thisavrou_log | ( april intro log )

Entry tags:

( april intro log )

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!

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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)! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course Liquid showed up on time. There was no way he wouldn't. Hey, punctuality's important, and this is training that he's actually interested in. The basics were interesting enough, but he'd been a little impatient to get to the actual training part. Not that he didn't pay attention! He's sure he's got all the information.

But now it's time for the real thing.

He's a natural pilot, but he's never even tried flying anything in space. Of course, he's never been to space before this, but still. It's not a plane, helicopter, or even a Metal Gear (not exactly known for getting off the ground without a psychic to help out), but the principles can't be too different, right?

He gets himself situated, sitting in the cockpit like he owns this thing. The controls don't seem too obtuse, not after observing everything, and hey, he can definitely see some parallels to things he's familiar with.

For a brief moment he grins over at Rinzler. He's ready alright. Then his attention's back on the controls, back in front of him, back on the things he needs to get this thing going, and utilizing what he'd observed, he starts heading out. This is going to be great.

Punctuality does matter, and if the user wasn't completely subtle in its desire to get to the actual flightcraft, that's a twitchiness Rinzler can understand. Flight is the program's specialty as well, and when he'd been assigned to the transporters first, with no one present to give training... well, there may have been some ill-advised flight tests before he got the basics of their function down.

In large part, that's why he's insisting on procedure now. Just because Rinzler was quick enough to correct for his mistakes doesn't mean everyone who wants to fly will be. He'd rather improve the system before they have a fatal crash than after. Liquid seems competent enough with the controls, and if his eagerness overshoots his capability, that's why Rinzler is here.

There's a faint skip of amusement to the enforcer's noise at that wide grin, and Rinzler settles back to watching. They clear the flight deck quickly enough, floating out into the wide blackness outside the ship. The current heading is toward open space, with Del Pascia behind and to the side.

As good an area as any for practice. Rinzler's hands move quietly over his MID, and Liquid will find several lines of text scrolling across one of the displays in front of him.

Use instrumentation to set location reference. Switch from repulsors to main engines.

Time to learn how these things can move.

While Liquid may not always be the biggest fan of doing things by the book, when it's something important to him like this, he isn't ever going to complain about procedure. And he's happy to have someone around in case things go haywire. While he's perfectly capable of flying things he knows how to fly by himself (even when he shouldn't), there's no way he'd want to forgo assistance on something so unfamiliar.

He has to take a moment to stare when they head out from the ship. It's one thing to see space from the observation deck, safe behind the window. It's another entirely to be heading out into it yourself. He doesn't spend too much time staring out into the vastness, though. He's got a transporter to pilot, and he doesn't intend to screw this one up. Still, nothing wrong with a little stargazing every now and then.

He reads the text on the screen and nods. "You got it."

Although he did pay attention when he'd observed things earlier, it does take a moment to find everything now that it's up to him. Considering it's his first time, though, he still manages to hit all the right things pretty quickly. References are set, engines are switched on, and he looks like a kid in a candy store.

Rinzler can understand delays to stare at space. Really, Liquid should try it in a lightjet. The program doesn't interrupt his observation, but when the user begins to move, his stare slides down behind the mask, tracking the movements. No mistakes, though the speed could use work.

He checks the heading. Glances over the sensors—nothing in the way. The opaque helmet leaves no sign, but Liquid might not be the only one grinning as the next line of text appears.

Accelerate.

He got things accurate, if not swift. Not bad for a guy who hasn't been in his own body until relatively recently, as far as he's concerned. He's still getting comfortable being himself.

And he's very comfortable being himself behind the controls of a flying vehicle, so far.

He's still grinning as he makes sure everything's set up like he was taught, and then that line of text is everything he's wanted to hear. Or, well, see. "Oh hell yes." Don't have to tell him twice.

A moment to take in the scenery once again, and then he accelerates. Maybe to a speed a little faster than most first-timers might like, but he's absolutely ready to go fast.

Fast isn't a problem for Rinzler. The ship dampens the acceleration almost completely, but there's still a slight press back, potentially destabilizing for anyone not seated or strapped in. Or, of course, able to see it coming. Being firmly in that last group, Rinzler's got a hand pressed back against the wall, and doesn't noticeably move as the ship surges forward.

All reference points being very distant, the view ahead changes only marginally. Still, Rinzler will let Liquid keep going as long as he likes. When the user does pause or look back, he'll receive a slight nod, the tip of that black helmet pointing toward the instrumentation.

Take a look at that location-reference, Liquid. How far the ship's gone... and how fast, even once he stops, they're still moving.

There isn't really much to look at once the original awe of being out there in space wears off, but Liquid's still enjoying it nonetheless. Especially when he knows he's pretty much wooshing past things. It's fun.

He goes for a nice leisurely yet speedy cruise for a while, then when he glances back at Rinzler his attention's brought back to the references at the controls. He peers at the location, frowning slightly. "Hm. Should probably rein it in a bit, hm?"

Maybe he let the thrill of flying get ahead of him a little. The last place he wants to end up is the furthest reaches of space, after all. Not that he's gone quite that far, but still. He gets ready to slow down a bit and turn things around, keeping in mind the things he'd remembered from observation.

Not that hard, when you get the hang of it.

Again, there's an amused skip of static. The helmet inclines. Yes, user. You probably want to do that.

Rinzler doesn't bother to offer advice at this point—they're far enough from the ship to avoid collisions, even if the user makes a mistake. But he's curious what route it will take. Turning... slowing... and most of all, how thoroughly the lesson's registered: speed doesn't vanish out in space. It's an exploit not common to the atmospheric vehicles this one was used to, but every bit of acceleration the user applied is staying with them, to be redirected or diminished by its hands.

Okay, yeah, this part's getting a lot different from what he's used to, and experiencing it's different from learning about it, but he can roll with it. Still going? Just turn, turn, turn. Not like he's going to wreck anything out here.

He runs through the things he's observed in his mind as he works on turning and slowing a bit, making sure to keep an eye on the transport's location in regard to the ship.

Still excited from the mere act of flying, he's all confidence as he sets a course back to the ship, making sure there's plenty of room to turn and slow down. He's got this. Not perfectly, but that's what training's all about. He's learning.

"This good?"

The transporter's sensors provide enough data to plot a precise return course, but Rinzler watches through the windows, estimating their route against the stars for some practice of his own. The wide sweeping curve is smooth enough, the return trajectory not perfect, but with plenty of room to correct and adjust. He nods in answer. It's a start.

Rinzler observes the distant specks of ship and station as they grow through the window, but makes no comment yet. He's curious to see how well the user's control will hold as they get closer.

Liquid's still confident, and from the looks of it he's far enough away that getting things perfect won't be too difficult. He's going to take heading back a little easier than heading out, as much as he'd like to start speeding back. He can play around some other time, when he's in the clear for doing these things.

Messing around while he's being watched never seems like a good idea, after all.

He remains silent as he flies the thing back, paying attention to where he's going and what the readouts say, adjusting as necessary. Usually he's a bit less careful, but recklessness isn't going to get him cleared for transporter use, so he just eases into things. And then the ship's way more into view than it had been, and he's on a pretty good trajectory.

This is nice. This is something he can really get behind going out and doing again, even if it's just for a trip like this. He keeps slowing down as he gets closer, lining up to make sure getting back in goes well enough.

"Not bad for a first time, right?"

The approach is smooth. Alignment takes more adjustments than it needs to, but Rinzler's not going to expect flawless efficiency on a first flight. There's a satisfied note to the ticking rumble—as good as praise from Rinzler. Still, that won't stop his mask from angling with a skip of amusement as the user congratulates itself.

Circle ship prior to approaching doors.

Necessary? Not in the slightest. Possibly the reward for smugness is more work. Of course, given the user's clear enjoyment of flight, Rinzler suspects it won't mind the addition. And the extra challenge might give him a chance to gauge its close-range handling.

Messing around? Apparently required in this class.

As far as he can tell, it seems Rinzler's not exactly complaining about his handling of the ship, which is just fine by him. Always nice to know there's some kind of approval. Hell knows he kind of craves it sometimes.

He laughs when he sees the next message. Oh no, more time flying. Whatever is Liquid going to do? "You've got it," he says, and he starts changing up his trajectory immediately. And this time, if he's got to do all the extra work, he's going to do it with a little bit of a flourish.

He might want to do things right, but if Rinzler's going to play like that, a little bit of dramatics aren't going to ruin his chances at this point. So occasionally as he circles he veers off course just a little, just to bring everything back to normal moments later, a wide grin on his face.

Despite all his extra effort, he does get back on track soon enough, the challenge (and the bit of extra he'd imposed on himself) met, the ship close. He almost seems like he doesn't want to go back just yet, but that just means he'll probably want another trip eventually. "So. What do you think, hm?"

As far as Rinzler's concerned, experimentation is more than permissible—it's necessary. For the user to learn, and for him to gauge how it might handle the flightcraft. So far he's reading a surplus of satisfaction in its own maneuvers, but no real likelihood towards crashing itself with them. Hard to say how that would hold up as it got more comfortable with the controls... but for now, at least, it's not a problem.

They return to an entry path, and Rinzler glances sideways at the question. It's strange to be asked for value judgements at all, but he takes a moment to assess before replying.

Rough handling: competent.
Precision, instrument familiarity: needs work.

Still, for a first attempt... not bad. The enforcer's helmet tips a little in acknowledgement.

Will schedule further training.

Normally, Liquid likes to teach himself things. Ever since childhood he's hated classes and having people tell him what to do. It's really rare that Liquid doesn't automatically hate learning something with someone else teaching him, as inevitable as it is that training's required, but he's actually interested in what Rinzler thinks of his performance this time around.

And the results are pretty damn positive, all things considered. Pretty in line with what he'd been thinking, although he'd been congratulating himself just a little more.

Well, good. He's competent. And as skilled a pilot as he knows he is, he definitely needs more practice with these controls, with this ship. Space is still a different beast from the sky.

He nods, smiling as he does. "Brilliant. I'll be sure to show up."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( april intro log )

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