( november intro log )

[hownkai]

Who: Everyone
When: November 1st and on
Where: The ship and on planet
What: Exploration + new arrivals
Warnings: Please label any warnings you have on your threads

THE INFLUX

"It is not so much about beginnings and endings; it is about muddling through the middle."

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.

Welcome to Caducus Primary

Shortly after your arrival, you are met by one of the captains and any of the crew of the Moira who might have accompanied him. You are given a brief physical scan and are asked to sign a contract that states you are now part 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. Much like the Moira's own Ingress, C-Primary's Ingress seems to be malfunctioning, and nothing can return through it. If you choose to disregard this offer, you will be detained indefinitely by the natives of Caducus Primary. (Joining the Moira is really the only choice you have.)

DESCENSION

"I am the keeper of fragile things."

From a distance, Caducus Primary doesn't look like much. The weather on the planet is extremely stable, and the vegetation is neat, almost pristine. What stands out about C-Primary, however, is the fact that there are hundreds of VERY TALL buildings packed together in many of the cities. They are elevated about the ground on what appear to be stilts and sway almost gracefully in the gentle breeze that is always present. Their stability never wavers; they don't fall down. The streets are lined with beautiful sculptures that are placed wherever light is needed. Many other designs can be found outside as well as in. This planet is rather wealthy, and the abundance of their natural resources reflect in everything. The world glitters just as glass would in the sunlight.

Native Details
● They have darker skin tones, but their hair styles and colors are all as unique as they can make them. This can be seen as influence from other travelers.
● Friendly, welcoming, and encouraging to the crew to trade with them for what they need.
● There are no visible "poor" areas.
● Calm and organized. If lost or in need of directions, they will offer to take you where you are going.
● Vey strict when it comes to rules. (Trade what you say you're going to trade.)

☄CITY PROPER

There are many things to do once on planet. In the city proper, stepping into one of the multiple shops reveals workers crafting glass figurines, jewelry, cups, and other items to your specifications. Trading is the same as on all other planets—there is no one accepted monetary unit. Yet, any unsavory cargo (such as weapons, explosives, alcohol, and drugs) will not be found anywhere in the vicinity of these areas. Other travelers have set up places outside the cities near transporter zones for these particular necessities. Trade at your discretion. At night, if you catch your reflection in a surface that isn't quite as transparent (on a sculpture, the side of a building, anything made of glass), there will be a momentary glimpse of your past or future self. A blink, and then, it will be gone.

Staying on the Moira isn't required during time spent on Caducus Primary. Visit one of its many fine hotels with its beautiful accomodations. The price is remarkably inexpensive: it's free.

( OOC: For any and all questions and to see new rank privileges, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! Check THIS to see your tag. They have already been added to the comms, but you'll have to tag them onto a post before they show up in the list. )

Comments

moira - library

[forwardmomentum]

Miles has been meaning to hit up the library ever since the announcement that it had properly been opened. About damn time, as far as he's concerned. The captains are unfortunately stingy with their information rationing -- Miles assumes they must know more than they're telling, or they're all imperially screwed -- and he's been itching for some alternative to banging down their doors demanding information. The library is fairly cozy, and not totally organized -- a work in progress, looks like.

There really isn't any literature on the Ingress or any of the related phenomena that he can find, much to his disappointment, but he's collected a stack of books to scan for any information that might be relevant or helpful at all. Reading a book on printed paper is something of a novelty for Miles; they don't really use paper at all anymore where he's from. Everything these days is written on reusable plastic flimsies or read from a vid reader. He can be found camped out in a corner of the library, sitting on a table rather than in one of chairs around it, an assortment of books spread around him.

[neveroutwrenched]

Ratchet is the library for an entirely different reason; the opposite really. Paper books are a novelty to Ratchet as well - as is this sort of library entirely - but it’s a novelty he can’t say he didn’t at least give a shot. Reading wasn’t really preferred hobby of his...it wasn’t even something he did professionally if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Maybe it was the archaic subject matter, maybe it was the bizarre events of the prior weeks, but the book had not exactly been a life changing experience...a fact he would probably keep to himself if unless he'd asked.

He almost doesn’t notice Miles, despite the unusual way the man is sitting, surrounding by volumes. Ratchet recognizes him, but can’t quite put a name to face. A reminder of how isolated, how absorbed in the wrong things he’s been since arriving on the ship.

“Oh, uh. Sorry if I’m interrupting. Is Elizabeth here?” He holds up the book in one hand. “I just needed to return this.”

[forwardmomentum]

Miles does tend to stand out, so that someone would recognize him isn't all that surprising. The same can be said of Ratchet, too, though. Miles jerks his chin up when Ratchet talks, blinking, and quickly recognizes the -- er, creature? for one of the crew that's been here roughly as long as he has. Miles still isn't sure what, exactly, Ratchet is.

"I saw her just a little while ago," Miles says with a vague nod around the library, "but I think she may have stepped out. I don't suppose there's a book drop or anything..."

Don't worry, Ratchet, you weren't interrupting much. Actually, he probably ought to take a break, looking at the time. Miles closes the book he'd been reading and slides off the table to give his short legs a stretch. Well, hey, for once he isn't the shortest person in the room. Just...one of the shortest.

[neveroutwrenched]

Ratchet tries not to look too surprised when Miles stands up and he doesn’t have to look up, but it’s hard not to. He’s met a lot of humans since arriving on the Moira, and the Neheda before that, and none of them have been his height...not even the kids. Not that he was judging...they were quite literally on the same level, after all.

Ratchet glances around before placing the book carefully on a nearby table. “Well, I’m sure she’ll find it if I leave it here…” He looks back over at Miles, eyes passing over the stacks of books still on the table. “So. Here for a little light reading, huh?”

[forwardmomentum]

Miles raises an eyebrow at Ratchet at that faint look of surprise. He's too used to getting weird and dirty looks everywhere he goes on mutant-paranoid Barrayar not to notice. He twitches a grin at the remark, though, glancing over to scan the collection he's accumulated as if reevaluating.

"I suppose I might have gone a little overboard," he admits, rubbing at his chin, and stretches his aching back a little, making a face when a vertebra or two pops back into place. "I thought I'd try reading up on...whatever I can find in order to get a better handle on the whole situation. Us being on the Moira, I mean. I have to admit this sort of thing is a little, er, out of my purview."

[neveroutwrenched]

"Maybe not..." It hadn't even occurred to Ratchet to look in the library for information on the Moira. But then, he was so used to the careful dissemination of information, that he wasn't convinced they would leave anything truly useful just laying around in the library. He frowns, picking up one of the books and flipping through it.

"Did you found out anything interesting?" Ratchet asks casually. Probably too casually given that he's actually very interested.

[forwardmomentum]

Miles gives a palm-up gesture with his good arm -- the other's still in a sling -- and then turns his palm down and sighs. "Not really," he says reluctantly, lips twisting into a sort of half-frown. He casts a look over his temporary collection. "I'm still working through all this, and I'll be frank, it really isn't my particular area of expertise. I was hoping to find something on wormhole science or something similar -- it's the only thing I can think of that's even remotely like the Ingress -- but I'm not exactly a scientist." He sits back and rakes a hand through his hair. "I almost wish my mother were here. She could probably work through all this in a fraction of the time, and come away with three times the understanding. This is really more her thing than mine."

[intherigging]

[Jacky was excited to explore a new planet, but she had finished the book Elizabeth had leant her that night (or, rather, early morning), and she figured that the best course of action was to return it post-haste. She wasn't expecting to see anyone else in the library, and she definitely wasn't expecting to find someone with a hoard of books surrounding them.]

Oh, hello! D'ya need help extracting yourself, there?

[forwardmomentum]

[ miles jerks his chin up on reflex at jacky's voice. he'd been so engrossed in reading he was bordering on hypnotic, and now suddenly brought back to reality he realizes he's quite tired, and stiff, a that, his short little body having hunched cross-legged on the table's surface for the last...couple of hours, apparently, as he glances at his MID. sitting down he's small, but standing he'd only be a measly four-foot-nine, crooked spine and brittle bones and all. his head, though, looks like it belongs on a man of six feet, a face prematurely aged with pain lines around his mouth and laugh lines around his eyes. he rubs his face, blinking at her owlishly, then glances at the uneven stacks of books around him. hm. he seems to have been surrounded. ]

Ah. Yes, I think perhaps I might. [ he speaks with an accent that sounds vaguely russian, though about seven hundred years removed. he cranes his neck to peer behind him and then holds the book in his hands over his head, nodding to a short stack at his knee. ] Could you?

[intherigging]

Not a problem, mate. [Skipping forward, Jacky quickly and efficiently dismantled the stacks in front of him, clearing a nice, clear space. Stepping back enough to give him room but close enough to give him an arm if necessary she grinned.]

I'm Jacky, by the by. You're the bartender, right?

[forwardmomentum]

[ miles scoots forward and slides off the table without help, setting the book in his hands down where he'd just been sitting. he absently straightens the top of his uniform -- tailored to fit his unusual body, thanks to harry. he gives her a half-grin in response and sweeps her a modest bow in greeting. it's only a little wry. ]

Miles. Yes, that'd be me, although only part-time at the moment.

[intherigging]

Well, if you ever need another server, or someone to do sets, give me a holler! I own a pub back in Boston, and I know just how hectic or quiet things can get for a bunch of sailors.

What were you reading about, if you don't mind me asking?

[forwardmomentum]

Oh, you know. [ miles waves a hand airily. ] Astronomy, astrophysics, anything on every damned weird phenomenon I can get my hands on in this place, although I'm turning up relatively little. I suspect at least part of that has to do with the fact that this isn't exactly my area of expertise. My mother would have an easier time making sense of this, I think.

[ after all, his mother'd had an eleven-year career in the betan astronomical survey making blind wormhole jumps. you had to be a damned good scientist to make it in survey.

he raises his eyebrows at the offer, though, and flashes her a crooked grin. ]

I could use a hand, actually, if you don't mind pulling double duty. I suspect I'll be rather busy with my new responsibilities in short order. Er -- where is Boston, by the way?

[ going from everyone else he knows here, odds are it's probably somewhere on earth. he's encountered more people from earth on his ship than he's run into in most of his travels through the nexus -- aside from the time he spent recently in london, of course. not a fan. ]

[petrifiedshadow]

Starflight had pretty much become a fixture of the library since it's opening, and had wound up assisting in the organization by the sheer fact that he was creating numerous stacks of books amongst those yet to shelved, all on topics he intended to research. The piles ranged in subject, anything from space travel to calculus to the elusive cookbook, whatever he thought might be useful to fitting in on the ship.

Coming into the library that day, he had gone straight to one of the stacks only to realize some of the books were missing. It didn't take long to scope out the other patrons and figure out Miles had taken them.

Starflight snuck over to the table, debating whether or not to bother man on the table. It was probably the closest Miles would ever get to being eye to eye with the dragon. Starflight reached out and tapped the table near Miles, trying to get his attention subtly.

"Excuse me, but, are you done with those star charts?"

[forwardmomentum]

Miles has been deeply engrossed in whatever book he's been reading to the point of, well, forgetting to eat entirely. This wouldn't be the first time. He also hasn't slept very recently, as evidenced by the day's worth of stubble creeping up on him, the product of a little too much fixation. The tapping of a claw almost doesn't get his attention, but it primes him for the voice he hears so that it doesn't startle him completely.

"Oh -- yes, by all means, go -- ahead..." He looks up as he speaks, and his voice immediately trails off into an undignified squeak as he realizes he's staring eye-to-eye with a frigging dragon. It isn't as though he didn't know they've got a dragon among the crew, although he's never had the chance to interact with it -- er, him -- he's never heard Starflight talk. So he skips right over disbelief and goes straight to oh, shit. Ivan can say whatever he wants about Miles' self-preservation instinct, but he does have one and it is kicking in full gear right now as he shrinks back away from Starflight with a nervous giggle, gesturing at the star charts in question. Starflight seems a lot...bigger this close up.

[petrifiedshadow]

Starflight immediately sat back to give Miles more space. He'd gotten used to people not freaking out when he was around, but then he only really talked to people he knew. Even when he was working in the kitchen full time he had made a point to stay as silent and unobtrusive as possible.

But he knew exactly how Miles felt, cause that was him basically the whole first week with the translators.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. I promise I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Starflight, I work in navigation."

[forwardmomentum]

Oh, thank god. Starflight's less than threatening posture puts Miles at ease almost immediately -- once he knows he's not in any immediate danger, he immediately sheds the diffident intimidation for something more affable and curious, though he's still a tiny bit wary. Friendly as he seems, Starflight could still easily snap Miles in half without batting an eye. It's that self-preservation instinct at will. He wasn't expecting Starflight to be so...polite, but after a moment's consideration Miles decides it's a nice change of pace.

"Ah -- no, it's alright." Miles tries to banish the rest of the nervousness from his expression, although his nerves are still a little frayed just from the initial fright. "I appreciate the assurance, though," he adds, the corner of his mouth twitching, and he half-holds a hand out before he thinks the better of it and withdraws it. Uh, maybe not a handshake, then. Instead he sits up straighter and inclines his head in a sitting bow, making up for it with a flourishing gesture of his arm. "Miles Vorkosigan, Beverage Dissemination Officer." He smirks in self-deprecation. "Although I now also have the distinction of holding the title of Personnel Officer."

[petrifiedshadow]

"It's nice to meet you, Miles Vorkosigan." He stumbled a little over the unfamiliar sounding 'vorkosigan.' "Do you usually use both names? Or can I just call you Miles?" Starflight had picked up on most people using only one name if they had two, but he was worried about being rude and assuming. Everyone had such weird sounding names to begin with.

"'Beverage Dissemination?'" he repeated back, evidently a bit confused. "Is that different than working in the kitchen or the mess hall? I feel like I would have seen you around more when I was the assistant chef if it was."

[forwardmomentum]

"Er -- just Miles is fine," he assures Starflight. A very polite dragon indeed. He has a feeling his Aunt Alys would find Starflight positvely delightful. He's fairly certain she wouldn't be all that put off by the fact that he's a dragon. "Ah -- it means I work at the bar. I still have my kitchen shifts like everyone else, but actual work duties are split between the ship's bar and the personnel office."

library

[lets_see_what_happens]

Gregor is relatively observant. He noticed Miles leave their room, stating a desire to go look in on the library. He also notices when Miles doesn't come back for six hours.

He also has interacted with Miles more than twice, so eventually he heaves himself up out of his bunk and drops by the mess to collect a sandwich and a drink and go to the library himself, finding his foster-brother and setting the two items firmly in front of him. He stops short of closing Miles' book on his fingers, but only barely.

"Hello, Miles," he says, voice mild in the extreme in an attempt to head of any potential arguments regarding immediate nourishment before they start.

[forwardmomentum]

After poring through book after book of subject matter he's got only a basic grasp on, Miles has hit the point at which he loses all sense of time entirely. He's tired, but running on all cylinders he can get operating right now, and it takes him a moment before Gregor's voice registers. He looks up, blinking a little owlishly, but he gives Gregor a crooked smile.

"Hello, Gregor." His voice is a little cracked from hours of disuse -- a significant sign of 'totally overdoing it' if there ever was one -- and he clears his throat. His eyes flick down to the food only momentarily, and he raps at the open book with the back of his hand. "I'm glad you're here, actually. I wanted to ask you -- did you take any of the elective science courses when you were at the Academy? I'm afraid I didn't get in much aerospacial physics, or the finer points of wormhole science -- some of this stuff is a little, uh, dense."

[lets_see_what_happens]

Gregor eyes Miles for a long moment, his dark eyes cool, but he knows a losing battle when he sees one. He sighs and plucks the book in front of Miles out from under his nose and closes it, keeping one finger tucked between the pages.

"Why don't I take a look," he says, sliding the plate with the sandwich into the space recently vacated by the book, "and you eat this. In its entirety." Please don't make me damage both our dignities by making that a direct order, goes unsaid but is clearly implied.

[forwardmomentum]

Miles frowns when Gregor swipes the book, his mouth opening to protest, but he shuts it with a sigh through his nose, pursing his lips. That doesn't really answer his question, Gregor, he has specific inquiries he'd like to make, but it's close enough for now. He raises his eyebrows slightly, then casts a rather flat look down on his plate, but to his credit, he does pick it up, uncrossing his legs to give his creaky joints a stretch.

"I was going to get lunch when I was done," Miles tells him, lifting one corner of the top of the sandwich and tilting his head to peer at its ingredients. A slice of cheese, some leafy greens, and some kind of cured meat. He wonders if the meat they have on board is vat-grown protein.

[lets_see_what_happens]

"Miles, it is eight o'clock in the evening," Gregor says, but he gamely opens the book and looks down at it, frowning slightly, then keeps Miles' place as he thumbs through to the table of contents.

"When, precisely, did you think getting lunch would be appropriate?"

[forwardmomentum]

Miles' eyebrows raise. "Oh." He glances at his MID. "Ah. So it is." How had that happened? No, that's a rhetorical question, he knows how. Or rather, he knows it isn't a new phenomenon, at any rate.

"I figured I'd get hungry at some point," Miles says appeasingly, although he does have a tendency to abandon that sense in his more manic moods. Well, he was hard at work, that ought to count for something. But he really isn't interested in arguing with Gregor -- a futile act, and an attempt he'd rather reserve for something a little more consequential than a sandwich -- so he compliantly takes a few bites of the sandwich, and, totally unsurprisingly, realizes he's starving. He brushes a few crumbs away from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and peers over the edge of the book. "Anything in there you can make sense of?"