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3, 2, 1...
WAKE UP
The soft, rhythmic whoosh, whoosh of air is what you hear first, perhaps it's a breeze? The cyclical beep beep in the distance doesn't really jive with a lot of nature scenes, though. A moment or two later your vision comes back to you, blurry in the beginning but becoming clearer with each breath you take. All around you is an opaque blue dome, and when you can wrest your limbs to move, the blue retracts and you're met with a staid metal room.
What happened? Where are you? Your memory is fuzzier still, there being no easy way to jog it like your vision. What you can remember is that there was an accident: one minute you were in your home world, and the next you were in this foreign place surrounded by people you've never seen in your life. Not just any people—scientists, who were trying desperately to create matter, to break the laws of physics and chemistry, in order to save their world. Because their world was dying, and they had tried everything else and then some. Their experiment was a failure, but not all is lost—translocation is a valid solution, after all. They could just send all their people to a non-doomed world, and start anew. And they would have, if the machine they used to bring you here hadn't short circuited. Your combined luck isn't terrible, though, somehow, because there exists one more copy of the machine squirreled away in the space colony floating in a distant solar system somewhere, the Plan B of this dying civilization.
That's why you're here, waking up in this pod in a cloud of cold air and colder remembrances to the murmuring of other strangers around you. You don't recognize any of them (vaguely you remember something about keeping the other travelers separate for quarantine purposes), but a soothing, sonorous electronic voice interrupts your thoughts.
Also, stand by to meet your friendly neighborhood NPC on Sunday at 1 PM EST. Be there or be square!
What happened? Where are you? Your memory is fuzzier still, there being no easy way to jog it like your vision. What you can remember is that there was an accident: one minute you were in your home world, and the next you were in this foreign place surrounded by people you've never seen in your life. Not just any people—scientists, who were trying desperately to create matter, to break the laws of physics and chemistry, in order to save their world. Because their world was dying, and they had tried everything else and then some. Their experiment was a failure, but not all is lost—translocation is a valid solution, after all. They could just send all their people to a non-doomed world, and start anew. And they would have, if the machine they used to bring you here hadn't short circuited. Your combined luck isn't terrible, though, somehow, because there exists one more copy of the machine squirreled away in the space colony floating in a distant solar system somewhere, the Plan B of this dying civilization.
That's why you're here, waking up in this pod in a cloud of cold air and colder remembrances to the murmuring of other strangers around you. You don't recognize any of them (vaguely you remember something about keeping the other travelers separate for quarantine purposes), but a soothing, sonorous electronic voice interrupts your thoughts.
GOOD MORNING. WELCOME TO THE WILD DELIVERANCE. THE ONBOARD TEMPERATURE IS 25 DEGREES CENTIGRADE AND THE DAY IS SATURDAY. WE WILL BE ARRIVING AT OUR DESTINATION SHORTLY, SO PLEASE SIT BACK AND RELAX. THE CAPTAIN WELCOMES-OOC: Welcome to Convive! All characters wake up in the pod room, completely naked, though their color coded space suit and personal effects are in a storage compartment attached to their pod. Additionally, all characters will naturally understand each other due to a totally innocuous implant!
No I fucking don't. Wakey, wakey, you formerly comatose cryptids. We've got a bit of a problem, and no I'm not talkin' about the end of this world, or how you miss your bed and just wanna go home. It's a bit more immediate and simpler than that, ain't that grand?
There's fucking parasitic aliens on this ship and they're not friendly. Just ask our two engineers, Kelvin and Calli—wait you can't, because they're DEAD thanks to our local alien assholes.
Don't worry though, I've got a plan. But hey, if you can solve this on your own go for it—might wanna start with the basic profiles on your new fancy PDA. Maybe you can just ask someone if they're an alien? Hahahahaha.
Talk to ya later!
Also, stand by to meet your friendly neighborhood NPC on Sunday at 1 PM EST. Be there or be square!
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As long as I won't be putting myself at risk of bodily harm by saying yes, sir!
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[ Why is he like this ad nauseum. But! That random beaker by Ibara? It levitates a few inches off the ground, even spins itself over a few times. Sorry Avery. ]
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[ And he applauds politely, with a slight smirk. ]
Oh, very nice. And a much more impressive trick in space than it would be on Earth, what with the gravitational variables and all!
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Oh on my Earth I could do so much more. Over here, stuff ain't connected all that right. Haven't you noticed? Or are you a normie?
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[ Which is exactly why he just used that compliment to make a jab at Avery, because lmao. ]
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I shall do my best to ensure that remains the case!
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How are you able to do that while I am not? It is my natural ability! I demand an explanation for this!
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[ This is the important thing here? ]
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[Rrrrgh okay, he's calming down for a second.]
No. I just fail to understand why something that has always been with me suddenly isn't, and yet yours remains intact.
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I wouldn't call this "intact". If it was, I could deal with all of this crap myself. But as for why yours isn't working at all? Maybe the machine ran out of juice by the time they summoned you.
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[Oh he hates the sound of that.]
Don't tell me it damaged me in some way?!
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[ This is the least assuring answer, but. ]
The white coats were sayin' it had more to do with the fact that we're not in our natural world. For me, that definitely makes sense. Can't play with BT's but don't need to worry about a corpse going necro and going boom, so it could be worse.
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...I'll assume that I'd rather not know what in the world you're going on about with exploding corpses.
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He gives himself a moment to process that...okay that is nowhere near enough processing time.]
This...is all a bit much. I will never call Ghost-type Pokemon a nuisance again.
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Your ghosts don't give you that much trouble? [ He sounds a bit intrigued here. ]
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[ He does not know what a Pokemon is exactly but he can infer it's a creature so good enough. ]
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[He still wants to know what happened to his other four, but he doubts he'll get any answers from Higgs on that.]
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[ Sorry Slowbro. ]
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[Does Higgs care? Avery doesn't know, but he asked about Pokemon in the first place!]
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