LOG 001: INTRO

[shiftmods]

WELCOME TO STATION RED.

You wake up in your bed.

Not your bed back home, of course, but the bunk that's been assigned to you. Your new bed for the next foreseeable future. You’ve been dressed in what is the basic uniform around here. (OOC note; your newly issued equipment is detailed here.)

Your own clothing, of course (the clothing you came in wearing, that is) is folded neatly, and all of your other belongings are present and accounted for nearby, and near them will be a piece of paper, a thin carbon copy of your bill. Of course the word ‘bill’ is the only word in your native tongue on the paper, the rest in a completely indecipherable alien language. That and the number, of course.

1,000,000,000

The room is sparsely furnished, small, and some would say cramped; someone with a less negative outlook might call it utilitarian, or hey, why not even cozy. The bed is just soft enough to be comfortable, but not luxurious, although it probably feels like you slept on a slab of concrete after what you’ve been through.

And what have you been through? Your memories preceding your awakening may be hazy at best, and you certainly won’t remember any of your arrival here. Characters who were present at the Interim will remember it. You might have a headache, light-headedness, nausea, strange lights or shapes in your vision, or sounds in your ear, although any life threatening injuries you may have had just before waking up here will be gone.

Characters will be free to explore their location, STATION RED, although at the moment, much of it will be unavailable, corridors shuttered off, gates closed, with no obvious means of access. It’s a sparse, almost military type of place, high ceilinged and warehouse-like in the big areas, with more cramped feeling interior rooms and hallways. There seems to be a significant level disrepair here, with exposed wiring, and chipped or scratched finishes common sights. This is closer to an old bunker than a five star hotel. There will be no windows anyway, making it impossible to tell where you are.

If there’s one thing that’s consistent, whether in your room, or a hallway, or anywhere else, video screens, seem crammed in unlikely places, and are ubiquitous. They’re all black at the moment, and some are cracked, looking like they might never come on.

The only place that really seems lively, and as if anyone’s been occupying it in recent times, is an area that looks something like a bar.

Its not quite this populated yet.

The bar-like area is decorated in an odd assortment of paper decorations and streamers, a small banner that reads ‘Happy New Year!’ strung near one of the tables, which is piled with the only available food. There’s cake, a variety of snacks, shrimp cocktail, an ample supply of  glasses of champagne. And almost all of them taste wrong. Some items might taste exactly as you’d expect them, others taste distinctly like something they should not, and those shrimp have the notable taste of absolutely nothing. Something is definitely not right here.

When the screens come on, there’s an audible electronic popping noise, and a woman’s face appears on the screen. The image has some static, but there’s something strange about the woman as well; something...insubstantial.


“Welcome, everyone, to Station Red! I hope you like what we’ve prepared for you here...I apologize, it’s something of a work in progress. We are working with limited resources here and your arrival was somewhat….unexpected. It’s been a long time since we’ve had dealings with anyone from your particular coordinates.” She smiles broadly. “I almost forgot, my name is Solan Re. I’m the Senior Case worker for, ah...well for you. On your behalf.

Take your time and enjoy the refreshments we've provided you - they're as culturally accurate as we could manage with our somewhat limited resources, informational or otherwise. In the meantime, I am here to answer your questions as, I'm sure you have many. I will answer them to the absolute BEST of my ability!"

Comments

Lewa | OTA (will match format)

[spiritlift]

I. UNIT 01

Lewa groaned, trying to roll onto his side on the small berth. He was rewarded with smacking his head into a shelf, a loud metallic thunk rining through the cramped space as his mask made contact. He cursed under his breath, flopping back over and smacking his elbow on the opposite wall, which dominoed into an increasingly flustered scramble as he tried to get up in the small space. Even someone standing outside could hear the racket he was making.

His head was pounding worse than before when he finally managed to get into a sitting position on the bed. Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was the bright glow of a lightstone, sitting next to his swords. Lewa leapt up to grab them and felt the fabric pulling around him, snagging on his armor. How did his swords get over there? Where was he? What in Mata Nui was this thing he was covered in? He started pulling at the garmet with evident confusion, trying to figure out how to get it off.

"Mata Nui, what is going on?"

II. STATION RED

Well, have lightstone, will explore. Lewa happily left the small room behind him, wandering the halls. Originally he had sort of thought he was still in Metru Nui, but this place managed to be even more dark and depressing than the ruined city. Not to mention he hadn't seen any of his fellow toa around. He glanced up at the monitors uncertainly, wondering what they were for.

The bright glowing crystal in his hand cast a strong light around him, it's glow would be easy to see in the gloom by anyone walking near.

III. THE BAR

Lewa eventually stumbled on the bar, and was disappointed to find not a single matoran or toa, or any other type of creature he recognized. Whatever these things were, they looked very fragile. They weren't even wearing armor! Even with other people milling about, he still had not found his teammates.

He walked up to the nearest person, silently hoping they would be able to answer him.

"Greetings, friend. Any slight-chance you've spotted other toa-heroes like me in this dark-place?"

||| 1/2

[likethelight]

[ If Lewa is worried he might be staring...

Normally, being the one generally stared at, Allen isn't one to repeat the same sort. Really, he's generally pretty accepting of all things Strange. It's not fair to stare at others for not appearing like everyone else. But.

Um. ] ...

-crack- [ Does Allen drop his plate at the sight of Lewa? No.

Tighten his grip so suddenly as to break it? Yes. ]

2/2

[likethelight]

Ah...

[ A couple shards of plate drop from Allen's white gloves. (He changed.)

Urge to invoke is great. Urge to invoke is great. Urge to invoke or blow his own exit out of here is great... ]

...'toa-heroes'? [ Ahem.

THE PROPER THING TO DO IS SMILE AND NOT SQUASH THE ROBOT-THING FLAT OR BOLT FOR THE NEAREST EXIT BEFORE IT TRIES TO MURDER HIM LIKE ALL THE REST, BUT IT'S REALLY, REALLY HARD NOT TO... ]

[spiritlift]

[ There was a brief moment of silence where Lewa just blinked at him. He'd never met anyone who didn't know what a toa was. ]

Yes, toa. Hero-save matoran? Battle-fight Makuta and his dark-creatures? Wear kanohi masks? Look like me but different colors?

[ He gestures helplessly. Something's gotta ring a bell. ]

[likethelight]

[ Is that even English. ]

I'm afraid I've never heard of anyone like that... [ Wait, does that mean he's not a machine? ]

[spiritlift]

[ Lewa looks very disappointed to hear that. ]

No matoran either, I'll chance-bet. Then what are you, and where are we?

[perroquet]

[ Unfortunately for him, he'd just asked the one creature in the bar for whom every place is dark. Gildor stops his idle picking at violin strings to sit up in his seat, at least trying to appear like he cares. He can tell the presence looming over him is large, and by the sound of 'hero' and armored movements, perhaps a fighter or paladin... not one he'd want to piss off. ]

Doubtful. Have you checked the bathroom?

[ Always the most logical place to search for missing friends in a bar. ]

[spiritlift]

[ Lewa snorted. ]

They wouldn't do something as fool-silly as that on a hero-mission.

[ He knelt down to get a closer look at whatever sort of creature it was. Were those lenses over it's eyes? Why wear a mask that didn't cover your face? ]

What is the eye-mask for, strange-friend?

[perroquet]

[ Fool-silly? But everybody needs to use the bathroom, even heroes! How childish of knights, to think they're so great as to be above pooping, but it's not really so surprising to Gildor. Nor is it the only thing that has one of his brows raising in bemusement. ]

My glasses?

[ He lifts them up over his forehead and sloppy hair, though the eyes under them remain shut. ]

I've been told my eyes are rather unsettling. So I keep them closed, but then I was thought to not be paying attention. Wearing these has helped to carry on conversations with less distraction.

[ He lets the shaded lenses fall back into place and pushes them up the bridge of his nose. ]

Now I get to ask you a question. Why the armor indoors? Expecting our mysterious hosts to attack anytime soon?

[ He can hear that metal shifting over form as the inquisitive one leans in closer, but Gildor was never one for respecting personal space either, and he doesn't flinch. ]

[spiritlift]

What's so unsettling you have to worry-hide them?

[ Hopefully nothing dangerous, his first thought was of one of Vakama's stories about a rahkshi that could shoot lasers from its eyes.

He looked down at his arm, as if seeing it for the first time. ]

Can't exactly take it off, though I sure-hope they won't attack us.

[ He looked pointedly in the direction of the junior caseworker.] Can't say I like the look-feel of the shadowy one.

[perroquet]

Oh, because I am blind.

[ It's said casually, with just a hint of surprise that he had to explain at all. It's fine that he did, but he's not used to answering this question except to curious children. Perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised, if he is indeed speaking to a paladin... not known for having very high INT scores, are they?

At the mention of the armor, his head tilts. ]

Is it cursed onto your body? I'm quite good at liftin' curses. Might cost you though, I've got a bill to pay.

[ He makes no reply to join in the gossip about their present host. Even if he knew which the man was referring to, he'll withhold passing outloud judgement on them for now. ]

[spiritlift]

Oh! Well I wouldn't say that's unsettling, just not usual.

[ True, he didn't know of any matoran who couldn't see, but even then I didn't imagine why covering your eyes would be important. Not like you could see what was in front of them, after all.

The question receieved a hearty laugh.]

Me? Dark-cursed? No! All toa have toa armor. Matoran and rahi have armor too, just not as battle-strong.

More strange-odd that you don't.

[perroquet]

[ No cursed armor to break off. That's a shame for the bill still looming over his head. Breaking curses is expensive business back on Meridian... although this place is so vastly different, that idea was nothing more than wishful thinking. If he's disappointed by the lack of spells to break, it doesn't show. Instead, he continues to be bemused by their mutual confusion of one another. ]

I suppose it's a little of both. Don't think I've ever met any... toa, before. What is your name, permanently armored one? I am Gildor.

[ He shifts his instrument to one hand so that he can extent his right in a formal handshake, quietly hoping the one in front of him will recognize it as such. Besides, he's curious to get a 'look' at this repetitive gentlem... toa. And aside from rapping the floor with his boot or staff, a touch is the best way to do that. ]

II

[twobastards]

Liz was getting real fucking tired of this place. The hallway outside her room was migraine inducing, but turn the corner, and suddenly it was as poorly lit as a stoner's bedroom. Digging around in her pockets, she searched for one of her mini-mags before she realised there was a glow in the halls. That was coming closer.

Placing a hand on her hip (near her gun), she called out, "Boy, really hoping you're a friendly."

[spiritlift]

Lewa heard her call, and the light grew quickly as he hurried toward her position. He turned the corner, holding the crystal high above his head to cast the light as far as possible.

"In that we are same-hearted."

He squinted down the hall towards her. "Unless you work for the Makuta,"

[twobastards]

Tilting her head back and looking up, Liz stared at the freakin' robot. Okay.

Smirking, she drawled, "Seeing as I don't know what that is, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that I'm not. Unless Makuta's another name for the Wolves."

[spiritlift]

"Not that I know, but then Makuta wears many names and many masks."

Speaking of masks, it didn't looks like this person was wearing one. Or any armor for that matter. Lewa walked over to where she was standing, and once there reached out, poking her experimentally. Surely Makuta would not send something so soft to fight a toa.

"What sort of creature are you?"

[twobastards]

She stood still as he approached her, regretting it when he poked her in the chest. He missed the bruise on her side, but he hit her sternum rather hard.

Rubbing it, she replied, "Human. Just human. And you? You a robot, or somethin'?

[spiritlift]

Lewa looked down at her curiously, head tilted to one side.

"Never heard of a human before, and I'd quick-bet you've never seen a toa either. Toa Lewa Nuva, spirit-hero of Air." He placed a hand on his chest proudly as he introduced himself.

III

[leanandgreen]

Fortunately for Lewa, Beast Boy's really no stranger to the weird. He barely bats an eye when the robot-looking thing comes up and starts talking to him, although he does kind of jolt a little and sets the glass of champagne he was inspecting back down on the table since, y'know, technically he's not old enough to drink yet.

"Sorry dude, you're the first uh... toa thingy I've seen around here." He frowns sympathetically. "I don't think any of us has managed to find their friends or family here."

[spiritlift]

"Well, maybe they are late-coming. Wouldn't be a first-start."

He didn't seem particularly bothered by the fact his fellow toa hadn't been seen. It didn't even cross his mind that they wouldn't show up eventually. Lewa appreciated Beast Boy's help, regardless, giving hima reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Hope you're friends quick-show themselves soon as well, little green one."

Re:III -- Either drinking too much or not enough!

[murdercat]

[And now there was a golem. An actual honest towering golem. Made out of metal. The Thing approaches him and his heart quickens. What the hell is a "toh-ah"? He pitches back his drink, and studiously does his best to ignore it. So what if the drink tastes like a mix between oranges and raw cotton? He tries not to stare, but with each belt, with each swig, it becomes that much harder to hide: he's outright staring. It's pretty rude.]

[spiritlift]

[ Lewa waits as long as he can for the furry creature to say something, but he's never been the patient sort. He doesn't have much tolerance for being ignored either. Maybe it couldn't talk though? Could be some sort of rahi-beast, even if it was behaving like a normal person.

He reached out and gave Mordecai an amicable pan on the head. ]

Not to worry, friend. Guess I'll figure this out on my lone-self.

[murdercat]

[He throws his hands up and attempts to ineffectually divert the pet. Did the brute figure him for a child?! He sincerely hoped that being manhandled by hulking metal monstrosities wouldn't become commonplace.]

"Stop t--Please, sir, do not touch me."

[He straightens the cut of his suit, and fixes his hair, pointedly avoiding eye contact.]

"While nobody seems to hold personal space in very high regard, I have not recently been aquainted with one so similarly.." [He gives Lewa a quick appraising glance.]"..ferrous. Unless 'towah eeros' posses great genetic diversity, you will find yourself just as alone as the rest of us."

[spiritlift]

[ Mordecai's got one thing right, Lewa isn't one to rank personal space in very high regard. But he obligingly steps back when Mordecai bats him arm away. ]

Ferrous? Furious? Fabulous? Sounds to me you might be wrong-spoken. I'm looking for Toa. Heroes. Self-same as me.

[ He enunciated clearly and slowly, sounding slightly annoyed with the fact he hadn't been understood the first time. ]

I'm sure they'll turn up quick-soon. Wouldn't want to miss the party.

[ Though considering the circumstances, he would probably want to miss it if he were them. This was by far the worst party he had ever been part of. ]