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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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The worst thing that happened there was just unnecessary dismemberment and/or disembowelment. Something about a haunted hide-and-seek game? Hah!
[... Well, that was the most cheerful delivery so far]
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Weird.]
I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure dismemberment isn't supposed to be part of the typical high school adventure.
[Deacon's instincts are telling him that there's something off about this kid. He's way too happy talking about maiming.]
What's your name, kid?
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... [he grins]
You first, old man.
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The name's Dez. [Deacon says.] And before this talk goes further, I think I need to ask a really important question. Was the cafeteria turned into a butcher shop before or after you arrived. 'Cause your words there? Yeah, could go either way.
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[oh thank Asimov, someone who actually picked up on things. Prometheus laughs at the question because it could have gone both ways, couldn't it? Back home, the answer would have been a resounding yes but since it was that damned school;]
Does it? Well, guess I ought to be a bit more careful! But no, that was there before I arrived. Something about a student being killed there the previous month. I'd show you the parlour trick with the phones they gave us, but it seems like the Ingress took a liking to it. [he holds up his hands; empty. Model W was a loss(?) but the cellphone? The only thing he would have wanted to keep on it were Pandora's texts (and he'd have preferred his sister over texts anyway)]
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The previous month? Your school should have fired the janitor.
Your turn to give me a name.
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[a laugh] I don't think it's just the janitor's fault. Pretty sure it's - how to say? - school motto? No, theme would work better.
The name's Prometheus.
[no lies, his creator just had a terrible sense of humour]
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[Getting off the topic of his life now...]
Wasn't Prometheus the guy who had his insides ripped open and eaten? And then you got sent to the High School of Horrors? Hate to break it to you, but I think that your parents might not have loved you.
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[he tilts his head to one side, arms crossed in front of him. The 'headphones' he's wearing seem to actually be attached to his head, rather than just an accessory]
Ha!
[he smiles as he drops his arms, because he noticed the departure from the previous topic but that's fine. This man alone was more interesting to converse with that many of his fellow students... Was it the age difference?]
Just his liver, by an eagle and for all eternity. And I'm pretty sure the old man didn't care about anyone but himself anyway. Honestly, I'm surprised I'm still standing here. I wonder if spite alone can keep someone alive across worlds... [laugh (there's a hint of madness in the edge of that laugh, because if the only reason he was still functional was because of one single, all encompassing emotion well... That just seemed par for his life, didn't it?)]
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I hear spite's a good motivator. Me, I try to avoid it.
You're not human, am I right? [He's seen and met enough people since coming through the Ingress to think to ask that question.]
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Now what makes you ask that? [he grins before turning to lean against a wall. He is missing Model W... No point in picking fights and making enemies. But it wasn't as if he was the sole android here (and even if he was, there wasn't really any point in lying about that was there?)] How rude. I thought we were starting to become friends.
[but hell if he's going to make it easy]
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Hey, I don't judge. I'm not human either. [Lies.]
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Really now? Somehow, I have my doubts about that. [not really] But if you say you're not human then what would that make me? Hmm...
How about a couple of theories from you, Roomie?
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I'd say...an alien or an android, or oo, an alien android.
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But sure. Why not? The term's 'Reploid' where I'm from... But you don't sound that surprised at all. Work related?
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I don't know anything about aliens, but androids... I know about them because...I am one. We call ourselves synths. I'm a Gen 3, completely indistinguishable from a human. [Back to lying again.]
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.............
[it's a measuring look, like someone looking straight through you... And all things considered? Prometheus might have been. Oh how he missed his scanners back at Inugami; having them again opened up so many opportunities, crippled as they were in his original body]
You want to try that again? I might believe you this time.
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It's the truth! I swear. I was created by an organization called the Institute, one of hundreds of synths built to be their army, their slaves. But I escaped, passed myself off as human.
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[but Prometheus knows he's outmatched aboard this ship. He's fully aware of how weak he is, even back in his original body and not trapped in that human one of Inugami. The truth was, without Pandora, he's a little more off balance than he would admit (damn that human body, he had thought Albert had crushed all the emotions he had left save for the useful ones, the ones Model W needed)]
Not a very creative name, is it? 'Institute'. Not sure I believe that part about you being synthetic, but I can certainly see the rest. Life of an android never really changes does it?
[he looks thoughtful for a second before smiling again (there's an edge in it since-)]
Why so tense? Relax! It's not like I'm at all equipped for combat here. [he's literally cosplaying as a Japanese High School student] Right now, I'm just your average civilian.
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[But Prometheus' earlier comment..."life of an android..."]
Are you saying you were a slave?
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[except he doesn't sound it at all]
Hmm...?
[when your creator's ultimate goal in mind for you was to use you and your sister as plot macguffin feed by making your entire life miserable, Prometheus thinks just being a slave bot would have been easier. The Psuedoroids seemed happier with their jobs than he or Pandora ever were, at least]
Like I said, I'm just your average citizen. [lied to and used by that damned old man] You know how people are though... Start acting too much like them and they get all up in arms, offended, like it's our fault we're behaving exactly like how they programmed us to. Like they're supposed to be paragons of good decision making. Ha! What a joke.
2/2
But why the sudden interest? What difference would it make?
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But if you were, I might, you know...sympathize. I've seen it fuck up a whole lot of people. [And by people he means synths.]
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[before he just starts laughing. Almost doubled over, Prometheus can't help the slightly crazy lilt in his laughter. This was too much! Unbelievable]
Hyaaahahaha!! Are you kidding me? Heh... No, this has to be a joke. 'Sympathy'?
[he stands up suddenly and steps forward, just skirting the edge of the other man's personal space. That piercing look is on his face again though now it's accompanied by a slasher smile]
So I'm just supposed to take your word at face value? After this wonderfully candid conversation of ours?
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Okay, yeah, I lied. It's a thing I do every once in a while. [All the damn time.]
But I'm not lying when I say I don't like slavery. And seriously, not liking slavery shouldn't be some weird stance that needs explaining. [Except when it comes to machines, it often is.]
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