revivalproject | Whale Comb Home Party! (Open to all players)

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Whale Comb Home Party! (Open to all players)

WHO: All He Rows!
WHERE: The Amphitheater (Blue 1)
WHAT: The Agrii have thrown our heroes a Whale Comb Home party; you can also choose to use this as a forum for discussing theories and more.
WHEN: April 2
WARNINGS: Please mark any warnings in individual threads

On April 2, as soon as the light starts rising in the morning, you hear music. It’s loud and odd. The notes don’t actually make a lot of sense together; they slide up and down and alternate wildly. It’s the sort of symphony a child at a piano might make except with a cacophony of instruments. It fills the air with cheery, disjointed music as it floats out from the amphitheater, beckoning you there but, this time, not at all compelling.

On your comm you will see a message from Ga Re:

He Rows,

We whale comb you here a gain. Agrii have food at mew sick home. Go with mew sick. Part tea for all. Also learn time. Agrii need learn storm. Us need learn all he rows learn. Us hear all. Talk at mew sick home. We learn. You learn. All learn and stop storms!

Thank all yous.

- Ga Re

If you choose to enter the amphitheater, heroes who arrived in the first wave might recognize the scene:

Hanging against one crumbling wall is a piece of fabric that has ‘WHALE COMB HOME!’ painted on it in drippy, fluorescent pink letters. The Agrii version of a smiley face that you've come to know and love is painted underneath it right on the wall. ‘US THANK THEY!’ is written beside it. Scattered through the wide space are tables upon tables of food.

There are meats, fruits, root vegetables, and even what might be a sweet dessert of some sort as well. Characters with the Agriculture expertise - and those who have attended one of these parties before - will know that everything is edible and nothing will make you sick. But some of it might have … adverse effects:

- People chomping down on the striped meat all seem to get very drowsy a few minutes later.
- The red fruit that looks like a giant cherry is the equivalent of a few shots - the more consumed, the more drunken this party is getting.
- There is a bowl of weeds that have small, daisy-like flowers all along the stalks. This tastes like chicken and gives the eater a sudden burst of energy that will have them running around the room like they’re being chased.
-There are a collection of drinks, some made from the red fruit, some that are clearly water, some that taste like a less-sweet lemonade with no effects, and then there's a blue one that tastes like an especially dark beer. People drinking this will find themselves incapable of lying for a half hour.

Enjoy your party, heroes. But also heed what Ga Re said: This is an ideal time to talk with one another and compare whatever you’ve managed to learn. Think of it like a town hall where whatever you learned on Risa or in the storm can be spread around and analyzed.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jon stares, maybe even glares a little, for a few more moments, at the same time fumbling with his marker to get the lid back on. Then he risks a glance towards the edge of the table. He should probably not keep sitting on this. That's not exactly appropriate, is it.

He huffs "Of course I've never seen an Exo before." There is a clear over-emphasizing of the term Exo here and Jon shifts towards the edge of the table cautiously, his eyes back on Cayde "As far as I'm concerned, you look like-" He stops moving to give a groan and shake his head "No. I'd rather not think about that."

While Cayde reclaims his drink, Jon manages to get himself off the table and he can't help but notice the gun the other just mentioned. And he does, in fact, take a step away. Though it's something else that puzzles him.

"Why precisely would you even want to remember me...? We just met!"

"I know, I know, I'm a stunning example of Exos and may be too much for the unfamiliar to process. It happened with this guy I met on Risa. Things got a little on the creepy side when he said he wanted to make babies."

Cayde waves a hand as though Jon were the one speaking of strange experiences. He pauses to actually take a swig of the blue liquid in his glass.

"Man, you take things too seriously. Then again, you were the one just schooling an invisible audience who may or may not be paying attention so..." He shrugs.

There is a bit of a pause here while Jon mentally goes over those words. If he is completely honest, he simply doesn't know enough about these Exos to fully chalk off the idea of them making babies as entirely weird. He still maintains a remotely suspicious expression "Then I assume you're not after my skin."

Well, it's a hope.

He dares to close his eyes for a moment in a vague attempt to block out the music, then exhales before settling back into a scowl when he opens them again to look up at Cayde. While he may not be entirely sober, he at least still is very capable of scowling.

"And of course I'm taking this seriously! How are we supposed to communicate with our captors if no one deems it necessary to actually teach them our language! And the easiest place to start with that is their very own mistakes."

"Eyew, gross! Why would I want that? Pre-used and all- I'm sure it wouldn't become me."

The Exo pauses, feeling the need to clarify. "-which is to say that that is not a hobby of mine in general. Shooting things? Yes. Very much a past-time for me. Skinning things? No."

He actually starts to laugh then, shaking his horned head. "I was talking about the recording thing, but yeah- know what? I'm not going to disagree with you there. And if you're volunteering to be the one doing the teaching to these...these Agrii? Then be my guest!"

While the scowl remains, Jon is rather willing to accept the response - And the clarification. Though he could have done without that reaction to the state of his skin. True, he may not be the greatest at taking care of it, but... Hey. It's his. And he is quite fine with keeping it.

"I'm not very keen on being shot either." He decides to point out a little fact himself before he crosses his arms.

"Recordings are a legitimate way of preserving knowledge, be it in the shape of audio, video or text. And I don't mind doing them. Maybe someone should be making more. It can't hurt." He raises one of his index fingers to point at the Exo without uncrossing his arms "I will need a copy of the recording you just made."

And after a brief pause: "I'm Jonathan Sims, by the way. The Archivist."

Cayde has to wonder about what sort of place Jon's come from. After his skin, really! That sounds like something the Hive would do!

"Oh, don't worry. So long as you're not Fallen, Hive, Cabal or someone who owes me money I've got no reason to shoot you," he assures. Look, he's even smiling.

Blue optics seem to brighten as at least the man is in agreement about his suggestion. Really, the Exo had expected being recorded would have been the main concern. The whole conversation finally rounds towards proper introductions, and he takes it as an invitation to close the distance between them, thrusting out a gloved hand.

"Sims the Archivist, eh? Name's Cayde, Hunter Vanguard of the Last City. Not that titles mean anything when you're on an unknown alien planet."

"It's actually less of a title than rather-" But he cuts himself off there and shakes his head along with a short, dismissive gesture before accepting the offered hand "Never mind. just call me Jon. And I'd actually be interested to know what those Fallen, Cabal... And especially the Hive are that you speak of."

As of course hearing the Hive mentioned has caught his attention. But given that Cayde very likely doesn't originate from Earth, Jon doubts that there is any connection to the Hive as part of The Corruption as he has come to know it.

And then of course there is also the part of the Exo referring to himself as Hunter.

"Jon then. Not a Jonny? ...nah, Jon it is."

He gives the man's hand a firm shake. "Basically? Bad news in varying levels with no love of humanity. They all come from beyond our solar system, moved in on our turf and basically hate our guts."

Where to even begin. Cayde knocks back the rest of his drink before setting the glass aside as he considers. "The Fallen are machine worshipers, vicious scavengers and out of the three, probably the most reasonable." There's a bit of a hand-wiggle at that. "Lotta infighting between their houses. They'll still happily try to shoot or knife you in the face.

"The Cabal- they're the military-minded. Big guys you probably don't wanna mess with but hey, they picked a fight first so yeah. I'll mess with 'em. Heavy armor, heavy artillery- big on conquering. We managed to kick one legion out of our city recently." He scowls.

"And the Hive? They're the ones you don't wanna run into in the dark- which is of course exactly where you run into them because they thrive there." He makes with the creepy hands, curling his fingers like claws, waving them about in a spooky manner. "They're the mysterious, creepy ones with the dark rituals and a lotta death. They love death. It's freaky. They're terrible. Also they've nested in the moon and a few pockets here and there on Earth."

Well, that sounds comparably tame.

"And they are... Exos. Like yourself." It's an assumption. One that settles in next to a bit of wonder "You're from Earth?"

Okay. He may not be much of a consumer for fictional works, but Jon doesn't live on the moon entirely. His research has had him end up in various rather specific internet communities on more than one occasion and he at least tries to keep up with some ongoing theories and discussions that might or might not end up relevant. Of course it had gotten harder over the recent months due to some more issues, but even five years ago theories on alternate versions of Earth were common enough.

Not terribly tame when you bring in undead creatures and a potentially corrupting dark force beyond their understanding. The Taken King may be gone but he's sure the Hive still have plenty of secrets, ancient as they are.

"You say that like you're lumping us in with the guys I just talked about," Cayde points out with something almost like a scowl on his face. He waves a hand.

"Although I forgot about the Vex- now those guys? They're like...a robotic hive mind that does their own thing apart from the other guys. No less mean or intent on taking over things, mind."

Wait, what was he talking about again? He snaps his fingers. "Oh yeah. I'm from Earth. Probably not your Earth, judging from your previous reaction to me."

Given that he may lack some crucial insights in the matter, he will retain his worries towards the Hive he is familiar with. There's very little like having several dozens of worms burrow into your flesh before being nearly suffocated with carbon dioxide.

And those were still the better days.

"I am not... Lumping anything. I am attempting to understand based on the information I have." The scowl is back on his face. Though quite clearly his mind isn't quite as capable to leap through as many holes as it would be in a less intoxicated state.

And now there's also a robotic hive. And apparently one version of Earth potentially inhabited by... Androids? Is that an acceptable term? If at least that dreadful music would finally cease...

Jon settles with a soft groan and raises a hand to press two of his fingers under his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe you can give me a written, detailed account at a later time. Something I can read and-" A pause. "Well. Maybe record."

At this, Cayde squints at the man. "That seems like a lot when all I got was one lousy recording of your spelling lesson," he says, although there's no menace to his tone. He's been quite casual this entire time for all he's been talking about.

"Anyway. You don't look so good. Party too hard already?" He drops a hand on the man's shoulder, giving him a hearty pat. "Maybe you should sit down." He glances around for a chair, or failing that, anything that could be used as one.

"So, Archivist, sounds like a boring job. You get locked up in a room sorting things all day, or do you get to do more fun things?"

He doesn't quite comment on that first observation, already having decided to figure out a useful format for further recordings, video or audio, that are easily played back. They have an entire empty library to fill and, well. Maybe if he records them here at the theater... Maybe the Agrii get to hear them somehow. It could be a way to teach their captors about themselves.

But those are just a few thoughts sloshing around in his mind at the moment. Thoughts he won't try to put into proper words right now.

Instead, he winces at the pat, then glances over at the very inhuman hand resting on his shoulder "Ah... Yes. Maybe I should. Sit." He agrees, but makes no real move to go anywhere. And as he isn't tall enough to be able to elegantly half-sit at the edge of the table he has been on earlier, he will refuse to climb back up on it.

"It's actually a basement. We sorted files and statements, did some research into some cases... And I have been working on recording audio copies of them, yes. That was my job." At least the one he got paid for "It's probably not glamorous, but... I saved the world once?"

Thankfully Cayde hasn't decided to just try sitting the man on the table himself. He's still looking around for a chair as he listens to Jon expound on his duties as an archivist. Oh wait, The Archivist.

"Yep. Sounds pretty dull." He perks a bit at the end, sidling closer. "Saved the world, eh? Do tell!"

He loves a good story. He loves telling them even more but he wants to know how this guy's done it. Surely not by filing!

"I would rather have a dull job than one that keeps almost getting me killed." Jon points out with a scowl, then hangs his head, slightly shaking it "And I... I shouldn't take credit for that. Not when Tim-"

That is not a sentence he wants to finish.

Instead, he muses aloud, casting a look across the room himself "Jesus... I'm not sober enough for straight thoughts, yet neither drunk enough to get past my guilt. I guess I'm getting a drink. Or two. Sorry."

And with his goal now set to actively get drunk, he pushes away from the Exo and towards the nearest table filled with the Agrii's interpretation of food to randomly pick up one of the red beverages. Now this can only end well.

The Hunter seems to actually consider this. Nope. He's going with door number two. Which means plenty of potential getting shot at or what not, but that's him.

He waits. And is disappointed when nothing more is forthcoming once Jon's stopped that train of thought. When the man excuses himself to get a drink, Cayde raises his hands, hardly the one to judge nor stop a person from wanting to drown their sorrows.

Only after Jon's claimed a drink for himself that Cayde follows, picking up a glass of the red as well. He hasn't tried it yet. Does it matter? Who knows. If anything, he likes to still busy himself with the motions.

"...you all right?"

Not many can enjoy being shot at and Jon very openly considers himself to be on that list. And yet... He will probably survive even that at this point.

That first glass is empty about as quickly as Jon has picked it up and he resists the urge to hurl it against a wall. Or more likely in the direction of a wall. It might not fly that far. Blue is next and that's... A weird mix. But he does notice that Cayde has come along to join in the adventure of wild drinking.

The question earns Cayde a snort snort "Why. Of course not!" And the now empty second glass joins its predecessor before Jon picks another red one, but his eyes are now sticking with the Exo as he makes a short noise of grim bemusement.

"So you want to know about the Unknowing. ...Christ, you would have fitted right in there. You, this place, this abhorrent noise they call music!"

Well, Cayde now still has the chance to shut him up, or this Archivist will break into another angry rant.

The response takes him aback. Sure, he figured an honest answer wouldn't be favorable but usually people tend to lie or be evasive.

...unless this guy's a super lightweight. But golly was that quick. And so for a moment Cayde is left staring. There's only the faintest suggestion of a shrug as if to say, 'go on.'

He seems to frown at this Unknowing, or that Jon says he'd fit right in it. Given everything else the man groups into it, Cayde figures its a terrible place and he should therefore take offense.

"...if you know about the Unknowing doesn't that make it Knowing?"

Hey, he couldn't help himself.

In a way it's true that Jon isn't particularly heavy. Though he also hasn't exactly much in the manner of solid food for months. Though it may be easier to simply blame it on the blue not-quite-beer. At any rate, he gives a short, harsh laugh at Cayde's question, which at least leaves him with a still half-filled glass in his hand.

"Hah! And that's precisely why we managed to blow it up. I am The Archivist." He says in a slow, deliberate voice, somehow managing to keep it clear "It is my job to see and understand and know. And I did! I saw through the Unknowing, saw the mannequin for the sad clown she used to be and reminded Tim of the detonator in his hand."

Jon then empties his current glass and sets it aside as well, only so he can clasp his hands together for one thoughtful moment.

"Now to understand. The Unknowing... It is the ritual The Stranger and its allied Entities wish to complete that will change reality enough for the Entity to come through and create the world to its own likeness. As for The Stranger, or 'I Do Not Know You'... It's an otherworldly power that tends to emulate things that are almost human, but not quite. It is the manifestation of the fear of the unknown and the creeping sense that something isn’t right. It manifests as objects pretending to be humans, like mannequins and taxidermied people. You may understand now why I was worried you might be after my skin."

There is a pause here in which Jon fetches himself another glass. Red again.

"Te Unknowing we stopped took place on August 7th 2017, at the House of Wax museum in Great Yarmouth, England. The Circus set up a large theater underneath." He makes a gesture with his free hand to indicate their current location before making a swirling motion up in the air "And you may believe me that the music wasn't particularly different from what the Agrii present us right now."

At this point, he empties his by now fourth glass and even though his voice remains oddly steady, his balance doesn't exactly follow suit. Jon sets the next empty glass down pointedly and a rather nasty grin spreads across his face.

"We blew the entire place up. Skin-wearing mannequins, wax figure choir made more of body parts than wax and Corpse du Ballet alike. Tim died. Daisy got trapped in The Buried. Basira made it out and I spent six months physically dead in a coma, wandering the nightmares of others. Please allow me not to feel okay when all this is so grotesquely familiar."

There's something disturbingly fascinating about what all Jon describes for all that it's of a place that one would probably be better off not being associated with nor going. Perhaps it's just the way that the man tells it, dancing that fine line between control and falling off the deep end.

The Exo's bright eyes lid slightly in scrutiny of the Archivist. There's a lot of things, name-drops and near ramblings that suggest a broken man, but Cayde continues to listen. He gives a subtle nod to acknowledge Jon's admission, although his expression suggests that he's not all that crazy about being compared to skin-stealing mannequins.

"Fair enough," he finally says, extracting himself from the studious position he'd taken so that he can once again clap a gloved hand on the man's shoulder. "That's a whole lot of Nuh-Uh, right there. Sorry for your losses. But I much approve of blowing up a place like that."

Jon doesn't look like a soldier, but that doesn't mean he hasn't faced his own battles, and that recount alone is plenty akin to one.

With the info dumping part done, Jon deflates a little, adding a newly emptied glass to his collection, but this time refraining from aiming for another. Apparently, he can at least still get drunk. There is an odd sort of relief in that.

"Well. What else were we supposed to do anyway. Time had run out, we had the explosives and..." There's a shrug. It's not exactly something he is proud of. Especially because of Tim. They may have been friends once, but in the end Tim had all the right to blame his asshole boss for ruining his life. But maybe it's just part of the job to lose one's assistants to gruesome deaths.

Which by now leaves him to worry about Martin, but... Oh, great.

"But there you have it!" Jon concludes out loud in an attempt to verbally kick away that feeling of dread and depression trying to creep up on him. He further makes a point to turn his head towards the gloved hand on his shoulder "Please don't do that. It's... Disconcerting."

And from the hand on his shoulder he directs his attention up to Cayde's face, raising a single finger along with his now slightly swaying gaze "I... Will be violently ill in a short while. But you do owe me... A written piece for this. Later."

Even with so little details, Cayde supposes he can relate. In moments of desperation, if you've only got so much time and explosives on hand, the deciding course of action seems only obvious.

And not just because he does like seeing things go 'boom.'

"Sims. If I take my hand off your shoulder I'm not so sure that you'd still be standing upright." Even then his eyes follow that wavering finger. Metal brow shifts again in that inquiring arch.

"Just so long as it isn't all over me." Otherwise he might be a bit upset. His hooded head tilts in consideration. "All right. Topic?"

It's not an inaccurate observation, and that small, soft exhale of acknowledging defeat may be telling enough that Jon won't be arguing the matter. Rather than that, he takes down his finger and a little, alcohol-induced smile at last manages to find him.

"Oh. I think... Your world. I think I would like to read about your world. What it's like. How it evolved... Its people... Maybe focus on a single city? I'm sure there is something worth sharing."

He won't even ask for any weird or supernatural experiences. Not at this time, at least.

Cayde nods thoughtfully, and somehow his features shift enough to suggest a rueful grin. "That all?" It's sadly not a difficult assignment, with only one city to write about and everything so neatly connecting and boiling down to it.

He's been meaning to write things down anyway. It might seem a strange hobby for a mechanical being, if even that, but the Exo's no stranger to putting his thoughts into words on paper. If anything, this will be an excuse to see how much he still remembers.

Jon won't even have to ask for the weird and supernatural. Some of it's already part of the package.

"Yes...?" The man gives a little, one-sided shrug as he won't bother trying to move the one that the Exo's hand rests on "I... Suppose I'm just curious. Feeding those Archivist urges?" The last part is offered with the sort of drunken lightheartedness one might expect at this point.

And yet it's not exactly too far off.

His expression turns a little towards the pleading end "...and now I really need to- sit down." Somehow he may still be standing, but at the same time Jon isn't entirely sure anymore what his legs are even doing. Or where they are. But he also assumes he still has hands at least somewhere. What he is pretty sure of, is that whatever he has poured into at least expressing himself coherent enough is quickly drying up.

Whale Comb Home Party! (Open to all players)

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...hahaha

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And now I'm literally copy-pasting Wiki pieces \o/

Hahaha

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