hownkai: (Default)
Cúrre ([personal profile] hownkai) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log2016-03-01 02:40 pm

( march intro log )

Who: Everyone
When: March 1st and on
Where: The Moira + Ceta
What: The crew finds themselves on the planet of Ceta
Warnings: Potential sci-fi creature death. Please label your content!

I
N
T
R
O

L
O
G

by the inquest
"Arguments on their nature are refuted by those who return to shore, wide-eyed with tales of their savagery."

All Moirans are woken to the sounds of the ship coming to a rather grating halt some time in the early morning cycle. It’s no faster or slower than any other stop, but it is unexpected as the captains didn’t mention an upcoming disembarkment. Shortly after, a message is sent to every MID:
Navigation has informed us that we’re approaching bad traveling conditions: an overactive star. Instead of stopping on Liant El, we’ll be docking here on Ceta. Please exercise caution while gathering supplies and during excursions. Follow their safety guidelines. If the chance allows, we’ll also be signing new crew on the planet. Please greet them first and show them to the ship. Thank you.
The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar.

For those few who come through Ceta's Ingress, there will be crew of the Moira there to greet you. They tell you of the Ingress, how it is broken, even on this planet, and that the ship is headed back to the origin of this technology. This planet’s Ingress is set precariously atop a floating rock formation, the only way from one area to the next is on small air-propelled boats. Crew members will guide everyone back to the Moira and take them to the Medbay; contracts will be signed posthaste.

WELCOME TO CETA





At first glance, Ceta seems mostly inhabitable, and that's because it is. The atmosphere around the planet is surprisingly thick in most places, sometimes thin in others, and without some way to filter the air, it is mostly unbreathable; it's a giant gas planet, its core made of various molten metals and the atmosphere a mix of oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrous. Ceta's gravity is also uneven, meaning that some areas will have stronger focal points than others. The terrain, when it is visible, appears rather rocky—hardly the best conditions for life and stable living. What's more unusual, however, is that despite this fact, there is, indeed, a small populace "living" among the mist and clouds, but it's clear they do not live here year-round. It's hunting season, and they are there for the bounty.

These visitors have built small platforms that are hooked together by ropes and swinging bridges, which they call "temporaries". Unstable buildings are rare, dangerous, and spread out over these temporaries to prevent damage or accidents. The temporaries float along, swaying and shifting with the planet’s atmosphere, and posted at every point of entry and all open surfaces are a particular set of rules that everyone must abide by. They are written in dark ink and large block letters so that all passing by will stop and read them:
NO FIRE. Flammables, ignition sources, matches, lighters, and anything that creates a spark is prohibited. The atmosphere has higher levels of hydrogen, and the smallest spark will create a problem.
AIR BREATHABILITY. Monitor your vitals. Wear masks or re-breathers if needed.
WATCH THE EDGE. All walkways are the only thing from you and falling. Be cautious and watch your step.
These signs should be given their due attention. The edge is just that: the end of where it is safe to walk. If a wooden plank gives way beneath your feet, you will plummet through hundred of miles of atmosphere before hitting the planet’s thin surface. The captains reiterate that crew should be careful and stick to the main temporaries, gather supplies, visit at their leisure, and then go back to the ship.

IT'S A BIRD! IT'S A PLANE!
The organisms that have evolved on this planet are unintelligent—a fact that is told to you by the other visitors. As there is no solid materials or ways for them to interact with their environments, these giants float along within the atmosphere, though it appears that they are flying when they are merely navigating through. They travel in groups of three or more and sometimes come close to the outskirts of the temporaries. Because there is an invisible filtration dome around the temporaries, this allows the creatures to pass through without harm and return again into the mist as they please. They are difficult to see at night and are rather skittish in the presence of sudden light.







@ THE MUSEUM
Every evening when work is done, artificial light sources illuminate the streets of the temporaries. There is one bar, if you can actually call it that, but the main attraction is a museum. The support structure appears to be made out of the skeletal system of the giants that "swim" and live on Ceta, and though the outside seems rather unassuming, the inside is not for the faint of heart. As it's considered informative, there are displays of the internal structures and functions of the very creatures that seem harmless and as unintelligent as the visitors claim. There are sections of the museum dedicated to their anatomy and what makes them so valuable: inside their air sacs, which is what gives the illusion to flying through the atmosphere, is a mineral that, when harvested, attunes and sharpens the senses so that brain capacity and function excel over one-hundred percent efficiency. Likewise, aside from these informative areas, there is also a history of how and when the visitors began to hunt them for this valuable, unnamed resource.

HARVEST SEASON
Are you looking for work? Or perhaps you're bored with your duties aboard the Moira and prefer to see just what it is these visitors do during the day? Hunters will often pay for menial labor to help with the killing and retrieval of the giants of Ceta. It is by day, not by hour, and once aboard one of the many ships, you will be put to work handling equipment or being on the lookout for "signs" of the creatures. Once they've been spotted, the real work isn't in capturing them or even trying to subdue them—though they give a good fight. It's in the harvest, done below deck once they have been safely brought into the ship's cargo areas by the tethers, that can get quite gruesome. As a defense mechanism, cutting into the skin creates a rather noxious emission that can cause disorientation, hallucinations, or unconsciousness. Worst case scenarios can often result in death.

WORD LIMITS
As things are beginning to wind up (or down), something seems to have gotten into the MID systems and caused a malfunction. On the morning of 03.13, it suddenly becomes clear that communicating with others who are not from the same universe or similar timelines seems very difficult. Understanding each other becomes rather hopeless as the day continues, and these repercussions can be felt across the entire ship. The Captains send out another MID message that appears as a jumble of unusual letters and symbols. However, there is one word that can be read by everyone and (hopefully) understood: RATCHET. Figuring out this problem shouldn't take long if everyone can leap the language barriers and work together.


( ooc; All New Arrivals: you have the choice of coming through the Moira's Ingress OR Ceta's Ingress. For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )
imahologram: (fifty-six.)

[personal profile] imahologram 2016-03-02 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
[At the question, Leia glances up from where she's putting her uniforms away. Her brow lifts a little when she sees who it belongs to--a woman who looks more machine than anything--but she doesn't comment on that fact.]

That's right, it is. Are you assigned here, too?

[She's been expecting bunkmates since she saw that there were multiple beds in the room.]
devilofohara: (interested)

The Cafe

[personal profile] devilofohara 2016-03-02 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
Hello.

[A head and shoulders poke up out of the other side of the counter - a dark haired girl with brown eyes, carefully eyeing the equipment and signs that Allison has spent her time setting up.]

Are you in charge of making coffee here?
earthandpine: (thoughtful)

[personal profile] earthandpine 2016-03-02 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
"Of course I have. Not that I had any choice in the matter. Even if I hadn't, Bruce, I'm a medicine-maker, and I know my own body. I've been dealing with my limitations for three and a half years now." Which is why it's so galling that she nearly got herself killed through sheer stupidity today. She ought to have known better. She sounds irritated at the question, but Rosethorn is at least as annoyed with herself.

Between Rosethorn's lungs and Lark's asthma, she has plenty of practice treating a variety of breathing problems. The issue is that medicine just isn't enough to restore either of them to what they used to be able to do. Lark, at least, had her asthma well in-hand with Rosethorn's medicine available to her. She just isn't a professional acrobat anymore.

"Actually," Rosethorn says more softly when Bruce asks what she wants, all the frustration leeching back out of her, "I was wondering if there was a modification you could make to Calendula. It's the sort of thing I would want to take with me everywhere. The problem isn't just this planet. High altitudes, anywhere the air is thin, even just too much exertion in a place where I can normally breathe just fine..."
straightouttacarbonite: (010)

[personal profile] straightouttacarbonite 2016-03-02 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
Getting fantastically drunk would probably be kind of comforting right now, but Han hasn't been inclined to take up the locals (or, technically, the temporary locals) on their offer of work. Also, being impaired when stuck in a foreign galaxy is kind of a bad idea. But mostly, he's broke.

Still, he finds himself hanging around the little dive bar a couple of nights, because it's the kind of place he always hangs around. No one in this galaxy (except his fellow transplants) plays sabacc, which means he's on the prowl to see what they do play.

Besides, this kind of place is alway full of gossip, and gossip is always good to know.

"'Quaint,' meaning tiny?"
gainedlove: (* Salute)

[personal profile] gainedlove 2016-03-02 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
He looks pretty confused, but that's something Frisk is expecting. They keep that calm and patient smile in place, holding their hand up for him to shake.

"My name's Frisk! What's yours?" Introductions first, then they can tell him what's going on and get him to medbay.
braceforimpact: (Und der Cherub steht vor Gott)

Moria Ingress

[personal profile] braceforimpact 2016-03-02 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
'Disoriented' barely begins to describe Kaworu Nagisa's condition in the immediate aftermath of passing through the Ingress. It isn't just a physical displacement, although that is certainly a factor--it's something almost visceral, like a vertigo of the soul, and the visual correlation between that and his immediate surroundings--

He stares blankly at the small... person in front of him, red eyes fixing on Frisk in a kind of eerie incomprehension.

"...."

After several long, long, long moments, he breaks the silence.

"...who are you?"
dragonspride: (My vanity loves someone else)

Moira/Aft!

[personal profile] dragonspride 2016-03-02 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
(...Okay to assume after dark? Since he'd...be a statue if the sun's out, which is great for people who like pranks via graffiti, but not great for conversation.)

Kain's claws clicking on the deck make him easy to hear coming; even if he's pretty sure he probably can't damage the ship, he's still keeping a light touch running a hand on the railing, old habits and reflexes sticking.

His attention's out over the cloud sea, distracted; he'd rather be outside and airborne, but the occasional curl of smoke on his breath is plenty to tell why that's not an option right now.

He also stops short of bumping into her, almost not having noticed her, which means an awkward half-step back. "...Sorry about that. I've been distracted."
tsunclonus: (Prayer)

4 HAHAHA come get terrified sideswipe

[personal profile] tsunclonus 2016-03-02 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
Mero Deck, #018-19

[Cyclonus had never considered the rooms on the Lost Light to be large, but this? This is far smaller.

With a long, slow sigh of air from his vents, he settles stiffly onto the floor in a kneeling position, his sword set across his laps. It's times like these that one feels the need to pray a little. It helps keep him focused, and calm.

He'll be quick to get back on his feet and brandish his sword should anyone happen to open the door.]
gainedlove: (* Check)

[personal profile] gainedlove 2016-03-02 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
"My name is Frisk." They slow to a stop a little ways away from Kaworu, looking a little worried at that incredibly blank look on his face. That's...surprise, they expect, but this is something a little different. "What's yours?"
beautifulspaceraptor: (what in the seven hells)

Harvest

[personal profile] beautifulspaceraptor 2016-03-02 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
There's someone kneeling next to Tex before she could even finish cursing. They definitely weren't a local worker between the red and black armor and the oddly avian features of their helmet.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," the stranger rumbles, moving to slide Tex's arm around his shoulder. "Do you need medical attention? Is there any clinic in the immediate area?"
saveyourserpent: (distance)

[personal profile] saveyourserpent 2016-03-02 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
Liquid looks at their face, then at their hand, then at their face again. Oooookay. Okay. Yeah. This is normal. Nothing makes sense and there's this kid here.

"Liquid. Liquid Snake." He's too disoriented to even consider coming up with an alias for his alias, but it doesn't really matter. If it's an afterlife, they'll probably know anyway. If it's a hallucination, they'll also know. "Where's my boots?" Of all the goddamn things to say, that's the first thing he blurts out.
devilofohara: (GASP)

The Museum

[personal profile] devilofohara 2016-03-02 02:38 am (UTC)(link)
I don't think it can drink anything.

[The voice comes from beside him, completely deadpan. When Nihlus turns, he'll notice a small human girl also staring at the jar of whale guts. She's seen enough aliens on this planet these past few days (and enough strange things in her lifetime) that she doesn't seem to react to his Turian visage at all.

The girl beside him is... Well, next to his fancy specter armor, she isn't exactly very impressive. She's small and thin as a rail, and in a wrinkled dress isn't doing much to protect her for the elements. She seems pretty into the whole museum thing, though. She looks at the exhibit with wide eyes, a keen interest in learning obvious upon her face.
]

Can you move over please? I want to read the plaque.
gainedlove: (* Pet)

[personal profile] gainedlove 2016-03-02 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
"That's cool name! It's nice to meet you, Mr. Liquid." Sadly, this is neither of those things. ...probably. "Um, I think they're still stuck in the Ingru--Ingress right now. That happened with my knife and noodles. But you'll get new ones with your uniform."

Frisk tugs on his hand, trying to get the man moving towards the door. "People fall through sometimes on accident, an' the captains are trying to get us all home! But for now we gotta help out so the ship runs okay."
straightouttacarbonite: (013)

[personal profile] straightouttacarbonite 2016-03-02 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
[Under the circumstances, saying she'd rather be on the Falcon is saying a lot. Their long, largely uncomfortable trip to Bespin is still clear in his memory. (Not that it was so bad, really. Not that bad at all.) This place has slightly more warmth than a star destroyer, probably. Slightly.

When she glances back he's grinning like the rogue he is. What, you can't help that kind of temptation.]


Someone had to.

[And it definitely should be him.]
saveyourserpent: (Default)

[personal profile] saveyourserpent 2016-03-02 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Ingress?" That's like, what, the opposite of an egress? He'd be better at processing this stuff if he had any idea what had just happened. Right now, he's working a little slowly, stuffed back in his body the way he's been. "Uniform?" Great, now he's resorted to parroting things he's been told. What is he, his brother?

He's about to start moving, realizes how stupid that is when he still doesn't know anything about what's going on, and stays where he is. "Alright, alright, slow down a bit. Take it from the top."
redshitlord: (no more for sure)

[personal profile] redshitlord 2016-03-02 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
[At least, for his part, Sideswipe doesn't feel bothered by talking to a human. He can't really crouch down that far, for fear of smacking into some other small organic, but he'll do as much as possible, to talk to her better.]

[He's used to that much.]


You sure about that? I mean, wouldn't want to accidentally put a foot through the floor or something.

[The handshake gets a blink -- wait, he's seen those in movies. And then he's enthusiastically shoving his own hand forward, regardless of the fact it's a lot larger than hers.]

Hey! Sideswipe, here. Heard of me?

[No, no one has, child, stop.]
braceforimpact: (Wem der große Wurf gelungen)

Frisk's name is terrible in Japanese god just imagine him saying it

[personal profile] braceforimpact 2016-03-02 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
There's another long pause as Kaworu absorbs this. He's absorbing other things right now, too, like 'where he is,' which is less a visual task and more a spatial one. He doesn't look much like he's absorbing anything, though.

"...Kaworu. Kaworu Nagisa." He blinks once, catlike. "I... don't understand."
redshitlord: everything from here on @ metahumanarcher (so now you're headed to your car)

[screaming intensifies]

[personal profile] redshitlord 2016-03-02 02:56 am (UTC)(link)
[Wow, they get actual rooms? All to themselves? That's one huge step up from the scrap yard. As... comfortable as it had gotten, lately. Then again, the scrap yard had Grim. Bee. The humans. It was familiar by now.]

[Okay, the one thing this place had going for it though? No Strongarm pushing patrols and protocol down his throat.]

[Needless to say, there's a renewed spring in his step as he heads in to check out the new room. Sure, the door opens to show off a huge purple bot -- and for a second he has to make sure he didn't wander in on Drift repainting himself to be something less... obnoxiously pumpkin, because the pose is almost the same.]

[But then--]


Uh. Hi?
straightouttacarbonite: (011)

[personal profile] straightouttacarbonite 2016-03-02 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
"It doesn't make sense, but... y'know, we're kind of here."

Han shrugs, waving vaguely at the unfamiliar landscape. Unfamiliar to him, too, even if he's been on a hundred planets in his day.

"They want us to work for them, I guess. That's what they say."
yer_pretty_good: images from tumblr (easy smile)

Aft

[personal profile] yer_pretty_good 2016-03-02 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
Ocelot heard that new people had come aboard, so naturally he had to see some of their faces. There were quite a few wandering around. He didn't really expect to see someone he knew, but since Miller and David were here already, there was always a chance that might be some from their world or maybe even Ocelot's own time.

When he sees the broad back of the man standing at the window and looking into space, the cowboy smiles. It's just the person he wanted to see. It doesn't take him long to realize it's Venom, too. The shrapnel is kind of a giveaway. He approaches and stops some feet behind the Boss, but his reflection is in the glass next to Snake's.

"Welcome aboard, Boss."
straightouttacarbonite: (001)

[personal profile] straightouttacarbonite 2016-03-02 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
[Uuuuuuuuhhhhh what?!

Don't get him wrong. Han is used to all manner of non-human and non-humanoid aliens who can do all sorts of things, but that? That's a new one. It makes him jump which makes him smack his head on the overhang of the egg bed.

Dumbstruck, he can't figure anything else to do but shake that... hand.]


Yeah...

[personal profile] ex_forcechoke292 2016-03-02 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
[CETA'S INGRESS; ARRIVAL]
[The Force, Anakin thinks upon hearing any of this, is playing an extremely cruel joke. The idea that his life moves from one ridiculous scenario to the next with little fanfare, and only the occasional horrific warning, has been long accepted. It's the life he's chosen, passed from one sort of master to the next, freedom a fleeting concept he'd never really stopped to consider until his choices began to matter, and a new set of rules replaced the old.

It's less how ridiculous this is, so completely, terrifyingly absurd that he do naught but laugh, nor even the sudden loss that comes with it (he is a Skywalker, and that, it seems, will never be associated with anything but), but the rules that are implied in the whole explanation. He's moved from having no choice in the matter, growing up understanding that the world is not and will not ever be equal, to restrictions we walked into willingly (mostly; he tries), to a situation that now sits dubiously in-between. A contract signed "willingly" with little choice in the matter gives a new meaning to the word, and he's unsure of how to feel about it.]


I have a bad feeling about this.

[Because of course he does. It's muttered, not directed to anyone in particular, and the glower that comes with this mostly-nondescript bad mood tends to distract from the surroundings, of which he should always be mindful. It's Resting Bitch Face: the Anakin Skywalker edition. Apologies, if it's directed toward you.]


[THE MUSEUM;]
[When his mood settles on something closer to apathetic distaste which is nowhere near actually apathetic rather than spiking unease and a burning in his chest that he's not willing to admit is unstable anxiety, he finds himself wandering back toward the planet. There is, in this, a certain amount of slack, a modicum of choice (at least in appearance), and he might not have the opportunity again. He still has that explorer's heart under it all, bless it.

Anakin winds up in the museum, completely undisturbed by the somewhat gruesome anatomic depictions. (You see the inside of a bantha, you've seen everything.) He is predictably drawn toward the explanations of the space whales giant creatures' ability to "fly." Is that a little too interested? Your call.]
beautifulspaceraptor: (what in the seven hells)

[personal profile] beautifulspaceraptor 2016-03-02 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
[Nihlus nearly chokes on his own tongue when he turns around. He'd just cursed in front of a small kid! There's a moment of panicked staring before he processes the question and then sliiiides to the side.]

Sure! Sure. Go ahead.

[Here's to quietly praying that he hadn't just introduced a fancy new curse word to the child's vocabulary.]

I'd, uh, take some of the description on these things with a grain of salt. Pretty sure they're just trying to sell stuff.
Edited (what is coding) 2016-03-02 03:06 (UTC)
beautifulspaceraptor: (heh!)

[personal profile] beautifulspaceraptor 2016-03-02 03:08 am (UTC)(link)
Well that's one way to beat the crowd.

[There's a stripy alien face staring curiously up at Andrew. He's been here for a while before the kid had arrived, but he'd been caught up with fiddling with his MID.]

You doing alright up there?
yer_pretty_good: (lock and load)

a!

[personal profile] yer_pretty_good 2016-03-02 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
[When Big Boss pokes about in the gardens, he might see someone that will entice him to stay a little longer than he planned. A familiar looking cowboy is there, though he doesn't notice the Boss at first. He's standing to one side by a tree, keeping to himself.

Ocelot scuffs the ground with his foot, widening his stance, and then performs a quick draw with the revolver on his belt. He then twirls it back until it slides smoothly into place. Since he doesn't have his own room on the ship, he's found a secluded spot here in the gardens to keep his skills sharp. There are days when even the cat is a little off on his aim, not that he tells anyone that, so it's always best to practice consistently and whenever he can.]