A sudden, constant signal broadcast throughout space, to every planet, to every corner it could possibly reach. In its early days, no one heard it; it did not wander from signal to signal, nor did it reach to ones pre-existing. Then the signal-surfers found it, and it was shared as the curious wonder that it was. It gained many names, but the almost urban legend never shared a common one until the line itself declared a title.
What it was, or what its supposed purpose was, simply evaded those who tuned in. It was almost nonsense, at times a female voice would drone on about topics with slightly offputting perspectives, using sources and people that didn’t exist for standing. Other times it would play bizarre music for days on end, themes and tracks that either were centuries-old or seemed to be generated on the spot. Other times still, a male voice would confidently report news on events that weren’t happening, and linking patterns within them to past acts that existed within the same fictitious realm.
One astute observer once claimed that it felt like a strange, lonesome, not quite sapient AI, trying its best to replicate what it thought a radio station was. Listeners tuned in, and those who enjoyed the odd mystery listened in and described to others what they thought of it. Then, as people slowly tuned out, the signal died.
And so the interest died until the same signal-surfers found it inhabiting another line. It had changed, however, and in its new life, it would spew numbers at random intervals, along with coded transmission. The NovaLine became a game of cat and mouse, codes and secrets being deciphered by a curious group who believed it to be some sort of interactive event. It was harmless, an ARG that caught the attention of the curious and clever in the dark corners of the net.
Until it began jacking other lines. That’s when it was agreed upon that whoever was running it had gone too far. There were unspoken rules about such games, things you don’t do and people you don’t involve, and it had broken a big one. Despite the criticism of its players, the game kept going, and instead of dialing down its boldness, it only grew worse. It would hijack other lines for hours at a time for those who couldn’t afford to knock it out, and it became a nuisance for the larger figures of the Galaxy.
“I’ve heard such terrible things about you all.” It once simultaneously played on both Alliance and Taianese lines in a critical, graveled voice. “I can’t wait to meet you.”
“Maybe one day you’ll join the rest.” It declared to Gartagens. “Then you’ll see the new truths, you all will.” To the Valorians.
It’s interactions, some feared, with those who saw it as a game had only brought it further. From cleverness and curiosity, it had grown its own. “Come one, come all.” Its own line called out to the voids of space. “Where are you? Are you really there?”
Curiosity had turned to worry, and the large eyes of too many turned to this rogue transmission. Some wanted it brought to justice, others simply wanted it discarded. All the same, the result was a call to those of similar curiosity.
“Go find it, go turn it off. Find whatever you want there, just make sure the signal doesn’t come back on. You’ll be paid, and if you fail, consequences will follow.” The large players had all agreed on one thing, send the curious to turn it off before they had to waste military resources on it. A common grounds, a common target.
FIND THE NOVALINE SIGNAL.
TURN IT OFF.
This is a plot based on eldritch, horror, and character-driven things. Paranormal and lovecraftian influence will be heavily present in this plot.
Combat is possible but is not a major aspect of the plot. The characters, who they are, what they believe, and what they do will have large effects on the plot as a whole.
Character death is not something that will happen unless requested, agreed upon, or otherwise forewarned about.
In essence what is to be understood is that the NovaLine signal, mentioned above, has been causing issues for people, so they've agreed to send a group of paid explorers to figure out who's sending it, why, and to turn it off. Every faction has reason to want it gone, and many have reason to want to know how it works, practically everybody from every corner is welcome, but some things should be known.
Your character can come in with quite a lot on them, but for a majority of the plot their access to outside help and communication is likely to be limited at best.
This plot is more than just an exploration of the eldritch, it's about the people involved.
Please let me know below if you're interested in such a plot.
Come the day of launch, the NovaLine signal was as busy as ever, chattering to itself in the way that only the rogue signal could. Most of it was garbled, non-sequiturs and irrelevant streams of information, data, and code. But, the moment the IC Aphelion took off, breaking atmosphere and beginning its warp to its destination, something came through, something pure and understandable. Three words in the common language, a gruff male voice speaking in tandem with a low female one.
"I found you."
I'm really happy to see that people are interested in this! I'll definitely be getting this more up and running shortly. I'll keep you all updated, so please get whatever characters you're interested in running up and ready to go! I'll get an IC thread up and running as soon as I can. All of you are absolutely welcome to join
my character ill bring
I'm imagining she's just coming in some sweats rather than her space pirate queen outfit since she's bored and looking for something to relax to.