TDM #1, arc 1.0: we drift like worried fire

[lamentus]

BUFF

Bonded of The Sorrowweld will find that the NPCs are especially friendly to them this month. Seriously, they just keep trying to give you things. It might get annoying.

DEBUFF

For those who are bonded to Tarnished Az-Mehet, you keep seeing shadows out of the corner of your eye on every screen in the ship, even your datapad. Something is lurking.

At first, you feel a pull. In which direction, you do not know. When a portal of shimmering black and glittering stars appears in front of you, it only seems natural to step into it. On the journey, it is as if you see everything: ancient galaxies wheeling through space, cultures born and growing and leaving their planets, lights creeping over landmasses and them winking out all at once. You see the hungry arm of a black hole, an enigmatic smile under a mirrored mask, a fist clenched tight around an endless sword. Fangs shining in starlight, bandaged feet that have traveled so many miles and still remain sturdy, and code shattering under titanium will.

And then your feet touch solid ground again, and what you have seen is suddenly hard to recall, the merest of glimpses springing to mind when you try to think back.

All you know is that you witnessed something enormous, something you probably shouldn't have seen.

As you struggle to refocus your gaze, all you see for a long moment is white. White walls, white floor. Narrow white cots lined up against a wall, screens blinking above them in tones of soothing aqua and mint. You are in a medbay — a highly advanced one, given the lack of bulky machinery — but perhaps the most eye-catching thing about the room is a long window showing endless black and twinkling stars outside.

Before you can give voice to any thoughts, a small robot flutters toward you, and perches on the back of a chair. "Hello, Wayfarer!" the birdform chirps cheerfully. "I imagine you must have many questions; allow me to enlighten you! You have fallen victim to a quantum accident and have been pulled to another universe, but the Ascendants, in their generosity, intercepted your signal and brought you here so that you did not wind up in empty space. You are aboard the Theorem of the Astral Rose; our mission is to explore uncharted space and search for the Song!"

They pause, thinking, their little blue eye aglow, and then brighten.

"Oh! Introductions are in order! I am Starling's Lament in Flight, but you may call me Starling's Lament. I am one of the Hosts of this exploration vessel; we will do everything we can to ensure a safe voyage for you. Unfortunately, at this moment, we cannot send you home. The Ascendants have indicated that their search for the Song may play some key role in doing so." They whistle a merry tune. "Please enjoy your stay!"

REFLECT

When you manage to get your wits about you -- it's a bumpy ride between universes! -- you start to leave the medbay. Starling's Lament has indicated that you are free to explore the ship, and nowhere is off limits to you. As you leave the cool white tones of the medbay behind, a hallway stretches out in front of you. Both sides are transparent, offering a view into the long dark of space beyond. However, unlike deep space, there is currently quite a lot to see.



On the left lays the broad curve of a planet, lush green landmass and white clouds skidding across its surface. Its star is just sinking behind it, lighting up the very edge of its atmosphere in tones of engine-burn orange and ozone blue, as long shadows cast by enormous space elevators creep across the landmasses. Its most eye-catching feature, however, are the hexagonal structures webbed across its surface, connected by fine corridors with all the geometric precision of woven spider's silk. You can just barely see the tiny dots of spaceships flowing around them, docking, embarking, shuttling between them.

"That is the Redline Trading Post." You hear a tiny whisper, and look up to see another robot — a beetleform, this time, with a shiny dotted shell — watching you curiously from its place on the ceiling. In fact, there are a number of other Hosts doing the exact same thing; a snakeform coiled around a barrier rail, a catform with bright yellow eyes peeking around the corner, a chirping droneform hovering some distance down the hallway. They're all fascinated by you. "But we will be departing soon. You will not get to taste the Galactic Snowball Nova-Cream, the shining culinary jewel of Redline. Sorry. I hear it is very tasty."

You look to your right, away from the planet and the Redline post, to gaze out into the depths of space. In the distance, there is a nebula, its gasses lit up in shades of coral pink and deep purple. It is pockmarked with stars both young and old, newborn stellar entities cradled in the depths of its life-making dust. Set against the dark of space, it is a flower in bloom.



It's beautiful, except—

The longer you look at it, the more something nags at the corner of your mind. A memory glances across your thoughts, unbidden. Something you hoped for, maybe; or something you fear. Whatever the memory, as you gaze at the nebula, a small piece of it curls, shaping in response to your memory. It is your face, reflected perfectly. Smiling, or howling in anger, or weeping.

Eventually, the nebula will go back to normal. But for now, it reflects the fears and triumphs of the new Wayfarers, a mirror held up in the darkness of space.

IMBIBE

Once you make it into the bulk of the ship, the Hosts inform you that as they have just restocked all essential supplies, they will be throwing a party in your honor, and they hope you will sample the food.

Maybe you're incredibly dubious about this. Maybe you're starving after your long journey. Either way, you find yourself in the mess hall. It's less like a traditional mess hall and more like a park full of food trucks with seating in the middle. The food trucks are bright and eye-catching, Hosts serving huge heaps of food from their interiors, as their signs advertise everything from Earthen Ancient Egyptian food (As Close As We Can Reconstruct It!) to Raxalar Black Stew (New and Improved: Now Free Of Grit!).

Real grass is underfoot, and the picnic-style seating in the middle appears to be real wood. The lighting is a myriad; whimsical string lights strung between the trucks, floating globe lights playfully dancing like fireflies, and the luminescence of a dogform's patterns and a droneform's enormous eyes and a flyform's glittering trail. The Hosts are clearly excited.

And if the food happens to have... some kind of effect?

Well, the Hosts say, that's only to be expected! The attention of an Edict may, for a nano-second, turn toward the start of this voyage, and that's bound to make anything go a little wonky. Also, they've used some ingredients from the local system, and it's only customary there to share some thoughts and ideas and memories when you eat together. How else can you properly get to know each other?

RED BUFFALO SHANK WITH SPIKED LOTUS

This may or may not look appealing to you depending on your sensibilities, but it does smell incredible. Soft, savory red meat paired with the fragrant, earthy scent of the vegetable. The Red Buffalo is perfectly seared, and if you poke them cautiously, you'll find the spikes are entirely edible, as long as you chew well enough. If Wayfarers eat this, they will find themselves sharing a memory with the nearest person, a vision of the last time they were truly happy.

UPSIDE-DOWN PLUM SPARK-WINE

It seems the Hosts aren't quite sure of the appropriate alcohol content of substances, as this will burn all the way down, chased by a cool, sparkly feeling all the way down one's esophagus. It tastes of sweetly sour plums, and a potential hangover tomorrow morning. Wayfarers that imbibe this alcohol beverage will start overhearing the thoughts of those around them, as if they are perfectly in tune with everyone.

GOLDEN BUNS WITH SPICED HONEY DRIZZLE

Ah, a perfectly homey looking meal, sweet and savory, gently steaming. These are a must-try for any Wayfarer with a sweet tooth, proudly boasting of the agricultural and apiary skill of a nearby alien culture. The buns are perfectly fluffy, the spiced honey is warming. What's not to love? After eating this, Wayfarers will find themselves and the nearest person sharing a vision of themselves as they might have been had they gone down the worst possible path in their life.

CHERRY COLA!™

This isn't the Cherry Cola! you may or may not be familiar with, but it's interesting that whatever alien came up with this came up with the same Earth word. Or maybe the Hosts got it from Earth? Either way, it's fizzy, it's sparkly, it makes you feel like you're floating on rainbow bubbles. Upon drinking this, imbibers will telepathically project outward a vision of the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.

A CAKE. MAYBE.

Dear god. What is it? Who came up with this? Who is even brave enough to try this? It certainly… has a taste. It… has an appearance. Whether either of these things are good is in the eye of the beholder. Wayfarers adventurous enough to put this in their mouths (or other eating appendages) will find themselves uncontrollably speaking aloud of the thing they long for the most.

INITIATE

Eventually, it comes time to launch.

The Hosts are a blur of activity, some of them packing up more delicate equipment in case of errant gravity waves during initial propulsion, some of them herding the Wayfarers into a seating area reserved specifically for the safety of its occupants during launch, deceleration, and rare turbulence. You are informed that engine flare will be so bright it will rival a star for the next twenty-five hours of engine start-up burn, but you will only need to stay strapped in for half an hour or so.

As the Theorem's enormous engines start cycling, the entire ship seems to hum in melodic song. And after everybody is strapped in, that's when the intensity starts. Gravity seems to want to push everything toward the stern, and Wayfarers are pressed hard against their seats with the inertia. After half an hour, the Hosts cheerily announce that everybody is free to get up and move around — but you might want to stay near a window, as they will be doing a low dive through the nearby planet's second moon's atmosphere, and it will be quite the sight.

Soon enough, the moon becomes visible. It is of unbroken crimson red, though subtle shifting in its surface lets you guess that it's water rather than earth. And then, as the Theorem rolls gently to the side, the view in the windows nearly perfectly split between moon and space, that's when you see them, swimming through the atmosphere.



To call them fish would be inaccurate — they are not in an ocean, or any body of water — and yet, that will be the word that springs to mind for most Wayfarers. Some of them are sleek and small, schooling in packs of shimmering white and ochre. Others are long and pointed, appendages pointed backward to exude a bright pink gas that propels them forward and which trails after them like oil slicks in the air. The locals call them x'enuda, the Hosts tell you, a combination of words that mean to fly and cunning prey.

They swim closer, swarming outside of the window. Some of them swim through, phasing through the shielding and windows alike, to dance gently in the interior of the Theorem, darting to and fro. If any Wayfarers find themselves curious enough to reach out and touch these creatures, they will find themselves similarly phased, capable of passing through matter for the next few minutes before the shared electrical field wears off and returns them to normal corporality. The external shield will catch you if you phase right through the ship's floor, but you may need to swim back up. Others may find themselves suddenly craving company, as if the x'enuda's instinct to remain safe in a school is catching.

FOREWORD

"All Wayfarers, please report to the docking bay!"

As you filter into the enormous cavern that makes up the docking bay of the Theorem, you see rows of smaller spacecraft. Some of them are sleek and light, like they'd be as free as a feather during aerial combat, while others are bulky and spacious. Many of them have designs in alien languages on them, or bizarre looking mascots, seemingly for good luck. As the occasional screen informs you, you are free to claim any one of the ships as your own, but first, Starling's Lament would very much like to give a presentation.

Past the rows of ships lays an expansive opening in the side of the Theorem, many stories high and wide, a shimmering forcefield the only thing between you and space. Beyond it, you can see the quickly fading shape of the planet and moons you left behind as the Theorem continues acceleration. It is in front of this that Starling's Lament has set up a large hologram of a star map.

As they start to explain once everyone is gathered, the map currently shows the region of space you are in. It is an enormous quadrant of multiple galaxies, some pinwheeled in shape, some circuler or tube-like. A line arcs across it, heading into what is clearly less-explored space, beyond the area colorfully marked as Alliance territory. Eventually, that line stops at a star, which then magnifies to reveal a six planet system, the second planet from the star circled.

This is your first objective: designation Epsilon-355.

There are many stories of which planets the Last Pilgrim has set foot upon, and yet, nobody has ever verified any of them. This, the Ascendants claim, is the closest match they have found for one of those planets in a scrap of story: a land of golden sand and shimmering glass, where pilgrimages track their way across the Golden Barrens desert. The planet is small and unassuming in the hologram, and the details next to it are scarce: relatively normal gravity, breathable atmosphere. More details will become available as the Theorem gets close enough for in-depth scans.

If there any notes of the Song to be found, they may yet be found in the Last Pilgrim's footprints.

Presentation nearly over, Starling's Lament directs you a series of tables that have neatly assembled packages of gear. Once you have picked your Division, you are welcome to claim the technological tools of its trade. You can also look at the spaceships available to claim, or even just watch out the docking bay door as you leave the planet behind and head deeper into space.

Welcome to the mission, Wayfarer.

(CODE)

Comments

Elster | Signalis

[promisedotexe]

Reflect
[It was strange to wake on a medical bed, though the biological components of a Replika could certainly qualify one for medical care. Once Elster has left, hooflike feet careful on the floor, things become more comfortable. It's right to look out a window and see space and spaceships. Still...for some reason, the planet is hard to look at.

Elster turns her head to take in the whispered information from the local machines. Strange that they would be modeled this way, instead of after people. A cultural difference, perhaps. Engineering logic suggests other reasons to Elster. She gives a terse, acknowledging nod of her head. An LSTR unit is supposed to be distant like that.

It's so easy to fall into staring into space, looking contemplative at the swirl of color the nebula provides. It's almost like the old days. Until she sees it. She remembers...

There is no going back.

Elster's even expression fractures. Horror, shock, grief. All of it reflected in that singular moment by the cosmos. Synthetic breaths come in ragged gasps. It's just moments before the cacophony of emotions can be boxed up and buried again, but for a machine, it is an eternity.

Someone had been talking. What had they said? Ah, yes. About missing the culinary jewel of Redline.]

That's fine. It's more important to keep the departure time.

Foreword
[During the briefing, the observant might notice that Elster's eyes are sharp, narrowed. Six planets. A significant number, to her. At any rate - they have an objective. The Replika can move forward with this again. As soon as it is acceptable to do so she is belting on the allotted equipment for an engineer. That is what she was made to do, after all. She is meant to fix. To scout. Isn't she?

A scanner, a field test kit, and a multitool. The Rule of Six still applies to Elster. She'll need to find somewhere to stow things if she needs to carry much else. The irony in her expression is subtle, but it's there when Elster murmurs to herself.]

"Private property is a privilege: Keep your pockets empty and your bag light."

foreword

[fessus]

[ Oddly, for someone as lost in internal monologue as Noctis often is – which is a kind way to call him highly unperceptive – he actually does notice her hyperfocus. Maybe it's just that he wants to find someone who's as ill at ease as he feels, even if it's carefully hidden behind an emotionless, nonplussed expression.

Still, after they've separated for equipment and to examine the ships, he recognizes her when they again cross paths in the large bay. And it just so happens that when he passes by she's speaking to herself, loud enough for him to seek confirmation: ]

Hah? Did you say something to me?

[promisedotexe]

[Her head tilts his way; no identification file to pull when Elster looks at him. She'll have to get used to that. It's just part of being away from the Nation.]

A thought.

[Her answer is honest, not trying to cover for herself. The unit's gaze dips, searching Noctis for what equipment he might have collected.]

Resources are bound to have a limit on an exploratory mission. Even distributing this much seems significant to me.

[But then, the Penrose program didn't use a home ship. It was purely small craft, more on the scale of the ships up for claim.]

[fessus]

[ He glances behind himself even as she speaks, as if checking to see if she might've been talking to someone else at first. He still doesn't know. ]

Yeah, maybe... but worrying about that already? Don't we have bigger issues? If they give us too much of what we need I guess that's on them.

[ When he notices her looking he lifts his badge, "Support" emblazoned on it in clear lettering. ]

[promisedotexe]

Bigger issues...

[The thought trails off. That's right. There's something she'll need to do. If figuring out the Song is what they have to do for her to get to it, then Elster simply accepts that it will have to get done.

The unit shakes her head, and offers a deadpan example of why supply limits would be one of the first places her concerns go.]

Mission documents for my government's exploratory missions would include a warning. If it comes down to it, it's good to remember my biologic components are poisonous.

[You know. Typical contingencies to think about when you put two people in a metal box and shoot it into space.]

foreword

[flavourtown]

[ Without sight, Jiaoqiu's only identification of the person next to him is by the sound of their footsteps, and their voice. His earpiece with a pinhole camera, the Host-given device that describes his surroundings for him, only identifies them as humanoid, two meters away, picking up a Science & Engineering pack. Their footsteps sound like hooves, interestingly enough, and the voice is feminine, though that doesn't necessarily denote a gender. ]

A wise notion, when one is beset by thieves. [ Jiaoqiu's tone is light, his smile placid and calm as always, giving away little. ] Whether individuals, or corporations, or even governments.

[ He's rustling through his own Support pack, examining the medical field kit with it. It's not especially fancy, stocked only for emergencies -- he assumes Medical gets the better stuff. ]

Still, one can only hope that's not the case here.

[promisedotexe]

[More complicated feelings. The Eusan government was highly concerned with who had what sorts of property, but it has been - how long has it truly been? - since Elster has had to care what the government would want. And even so, now that there are healthy people around the subject requires a less blunt approach.

Jiaoqui offers an eminently actionable line of thought, something a little less jaded, and Elster latches onto it. Forward thinking, much better than trying to untangle the past.]

True. Deep space exploration offers few opportunities for theft. As long as there are sufficient supplies for the ship’s complement. My understanding is that encountering other sentient life on reaching a planet is statistically unlikely, so we should not expect an outside raid on supplies.

[But is that right? This is old logic. Based on years of personal experience, sure, but things already strike her as very different here. She’s looking at someone who isn’t human, which is a pretty big crack in the foundation of her thinking on the subject. Somewhere, there’s more than just Gestalts and Replikas. There’s the hint of curiosity in her voice when Elster speaks again.]

You’re different.

[flavourtown]

Am I? I can assure you: on my world, I'm perfectly plain.

[ Jiaoqiu's response is light, and completely diplomatic, with a tiny smidge of amusement in there. Yes, he has been getting that reaction a lot -- other universes don't have Foxians, apparently. But then, he has been having the same reaction to others, so, it's only fair. At the mess hall he met a robotic being with dinosaur parts! ]

An outside raid on supplies may be unlikely, but one can never discount the idea of internal theft. We seem to have come here with naught but the clothes on our backs, but the power-hungry will always find a way to exert dominance over others, even if it's something as small as stealing clothing. That, or stealing food supplies, library books, scientific supplies. There's quite a lot of higher technology here that could be pried out by desperate hands.

[ He pauses, smiling underneath his blindfold, like he didn't just meander down an incredibly pessimistic line of thought. ]

You picked up a Science & Engineering pack? Let me guess-- you're an engineer.

[promisedotexe]

My civilization has never found another inhabited planet, though it searches for additional planets appropriate for klimaforming and colonization.

[In another life, she could have commented on theft out of desperation. From that life...well, she does remember the smell of the ocean. What Elster knows of running out of supplies...internal theft was never a concern.

Elster nods to acknowledge Jiaoqui's observation, not realizing about his sight. Good thing about that assistive earpiece.]

I was commissioned to maintain a Penrose ship. These were exploratory vessels deployed by the Eusan People's Navy.

foreward

[sesbianlex]

[ Ariane has long since lost the ability to tell when she's awake and sleeping. Cycle after cycle within the cryopod had eventually worn away the sharp edges of reality. What she can tell is how all the aches and pains that have been slowly building over the last few thousand cycles are gone. The fog in her head has dissipated, she has all her teeth, the lingering taste of blood is gone from her mouth. She feels as good as she did the day she boarded the Penrose.

There's a memory, faint and buzzing in the back of her head, of something...else. A red expanse. An eye.

It doesn't matter. The mission, the announcement, none of it matters, because she sees her. Elster--

There are arms winding around Elster's middle, Ariane pressing her forehead gently to her back. ]

I think you may need a little more than that.

[promisedotexe]

[She thinks she hears static as arms find their way around her waist. It crescendos as she feels a gentle weight on her back. It's impossible. It's something she's felt a thousand times before.

People are moving, but the only sound in the docking bay is Ariane's voice. It's unlikely that everything else would fall silent, Elster's confident of it. It definitely happened.

If it hadn't been for whatever interventions the medical bay could provide before Elster awoke here, the Replika would have fallen to her knees. As it is, her expression softens in a way uncharacteristic for an LSTR unit, and her hand presses over one of Ariane's.]

True. I'll be out of uniform until I can requisition a hat.

[sesbianlex]

[ By all laws of the Eusan Nation, their relationship is forbidden. There, she'd be pulled away from Elster by now, under the disapproving eyes of the Protektors. After so many years together, would she have even cared?

But this isn't Rotfront. There's no one rushing to force them apart, and so Ariane leans in, basking in the feel of Elster. It feels like centuries since she's been able to touch her. ]

A small one? Those look good on you.

[promisedotexe]

[By the book, the two shouldn't just be pulled apart. Elster should have been 'decommissioned' for this a long time ago. Just one of many reasons the flag is meaningless to Elster now. (And yet. No more than six items.) Uniform also doesn't matter, except in ways that Ariane likes it.

She should at least loosen Ariane's arms so she could turn around and face her. If she does, she might wake up. Better to get a little more time being held. Always take the option that gives a little more time.]

Yes. I thought you liked it.

What division will you be in?

reflect

[bombdevil]

[ She only briefly sees her own reflection spun from stars. The moment she catches sight of unblinking green eyes forming in the cloudy nebulas she looks away.

In the sky she is smiling earnestly, and that's infinitely more horrifying than seeing herself bloody and mangled, or scared for her life. There were things in this universe that were far more frightening than pain.

Reze focuses on anything other than the ghost in the sky- her distraction comes to her in the way of labored breathing a few feet away from her. She doesn't cross the distance between her and the stranger but calls out to them. ]

You okay over there?

[ She waves as if to convey she means no harm. ]

Did you.. see something too? Or am I just, totally going insane?

[promisedotexe]

Perhaps we are both insane.

[Elster could be more tight-lipped, but her own diagnostics don't support her being very stable, which doesn't build much confidence for anything Elster perceives.

She does need to rein it in, though. How effective could she be like this?]

Do you have a mental health history?

[bombdevil]

[ For one silent moment, all she can do is blink, caught off guard by the question.

Then she bursts into laughter. It's the sort that makes your belly ache.

Reze slouches over and holds her gut. ]

Sorry, sorry- hah! No one's ever asked me that before!

[ The laugher as stopped for the most part but a few giggles spill in between her words. ]

Honestly, we even counts as like, insane?

[promisedotexe]

I don't see why not.

[Deadpan. Elster knows Ariane's sense of humor. She isn't sure she understands what this person finds so amusing. Maybe living in a spaceship with one person and then getting released into a nightmare wasn't the best way to get socialized.]

You don't seem to be bothered.

Reflect

[theroadpaved]

...is that important? [Like, does the ship not like, exist to move them around? Considering they're the only people on it and these robots are just hanging out and doting on them.] It may be no worse to be stranded on that structure than to be captive on this ship.

[promisedotexe]

[Is it important? He asks the right questions. Elster has to consider this before answering.]

The ship is better, as long as it has a real destination. It...lets you stay in motion. But it is worse if the ship doesn't arrive somewhere.

[theroadpaved]

[Motion is better than stagnation, but not if the motion is away from the desired destination. This does present a conundrum.] Are you going to stay on this ship?

[promisedotexe]

Even though I'll miss the Galactic Snowball Nova-Cream. [Deadpan. A regular comedian, this bot.] The ship has a mission. And I have to do something.

[Elster might not always understand what she had to do, but that's how duty goes.]

If you have a part in it, you would take it, wouldn't you?

foreword.

[fatalis]

Is it?

[ Jayce looked up from where he's toying with some equipment. Something about the way she speaks makes it sound like she's reciting a rule, but he doesn't remember seeing that printed on anything or said during the briefing. Jayce, for once, had actually listened to the entire thing because it felt important and focusing on that helped keep him from thinking about everything else. ]

The second part makes sense but the first part... [ Jayce's brow furrows slightly. ] I guess I could stand not to collect things I don't actually need.

Maybe.

[ Carefully placing the scanner down, he turns towards her. ] Jayce. [ And he holds his hand out. ] I really need to get better about introducing myself first.

[promisedotexe]

[Elster looks at his hand. Shaking hands isn't really a thing among Replikas, and especially not for an LSTR unit. But she's been shown movies, and that saves her, eventually lifting her hand to carefully grasp his. Despite the polyethlene shell that is the exterior of most of her body, Elster is warm.

By way of introducing herself:]

LSTR-512. "Elster."

You're prone to hoarding things in excess?

[fatalis]

[ LSTR-512. It rattles around in Jayce's head as he shakes her hand. He's not sure if that's a military ID or something else, but what it does remind him of is a serial number, the kind machined into parts before they're used to you know what to replace when the time comes. He doesn't like the idea of numbers like that attached to people, but he doesn't know how to say any of what he's thinking and he doesn't want to sound offensive.

He boxes it up and offers her a smile. ] Nice to meet you Elster.

[ And his first reaction to that question is to laugh. ] Uh, yeah, actually. I have a problem with throwing things away. [ His tone is a little sheepish. ] I try to use everything and I can't ever throw away a gift. It's a bad habit. I still had this ugly sweater someone gave me one year in my closet back home.

[promisedotexe]

[Some Replikas would even establish a more personal moniker, but that's just something that's useful when you're one of a cadre of Eules. You just don't get more than one Elster (normally). She nods to him to acknowledge the greeting.

And offers unsolicited problem-solving.]

If the sweater is hard to look at, you could attempt reworking the material into something more pleasing.

[Helpful! And resource-efficient.]

That way you still put the gift to use.