thisavrou_log | december event log

Entry tags:

december event log

Who: Everyone
When: December 1st and on
Where: The Midway Hub.
What: With the Moira destroyed, the crew travel to the center of the Hub.
Warnings: Potential violence. Lots and lots and lots of walking. Please label your content

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the outer gate
"Open up, and let them in."

The Moira is no more.

With the damage done to the ship due to the timeslip, all that remains is a burning wreckage and parts to be taken—if the crew can find anything in the pieces. Recovery and headcounts are the main objective for the first several hours of being planetside, and once things have settled just enough, Captain Ira calls for a meeting and addresses those who are able in person to explain the situation. He draws a rough map of the area and explains where he believes they are - according to the terrain - and where they must go. For anyone who’s listening, he describes things like an “Outer Gate”, an “Inner Gate” and “gate sectors”. Believing this to be the best course of action, all crew are asked to explore and gather what they think they’ll need to make the long journey towards the central point of the Hub. Because the MIDs are no longer working due to the lack of a network, the Captains distribute a newer tech called the TAB. It serves the same functions as the MID but is lighter, slimmer, and has the ability to stick to any surface.

WELCOME TO THE MIDWAY HUB

Now that the smoke from the crash has cleared, and injured crew have been tended to, the Captains get everyone ready for departure by explaining what they know of the Hub. Almost stone-like, the creators built a domed workspace in the largest solid space on the planet they could find. Gates are the only way inside, and anyone who catches a glimpse of the compound will see that parts of the dome are cracked. Yet, everything still appears to be relatively intact. The Midway Hub’s terrain is very rocky and difficult to walk on at times. Below the surface is a honeycomb of intermittently dense and brittle stone that makes travel difficult due to the unpredictable nature of what lies beneath the crew’s feet. Those who can develop the tech from what’s left of the debris might be able to create something to determine which route is the safest. Ships and small crafts can be used to fly, but landing is a problem—rocks jut up in sharp peaks and the clearer spots can't handle their weight. Vegetation is sparse, consisting of twisted dark gray thistles that have sprung up from cracks in the rock and burn when in direct contact with skin, and what could be considered small animals here can be seen scurrying away the closer crew get to them.

☄ WEEK ONE

Crew are asked to hook cryo beds together and to use any appropriate vehicles that can be made or fashioned to fit the terrain to carry injured crew on the journey to the center of the Hub. Supplies are gathered, and the Captains, as well as any crew who want to, give the Moira a proper sendoff, heads bowed as they say goodbye to what’s been their home. Traveling starts out slowly, a line of a hundred-plus crew members making their way slowly forward. Stops are frequent, but camping for rest only occurs at night. Crew are assigned watch shifts, fires are built, injured tended to, and those who are able are asked to explore nearby caves and hunt for food.

Something akin to deer, though striped and only to be found in pairs, can be stumbled across at night. Throngs of dark purple mammels begin to follow the Moirans on their trip as well. They are friendly, curious, and eat the thistle. Meet the intelligent, watchful predators that aren’t easily scared away and follow the crew from a distance as if waiting to pounce. The thistle can be eaten, but only if cooked first, and those who sample the chewy plant raw will experience a burning sensation in their throat that doesn’t go away until the cooked version is consumed. During the first week, water can’t be found.

Anyone who does hunt, gather, or explore should make sure to that their TABS are on and it’s suggested that nobody goes alone.

Nearing the end of the first week, an Ingress can be spotted close by that crew can explore. If anyone dares to go inside, they will find the texture of the ground and surrounding walls to be rather soft. If inspected closely, crew will discover that what they originally thought to be rock is actually a living organism that’s fed off the energy of the Ingress it’s attached itself to. It’s not harmful and squishy to the touch. If pressed hard enough, it secretes a turquoise liquid with the consistency of water that might make a good substitute for that very thing.

☄ WEEK TWO

When crew finally pass through the sector gates, a strange sensation encompasses them, and a depowering of sorts goes into effect. The creators put in security measures meant to put all visitors on equal footing as well as to protect themselves from harm. All crew will essentially have the strength and abilities of the average human. An unforeseen issue, this causes Captain Thán to slip into a coma as he is no longer able to continue to recover at a steady pace, and with the loss of the former Captain’s abilities, crew can no longer be brought back if they die. For the first time, all Moirans are subject to permanent death.

During this week of travel, broken ingress machines and parts will be found scattered among the rocks, and new crew will come through. Unfortunately, these Ingresses aren’t in good shape, and anyone coming through will be in varying states of distress—some physical and some mental. New individuals will either have suffered an age slip, growing older or younger than their original body, some form of body transformation (perhaps that shiny thing they were wearing is now part of them somehow), or an extreme weakness they had never been subjected to before arriving on the Midway Hub. The new people will be offered to join their group, once found, and seasoned crew will be asked to explain to them where they are going and what they know.

The rest of the week will be a mix of greeting the new arrivals and continuing to travel to the center of the Hub. The closer they get, the less frequently they’ll see animals, and more caves will begin to pop up.

☄ WEEK THREE

Entering the third week of travel, settlements and houses begin to crop up and are prime areas for exploration and general supplies. Those who go inside may find items that have been left behind and evidence showing that those of varying species and cultures lived in the homes. Some appeared to have been scientists while others were explorers, but all living quarters are deserted. Crew who are less lucky in their search might come away with no fresh supplies, and others might walk into traps or safeguards left behind by previous tenants; these come in many forms, from mild paralysis to temporary unconsciousness. As there are more residences, there are also more caves. The entrances vary in size, and light sources will be needed to explore. Once inside, crew can find purple underwater streams, which can be consumed, and glowing surfaces. When crew drink the water, it temporarily restores powers, a few minutes tops, and then, extreme lethargy settles in for a couple of hours.

Further into the cave systems, crew will come across these lovely creatures that are attracted to sound and track through scent. They are highly dangerous and attack simply to feed. Killing them, though, is surprisingly simple as they are just as vulnerable and weak as everyone else. They are vicious in demeanor but only as strong as an average human.

The closer to the Inner Gate crew get, the less homes, wildlife, and more caves there will be.

☄ WEEK FOUR

The Captains, aware that the crew is exhausted, stop and make camp for the first few days. Someone mentions that it’s the holidays where they’re from, and the Captains do their best to throw a party. Set up at the base of a cave, tents are built and fires roar. Soft music is played in the form of guitar, thank you Ira, and Cúrre brings out some legumes that taste like cherries when roasted. There isn’t much in the way of decorations, but crew are encouraged to dig through their pac-discs and contribute to the festivities.

After a brief respite, crew learn that the entrances to Gate A and Gate B are inside one of the caves but any signs or markings have long since worn away or been destroyed. Groups are split, TABS are synced, and crew explore carefully until an entrance is found. Crew discover Gate A first, and all crew are contacted to gather there. The Captains will remain at the cave entrance until all crew are accounted for, and then, they’ll enter through the gate together.

( ooc; For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )

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[He mistakes the noise for further irritation. He could have phrased it kinder, but going all out complimentary isn't something he had in him when it comes to Rinzler. It's about baby steps, not leaps.

Peter waits, growing uncomfortable while Rinzler considers whether to answer or attack him or whatever is going on in the program's head. The waiting isn't as bad as it would have been with his powers, only minutes and not hours, and that makes it all the worse. Any and all reminders of what he isn't makes Peter feel like he's standing in the wrong skin.]

Drain? [It makes sense, only in the vaguest of ways. Electronics need power to run. To Peter it sounds like power is something Rinzler needed to survive.] Like, what makes you work?

[Another nod. Power is what makes him work. It's what he is, at the most fundamental level: energy and code, electricity given structure and intent.]

Base effect limits energy levels.

Leech intensifies with function use.

[What functions, he's not spelling out, trade or no. Information can be more damaging than any blow, and Rinzler's not glitched enough to tell a known enemy that he can't use his weapons now.]

[It's a lot more on the technical side than Peter's used to following. His computer, mechanical, knowledge began and ended with adjustments he'd made on his Walkman and arcade games.]

The more you function the worse its effecting you.

[He's more reasoning aloud than speaking the Rinzler. Peter still looks a little disturbed. It's almost as disturbing as what he finds himself saying next.]

Are you, uh, going to be... [He trails off, leaving the 'okay' hanging in the air.]

[Expertise or not, the user seems to grasp the concept well enough. Which does nothing at all to reassure Rinzler at that followup. The enforcer bristles, sound ticking out in quick, clipped beats.]

Won't die.

[He refuses to.]

[Again, Peter finds himself raising his hands to try to placate Rinzler.]

Just a question, dude. Just saying that it sounds like a bummer situation. For you. Not that I really care- [Maybe in the vaguest sense of realizing that Rinzler dying meant a some (thing? one?) would be dead and he's supposed to feel something about that.] -and it's not like I can do anything about it. So chill.

[Rinzler's mask lingers for a moment on the raised hands before turning aside, sound still grating out with low frustration. Not a challenge. He wishes it were.]

Purpose (inquiry)?

[Peter's not about to start something he can't finish. Not when he knows all his potential backup happens to be just as powerless right now.]

Honestly? I thought who ever did this might be trying to screw us over and leave you and yours alone. [It's not a kind thing to admit that he still expects some difference to be made between non-organics and organics. But Peter doesn't expect it to really change Rinzler's opinion of him. And it is at least honest.]

[It is honest, and that alone is enough to twitch the program's focus back towards Peter. Rinzler's regard is short but sharp, concluding in a derisive, static-laden skip of noise.]

Stupid.

[Not for suspecting a trick. Not for expecting the power drain to function as a trap, or even for suspecting how it targets some individuals over others. That's all reasonable. But you and yours?

How had the user put it before?]

Your tools.

[He snorts, eyes narrowing. Stupid? It's hardly the first time Peter's heard that thrown his way. He's just not in a position to argue about it.]

Seriously? My tools? What is that even suppose to mean? I can't tell if you're trying to start an argument here.

[Definitely stupid. Rinzler glares right back, noise a seething medley of annoyance.]

Programs.

Written by users. For users. Tools.

[It's the word this user chose, in his rant to the network. Practically the only one Rinzler hadn't disagreed with.]

No purpose: damaging users, leaving us intact.

[Peter scoffs.]

It's not like you've been acting like it. And why wouldn't there be a purpose? You saw how everyone acted when y-

[He cuts off, taking a long breath. His hackles are raised and he can feel the urge to press this further rising in his chest. This isn't what he came here for and he tries to remind himself of that.]

Whatever. Believe what you want.

[Of course he hasn't. He's someone else's tool. Rinzler isn't sure what tangent the user's planning to take next, but he's sure it's equally moronic. Really, it's more of a surprise than anything he recognizes in time to stop.

If that was even the reason. Shoulders twitch, a contained roll of tension down the program's spine that registers as more contemptuous than anything, and Rinzler inclines his helmet. He's not the hypocrite here, but fine. He will.

Are they done?]

[No, he's never done. Not really. But he's in no position to go on the way he really wants to.

Peter stares back at Rinzler, expression all annoyed constipation.]

I didn't come here to start something.

[...that would, perhaps literally, be a first. Rinzler stares back for a long moment before his noise skips in what can only be derision. The black mask angles a pointed fraction further to the side.

Then why is the user here?]

[Peter's annoyed, puckered face slides slowly into a vague comfortableness. What he knows he should say comes no easier than holding back his ire.]

Before, with what happened with- I came to ask you what I did, you know. [He pauses, looking everywhere but at Rinzler.] But before, you showed up. After I was shot.

[The words are jumbled. The references match—and mismatch—far too many terms. Articulation has never been the user's weak point, and there's a part of Rinzler that doesn't mind the turnaround at all.

Shot is clear enough, though. The virus. After he was shot. Before Rinzler killed off Peter's infected ally... and then failed to defend against his own. Does he know? Rinzler doesn't move, doesn't answer, but the stare behind his mask is focused now, and there's a wary edge to the stillness.

He's not sure what the user's leading up to, but he doubts it's going to be good.]

[He’s not all that surprised Rinzler tenses up at the reminder. Perhaps, he thinks, the program thinks Peter is going to get upset about J again. It wouldn’t be so out of the question, not with the protectiveness Peter’s already shown. But for once, he’s not letting himself come to her defense. Not on this.]

You took care of it. Kind of ran in and saved the day. [Saved me, he doesn’t say.] A lot of people would have probably gotten hurt, if you hadn’t.

[He’s staring at the ground while he says it. His voice is quiet; he knows some gratitude is owed but he can’t bring himself to be loud about it. Even if there was no one else around to hear.]

[Took care of it. Saved the day. Rinzler listens, and Rinzler stares, and shock bleeds to a stuttered loop of incredulity. Is the user joking? There's no taunt he can read (and this one is hardly subtle), but that can't be right.]

Failed.

Source of infection: [tricked him, broke him, trusted—and fingers stall before he forces out the simplest terms,] undetected.

Failed? You kept people from dying.

[Wasn't that the very definition of success? Save people, be the hero. Hell, Rinzler had went far behind anything Peter had ever been able to accomplish. How many other people would have died if the thing pretending to be J had lived?]

Look I don't know what that thing was, but you did something. You kept it from killing. Dude. What more did you want?

[He wanted to delete it. To get rid of the virus, to protect the system, to stop everything from getting worse. He wanted things to work. But none of it had—not the system, and not his own attempts—and Rinzler shakes his head, a quick, aborted jerk to cover up the harsh, uneven scraping of his sound.

He doesn't want to talk about that.]

[If Peter realized what was really going through Rinzler's mind, maybe he'd have something kinder to say. Maybe he'd have a shred of compassion to show. But he doesn't know, and all he sees is someone trying to deny their attempt at doing right. Doing something Peter couldn't.]

Whatever. Here I am trying to be grateful and you just- [He shakes his head, pressing his lips into a flat line. He takes a few steps back, crossing his arms over his chest.] This was stupid anyway.

[Rinzler's still lagging, still stalled (still trying to break the awful, pathetic loop of memory), and it takes a long moment for the statement to even parse. Grateful? Is that what this was?

He only stares as the user steps back, trying (fairly uselessly) to backtrack through the verbal statements. You took care of it. After I was shot. If thanks were involved in the conversation, Rinzler's fairly certain that he missed it—perhaps fittingly, since he can't parse any reason why there should have been. He'd carried out his function. Or tried to (failed), deleted one viral. Apparently the user wasn't mad.

He's not sure what Peter is, but between the judgement and the retreat, it doesn't seem likely to be a concern for much longer. Rinzler shrugs inward a little, settling back to his default hunch as he watches for the user to leave.]

[He waits, several seconds longer than he would have if his powers-his worldview- still functioned. But Rinzler says nothing, types nothing. Peter has no reason to stay.

Maybe it was a mistake to try to make nice in the first place. Maybe he wasn't ready, despite owing his life to the program. Maybe, maybe.

Anything he had left to stay was buried under layers of annoyance. Under an anger at himself for letting any of it happen in the first place. Under that odd, uncomfortable feeling that this was only further proof that he'd wronged Rinzler somehow.

He turned, starting walking away.]

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december event log

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