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by the inquest
"Arguments on their nature are refuted by those who return to shore, wide-eyed with tales of their savagery."
All Moirans are woken to the sounds of the ship coming to a rather grating halt some time in the early morning cycle. It’s no faster or slower than any other stop, but it is unexpected as the captains didn’t mention an upcoming disembarkment. Shortly after, a message is sent to every MID:Navigation has informed us that we’re approaching bad traveling conditions: an overactive star. Instead of stopping on Liant El, we’ll be docking here on Ceta. Please exercise caution while gathering supplies and during excursions. Follow their safety guidelines. If the chance allows, we’ll also be signing new crew on the planet. Please greet them first and show them to the ship. Thank you. The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar.
For those few who come through Ceta's Ingress, there will be crew of the Moira there to greet you. They tell you of the Ingress, how it is broken, even on this planet, and that the ship is headed back to the origin of this technology. This planet’s Ingress is set precariously atop a floating rock formation, the only way from one area to the next is on small air-propelled boats. Crew members will guide everyone back to the Moira and take them to the Medbay; contracts will be signed posthaste.
WELCOME TO CETA
At first glance, Ceta seems mostly inhabitable, and that's because it is. The atmosphere around the planet is surprisingly thick in most places, sometimes thin in others, and without some way to filter the air, it is mostly unbreathable; it's a giant gas planet, its core made of various molten metals and the atmosphere a mix of oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrous. Ceta's gravity is also uneven, meaning that some areas will have stronger focal points than others. The terrain, when it is visible, appears rather rocky—hardly the best conditions for life and stable living. What's more unusual, however, is that despite this fact, there is, indeed, a small populace "living" among the mist and clouds, but it's clear they do not live here year-round. It's hunting season, and they are there for the bounty.
These visitors have built small platforms that are hooked together by ropes and swinging bridges, which they call "temporaries". Unstable buildings are rare, dangerous, and spread out over these temporaries to prevent damage or accidents. The temporaries float along, swaying and shifting with the planet’s atmosphere, and posted at every point of entry and all open surfaces are a particular set of rules that everyone must abide by. They are written in dark ink and large block letters so that all passing by will stop and read them:
NO FIRE. Flammables, ignition sources, matches, lighters, and anything that creates a spark is prohibited. The atmosphere has higher levels of hydrogen, and the smallest spark will create a problem.
AIR BREATHABILITY. Monitor your vitals. Wear masks or re-breathers if needed.
WATCH THE EDGE. All walkways are the only thing from you and falling. Be cautious and watch your step. These signs should be given their due attention. The edge is just that: the end of where it is safe to walk. If a wooden plank gives way beneath your feet, you will plummet through hundred of miles of atmosphere before hitting the planet’s thin surface. The captains reiterate that crew should be careful and stick to the main temporaries, gather supplies, visit at their leisure, and then go back to the ship.
☄ IT'S A BIRD! IT'S A PLANE!The organisms that have evolved on this planet are unintelligent—a fact that is told to you by the other visitors. As there is no solid materials or ways for them to interact with their environments, these giants float along within the atmosphere, though it appears that they are flying when they are merely navigating through. They travel in groups of three or more and sometimes come close to the outskirts of the temporaries. Because there is an invisible filtration dome around the temporaries, this allows the creatures to pass through without harm and return again into the mist as they please. They are difficult to see at night and are rather skittish in the presence of sudden light.
☄ @ THE MUSEUM Every evening when work is done, artificial light sources illuminate the streets of the temporaries. There is one bar, if you can actually call it that, but the main attraction is a museum. The support structure appears to be made out of the skeletal system of the giants that "swim" and live on Ceta, and though the outside seems rather unassuming, the inside is not for the faint of heart. As it's considered informative, there are displays of the internal structures and functions of the very creatures that seem harmless and as unintelligent as the visitors claim. There are sections of the museum dedicated to their anatomy and what makes them so valuable: inside their air sacs, which is what gives the illusion to flying through the atmosphere, is a mineral that, when harvested, attunes and sharpens the senses so that brain capacity and function excel over one-hundred percent efficiency. Likewise, aside from these informative areas, there is also a history of how and when the visitors began to hunt them for this valuable, unnamed resource.
☄ HARVEST SEASON Are you looking for work? Or perhaps you're bored with your duties aboard the Moira and prefer to see just what it is these visitors do during the day? Hunters will often pay for menial labor to help with the killing and retrieval of the giants of Ceta. It is by day, not by hour, and once aboard one of the many ships, you will be put to work handling equipment or being on the lookout for "signs" of the creatures. Once they've been spotted, the real work isn't in capturing them or even trying to subdue them—though they give a good fight. It's in the harvest, done below deck once they have been safely brought into the ship's cargo areas by the tethers, that can get quite gruesome. As a defense mechanism, cutting into the skin creates a rather noxious emission that can cause disorientation, hallucinations, or unconsciousness. Worst case scenarios can often result in death.
☄ WORD LIMITS As things are beginning to wind up (or down), something seems to have gotten into the MID systems and caused a malfunction. On the morning of 03.13, it suddenly becomes clear that communicating with others who are not from the same universe or similar timelines seems very difficult. Understanding each other becomes rather hopeless as the day continues, and these repercussions can be felt across the entire ship. The Captains send out another MID message that appears as a jumble of unusual letters and symbols. However, there is one word that can be read by everyone and (hopefully) understood: RATCHET. Figuring out this problem shouldn't take long if everyone can leap the language barriers and work together.
( ooc; All New Arrivals: you have the choice of coming through the Moira's Ingress OR Ceta's Ingress. For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-03-01 02:40 pm
no subject
"Did what heal up nicely?"
Had she sustained said injury two weeks before it would indeed have been all healed by now, but that is of little importance at the moment since she is not in fact the woman he treated back then, something he will undoubtedly figure out soon enough.
no subject
Bruce's words trail off a little as he watches her, notices how there's no recognition in her expression, only confusion. He sighs quietly, smile tensing, his head dropping a little.
"You don't remember."
Which isn't impossible, he knows that all too well. Still, it's always an awkward situation, though hopefully Asgardians understand parallel universes well enough for what he's about to say to make sense to her.
"There was a Sif on board, last month. Possibly another Sif. She got injured on her shoulder, and I stitched her up. You look exactly like her, so I thought you were the same person. Sorry."
no subject
Said as if that explains everything, which in fact it does, and what more needs to be said on the subject?
"I will admit to hoping that this other Sif is no longer on board."
It's just a headache that she doesn't feel like dealing with.
"My apologies if she is a friend."
no subject
"It's easy enough to check— but I do think there's only one Sif on the directory, yes."
And he doubts the other one would've had a reason to lie about her name, too.
"No, it's alright," he shakes his head, smiling. "We had only just met, and it was a brief meeting too. Though from what little we spoke, it seemed possible that we came from the same universe."
He hesitates for a moment, then reaches a hand out.
"I'm Bruce Banner. I'm a... friend of Thor's."
no subject
"He has spoken of you."
The man who can turn into a creature so mighty that not even Thor is stronger. That warrants some respect from Sif's perspective seen, even if that raw power is not perhaps something that Bruce wants for himself.
no subject
"Only good things, I hope."
He has a feeling he knows just what things, but she's smiling, so he figures she doesn't mind that part of him much. Asgardians are unique in that aspect, he's come to learn.
no subject
Bruce can probably imagine the sort of dramatic speeches about crushing enemies and trampling them underfoot that Sif has heard.
no subject
"It's not my battle rage."
no subject
It seems rather odd to Sif to not wish to take credit to such feats of strength, and so her curiosity is wakened.
"Am I mistaken then in thinking that you are the man who turns into..."
What was that name again...
"The Hulk?"
no subject
He doesn't sound particularly upset about her assumption, though. Thor probably didn't explain his condition well enough, he might've not even known enough to explain it how it really is. But she's not calling him a monster at least, so that makes this conversation easier to handle.
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She has a great deal of sympathy for such occurrences, and the pain that comes with them for everyone involved. She may be something of an expert when it comes to ignoring her heart, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have one.
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He knits his eyebrows together and scrunches up his nose a little, then goes on to try and explain it the best he can.
"The transformation can be either willing or unwilling. When it's the latter, I'm not in control, and he's rampant. When it's the former, I can control him. On those occasions, you could say it's... as much of me in there as it is him. Something like that."
no subject
Though from what she has heard, he handles it about as well as anyone could.
"It may not seem as much of a comfort, but at least you are allowed to return to yourself once the rage subsides."
Not everyone is so lucky.
no subject
Well, technically it's not. But that's not relevant at the moment, and the point is he's learned to live with it. Not that he had much of a choice.
"That's true, I am."
Sometimes, he's not sure he wants to. Sometimes he just wishes he could dissolve somewhere in there and forget about all the horrible things the Hulk did. But if the option is to have the other guy roaming free at all times, then yes, she is right. It's better that he can go back to normal.
"How are you settling in on the ship?"
no subject
"I suits me ill to be confined in a vessel like this."
She is not unaccustomed to space travel of course, but Asgardians usually make use of the Bifrost to get where they need to go, which in her opinion is a far superior way of getting from point A to point B.
Then there is of course the small matter of her not being on board willingly.
"And I dislike the station given to me by our captains."
no subject
"You're not the only one."
To Bruce it's particularly complicated when he understands all too well the immense risks involved with the Hulk going on a rampage across the ship, especially when anyone trying to stop him would likely only end in an even worse outcome.
"You can ask for a job change, you know," he offers. "What job did they give you?"