors, glittering and glimmering as they fall from the sky. The locals have baskets set out to catch the downpour, and some of them are inviting you to do the same, because the rain doesn't seem like it'll last for very long. These crystals are used by the locals as portable fuel. Go ahead and collect some loot; these crystals may come in really handy soon... DAY TWO (B) \| BLAST FROM THE PAST. ...And by soon we mean really soon. The 409 is a mishmash of technology. Some of the tech, like the hoverbikes and the medical kits, indicate to a far more advanced level of research and tech development. On the other hand, there are twenty-first century cars with wheels, and antiquated communication tools. What's up with that? Poverty. That's what's up. Dark economic humor aside, the reason behind the 409's prevalent low fidelity technology really is a matter of a lack of resources - Hypatia Holdings only funds its rescue fleet and its health care, but little else. Most of the development in the area has gone to setting up defenses against the rift. The inter-settlement commerce is thriving, certainly, but there's only so much of the more up-to-date resources to go around and importing from Pycchis tend to cost an arm and a leg. Hence: the wheeled cars and jet-propelled bikes, among the many anachronistic things that are still up and running in the 409. The locals still use the vehicles to get around, but a good number of them are in great need of repair. They're offering the new arrivals personal items to trade for fixing the vehicles. Do you want some star-shaped fruit? A hand-sewn shirt or two? Maybe you want a helmet, or a pair of boots. The locals are open to trading if you'll help them fix their meager vehicles. You could even use those collected crystals from earlier to power up the vehicles, take them around for a test drive. Do a good deed today, and earn yourself a good dinner. DAY THREE \| SAY GOODBYE TO THE 409. The settlement is in a mess. The 409 is a bustling little settlement - there's a flourishing market, a healthy community, and a fairly peaceful relationship with the Satellite Embassy and the Caians who live there. Generally speaking, the 409 is a good place to live in Alexandrina. Tonight is an exception, however, because sometime during lights out someone - a bunch of someones - start blasting holes through the thin walls of the local cottages. The small crowd moves through the settlement fast; by the time the settlers are up and about to check the noise and the damage, the perpetrators have moved on. Walls are blasted through, and the ones left undamaged are vandalized with glowing tags in rude Caian slang. On some walls, MIND YOUR OWN is written over and over, in large block letters. Stalls and their wares have been upended and strewn across the streets. Children are woken up, crying, and the elders get to the business of cleaning up with a resigned attitude. The message is clear: the Terrans aren't welcome. What kind of life do these people lead in this place? You don't get to ask your questions just yet. According to the Head Navigator, everyone's to move north, and everyone's got a few days to salvage what they can from the mess. Easier to leave for somewhere quieter than to rebuild where their efforts will be torn back down again, they say. Looks like you've got a lot of lifting to do. OPTION A \| GET GOSSIPY. While helping the settlers get their affairs in order, you ask around about the general climate of the settlements. Does this kind of attack happen often? Do people get harassed like this outside of the settlements? You get a feel for how these people live, and it doesn't paint a nice picture. OPTION B \| INVESTIGATE THE MESS. You ask around - but not about what's happening. Did the locals see who was responsible? Did they hear anything before the walls were punched through? You're a nosybody and it makes the settlers a little uncomfortable, but they're not shying away from the questions either. OOC NOTES. Welcome to the first INTRO LOG of HYPERJUMP! This log contains clues towards the upcoming STORY QUEST this September, so please don't hesitate to ask us any questions here related to the log! ♥

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I. DAY ONE, OPTION B

[ So, it wasn't a dream. Or a fever haze, or any number of odd, bright, and intricate death hallucinations he'd read about in text books when he was eighteen and learning about the killing business. All things come full circle, huh? It punctures his cavalier demeanor, to feel himself breathing. To wake up to real memories, a bruised cheek, the pounding fist on his door and a pounding in his head -

...yeah, he might be slightly hung over. Turns out, trying to drink yourself (back) to death doesn't yield great results. But he's up, he's up, pulled from he place he slept and down towards the beach. There are already a number of locals gathered about, hollering, and then come the ungentle plinks of people hitting the water. ]

Great.

[ Well, better make himself useful.

To anyone who's having a time in the surf, Shouta will approach, all 6'0" of him, pants rolled up and wild hair all blown about by salt and sun. He offers a hand out. ]

C'mon, up you go. Before something worse comes crashing out of that damn thing.

II. DAY TWO, OPTION A

[ You know, it's not the weirdest thing he's seen here. He did get punched in the face by a willowy, strong-armed alien. But even for him, seeing the far-off glint of crystals hurtling through the sky is worth looking at. At first, he thinks it's something different about the rain, because what does he know about a celestial ecosystem? He'd been standing it in for a while just to let something familiar wash over him until he'd caught sight of the glimmering.

And so, with his face still upturned, Shouta gets whacked straight in the nose with a crystal drop. ]

Ouch! What the hell...!

[ That's enough for him to duck under one of the cottage awnings (who's? yours?) for cover, rubbing his reddening face and looking mighty offended.

Just, don't say it. ]

III. DAY TWO, OPTION B

Okay, I get it already, alright? Just back off a second!

[ This isn't the first time that the 409 has seemed really rudimentary to him. What with the cobbled together vehicles, rustic living spaces, communal atmosphere. It reminds him of Sector One. It all just happened to be deadass in the middle of space. It's fine, really. What's not fine is a local kid trying to shove some kind of fuzzy fruit in his face for his willingness to take a look at the little engine on a jet-bike. Another woman is literally trying to get a look at a rip in his shirt with him still in it.

Long suffering, Shouta sighs noisily, glancing around for someone sane in this mess to serve as a distraction.

Notably, he's still not backing off the job. Help? ]

IV. DAY THREE, OPTION B

[ No good deed goes unpunished. So the saying goes, and Shouta has seen just which roads good intentions pave. Since getting dumped in Koriba and shuffled out as quickly as possible, as if that was the mistake in all this, he's had a hunch. And boy, when he starts being proven right. It happens so fast that even he doesn't have time to confront the perpetrators. But when the settlers deem it safe to leave, Shouta doesn't bother with asking around just yet. He wants to see for himself, to get a framework for the answers he's looking for.

Like this, he moves with purpose, surveying each vandalized cottage and business. When he comes upon a cluster of writings, a frown sets deep on his expression. With a bare hand, not bothering with his gloves, he reaches to touch the lettering, but then jerks back as if burned by it.

But it wasn't his hand.

A spark flares behind his right eye as if ignited, making his expression flinch. Shaking his head, he presses his heel against it, looking like he might be sick right there in the open. ]

[ It's been... a long few days. Probably longer than it feels, or maybe shorter. He's not entirely certain anymore.

Headaches have been common here, he thinks. This whole thing is a headache. Still, he hasn't seen anyone visibly sickened in this way from being confused and agitated, so he stops and tilts his head, looking at him sideways. ]

Are you alright?

[ Funny, he feels sort of sideways. Shouta notes another presence and boy is he lucky enough to not be worried about getting murdered in an alleyway, because he blurts out: ]

Yeah, fine.

[ Just — having a moment with the wall here. ]

Our new home away from home could look a little better though.

[ He probably doesn't sound as cavalier as he's going for, but it's helping him not hurl, so there's that. ]

[ It's fine. Being friends with a wall isn't something he'll judge him for... ]

Mm. Have you seen anything like this before?

[ It's familiar, distantly. Nothing quite like arriving in a completely alien universe, but some things are always the same. ]

[ Exhaling, long and steady, Shouta forces the unease down so he can focus. There's a pinch at the corners of his eyes as they readjust, traversing the lettering. ]

Like any other crime scene. [ A tension and an ease both play in his voice. He finally casts a look over. ] And you?

intro:log_01.

shouta mikoshiba | dolls | ota

iv.

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RIP WORK MURDERED ME IN COLD BLOOD THIS WEEK

i understand this too well...