MISSION 004 WRAP-UP

[etrayamods]

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: August 9th and going forward
WHERE: Returning to Etraya
WHAT: End of Mission 004 Log
NOTES\WARNINGS: N/A

⏵ there's no place like home ⏴ On the morning of August 9th, every Etrayan’s earpiece receives a message from Eos: FAIL or PASS in big, bold letters with no further context. Players are free to choose which response their character gets; if they were able to go through Moorecroft without letting on that they were from Etraya, or another city bubble in general, they will receive a PASS. Those whose identities as Etrayans were spoiled, will get a FAIL. This response has no bearing on whether or not they participated in the midnight breakouts, nor what condition they’ve managed to get themselves into. It wouldn’t be the first time some kids from Moorecroft tore up the town looking for answers, even if it is the first time in a while they’ve managed to get as far as they had and cause as much damage as they have. Regardless, any responses sent to Eos will bounce right back to the original sender, with a RECEIVER UNAVAILABLE error: it seems that, shortly after sending through their results, all of those from Etraya have been disconnected from Eos’ network, and reconnected to Aurora’s by the friendly companion bots stepping through another portal in the middle of Moorecroft’s park. They’ll offer waves of their hands, and usher everyone back to Etraya proper. They’ll offer explanations similar to what Aurora would give to newcomers arriving to those who were dropped in with Eos, as well as offer to assist them in getting settled in Etraya. The companion bots will allow Etrayans to step through the portal with items they can carry, minus the smaller android babies. If they insist, it will be explained to them that, much like the companion bots native to Etraya, these babies are meant to assist newcomers in settling, and they cannot take them from Eos. Welcome home. At the very least, everything looks normal on this side. ⏵ whispered secrets of the night ⏴ Or it seems normal enough. While previous excursions outside of Etraya have featured environmental changes, the city bubble now appears exactly as it had before everyone left. Buildings stand as pristine as ever, animals have been fed and cared for, and everyone is invited to return to their homes for a quick rest. But as you meander through the familiar streets and over bridges, an unsettling stillness clings to the air. The usual sounds of Etraya–the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and the chatter from the companion bots– feel slightly off. Shadows stretch a little too long, lingering in the corners of your vision, and the light, although warm, seems to cast an unnatural tint over everything. It’s as if the city itself had been holding its breath in everyone’s absence. As days pass, the eerie stillness begins to ebb. The animals gradually resume their usual activities, and companion bots return to their routines, chatting with Etrayans as they wander the city and help set up new facilities. Yet despite the return of normalcy, a sense of unease lingers. The city feels different as if it’s been touched by something while you were away. There are no curfews on Etraya, unlike Moorecroft, but those who wander in the dark may be unable to help but notice that it almost feels as if something is watching you, waiting for you to let your guard down. Etraya appears to be the same, but something has changed, shifted. And it’s only a matter of time before that change reveals itself. Those who wander outside at night during their first several days back will feel like they are being watched, but will be unable to find what is watching them, regardless of the method they use to try and discern what it is. ⏵ sea la vie ⏴ The unsettling sensation of being watched gradually fades over the next few days. Etraya begins to feel more like the place you remember: slightly empty, but comfortably so. The weather shifts unpredictably, with cool breezes one day and almost stifling warmth the next. The companion bots, seemingly oblivious to any lingering unease, appear to be in full vacation mode. They spend a significant amount of time on the two small, sandy islands that are just south of the hospital, setting up for what looks like the perfect beach day. Chairs are arranged in neat rows, colorful towels are spread out across the sand, and a small shack has been built just off the side of the bridge that offers swimsuits and any other beach-related item that they could need - or most of them! The narrow river means surfboards are out of the question; instead, the bots provide massive tube floaties, perfect for lazily drifting down the currents. ⏵ polaroid pandemonium ⏴ Everyone receives an invitation to Corrine’s Cafe, along with a table number. The invitation may arrive via a companion bot delivering it to them physically, or as a direct message from Aurora via their earpiece. The invitation instructs them to meet at the cafe at a specific time and sit at a designated table. At each table, two envelopes sit in front of two chairs, each containing a collection of photos. These images capture significant moments from your history - events you may have forgotten or ones that have shaped who you are. On the back of each envelope, instructions for the task await: discuss the moment featured in the photo with your partner, and share what it means to you. Whether it’s a memory of a terrible ordeal, or one of your happiest times with your loved ones. The choice to participate is yours; however, Aurora and the companion bots make it clear that your place at the table is pre-reserved whether you show up or not - meaning, your photos may still be viewed by others, even if you decide not to show up. ⏵ NOTES ⏴ This log marks the end of their visit to Moorecroft! Characters return to Etraya on August 9th regardless of what shenanigans they were getting up to within the other city bubble. We'll be following up with the mission: breakout threads, as well as continuing to follow through with NPC threads and provide further information for those still participating in plotting. For any questions relating to the contents of this log, please use the mod queries thread. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ. ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

[decohere]

[mostly it's just less effort than bothering to pull the chair out, or walk to the other side of it. she's been this way since she was young, so any small shortcut is just casual habit to make up for all the other ways it inconveniences her.

she continues to stare down at the photo, her expression soft and fond with longing. does bill even know she's gone, ripped away from from their world? or left to think she abandoned him, like she had begged him leave her out in the alleyway?

or has she split off from the timeline, leaving it uninterrupted? and he'll never know she's missing at all.

she frowns at the question, but she supposes it's harmless enough to answer. doesn't give away too much, if she's careful.]

He... was a colleague of my father's. They were scientists, worked in research together. Highly advanced, dangerous sorts of projects. My father... [was fired, disgraced, driven out of the country and the scientific community. she clenches her fists slightly, doesn't want to get into that part.] There was an accident, when I was young. Killed my parents. Bill... that's the day he found me in the orphanage. Offered to take me in and help me. [but she sounds so sad and defeated by it all, despite that smile on the little girl's face. it would have been nice, if it had all worked out that way.]

I miss him.

[shabuir]

[ Fett's no stranger to the concept of orphanhood. He's been an orphan before; made a few, too. Her universe, it seems, isn't any kinder than his in that regard. Still, it sounds like she might've had a better fate than most. Being found by a family friend rather than slipping through the cracks of the system is better than most can hope for. Still, he doesn't miss the bleakness in her tone—and he notices that she only says Bill offered to take her in. ]

I take it things didn't go as planned.

[decohere]

[she breathes out slowly and shakes her head, because she doesn't like getting caught up in the idea of how different her life could have been.]

No. And it's not Bill's fault, he didn't know what they had planned. He did his best to protect me, advocate for me. But... my abilities made me too valuable for the wrong types of people. And I was too young to understand until it was too late.

[she pokes a transparent finger right into the little girl's face.] Think that's the last time I was ever happy. Hopeful. [and it's probably because she doesn't have to see his face that makes it easier to admit.]

[shabuir]

[ Fett may not know the whole story, but he thinks he can piece together the different components. An orphan girl with powerful abilities, parents with dangerous connections, the ever-present uselessness of well-meaning adults in the face of the way things are. Maybe he's not personally familiar with all those different parts. But he is with some of them.

He knows what it's like to remember the last time you were happy, too—and to be separated from it by a gulf of decades.

He says nothing. He has no reassuring platitudes for her, no false promises that hope and happiness ever return. But he does finally take that one photo of his own from the table, the one he had slammed down before. He doesn't show her what it is; he doesn't even look at it himself, just shoves it down into one of the pockets lining his armor.

And then he takes one of the photos from his hand and places it on the table. This one is face-up: it shows a boy crouched on a battlefield, surrounded by bodies, pressing a Mandalorian battle helmet to his head. ]

The sooner you forget those feelings, [ he says quietly, ] the better.

[decohere]

I know. [and hasn't that always been the flaw they've tried to grind out of her. that she's always been far too sensitive.

and as much as she tries to keep it off her face now, with his reminder... there's a deep sadness to her gaze as she takes in the details of the photograph. can assume the young boy is him, crouching and grasping at a helmet that looks so much like the one he wears now. a pivotal loss that's surely defined the course of his life since. forget those feelings, indeed.

she tries to think of an appropriate question to even ask.] Your... father? [a glance up, as if she can read the response from his unseen face.]

[shabuir]

Yes.

[ The black visor of his helmet is as unreadable as ever, tipped down as he studies the photo. It's strange; he's replayed this moment in his head countless times, but he's never bothered to picture it from another angle. Nobody had even tried to speak to him as he'd dragged his father's body from the arena; he may as well have been invisible.

He picks up the photo as if to study it more closely, but behind his visor, his eyes only trace its white edge. He's not sure what to say—what else is there to say? His father had been killed. Every other detail just feels insignificant...

Save one. ]

Growing up, my father had told me stories about the Jedi. How one day they'd shown up and just... destroyed everything. Killed everyone he knew in the name of preserving peace. [ There's no shortage of irony in those last words. His visor stays fixed on the photo, but his head tilts slightly as he remembers. ] Then one day, they showed up at our door. We tried to fight them. Tried to run. But they caught up.

[ He lowers the photo back to the table. His voice is even and quiet, wrung out of all emotion. ]

They cut off his hand, then his head, then left me to pick up the pieces. [ He finally lifts his gaze from the photo, the blank stare of his visor meeting hers again. ] After that... it was like you said.

[ No hope. No happiness. He doesn't have to tell her what that's like. ]

[decohere]

[she's aware he doesn't actually have to share any of this with her despite the instructions, and so she listens carefully to the retelling of his loss, out of respect and solidarity. a lot of the context is missing, but not all that important in the end.

she visibly scowls at preserving peace because she knows well enough what that really means.] Never trust anyone that claims they're the heroes. They'll always justify their abuse of power as necessary to maintain it.

And when their victims dare survive, we're the villains. [she slumps back in her chair.] Let our worlds burn. They're not worth saving.

[shabuir]

[ Had Fett been pulled into Etraya at another point in his life, he might have agreed with the woman's assessment. Indeed, there were times when he would have pulled the trigger on his whole sorry galaxy himself. But things have changed much in the last decade for him. Perhaps he can't muster up enough forgiveness or compassion for his whole universe, but he has it in him to want to save a select few: Mirta, Sintas, Beviin, Medrit—

It's too late for him. It's not too late for them.

Of course, he doesn't say any of this. Despite their mandatory heart-to-heart, there are some things Fett just isn't willing to admit, much less to a near-stranger. So instead, he rolls his shoulders in a shrug and grates out: ]

I've always hated losing. If someone's universe is more deserving than mine—they can prove it.

[decohere]

[Ava takes a few tries to lift the photograph back off the table, her fingers wavering in and out of focus as she slips it back into the envelope. her expression is flat, carefully neutral, and her gaze does not return to him.

it's a good reminder that she's alone. that she's always functioned better on her own, despite the few concerned attempts to appeal to her otherwise. there's truly no purpose in connecting, despite whatever this futile exercise was designed to promote. because that's it in the end, isn't it. everyone else invested in the survival of their own worlds, at the expense of others.

she stands, and gives a small polite nod.] Good luck.