❪ test drive #4 ❫

[natha]

YOUR STORY BEGINS     The Storm came. You only remember darkness, but you don't remember much after that. All you know, perhaps, is that it was cold. You don't know for how long you slept, but the dreams were short, at least. You remember the expanse of stars and the universe that came in view. Every world and solar system ever known was displayed in your dreams in careful, pristine detail. You have also witnessed The Storm, which has devoured a fair portion of these galaxies. It was a dark, thick smog — ominous in appearance and ever foreboding. Your Earth and similar planets were immersed in The Storm. Somehow, you knew it would be the last you'd see of it. That was when she told you what happened, and how you could help. You knew that you'd be living somewhere new, even though you never asked for it. The details here weren't clear, but you knew you'd made a deal with Darma. Not long after, you'll wake at Thesa Station — your body is still cold. It all felt like a dream, but somehow, you knew it wasn't — now, will you keep that promise you made to Darma? PROMPT: THE STORM     CW: death You were awake on Thesa Station. But at some point you, like many other new arrivals before you, wandered into the Observation Deck. Ordinarily, this is where images of The Storm are replayed to remind Refugees of the fate they have escaped. The Natha Orbiters' technology has evolved. They are aware of your gaps in memory. You may have doubts of The Storm even existing, or of your world's destruction. Though they do not wish reliving those last moments on anyone, they have created an experience that will do just that. Before entering the Observation Deck, you are warned that what follows will not be for the weak of heart. As soon as you step in, you will find that the walls around you begin to transform and expand. Welcome to the Planet Cespi, in the Circinus Galaxy. Unfortunately, we were not able to save this world from The Storm's Consumption. These are its last memories. You are surrounded by blue, grassy hills as far as the eye can see and a pleasant breeze. The atmosphere is thick with a sickly sweet smell. Before you lays the scene of a quiet village, with its residents going about their everyday lives. You aren't alone, either, with an equally confused stranger (or perhaps you know each other?) surveying the scene. Then the world grows completely silent for a full minute. You and your partner are unable to make a sound, verbal or otherwise. Without warning, a deafening roar fills your ears and forces you to double over in pain. The villagers run out of their homes in a panic, finding themselves in just as much pain and confusion as you do. Where there was no sound before, now there is too much for a normal human body to process. Look up. An expanding mass of energy is swallowing everything you can see. It consumes the earth, the atmosphere, the depths of space — and it is getting closer. Your only hope is to outrun it, if you can. The people in the village certainly try to, racing past you. Their fear is very real. Their bodies are very real. You may be able to run from it for a time, only able to catch glimpses of this dark and sinister force swallowing everything and everyone. The earth rumbles and separates beneath you. Electricity surges through the sky, and then through your very body. You fought hard, but it is impossible to outrun the Storm forever. You too will be consumed. Your death is quick, but not painless. What were you thinking, before you took your last breath? You awaken back in the Observation Deck, next to your new friend. PROMPT: TRAINING MODULES     While it’s all nice and well to familiarize oneself with Thesa Station, it is most advised that new arrivals venture out a bit. Not physically. No one is quite prepared for that yet. However, there will be several virtual reality training programs set for those who dare to be adventurous. For those who aren’t and don’t dare, well — good luck, all the same. Once seated and appropriately strapped in, the system will automatically whir to life. 1. When you enter the Natha's newest program, at first nothing loads. You might think this is an error as you look around in apparent total darkness, only able to see your own virtual body if you look down, but soon enough a voice comes to life as if speakers have turned on somewhere. Long ago, the lands of El Nysa were dominated by the ancestors of the dragons who now live among the people, tamed. It was pretty dangerous! How about a little history lesson? And then the simulation comes to life— a. The lush lands that blossom to life around you all at once are real enough to make you forget you're in a simulation — at least for a moment. Those refugees who have been to the planet in reality before will find themselves in territory as unfamiliar as those who are brand new, as this simulation takes place far back in history. Instead of sprawling cities and civilizations, the most you'll find is scattered villages, many of them no more than nomadic campsites at best. You've been outfitted to blend in with the natives and these simulated people won't react to you as a newcomer, but as a member of their village. Are you a doctor, or perhaps a warrior? Maybe you're even in charge! But they want your help, and they want it quickly: a dragon is coming. The dragon is larger than the mount-sized breeds that exist on El Nysa today — much larger. It's a good six stories in height, bestial, and angry. Maybe it's then that you notice the lands that surround you are littered with scars of scorched earth, some of them several yards across, and there's a reason these people don't live in one place for very long. But don't linger too long on the makeshift grave markers sticking out of the burnt countryside — the dragon is coming. b. If you're looking for something a little less violent, perhaps another area of the historic simulation will be up your alley. This one finds you on a cliffside, waiting among other villagers for an event the people are talking about in hushed whispers, some of which you can identify as prayer. When the white dragon raises its head up from the depths of the ravine, towering impossibly high over you and the others on the cliffside, it's no wonder most of the natives fall to their knees in awe and wonder. This dragon doesn't attack, only looks at the people on land with an ancient and strange wisdom. Then it speaks. Not in words, but the low rumbling sound that starts in its throat and becomes a full trumpeting bellow to the sky seems to have meaning, and somehow, you can understand its cry as it entreats the people to praise and worship. The natives around you are already starting to give offerings with their prayers, food and carvings and — blood? Is that someone's arm being offered up? That's different. 2. Let us now travel forward in time, shall we? a. The Olympian settlement around you is quiet — until the screaming starts. Guerilla fighters from Wyver flood the streets, knocking civilians aside and breaking down doors and windows when they find their way barred. They move methodically, advancing toward the nicer parts of town where the politicians reside and leaving terror in their wake. They're here for the politicians, people say. They're here to punish the people who made the decision to advance into Wyver in the first place. Blood for blood, as the saying goes. Where they'll be taking them once they have them is anyone's guess. A soldier emerges from a building, dragging someone in elegant clothing out by the hair. Looks like they've found one. Will you rescue them? Make a run for it yourself, lest you be mistaken for one of their targets? Or maybe they've already caught you and some other unfortunate Refugee who's been dropped into this simulation, and the two of you need to figure out a way to escape. b. CW: branding You find yourself in the midst of a bustling crowd gathered at the Temple of Thesa. Robed acolytes stoke fires on either side of the altar at the front of the temple, where miserable-looking people who seem to be from a village in Wyver await, bound in ropes. The priest, at the front of the crowd, picks up a metal brand from the altar and gestures for another acolyte to bring a prisoner forward. The crowd watches with interest as the prisoner is forced to kneel in front of the altar, their arm laid out flat on the marble surface. Another cry — "For the glory of Olympia!" — and the crest of the city is burned into the prisoner's arm. The crowd cheers, deafening the cries of pain. The priest ushers forward another prisoner, and then another. Is that a familiar face you see in the lineup, thrust into this bit of history by the simulation's whims? You have to do something. Or are you unlucky enough to find yourself bound? ...Well, hopefully someone else in the crowd has more scruples than this priest. 3. And now, the present. After all those enlightening scenes, the simulation finally brings you to a more quiet area of Olympia. You are deposited out somewhere in The Outlook, a place the very first group of refugees had to trudge through before they found their homes. You've arrived in the early evening — but sunlight is waning, and soon you'll be under a sky full of stars. Luckily, their old campsites aren't too overgrown. The intention here is to get you familiar with some of the local flora and fauna. What sorts of plants will you encounter? Do you find yourself under a Verillum Tree, suddenly compelled to be painfully honest and truthful in conversation with a complete stranger? Find yourself behaving erratically in the presence of Whistleweed? Or perhaps you'll have to break the spell of being trapped in a Vena Amoris' vines... with a kiss. PROMPT: STASIS UNIT     You have found the massive section of Thesa known as the Stasis Unit. There’s no special access required to enter this part of Thesa Station, but refugees are warned that it may not be for the faint of heart. Here, in large pods that nearly cover every square inch of the space, are all of the people the Orbiters have managed to rescue. Your loved ones, your greatest enemy, your next door neighbor — you might find them here. These people are in a state of deep cryosleep. Due to the damaging effects of The Storm, their bodies are not yet ready to be awoken. PROMPT: OMAGE     Upon receiving your mobile phone, you will be asked to set a username. Voila, you can now access the network! You can choose to send a message to the entire network, specific usernames, or you can try out the Orbiters’ service, Omage, which connects you to a random user. They thought this might be a good way for their new guests to make friends with each other... Connecting to server... Looking for someone you can chat with... You’re now chatting with [username]... Say hi! PROMPT: WILDCARD     You are welcome to write any scenarios in Thesa Station! Characters have been granted temporary access to the Observation Room, and are encouraged to study it carefully. FINAL OOC NOTE     These threads may be carried over as game canon if players choose! Players are encouraged to submit TDM threads as application samples, but they are not required. Please direct any OOC questions to the questions thread below! An AC-length thread may be submitted for 2 NATHA ORBITER REPUTATION POINTS after acceptance here. Please submit by February 18th. We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for REP. There will be an application cap of 60, and no reserves. Please read here for more information. QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[dendarii]

[ That - hmm. He sees the difference quite clearly. Moreso now that Byerly provides an age. But the fact remains that this is completely goddamn impossible. ]

You could be ill. Or the simulation could have messed you your appearance. I don't know. But you're certainly not thirty-five, Byerly.

[ Could he be? Even now, Miles wavers just a little, uncertain. ]

[adisaster]

Fuhahaha!

[ Gilgamesh obviously isn't disappointed by such a response. In fact he would have been dissatisfied with anything lesser -- certainly from a viewpoint he could understand reluctant necessity, grudging determination ... But what he was looking more for was that enthusiasm, a willingness to tackle seemingly impossible odds.

He hefts his sword, comfortably, his own confidence not seeming to falter. ]

That was precisely the sort of reply I was hoping for.

[vorrutyer]

[ He ignores, having no great hunger to argue. ]

You're, what? Twenty?

2a!

[persistor]

[ One of these days, she's really going to have to stop getting into these situations. Or just learn how to fight so that she can get out of this kind of thing by herself. But as it stands, she'd definitely stuck with her hands tied behind her back, hair messier than it will ever be and her clothes dirtied.

But hey — the sentiment's mutual, at least Red's not alone. Her eyes wander up to her cellmate, wincing eternally at the state the girl's in. Gives herself a moment to settle, before she cants her head to the side and gives a small shrug. She's been better, but it could be worse.

She tips her chin towards Nami, haphazardly making a how about you? motion. ]

[dendarii]

Jim, then. Well met.

[ He offers his own hand to shake in turn. His grip is delicate, his bones inhumanly light. A slight headcock at that pause - a lie? Or just hesitation before telling the truth? He has no way of knowing, other than a mental note that that was kind of weird.

He'll start with the easier questions, anyway. ]

So, what fleet does your ship belong with? Planetary, mercenary?

one day I'll remember to use font faces every tag

[adisaster]

I AM AWARE THAT THE CIRCUMSTANCES HAVE CHANGED. BUT I DO NOT SEE WHY I SHOULD LOWER MY OPINION OF MYSELF AS A RESULT.

[dendarii]

[ Instantly: ]

Eighteen.

[panzersoldat]

[ Reinhardt looks to this gentle girl and for a moment, he berates himself. She's right. He's done the one thing he should have never done. He had lost hope. He had made peace with the fact that his life was the one on the planet. Fighting for the weak and the helpless there because it's all he had left. He had given up on his world and now he feels guilty for having done that. How had such little time made him do such a thing.

She dries his tears and stands. Even sitting, Reinhardt is still taller than her, but at that moment, she seems utterly huge. A vision of hope. White and shining. He can't believe he'd fallen so low seeing her like this. ] No. You're right. There are so many people here. People with such power that even I can't imagine. Perhaps some are sleeping still. Someone who could right this all. Until then though. [ He takes a deep breath and starts the very slow process of getting to his feet. ] We know what to watch for. If the Storm comes this way.

[vorrutyer]

[ Rolling eyes to the sky: ]

Good God.

[dendarii]

[ Enjoy being literally twice Miles' age, Byerly. ]

I'm not the one telling outright lies. Step out of this simulation and show me what you really look like.

no worries

[wallofbriggs]

Just know the rest of us don't give a damn.

[Not that she would have cared in the first place.]

[flashystyle]

[Dorian slows to a stop alongside Vlad, clasping his hands together with a mildly pleased expression across his face. More often than not, the people were hard to make conversation with after they've gotten the you're-not-in-your-world-anymore bomb. It's nice to see he has a grasp on some things already.]

Too long, if we're being quite honest. So long, in fact, that I think our saviors should start paying me to be a tour guide! But let's introduce ourselves, shall we? Dorian Pavus of Thedas, and most recently of Olympia.

[panzersoldat]

[ He just keeps right on laughing, eagerly looking from the much smaller (at least to him) man and the huge dragon and back again. He's utterly raring to go. His own weapon, a massive hammer, rests effortlessly on his shoulder. On his right arm is a strange armored bracer with a lion's face on it. ]

Then, let's do this! I should be able to get us close enough with this. [ The bracer activates and there's his shield, a huge expanse of hard-light. ] It can maybe take a hit or two. If we run quickly, we should be in range for our weapons. [ But also in range of the dragon, which, well, isn't a problem until it becomes one. He's not thinking that far ahead. ]

1B

[ysayle]

[ A hand descends, cool long fingers pressing into his shoulder, as a taller figure steps directly into the space behind him, a hint of silver-grey hair shifting into his peripheral vision. She does not look down at him, no direct address - now is not the time, not when he's called unnecessary attention to himself.

(He is awake. Ah, Estinien. You would be asleep right now when the boy is not, wouldn't you.) ]

You must forgive our younger compatriot. His awe of the Great One has him speaking out of turn, that one would presume to present such an offering, and consider it worthy of Their Glory.

[Her voice carries well, pitched to carry as far as possible; not that a dragon that size needs her to do so, but this is for the People In The Back. At that same moment, her fingers squeeze his shoulder in warning, her own breath held a moment; this may be a simulation, but whatever it is the Orbiters do makes it real enough.

Much like her - after all, who better to intervene for Alphinaud than someone from his past who had such a rapport with white dragons?]

lyse hext | final fantasy xiv

[allamhigo]

( a: the storm )

[ They warned her of what she might see, but nothing can really prepare someone for that. For the silence or the Storm that follows, rolling through like a blight on the land and its people. Lyse is no stranger to war, and certainly knows her way around unnatural diasters, but this is the first time seeing something that would have otherwise been left for the Warrior of Light to contend with.

And she feels helpless as the pain of a world rushing to its end lances through her head. It's all she can do to suck in a defiant and ragged breath, nails digging into earth as she pushes herself up to stand. Never mind that none of this is real; she's managed to forget that important detail the moment this "memory" decided to bowl her over. The only thing that sticks is the need to run. Get up or she's dead.

And she can't die here. Not like this.

Maybe you're a straggler, or somehow managed to get knocked down by the unrelenting wave of people desperate to get away. Whatever the case, there's a strong hand gripping at your elbow, pulling you forward. ]

Keep moving!

[ You're moving one way or another, even if she has to physically drag you along with her. ]

( b: history lesson )

[ So. Dragons.

These guys don't have the best reputation where she's from. Some of them have managed to do some good PR work to work on that, but this one doesn't seem like the type who's concerned with his image. Lyse won't be the first one in her circle to say that she fought a dragon and survived, but after being heralded as this tribe's elite warriors, it's probably safe to say she's and whoever she's with are about to join those ranks.

But how is this red-clad "warrior" supposed to fight something like that without a weapon? It is a mystery. ]

I know they think we're heroes and all, but doesn't this seem a little dangerous sending only the two of us out here?

[ She should probably sound scared, right? Then why is she smiling, almost like she might enjoy this. Being cooped up in the station was making her antsy; at least here she could get the blood flowing. ...Although maybe she's been hanging around the Warrior of Light too much, to think that.

...

Nah.

But what's that, a sudden hard downdraft and the sound of something leathery catching in the wind? A shadow overhead? They won't have to wait long to find out, because dropping down from on high is their mark, scattering rocks and debris as it lands, shaking the ground beneath their feet. The dragon has arrived, and there's another sound mingling with the sound of sediments falling back to the earth:

Crack. Crack.

Punching one hand into the other, the blond pugilist smirks, settling into a lowered, guarded stance. ]

Well, I guess that makes this easier, doesn't it?

[ She is beauty, she is grace, she's gonna punch it in the face. ]

( c: innocence lost )

[ They told her about the Storm, showed her the effects, and still nothing makes it truly stick like seeing your loved ones suspended in a death-like sleep. She doesn't understand what powers are at work to make a place like this function, all of it is beyond her. But there is one thing that she does understand:

They survived. Somehow, all of them managed to make it through the Storm, and everything else that had been thrown at them. That should be enough for her, and it is... for the most part. But as Lyse walks through rows and rows of stasis pods, lingering only long enough to say a few quiet words. But it's not the ones who she expects to find that hit as hard.

It's the one she didn't expect that does. ]

But Papalymo, I... I don't understand.

[ And there she stands, at the end of a long row of nondescript stasis pods, frozen there, her face even paler in the harsh, sterile light. This can't be right, she saw him die; the mark he gave her was gone, so why, how... She doesn't dare touch it, for fear of realizing that all of this is just a dream.

Because why would he be here if it wasn't? ]

( x: wild card )

[ Have an idea for a prompt? Feel free to hmu at impearls! I'm pretty open! c: ]

[willrevile]

What's your name? [ His own grip is pretty average. Dealing with different species means nobody gets the macho human handshake for fear of-- exactly this, delicate bones, which he notes.

Mercenary, huh. Interesting and a little depressing, how many people jump right to 'so, terrible things are normal for humanoids, right?' The rest of these universes are looking pretty bleak, y'all. ]

Starfleet. It's the defacto military and defense force of the United Federation of Planets, but our primary purposes are exploration, peacekeeping, and humanitarian aid.

Re: no worries

[adisaster]

WELL, THAT'S HARDLY AN ISSUE. IGNORANCE IS A COMMON AFFLICTION

[warchetype]

[ nice try, Ocenyan. Hanoi was a stealth mission, remember, no one's bringing an SAA to an undercover fight.

it's irrelevant in the long run.]

Sure. Where are you?

[ because he wants to ask about Mother Base. the last he knew, Paz's blood was saturating his field of view. everything he'd built was crumbling to ashes. ]

Not too enamored with this sort of communication.

[ his functional second-in-command is a real life Soviet spy, of course he's suspicious of everything. ]

[baguablade]

This isn't the True King, is it???

[panzersoldat]

[ Rich Type O gold. She got herself a universal donor! And he does see those fangs. He doesn't think much about it because he knows a couple people with sharp pointy teeth at this point. What he's not expecting is for her to bite him.

He's like biting a very firm steak. Aged to perfection and 100% German. A very surprised steak.]

I...WAS! [ He doesn't shake her off though. He's a little too shocked for that. Honestly, he's actually never met a vampire. ] FRAULEIN!

[riftjob]

Did you drop the thing on your face?

Anyway the world's already been destroyed, what's there to keep you busy.

( angry? bitter? spiteful? absolutely. )

[selfservice]

Yes, of course. [Of course... and he's the worst example, but never mind.] And evidently not in yours, so what was it like?

[dendarii]

[ Ah. Well. Miles' turn for an awkward pause. This may be a dream, but he sure is rather far flung, isn't he? He hasn't quite decided which name would be better to use here. So he tries on one, just to see how it sits. ]

Admiral Miles Naismith, of the Dendarii Free Mercenary Fleet. [ He tips his head at Kirk's description, though. That sounds impressive. And implausible. ] Peacekeeping and exploration, eh. How is that working out for you?

Axel | Kingdom Hurts

[icingonthecake]

[[ooc: I mostly tag in prose, as I'm often tagging on mobile and who has time to do all that formatting on mobile amirite? Please feel free to respond however you like, though!]]

THE STORM

Axel jerked awake with a start and a silent scream at the front of his mouth. He had learned long ago that making noise only drew attention, and when all of your neighbors could kill you as quick as look at you, attention was the last thing you wanted. The Organization had taught Axel many things--stealth, strength, magic--but with the benefits had come a multitude of drawbacks, like the long sleepless nights, and the hypervigilance that always lingered in the back of his brain, like a terrible song he couldn't get out of his head.

His pulse pounded in his throat (a peculiar thing, considering he had no heart. Right?) as the images of the Storm played back in his mind. He admitted he'd been suspicious when he had arrived. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd been told that his world had crumbled away, consumed by an unstoppable force, and now he was stuck here with a bunch of strangers and had to start over. Fool me once... He hadn't been expecting the memories he found he was missing to be shown to him, albeit through the eyes of another. It hadn't been his world, but the memories had prompted the same feelings--or remnants thereof--that he still carried with him now, buried beneath the layer of literal heartlessness that prevented him from being traumatized by them anymore. The storm had swallowed up that world, with its blue fields and too-sweet air, just as the Darkness had consumed Radiant Garden all those years ago. He had thought it seemed too coincidental, at first, that these aliens had simply sampled his own thoughts and found an excuse that would resonate with him, but even if he himself could no longer feel fear, he had certainly felt the terror of those people in that memory. He had felt their hopelessness, their horror, as the roiling mass of clouds had loomed up from behind and just sucked everything into itself, and as he clasped a hand over the front of his coat and tried to remember how to breathe, he found himself perhaps somewhat less suspicious that these Orbiters were lying to him. That sort of fear was very difficult to recreate.

Turning his head, he saw that his companion seemed to be going through a similar ordeal one bed away. He didn't know this person, but he remembered seeing them in the vision of the Storm, remembered shouting for them to run--or had he only meant to shout? He couldn't recall for certain. Axel was not a particularly conscientious person, but there was an odd sensation of solidarity here, in this room, with this stranger who had just witnessed the same horrors he had, even if they had only been reruns of old memories. Axel of all people knew just how real a memory could be--memories were all he had, anymore. If they weren't real, then he wasn't real, and that was a paradox he really didn't want to think about at all.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he turned toward the stranger and offered an awkward sort of smile that came out looking more like a grimace.

"Remind me not to come back for the encore performance..."

TRAINING MODULES

1a.) Axel wasn't sure what he was expecting when he entered the training area, but that seemed par for the course around this place. Oh, sure, the Organization had plenty of training areas, but they had all been the same whitewashed walls and grey shadows that the rest of the Castle That Never Was were made of. When he had stepped into pure black nothingness, there had been a moment of discomfort--not fear, really; Axel of all people couldn't afford to be afraid of the dark--but an unsettledness all the same.

When the world around him had burst into light and color, he had backpedaled, startled, and then narrowed his eyes. This place looked nothing like the rest of the surroundings. The space station was all clean lines and white bulkheads, but this was countryside, like he hadn't seen since he'd visited a world filled with fields and forests and a gleaming castle. This didn't seem to quite fit.

He wasn't wearing his coat anymore--was that just part of this simulation? It... was just a simulation, right? Instead, he was wearing what looked like a tunic and strange soft leather shoes. Ugh, he didn't need fashion sense to know that this was absolutely not stylish at all. The rest of the world finally seemed to settle into place, and he found himself in what appeared to be a shop of some sort; there were tools all around him, and the unmistakable roar of flames rumbled from behind him. Turning, he saw there was a huge stove of some sort, a selection of thick, heavy gloves and strange metal clamps all hung from steel tables.

"What in the Underworld is all this crap?"

That was when he heard the screaming. Turning to look toward the opening at the front of the shop, he squinted. Was this another of the Storm recreations? He'd really had enough of those. A handful of people rushed past the shop, all wearing similar unstylish tunics and useless soft shoes, and before he really thought better of it, Axel had moved to the front and snapped a hand out to snatch someone by the arm.

"What is everybody screaming about?" he asked, baffled, and the young man just gawped at him as though he'd grown a third eye.

"D-d-d..." the man stammered, and Axel rolled his eyes.

"Sometime today, pal."

"Dragon!" the man screamed, wrenching his arm away and scrabbling to catch up with the rest of the group that had dashed past.

Axel made a face. "Dragon?" he echoed, and lifted his head. A noise of confusion escaped his mouth as the head of the great beast loomed into view, high above the small thatched-roof houses and at least the size of a Gummi ship. Its head was the size of a Gummi ship. Axel stared for a long moment, and as he realized the creature was moving toward him, he took a small step back--"Oh, hell no,"--and frantically began looking around the shop. Where was the reset button? If this was a simulation, there had to be a reset button.

STASIS

Never one to sit still, Axel had always taken it upon himself to examine every inch of any area he was going to be spending a significant amount of time. This station was huge, from what he could tell, so he had to assume he was going to have a lot of wandering to do. Well, at least he wouldn't be bored...

After meandering rather aimlessly down long, white hallway after long, white hallway, he found himself in an area of the station he didn't think he'd encountered yet. (Admittedly, everything kind of looked the same, so it was difficult to say for sure.) Beyond the hiss of an opening door there was a room filled with strange cylindrical things. They looked too small to be housing of any sort; was this a storage area?

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure there was no one nearby, and then quietly slipped into the room. There were no signs indicating he wasn't allowed to be here, but he didn't really want to get scolded either way. The room was cool, a bit cooler than the hallway he'd come from, and the hum of machinery was just loud enough to be pervasive. His shoes clicked on the floor, echoing eerily amid the noise of the machinery, and he suddenly felt a bit like he was in one of those scary movies he'd always liked when he was a kid. Somehow being in the scary movie was much less enjoyable than watching it from the safety of the sofa.

Approaching one of the strange cylindrical units, Axel narrowed his eyes and put a hand against the cool metal casing. There was a window at the front, frosted over with condensation, and even though every scary movie he'd ever watched told him that this was a very bad idea, Axel reached up anyway. He pressed one gloved hand against the glass of the window and smeared his palm across it, wiping the condensation away--

"Waugh--!"

--and then staggering backward with a cry of alarm.

"Th-that's a person!" he gasped, despite figuring he was alone in here. Somehow keeping this horrified discovery to himself didn't seem right. The Orbiters had told him that his loved ones were here, just as he was, but in stasis, still sleeping. Was this... where the people who had yet to awaken were kept? In these pods?

With a rough swallow, Axel rubbed his arms uncomfortably, peering up at the serene sleeping face behind the glass. It was a woman, so far as he could tell, with dark hair and bronze skin. He didn't know her, but... someone did, right? He cast his eyes down the seemingly endless row of pods, wondering if there was any rhyme or reason to the order they were arranged in.

Were the people he cared for truly here, locked away behind this frosted glass? Could he find them here? Would he have an opportunity, if they awoke, to make things up to them? Was this, in some bizarre, roundabout way, a second chance?

Was Roxas here? Was Xion?

... Was Isa?

Taking a deep breath, Axel set his jaw and moved to the next pod, reaching up and pressing his hand against the glass.

OMAGE

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Looking for someone you can chat with...
You’re now chatting with NOBODY... Say hi!

[Okay, that was hilarious. He had definitely chosen the right user name.]

Nobody: Uh.
Nobody: Hello? [Ah, what the hell.]
Nobody: Can anyone point me in the direction of the nearest place to get ice cream?

WILD CARD

COME AT ME, BROS. If you wanna talk about an idea, you can hmu at cassowary!

[warchetype]

Snake1964: Sure hope the rest of the welcoming party has more to offer a man than a rope and a chair.

[ because he is a man, is what he's trying to say. now that he's at least somewhat certain this must be a man trawling for a lady. big boss is many things, but "lady" is not one of them. ]