⏵ APHAIA ⏴
At the request of those inhabiting Etraya, Aurora has adjusted the mission schedule a little in order to send everyone into a world that is actively dying. Which means that, on the morning of March 14th, everyone will be directed to a glowing, purple portal situated just outside the hospital. Aurora will recommend that those with pets leave them behind; given the mission parameters of survive, she anticipates that it will not be a place for companion animals to accompany their owners to. She will not, however, force this: people are welcome to bring their companions if they'd like!
Once they have stepped through the portal, it will become clear that survival will not come easily. The sky overhead is fractured into a kaleidoscope of neon colors, artificial stars blinking in and out of existence among shards. Towering structures resembling stadiums and coliseums stretch endlessly into the horizon, their surfaces plastered with massive holographic advertisements displaying the face of past "champions" - many of whom appear to be long-since deceased.
From the moment they step through the portal, cameras whir to life around them, zooming in on their expressions while loudly announcing their names, their specialties, and what they are capable of. Applause echoes through unseen speakers when talents worth the excitement are announced: those with fighting capabilities, unique extraordinary powers, or odd talents seem to get the loudest reaction.
And once introductions are complete, a loud, booming voice cuts through the noise:
WELCOME, CONTESTANTS! ARE YOU PREPARED TO SEE WHO AMONG YOU IS THE SMARTEST, THE HOTTEST, THE STRONGEST, AND THE SHINIEST? ONLY THOSE AMONG YOU WHO ARE WORTHY WILL SURVIVE. KALI TYCHI!!
There is no introduction to the voice. No explanation.
Welcome to Aphaia.
⏵ SURVIVAL SPOTLIGHT ⏴
Aphaia is a dying world. Once vibrant, now it is little more than a stage - an arena where survival meets spectacle and death is a form of entertainment. Cameras are everywhere, their mechanical eyes dissecting every action, hesitation, every moment of weakness. To the residents of Aphaia, it's all a game. After all, they know they are living on borrowed time - why not make it fun?
Towering holograms flicker with advertisements for upcoming challenges, massive leaderboards shift constantly, tracking the contestants' popularity in real time. Every move is judged, and every breath is measured.
Participation is not mandatory, but refusal comes with some hefty consequences. Those who refuse to play fade into the background, their scores slowly dropping closer and closer to zero.
And when it does bottom out? They disappear. No body, no remains, just - erased entirely from existence.
Now, survival is not just about brute force (although there is some of that too!), but about entertainment. Contestants are not simply fighters, but performers earning the favor of other contestants.
Each contestant has a score, visible using the HUD of their earpiece. Scores range from 1-100, with 80+ reserved for crowd favorites. The moment scores hit zero, they disappear, presumed (and are) dead.
New contestants start with a randomized score, assigned the moment they step onto Aphaia's surface. From there, their survival depends on strategy, skill, and showmanship.
Nanotechnology laces the very air they breathe, embedding itself into their bodies. It monitors oxygen, tracks food intake, measures every potential need for everyone, including alien species whose needs differ. Supplies are scarce - meaning only those who keep their scores up receive rations, shelter, and medical aid. The lower one's score? The less they get.
And there are no second chances.
⏵ DISTRICTS ⏴
Aphaia is separated into four districts.
The Colosseum is where blood is currency. A high-tech battle arena where combatants are pitted against each other for entertainment, the Colosseum is always prepared for any battle one may wish to take part of. The floors shift, and the environment changes at the whim of the audience. It's built to support any challenge that requires physicality: the floors will break into massive labyrinths meant to confuse individuals, or the walls will raise to create rooms that are difficult to escape to test one's intellect. Within the Colosseum, contestants are invited to battle one another and others for glory. Are you a warrior? Built for combat? Do you have capabilities that shine through with physical action, rather than mental stimulation? This is the place for you.
A place of luxury, the Symposium is where alliances are forged - and broken. Here, the highest-rated contestants (those who rank Luminary or higher) are invited to partake in fine dining and lavish parties. Violence is not permitted within the walls of the Symposium; while this may provide the false illusion of safety, it is anything but. Whispered betrayals are passed between contestants within the walls of the Symposium, with deals struck to ensure that those who rank high enough to enjoy all the benefits it offers continue to be able to visit.
In the heart of Aphaia is the Agora. Pulsing with flashing billboards featuring the faces of many past and current contestants and live polls of the current scores of those who are still alive, the Agora is where contestants are invited to engage with the public to shape their own narrative.
In the streets, many contestants can be found putting on quirky performances, participating in challenges, or conducting interviews with other contestants. Charisma can be just as valuable as brute strength, and this is the place for those who rely on their ability to sweet-talk others to make sure their points remain high. This is where the facilities for the non-physical challenges resides, such as Echoes of the Past and Tychaios.
The Agora contains the housing district in which contestants reside. There are a few massive apartment towers stacked to the sky. The high-ranking live in luxury, enjoying rooms up to two bedrooms with plenty of space - the lower ranking individuals reside in smaller apartments, with significantly less amenities.
On the edges of Aphaia are the Backalleys, where rules are meant to be broken. A maze of shadowed corridors and hidden tunnels, there are multiple "convenient" corners where camera blind spots can be found. Here is where people come to converse between one another outside the eyes of the audience or to find temporary sanctuary from their lives being consistently narrated. However, it is also well-known that while they may be able to find areas where the cameras cannot reach, the Gamerunner is also aware of these blind spots.
⏵ RATED & REVIEWED ⏴
While the highest rated contestants get to go to The Symposium, those middling or in danger of falling off get invited to only the finest of trashy talk shows.
Anyone can see how this daily, midday TV show plays out. Stand in front of a television long enough and you’ll see reruns of bruised competitors hashing it out in front of an audience over failed plans, ruined alliances, and broken friendships. If you want to see the worst in others Kathiki Pidón is the show to watch.
Though one might wonder why anyone would ever go on this thing, it is a nearly universal guilty pleasure. There is a chance to raise one’s own rating without risking one’s life. But say the wrong things, and you may become more unpopular than ever. It is a desperate place to go- but they do always give a hot meal to anyone who agrees to come on. It might be your only chance to recuperate.
This is also a great opportunity to try to lower someone else’s ranking by airing out private grievances very publicly. Was the only reason you lost because you were tricked or betrayed? Is there a secret alliance you want people to know about? Or perhaps you need a platform to earn a little sympathy.
Kathiki will be more than happy to host you, donning his usual black and gold suit and holding his slim microphone for you to speak into.
For those who are a little shier, Kathiki has a private booth in the back of the studio where you can pour your heart out in front of a camera. This can have the same benefits, but it may be edited in very unfortunate ways before the public sees it.
⏵ NOTES ⏴
Please use our NPC Threads toplevel on this post for any NPC interactions you'd like! This includes Kathiki.
For all questions relating to this mission, please refer to the plotting post. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.
⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴
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etrayalogs2025-03-14 11:19 am
no subject
Hopefully he doesn't end up stabbed in the throat.
But things happen.
He twitches instinctively at her hand approaching him — wastelanders expect harm the same way they've often given it, after all — but after a moment, he grumbles, tugs the collar himself to show her the ugly skull-shaped scar that graces the nape of his neck.]
... Was a wanderer. Escaped after they chained me to their car, used me for blood.
[As he talks, he digs a hand into his pocket, finds one of the plain but savory enough halves of a nutrition bar before he tosses it for her to catch. He imagines if she's not hungry already, she'll be hungry soon. And people like them understand the value of food. Maybe she won't try to bite him again if he can get in her semi-good graces. Maybe.]
no subject
And like a dog, sometimes simple tricks work on her. Dementus makes sure she eats... but only after he eats.
She snatches up the nutrition bar, gobbling it down in as large of bites as her tiny mouth can take. She doesn't have enough saliva to swallow it quickly, gumming up her mouth and muffling her speech. ]
The Vuvalini have no business with the Citadel.
[ So she can talk! They don't have business with anyone anywhere. Outsiders are bad news. ]
no subject
See? Not poisoned. And he's not one of Joe's warboys hopeful to die on his behalf, that much is certain, considering the look of him.]
... Women were stolen away by the Citadel. Someone from the Vuvalini was taking them home.
To the Green Place.
Ended up with them only by chance. [A hum — if you listen hard enough, there's a bit of amusement in it.] Almost got killed for being involved. By both sides.
no subject
She does not wait too long though, her mouth feeling dryer each second as the water tempts her until finally she pounces on the bottle like it's prey. She drinks all of it in huge gulps and wipes any water that escaped her mouth with the back of her hand. She empties the bottle, leaving none to share. If he wanted more, he should have drank more! ]
How do you know the name Furiosa?
[ She will not confirm that it is her name. ]
no subject
A girl named Furiosa was taken. Her mother, too. It had been some time since they were gone, but a few had hoped... maybe they would be found along the way.
[Would the Vuvalini have completely abandoned them? Perhaps. He's not sure. He couldn't imagine that they didn't have some single spark of hope that they'd find them again — and Furiosa would. Many, many years later, long after the Green Place had turned sour.]
Just had a hunch.
[He wonders if he has anything in his bag from her home. The Vuvalini had been kind enough to share their wears with Cheedo and the other Wives, and Max recalls the bike he'd given them had been adorned with their knitted patterns, on blankets, on bags... he fears all he has that truly marks home is the map he'd made of the wastelands — old cotton fabric carefully marked with oil and his own blood.
Home.
Now that's more complicated.]
Don't think you'll believe the next part.
no subject
Furiosa's fault. Caught by the raiders, not quick or adept enough to actually disable their bikes. How many more would die against the Immortan's suicidal army?
She scoots a couple feet away. Her hand cups a tangled mess in the back of her hair, holding the seed from home. She doesn't linger, fingers migrating to the little bells and beads Dementus made her braid into her hair. The tips of her fingers pick up remnants of the powder he had used to dye her hair, as she takes each out and tosses them to the ground in front of her, each making a soft tinkling noise that would've followed her around instead.
She shoots a look to the side. She is not far enough away to bolt. Close enough to still listen to what he's saying, her silence an unhappy go on. ]
cw: hallucinations/mental health issues
Biting his lip, he shakes his head.
Not now, he thinks. Not now. Let him think clearly for a little while.]
If we stay here, you won't go home.
The door we came through is the same one that takes us home... Hn. You home.
[He pulls off his pack — glances to the side at her.]
Still hungry?
no subject
(Yes she is hungry, but he's said something she does not like)
She bolts up to her feet, pointing her finger accusatory at Max, her tone and eyes sharp. She knew she couldn't trust this stranger. That was a mistake. ]
He's on the other side of that door. You said I didn't have to go back to him.
no subject
... Look around you.
[He says it with measured caution.]
This place — have you ever seen anything like it before?
[Because that's the first logical step. She's a smart girl. Too smart, maybe, because it sounds like the ramblings of an insane person... or would be, if she weren't here with him. The sky's discoloration, the strange machines that patrol the sky, the buildings that are in one piece -- all unnatural.]
... You run off, I can promise you that you'll just be trapped in a dying city.
no subject
Her small muscles tense, ready to bolt. The water and food can fuel a second wind. She watches him as aptly as he is watching her.
Now or never. She bolts, throwing down a trashcan behind her to give him something to trip over. She runs as fast as her small body can take her, legs already aching again with fire and fatigue. She chances a look behind her to see if the stranger is following, but in doing so runs straight into a woman, inertia sending them into a busy produce stall. The woman, Furiosa, and the meager selection all go tumbling to the ground, tender peaches bruising on the concrete as Furiosa lands hard, scraping her knees and elbows.
The stall's shopkeeper roars angerly, grabbing for Furiosa's arm. It's a child! A girl! Another onlooker calls out, and the crowd quickly mobs around Furiosa with interest, hands reaching out to touch her arms and shoulders. She tries to wrench free, but the shoppers are too busy marveling over a child and the shopkeeper is yelling about how she needs to pay for what she's ruined. ]
1/2
no subject
He follows the sounds of chaos, and it serves him well. Fruit roll haphazardly across the floor as the shopkeeper gives Furiosa a violent shake, and Max immediately makes a beeline for him. Fist meets cheekbone, and the shopkeeper staggers backward as Max pulls Furiosa back behind him.]
Don't touch her.
[A snarled sound. The shopkeeper grabs at the wooden crate under his body and swings it hard enough that it half-smashes against the arm Max puts up; shoppers back up out of the line of violence with hoots and hollers, eager for the fighting that has swept over every aspect of their lives. It doesn't last long, though. Max thinks strike first, strike fast, no room for hesitation as he slams his forehead into the man's nose and likely breaks it in the process.
There's a stinging ache on his hairline and a few harmless scrapes where broken wood met his cheek, but the shopkeeper is collapsed back groaning into his produce, blood pouring out of his nostrils. It's enough, and soon he's grabbing Furiosa's collar and tugging her along. He hisses:]
Enough.
Gonna get yourself stolen or killed.
[He glances back, hand on his gun. Doesn't seem like anyone's willing to follow, though the gawking from afar continues.]
no subject
It's not a fight anyone would have chased her into, but she's used to being a commodity. To her credit, she is at least cooperative at their intial hurry away, but it's more because she doesn't want any more eyes on her. Once they've marched off to a side alley, she begins to drag her feet, almost petulant and wildly childish. But, mass is on Max's side. She she can do little to stop his march forward even if she sags her whole weight back to the ground.
She scowls, as if to ask what is it to him if she is stolen or killed. ]
I'd rather be dead than go back.