PSIOHEMATIC: STAGE 1

The ocean rages high above Ulysses. Rough storms like these make it impossible for any watercraft to approach the ocean platforms she calls home, necessitating underwater docks like these. The air is cold. Even with her thick yellow cloak, the ocean water seems to suck the heat out of the vast room, cold air prickling through her uniform. She feels uncomfortable; a combination of the temperature, anticipation, and the unnatural pressure required to maintain a waterline this far below the surface.
Beams of sunlight refract through the windows on top of the moon pool, illuminating the watercraft sitting in the dock. Ulysses looks across at it, admiring the engineering. A sleek vessel plated in pale ceramic, designed to avoid the waves by coasting just under the surface of the water - it's built to withstand storms like the one the archology is facing this week. These vast ocean platforms have seen far worse weather over the centuries, and a strong tide and a bit of rain will go almost entirely unnoticed by the people that live here.
Ulysses glances at her timepiece; Ingram is late. She supposes not much has changed. It is currently 12:47, the ferry is due to depart at 13:00, and as such they agreed to meet at least 15 minutes in advance at 12:45. Ulysses has been waiting here for 26 minutes now.
[ulysses talks to ingram about hating work, hating leaving]
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She usually starts work at 10:00, and her office job rarely demands her to be out somewhere so cold and wet for so long. [[rework into dialogue?]]
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She's about to step onto the ramp when a voice calls out.
"Ulysses?"
"Ingram." Her voice betrays a slight irritance but her hum must be shouting it, because for a moment he looks unsettled.
He wears the same uniform she does: an off white shirt with dull red trousers, covered by a dusty blue cloak and matching blue gaitors. A white beret adorns his head, denoting his status as a coordinator, and Black Nail hangs sheathed on his hip, the same black sword he's always carried as long as Ulysses has known him.
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They sit in front of a round window on opposite rows, a comfortable diagonal away from each other. Minutes pass, but neither one utters a word until the ferry starts moving, pulling away from the port with a soft rumble. Ulysses had brought a book, but can't bring herself to open her bag and fetch it. It feels rude somehow.
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[It's been almost 2 years now, why doesn't this feel normal?] She tries to suppress her Hum, but Ingram doesn't seem to notice. She looks dead at him; scanning his face, watching his eyes gaze into the sea. Little has changed since she last saw him. Nothing about his hair is different - he still wears the same long braid, just a little longer now, but the patch of hair on his chin has grown out into a small beard. She thinks it makes him look more mature.
"How's the uh, blood going" She says, awkwardly louder than she intended. He looks across at her. [You're wearing more than I expected.]
"Oh, right." He seems to have picked up what she meant from her hum. "Yeah it's going alright. Not been long enough for my body temperature to jump up yet, so I'm still wearing the same old uniform."
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[[witch/powers issues]]
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"Hey there's benefits though, at least you get the full breifings now?"
"Yeah, it's nice. I think I liked not knowing though, this feels like more pressure. I keep overthinking it." He replies, unreassuringly. "Hey, how much did they tell you then?" Ingram asks, leaning forward.
"Uh, well, I know we're going through the conflict zone to deliver something, but I don't know what. I know we're due a 4 day round trip, but I don't know the route, just that we're getting on a train after this." Ulysses replies. She fiddles with her horns and looks towards nothing in particular. "We're clearly moving through some heavy Dameon territory, otherwise they wouldn't be so worried about mental bleed. I'd say it must be something urgent if we're being rushed through the conflict zone, but it can't be that important or they would have given us more kit, or more manpower at the very least."
Ingram's face gives little away - perhaps a slightly defeated look.
"Or maybe the fork just has us spread that thin?" She continues. "Don't want to think about it."
Ulysses sinks back on her chair. She's always struggled to read him; now with the total lack of hum it seems entirely impossible.
"We're picking up one more after this ferry though." Ingram holds 3 fingers up.
"The scout, yeah I remember. Have you met him yet?"
"Nope. We're borrowing her from the ESB. It'll be good to have somebody who's actually familiar navigating the mainland."
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[journey passes, ferry arrives]

The sun is already starting to set as the ferry emerges in a large dock, walled off from the sea except for a set of narrow entry-ways, and flanked on all other sides by steep hills and tall buildings that seem to stack in layers on top of one other. These structures extend back into the cliffs themselves, leaving most of the city of Termina sheltered from the neverending rain, with the notable exception of the dockyards.
When they exit the ferry, Ulysses and Ingram draw up their hoods and seal their cloaks. Even this mild rain is deeply unpleasant for the pair of platform dwellers, who so rarely have to deal with the elements of the exposed outdoors.
Termina sits on both several major rail lines, and on the outlets for a huge underground canal. This postion makes it extremely favourable for trade, which over its history has spawed bustling marketplaces and huge dockyards. Amongst these docks, Ulysses notes half a dozen or so amphibious landships, all in varying states of loading. Ground crews are assisted by 8 foot tall exoskeletons clad head to toe in pale ceramic, a couple of which stand watch, holding guns that look thicker than Ulysses' torso. She hasn't seen anything like it before, OKOS must be spooked badly for them to be staging this much force on the mainland.
Among the crews, an officer dressed in fullmail takes notice and approaches Ulysses and Ingram. They must be a high ranking witch, going by the bright blue beret secured above their featureless ceramic mask, and the equally bright blue cloak they wear over one shoulder.
"You part of one of the crews here?" Their voice is husky but clear.
"No, just passing through." Ingram replies, producing an ID from his bag. "We're on a delivery job, which way is it to central?"
"Up past these steps," they point across the docks, "there's a rail that takes you straight there. I'm going to have to check you before you enter the city though."
"Pardon?" Ulysses asks.
"I'll just be a moment." The witch's armour clicks as they move towards Ingram.
"This isn't standard procedure."
"These aren't standard circumstances." As they say this they place their exposed fingertips onto his forehead. Immediately, Ulysses becomes aware of the pair of swords hanging from their side. Ingram flinches a little, and the witch pulls away.
"You're all good," they say.
"Thanks." Ingram replies, slightly sheepishly.
"Stay safe out there, and by the way, there's a great cafe just a couple doors down from the station enterance, big yellow sign, you can't miss it." The witch drops their formal tone of voice.
"Thanks."
"I know you're hungry." The witch says, tapping the side of their temple. Ulysses isn't sure if they're being friendly or vaguely threatening.
The pair proceed forward as the witch instructed. Once out of the rain, they move towards the city center, catching a light rail shuttling them from the dockyards up the cliffs past the industrial district, and through towards the primary living area. The view of ships and cranes seems to shrink down to nothing as they ascend, being cut off by a narrow tunnel as they plunge into the side of the vast buildings along the cliffs. Quickly, the view opens up to wide roads and vast plazas, some even as wide as the buildings flanking them.
The streets are well lit by a combination of bright arrays of bulbs and a trickle of daylight seeping in from huge windows stories and stories above the ground. Termina's center is mostly covered, but not entirely watertight; excess water drips down into gentle streams and waterfalls built into the roads, often creating little moats arount the sides of buildings. Most of the ground floors are lined with shops of sorts - grocery stores, workshops, and cafes broken up by the occasional library or office. The architecture is not too disimmilar to what Ulysses is used to at home, but the buildings here are taller and ornamented, made with heavier materials that give the place a rigid, aged look. There's more greenery too, the wider streets allow for rows of bushes and small trees, all different species to what they have on the archologies too.
Once the train stops, they step off into a station overlooking a wide plaza at the city center. It is well lit by the huge round window sitting far above a great tree in the middle of the space.
Shortly since stepping off the ferry earlier, Ulysses had been feeling a buzz inside her head - her antenna had recieved a message from their coordinator and stored it in her buffer. Along the street from the station enterance, Ulysses spots a cafe with a large yellow sign hanging above it. It's worth a shot.
[expand following] Ulysses takes a bagel while Ingram works on some soup and bread. After a few bites she takes a pen and a pad from her bag and clears her mind, focusing on her buffer. The information passes into her mind, writing it into her short term memory.
"The scout is here, at the station. We should meet up with him soon." She speaks, slightly robotically as if recalling a passage of text she'd revised.
[end chapter here?]
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Descending the stairs into the station below, they find themselves in a long narrow lobby ending in a series of stairwells and lifts. To their right is a row of kiosks, only one is alight, occupied by a slightly disheveled woman reading a book. A split-flap display lists the departures, almost entirely cancelled, just as the brief had described.
"Right, I'm going to figure out how we can divert our train, you should go and find our scout."
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rework following: Ulysses moves her gaze around at the rest of the lobby, the walls are lined with rows of benches and plastered with posters - one section is full of work notices and travel warnings, another details local exhibitions and music performances. A station like this would be a hub of activity just a few months ago, Termina is usually a bustling trade center, owing to its large port and extensive overland connections.
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rework following: This station is built around a particularly large Daemon supply vessel, a vein-like tunnel carrying hundereds of trains through a network spanning the entire mainland. These vessels have been long used by Pseudohumans, who strategically divert and delay trains, using the emptier carriages to carry cargo and passengers between burrows.
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[leave this as last paragraph? Introduce Ray in chapter 2?]
Sprawled over a bench, their scout rests with a set of headphones on beside a pile of bags, halfway between sitting and laying, and seemingly unaware of Ulysses' approach. She's shorter than Ulysses; well built and muscular with pale skin and dusty brown hair spilling over black horns in messy curls. Her uniform is identical to the kind Ulysses wears, but the chest and thighs are covered by the ceramic plating of an exoskeleton. Propped up against the seat rests a long rifle, bigger than anything Ulysses has ever handled. She does not look up even as the girl stands over her.