etrayalogs | Mission 013 Log

Mission 013 Log

Mission Summary

Genre: Survival / Exploration / Spooky

Premise: Mesa is a wild, lawless land of megafauna, from feathered dinosaurs to redwoods soaring stories high. Etrayans must document what remains of a world on its way out and then get out alive, surviving in the wilderness for two weeks while fighting off a hostile environment. Most importantly of all: beware the dark.

Tone: Dark and philosophical. Is this a world worth saving?

Objectives: Take samples and record for posterity what happened on Mesa. Demonstrate appreciation of what is lost and the capacity to preserve it.

❬ all that men presume ❭

While Mesa is full of life even now, with large creatures roaming the continents and making themselves comfortable, there are traces indicating that at one point this wilderness was constructed. The Citadel, a galaxy-spanning empire, had wanted to collect creatures from the numerous inhabited planets they could reach, and selected Mesa as the location for their conservatory given its lack of sentient residents. Once a carefully maintained vacation destination for Citadel elite, landscapes were meticulously groomed and animal husbandry was rigorously planned to create fascinating creatures across generations.

A good idea, in theory. Perhaps even in practice, given that whilst the rest of this galaxy has collapsed and died, this particular planet is still standing, along with all the creatures that had been transplanted onto it to call it their home.

Now abandoned by the Citadel, Mesa returns slowly to its original state: a deserted planet much like Etraya was before Aurora and Borealis's cities had been developed on it. Which is why Aurora has sent the Etrayans abroad: gather data on those who still live amongst Mesa's population, so that these creatures will not be forgotten as their predecessors have been.

Aurora's portal brings characters to a bare base camp, previously visited by a spare few of her bots in order to outfit it with just enough to allow them to survive. Simply called the Lux, their base camp takes the form of a massive spire with a built-in high-powered lamp at the peak, which bathes the entire outside of the building in light at all times. Some rooms hidden within the facility provide darkened spots to allow Etrayans to rest safely.

Aurora had told them that they must make sure to not be out in the dark -- hopefully the spire's eternal light as well as how carefully the entire outside of the structure is lit up offers them enough of a reminder to listen.

Possible Hooks
• Taking stock of your assigned team that you've just met, sharing supplies, and getting ready to leave on your assignment.
• Building up the base to serve as a safe respite for the time on Mesa.
• Returning to camp between assignments for a breather or because you've spent a little too long out in the dark.

❬ a conservatory left behind ❭

Mesa's ecosystems are dominated by megafauna: creatures of immense size and stature, often with lengthy lifespans and narrow biome niches. Most are locked to their environments, adapted precisely to the area they reside in, with little chance of surviving outside of their specific ecosystem. A swamp titan would not survive the cold tundra that the ice leopards call home, and the ice leopards cannot survive in the ashy, hot environment that let horned beetles thrive. Smaller animals may exist amongst them, but they are significantly less common. Many rely on the larger creatures for survival: feeding off of the parasites that attach themselves to their massive bodies, or nesting within their fur.

Much of the wildlife exhibits ancient evolutionary traits, behaviors and patters long-since established with no signs of further development. They no longer evolve with time and generations but instead have settled into their place on their planet.

The megafauna are not the only living beings on Mesa. Scattered across the planet are traces of civilization: abandoned ranger stations, research laboratories, and observation outposts. While these locations appear as if the technology within them was at one time advanced, it has now become nonfunctional, left to rot without maintenance over the generations.

Yet some of these structures still contain life, the descendants of the humanoid beings that established Mesa long ago. One may consider trying to extend a hand out toward them to offer what assistance they can give - but none of them will be friendly.

Long abandoned by those who had once brought them here, these people have become opportunistic predators, fiercely defending what facilities they were able to keep partially functional. The darkness that plagues the Etrayans also appears to plague them, and without light, the same ill fate would be their demise.

They do not travel far, choosing to maintain their own livestock and supplies to ensure they are never far from the light. After all, they know the greatest threat on Mesa is not the wildlife, but the dark.

Possible Hooks
• Encounter various wildlife while out on assignment, and perhaps run into another team.
• Build an observation blind shelter with your teammates and hole up there for a few days, hoping to document your species of interest.
• Discover and explore an abandoned structure.
• Come under threat from the residents... or try to reach out to them.

❬ hatchlings ❭

The chelonians, one of the species in one of Mesa's warmer climates, has struggled to maintain their numbers over their centuries on the planet due to their inability to change their ways.

Hatchlings are born several kilometers away from the beach shores, burrowed deep into soil to protect them from predators that may seek out their eggs during high tide. These creatures are massive, large shells encasing a significant portion of their bodies with only their heads and limbs visible from under it.

These creatures are rare and difficult to spot on Mesa: they breed slowly, live for centuries, and their offspring very rarely make it passed their first few hours of life. They often hatch in the dark of the night, making them extremely susceptible to predators that lurk in the dark, waiting for prey too small and too fragile to protect themselves. Large winged beasts swoop down from the skies, picking up the newborn chelonians to enjoy a fresh meal.

Without them, their ecosystem begins to collapse: kelp beds and forests fail, and entire food chains unravel.

Etrayans with interest could assign themselves a simple, unofficial mission to find the burrows and protect the younglings as they manage to break through their shells, then help them into the ocean so that their kind may survive to see the sun again. They must set up light sources and wait beside the burrows to make sure these massive creatures not only escape their eggs but do not become lost on their journey to the water. Following them to the water is critical, as their eyesight, even with a light source, is quite poor -- and they have a tendency to lose their way.

No one's asked them to do this -- the whole planet is slated for destruction, so maybe this entire venture is pointless -- but maybe this is something worth doing anyway.

Possible Hooks
• Idealistic types see the chelonian hatchlings struggling to make it to a beach and step in to help. Considering how large they are, this might be a struggle for them, too.
• Cynical types question what the point is.

❬ night falls ❭

Mesa's darkness is not merely the conventional absence of direct light.

The planet itself has no moon, and when darkness comes, it is absolute.

Remaining in the darkness has several consequences, and the effects accumulate over time, progressing along a spectrum rather than in tidy stages. This only seems to effect those from Etraya and the humanoids living within their bases, not the animals brought to reside on planet. Remaining within light sources suppresses the effects, but the moment the planet's rotation angles them away from this galaxy's star, any Etrayans caught outside of the light will find themselves succumbing to the effects.

Characters were warned not to stay out in the dark, but they were not told why they should not.

If any of them prefer not to find out and remain at base during one unfortunate night, they'll find out why anyway: the power cuts. The surrounding terrain, once held at bay by artificial light at the Lux, is swallowed whole. The air feels heavier and the atmosphere itself feels weighted.

Blithe apathy sinks in. The ability to listen to reason slowly leaves those left in the darkness. If they do not find a light source quickly, they will be able to feel the physical effects of the darkness set into their skin, potentially ending with permanent changes.

Those remaining on base may work together in order to bring the power back on, utilizing any personal abilities in addition to fixing the damaged circuits in order to bring everything back online. But they had better react quickly -- the longer the darkness remains, the worse the effects become, and maybe someone who was once trying to help is now trying to hurt...

Possible Hooks
• Help restore power after it cuts at the Lux.
• Underestimate the darkness effects, assume your light source is enough, and slowly fall prey to the pleasant apathy. You'll need rescue.
• Stumble onto another party's camp and need their help to be coaxed back to sanity.

❬ MISSION NOTES ❭

📌 — Please make sure to use the major events comment thread specifically to announce character actions that have a significant impact on the mission outcome or other characters.

📌 — For all questions relating to this mission, please refer to the mission queries comment on the plotting post. Other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

🔵FULL NAVIGATION🔵

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

...Yeah...

[Pending hesitates, then moves to drag the toe of his boot through the dirt, making a wonky oval-shape just a step or two after some raised roots.]

Should be good...here...

[he meanders, sketching out another one.] N'here...

How deep?

[She asks the question over her shoulder, heading over to the tents to root through their supplies. A large shovel isn't something she'll be able to provide - who would carry that around on their back? - but she has a spade for collecting soil samples.]

[he hums a thinking-sound.]

Not too deep. Like...this... [he ballparks a foot or so with his hands, sizing it.] Enough to stagger. Maybe break an ankle, if we're lucky.

Easy to make 'em. Easy to hide 'em.

You got it, boss.

[Don't take the new title to heart, Knife; it's sarcasm. But she does return with her spade and get to work, digging into the earth with quick efficiency.]

Gotta say. If something worth fighting showed up right now, I wouldn't complain.

[Famous last words, Shaw.]

[boss makes one of his eyelids twitch.] Tch. [As if I'd fuckin' be the boss of anything but my own bullshit!

he remains, arms crossed, scowling at the terrain and unmoving until she's back and already hopping to it. damn. efficient.

dry:] Fighter by trade? Or just fun.

[It's obvious from the jump that she's strong, scooping away chunks of earth with rapid ease; it's also just as obvious that she's not used to regularly digging holes, and it takes her a bit to get into a good regular rhythm. As she digs, she keeps talking--]

Both. Daredevils make good soldiers, as long as they're willing to be reined in.

[Which she is! Usually, with the occasional grumble.]

So Echo's got your reins now? [the tone it's asked with is still board-flat, even if Knife's running through various judgements in the background.]

[Kind of, though she makes a sour face at the idea.]

No more than anyone else.

[Knife doesn't realize they're doing it, but they do take some comfort in kindred feelings about this circumstance. so often they find themselves butting heads with more, ah...well-tempered sorts, their contrarian nature just dialing up their panic in the face of all the seeming calm and agreeable collaboration on display.

that it's being done begrudgingly makes the nasty feeling of cooperating at all less difficult to choke down.]

Been punished for not playing ball?

I play ball. It's too risky not to.

[Dig, dig, dig. She scowls down at her spade, pausing before she adds--]

Most of my friends like it here. Some of 'em even want to stay.

Home world sucks, then? [some places may be like that. or maybe there's just not enough people in a world to give a shit about.]

Home world's... complicated.

[It does suck in a lot of ways, but she knows that's not why Harold and John don't want to go back. Harold, especially, would never consider their world beyond hope.]

Just, uh-- some of us are dead back there, you know? It complicates things.

[maybe she can feel the way he squints at her while she works, or maybe she glimpses it, but Pending has unmasked distaste for that reveal.

So there IS fucking necromancy at work in this shitty setup. I fuckin' new it. What if we're ALL fuckin' dead already?! Do we all have phylacteries hidden somewhere in that stupid bubble?]

Echo steals souls now. [Great. Fuckin' excellent for everyone and everything. I hate this shit.]

[At first, she misinterprets the look - she reads it as judgement over their choices; as their reasoning for staying not being seen as good enough. She's even readying a preemptive eyeroll for it. But then they speak, and that annoyance turns to confusion.]

Yes...?

[That's why they're all here, after all. They were stolen.]

[Pending's posture and expression tighten for a few seconds, tensing like someone bracing for some kind of painful sensation. internally, Knife is having a fucking moment.

I'm going to find this self-righteous, self-appointed savior of fuckass shitass stupidass worlds and cut each of his fingers and toes off and shove them up his nose and through his eyes and ears and up his ass after I MOVE HIS ASS OUT OF HIS HEAD WHERE HE'S SHOVED IT and then I'm going to peel his skin off and salt his muscles and take a fucking HATCHET TO HIS ARMS AND BEAT HIM WITH THEM--

there's a couple facial tics punctuating those louder bits in his head, but Pending's jaw remains clenched as he glares at a nearby tree like he's going to flay that as practice.

eventually:] Okay.

[being abducted is ass and all, but Knife had their hide and their wits and life to wrangle into a safe-seeming shape to adapt to all this. most importantly? Knife is alive. alive and able to still get back to Soliton, to prove him wrong. prove that they'd come back and keep him company, immortal or not.

being dead, lich or not, is a direct insult to this one thing - this one FUCKING thing in a heap of other things that they could compromise with. not this.

Pending shifts his weight and moves, murmuring okay as he steps over some upturned roots and starts to wander.]

[Shaw stops her work for long enough to watch this facial journey: the frustration, the anger, the clear sign that some sort of revelation is happening, even if she doesn't know what. When they turn to walk off, her gaze follows them there too, though she doesn't get up to follow - not yet, anyway.]

What is it?

[She calls after them - because they're a teammate, and she figures she should have at least some of idea of what's going on in their head. And, also, because she caused this, even inadvertently.]

What.

[it's brusquer than his typical tone, enough so that he flinches a bit and halts in step, grimacing for a beat before forcing neutrality back in his expression before looking back her way.]

Something else? [did she ask for something and he was too busy frothing in his head?]

You're bothered by me saying that there are people here who died. I don't get it. Is it a religion thing?

[Blunt, yes, but she's not aiming for cruelty; she's truly trying to understand the issue.]

[Fuck.

Pending stares rather blankly as his mind races.]

Uh. No. [what would it be? to a half-orc who is supposed to be stupid?] A...nature thing. [Yeah??] Dead's dead. [Yeah!!!]

[For personal reasons that definitely include at least a little bit of projection, Shaw feels like she gets it. She nods, once, and shoves her hands in her pockets, belatedly picking herself up and moving to follow.]

I'm not a fan of things not working the way they're supposed to myself.

[Not to the extent that she's actively bothered by John being alive, but still.]

[Pending is quiet for a couple beats, weighing that response, trying to get a better read on this woman. people can say all sorts of shit out loud, but it doesn't make it real or true - hell, Knife's spitting lies all the goddamn time!]

So being...undead doesn't work there. Where you're from?

No. When you're dead, you're dead.

[She could get into the religion issue herself, she supposes, but as an atheist, she doesn't really see the point. And unluckily for Knife, everything about her remains as subdued and impassive as ever - there's no sign that she's lying, but then, there's no sign that she's much of anything at all.]

...

[and so Knife has fuck all to work with. Goddamn stoics, they think, while trying to stoically send Pending tromping back to camp.

they want to prod about necromancy, about liches, but...that's an Antigone dialogue tree, not a Pending one.

still, there are avenues:] How d'you know it's them, then? Dead's dead.

[Shaw, two steps behind and making no move to catch up more than that, shakes her head slowly.]

I don't worry about that. I worry that this whole place isn't real, in which case they'd be fake, too.

[There's an unspoken Of course that her matter-of-fact tone tacks onto the end of that, though it's probably not so self-evident to anyone who doesn't have her particular brand of neuroses.]

But if it's not all in my head - we already break plenty of rules of the universe here. Why not this one?

[there is something really, really fucking gratifying in hearing the kind of paranoid thoughts Knife rolls through in their head repeatedly being spoken in someone else's voice - by someone else, not just. Knife...using another. voice. because changeling.

that said, it's good Pending is in the lead, able to mug at that suggestion without the risk of being scrutinized for it.

This shit COULD be fake, but. But it's a helluva long con to be fake. Never minding all the fucking pain and getting hungry and shit.]

...Guess so. [with all things up in the air, anything can be grabbed at, really. which is part of Knife's problem in feeling stable at all; where this woman seems not to concern herself with it, it's all Knife winds up being concerned with...even when they fucking hate being concerned about it.]

Guess nothin's common, then. [no baseline, no true means to feel secure in anything.]

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cw excessive violent imagery :')

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