hohnkai: (Default)
Thán ([personal profile] hohnkai) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log2016-12-02 06:54 pm

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


E
V
E
N
T




L
O
G

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)! )
worn_wings: (➶ 019)

ota, prose or brackets fine, etc. <3

[personal profile] worn_wings 2016-12-03 06:30 pm (UTC)(link)
i.
The crash was a disaster, but the truth is there's a part of Daryl that's oddly relieved by their new surroundings. He's trying to ignore it, because (as noted) this is a disaster, but he can't wholly deny it's nice to have solid ground underfoot and a sky up above. Even if it's miserable and grey and ominous.

For a while he takes a shift helping haul cryopods with a makeshift trailer and the bike he earned on the Colony-- none the worse for wear after coming out of the pac-disc, which is a relief--but when he sees movement in the distance, a nearly-familiar silhouette, something with stretching, towering antlers, he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Hey," he calls out, to anyone walking close enough, rapping his knuckles on the warm metal of the motorcycle. "Think you could ride this?"

ii.
As it turns out, haring off after strange animals with no preparation isn't the greatest idea, but at least he gets close enough to the massive, striped bucks to get a look at them. There're no guarantees out here, of course, but they look like dinner to him. So, once they make camp that first night, once everyone's settled in-- tents pitched, shelters erected, guard duty sorted out-- he checks his weaponry, grabs some supplies, and gets ready to head out, bow slung over his shoulder, offering a friendly enough nod to anyone he passes on his way out.

He's planning to go alone, but those things travel in pairs-- he wouldn't say no to a helping hand.

iii.
He should sleep, probably, but instead he finds himself sitting by the fire, staring at nothing in particular, after he comes back from his hunting trip. Sure, he's tired, but more than that he's restless. There's something uncanny about the landscape; he can't get comfortable when it's so unfamiliar, and it makes just enough sense that he'd really like to get back out there. Have a look around. Find some water, that'd be good.

Instead he sits there, chin resting on his crossed arms, too tired to actually rest. Good choice, Daryl.

iv.
[ anything else, idk, hit me up! cr meme here if you wanna plot ]
forgeabettertomorrow: (Face tomorrow)

OTA

[personal profile] forgeabettertomorrow 2016-12-04 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
-Goodbye, Moira (with Lucio)-

[It was sad, really. Despite general opinion being mixed on being stuck aboard the Moira, the fact remained that the ship carried them safely through the cosmos. Darin hadn't been on the ship very long, but coming from a port town, he knew just how important a ship could be. What it could mean to people. For better or worse, this ship was their home. And in what seemed like the blink of an eye, it was gone.]

[Morale was low and with an uncertain future looming ahead of the ship's crew, Darin knew that everyone needed a pick-me-up. Not only that, but he felt that the Moira deserved a proper send off, after all.]

[So, the day before the great exodus, Darin builds an enormous bonfire near the base of the wreckage. He'd spend the time since the crash scavenging for supplies and scrap, and when he was satisfied with what he had, he started doing what he did best: Making weapons and armor. Sure, they're not the most ornate looking things, but you'd be hard-pressed to find anything more durable. These weapons and armor are free for the taking for the journey that lies ahead, and Darin makes sure everyone knows it. But to really hammer the point home? Darin enlists the help of his best pal Lucio.]

[Together, the two put on a high energy, morale boosting show. Lucio provides the slick dance beats, while Darin provides the visuals: an incredibly high level trick weapons demonstration using his own hand forged weapons.]

[Want to join in? Please do! Have a request for a song or a weapon? Don't worry, you won't be turned away!]


Come on, everyone! Whatever tomorrow brings, let's enjoy today for a change! Let's thank the Moira by saying goodbye with the biggest smiles we can show!

-Week 1-

[Darin spends the week alternating between hunting, scavenging, and scouting and pathfinding. When he's scouting, he's often ahead of the group, checking the terrain for anything dangerous, and generally running reconnaissance. He won't say no to company, especially when the terrain gets a little treacherous.]

[When it's time to make camp, Darin will usually volunteer to take first shift on watch. He'll find a relatively high perch, take a seat, and start sketching. Feel free to take a seat with him or look over his shoulder. He's either poring over his notes and sketches from the day, or he's working on a map of his own design.]

[When the Ingress is spotted, Darin's one of the first to volunteer to scout it out. Before he even touches anything, he's standing before the Ingress making notes of the surrounding area and making sketches of what he sees. For once, he's not charging in blind!]


-Week 2-

[Having pushed himself the week prior, Darin expected himself to be a bit worn out. What he didn't expect, however, was to feel more exhausted than he had ever felt in his life. It happens shortly after passing through the sector gates, but his usual, seemingly endless stamina all but evaporates. The exertions of the previous week hit him all at once, and Darin literally almost drops where he stands.]

[He's sweating profusely and he gets winded much more easily as he tries to keep up his normal pace.]


What...what the hell is going on...?

[About midway through the week, Darin is overtaken by a fever. Not that he's going to admit to it. In fact, he'll openly argue with anyone who thinks they're some kind of doctor (even if you're an actual doctor) and he'll spend the remainder of the week trying to sneak out from wherever he's being made to rest to try and help out.]

-Week 3-

[After a quick sweep of the settlements, Darin decides that the caves are more interesting to explore. When he sees the underground pools, however, all bets are off. They've been walking for weeks now, he was sick a few days ago, and let's face it, he hasn't had a bath in forever. Excitedly, Darin strips off his clothes and dives right into the pool for a nice relaxing dip. He might as well enjoy it a bit before telling others about it, right?]

[Well, it turns out, it might not be so relaxing. Darin isn't exactly quiet as he's splashing around, and his clothes probably have a few weeks worth of sweat soaked into them. So imagine Darin's surprise when a couple of those eye-less masses of teeth appear for a Darin snack. Are you imagining it? Because the surprise takes the form of a loud, ear piercing shriek. Which leads to Darin scrambling out of the water and making a beeline for the entrance of the cave.]

[Sure did forget his clothes back at the pool. Yup.]


COME ON!!! CAN I JUST GO FOR A LITTLE WHILE WITHOUT SOME SORT OF ABOMINATION TRYING TO EAT ME?!?!

-Week 4-

[It's been one hell of a month, and even though Darin is trying to remain upbeat and positive, exhaustion can be seen in his green eyes. Nevertheless, he's wandering around the main camp, making sure everyone is alright, checking to see if they have everything that they need.]

[He doesn't exactly know which holiday is being celebrated though.]

Man, I wish I knew what everyone was celebrating...it seems kind of somber.

-Wildcard-

[Hit me up with anything you want!
patchricide: (54)

the super darin and lúcio bros super show

[personal profile] patchricide 2016-12-04 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
[It's not her biggest smile, but you know what? She is enjoying the show, and doesn't immediately jump to the conclusion that he's going to put someone's eye out flipping those sickles around. She's a little more easygoing when he's not literally endangering the entire ship with exploding things.

Rather than interrupt the show, she'll wait until he takes a breather to talk to him about it.]
Where did you learn to use weapons like that? That looks much harder than anything you would need to do for testing your work.

[And what about Lúcio? Will she be able to catch him and attempt to mingle as well?]
forgeabettertomorrow: (I'm busy over here!)

[personal profile] forgeabettertomorrow 2016-12-04 03:07 am (UTC)(link)
[Darin was going through the weapons he'd managed to forge before the bonfire, attempting to decide what he was going to show off next. He wipes the sweat from his brow as Allura approaches him, and he looks over his shoulder at her.]

[On the one hand, he's about to fire off a snarky retort.]

[But he did promise Shiro he'd try and get along with Allura. So he bites back the initial response with a huff.]


Well, my old man and I make a lot of weapons for the soldiers of the kingdom. And I'm a firm believer in the fact that I can't forge something I have no understanding of. So I've been training with the Captain of the Royal Guard since I was around ten years old. From there, it's just finding ways to train with any new weapon I can get my hands on. Foreign tradesmen stop by the blacksmith's guild all the time, so it wasn't hard to pick their brains and learn some techniques.

Weapons aren't just...tools...that someone can swing around like a caveman. They're meant to be extensions of your body. I don't forge anything that I think won't fit the person who wields it. You could come up to me and demand I forge you a warhammer, but if it conflicts with your body's natural movements and ability, all you're doing is hindering both your own potential and the weapon's. And that's how people get hurt and die.

No one leaves my shop with something that could get them killed.
villainry: (if you know what i mean)

[personal profile] villainry 2016-12-04 04:48 am (UTC)(link)
week one
[The idea of depending on others has never been easy. There had been a time once when trust had been easier to come by that Loki might have relied (too heavily) on the assurance that even if his brother's friends often ignored him for their illustrious companion, Thor wouldn't have forgotten. It may never have stopped his brother from being a braggart, ignoramus of the worst sort, and an oaf, but they had been connected in a way that worked far deeper than the bonds of the false family they'd both been sold.

That time is no longer, and it certainly not now. Even if Thor had been here--Norns be thanked for something--there would be no reassurance. No connection, no bond, no saving, if Loki had ever needed it (and to his own estimation, he never had). Which is fine by him.

This ship has never been anything but trouble. Interesting, perhaps, but all it does is leave him saddled with an inherited mess he has to find a way out of, or he gets stuck out here...in this desolate wasteland that reminds him far too much of Svartalfheim.

He does indeed try to trek off on his own. He has nothing to bring with him other than what he'd arrived on the Moira with (thankfully this time with boots), and a makeshift weapon fashioned out of the heap of what had once been their "home." In that first day, as night falls, he finds himself far more comfortable as he no longer needs to constantly look over his shoulder, out in the open as he is.

Loki has, in that darkness, come upon a pair of "deer" that look more to him like bilgesnipe in the obscuring fog and lack of light. He looks ready to pounce on the nearest one...that is, unless he's interrupted.]



week three
[Attempts at hunting and fending for himself had come to a quick and decisive end days earlier when his magic finally failed. There had been a number of excuses Loki had tried rationalizing to himself: lack of food, bad food, something in the air, but all explanations had either come up short or failed to actually address the problem. And thus, here he is, without the tricks that he's relied on to survive for so long. The one gift from Asgard worth keeping, and now they've taken the last of Frigga away from him too.

Needless to say: by the end of the second week, Loki is not in a good mood. Indeed, he's poorer company than usual, short and moody and as non-communicative as he can get away with.

As the crew continues to explore, however, and the houses begin to pop up, he finds places to creep, and things to rifle through, if nothing else is particularly useful. It's something to do with the time, at least. Loki can be found moving from one deserted house to another, rifling through cabinets, rummaging in closets, or even knocking against floorboards. He looks preoccupied, but he lives for interruption.]

[personal profile] ex_forcechoke292 2016-12-04 04:51 am (UTC)(link)
week two
[A rough terrain and a long journey, while rare enough back home when a raging war leaves little in the way of downtime, hadn't seemed quite so bad. Stalked by strange creatures, even, had been easy enough to deal with. The first week had passed with little incident when Anakin had been able to occupy himself with building and generally making himself useful.

Passing through that first gate, however, has changed all of that entirely. The effect of "powering down" is noticeable instantaneously: losing his connection to the Force feels...well, a lot like being ripped in half. He's stumbling, coming through the other side of that gate, finding it difficult to breathe let alone continue to stand up straight. He falls to his knees a moment later, staring hard at the rocky ground cutting into his legs as he continues to breathe heavily. His vision doesn't seem to ever focus, and he barely notices the discomfort sharp ground beneath him.

Using the Force has always been second nature, long before he'd ever known how to define it or what that sixth sense was called. Rather than a sense on its own, it had been more like a sense that fed into all existing others, and having that pulled away is like losing all of them at once. He tries to reach out, and his mind only reels in place, his vision only stays focused right there on the rocks, his feeling still fails to register, and he registers no sound in the periphery for a long time, or until he's jarred out of the sudden shock.]



week four
[The respite is more than welcome when it comes. Two weeks now without the feeling he's so used to, and he still feels like he's walking blind, or without a limb he can't define where it should go or how it should work only that it's definitely missing, and exhaustion comes quicker than he knows how to register when he's so used to pushing himself to even the Force's magnanimous limits.

Trying to celebrate a meager holiday out here--whatever there is left to be celebrated--seems gauche when they still have so much farther to go, but as an unspoken sentiment, he'll take the break whatever the necessary excuse to get there. It's quietly reminding of that unremarkable childhood spent with nothing but the people around him, and if nothing else, he can get behind that.

Anakin hangs around the celebration on the periphery, not feeling particularly festive. Or talkative. Or aware of too much at all beyond the obviously read misery and exhaustion he wouldn't need the Force's help to read through the gathering. But he won't turn away company if it's given.]
shiro2hero: (Dont use space wifi for porn)

Shiro the exhausted Space Dad | OTA

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2016-12-04 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
>> WEEK 1
[A week might not be enough time to really recouperate from cracked ribs, but there's nothing to be done. He'd pulled the armor back on a long while ago, helped load up whatever and whoever he could. Sure, it hurt, but there isn't anything to be done about it. He has to pitch in. Pure and simple.]

[Afterward, of course, he's one of those who ends up going out looking for supplies. And food. He's not exactly a wilderness expert, but more hands on deck won't hurt. Probably borrowing a weapon from the other crew members, since trying to take down a deer with just a glowing metal hand is probably a terrible idea. See? He can plan.]

[As the week progresses, though, those wandering carnivores attract his attention. Because they're cats. Not lions, sure, but. Cats. And they're sort of a sight for sore eyes.]

[Needless to say, if he's not out trying to find supplies, the ever-weary head of Voltron is trying to entice a purple space tiger to share some of his ration of deer.]

[That's leadership for you, apparently.]



>> WEEK 2
[It happens at a terrible time. When he's trying to help someone unload something too heavy from the floating hover beds. With the arm, it wouldn't be too heavy at all. But given where they are, and what's happening through their ranks, the inhuman strength of it fails.]

[Abruptly.]

[There's an undignified yelp of shock as it pulls down hard on muscle and healing bone. He nearly falls off the hover bed, staggering. It falls to the ground, leaving him grasping the metal limb in stunned silence. That's. Never happened before.]

[He lifts it cautiously, his face gone pale.]


What's wrong with it now...?



>> WEEK 3
[Of course he volunteered to go in and explore the caves. Maybe you're with him. But either way, he's going to be examining them with interest, including the glowing parts. They remind him, sort of, where they found the Blue Lion.]

[That's a good memory.]

[What isn't a good memory is the sudden appearance of the cave's occupants. Who seem unhappy to see the unnatural light from the explorers. So, of course... he's going to shove whoever is with him behind him, taking his usual fighting stance -- one arm held in front of them like a weapon, forgetting for an instant the arm has no more power to it.]


Stay still. Maybe we can back away slowly.

[And then it charges.]


>> WEEK 4
[He opts to stay at camp this time, on the fringes of the party -- or what passes for one. It's quiet, and he appreciates that. But, more importantly, it's a good chance to wander and check up on people he hasn't yet.]

[Or, you know, get the old injuries from the Moira's crash checked out again.]
[Run into him anywhere!]


WILDCARD
[CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE!]
pleasereset: luxji on tumblr (Creepy)

Asriel Dreemurr

[personal profile] pleasereset 2016-12-04 08:35 am (UTC)(link)
[Week One - Closed to Frisk. CW: Self-harm, attempted suicide]

[They made it. Everyone could be doing a lot better, but they've all landed and were off the ship. The Moira was gone - Asriel's only place of safety (it was never safe) now just a wreckage of ship parts. Now they were on a planet forced to find food and shelter as they continue on their journey.

After everything that's happened, the journey ahead of them seemed so exhausting. What were they going to find on this planet? More danger, probably. Maybe they'll run into slavers again. Maybe they'll find more people who want to wear his skin like a suit!

It hurts. He doesn't want to complete this journey. He doesn't want to go home where he doesn't even know if he'll get the kind of happy ending he wants (he won't). Mettaton had done his best to reassure him, and Asriel wanted more than anything to cling to those words like a lost child looking for some sliver of hope in an adult they could trust and take comfort in.

But it wasn't like that. Asriel couldn't be a scared, easily comforted child anymore. And without knowing what kind of fate he was marching towards, without knowing what kind of timeline Frisk had set out for them to return to, Asriel didn't want to be there for the ending. He can't handle that moment when that sliver of hope inevitable turns into despair.

He won't be there when it happens. He won't. He's... he's done enough, hasn't he? He's stayed their entire journey. And they were almost at the end now.

They didn't need him there for the ending. It was cowardly, perhaps. Maybe he was just trying to convince himself that everything would be okay in the end. Because he doesn't know how to fix it if it's not. All he knows how to do is run.

Alone with his thoughts after wandering off a ways from the camp, Asriel turns his identity disk over in his hands. It was a funny little thing, to hold your entire being in your hand and still know so little about it.

Maybe if he broke it, he'd finally have the proof he needed. Maybe his SOUL would come out of it, and he'd know once and for all what he was. It'd be easy to just... smash it up a little, right? He just wants to see it. He just wants to know it's there.

If it does worse to him than just exposing his SOUL ... then that means he doesn't have to hurt anymore, right?

He lifts the disk up in his hands, lifting it high and smashes it against the ground. It doesn't break or reveal his SOUL, but there's a crunch from the impact. It's not enough, he has to do it again but harder-

He lifts the disk again to smash it again.

One more time. He just needs to see it. Please just let him see it.]


[Week Three | OTA]



[After a very few exhausting weeks of foraging, finding supplies, and being talked down from doing something very awful by your only sibling, Asriel is pressing forward. He isn't really strong or fast enough to hunt food, but trying to find supplies is a good enough distraction from everything else.

He finds a series of houses, seemingly unoccupied - or so he hopes. As he tries to enter one, a dart suddenly hits his neck. The pain only lasts for a second before an intense drowsiness starts to set in. He stumbles and sinks to the ground before he can call out for help, but he's far too exhausted to panic properly.]


S-someone... h... hel... p....

[And he goes down with a hard thump, the world turning to black around him. Anyone who stumbles across him a while later will find him slumped forward with a slightly cracked identity disk strapped to his back. He's not awake, but with enough shaking he can be woken up from his unintentional sleep.]
forgeabettertomorrow: (I don't really get it but...)

WEEK ONE

[personal profile] forgeabettertomorrow 2016-12-04 08:37 am (UTC)(link)
[Darin had been wandering around the makeshift camp, doing his best to tend to anyone who needed it and taking any requests and orders for supplies he could fulfill when he thought he saw someone skulk off alone.]

[Now, the captains had said that people shouldn't wander off alone, and on uncharted terrain, going off by yourself was an absolutely terrible idea. Hell, even Darin knew that.]

[So, he straps a spare set of daggers to his back and follows the stranger to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble. He follows Loki at a distance until he sees him stop. Darin tilts his head slightly in confusion, wondering if he'd spotted something interesting. Well, only one way to find out, right? Darin trundles over unceremoniously.]


Hey there, friend. Couldn't help noticing you left camp all alone. That's a bad idea, you know. Good thing I followed!

So, you find anything interesting?
Edited 2016-12-05 02:40 (UTC)
mttbrandlegs: <user name=moa810 site=deviantart.com> ((95) moa)

[personal profile] mttbrandlegs 2016-12-04 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Mettaton had been doing very well in avoiding his friends, it seemed. It wasn't that he hated Asriel, not at all. He just...wanted to give the small boss monster space, and to keep from monopolizing his emotional responses, to keep from making him suffer Mettaton's own insecurities and struggles.

Of course...when he couldn't find Asriel around the general population later--not to talk, just to know the kid's safe--Mettaton does start looking. And he does find the boy.

As if he hasn't spent those three weeks shying away from Asriel, Mettaton moves close to him, tugging the dart from his neck and picking him up gingerly. The worry on his face is intense, especially when he sees the damaged identity disk. That can't be good.

Gently, he shakes Asriel. Please...please be safe...]


Asriel? Honey, wake up! Asriel!
pleasereset: goat-son on tumblr (Hurt)

[personal profile] pleasereset 2016-12-04 09:19 am (UTC)(link)
[Asriel doesn't remember when he passed out. The last thing he does remember was a sense of dread. But when he finally starts to wake up, Mettaton's blurry face starts to come into focus.]

Wh... ow...

[It doesn't really hurt, but he feels so incredibly groggy as he wakes up. What happened to him?]
Edited 2016-12-04 09:21 (UTC)
mttbrandlegs: <user name=moa810 site=deviantart.com> ((102) moa)

[personal profile] mttbrandlegs 2016-12-04 09:23 am (UTC)(link)
[Thank god.

Mettaton's frantic words cease, as does the shaking, and he tries to hold Asriel more comfortably, one arm supporting the boy while the other presses to his cheek in both a show of concerned care and to perhaps feel for any fever. There was no telling what had really happened.]


Take it easy, darling. Talk when you're ready.
pleasereset: airinn on tumblr (Painful on the inside)

[personal profile] pleasereset 2016-12-04 09:34 am (UTC)(link)
Mettaton...?

[His name is slurred, but Asriel's getting a little more coherent. His eyes close when Mettaton presses his hand up against his cheek, but there's no fever.

It's hard to wake up though. Just like those times where he's stayed up way too late - only this feels a lot worse. More like someone's trying to hold his eyelids shut, and his whole body feels like it has a ton of bricks attached to it. Needless to say, he doesn't move around too much aside from craning his neck to get a better look at Mettaton.]


I'm so sleepy... I think something bit me but I didn't see it...
warandpeace: (I ĸɴow wнαт ιт мeαɴѕ тo wαlĸ αloɴɢ)

Kazuhira Miller

[personal profile] warandpeace 2016-12-04 11:11 am (UTC)(link)
☄ WEEK ONE | Rest stop | OTA
[Kaz is cooking up some of the hunted meat while it's still fresh. There's not a lot of water, not enough to risk boiling for soup, so he's just cooking thin strips of it. Hoping that would get it cooked through (it's hard to tell on strange space animals). It's something useful to do and it's one of the things Miller is pretty good at.]

[Hunting seems like it would have been a good use of their time, a situation the dogs would be most useful for, but he keeps them around their resting spot. His excuse? They're good guards in the event of stalking predators. His real intention? He doesn't want to send Venom out to kill the potentially mild-mannered wildlife. Not that his former Boss couldn't do it but he's sure other people will, and they'll bring some back, and it's not worth the waste of energy and the additional weight on the situation.]

[He hopes that sad grizzled Disney Princess with a tragic ending listened to him when he was told to stick around with the dogs and watch the area.]

[Miller offers up some finished strips to someone standing nearby.] Do you know how many rations we managed to save after the crash? Most of what I came across was dehydrated. [Something that's not really useful right now.]


☄ WEEK THREE | settlement salvage | ota
[Inside of someone's abandoned room, Miller finds a decent flashlight finally, along with their sporty exploration gear. Remnants of what might have been work or hobby. He leaves gloved finger-shapes in dust-covered surfaces as he looks around for anything. Old protien bars, a picture frame with the image of young friends making happy faces at a camera (he turns the thing face down as the owner is obviously no longer anywhere around to have it spark pleasant memories).]

[In a sitting room there's a small decorative shrine thing. Candles have melted over the edge of a shelf, left burning by whoever disappered.]

[It makes him wonder about the people absent on the ship as well. He needs to have a good sit-down with the captains, ask them more about people being gone. Because they sure as hell have left here, too (and with more angry Ingresses, it's rousing a sense of distress). His mind is preoccupied when he feels his foot catch something, the air suddenly filled with a harsh, too sweet scent.]

[He chides himself for not having noticed sooner. The room was too dark. They set up traps to stop whatever it was after them, didn't they? Of course they did. He wishes he knew what had went on here.]

[Well, he can't really think too much on it right then. He just ends up having to get out of the room quickly while the world spins around him, practically falling out the front door of the house and onto the ground. The odor follows him out, and he regrets not having brought Joy in with him. This is fine, though. He'll just take a moment to stay hunched there and catch his breath and try not to pass out.]
foodsofmypeople: (Using biotics)

ota, prose or brackets okay

[personal profile] foodsofmypeople 2016-12-04 01:47 pm (UTC)(link)
i

Crashing spaceships. A worryingly familiar part of Kaidan's life, and frankly an experience that he could do without. At least this time, it's not quite such a mad scramble for escape pods, and panic that open space will kill you. Just the land. And gravity. Little things like that.

But he kept himself busy for now, helping out where he could, using his biotics to help lift cryopods and the like to where they needed to be. There was a lot that needed to be done to be able to move everyone safely, and he was willing to do the hard work, though he'd pay for it later, biotic appetites being what they were. He'd be in trouble in a few days, when he couldn't get the calories he needed, but for now, he'd work.

It was odd the things that reminded him of being home in Canada. He half expected to walk around the corner and see his family's orchard in the distance.

ii

Passing through the gate, it felt like something was being ripped away from him. The implant at the back of his neck tingled, and he could feel a migraine suddenly coming over him. Staggering a little under the pressure of it, he reached out for support, grabbing at the nearest person, not caring who it was. He needed to sit down before he collapsed.

iv

Celebrating Christmas, but not like any Christmas he knew. In Canada, it was all gentle celebrations out in his families orchard, or the joyous exuberation that was Vancouver, with all the soldiers into dock. Out in space, it was an excuse for a skeleton crew and a day off. The last few years had been subdued, knowing that the Reapers were coming and here? It didn't seem like they had much to celebrate, but you never knew. He'd try to make the best of it, but truth was he wasn't much of a party person. He was always the one on the outside.
justice_from_above: (pic#10300368)

Week One

[personal profile] justice_from_above 2016-12-04 05:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Pharah is pretty quick to volunteer for scouting as well, and while she's trying to limit her armor use, she wears it out on these excursions; it has proven invaluable in order to get an aerial view of the terrain ahead, especially if they're coming to a tricky obstacle; is it worth trying to maneuver through? Or is there a path of easier resistance nearby?]

[She approaches Darin as they're getting ready to head out for one such mission, finessing her armored glove.]


Are you ready to head out?
Edited 2016-12-04 17:31 (UTC)
justice_from_above: <a href="http://jeen-leee.tumblr.com/">Source</a> (pic#10673792)

Week One

[personal profile] justice_from_above 2016-12-04 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm not sure. I grabbed a few myself before I left that I can throw to the communal pile.

[Fareeha gratefully takes the meat as she settles down next to Miller. She's looking a little worse for wear in terms of general fatigue, but at least she's not in her armor right now. She is still down to the black basesuit in case, of course, there were any immediate need for her to wear it again; she's ready.]

mttbrandlegs: <user name=monolithia site=tumblr.com> ((121) monolithia)

[personal profile] mttbrandlegs 2016-12-04 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
You could say that. It was actually a trap, you must have stepped on some manner of pressure plate that activated it.

[He reaches down, pulling up the blowdart and showing it to Asriel. If he could even see it.]

It seems the trap was meant to tranquilize, not kill. Otherwise you'd be...

[Mettaton doesn't finish his sentence. He's too concerned to do such a thing. Besides, who wants to hear 'otherwise you'd be much sicker than this, I think'.]

...Point being, it's time to wake up. I'll bring you back to camp, and we will see if there is anything the medically inclined can do for you, alright?
saveyourserpent: (heh)

Liquid Snake | ota

[personal profile] saveyourserpent 2016-12-04 06:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[A. HERE WE GO (WEEK 1)]

All of this running around reminds Liquid of his childhood, when he'd got the hell away from his handlers and had to survive on his own. Hunting, scrounging up potential edible plantlife, scarce resources, ahh, memories. And since they're pretty much heading towards where they're supposed to go anyway, maybe it's not the absolute worst that the Moira's a destroyed wreck. Even though he liked his old room and all that stuff. Oh well! This sort of thing always happens, doesn't it? He's ready to handle this, for sure. Soon he'll be able to get home and figure out what the hell he's going to do.

He stuck his TAB to his now-useless MID for simplicity's sake, because of course he did. And he'd fashioned the container carrying all his shrunken things into a backpack. He is one hundred percent ready to get the hell out of here.

Every so often he changes to smoke form accidentally, but he's able to get enough of a handle on it these days that he turns right back, with no damage to his belongings. His dog's not even all that confused by it anymore. It still might be alarming when the guy you were hunting with pretty much disappears for a moment, though.

Sorry about that.

[B. MAKING PEOPLE NORMAL (WEEK 2)]

There comes a point when Liquid realizes he's been staying corporeal more than normal. Like, all the time. And since he'd sort of figured out how to change on demand, he tries to do so, and realizes he can't.

It's not the biggest problem; he's still skilled enough at fighting and all that that he could kick quite a few butts if necessary. It's just an annoyance, like how the power had been going haywire on the Moira. Spend enough time getting used to something, and then you have to deal with this shit. And here he'd been hoping it could prove useful once he really got the hang of it.

Frustrating, but he's alive, at least. Good thing he got all his genetic death problems ironed out, or things could be much, much worse.

Of course, it's not hard to find people who might be having a harder time than he is; since his powers were so new, it's not like it'd be hard to adjust to not having them. "You alright?"

[C. OUR HOUSE (WEEK 3)]

Exploring the settlements isn't bringing Liquid much in the way of normal supplies, but that doesn't deter him any. Junk can be pretty damn useful, as the guy with a collection of knives he put together from scrap metal (and rescued from cargo bay) should know.

He's rifling through a drawer when he hears someone come in. He stops and turns his head a bit to see who it is.

"Hey, careful with that. See how that spot looks a little weirder than the others? Looks like they've set up some sort of trap there. Wouldn't touch it if I were you. Who knows what the hell it does."

[D. WILDCARD (ANY WEEK)]

[the usual stuff about picking your own stuff or plotting with me here or at [plurk.com profile] agentkaz!]
forgeabettertomorrow: (That's amazing!)

Re: Week One

[personal profile] forgeabettertomorrow 2016-12-04 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[Darin was in the process of stuffing the pac0disc left to him inside of his makeshift bag. If they found anything useful, being able to carry it back would be essential.]

Yeah, I'm just about ready to--

[He stops as he turns to see Pharah, and his eyes start to wander all over her armor.]

...Okay, I need to meet the guy who is handing out full suits of incredibly forged armor so I can pick his brain because...wow.
justice_from_above: (pic#10690677)

Pharah

[personal profile] justice_from_above 2016-12-04 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Week One

Between the monsters, the crash, collecting survivors, and the current scouting and travel missions, Fareeha is exhausted. Although she's taken to not wearing her armor now when she doesn't expressly need it, she'd spent far more time in it here that at home and the weight of it is starting to wear her down despite her honed physique.

In addition to the physical consequences of being available and vigilant, her mind is stretched thin as she worries about those friends and family she hasn't seen or heard from yet, and the constant ever-present threat of Reaper that hasn't left her since their first encounter. These are unspoken worries - though she may inquire about the people she cares about - but it's all visible in the slight sag to her shoulders. She needs a decent night's sleep and some hearty food, but without either she settles for uneasy catnaps and whatever scraps are available to her.

Still, she volunteers for patrol and night watch shifts, unable to sit back and relax while they're in such a vulnerable state. You won't find her complaining.

Week Two

Fortunately for Fareeha, her skills and abilities were gained through normal means; the absence of such was not as much of a shock as others might find themselves in. However, it is still enough to render her entirely unable to bear armor, so it remains stashed in the PacDisc and she's back to wearing the provided uniforms from their arrival.

Overall she is starting to feel a little better, and focuses her attention on helping anyone else out that might need it; finding themselves compromised, or finding themselves brought in from one of the scattered Ingresses (and still probably feeling compromised in some way).

Week Three

Week three she's back to exploring - still without her armor and feeling more rested from the forced break from it. She'll eagerly venture down into the caves with others (certainly not a good idea going alone).

Wildcard

Open to anything!
justice_from_above: (pic#10326696)

[personal profile] justice_from_above 2016-12-04 08:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's used to people making a fuss about the armor, but it's been a while. She chuckles.]

I am sorry to disappoint but I brought this kit with me when I arrived.

[Even then, she wasn't in the know about who specifically had designed it - beyond Helix's R&D branch.]
forgeabettertomorrow: (come on trust me!)

[personal profile] forgeabettertomorrow 2016-12-04 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Okay, I have to admit, I'm kind of glad for that. That means I'm still technically the best damn blacksmith on board.

[He grins and thumbs at himself.]

The name's Darin Altway, Master Blacksmith and I'm always at your service. I hope you don't mind if I pick your brain while we do some scouting.
pleasereset: mearisuu on deviantart (Done with this shit)

[personal profile] pleasereset 2016-12-04 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[He can see it for the most part, as a look on confusion spreads across his face. The houses were booby trapped...?]

... Is everything on this dumb planet gonna be a trap or something that wants to kill us.

[Well he's awake enough to be bitter about it.]

I-I think I can stand up.

[He can't without some help, but he doesn't know that yet.]
mttbrandlegs: <user name=mel12da2 site=tumblr.com> ((39) mel12da2)

[personal profile] mttbrandlegs 2016-12-04 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Well. It wasn't meant to kill.

[That's all Mettaton says on the subject, before straightening up. He takes hold of Asriel's upper body, setting him on his feet just to let him test his legs.

Because he doesn't believe that Asriel can just...walk immediately.]


Try and walk.