thisavrou_log | ( 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

Mechanoids. [She rolls the word around in her head, and considers it. A word for sentient mechanical races, born from a universe with several. She briefly wonders what the Geth would have referred to themselves, had the word "synthetic" not already been the organic go-to by-word.] I like it. It's got a good ring to it.

[A thought occurs to her, almost ridiculous, but she can't help but ask:] They accommodating you guys for cabin size?

[There are definitely other words for mechanoids in his universe and few of them are flattering.]

They've made an attempt. There's only so much that can be done to alter a ship without major reconstruction.

True enough. Good to hear they've tried, though.

[She lets a silence fall, staring out at the galactic starscape, the cosmos rushing by. It seems unbelievable to think it isn't her galactic starscape. Then:]

This might be a weird question, but... do you breath? Could you go on a spacewalk without any extra gear?

Hm. [It's more than a nod! He must be feeling social.]

I do not breathe. I would need magnetic clamps if I wishes to walk in space, but otherwise they are unnecessary as I am spaceworthy.

Huh. Good to know.

Guess you wouldn't need to eat, either. [What about oil and gas? Or is that too stereotypical? She holds those questions, at least, in her own head.]

[Cyclonus pauses for a moment, wondering if he really wants to answer all these questions about his species' biology. But he does suppose curiosity is better than hostility...]

We need fuel. In some forms it can be eaten, but more commonly it's a liquid.

[Was she not too far off with oil or gas???????]

Do you mind if I ask what's considered a balanced meal for your standard Cybertronian? Nutrients, minerals?

[You're starting to make him suspicious, Shepard, despite the politeness. Why do you want to know?]

...our natural food source is energon.

I've never heard of energon before.

[He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like a person explaining the diet of an ant-eater. "Its natural food source is ants."

It's too much.]

Is it naturally occurring in your universe? Or processed?

[That's not too surprising, given that Shepard hadn't heard of Cybertronians either.]

It's naturally occurring on our homeworld and processed for fuel. There are other related substances on other planets.

[Wonder if there's another name for it. Like "oil", or "gas". No. Rude.

She lapses into another silence, watching the stars for a while. The whole conversation has been vastly informative, but she's starting to feel like all these questions might be a little irritating — especially if he's had to answer them often for others like her.

After a few minutes, she speaks up.]

Thanks again for answering all my questions.

[WOW SHEPARD. Oil and gas are inferior fuels made from dead organics. Energon is a beautiful pink, volatile, pure food source gifted by Primus.

And she'll probably see some the next time one of the Cybertronians gets fucked up somehow. Not if. When.

Cyclonus gives Shepard a little shrug at the thanks.]

You are welcome. Have you sated your curiosity?

[She quirks a smile, looking sideways at Cyclonus.]

Ha. For now. [The wheel will make its reappearance. There's a beat before she adds on:]

It's a big multiuniverse. I've got a lot left to learn.

And so little time to do it in...

[Short-lived organics, right? Curiosity makes total sense otherwise how would they learn anything before they die?]

[Was that a threat, a promise, or a comment on the inevitable entropy of all living things?]

What do you mean?

Organic species tend not to live long.

[He looks at Shepard appraisingly.]

Human lifespans... a couple centuries, was it?

[She suddenly laughs, despite herself.]

Close! In my time, we can reach about 150 years, give or take a little.

But with a guess that wide, I'm guessing Cybertronians live a bit longer?

[Not even two centuries! What a mayfly.]

As the oldest Cybertronian on this ship, I came online eight million years ago.

[That's... longer than she expected.]

Eight million years?

Yes. Age-related difficulties sometimes occur in those older than five million, but there are also healthy Cybertronians my age and older.

[Several million years older than that and you're getting into 'our species didn't exist' territory.]

Wow.

[After a moment of thought:]

Is your year the same length as a solar year? An earth year?

I translated the time into Earth-based units.

[Sorry Shep, he still hella old. It's only polite to use an alien's time-units when you're aware of them.]

Wow. [It bears repeating.]

If you have difficulties with bodies, do you just... swap out parts?

Some parts can be replaced. [He thinks of the empty socket on his helm where his replacement horn had been until the Ingress stole it.]

Whole frames are rebuilt or upgraded at times.

If you don't mind me asking, is there any parts that can't be replaced, rebuilt, or upgraded?

(no subject)

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