Stars of the Nashira Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thenashira2025-07-15 06:35 pm
nashiramods) wrote in thenashira2025-07-15 06:35 pm
Entry tags:
June I Event Log
Who: Everyone! (That's right, even you)
What: The Nova Knights race against the enemy to locate and capture the loose Constellation first, while Maya and Hope find their way out of the Abyss.
When: June 8 - June 14
Where: Chalra City
🎶 Recommended Listening: You're Not Alone! - BanG Dream! 〈lyrics〉 ♪
june i event log
EPISODE 3: Shall We Dance? A Starlit Step in 3/4 Time!
June 8 - June 14
TIMELINE
6/8-6/12 Dowsing Machines+
6/8-6/14 Library: Shelving Project
6/10 Signal Boost
6/10 Escape: Pandora & Glimmer
6/11 Investigate: Flash Mobs
6/13 Capture: The Dancer
Nautis upgraded everyone's dowsing machines to track Constellation activity, although to mixed results so far. The Nova Knights made a lot of progress on the Library reshelving project, though, so three cheers for literacy!
On the 10th, Kalim and Natalia help Nautis send a signal through the Abyss, and while it takes everything they've got, it succeeds: thanks to the falling star pointing them home, Maya and Hope successfully escape the Abyss that night. They finally reunite with the other Nova Knights, and meet the two newly awakened Knights, the upbeat go-getter Nova Valorous and the somewhat contentious Nova Pastos.
Hope and Maya also have critical information to share on their return: they know for a fact that the art teacher Shelley Lustre is Prince Shellustria himself. They'll have to figure out what exactly to do with that information since they can't risk jeopardizing their own secret identities, but it's an important first step to learning more about the Harbingers.
On the the 11th, Cynthia and Jamil make contact with the loose Constellation via one of the many flash mobs in a park and get caught up in an ensemble show tunes-style number, confirming it is the Dancer. Thanks to their ability to absolutely Get Down, they learn exactly what they need in order to tame the Dancer and capture it so that they can return it to the Star Map.
Mutsumi and Dirk encounter the Dancer themselves on the 13th, and using what Jamil and Cynthia learned from their own encounter with the Constellation, they're able to successfully capture the Dancer after letting it play out its impulse. This takes the form of a simple waltz, for which music seems to simply manifest around them. Once one of them is fully in sync with the Dancer, the other Knight successfully captures it — and the confused crowd around them kind of just wanders off with only a vague impression of what just happened.
So not only did the Nova Knights save Niangniang last month, they've also succeeded in preventing a Constellation from falling into enemy hands and reuniting with two of their captive comrades. And they're just a little bit closer to a way to defeat the Abyss. Things are starting to look up for the Nova Knights.
The Nova Knights have also gained access to the Aquarium in the hideout, a spacious room mostly surrounded by a massive water tank, including from above. It's clear this was a place of importance on the ship, based on the small signs of ancient wear and tear, but at the moment the Aquarium's waters are empty of any fish. Perhaps that's to be expected when it's been buried underground for centuries.
The full mission results can be found here.
What: The Nova Knights race against the enemy to locate and capture the loose Constellation first, while Maya and Hope find their way out of the Abyss.
When: June 8 - June 14
Where: Chalra City
june i event log
EPISODE 3: Shall We Dance? A Starlit Step in 3/4 Time!
June 8 - June 14
TIMELINE
6/8-6/12 Dowsing Machines+
6/8-6/14 Library: Shelving Project
6/10 Signal Boost
6/10 Escape: Pandora & Glimmer
6/11 Investigate: Flash Mobs
6/13 Capture: The Dancer
Nautis upgraded everyone's dowsing machines to track Constellation activity, although to mixed results so far. The Nova Knights made a lot of progress on the Library reshelving project, though, so three cheers for literacy!
On the 10th, Kalim and Natalia help Nautis send a signal through the Abyss, and while it takes everything they've got, it succeeds: thanks to the falling star pointing them home, Maya and Hope successfully escape the Abyss that night. They finally reunite with the other Nova Knights, and meet the two newly awakened Knights, the upbeat go-getter Nova Valorous and the somewhat contentious Nova Pastos.
Hope and Maya also have critical information to share on their return: they know for a fact that the art teacher Shelley Lustre is Prince Shellustria himself. They'll have to figure out what exactly to do with that information since they can't risk jeopardizing their own secret identities, but it's an important first step to learning more about the Harbingers.
On the the 11th, Cynthia and Jamil make contact with the loose Constellation via one of the many flash mobs in a park and get caught up in an ensemble show tunes-style number, confirming it is the Dancer. Thanks to their ability to absolutely Get Down, they learn exactly what they need in order to tame the Dancer and capture it so that they can return it to the Star Map.
Mutsumi and Dirk encounter the Dancer themselves on the 13th, and using what Jamil and Cynthia learned from their own encounter with the Constellation, they're able to successfully capture the Dancer after letting it play out its impulse. This takes the form of a simple waltz, for which music seems to simply manifest around them. Once one of them is fully in sync with the Dancer, the other Knight successfully captures it — and the confused crowd around them kind of just wanders off with only a vague impression of what just happened.
So not only did the Nova Knights save Niangniang last month, they've also succeeded in preventing a Constellation from falling into enemy hands and reuniting with two of their captive comrades. And they're just a little bit closer to a way to defeat the Abyss. Things are starting to look up for the Nova Knights.
The Nova Knights have also gained access to the Aquarium in the hideout, a spacious room mostly surrounded by a massive water tank, including from above. It's clear this was a place of importance on the ship, based on the small signs of ancient wear and tear, but at the moment the Aquarium's waters are empty of any fish. Perhaps that's to be expected when it's been buried underground for centuries.
The full mission results can be found here.
SIGNAL BOOST
Re: SIGNAL BOOST
Nova Neos paused and looked at the datapads in front of her, with a blank note-book provided very thoughtfully by Nova Sunbeam. She glanced from one to the other.
The real keystone, it turned out, had been, in fact, the training manual for the royal guard. That gave her an idea of the capabilities of the Nashira-- what a ship should be expected to be able to do, not just in the fight against your average enemies, but the more important matter of the Abyss.
From there, realizing the capability, a basic primer on magic had produced results, which in turn had led to something she had much more familiarity with:
Physics.
"Most of the antennae on the Nashira are high-gain, as might be expected. Very tight connections, for long range communication. There's very few options for running up a beacon."
Her hands flash across the table, scribbling dozens of separate equations while she chatters. "We do, however, have a bit of luck. While the ship was intended to be a generation ship, it's also faster than light-- no more than one or two generations would spend time on the Nashira. But that also means it has hyperspace, which means a multi-dimensional array..."
"The trick is figuring out how, with all of this, to build or repair something that can transmit into the Abyss in a way that Nova Glimmer and Nova Pandora can detect."
Maya... Hope... I failed you before. But this is something only I can do.
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"Great!" he says cheerfully, holding out a boba and a straw from one of the shops near the arcade. "We can totally do that, right? I mean, we have a magic space computer, so..."
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"Would that it did, Sunbeam. Nautis can tell me what's operational-- what we have, but adjusting it correctly might be down to finding the physical apparatus and twisting knobs... if we're lucky. They built to last, so it can be done, but we need to determine what we have." She does, at least, take the boba tea and put it somewhere out of the way of the paper and calculations. She's not even stopping to sip it.
"-- Speaking of-- Nautis, what communication arrays do you currently have connected and operational? In Hassalean, please."
im sorry whimsical magitech bullshit is the only scifi i know how to do
"You know," Nautis says, with just the tiniest hint of a sniff in her voice, "I am a magical supercomputer. There's no need for you to be doing calculations by hand."
Rude, Natalia, that's the computer's job. But moving on! "Most of my communication arrays are offline or were irreparably damaged by the separation from the rest of the ship. Our best bet would have been the Sheliak — that was designed for sending communications through hyperspace — but most of its architecture broke apart in the...oh!"
Every screen on the console wall flashes with a little cartoon lightbulb, which then begins rotating at increasing speeds.
"The only fully functioning communication system on this ship is the Pherkad. Kind of like one of your public address systems here on Earth, but the signal isn't sonic, it's magical." What isn't, on this ship! "However, the Pherkad and the Sheliak have very similar signal processing protocols. It might require some manual patching, but it's theoretically possible to channel a subspace signal using the Pherkad system! We might run into trouble with amplification, though."
Magitech Bullshit I can bullshit! 8V
She breathes in, breathes out, and her aura pulses with Body-Temple Aspect, though it flickers and fades quickly. "And power is something I can push out in spades. Okay. We have a plan. We just have to know where to send it... And what to say."
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"Does it matter a whole lot what we say?" he asks. "Can't it just be, like, 'Hey, guys, come this way'?"
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"So it messes with your head. So we need something that won't get discarded as another hallucination."
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A few readouts on her left panel flashed, beeped, and blinked. After a second, what looks like a small receipt emerges from a slot next to the dashboard. On it is a series of symbols that look sort of like wingdings but which Natalia would recognize as symbols used in magitech energy calculations — a firing solution of sorts, based on what they've worked out so far.
"It needs to be more than just a beacon telling them to come home. They need to know it's real! So it has to pack a punch, and the best way to do that is with the power of our hearts. Which means we're going to need our top feelings-feelers on deck!"
That's you, Sunbeam!! Channel all that optimism and good vibes!
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In truth, while she's been a roiling, erratic ball of emotions over the last three weeks, almost since the moment where they restored the library, she's... not sure she can feel them on command. "So these are the energies required... All right. Let's go set the switches. the proper subspace is 140.15 phased out on 241.10, isn't it?"
(mgs alert noise)
That might be easier for Nova Neos right now than she realizes at the moment. Three cheers for raging emotions! "That's correct. I've patched the Sheliak software into the Pherkad. Ready to broadcast once those switches are set!"
Snake eater....
If above is decently homey-- if ancient and perhaps poorly maintained-- The beneath is nearly unrecognizable. Rock and mud make rooms' purpose obscure; buckled bulkheads make treacherous footholds. Mildew eats at paint and sends a horrible scent through the air.
The Nashira was clearly never meant to take such abuse, or at least, was meant to have hands aboard when she landed upon a planet.
On. Off. Off. Gain adjustment. Descent.
It takes several minutes in the guts of the place, hunting and seeking. Nearly an hours' work, even for a superhero, amongst the somewhat briny depth.
Central, this is Neos. Ready for system check. Please read back resulting frequency and subspace shift.
missed that it was my tag on this oops
Indicator lights that have lain dormant for centuries flicker back to life along some of the bulkheads, half of them obscured by grime and the weathering of age.
"Switches armed," Nautis says aloud for Sunbeam's benefit, as well as transmitting the results to Neos. "Ready for broadcast on your mark. Sunbeam, you're up!"
Lights flash on her console dashboard encouragingly. "Once we start broadcasting the signal, you're going to need to think really hard about your friends and how much you miss them! Tell them something only Nova Sunbeam would tell them!" A few more lights blink on to highlight the large, star-shaped button in the center. "If you put your hand here, I can patch it directly into the signal. It's time to bring them home!"
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She starts climbing up to the war room, as fast as she can. This won't hold long...
INVESTIGATE: FLASH MOBS
CAPTURE: THE DANCER
Re: CAPTURE: THE DANCER
She doesn't expect a whole lot of friendliness from Nova Pastos at this point, but that's fine. Cal is here, and that technically makes them three instead of two, so maybe, just maybe, they might stand a chance if they're unlucky enough to run into Prince Shellustria.
As usual, she is more or less silent under the mask, and oddly enough, her little doll shoes seem to hardly make any noise on the ground. She's got her guitar at the ready, just in case they run into trouble. She's not really expecting a lot, but still...
She starts a little as the dowsing machine in her hand starts to beep, slowly at first, but as they draw nearer the fountain it starts to pick up. She looks up at her comrades uncertainly, but in a are you seeing this shit too? kind of way.
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Anyway, while the onus of the externally-enforced buddy system (besides the buddy he's already bringing in Lil Cal) isn't something he loves, it could be a lot worse. As it is, he's only slightly irritated that Lil Cal doesn't count as his partner for that purpose. Teamwork isn't the problem. The problem is that Dirk is supremely confident in his competence and purpose, and he wants the same thing out of someone he's expected to work with. Which is a tall order when he doesn't know any of them.
The possibility that Dirk isn't as confident in his ability to support or otherwise take care of another person shall go unexamined.Of the potential matchups, Nova Mortis is one of the more welcome possibilities.
She has no clue, of course--but Nova Pastos' opinion of her is actually rather higher than it is of some of his other teammates.
Maybe he's taking this too seriously. Or maybe they're not taking it seriously enough. Maybe this mission will provide the answer.
Her attention is on the dowsing rod, so his attention is on their environment. When the beeping starts to gain some urgency, she looks up at him, though--and he finally looks at her. Impassive. But he looks at her. And nods, once.
Game on.
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A crowd seems to form on its own around the fountain, like birds coming silently into some designated formation. This time, someone seems to have manifested an electronic keyboard, and people are dancing in a much more organized and graceful manner than the flash mobs from earlier in the month — ballroom dancing in the park, one might say.
The chirping dowsing machine is unmistakable: the Dancer is here somewhere, imbuing others with its desire. They just have to find some way to draw it out. Nautis said they had to let the spirit of the Dancer inhabit them...but she hadn't specified anything beyond that.
But this is, for once, an area in which she thinks she has something to contribute: her guitar. She's not very good at communicating, but the way she looks at her guitar, then up at Nova Pastos and Cal, and back at her guitar says, Look, I'll help.
And slowly and simply at first, Nova Mortis starts picking out a soft melody in counterpoint to the song everyone has begun a ballroom waltz to as they approach. She's not sure how, but...maybe reaching out through music could be their first step.
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So what the fuck is he supposed to do?
He stands, uncertain, in the crowd--an island of a man standing immobile in a sea of swaying, circling dancers. Waiting for clarity--for inspiration, an idea, anything except well, now fucking what?
He stands there in his above-the-knee shorts and high socks and dainty crown, watching the precise steps of the swirling civilians around him. His jaw presses tight and tense, his brow (in contrast) peculiarly uncreased. It's there that it starts to creep in.
Less an idea of the mind, and more one of the body. Seeping into him through his electrical impulses and nerve endings and sinking deeper through his anticipatory energy and restlessness of an uncertain next move. Like a reflex, or an impulse. An instinct. The sensation of a choice already made--he feels it in his body and glances askance--not at Nova Mortis, but at his other partner. His real partner.
Intense and vivid orange meets uncannily bright blue.
His chest feels tight, his heart and its pulse seemingly beating counterpoint to the 3/4 time of Nova Mortis' guitar playing. His blood is hot under his skin, and Cal's weight on his shoulders feels less right suddenly--like there's a place he belongs more. Slowly--purposefully, but nonetheless slowwly--Dirk slides his long-limbed puppet bro down his arm to cradle him in the crook of his elbow, one soft plush hand held lightly in Dirk's palm. Like a beau. Like a dance partner.
His awareness of the music soaks him suddenly like a wave, and Dirk turns, once. A sweeping single step, rotating himself and his beloved doll in place. His eyes locked on Cal's, and Cal's on his. The very first movement of a strange and intimate dance.
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Watching in awe, Nova Mortis keeps playing, adding ornamentation and even richer harmony, until her guitar seems inseparable from the rest of the music. In a magical sense, it is; not only is it what the Dancer is moving to, but it surrounds the Dancer now, too, drawing in closer. Not quite a net, but a gentle embrace closing in around it, guiding it, encouraging it to keep dancing and to feel safe. She's not sure when, exactly, she's supposed to do the capturing part, but she thinks the music might tell her.
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No, that's a lie. He is perfectly aware of why he's allowing this, and what it is he's allowing. It's just so against his grain to do so, and the fact that he's still doing it is viscerally uncomfortable, a sensation felt both low in his gut and creeping around the edges of his brain.
But maybe it's not the possession that's getting to him--maybe it's the intimacy, the racing of his heart and the unique kind of elation as he takes Cal for another neat spin, his feet placed perfectly and with precision, his movements graceful in a way that wears strangely on his intense hard-guy blade-wielding persona. (Although maybe not so strangly for his costume...)
It would be easier if he could lose himself in it, but he can't. He's all too aware of himself and of what isn't himself, too aware of the bodies and the music, too aware of the pull. He wants, instinctively, to resist it. To be, once again, a solitary island standing alone and immovable amidst the flow.
But every time he starts to pull away from it, Lil Cal pulls him back.
So he keeps his eyes locked on Cal's. Even though he can't ignore the sense of something real in his muscles and nerves, something separate but alive, to make eye contact with Lil Cal--his lifelong partner, guardian, and guide--is to feel something else, something much brighter and more honest, something pure and real that's his. Even if he can't shake the alien feeling inhabiting him, with a little work, he can carve a place in himself where his own stubborn will and that sensation can meet, and that... that might just be enough.
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She can feel her dowsing machine getting hot in her pocket. It's working — something is working, anyway. She keeps playing, and the magic of each note becomes gradually more visible. Not the lace-patterned smoke of her sleep spell, but a gentle pink and white glimmering, a beckoning call. Whatever Dirk and Cal are doing is resonating with the Dancer, she can tell. They just have to keep it up a little longer...
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Whether or not he realises it (and don't worry, he does), Nova Pastos is a thinker. He's self-aware to a fault. Excruciatingly, endlessly, all-too-consciously and tortuously aware. Of himself. Of what he's doing, and thinking, and being.
His waltz is balanced precariously on a razor of knowledge: that he is waltzing, that he needs to continue walzting, and most crucially of all, that he doesn't know how to waltz.
He can't simply lose himself in Lil Cal's lovingly glassy stare forever. He has to do something--mentally, in order to keep himself from fucking this up, he has to immerse himself. He can't think about the feeling or he'll lose it. Even this thinking is starting to make the sensation fray from his nerves, his brain overtaking the impulses that started this dance.
So he thinks about dancing--but not the fact that he is dancing. He thinks about movement, but not about moving. He starts memorising, instead--learning the waltz by doing it. It's a clear rhythm, a pace and process like a ritual. The winsome sway of Cal's limbs as he turns with his beloved puppet in his arms earns a quirk at the corner of his mouth.
More pinks begin to trail from his own feet and in the wake of his lanky and plush forever friend--darker pinks, richer hues that echo the mildly absurd colours of his magical costume. One, two, three. One, two, three.
If nothing else, by the time this is all over, Nova Pastos--and Dirk Strider--will forever remember how to dance the waltz.
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She doesn't dare let her fingers stop now, her guitar encouraging the Dancer to stay with Nova Pastos and Cal, but she starts to worry about how she'll capture it. Should they have had a third person here? Should Nautis have assigned some other, more capable Knight to assist?
But no...before she can let her mind dwell on that thought, the warmth in her pocket grows hotter, then she feels it move. The dowsing machine, apparently acting on its own initiative, floats out of her pocket and into position in front of her. Eyes wide, Nova Mortis keeps playing, somehow intuiting a key change just as it happens, but her focus seems to be focusing the dowsing machine, too. With a start, she realizes she's controlling the little device with her guitar.
It's time.
The screen on the dowsing machine goes blank, then suddenly it bathes Dirk and Cal in brilliant blue light, a beckoning call to the Dancer — come home.
Don't tell him this is technically a feat of pantomime
His pulse is hot under his skin, his thoughts quickening as the idea takes shape.
It takes some planning. Some mental rehearsing. He repeats it in his head, over and over until he's ready--building his confidence, yes, but also imbuing each repetition of the dance's steps with purpose, teaching his muscles and memory what to do, and mirroring that process in his mind until he is absolutely, one-hundred-percent certain of his success (no rounding allowed.)
He thought simply keeping the dancer with him was stressful... this is somehow both easier (through self-determination) and yet more harrowing by far. He focuses on breathing, and planning.
Jesus, he can feel his heart pounding.
The reality of this process is measured in seconds--at most perhaps minutes--but the magnitude of effort is disproportionately felt, artificially lengthening and intensifying the sensation of time itself. It is a precious balancing act of anticipation, intent, and restraint.
And so, as he steps, turns, twirls, and dips his way towards Mortis, as the brilliant, warming pink of his magic grows and spreads, as Mortis's dowsing device beguins to stir--
He reverses. Twirling after the dip, his feet change places, he sweeps Cal's arms over his own, he steps back instead of forwards. Suddenly, Pastos is not waltzing with Cal--Cal is waltzing with him. No longer is Pastos the lead, but instead the led.
And as the dowsing machine beams brilliant blue over his own stunning pink--
A moment of passion, of sincerity and art. The result not only of many, many years of self-led training, but of illusions acted out in the solitude of his apartment, bestowing Cal with life.
He tilts back, balancing on one leg, the other extended almost gracefully as Cal's arms seem to support him mid-air. He does not waver. Does not fall. He maintains that perfect, precious state of balance-in-motion.
And then he's on his feet again, and the glow of pink and blue twirls together as Cal twirls him. A beautiful vortex of magicks--with a k--that for the Knight(s?) within it turns briefly blinding.
But only briefly. Up, up it spins, leaving him and Cal behind.
Still twirling, so Dancer-like, overhead.
Then, slowly and elegantly in denouement, it descends upon Mortis and her device.
ESCAPE: PANDORA & GLIMMER
[NPC] Maomao
Maomao is not happy about having awakened to her special destiny. In fact, she's pretty annoyed about it. She doesn't want anything to do with having to save the world, she just wants to live her life, but apparently that's not an option because that ancient piece of cyberjunk won't let her leave the Nova Knights group chat. At least she doesn't have to do any actual fighting. On the other hand, there is little dignity afforded to her by being the team mascot.
Her tune changed, however, when she first found out about the ancient seed collection. All the magic stuff is a hard pillow to swallow, except apparently when it comes to ancient flora from a dead planet. Now this is the only reason she regularly comes to the hideout: to fuck around with the garden in the Library and grow heretofore unknown plants so she can test them all on herself. You might even hear some unsettling laughter from the Library while she contemplates the possibilities.
Maomao is aware that hanging out in the hideout in human form breaks whatever magic protection they all have on their identities, and she doesn't love it, but it's so much better than the alternative of just being a cat all the time. People keep wanting to pick her up and feed her stuff and you couldn't pay her to voluntarily transform even one more time. And if anyone calls her Niangniang to her face, they'll get only a death glare in return.
elsewhere
Maomao can also be found at Everwave Academy during school hours, the Golden Butterfly and Verdigris House most evenings, and her father's pharmacy on some afternoons and weekends.
One Last Thing (Closed to Maya, Hope, and Dirk)
There was. One last thing Neos had to do. Even magically depleted, even dragging her sorry stone armor and her heavy boots, even exhausted to the point of barely being able to march--
Because someone had to be there.
Someone had to be there waiting for them if-- when-- they escaped the Abyss, ready to offer comfort and get them home.
And it was her fault.
So it had to be her.
It had to be.
And so she continued to drag herself to the place they were last seen, and hoped to whatever love was kind that they would show up tonight.
She honestly would have continued even if she had to crawl.
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And it should feel better than it does. Their eyes are wide, their breathing is heavy like they'd just been running for their life (which, obviously, they had), and they just want to... they just want to sit down. But they can't do that, because Maya is counting on them, and Natalia is probably counting on them or something, and... there's someone else here, too, someone they don't recognize. Someone who—Nautis already replaced you, huh? That sucks. Are you surprised?
They shut their eyes and shake their head, trying to make it look like it's just them catching their breath or their eyes adjusting to the change in light, while they hope so desperately it'll drive the thought from their head. It's not, but that's fine.
"Hey," they offer, smiling and exhaling, like it's normal, like it's all normal, like everything's okay and they're okay and they don't just want to run away and sleep for a week.
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Sitting on his arm is a doll. Or rather, a puppet. A ventriloguist's dummy, specifically--with brilliant sky blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and a gold tooth. He's bedecked in a matchingly fuchsia tunic that covers his long body and clashes horribly with the orange of his arms and legs.
And in marked contrast with Nova Pastos--whose eyes are impossible to see behind his radical triangle shades--Lil Cal stares the lost Knights directly in the eyes as they approach. Welcoming them.