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 Moira; Don't you ever tame your demons

[Adrian and angry tension seemed to go hand in hand as the days got darker. He hadn't realized it himself, but he'd come into contact with a little too much Exuo; especially with his greed on the mission to go and acquire some of the substance himself. He didn't search for a deeper meaning either, he just wallowed in his anger and irritation, letting it bite at him and leave him raw as he stalked around the ship with the swords he'd been delivered strapped to his back with a leather holster.

So he did the same thing that any twenty-two year old ex war machine mutant did. He got drunk. Not in the happy I'm having fun way, but rather in a way that screamed self hatred from a boy desperately trying to escape. It usually didn't matter though, because he kept to himself, got drunk quietly and was left alone in his corner keeping his mouth shut and his eyes averted.

Apparently tonight was not going to be one of those nights.]

Seized and Subjugated; But always keep them on a leash

[He'd gone down planet side for something. The something however was a thing that he didn't strictly understand or grasp. All he knew was that he needed off the ship or he'd suffocate. He hadn't even planned it well, just dressed in his thermals and went running from his room to get out of there.

It wasn't until he arrived that he remembered just how dark the place was and how disconcerting it could be to find oneself in that kind of darkness on an alien planet. It didn't stop him from doing it though, it just hang as a niggling feeling in the back of his head as kicked up dust in his path, moving quickly away from the ship until suddenly he was pitching forward like a bullet in the wind; no longer running on two feet but gliding along the planet's earth held up a few feet in his own personal gravity field.

That's what stopped him from catching movement out of the corner of his eye and his control was too erratic in that moment to stop what was happening before one of those horrible looking aliens suddenly leapt on him, something like nails or teeth puncturing the mutant's shoulders and sending him sprawling into the dust with whatever the hell this thing was on top of him. He let out something like a growl even as he can hear the sudden sharpness of pain in his shoulder blades before he rolls and comes up fighting. It was one of the perks to being fabricated as a weapon; main was momentary- his training seemingly lasted forever and superseded those unnecessary human reactions.

He doesn't even think about being able to see them between the setting sun and dust kicked up around him, instead he sends his power out as a little flare around him, feeling foreign obstructions to its field as he swung out with powerful limbs, hearing the thumping noises and physical sensations that indicated a strike.

It was almost like stress relief when he worked his powers into the mess, slamming down onto the space around him in order to alter the gravity to near crushing degrees and hell it worked well, slamming bodies to the ground for long enough for him to scrub a hand across his eyes and actually see what he was doing. The two closest aliens seemingly crushed to death in front of him; he considered a fight he was going to win. Until preternaturally strong arms came from behind, wrapping around his throat and pulling too tight,nails biting at his flesh, the grasp inescapable even while he tries to slam fruitlessly down with his powers as his vision started to turn black- not just from the sunset.

____

When Ade finally awakes he's faintly surprised. The idea of waking up had never crossed his mind. He'd thought that'd been it, going out in a fight that he couldn't even win. It was a crushing thought, considering it had been the first fight he hadn't outright won. Which meant either he was out of practise or he wasn't nearly as good as he thought- even if, realistically it was more to do with the imbalance in his head thanks to the Exuo and an inability to appropriately react in the setting he'd been in.

He didn't even know if it was a pleasant surprise though, as he lay there in something that felt like a ditch without the use of his hands. He groans a little with a muttered christ as he blinks a few times before trying to roll up onto his knees, not realizing he wasn't the only body down here.]

Ascension; But my peace has always depended, On all the ashes in my wake

[Finally it became time to leave and Ade was quiet, subdued. He hung back while the crew packed up, not offering his services to actually help. He still wore his dusty and torn thermal, barely noticing the fact that they weren't offering the level of protection they usually did. He looked almost haunted, as if he'd realized how fast he'd come to death and it shook him a little. Not in the way that a near death experience would shake most people but just because it was nothing like he'd imagined.

Ever since he'd escaped the facility he'd known death might come in one or two ways. It would either be out with a bang or by his own hand to avoid another stint being imprisoned. But what happened out there on the planet? It would've been neither- it would've been a quiet whimper.

It meant he was reverting back into his training; trying to become more of a soldier once more. Xavier's Institute, in his eyes, might've weakened him. He'd been less prepared for warfare than he should've been and it would be the only time that happened. Its with this steely resolve that he rebuilds himself, boarding the ship with the look of a man who isn't quite present.]

((OOC: Left all the prompts pretty free to any interruption. Go wild! If you want something tailored a little more personally let me know!))

Edited 2015-09-22 22:38 (UTC)

[ Tex was herself not in the best of moods. Adrian's not being very careful and Tex trips over his foot as she prepares to go by. ]

Watch what you're doing.

[ She snaps the words out a bit more harshly than intended, catching herself on the edge of his table. ]

[He'd been pouring himself a drink when someone trips over his foot. He hadn't actually expected the stranger to walk over it and stumble.

He'd thought that would be it, that she'd keep going. But instead she opened her mouth and Ade's eyes narrow, cocking an eyebrow.]

Oi, how 'bout you watch where you're bloody feet are going instead, yeah?

[ Truth of the matter is being in a human body is still kind of tripping her up sometimes. But this isn't one of them. Nope, in fact she's going to very deliberately stick her foot out, with an eyebrow raised, and shove his foot back under the table. ]

[He bares his teeth at her after she pushes his foot under the table, because really. He pours himself another shot and drinks it.]

Might not wanna do that again, mate. Won't be so happy 'bout it the next time.

[ She raises an eyebrow. ] What's that supposed to be, a threat? If you wanted to bite me, you'd get up and do it.

Ever thought that I might not have to get up to bite you? [Which was maybe revealing a little too much. Even if he was tempted to pull one of the swords off his back and just go for it after she'd been cheeky to him.]

[Tron had come back online a few moments before, his circuits dimming and brightening slowly beneath his now-torn uniform. The small glow was brightly visible in the darkness surrounding him, and he shifted to try to cover it before giving up the effort as futile.

Noticing the movement of the person nearest him, Tron pushed himself more upright, though he couldn't reach out to the other with his own hands and feet bound. He thought he recognized him, having seen him around the ship, but hadn't spoken to him before.]

Are you injured?

[Ade was already trying to work at his hands to pull himself free before deciding it was useless. If he could pull himself up and float in the air he'd be able to skip his hands under his feet. But then he heard a voice, and using his powers wasn't an option any more.

He looks to the source of the voice sharply.]

Injured? Not sure yet mate. Figure I'll know that in a bit.

[Tron nodded in acknowledgement, pushing himself closer to the other, the glowing lines on his skin briefly illuminating the darkness surrounding them. He couldn't do much about the torn uniform showing his circuits now, and he probably wouldn't have cared if Adrian had actually started floating.]

We may be able to free ourselves from these bindings if we work together.

[He eyes the other man warily, mostly because even at home glowing casually wasn't the most anticipated thing there could've been out there.]

Can probably work on them myself too, mate. [He didn't mean for there to be quite as much aggression in his voice but having his hands bound behind him wasn't helping with things. Already he was having flashbacks to the shackles of the Facility.]

[Tron stilled at the tone of the other's voice, hearing the tension and aggression.] I'm sure you can. But it may be more efficient to help each other.

[The sound of distantly chanting voices grew briefly louder, then faded away, and Tron turned his head toward it, anxiously. They weren't alone in this place.

He twists his own hands against the bonds, testing the strength.]

[He moves again, rolling until he's standing on his feet before scanning the area around him, looking for a rock or something sharp enough to sever the bindings.]

Maybe it would be, yeah. But I don't know 'bout you mate... personally I'm not used to untying people who're tied up with rope I can't even see. [Because that much was evident.]

It's not exactly what I'm used to, either. [Tron's response is dryly amused, though he wonders why the other prisoner is so wary toward him. They're both in the same situation, it seems logical to him to work together to escape.]

[He tenses his forearms against the ropes again, feeling some of the fibers begin to give way. He's quite a bit stronger than any human, and he could possibly break a weak point in the rope, given enough time and energy, but expending that much to break the bonds might not be efficient.]

You're from the ship, aren't you? What's your name? I am Tron.

[Ade just shakes his head again, angry at the bindings. He moves to place the wall of the ditch close behind him so that he could run his hands along it. The earth was gritty and sharp, compacted enough against the wall to be solid.

He tilts his head to watch Tron, keeping his own face neutral as he repeatedly drags his wrists along the wall behind him. He can feel the rocks biting at his skin the same way they must be cutting at the fibers of his bindings, moving them quicker as it happens.]

Name's Force. And yeah, I'm from the ship. [His voice only sounds slightly strained as he starts to feel moisture gathering along his wrists. It meant he was bleeding, but that would heal in time.]

It would have been better not to meet under these circumstances, but... [Tron trails off as he works on his own bonds, the stiff fabric beginning to fray and snap. He can feel the surface render on his wrists scraping and derezzing as well, but nothing that won't mend with his own repair processes.]

I do not know if we can count on any of the others from the ship to come looking for us. [They've only been there a short time, not enough to form any cohesive bonds as crewmates.] If they even know we're missing.

[The only sign that Ade was in pain was a sharp intake of breath when he finally breaks free of the bindings. He pulls his hands in front of himself and examines them momentarily, they were only flesh wounds regardless of how they dripped with blood. It meant he'd need to get them disinfected but he was sure that could be dealt with on the ship.] Yeah mate, pretty sure in a ditch with your hands tied together ain't what anyone wants when they're first saying hello to a bloke.

[He sighs and bends to work on his feet bindings.] Don't think we've got that to worry 'bout neither. Now my hands are free I'd love to see the bastards try jump me again. [Because he'd misjudged things the last time, he won't do that now.] Christ I'd love a fag. We've gotta get back to the ship for that if nothing else.

[One last twist of Tron's fingers and the rope snaps, a few scattered voxels dripping from his damaged wrists to disappear into the ground. Quickly, he tugs down the sleeves of his uniform to at least attempt to cover the glittering cuts, then brings his gloved hands around to begin working on the rope around his ankles.]

They caught me by surprise as well. [Tron frowns, briefly reaching up and back to feel at his--unfortunately empty--disc port.] ...and they've taken my weapons. Not that I can't fight without them, but I will need them back. [His discs are far more than just a tool for fighting. His entire memories and self are stored on those.]

[Tron glances over at Force with confusion, unfamiliar with that particular User term.] ...you want a what?

Edited 2015-10-06 06:15 (UTC)

Weapons? [He just chuckles at that.] That one ain't gonna be a problem either. Not all of us need something to help us fight, yeah? [Which was already revealing a little more than he'd like but he'd been caught up in a moment of arrogance.

He finishes with his feet and glances up, eyebrows knotting into a perplexed expression.] A fag mate, a cigarette. [He shakes his head slowly.] You an American then, yeah? All of you lot think I'm asking for something pretty sick when I say that.

Yes... you're right, some don't. Many of us have training or special abilities. [He looks Force over again briefly, wondering which of those applies to him, before returning his attention to the ropes on his ankles.] But as I said, I will need them back. They are more important than just for fighting. [And that's revealing a little more than he wants to as well... but the memory glitches will start to affect him soon, and he can't risk that.]

[The bonds on his feet take far less time, and he stretches out his legs after a moment.] Not American, no. [He's still more than a little confused, and it's apparent in his tone and expression.] I'm sure you can get your... cigarette? once we get back to the ship. [He stands and brushes some of the dirt from his hands and coveralls.]

[He doesn't flinch at the words training or special abilities. Instead he takes it in his stride, shrugging.] Or some of us are just normal blokes. [Which was the image he was totally putting out there. Then again, most London street rats knew how to fight or grew up knowing that the odd scuffle was commonplace.]

Well then mate, guess we gotta get your shit back then don't we. [Even if he didn't give a fuck whether or not this guy needed the things, he was just trying to play nice- the same way the captains had suggested. He couldn't be a loner all his life.]

Oh yeah? Feels like half the bloody humans in this place are Americans. [Which isn't rude of him, it was just true.] And I will, yeah. The moment we're back on that fucker i'll probably smoke like forty. [Not that he's stressed or anything.]

[Tron doesn't push the issue, as he doesn't want too many questions asked about himself, either. It's going to be fairly obvious soon enough that he's not American, not even human, with the glowing lines on his skin and the pixelating wounds on his wrists rather than blood.]

First things first, we need to get out of this pit. [He peers up... the walls are too steep to climb, and the edges too high to reach even with Tron's acrobatic abilities on his own.]

If you boost me up, I can pull you up after me.

[He knows that they both need out of the pit and he does contemplate the walls, thinking that if he wanted to he could just as easily throw himself out of the pit in a heartbeat, channelling his powers around him to lift him seamlessly from their intended prison- but that would involve revealing his powers to Tron.

Instead, he cocks his head to the side, expression to turning curious.] Oh yeah mate? An' what's to say you won't just get your arse boosted out this hole and take off running? [Because his lack of trust was one of the only things that could overwhelm the situation.]

Because that won't do either of us any good? [Tron knows the other man doesn't trust him, why should he? His tone turns slightly irritated.] Distrusting each other will only make this more difficult. If I left you alone down here and tried to escape on my own, I would have less of a chance against any enemies I came across, as they've already shown they can take me down. We have more of a chance to escape together. I have nothing to gain by leaving you here.

[He shrugs and looks up at the edge of the pit again.] If you want, I'll lift you up first. [A slightly sarcastic smile.] As long as you don't plan to leave me behind.

[Ade nods sharply.] Fine. Least you can prove you're a smart one, mate. Just wanted to make sure you realized leaving me in this pit was a shitty idea.

[He shakes his arms out, loosening the stiffness that he'd gained from lying on the floor.] Don't think you'd be able to lift me, mate. [Which was mostly because Ade was an awful lot of muscle contained in a tight, angry package. He knelt beside the edge of the pit, ready to boost Tron up.]

Adrian 'Force' Clark | OTA

Moira

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