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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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"They have something the hunters want, and they can do things the hunters can't." Sans looked at the hunting party alongside Frisk, eye lights dimming. "Fear and something to gain, that's all it takes for some people."
But enough of that.
"Can't be all bad, though. They seem to be having a whale of a time up there."
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"But it's not even for food," Frisk grumbles, tugging at the bottom of their sweater. The pun, however, earns a snort and giggle, and succeeds in distracting Frisk from the topic. "Ehehe! Yeah, they're all flying by beach-y keen!"
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"Kid, you're krillin' me."
Another nudge.
"Hey, what do you call a pod of musical whales?"
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"I dunno!" They do, actually, but the delivery is always what makes Sans grin the most. "What do you call them?"
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"An orcastra." Wink "I've got a ton of 'em, kid, don't even get me started."
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"Aw, but your jokes are the--" Frisk pauses for a moment, then corrects themself. "Yours and Mom's jokes are the best!"
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"Heh, I dunno, kiddo. Your mom's got me beat in most areas. Jokes are just the tip of that iceberg."
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"Your mom is pretty great, though."
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"Yeah, Mom is the best!" Their expression turns sly, and they nudge Sans's arm again. "So when're you gonna smooch?"
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2/2
"Your mom and I are just buddies."
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"Nooooo, you like each other! I can tell!"
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"Sans an' Toriel, sittin' in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
And exactly as mature about it as their age would suggest, of course.
"You should do it! It'd make her real happy!"
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"Kid, you have got some wild ideas. I think I liked it better when you burst into tears at the sight of me."
Followed up by a wink, just to send home that he's joking. Hopefully it's not too soon to tease about that. Sans had a bad habit of underestimating the too soon limitations.
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"You're bluuuuuushing! You do like her! It's okay if you're shy, Alphys and Undyne were, too." Frisk nods and crosses their arms. They totally have this match-making business in hand, they are a master at it.
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And Alphys, well... he worries about her. More than he cares to admit.
"What do you think they're up to, these days?"
There. Subject changed.
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Of course, a lot has surely happened in the month or so that Frisk has been gone, but...maybe it hasn't been that long, in their timeline. Toriel hadn't noticed Frisk's disappearance before coming through the Ingress, though whether that's just because Frisk will need to use LOAD once they're back is another question entirely.
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Hopefully this ship won't see fit to ruin that for them. It's bad enough Frisk and now Toriel were zapped out of that comfortable life. Well, as comfortable as it could be until the next reset hit.
"Sounds kinda idyllic, when you talk about it."
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Frisk nods and smiles, a little sadly. "Mmm...I like when we can all stay up there a long time. ...I've been doing better keeping things, I think. We got a whole month this time!"
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Of course, then Frisk begins talking about the resets once again, and Sans' hand slowly retreats back into his pocket.
"Heh... whole month, huh? Wow."
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They'd never gotten any real admission from the skeleton of what he felt about Frisk's place in this whole mess, but they have a few guesses they're sure aren't far off the mark. Sans had made it abundantly clear just how he felt about people with a power like Frisk and Chara's. It hurts, but...it's what they deserve, honestly. The only reason Frisk clings so tightly to the timeline is to keep another Flowey from happening.
And look how well that had gone.
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"You're trying your best. I know that, kiddo."
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Suddenly Frisk shakes their head and sucks in a sharp breath, looking as if they're trying to suck all that bad mood right back into them. No sad stuff this time! They're gonna have a GOOD TIME with Sans!
"Come on, let's go outside and watch the real whales!" For lack of a hand to grab onto, Frisk takes hold of Sans's sleeve to tug him along back towards the entrance of the museum.
(no subject)