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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
"I think I'd remember something like this!" Tailgate squeaks out eventually. He places his little hands on Cyclonus' arms and gazes up at him tearfully. "What happened to you? And where's your horn?" He says that last bit a little shyly. That horn is important to both of them, and he doesn't like that it's not there. Some irrational part of him wondered if Cyclonus took it off on purpose. Getaway did say...
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He frowns, one hand reaching reflexively to the empty spot on his head. Though slight, the missing weight is glaring to him, heavy with the emotional weight of having lost something important.
"It was gone when I... arrived."
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Time shenanigans? Probably.
"I'll make you another!" He says brightly. "At least the ship didn't give you back those scratches you had a while ago too. Your face looks better when it's not beaten up."
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Hm. "How long have you been here?"
He inclines his head slightly, pleased that Tailgate has calmed down. "If you make it, I will wear it."
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"Megatron and Ultra Magnus have been here that long too, and Riptide arrived last month." Which brought him to another very important question. "So, um, where are you staying? I bet you have your own room right?" And hopefully no roommate? Because Tailgate was well and truly prepared to fist-fight them to room with Cyclonus again.
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This does mean that he has Important Things to tell Tailgate about, though. He'll... give it a moment. It's good to see Tailgate awake, happy, and talking to him. He'd been spending so much time with Getaway before the incident.
"I am in room #018-19 on Mero Deck." He has no idea yet that he has a roommate.
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"I'm currently rooming with Riptide by the way. I don't have a bed anymore because we blew it up a couple weeks ago. Ultra Magnus and Megatron weren't very happy about that. Don't ask how we blew it up though, it's kind of embarrassing."
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He has no objections to having Tailgate as a roommate again, though it would have been courteous to ask him first. It certainly sounds preferable to leaving him with Riptide, however, if housing them together leads to explosions. He'd be more concerned about that if Tailgate wasn't clearly okay now.
"Tailgate," he says firmly at the first adequate pause in conversation. "I would prefer if you didn't blow yourself up."
You're not actually a bomb tech, remember?
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As their conversation wears on, Tailgate takes every opportunity to affectionately examine Cyclonus' face. It is unquestionably the same face as always, and he is very happy about that, as it is one of his favourite faces ever. Other people might see Cyclonus' face and think that he is scary or mean, but Tailgate has never once considered Cyclonus to be either of those things. He imagines himself reaching over and touching the pale facial plating, but quickly decides not to. It might be a little too... much.
"..."
He pauses a moment. There's something important he forgot to say.
"I missed you. Having you here makes me feel a little bit more at home."
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"I have missed your company, too, little one."
Not because his Tailgate had been missing. But he hadn't had time for Cyclonus. He feels foolish in hindsight. Clearly Getaway had been separating them. But he'd allowed emotion to override instinct. To let himself assume his own jealousy rather than malice.
His optics dim. "There's something I must tell you, Tailgate."
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"Cyclonus?"
Curious. Tailgate doesn't like the tone of Cyclonus' voice. Maybe he doesn't want to hear whatever is about to be said? No, he owes Cyclonus this much.
"What is it?"
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"Either you don't remember or it hasn't happened to you yet-" Timey-wimey shenanigans aren't a huge surprise for Lost Lighters. "-But Getaway is setting you up."
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Whatever Tailgate is expecting, it isn't that. Such a thing is inconceivable to him. Getaway is a friend! One of his best friends, in fact! He is cool, charming, and just plain likeable. Better yet, he's always saying nice things about Tailgate, and Tailgate can't get enough of that.
But even has he denies it in his head, faint memories come to him. How Getaway keeps pouring drinks for him even after he says he wants to stop. How the things he sometimes says causes a faint underlining sense of unease in his spark that he can't understand or explain. That's always been because Tailgate is new to relationships though, so he obviously just doesn't know how it works.
Getaway's warm and honeyed whispers win out, and Tailgate pushes those thoughts aside.
"Is this some kind of joke?" He demands, choosing to get angry rather than think about the accusation too closely. "If so, then you need to talk to Swerve on how to make better ones, because it's not funny! Getaway is a friend, he'd never "set me up" for anything!" He sounds almost betrayed, as if he can't believe that Cyclonus isn't happy for him that he's found such a good friend.
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This is painful for him on so many levels. He doesn't want to hurt Tailgate like this. And though he doesn't blame Tailgate for disbelief - after all, he and Getaway had grown very close, while Cyclonus had let him slip away - it still hurts.
"Shortly before my arrival here, Getaway convinced you to assault Megatron in his sleep, presumably to provoke him into harming you, leaving him open to punishment."
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But Tailgate refuses to listen.
"You're wrong." He says weakly, backing away until he's out of reach. "Getaway would never do that. You're just-" Jealous. But Tailgate knows better, so he cuts himself off. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
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"That's alright. We don't need to talk about it, you merely needed to know."
Forewarned is forearmed. Should Getaway try it with this Tailgate some day, he'll know. But even if Tailgate is tricked again, Cyclonus is determined to be there to watch his back once again.
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Tailgate can forgive it.
"I have to go to work soon Cyclonus... Maybe we can meet up again later? Oh! That reminds me! What job did you get?"
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"I am to be an 'Evacuation Specialist'."
Looking after the safety of a bunch of fragile organics. What fun.
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"Be nice to the organics, okay? A lot of them are really nice! Sure, some of them are obnoxious, but that's how it is. If you scare them you might end up taking a few years off their very short lives, and no one wants that."
A plan is forming and Tailgate looks slyly up at his friend.
"I have to go now, so see you later!"
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He nods a silent goodbye to Tailgate, watching him thoughtfully as he leaves. It seems to him that perhaps his friend is up to something. Hopefully this time it doesn't involve blowing things up.