ss_noanga | Arrival #4

Arrival #4

For the Crew

Between one blink and the next, the crew find themselves drawn back to the bridge, perhaps for the first time, perhaps not. It is a feeling, a pull, a tug; it doesn't matter how, only that they are there to witness the flash of light, the hint of a portal on the floor (it fades between blinks), the ragged breathing of two fae in their ears, and a word related to the ship stolen from their minds to be replaced with another: 'Noanga'.

Not that the crew has time to question Navi-No about this: they have new faces to deal with.

And... they too have a 'gift', again. It's the same as the new arrivals.

(OOC Note: The word is mod determined and part of the mystery of the Noanga.)

New Arrivals

You remember giggles, a touch of the faerie, the glimpse of a glimpse of figures, and the faint, indescribable words whispered in your ear. Then, between one blink and the next, you stand alongside others who share the same confused or alarmed look as you stare out at the spacious area before you. The area is the intact, gleamingly sleek bridge of a spaceship straight out of science-fiction, complete with holographic viewport taking over one wall, while gathered people mill about, including a giant robotic griffon-dragon some 23' at the shoulder.

Something tells you this is the only truly functional area to be found on the ship. That these people are the only people on the ship.

There is a weight on your dominant wrist: a fancy gold bangle that cannot be removed by any means. While it isn’t a brand, it does feel like a mark of something, and soon enough you notice that each bangle has one large jewel. Each jewel is one of three colours. Heliodor Green, Spinel Purple, and Zircon Blue.

Finally, you see a somewhat friendly looking AI hovering before you. It dips then does a delighted twirl with another dip at the end.

"Greetings, Invited! I am the Ship's Pilot, a Navigational Artificial Vector Interface – Noanga's Operator. Call me Navi-No of the Noanga." The mechanised voice is distinctly that of a generic British Butler and about as chipper. "It looks like you're trying to figure things out. I'd be delighted to provide assistance: I see you're all sporting some rather fetching bangles. Are you perhaps wondering about those?"

No. Not a Space Butler. It's Space Clip-It given a body, and, as you will very soon discover, about as accurate as Chat-GPT is.

And it's your (armed) pilot.

And, you also notice a that you are wearing, over your existing clothes, some strange, glittery, ice-cream themed woolen jumper you don't recall putting on. It's actually really fluffy and perfectly warm!

Oh, and you have some kind of pendant around your neck. The stone is your favourite colour.

Claim quarters

The first order of business is survival. Or at least finding a room for yourself. Luckily, there's plenty to pick from! Big and small, shaped for creatures who once measured from a child-sized three feet to titans towering at forty. Some rooms remain intact, dim but liveable. Others are half-eaten by dereliction: doors jammed, walls bowed inward, ventilation systems coughing dust. To claim room is to gamble: Will you risk wandering deep into the forgotten corridors or skirt the truly derelict zones for something grander, or settle for what’s close and known?

Exploring the Noanga

Once, the Noanga must have been a marvel of engineering and technology. Once. But now it's now it is a semi-derelict thing that travels the stars while some strange life clings and renders it somehow still liveable, though the Bangles will beep warnings when a character strays from the liveable sections.

The ship smells faintly of ozone, rust, and the synthetic tang of recycled air. Everything feels lived-in yet long abandoned.

Yet despite its state, there's lots to do and find, even without being able to get into the engines or control the bridge.

Chose Your Own Horror

Maybe you want to go deeper into the ship!

The deeper you go, the more likely you’ll encounter unstable gravity, radiation leaks, or things that have made themselves at home during the long years. Ignore the Bangle's warnings and wander too far into the dereliction, and they will shriek. The oxygen mix is wrong, the temperature too low, or the gravity plates stutter, leaving pockets of crushing or weightless voids.

Or worse.

Note: Anything found within the danger zones will not follow characters back into the safe areas. It's almost like they can't...

Perfect.... Ice-cream??????

SOMEHOW, the only thing the replicators wish to serve for the next few days is ice-cream themed anything. It tastes just like home - like a parent or guardian got it for you, but that is probably just your imagination and nothing to worry about. Everything's fine.

Ice cream makes things better and it's not weird at all that it tastes like home. Stop poking the replicator. It won't help.

... It's probably best you don't think too hard about this. That you just enjoy it.

Veterans of the Noanga will know that things are Very Likely Not Fine, more so when Navi-No shrugs and answers in ice-themed puns that don't answer anything outside end you on a wild chase across the ship that ends in you finding a Special Rock that you now just have to keep on your person.

Wooly Mayhem!

Wool. Wool. Wooly wooly wool. There's bales of it around the ship, but not all of it wants to stay in the bales. Some has somehow spread all over the place. In your hair, in your food. On the walls. In your rooms. Especially in your rooms.

In the aquarium?!? Though, now it's just a sad soggy mess that needs to be repeatedly fished out. Best to toss that out an airlock or something.

It's like someone unleashed a wool bomb on the ship. Or... maybe there are sheep? There seems to be faint baa'ing now and again and it's coming from... your rooms?

Oh. And there's also hay bales, too. Lots, and lots of hay bales.

((Note: there are no real sheep, at least. Unless you really want a real sheep and all that entails?)

Make your own location.

What it says on the tin! Want a gym? Pools? Indoor rock climbing? Sure! Go for it! The skies the limit.

code bases by tricklet

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Give me just one word (closed to Aen’kae)
Day was incredible happy at Aen’kae reciprocating his feelings, beaming at every little touch and usually following them up with a quick kiss, as long as there was no indication of that being unwanted. For Aen’kae he was trying to get used to the medbay, so they could spend more time together – though with the new additions that was going badly, could he at best sit close by the door with his knitting for an hour.

That was however still enough to notice that something was wrong, that his boyfriend was more anxious than usual. He’d given it bit before bringing it up, to make sure it wasn’t just a mood, but eventually he waited till the other boy came home and sat him down with a cup of tea. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently. “You’ve gotten more anxious lately. I understand before, when the medbay barely had anything in it, but now?”

My Walden (OTA)
In his forest, it was winter. A time where many creatures slept, where snow muffled sound, where everything seemed quieter. And just because it was a world away, this still reflected back on Day, having him sleep longer, be quieter, slower. Nothing to worry about, though still different enough to be noticeable.

So you might find him in the jungle, just lying on the ground, staring up into the canopy with a dreamy gaze. Or sitting under a tree, blanket wrapped around him, listening to all the little sounds of nature.

Of course he’s also actually working out here. The actual planting and choosing seeds he’ll leave to others who know better than him, but he will find overgrown gardening beds and clear the stone edges of grass, so others can find them better. Mark trees he recognizes as having edible fruit with a sash of cloth. Find the old paths and work on clearing them, by rearranging vines, braiding bushes into neater edges, tying young branches aside. Day feels that the jungle isn’t too happy about being brought back to order, something he expected. His own forest was no better, it’s why he is starting with such low invasive actions, avoiding cutting and digging.

Spreading my wings (OTA)
There is one thing he hasn’t tried in the months before, finding excuses – flying. But now there’s a new ability manifesting that should help, one he hasn’t told anyone else about yet. Perhaps it won’t be forever, so better to use it while it lasts.

He hasn’t told anyone of this attempt. Either it works and then he can still go to his friends for help with practice… or it won’t and he gets hurt, in which case it’ll be better if the fault is his alone. Either way he has scaled the rock climbing wall and is now standing at the top, wings spread out, gathering the courage to jump.

Perhaps you don’t know of this, misunderstand and intend to stop him. Perhaps you’re worrying that this wings could not carry him without magic aid or recognize the shape of them as made for soaring, a lack of wind. Or you’re just concerned that the room will not be big enough to spare him a crash into the walls.

Arrival

This slender young man has a dreamy look on his face when he arrives. For a split second. Then his eyes widen, he looks around wildly, and down at himself. With a strangled cry he removes the sweater and tears at the pendant (set with a clear plain stone) and the Bangle on his wrist. He looks ready to start hyperventilating at any second.

And he would be, if he needed to breathe for anything but disguise. One minute, he had been staring at the Valley of the Lost, watching for any signs that his companions had overcome the evil of the place so he could go find them. Then- he couldn't quite remember, but he felt strange voices in his ears. Ones gentler and happier than any he's heard before; they feel comforting. The next... he's in this strange room. This giant strange room- he's only ever seen ones as big and bright in the Factory, where (what he knew now) horrible things happened to humans unfortunate enough to be brought there. He's surrounded by others, and- and so many of them aren't human. To top it all off, his clothing- has changed. He has a new thick shirt, and, very worryingly, new jewelry. The shirt comes off easily enough, but the accessories- some new invention of the Shadow Lord to control people? Everyone else seems to be wearing them as well- remain where they are.

He sobs and moves as far away from the others as he can, trembling and starting to tear up. It's not even feigned; he's as scared as he's ever been, other than when facing imminent death, and he is utterly confused on top of it. What happened to me? Where am I? Who are these people? What are they? What will happen to me now?

"Wh-where is this? How- how did I get here?" he asks in a strangled voice. He hopes the others will answer, and with something other than an attack. Even them being as confused as he is would be some relief. Unless this is the doing of the Shadow Lord... Something he had never heard of, could not prepare for, could not prepare anyone else for. That thought makes the tears fall.

Claiming quarters

The others- thankfully, ones who had been here for a while, had not been harmed, and at least somewhat familiar with the situation- had explained enough to calm him down, they encouraged him to find a place to sleep. Of course, it would be expected, and they had no way to know he didn't sleep. They referred to choosing whichever room he wanted, but made no mention of which ones were full, which ones were occupied by tight-knit groups that wouldn't want someone new barging in.

Still, he nodded as if he understood and was comfortable with the idea and headed the way they indicated, timidly opening the first door. The room inside was small, comfortably furnished- and only had one bed.

He stares for a second. Only one? Certainly the room was small, but it could fit at least two straw mattresses. Why were they not putting as many people as possible together? Even the finest inn rooms had beds for more than one, and he'd never even been in one as a human. This- was unprecedented luxury.

Was every room the same? He exits and opens the next door. It's similar, but clearly also claimed, with someone's personal effects scattered around. Not stowed away for the convenience of others. Again and again he finds the same thing. Eventually the rooms start to change, looking as if they have been left abandoned for a long time and started falling into disrepair. He turns back to the cleaner sleeping rooms, wondering how many this place could hold when it was full and clean.

A thought occurs to him and he darts into a random unclaimed room. He shuts the door, checks for any observers, then assumes his true form, white billowing out. At least he can transform. And it seems he'll have plenty of privacy and opportunities to do so. For the first time in over a year. The thought makes him giddy- until he takes a good look at his body. The Shadow Lord's brand is still there as his heart, as expected. But- the bracelet had not dropped off his changed arm. It seemed to have changed with his form, becoming a gold circle with a blue mark on one white wrist. The pendant- had strangely not changed at all, but it was still around his neck. Somehow.

What is this magic? What does it me? He shivers, form trembling. Then he pulls himself together, back into his human form, and exits, not letting his unsettling thoughts show on his face. Looking as if he's just confused about what he's supposed to do now.

Others had mentioned that there was a jungle on the... "ship" they were all on, but he had trouble believing it. This was some sort of building, and no forest of any size could survive indoors. He went looking for it, expecting to only see a few plants in pots, and is stunned when he enters and it's as wild as any place he's seen in Deltora.

He walks slowly through, staring at every tree and every creature, trying to identify them. Most are unfamiliar, though. It would be thrilling, to have the opportunity to learn so much, but in this strange unsafe ship surrounded by strangers...

When he comes across a tree with a cloth tied around it, he's confused. Who put it there and why? He continues and sees another. It's different, but what they have in common is that they both bear fruit. Is that the case for all of the marked trees, or are they marking a path? He continues, going from cloth to cloth, wondering what he'll find and ready to run if it seems dangerous.

It's hard to believe, isn't it? Though for how big of a space it is, he still feels it's too small, that it leaves him too aware of the walls, the artificial light. He misses real sunsets, real weather. This here is the closest to home, still, so it's where he spends a lot of time.

Today that means trying to find all of what must have been a cove of fruit trees once, inspecting one tree after another and loosely tying a sash around those that do. "Of course there's still no peaches" he mutters more to himself. "And you - are you just not ready yet or were you here just to look pretty?" Day talks to the trees as if they were his own, not expecting answers.

Dain ducks behind a tree as soon as he spots something human-sized. It does seem to be a human boy, about the same age that he appears to be, but- he has extra features. Wings and antlers. Most humans with- additions, that he has seen, have been the results of the Shadow Lord's experiments. But- those were usually in some way dangerous, and while the wings could be used to get the boy airborne, the antlers look more decorative then deadly.

Even more curious, as he watches, the boy seems to be talking to nobody. Or- to the trees? Every time he says something, he is near a new tree. With a pang of loneliness he's reminded of Jasmine and how she would ask the trees about dangers. He decides to stay hidden for now. If the boy is talking to the trees, and they talk back, they should warn him that he has company.

The wings have become a natural extension of him, but he still keeps them folded on his back most of the time. Spares him a coat. There's the plant-tattoos too, shimmering slightly like snake scales. Hiding the scars on his arms.

It's not exactly this trees that warn him, but his own magic, years of experience. Day knows he has no weapons on him - not after that disaster with the pirates - only carrying a pocket knife for tasks. Still, since Dain doesn't seem to attack him, he won't turn towards him either, leave it a choice. Just talk. "I'm not going to hurt you." he addresses no one in particular. "If you're lost, there's a path by the apple tree with a blue sash. A bit overgrown, but it'll lead you back to a hallway."

Dain jumps as if startled and takes a step back. Inwardly he's not as nervous as he acts. He was expecting to be detected. And if what- well, everyone so far has told him, nobody on this "ship" was inclined to hurt a stranger, especially one that seemed harmless. It felt so alien, coming from a kingdom where danger lurked everywhere and trust misplaced could get you killed... But everything else was alien as well. Why should it not have safer people as well?

"H-how did you know I was here?" he asks in a low shaking voice.

Ah, one of the easily frightened sort. Can't blame him for that. "I have ears, for a start." Day gives a small laugh, turns in Dains direction - but no coming closer, leaning against a tree to show he has no intention of doing so. "And experience being watched. Well, and a bit of magic."

He lets his eyes widen. "What- what sort of magic?" he whispers with trepidation. As if magic should be assumed to be dangerous unless told otherwise.

Loki's at the foot of the rock climbing wall, looking up at Day with a slight smirk. How did he know to come? Let's just say god magic, or a sixth sense for opportunities for mischief.

Day shrugs a little. "Mine. It was a gift, pieces from lots of different beings that cared to keep me safe." And it hadn't gotten any easier to explain.

He doesn't mind an audience - at the very least it means someone will be there to help. This is a bit high to fall from, even for him, though he figures that the wings should slow him enough to not die if it goes wrong.

Still, only one way to find out: Day jumps. Wings spread wide and for a moment it seems enough to hold him, gliding forwards some meters. Just not enough wind and him not having the instincts of a bird, so he ends up tumbling down, falling into the old instincts of relaxing to catch a fall, closing his wings. Takes a moment to remember that third thing, focus on floating. Slowing down noticeable, setting down on the ground as if he'd only stepped off a small height.

Loki applauds. It's only slightly sarcastic. "Not bad. Was that your first attempt?"

The kid nods slightly. "Everyone keeps saying I should be able to, so..." Day isn't half as confident about it, but he knows that's just another result of Republics teachings.

"You appear to have more than simple flight," he remarks. "Perhaps you should try going up from the ground, then return to traditional flight."

Edited 2026-03-04 04:50 (UTC)

He bites his lip. It's... a beautiful story, if true. "Who were those beings? Why did they want- need- to keep you safe?"

One would think after going through this routine a couple of times now, Donnie would be used to it.

No, he really kind of hates these mandatory summons to the bridge. But at least it allows him a chance to see what other unfortunate souls have been pulled into this mess, ever anxious of the possibility that yet someone else familiar might appear.

There doesn't seem to be any this time, but there's still new arrivals all the same, and one of them doesn't seem to be taking it very well. But who can really blame them?

The teenage turtle approaches once he's tugged off the latest offending sweater. Very rarely does he wear sweaters at all, and while this isn't nearly as hideous as the last thing they were forced into, he could do without the glitter. He idly fingers the pendant around his neck, not really trusting it either, but at least they got the color right this time.

"This rundown rig is the Noanga. And like all of us here, you have been "invited"," he says, bringing up his black hands to make air-quotes. "I'd say welcome aboard but no one really wanted to be here." Sorry, he is not the best welcoming committee.

Definitely not the best welcoming committee. Dain's dark eyes go as wide as saucers and he stops tugging at the jewelry just long enough to scrabble backwards. "What are you?! he shrieks.

Of course, inwardly he's assessing this... new being. It resembles... well, a turtle, but human-sized. With natural armor thanks to its shell, hard to stab through if he needed to. If he even could; it talked, like a person, and he can't harm people, other than the Shadow Lord's servants. The words- they could be comfort, or a threat. Nobody wants to be here; that might mean that the stronger will take out their frustrations on the weaker. "Bullies", as Doom described Jinks, or worse... like the slaves back at the Shadowlands.

"At least two gods, a dragon moth, the trees, star deer, the bathroom cowboy, the kelpies..." He can't count them all, never asked the details. "Just whatever lives in the forest that wanted to be part of it. I got to be safe from my friends and they got a Warden. Someone to mediate, who is a little of everything."

"But it's gliding wings. They need a draft." The floating is too new magic for him to grasp that floating is basically flying. Especially if one has the limbs to support it further.

"....."

Yeah, color Donnie unimpressed. That sort of response does sting a bit, especially when he's gotten so used to people either assuming he's a Turtlekin or just used to weirdness. his brow furrows, and he folds his arms as he gives the guy a critical eye.

Getting stabbed in the back by someone isn't something he'd ever really thought to worry about, so he's blissfully unaware of Dain's assessment although he'd feel vindicated in wearing his battle shell almost all the time these days, glad his newest one isn't as bulky and fits comfortably over his natural soft shell.

He sighs- loudly, deciding not to count the exclamation as an actual question.

"Anyway, if you're going to be freaking out left and right about everything here, then you'd better get used to the weirdness. The Fae aren't very predictable...as you have seen," he points out, gesturing loosely around them. His bangle clanks against the stone of his skin, making him frown.

"Right. These things? Don't ignore them if they start making noise at you, most likely you've wandered- if you care to wander- somewhere dangerous that may possibly not support life."

Inwardly Dain winces. The accusatory scream might have been too much, he'd thought so at the time... He could easily imagine a human ignorant of Ols reacting the same way if they saw him changing shape, or in his real form. And of course, any who knew what he was would take the sight as a sign to strike for his heart, and with nearly any other Ol, that would be the correct choice.

But he can't let any of that show on his face. He's supposed to be a human now, and one entirely unfamiliar with all this strangeness. Which is even half true, he thinks ruefully.

"What are the fae?" he whispers fiercely. "Some new twisted creations of the Shadow Lord?" The fear and venom in his voice are real enough, though he's- hoping, that the answer will be a denial.

He looks down at the unfamiliar bracelet fearfully, suspiciously. "What will it do to us if we ignore it? Burn off our hand?"

"Shadow Lord?" Donnie echoes, confusion coloring his expression. "Well, I guess I wouldn't be surprised if one of them adopted such an ostentatious title. They're a magical...race? Species? Anyway, Fae covers a vast type of magically-specialized peoples and creatures with the penchant to pull tricks on people and use them as a source of entertainment."

He taps a finger against his chin. "Pretty sure you just die," he says flatly. "Or pass out if you're lucky someone comes around to drag your sorry carcass to a safer area." Totally not speaking from experience there, nope!

Dain gapes at the large turtle being. "How can you not know the Shadow Lord? He- he is immortal! He rules all of Deltora! There are none who have not suffered because of his evil!" Well, there is one answer, if this isn't Deltora (or the Shadowlands), but he'd like to hear confirmation before assuming.

He ducks his head. "I will not wander," he mutters obediently. He has a hard time believing he'd be lucky enough to be found by one of the very few strangers willing to help anyone in danger and need.

"What are gods?" The word is unfamiliar. He can guess at the rest as some sort of magical creatures, but the way the boy specified that two different ones gave him power, they sounded like more than just a name of a tribe.

"Are you their king, then? A king they chose? But why would you need to be kept safe from them?"

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Arrival #4

Day | Resident

Dain | Newcomer

My Walden

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Spreading my wings

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arrival

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