( april intro log )

[hownkai]

Who: Everyone
When: April 1st and on
Where: The Moira + Del Pascia
What: The crew finds themselves visiting the correctional facility of Del Pascia.
Warnings: Mentions of blood. Please label your content!

I N T R O L O G

slammed & counted "I feel liberated when I'm doing it, and I want other people to feel liberated through it." 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. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay. Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. This process consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters. With the combined efforts of the crew, the terror plaguing the ship has been successfully removed from the Moira. Yet, it doesn’t come without consequences. Aside from the overall state of those aboard the ship, the Moira itself has taken considerable damage across various sections. Overall functionality seems stable for now, but with necessary repairs to be made and few supplies to actually make them with, the Captains have set a course for any nearby planet with the hope of finding what they need. However, that is much closer than it appears. As new arrivals begin coming through the Ingress, a message is received by those in the Tower and broadcast to everyone: Please be advised. Your vessel is now entering Restricted Space. As per penal code 65208-A, only authorized personnel are to be admitted beyond this point. If necessary, further assistance will be provided once docked. As there is little choice, the Captains instruct Navigation to proceed with caution. All transporters will be required to assist in taking those who volunteer to the main hub. WELCOME TO CORRECTIONAL FACILITY DEL PASCIA Del Pascia is one of many facilities across the universe built to maintain and rehabilitate its inhabitants. With a combined populace of both prisoners and employed civilians, it functions as both prison and living quarters. The central section of Del Pascia is divided into multiple floors that branch out into subdivisions of the facility—clearly and precisely labeled. For those contracted to work in the prison, Del Pas Main is home. There are cafeterias, common areas for exercise and general downtime, divided residences, and work stations. Beyond this area, each remaining wing of Del Pascia separates into cell blocks A through F with similar facilities available to the inmates. Varying degrees of criminals are brought to Del Pascia, ranging from maximum security to juvenile offenders, and security differs depending on which block is visited. Yet, there is something peculiar about this prison upon further investigation: there are no living persons within Del Pascia. The AI, which runs and oversees all of Del Pascia, has made arrangements with the Moira so that those who wish may board and take what is needed to begin repairs. This program, while generally polite in nature, goes simply by the name D-E-L. ☄ ENJOY YOUR STAY ... IN PRISON Those who choose to go to Del Pascia will find themselves greeted by D-E-L. It has already agreed to terms with the Captains, allowing crew to strip nonessential supplies that aren’t needed since the station’s crew and prisoners were relocated due to funding cuts. The only condition placed upon this agreement is that any crew wishing to explore must undergo a mandatory decontamination before proceeding through the rest of Del Pascia. This process takes only minutes and is guaranteed to cause no physical side effects. Following this simple procedure, exploration is open with only warnings to be careful about damaging key systems. It is important to note that there are various security cameras located throughout the correctional facility, and it is not uncommon for D-E-L to comment or show concern for those exploring parts of Del Pascia. ☄ DEATH BECOMES YOU There is salvage to be found in all parts of the facility, including the cell blocks and infirmaries of the prison wings. However, there is something odd about these sectors, a strange charge in the air that follows you as you search for anything useful to bring back to the Moira. Perhaps it is the eyes of D-E-L watching? But then, after an indiscernible amount of time, it's like a switch is flipped. Suddenly, you are wearing your sins where anyone but you can see. For however much death you have wrought or committed, there will be blood on your hands—perhaps even further than that. This bizarre occurrence will appear as an almost digital skin and will not vanish until outside the cell blocks. If exploring the infirmaries for supplies, any and all health stats throughout your life will be visible and easy to read by anyone who happens to take an interest. For those who have killed once or twice, they might find a red stain on their hands, but the higher the kill count will result in larger proportions of blood covering their arms and, in extreme cases, perhaps their entire body. The blood will vanish once you have left the prison wing, though you may occasionally see a flicker of the image while anywhere on the station. The same goes for health stats viewed in infirmary sections of Del Pascia. ☄ WHAT WAS THAT SOUND? Del Pascia is a very large station and has been abandoned for quite some time. D-E-L will regretfully inform anyone who asks that some nonessential areas have fallen into disrepair. It will warn that exploring these areas can be risky as it has no knowledge of what damage these sections have taken. Regardless of that, if you venture in, you’ll find that these sections are in rather bad shape. Exposed wiring sparks in the walls, a great variety of broken tools are thrown about, and it seems that every camera has been purposely broken. Venturing in further will yield valuable components for salvage, and yet... as before, you suspect you aren’t alone. It isn’t often, but sometimes, you might hear a step falling moments after yours or a rattle coming from the vents. Every time you go to investigate... whatever made the noise is gone. Should the AI be queried about this, D-E-L will emphasize that all personnel and prisoners were removed and that there is no one on board except crew from the Moira. ( ooc; For questions, go here. All players, please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )

Comments

[backsassin]

It’s only been a few days since Zam’s run-in with Tarn outside the Ingress, but damned if he’s going to let a few broken ribs keep them confined to the medbay for hours on end. He’s poking around one of the abandoned infirmaries now, keeping an eye out in particular for salvageable painkillers. Never hurts to have a private supply, after all.

He’s digging through a medicine cabinet with his one remaining arm when he hears movement behind him and turns. He’s surprised to see Ginko there; sickly kids probably shouldn’t be wandering abandoned prison planets alone.

“Hey, Ginko. Doing some scavenging?” Zam asks. His tone is amiable and familiar, something that may be a source of confusion for the kid, since the one-armed young man before him is clearly not the woman who had greeted him when he came out of the Ingress weeks before. If he can read, the holographic read-out next to the man may provide some answers:

Name: Zam Wesell
Age: 37 years
Current height: 5’6”
Weight: 121 lbs
Current status:
* Right arm severed at shoulder
* Three (3) broken ribs
* Deceased
Previous injuries:
* Variegated fractures, healed
* Variegated lacerations, healed
* Projectile entrance and exit wound, left shoulder, healed
* Avulsion injury, left ankle, healed
Misc:
* Cause of death: acute nerve damage by lethal injection of neurotoxin
* Respiratory system surgically altered
* Extensive genetic anomalies detected

[notyetsore]

Ginko is quick to face the source of the unexpected voice, already on his guard. Fortunately, the man doesn't seem aggressive or anything, but... that doesn't stop Ginko from looking a little nervous.

"Um... yeah. How did you..."

He trails off as his gaze drifts to the holographic display, brow furrowing as he scans over it. He doesn't recognize a lot of the words, but... Zam Wesell. He knows that name. And... cause of death?

"...What is that?"

Of course, unaware though he may be, there's a similar display next to Ginko himself.


Name: Ginko ([ERROR])
Age: 12 years
Gender: Male
Height: 4'2"
Weight: 67 lbs
Species: Human
Injuries:
* Fractures in left ankle and foot; healed
* Left eye removed
* Assorted abrasions to arms and legs; healed
* Assorted minor blunt trauma injuries to head, back, legs; healed
Illnesses:
* Long-term malnutrition; recovering
* Unidentified infection; photosensitivity, fatigue; recovered
* Unidentified infection; dehydration; recovered
* Unidentified infection; extreme fatigue, nausea; recovered
* Unidentified infection; hypothermia; recovered
* Unidentified infection; chronic heat exhaustion; recovered…
(etc)
Notes:
* Extensive damage to long-term memory; cause unknown
* Unknown symbiote in left eye socket

[backsassin]

[Just as Ginko is reading Zam’s read-out, Zam is reading his. It’s a worrying list of afflictions, to say the very least. That last note of “Unknown symbiote in left eye socket” is especially alarming. When Ginko’s gaze returns to Zam, he might notice him staring with some focus where his left eye should be.]

What’s what? [Zam follows the boy’s gaze to his side, but sees nothing.]

[notyetsore]

The... it's like a list. [He points vaguely in the direction of the display before looking back at Zam.] You don't...?

[Oh.

He's looking at Ginko's eye.

Uh.

Ginko blinks in surprise then glances away, reaching up immediately to make sure the socket is covered. When he speaks up again, his voice is very quiet.]

It's... it says you're dead.

[backsassin]

[It doesn’t take long to deduce what the kid is seeing; if Zam can see a read-out for him, then it stands to reason that Ginko can see one for Zam. He’s about to ask what it says when Ginko answers the question for him. Zam blinks.]

Well, [he says slowly,] that’s not completely incorrect. [He glances next to him again, as if he might catch a glimpse of the read-out himself this time. Of course, he doesn’t.] Is that all it says? “Dead?”

[notyetsore]

No, it says...

[He frowns slightly, his mouth moving a little as he looks over the words. Wow yeah he has no idea what some of these are.]

...There's a lot. But it says... um. Diseased? And cause of death, a... ack-ut nerve damage by lethal inject-on of... [Uh.] ...nee-uh-rot-oxen?

[He tried.]

[backsassin]

[The mention of “diseased” gets a quirked eyebrow from Zam, along with the rather vehement thought that he’s not going to be happy if he ended up with an upper respiratory infection from all this business with his broken ribs. He listens as Ginko attempts to read out the rest of the list, though his expression quickly goes from curious to repelled.]

Okay, okay, I get the idea.

[He nods towards the display next to the boy.] You have one too. It’s how I knew about your eye. [He smiles half-apologetically, remembering Ginko’s self-conscious reaction.] Don’t worry, between being dead and missing an eye, I’d say I have more to be embarrassed about.

[notyetsore]

[Ginko glances in the general direction that Zam indicates, but isn't too surprised at this point not to see anything there, if Zam can't see his own. He gives a small shrug.]

...Maybe. But at least you don't look dead.

[He pauses again, thinking, before tentatively adding,] Also, you... looked different before?

[He doesn't know if ths is something he should bring up or???]

[backsassin]

I could, [Zam says mildly. But he won’t. No need to give the kid nightmares.

He shrugs at the boy’s observation.] I change the way I look from time to time. It’s something some people can do where I’m from. [“Some” might be overstating it. Clawdites aren’t humans; they make up a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the galactic population, and the fact that the Zolanders are slowly killing them with economically-enforced starvation and squalor isn’t helping matters. But the boy doesn’t need to hear about the social injustices of a galaxy he’ll never see.]

I’m guessing they don’t have “changelings” where you’re from?

[notyetsore]

Huh. [That sounds useful.

He thinks for a moment before sort of... shrugging and shaking his head.]

I... think I've heard people call something that? But I don't think it worked the same.

[backsassin]

[An amused look comes to Zam’s face.] Hard to imagine “changeling” being anything other than someone who could change. [The word’s just wasted otherwise. He glances back at the medicine cabinet he’d been rifling through.]

You looking for anything in particular here?

[notyetsore]

Not really. Just thought it might be good to get some things from here.

[You can never have too many medical supplies, especially not when you're living in a spaceship where horrible things seem to keep happening.]