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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)! )
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-03-01 02:40 pm
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"Please do." She steps forward, naturally reaching out to touch his shoulder mostly out of habit. "Yes, you may. You always have permission to."
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Throw in the reappearance of someone from his past he thought for sure was dead, well. Sans could use a nap.
"Cool." He steps closer to the boats, frowning. Large, sure, but there's something unappealing about a long wobbly boat ride with other panicked strangers. "So, uh, Tori. What's your opinion on these fine vessels? I was thinkin' they look like they could use a visit to the dock-tor."
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The boss monster audibly laughs at that, brightening visibly at the pun. "I don't know a-boat you, but it does seem to have a sickly pallor."
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Sans shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, feeling warmer and less awkward already. Why didn't he see it before? Bad jokes: the cure to all ails and awkwardness.
"Oar... we could take a shortcut. Your call, T."
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The boss monster spares the boat another glance, before the decision comes easily enough. "A shortcut certainly sounds safer, if not more exciting."
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"I'm gonna have to ask you to trust me. Should be pretty easy, I'm told most people can see right through me."
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She does laugh at his comment, smiling warmly back at the skeleton monster. "Even with- whatever this oddity is that's caused you to lose some time or memory, I want you to know you have my trust, Sans." A simple declaration carries the weight of genuine trust and the fact Toriel will get some explanation out of Sans later regarding him not knowing her name later.
She hasn't forgotten just yet.
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A strange mix of nice and vulnerable, all at the same time.
"Cool. Close your eyes for me, T?"
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Toriel isn't sure what is going on or how they've lost time but she knows she will try to make up for it. The boss monster suspects they'll have the time to adjust given their new odd lot in life in this spaceship.
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In a matter of moments, the rocky surface below their feet changes to the smooth, cold floors of the Moira.
"Consider us a pair of super tiny scissors 'cuz we just... well, y'know."
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"Short cut is certainly the word for it. Goodness." She offers his shoulder an appreciative gentle squeeze. Releasing her grasp on Sans, realizing she might be a bit too handsy with the poor man. She had gotten used to being friendly with him, it just happened automatically. "Thank you for the quick trip."
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One day, maybe she could settle somewhere, maybe.
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We're not the only monsters, either. Papyrus' is here, and this little kid -- a boss monster, like you. Small spaceship, huh?"
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Her eyebrows knit together uncertainly at the mention of a child boss monster. Maybe another family of boss monsters had survived the war? Who knew. She files away the information for later.
"Ah, I'm glad. I must admit, it's a comfort to know we're not alone here with so many humans. Papyrus in particular is a joy to have around." There is clear fondness in her voice when she talks about the other skeleton. "You'll have to tell me how he's been. How both of you have been settling in later."
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With all the new sensations of seeing her face to face, it's oddly... comforting, in a way, knowing that even with disparate memories between them there was still a shared history at its route.
"Heh, I'd love that. He's... man, you should see him. They got him on morale duty, can you believe that? Talk about being suited for the job. Everyone loves him."
And if they don't, well, Sans has made note of that too.
"I'm uh... I'd say I'm psyched for you to meet him, but I guess you probably already have."
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"I did, well- here and at home. He thought I was Asgore." The name leaves a sour taste in her mouth, though she tries to hide it, poorly. Without Frisk present, she doesn't hide quite the contempt that wants to rise when thinking about the other boss monster. "We talked a little bit. I just assumed he was still getting myself and the king confused. We look similar enough I suppose."
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Sans waves over his shoulder, raising a brow bone. "Kid should be this way. Probably."
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"Thank you for leading the way." Her hand drifts back to his shoulder, the touch is a soft thankful one.
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"Heh, well, I'm more of a follower but I'm glad Papyrus' acting lessons are paying off."
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"I must ask though, how long have you boys been here? If I'm allowed to pry of course. You both seem very settled."
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"I'm glad.. It is a little strange being surrounded by so many humans in such close quarters." She rolls her shoulders in thought, with Sans it's easy to talk. She has grown so used to being candid with the skeleton it slides in naturally. "We've made progress at home, but humans still let us have our own areas and can be a little wary."
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"What's it like? Er, if ya don't mind me asking."
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The hard part is always where to start. "Human civilization is so... large now. Grand buildings that tower so high, everyone seems to have cars and relatively free ways to travel from place to place in 'buses'. You can barely see the sky at night with how much light there is all the time." It is far different than she remembered, cloistered towns surrounded by grass and farmland. "Most of us are living in a few apartment complexes on the edge of the city near the mountain. I was pushing for a bit more so we weren't so condensed back near the mountain, much less still living in it or on it."
The thought earns a roll of her eyes from the boss monster and slight irritated snort. "Some are resistant to it. I was planning on having a very serious discussion with the city officials in person, they keep avoiding my calls."
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