The Shimmer Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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theshimmer2020-07-18 12:17 am
shimmermods) wrote in theshimmer2020-07-18 12:17 am
Welcome.
WELCOME
The Shimmer is beautiful.
There are a lot of things that may or may not have been expected upon your arrival here – the walls of concrete and steel, the others that were brought here with you, the others that weren't brought here with you but have been a constant source of information and instruction and blatant, brazen surveillance – but the fact remains that this world does not seem, inherently, to be an unkind one. Foreign in some ways, perhaps familiar in others; either way, it's a world teeming with life, and with people, and perhaps most jarringly it's a world with beauty, and nothing you've seen otherwise is quite as repulsively and grotesquely beautiful as the Shimmer.
It defies desription, really; the boundaries of it are barely visible during the day, just a thin iridescent sheen encompassing the trees and thick-growing vegetation of the mountains, sweeping ever-closer and closer still to the boundaries of the compound you've been living in but are greatly unlikely to have come to call home. It cascades heavily down the face of the mountain, nestling into the tops of trees before it swallows them whole, arcing up into the sky so far that it hurts your eyes to try to find the crest. It seems almost ravenous in its grace; whatever it touches, it seems to consume.
At night, it's a different matter; it glows and dances in defiance of the bright lights of the compound, glistening bright like the Northern lights - a bit too low to the ground, a bit too far south, a bit too warm this time of year, but the effect is breathtaking. All the colors of the borealis seem to blink lazily at you as they twist in and out of view, sparkling scattershot among the remnants of a town about two miles off that has long since gone dark with abandonment and disuse.
Your mission begins tomorrow.
Your mission begins tomorrow and maybe you're ready for it, maybe you aren't; maybe you're trying not to think about it too much. But the fact of the matter is that there's a rooftop observation deck, open-air and about five stories off the ground, and it's granting you an optimal view of the surroundings and the Shimmer and that darkened town not too far off, and there are no other buildings around for miles. The air is balmy and humid, a little too warm to be pleasant but lacking the roiling heat of the day, a light breeze rendering the entire thing an acceptable respite from the training grounds within the building itself. The only sound this high up and this close to the Shimmer are those made by the people who are here with you – some you know, some you don't. Some are more recent arrivals than others; some have been here for just as long as you. You've all had information taken down about you, the results of which have been provided to you on a small device you found in your room, so perhaps it feels as though you know these people already.
Either way, the night is young, the sun having dipped below the horizon less than half an hour ago, leaving you with perimeter lights that are too bright and the ever-present, watchful glow of the Shimmer; there are tables set up around the balcony for you to use, to eat or socialize or just...sit. You haven't been deprived by any means, but the food that's been provided out here for you tonight is noticeably better than usual; perhaps they know it's the last time you'll eat well for a while. Perhaps it's an apology. Perhaps it's nothing to look into too deeply.
Feel free to stay out here for as long as you like; enjoy each other's company. Or don't let yourself enjoy it too much; it's up to you.
However you choose to do it, perhaps it's best to make sure you have no regrets.
There are a lot of things that may or may not have been expected upon your arrival here – the walls of concrete and steel, the others that were brought here with you, the others that weren't brought here with you but have been a constant source of information and instruction and blatant, brazen surveillance – but the fact remains that this world does not seem, inherently, to be an unkind one. Foreign in some ways, perhaps familiar in others; either way, it's a world teeming with life, and with people, and perhaps most jarringly it's a world with beauty, and nothing you've seen otherwise is quite as repulsively and grotesquely beautiful as the Shimmer.
It defies desription, really; the boundaries of it are barely visible during the day, just a thin iridescent sheen encompassing the trees and thick-growing vegetation of the mountains, sweeping ever-closer and closer still to the boundaries of the compound you've been living in but are greatly unlikely to have come to call home. It cascades heavily down the face of the mountain, nestling into the tops of trees before it swallows them whole, arcing up into the sky so far that it hurts your eyes to try to find the crest. It seems almost ravenous in its grace; whatever it touches, it seems to consume.
At night, it's a different matter; it glows and dances in defiance of the bright lights of the compound, glistening bright like the Northern lights - a bit too low to the ground, a bit too far south, a bit too warm this time of year, but the effect is breathtaking. All the colors of the borealis seem to blink lazily at you as they twist in and out of view, sparkling scattershot among the remnants of a town about two miles off that has long since gone dark with abandonment and disuse.
Your mission begins tomorrow.
Your mission begins tomorrow and maybe you're ready for it, maybe you aren't; maybe you're trying not to think about it too much. But the fact of the matter is that there's a rooftop observation deck, open-air and about five stories off the ground, and it's granting you an optimal view of the surroundings and the Shimmer and that darkened town not too far off, and there are no other buildings around for miles. The air is balmy and humid, a little too warm to be pleasant but lacking the roiling heat of the day, a light breeze rendering the entire thing an acceptable respite from the training grounds within the building itself. The only sound this high up and this close to the Shimmer are those made by the people who are here with you – some you know, some you don't. Some are more recent arrivals than others; some have been here for just as long as you. You've all had information taken down about you, the results of which have been provided to you on a small device you found in your room, so perhaps it feels as though you know these people already.
Either way, the night is young, the sun having dipped below the horizon less than half an hour ago, leaving you with perimeter lights that are too bright and the ever-present, watchful glow of the Shimmer; there are tables set up around the balcony for you to use, to eat or socialize or just...sit. You haven't been deprived by any means, but the food that's been provided out here for you tonight is noticeably better than usual; perhaps they know it's the last time you'll eat well for a while. Perhaps it's an apology. Perhaps it's nothing to look into too deeply.
Feel free to stay out here for as long as you like; enjoy each other's company. Or don't let yourself enjoy it too much; it's up to you.
However you choose to do it, perhaps it's best to make sure you have no regrets.
Railing
It is somewhat difficult to say, really. I feel like events back home have somewhat skewed my estimation of what sorts of situations are survivable, so I suppose I’ll stick to hoping for the best and planning for the worst.
[Then again, he isn’t really sure if “that time we fought a dragon while a city was on fire and a bunch of goddamn magic robots were on our ass” is really comparable to the current mission...]
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[He shrugs a little; he doesn't seem bothered, just kind of...not really the sort to be optimistic about goddamn anything.]
Though I admit most of my experience with shit that's likely to kill you is in war. Kind of different to this whole...wandering facefirst into the unknown thing.
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[...Granted, he's fucked in the head.]
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[He had more of a stomach for war than some of his colleagues, certainly, but he didn’t really take joy in it.
Except for the crit lines, but you know. Everyone gets a little metal in the crit lines.]
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Oh, right! It’s a bit difficult to get used to the idea that they do not exist in every world... but then again, they are unique to Fódlan even within our world, so perhaps I should not be so surprised. So I suppose I’ll have to give you the crash course! ...hopefully I can finish the explanation before tomorrow, we likely need to get some rest tonight...
Ahem. In any case, crests are essentially inherited power. They have various effects depending on the crest in question, such as increased strength, superior reaction time, increased magical potency... those sorts of things. They were once thought to be blessings of the Goddess, but numerous recent discoveries have thrown the theological explanation into serious doubt. Of course, that means their mysteries are entirely solvable, one way or another... and, given that I have always suspected as much, I have dedicated my life to that pursuit.
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So what are you planning on doing once you've cracked the code over there?
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