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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
no subject
"Oh? I wonder how far you'll get, asking people who are on the same ship as you."
That was a terrible joke. But considering the state of his own world (his state in his own world), maybe such a cynical point of view was forgiveable. Not that he cares to excuse himself; Prometheus knows he's beyond that point now. He tilts his head to one side, as if considering what she's said. Then-
"Hm. Not bad, but you're not really the person I'm looking for. I mean..." He gestures to her frame. "We're not the same at all, are we?"
There's a quiet chuckle, actual amusement.
"Well, you could probably pass for one if you wanted to. Might want to be careful, you never know when armour like that might unsettle the natives."
no subject
"So, that was coming from you," she says, impressed. "You're looking for someone? Um... what do you mean, the same? I doubt you're going to find them out here."
She ignores his other comments for now. Oh, her appearance might be unsettling? Thanks. She had no idea.
no subject
"..." he taps his headphones and winds up brushing some of his bangs out of the way in the process; those things are directly attached to his head.
"You seem like a clever girl, I really don't need to spell it out for you, do I?" A pause. "And colour me surprised. Normally I'd get a spiel about how you shouldn't abandon friends no matter how slim a chance there is to find them. Then I get here and everyone's all 'They're not here'... What's a guy to do?"
Prometheus shrugs and shakes his head, looking a little exasperated. Maybe too much to be taken seriously. His outward appearance gives no indication of his agitation at the thought of being separated from Pandora for any period of time.
no subject
"Looks like you're less of a curmudgeon than you seem," she says - or at least that's the current state of her evolving impression of this person. Fiora's not the only one who wasn't happy with what she'd been told after all. But she won't push him out of spite. If he's searching for someone important, she can sympathize.
"Well, I hope you find her. If it'd help, I could send out the same signal. Broader range could make the difference."
no subject
But it was one of the more benign things he's been called. Almost polite. It makes Prometheus wonder a bit about what life this girl must have lead if that was the sort of insult she threw at him. After all, that armour shares some similarities with the ones from his world (though it's a little more streamlined
one could say it was a different art style all together).He sighs and shakes his head. Prometheus raises a hand and makes a vague circular gesture.
"I've been walking around a while. This was the last sweep..." He looks a little irritated by it, honestly. "So while I lament my continued string of bad luck, you looked like you had a few questions. Why not kill some time? I could use a distraction."
Prometheus had check the MID's database and couldn't find her name... He had been hoping that it was because maybe one of them had gotten through with Model W intact (but it should have been him to suffer, not her) or, perhaps, they had missed her coming through and she was just traversing the temporaries looking for him on her own. Looks like that wasn't the case though. How unsettling.
no subject
"Well, you told me just a minute ago that I should have just listened to the first explanation," she says curtly, a humorless smile on her face, "so unless you'd like to give a different answer to the question I've already asked, I'll be on my way."
Their bodies might be similar, but despite her curiosity, that's not reason enough for Fiora to want to talk to him. Especially when she's intent on finding a way to go home in the next hour.
no subject
"Not the question I was thinking of, but it looks like we'll be stuck on that ship for a while. I'm sure another opportunity will pop up." Her smile is humourless, but he seems to be having a grand old time (no he's not). Prometheus has a terrible coping mechanism, and part of it involves making other people irritated/pissed off/miserable. So Fiora's frustration doesn't bother him at all.
Still, it seems a shame to let her stumble around on her own like this.
"They say that Ingress is unpredictable. But who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky and convince it to let you go back. Things like these though..." he thinks back to Model W - it's power and all-consuming madness - and chuckles like it's some sort of inside joke. "Not the type to listen to the wishes of the things they have control over."
no subject
"Well, if there's a way, that means I can find it." She nods, mostly to herself, and looks away, looking for others she could go bother with questions. This guy, he's still a big question mark... but she just doesn't want to waste any more time at the moment talking to him.
"Thanks for the info." She glances back at him before turning away. "Good day."