destinystrings | The Search for the Newcomers, December 2012 Edition.

Entry tags:

The Search for the Newcomers, December 2012 Edition.

Who: Open to Everyone, but only Newly Accepted Characters can start threads.
Where: All around the city! They appear where you want them to appear.
Summary: Newcomers arrive and by now the Government is more ready and sends everyone out to go people hunting.
Warnings: ARRIVALS. Also assume the first thread is the ones who tell you about the city, and the other tags for the character can be talking with others in the city and learning more about it.

[FOR THOSE IN THE CITY:]
They were getting much better at this, it was for certain.

Last month's initial testing of the HORUS system had worked really well. The device which allowed everyone to spot abnormalities; and now even more refined, they could hone in on newcomers at a much faster pace. The leftover energy from the travel (commonly called Magatama Residue) gave them a few minutes to find them before it would flicker out.

Combined with the fact they could appear in most parts of the city, it made finding the newcomers was both easy yet frustratingly difficult.

As the blips appear on your own radar function, it was also nice enough to calculate for you the best transport and destination routes to take to get there. Speed was of the essence, after all.

[FOR THOSE WHO JUST ARRIVED:]
You're not in your homeworld anymore. That much is evident. So how do you feel? Happy? Sad? Troubled? A little of all three? No matter what, the memories of a butterfly man named Philemon are fading like a dream; you'll remember the details, but perhaps not everything he has said.

There is one word that stays with you, however.

Persona.

So...here to save the city, huh? First you'll need to find out more information. And who knows, maybe a familiar face or two...

[OOC: As stated above, only new characters can start a thread, but feel free to jump in any of them. characters arrive with their clothing and whatever items they had on them the moment they were taken; the remaining items will be later found in their apartments.]

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Picture the scene: You're in a massive ancient factory surrounded by the emaciated corpses of Jedi students, standing over the body of your mortal enemy/dear friend/would-be murderer/ex-apprentice/usurper, struggling with mingled grief and weary victory, and then... you pass out for a minute, and have a very curious dream about a city that needs a protector. And then you wake up in a dumpster with a killer crick in your neck.

This just wasn't Revan's day.

She groaned, briefly contemplated going right back into unconsciousness, and hauled herself upright. If this wasn't some kind of fatigued fever dream, she needed to get to the bottom of this.

That is, if anyone was going to be forthcoming with someone in scuffed brown robes, a rifle slung over her back and a lightsaber hilt on her belt, climbing out of a pile of cardboard boxes.

No rest for the wicked...

Who needed HORUS when you had Jedi senses? Meetra felt a disturbance in the Force. A presence she had not felt since Malachor...

It was, nonetheless, unmistakeable, the psychic equivalent of a comet crashing into the city, even if she was the only one who could feel it so strongly. Meetra didn't know (or really care) how they'd ended up in the same place, but she wasn't going to fail in her self-appointed mission to find her now that she was this close.

Meetra threw on her own robe...and her lightsaber. She was rushing ahead without thinking of what she would do, first, and she knew that was a mistake, but she kept her mind focused on her immediate goal. That was calming enough.

After the initial shock, the Exile did need to use HORUS to pinpoint the new arrival in the loud background "noise" of Hinoto-Ri's human and demon population, but she still managed to arrive at the dingy alley where the Republic's savior and destroyer had found herself after only a few minutes...

Wow. Revan had clearly had better days.

In turn, Revan had sensed the approaching Jedi—something odd about it that she couldn't quite put her finger on, not wrong, just... something. She'd figure it out in her own time. It obviously wasn't Bastila or Jolee or even Juhani, but it was a familiar presence in an unfamiliar place.

Actually, on that train of thought—

When the stranger appeared in the alleyway, Revan looked up with what she hoped was a disarming smile (more like a grimace, in practice). "Hi," she said. "Help a fellow up?"

"You've had worse suggestions," Meetra admitted, sighing and putting out a hand to help her former commander out of her predicament. This was definitely Revan...the Revan without the mask, the one she'd known in the academy, and the one she'd initially trusted. Dark Lords don't look this awkward, right?

"I have to admit, this might be literally the last place I ever expected to find you again."

"Yeah, I..." Revan looked sharply at the woman, even as she took her hand and dragged herself into a standing position. The Jedi looked about her age, old enough to have witnessed the Mandalorian wars. But most of the Jedi who'd fought were either dead or converted, and the woman didn't strike Revan as a sith. The weary familiarity in her tone was... strange.

"Do I know you?"

That was right. When she'd finally gotten the full story out of Admiral Onasi, he'd at least obliquely mentioned her memory problems...and what had caused them. It was probably best to remind her gently, given her present condition.

"I believe you do. Meetra Surik? People kept calling me 'General' for some reason?" she suggested.

"I'm sorry," she said at length. "You—it sounds familiar, but everything up to a year ago..."

She gave a vague gesture, not sure how to put it. A while ago, Revan would have wanted to loudly denigrate the Council for strip-mining her skull, but now... well, what was the point?

"If you knew me, you know how Darth Revan was supposed to have died."

"I heard. All of that."

She grimaced. No point in being angry at the Council on her part, either, but Revan probably didn't know they were all dead. She should probably find a time to break that news gently. "I also heard you recovered and turned right around to cut Malak down before he could finish off the Republic, though everyone had their own opinion on why."

"News travels fast." Revan sighed and raked a hand through her hair. "Recovered might be putting it strongly. But that's a pretty judicious summary of the last couple of months."

She folded her arms. "So. I don't know if we were friend or foe. You'll take my word that I'm not a Sith lord who's going to start razing the streets of..." She trailed off, peering around at the road beyond the alley. "...wherever this is. What planet is this?"

"I've got a lot of things to explain, and we probably shouldn't sit in a dirty alley to do it," Meetra said.

"I'll take your word that you're not going to do anything decisive if you'll accept a drink and a very, very long story about where we are and what's been happening back home."

Then, maybe, she could get to where Revan's been, but that could wait until she was a little more stable.

Or the virtuous, as a huge figure stands nearby, armored in grey. He seems to watch her like a giant, silent wolf, trying to decide what to do with this new being that has entered Hinoto-Ri, and in so doing trespassed on his territory.

She caught sight of the watcher—human, male, heavy armor, not immediately threatening but not the most comforting sight either. Revan hoisted herself over the edge of the dumpster, landing on solid ground with a thump.

"Hey," she said warily. "Where is this place?"

He looks down at her, and the difference in height suggests he's not... quite human. The armored figure is 8 feet tall, for one thing, and seems to have been reinforced against casual mental intrusion or attack in some way. This isn't to say he can't be sensed, or is a nullifier, but rather that he has been schooled on a hypnotic and physical level to have some degree of inherent resistance. No slave-warrior he, it would seem.

"You are in Hinoto-ri, on Terra, during the start of an Age of Darkness." He notes her lasrifle, and then... his visor focuses on the hilt, running through schematics and similar patterns, and makes a logical jump.

"Your weapon is similar to Surik's." It isn't a question, more of a statement. As for his weapons, he wears two blades, a huge, toothed sword that seems to be able to be gunned to life and wielded like a saw, and a combat knife that wold be a broadsword in Revan's hands.

"Is this place so dangerous?" She indicates his equipment with a wave of a hand—sure, Revan's openly armed too, but with good reason. Age of Darkness. Not ominous at all.

Her hand reflexively goes to the hilt. "It's a Jedi weapon." A frown crosses her face at the name; it rings a bell, but she's sure she hasn't met anyone recently by that name. Someone from Dantooine, maybe. "Friend of yours?"

"This place can be dangerous at times. Full of daemons and sorcerers and self-proclaimed gods, yes." He shrugs his shoulders, "But the truth is I wear them out of habit." He leaves out diplomatically that he doesn't need any of his fancy weapons to take care of the foes he's seen thus far in Hinoto-ri.

"Just someone I know." He says, almost harshly.

"Well. Gods or no, I need to get to a spaceport," she says. "However I got here, there's things I need to get back to." Without someone at the reins, the star forge would be open to attack; in all likelihood the fleet would have destroyed it by now. As entertaining as it was to imagine their confusion on how she'd vanished, she had to get word to them sooner or later.

Hm. "A Jedi is a steadfast ally," Revan says carefully, unsure what sparked that reaction. "No shame in knowing one."

Loken doesn't look convinced about the idea of any psyker outside of the Imperium as a steadfast ally and says, "If you are looking for a spaceport, you'll have to wait a few thousand years."

She stares.

"You're kidding me."

"Do I look like someone inclined to jokes?"

He glowers for emphasis.

She almost says you could be messing with the confused stranger and very quickly thinks better of it. He didn't seem like he'd appreciate it.

Instead, "Okay. Point taken. Is there any way to get a message off-planet, then?"

"No. Nor is there particular reason to, since you'll be returned from where you came at the moment you left."

He sounds a bit tired, almost if reciting it by rote. He's done this a few times.

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The Search for the Newcomers, December 2012 Edition.

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