THE FRACTURED WORLD: ARRIVAL

[modormenace]

 

A

rrival for some goes all but unnoticed. It's a sudden shiver, the sensation of being watched... and then nothing at all. Life continues serenely as it always has. The only indication of any change comes with sleep, wrapped in dreams: vague and distant echo imagery of another life, melting away in the morning.

 

F

or others, arrival is a sharp jolt. In the space of a single blink, they find themselves in an unfamiliar world, surrounded by the trappings of a life they have not lived. They are replacements, spirits taking possession of bodies belonging to people very much like themselves...

 

A

nd for the rest, arrival is a procedure. Routine. Those ported in to the Fractured World wake hazily in the comfortably dim light of the Porter room, laid out on an exam table. Their wounds, if they remember having any, have been healed— and even those who remember their own deaths find themselves miraculously restored. As they regain consciousness, an automatic audio-visual presentation is triggered. Regardless of their backgrounds or physiology, all imPorts 'see' and 'hear' this message as if in their own language:

"Greetings, imPort."

The voice is calm and gently authoritative, almost certainly selected by committee.

"On behalf of the Synod and all imPorts it represents, we welcome you to the planet Earth."

A decidedly non-humanoid robotic arm holds out a palm-sized device and rather insistently demands the new arrival take it. This is the imPort's comm, used for accessing the Porter's database of information, as well as the communications Network— though it won't receive communications from outside the Porter building until carried through one of the many Gates set up in a long, crescent-shaped array on the far side of the room.

As each Gate is approached, information about the faction it leads to flashes up on the comm device's screen. Which will you choose?

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Comments

[timestones]

My condolences.

[The incredibly dry way he says that probably makes it hard to tell if he's joking or not and he's certainly not going to say otherwise.]

And what about it makes that irritating? You think that because he's been a part of most of your life that you should be part of his?

[dragony]

[ She can't help the immediate reaction: her nose scrunches and her lips pull back in a grimace, as though suddenly biting into something citric, sour and rotten. ]

Not when you put it like that. Eugh. [ He's so old. She doesn't need substitute parents or anything of the sort. Hard pass. ] No, I meant more like... if you live somewhere with seasonal flooding, you wanna know which seasons have the floods and which ones are dry. Or, like, earthquakes. That kind of thing.

You want to know because it affects you.

[timestones]

[In turn, Stephen's head tilts slightly and he squints one eye like he's trying to parse the metaphor.]

The last thing Stark needs is someone comparing him to something as grand and overarching as seasonal changes. A natural disaster, maybe, but even then that's pushing it.

But even if you know each year will have a monsoon season, you can't know how hard it'll rain, or what it'll do to which rivers, if banks will break, where floods will flow. It honestly wouldn't matter if you knew him as well as his wife, those aren't things you'd be able to anticipate.

[A wry little smile briefly crosses his face.]

I promise you, you could watch Stark go through the same moment tens of millions of times and every single one he'd do something different.

[dragony]

You think I'd say something like that to his face? I'm not that dumb.

[ She's young, and from what she's gathered, this-her isn't involved in the political machine — and she's seen how she talks. She's allowed to be a little bit teasing-mean. Honestly, it probably helps his image to have someone like her be out of pocket. ]

It's hard to imagine having the patience for that kinda thing, though. Watching one person go through the same thing over and over again.

[timestones]

[Stephen makes a slight face with an upward flick of his eyes, not looking to comment either way on what he thinks Ruka would or wouldn't do; he doesn't know her that well.]

It'd be a form of torture, I'm sure. But I'm speaking figuratively, not as a directive or a recommendation.

I mean, seriously, can you think of anything worse than groundhog day with Tony Stark?

[Maybe hanging out for a mini-murder eternity with an all-power trans-dimensional life form. Maybe that's worse. Jury is out.]

[dragony]

[ The specificity catches her off-guard.

It shouldn't; if heart and memory always worked in orderly, logical ways, it wouldn't. But, can you think of anything worse, and of course she recalls worse: the looping 'groundhog day' that ended and reset, over and over, in the cumulative agony of a city wiped off the map in a nuclear blast — and hastily drawn back on to repeat the cycle. Anything worse, and she thinks of something halfway shrouded, the waterfall downpour of seven billion regrets, and a world dying beneath her feet. Anything worse, and... the list goes on.

It was meant to be a joke, she knows, but for a moment her throat is too dry to answer, and her focus pulled too far outward, too far inward, to remain in the present moment. ]

... A few things come to mind, [ she says, finally, a little wane. With effort she shrugs, and crosses her arms, and forces a smile through it. It's probably not very convincing. ] But that's top ten, for sure.