thisavrou_log | ( event )

Entry tags:

( event )

Who: The crew of the Moira
When: 9/18 to 9/30
Where: Planet and ship
What: Main event; all info inside
Warnings: Effects from Exuo, heavy and graphic themes

PENUMBRA

"Into the darkness they go..."

As the crew enters its third week aboard the Moira, the majority of supplies have been gathered, and everyone will find themselves with more free time than before. The marketplace has offered numerous diversions, as well as the opportunity to trade for items they need or want. Life on the Moira is relatively peaceful, and there have been no unusual occurrences. Excursions onto the planet have yielded an invaluable resource called Exuo, which has been determined to be a rare mineral that is used for multiple purposes. A general awareness has spread among those aboard the Moira that, while it is used as an additive to food and drink, resulting in a slightly elevated change in demeanor and leaving a person feeling generally better, it is also in the air they breathe. The effects of Exuo will vary from person to person.

Yet...

Things have started to change. The once vibrant sunlight that hasn’t given anyone a moment’s reprieve is now slowly beginning to disappear, and with it, a shadow is being cast across the horizon. The red dust is more noticeable now than ever, blanketing every surface, and the planet’s true grunge surfaces.

☄THE EMPTY MARKET

The hustle and bustle of the marketplace has slowly started to taper off, leaving behind empty stalls and hastily closed up shops. What visitors the crew have encountered are no longer so friendly; they won’t say a word as to where they are going or why. All that’s left are the few things they could not carry with them to their own ships before leaving. But is it worth the peculiar looks the natives are giving as you traverse the now quiet streets to take them? What is this abrupt feeling of unease weighing down on your shoulders?

The only living things that remain, aside from them, are the members of the Moira, but it’s not a comforting notion, especially if you step into the ever-growing shadows.

☄THE NATIVES

With light dwindling quickly, nothing is safe anymore. Those people with the plain masks and hoods worn to hide their faces? They’re not so quiet and not so friendly now. Their behavior drastically deteriorates the darker it becomes, shifting from harmless and complacent to feral and dangerous. They lash out at anyone who gets too close, and they don’t hesitate to drag away those foolish enough to get closer. And those masks and hoods? They, too, have been tossed aside with the slow setting of those distant stars.

● Aside from physical outbursts, some of them may be found trying to damage the transporters to prevent return to the Moira.
● Their mouths appear sunken in, stained red like the Exuo this planet is known for. Or is that something else soaked into their skin? Are you sure all those visitors made it back to their own ships? Their small black eyes never seem to close either.
● They are thin in stature but relatively strong. It will take more than one person to overpower them.
● If approached, they will retaliate with sharp nails and teeth. Their movements are aggressive, meant to disable but not kill.
● Killing the natives comes with no reprimand from the captains.

☄PURLOIN & OBLATION

The suns have eclipsed.

What light there is can only be found through artificial sources, and with the lack of light also comes alterations in the crew’s own mood. Where MIDs had detected a decrease in stress and increase in endorphins, that is no longer the case now. Some may find themselves irritable for no reason, while others are torn between fits of paranoia and excessive anger. The pleasant sweetness of the Exuo in the air has dissipated, leaving a staleness behind, and those that have been exposed longer to the surface of the planet suffer extensively more than those who have not left the safety of the Moira for extended periods of time.

However, most crew members will find themselves desperate to return to the empty marketplace or even the mines. Perhaps they are in search of more Exuo, or maybe they simply want to find those natives to question them or take out that aggression on something not so fragile. During this time, disappearances are more noticeable than ever, and those who go in search of friends and crew may find more than they bargained for.

●the seized: The darkness is unerringly quiet, and the natives that still linger on the planet have faded away with the sun. Maybe you find yourself in the deserted marketplace, or outside the wreckage of a transporter that’s been torn apart. The sounds you hear come from your left and grow steadily louder beside you. The sudden irritability that the crew has been experiencing multiplies and transforms into a paranoia that leaves you wanting to beg for the sun to return. Thin but strong arms wrap around you, long fingers with sharp nails dig into your skin. They don’t speak, or attack with the intent to hurt you, merely pull you away and back into the shadows. Whether you struggle or fight back doesn’t matter, try to get free.
●the subjugated: With your arms and feet bound, you wake up in an unfamiliar place. It may be hard to remember where you were last, or it may be crystal clear. You were taken by a group of the planet’s natives, tied up and thrown into a hollowed out pit in the ground. The dirt smells sickeningly sweet, metallic, and it overpowers your senses. There are others around you, both crew members from the Moira and people you might recognize from the marketplace. You know now that the disappearances weren’t random, or normal, and are the result of the natives capturing explorers and traders for their own unknown reasons. **
●the scarified: They want the the light back. This much is clear now. The natives believe their sun was stolen, and the only way to guarantee its return is through offering worthy sacrifices. With whatever dim lighting there is, you make out the shape of an altar slathered in something wet and dark. You are on your knees beside others that were chosen, waiting in line to be sacrificed. The person ahead of you is lifted and carried to the altar, and with the natives gathered together,chanting growing louder, there are quick movements before everything goes still all at once. Are you next? Or has someone come to save you?

The only reprieve from this nightmare is the familiar sound of the Moira’s transporter ships landing nearby. The crew has banded together and are on their way to free you. **

☄ASCENSION

The planet is no longer safe. Through a series of disturbing events, it has become clear that the crew cannot stay. Supplies has been gathered, hopefully enough to last until they can find another place to dock, and the captains, through the MID devices and in person, are ushering everyone back to the ship. It is imperative that everyone board swiftly so that they can make a hasty retreat. There is nothing left for anyone here.

( ooc; ** These options are for those who signed up for the event. All other characters are encouraged to rescue their crewmates from these situations as quickly as possible! For questions and/or plot, go here. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

☄ the empty market: The rine in spine sties minely in the pline.

[Eggsy's no expert, but he knows something ain't right. He's spent most of his time on planet, doing his job, and just generally taking a look about. So he notices when everyone's gone. The stalls are empty, ships have left, but the one thing that strikes him the most funny is that stuff was left behind.

People don't do that. That's something that goes across all the universes, he thinks. People ain't the types to just be leaving stuff that's theirs. Especially if they were trying to sell it for money. It makes him uneasy, and he's not one to keep quiet when he's uncomfortable.]

Fuck's goin' on?

[He's not talking to a native, even though they keep creeping by, but to another crew member from the Moira who is close enough to speak to.]

☄ the natives: I sold flowers; I didn't sell myself.

[What the fuck.]

What am I supposed to do with a fuckin' whip?

[His voice is raised but he's not actually talking to anyone in particular. He's just angry that he'd asked for a weapon and the captain had given him a whip. The Fuck? But he's resourceful and adaptable if he's anything, so he brandishes that thing with finesse that just doesn't seem like it should belong to him.

Eggsy's great with gun, top marks there, but he's a Kingsman and a Kingsman Agent can make do with any weapon he's given.]

Fuck yeah!

[The crack of the whip is loud, and the responding sound he makes is a happy one, as it hits its mark and knocks one of the natives back. They were attacking a transporter and when he'd confronted them, they'd attacked him instead. He's got a scratch on his arm, and he's hoping that more of the crew show up to help.]

[ Somebody has been paying exceptionally little attention to the duties at hand, ever since they got ferried down to a place that had Other Ships Take Off From Here written in the brochure.

...Okay, so the brochure didn't say that, and there wasn't a brochure in the first place, but point being, Fiona's been looking for a way to get the hell out of her new job slash kidnapping. Success on that front has been mixed. Good news is, there's plenty of people leaving, and with a little charm (and/or a bribe in the form of a shitton of kazoos, but that option's somewhere around Escape Plan Theta) Fiona might be one of 'em.

The bad news got Fiona slammed against the other side of that transporter, sharp nails juuuuust a bit closer to her eyes than she likes 'em. Catches sight of a "fellow crewmember" just 'round the corner though. ]

Jh--

[ Her hands clutch tightly around the masked maniac's wrist, trying to keep hi- his? fingers at bay. Just for that effort Fiona gets jerked closer suddenly, and slammed into the side of the transporter all over again. Look what's finally starting to feel like home. And internal bleeding.

So... same thing, basically. ]

Just wrap it 'round their neck and choke 'em!

[ She jerks up her knee, a little something to keep a respectable distance between her and those teeth, though it looks like she's looking at a very temporary solution there. ]

Hey! Hey, go on, try it on this one, maybe-- Maybe right now!

[You know what Eggsy likes? Dogs. You know what else he likes? Right fit birds that kick ass. He doesn't have one of those here, but he's just stumbled across the other.

At her suggestion, he's thinking it might actually be a good thing that he's got this whip, he does just that. Well, sorta. He grasps each end of the whip in a hand, pulling it taut.]

Now!

[Eggsy does this little kick thing, which is pretty fucking cool even though it was an accident that he'd claim he did on purpose, that knocks the feet out from under one of the natives. Then he's next to the woman, behind the native, lifting and dropping his arms so the whip hooks just under its chin.

And he yanks, hard.]

I hope you gotta gun. [Cause he's been kicking and hitting for what feels like hours and it's not doing anything. He twists his hands to increase the pressure of the leather, pulling even harder against the struggling alien.] Or somethin'!

☄ Marketplace: "Sink for you to swim, dancing on the ledge": Tony, much to his dismay when he finds out the correlation, has spent a decent amount of time on the surface of the planet. He enjoyed mingling and he enjoyed the new experiences. He enjoyed the new foods and he enjoyed the opportunities the trades offered. The vendors were fairly pleasant and the locals were strange, but didn't seem hostile. At least while the suns shone in the sky. The eclipse was odd, something else interesting about the planet apart from the sweet air. But upon his return, a headache was developing and his mood was sharply declining. Somehow, that drove him to the planet, but it didn't seem to help. There was a distinct lack of sweetness in the air with the eclipse and the surface seemed to be a ghost town.

He happened upon a hostile and a well-laced repulsor blast incapacitated the bug-eyed creepy little alien. Were these the locals? Was this what they looked like behind the masks? He didn't like that idea any, but he thought it was probably time to get the hell out of Dodge. Another encounter cut him off from his transport.

"Okay Gollum. I'm in a real shitty mood and you're in my way." The repulsor was aimed out in front of him again. It had been detached from his suit and snapped into a housing he scrapped together that latched onto the MID over the back of his hand. It rested nicely in his palm, as it did in the suit. It was controlled through the neural link and subcutaneous micro-computers implanted throughout his body. A small bracelet-like attachment that fit snug against his wrist provided it with power, also scrapped out of his suit. "I should've known better than to take candy from strangers."
☄ Mines: "Hard time forgiving, even harder forgetting": So heading back to the Moira was a bit of a bust. He decided he'd put his aggression and frustration to good use, going to help fight and see if he could help out any other crewmates. People could be trapped or isolated with less fighting experience than his. He'd happened across a gun with only four bullets and a completely useless broken bottle. Seriously. If he got close enough to use the latter, whatever he was fighting would kick his ass before he could use it. And four bullets? Someone must think they're funny, because he can't hit the broad side of a barn without targeting software. He edged towards the rocks, gun in one hand, repulsor in the other, leaning around the corner.

"Anyone in there? I'm kicking ass and taking names today, so if someone wants a path back to the transporters, I'm your guy."
☄ Mess (for 616 Tony): "Before you do something, you might regret, friend": This... whatever it was was driving Tony Stark crazy! He'd only been back from the planet for two hours since the suns went dark and he felt oddly like he was trying to crawl out of his own skin. FRIDAY warned him that his stress levels were alarmingly high, releasing a specific stress hormone into his system in response. He became increasingly irritable and metaphorically itchy. He lost focus and snapped at people he called friends. ...worse than usual. He even muted FRIDAY and fled his room and abandoned his attempts to sleep. As if on auto-pilot, he found himself in the mess hall, working on muscle memory to find a cure for this issue. The cure came in a hideously coloured liquid with an even worse taste. He tucked himself off in a corner and downed a whole cup before he saw another person. Whatever it was, was stronger than anything he'd ever had before. He considered himself a high-functioning alcoholic, but this was insane.

Head down, propped into his hands, he stared down at the cup, well into his second, reflecting on several choices he'd made today. Terrible, awful choices. He was fighting the urge to return to the planet and question the natives. Had they put something in his food? Was this a common side-effect of something in the fruit, maybe?

[OOC: Bracket or Prose, idc which. If you wanna tag him elsewhere, feel free to give me your own starter.]

Edited 2015-09-18 19:26 (UTC)

[Tony had been stupid. He'd trusted the venture down to the planet enough to leave his armor behind for a trip, and even though he hadn't spent that much time exposed on the surface, he was paying for it now. The sweetness in the air had made him feel invigorated and in better spirits than he had been in some time during his exploration, but that should have been the first warning sign of trouble. Thinking back now, he was an idiot.

Damn it.

He's wearing the armor again now. Even though it's too late to take back his mistake, Tony is covering up while he can. He's too aware of the fact he's sweating and unsteady as he sneaks out of his room and into the mess hall. He tries not to think about why he's there, telling himself that it's only to get out of the cramped shared space, so no one else sees him looking like a wreck-

And then he realizes that he's not the only one in the room. His body tenses when he realizes who he's looking at and what the other man has in his hand, and the words are out before he even thinks about it.]

What the hell are you doing?

[He hears the voice before he sees the owner, looking up almost startled at first to see the armoured being standing there. Armour so familiar yet so unfamiliar. A different design to be sure. Then his muddled mind makes sense of it; this is the other Tony. He huffs and rolls his eyes, dropping his gaze back down to the alcohol between his hands. He'd take Cap's or even Pepper's disapproving tones right now over his own.]

What does it look like I'm doing, hot shot?

[The glass is held so tightly between his hands now that it might actually give, but then he lets go and pushes it away.]

Taking the edge off. Getting rid of the damned... whatever is wrong with me. Friday said it looks like withdrawal symptoms of heavy drug use. Thank you, somehow that planet has turned me into a heroin addict! So why the hell not?

Eggsy Unwin | ota

no subject

no subject

Tony Stark (MCU)

no subject

no subject

mines please

no subject

marketplace;

no subject

Tron | OTA

no subject

no subject

Garrus Vakarian

☄PURLOIN & OBLATION; the seized

☄PURLOIN & OBLATION; the sacrificed

☄ASCENSION

miles vorkosigan

pre-kidnapping;

the sacrificed;

Adrian 'Force' Clark | OTA

Moira

Seized & Subjugated

Billy Kaplan | Marvel 616 | ota