thisavrou_log | ( december event log )

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( december event log )

Who: Everyone
When: December 17th and on
Where: Throughout the Moira
What: The reasons for power failure become a little clearer...
Warnings: Possible character death. Please label anything you do that needs a warning.

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transmission theory
"A thousand fibers connect us, and our actions run as causes, comimg back to us as effects."

As of now, it's common knowledge to the crew that Tipota is dead. The manner of her death, however, is still being determined, and the other captains have sent another reminder through the MIDs to continue traveling in groups and not to wander around. The power issue has yet to be resolved, though it seems nothing is apparently wrong with the engines or the wings, but slowly, the chill begins to recede into something a little more tolerable—still cold but not freezing. The malfunctions that manifest aboard the Moira start to resemble a more systematic pattern, lights flickering in certain sections of the ship before shutting down in intervals of 30 to 60 seconds and coming to life again. It moves on through several areas, though it doesn't affect places with larger groups of people.

A day or two after the power begins to stabilize itself, everything comes to a standstill. There's a moment that seems as if time slows and stops. Things are eerily quiet... Anyone in the hallways will hear the lock of one of the I.L.R. release, security measures suspended to preserve life support functions. What had been a peaceful moment roars into chaos.

☄ Ploiatos
It's been here as long as anyone can remember. It lurks in the shadows, a human-shaped figure dressed in the tatters of a Moira uniform. In the dark, it feels the most comfortable, and its movements are impossible to pinpoint without the light. From a distance, it might appear to be someone you know, another crew member who's become lost in the corridors, but up close — well, no one actually knows what it looks like. At close proximity, it sinks itself into you, and the cold that has plagued the ship seems warm in comparison as the dark rises. Perhaps there had been something to the warning the captains had given before; maybe you should R U N.
• Together: There is always safety in numbers. Ploiatos is severely confused by the presence of more than one body, and though it's attracted to the particular emissions of the crew, it prefers the choice of one to two or more. Trying to hunt or capture it is impossible; it's gone as quickly as you can blink.
• Alone: There is no hope. You don't realize that it's there until you're waking up, the marks of its touch spreading across part of your body. These are permanent, a beacon to Ploiatos that it's had you once and only needs to get you once more to end it. Once will not kill you, but a second time will. Any attempt at contact via MID isn't likely as they momentarily short out within proximity to the creature.

☄ Bait & Lure
For those brave enough to try, a plan has been implemented by several of the crew to attempt luring Ploiatos back into its room in the I.L.R. Life support systems are drastically depleted now, oxygen levels low and the lights barely working, but it's up to the crew and those who SIGNED UP to help protect their friends and fellow crew members.

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[ miles decided to wait until the medbay settled down a little in the wake of the whole freaky event. he's been in and out visiting, and he knows how busy it's been. his concerns really aren't immediate, although he's definitely been feeling worse since his stint in the morgue. actually, that's sort of why he hasn't made it back in since then. he's reluctant to admit it, but the dressing down cúrre had given him had made him a little gunshy.

but he has to go in eventually; the pain's starting to get bad. he's been having these osteo-inflammatory attacks since he was about twenty or so, they crop up every so often, but lately he's been feeling the more acute need for some painkillers. even his legs have been aching, although that must be by some psychosomatic association, because he'd had the bones in his legs replaced with plastic synthetics a few years back.

miles sidles into the medbay, his slight limp a little worse than usual, catching sight of doc yewll from the door. ah, good. he won't have to limp around looking for her. fortunate, because what he most wants to do right now is not be standing anymore. all the running around he and ivan were doing in the dark didn't really help. ]

Ah -- hello, Doctor. Do you have a moment?

[She pulls away from what she's doing and smooths down the front of her uniform. Which she hates, and the discomfort shows as she adjusts it.]

What's wrong? [She doesn't sound motherly or consoling. For a woman that's 5'3'' and relatively delicate in statures she more sounds like she wants to find whatever problem is happening now and punch it in the face. Not Miles in particular, but the intensity of her focus right then, the way she crosses her arms and the shift in her body language, she's human-similar enough that her aggressively goal driven nature is shining through.]

And if this is going to take more than fifteen seconds have a seat. And don't just run out before I can check you. We've had a problem with that lately.

[Of course, Miles would never do a thing like that, would he?]

[ miles has had a lifetime of dealing with military doctors -- literally since birth -- and most of them were stiff-necked, stony-faced old barrayaran imperial servicemen, although his surgeon among the dendarii fleet could give them all a run for their money. miles has never come to expect much in the way of bedside manner from his doctors, but meh yewll is in a different category entirely. they're not usually so...confrontational. actually, once he gets over the initial surprise of being battered immediately with such impatience, he's going to appreciate how direct she is.

as it stands now, though, miles stands there with his mouth open, ready to speak, but at meh's command he drops immediately into the nearest exam chair before he gets a word out. ]

Ah -- no, don't worry. I have no such intention. I came here to be checked, wouldn't do me much good if I didn't stick around. [ he clears his throat and gestures briefly to his deformed body, which speaks enough for itself. ] I'm prone to osteo-inflammatory attacks from time to time. Brittle bones, y'see. A result of an unfortunate attack on my mother when she was pregnant with me. She came out of it all right, but it didn't do my fetal development any favors. Anyway, I think I've been having some sort of flareup since my, er, cryorevival. It's been a little hard to move around lately.

[ indeed, his movements are definitely on the stiff side, and it isn't just from the last few weeks of cold. and why the hell do his legs hurt? miles frowns. ]

I was hoping I could get some painkillers, and maybe a bioscan. I haven't had one done in a while, not since before I came here anyway, and I don't know how bad the inflammation is. It certainly doesn't feel good.

[At least he follows orders, even if he looks surprised at how she gives them. She does care, really. She wants to make people better, after too many years of war and acting as a scientist there, a war criminal, all she wants to do is save more lives than she's harmed. But that doesn't mean her irritability has waned. If anything, she's gotten more cranky.] I should have a scan from after your resurrection and some vitals from stasis. I'll check those too.

[She picks up a scanning device and goes over to Miles where he sits. The obvious vitals first. Blood pressure, check. Heart rate, check. Fine. Not dying (again) which is good. Terrible joints, brittle bones, just like he mentioned.]

We should also do a neural scan to see if you have some receptor damage. Something that makes the pain worse in your head. [Not psychosomatic, but rather the brain genuinely interpreting it as worse.] Especially depending on what was used on your mother.

Do you have any allergies, are you prone to addiction, or build up a tolerance quickly? [Quick and to the point on that.]

[ she's brisk, but brisk is good. no chatter, no bullshit, just getting down to the point. miles smiles thinly. ]

No history of addiction, no, and my drug tolerance is quite low and has always stayed there. Allergies, though? Oh, yes. I'm allergic to several related sedatives in the Clarium-Thalizine class. I tend to have idiosyncratic reactions. Palpitations, hallucinations, that sort of thing.

[ there are plenty of sedatives that haven't been tried on him yet. he's still discovering the limits. he clears his throat. ]

I doubt you have time for the full story, but it was a toxic gas called soltoxin. Botched assassination attempt. It was the antidote that did the damage, actually. My mother had a cesarean and had me placed in a uterine replicator for the rest of my term, while a cohort of military doctors ran some very experimental treatments on me. They're the only reason I wasn't scooped out of the replicator with a ladle.

[ the bleak smile on his face is sardonic and his tone of voice clearly indicates he's explained this dozens of times before. ]

As far as I know, I've had no such receptor damage. I've had these flareups for years now. Though I don't...exactly know what effect the cryorevival could have had on that.

[ it had punched holes in his memory, he knows that much by now. he shifts, agitated and fidgety in the exam chair. maybe he ought to ask meh for a brain scan, too. maybe he ought not. ]

There's good equipment here, but it's worth the check. But you are inflamed, and your bones are made out of paper mache. Good to know. [She goes to get him an anti-inflammatory to start. Something that will work more slowly, and a painkiller to take the edge off right then.]

[She's hovering near him, preparing to administer the medications.] Possibly with your body being held in a stationary position for so long you'll need to do some special exercises. Physical therapy, stretches, they'll be good for you in the long term. I'll pass a message along to whoever is running training; not a traditional therapist but they're who I've got.

[All of the people that can no longer refer to their hands in the plural at the moment are going to need it, too. Especially after receiving prosthetics.] Are the legs hurting worse than anywhere else?

Oh, I assure you, Doctor, I've been through the whole gamut of physical therapies. I've got my exercises down pat. But it only does so much for the bones. They're still about as sturdy as chalkstick. Still, if there's someone I can train with who won't break me in half, it wouldn't be a bad idea.

[ he shrugs. he's heard it all on that front, meh, he spent the first four years of his life in traction. but ivan has been trying to drag him to the gym ever since he got out of cryo. he gives her a quizzical look at that question, though, brow knitting. ]

Not particularly, but I assume the pain there is just a psychosomatic extension of the rest of it. Phantom pain, you could say. I had the bones in my legs replaced with plastic synthetics a few years back.

[She wonders if he knows what he sounds like. It's probably a lifetime of medical treatment; people get used to the idea they've tried everything, not knowing something new can come along. Even if it's something so little as already having a set physical therapy regimen (one she's not sure he's been following because being cryogenically preserved can get in the way of that). She stares at him flatly. Good, he's been doing his exercises, theoretically. At least there's that. She does like knowing what he's done, but there's another problem here; this isn't his universe. And he's resigned.]

I am aware of that. [His bones, that is.] Unless you managed to change your skeleton to put on a show for me. If so, neat trick. But in case you didn't know, you're not at home, I'm not a typical doctor, and we have access to several universes worth of training and technology. The question about your legs has to do with whether or not you would be able to handle any further improvements, and the prescription for the stretches has to do with whether or not you've had them formally while here and since your cryo.

Hell, we have a guy that can do magic here. [She stands with her arms crossed, drumming her fingers against her elbow.] So do you just want painkillers and a little physical therapy or do you want us to start looking into ways to slowly reinforce your bones over time? Genuine question. I want you to think about it.

Edited 2015-12-24 08:27 (UTC)

Oh. [ miles blinks, looking thought-struck, then a little sheepish. ] I, uh... Somehow that hadn't occurred to me, that there might be other options for me here. How very short-sighted of me.

[ he draws in a fortifying breath, letting it out slowly, and he rubs his chin. he's been through plenty of painful therapies and procedures. whatever meh has in mind, it can only be as bad as the ones he's already been through. ]

Did you have a particular treatment in mind? I'd like to go over the course of therapy, get a sense of what's entailed, and... [ he tilts his head at her curiously. ] What kind of doctor are you, if I might ask?

Call me a general practitioner. With a broad definition of "general". [She's an artificial being intelligent even by Indogene standards. She likes to keep busy.]

So, remember what I said about you changing that skeleton? You're probably going to really need to think about reinforcing those bones. The artificial ones in your legs are gone now. You've got the real deal back.

[Then by way of further explanation, and knowing that this little update on his medical condition is weeks late, she holds up her hand.] I don't know how or why I was never notified of the discrepancy until now. I just compared records. Eggsy's hand didn't come back after his resurrection, we had to replace it. So whatever they did to renew your body apparently involved some reconstruction. Except the bones haven't been replaced entirely- some of the breaks are still there. [And that means some of the bones are still going to be even more weak.]

So as it's not in your head, is the pain ebbing?

What?

[ miles' voice goes shrill, almost a shriek, his face paling in shock. he jerks straight up in the exam chair, sputtering uselessly for a second as his hands spasm at his sides. ]

That's impossible! If they'd replaced the synthetics, I'd -- there'd be surgical scars! But my old bones, that's not --

[ sorry, meh, he's going to be stuck on this one a moment. his brows draw down, his eyes still wide, and he looks down at his legs in mute horror. his disbelief isn't just disbelief -- he's a little nauseated to think that the few parts of his body he could depend on to withstand most anything are just as weak as the rest of him now. he's been walking around for weeks without knowing. how could he not know? he doesn't have his braces here. no wonder his legs have been hurting. ]

You're kidding. You must be. It isn't possible.

[ he swallows, raking a hand back through his hair, and looks up at meh to give her a very weak smile. ]

You're not kidding, are you?

Some people would say bringing someone back from the dead isn't possible, but here we are.

[She sighs out her nose, not exactly good at consolation, but frustrated with the way things work here.] The medical information she had must have been insufficient. My best guess is for a physical pattern to- I guess replicate somehow -they used the Ingress to retrieve information from before the artificial bones were in place. It's possible they might not be able to add synthetics when reviving people but they've told me very little.

Go back to the pain question. Is the injection working right now.

[ miles shakes his head fervently, his speech rapid and pressured. ]

No -- whatever happened, that's impossible. My bones are a unique end product of the soltoxin antidote and a series of highly experimental and variable treatments. You can't replicate something like that. And even if they could, there'd be no signs of any of my old breaks. Are there signs, all the microfractures I've accumulated times? Beause oh, Doctor, I can't tell you the number of times I've broken my legs --

[ no. no, he'll come back to that later. he needs to be in the now. miles sucks in his breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and blows out that breath before he looks back up at meh with an inward-concentrated look on his face. he's not really freaking out anymore, but he hasn't lost that nervous edge. ]

I think I'm starting to. What did you give me?

It's derived from flowers. I custom make my own to suit the patient. An anti-inflammatory and a non-opioid alkaloid. Both with few side-effects unless you're pregnant or nursing and you appear to be neither, so I suspect we're good.

[She can't really offer anything beyond that bit of help, though. Not at the moment and not without his decision to progress.]

You can shout to the top of your lungs that it's impossible, but you have to treat this highly unlikely thing that's happened to you in the meantime. [She should probably speak with the woman responsible for bringing people back.]

Highly impossible.

[ but it's a surly correction, not a hysterical one, and he rubs his hand over his mouth as he tries to force himself to slump back in the exam chair. unsuccessful. ]

Alright -- alright. What do you suggest, then? What kind of therapy?

[She's not going to argue the probability. What's done is done and the only shtako that can be done with it is forging ahead. She will talk to Curre, but it certainly won't help this situation.]

There are several options. Stem cell treatments with the cells of aliens with stronger bones. Infusion with artificial materials. Occasional calcium reinforcements.

You want to put alien DNA in my bones? [ he pauses a moment in thought. ] Well, I suppose gene therapy is gene therapy, regardless of where the genes come from... So -- any aliens in mind in particular?

[ he knows a few, but he's not sure how of a candidate any of them are. ]

Bioman might be a good choice if I can get my hands on a sample- Biomen were grown from human DNA. War-machines with extremely strong skeleton structures. It wouldn't make you impressive to their level but it is an option for reinforcing some of those breaks for a start. Maybe make them strong enough that they're less likely to crack if someone breathes heavily on you.

[Believe it or not, she does want to help. But she's very aware those bones are not in any condition conducive to his good health.]

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( december event log )

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