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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
As me and my unit were leaving the area a mist fell. The scout ahead said he saw "Skulls in the mist". Then he went quiet. Next thing we knew parts of him were falling around us. One by one, everyone went quiet on the comms. Up until it was just me, trying to find whatever did it. Then everything went black.
I woke up in the hands of the Russians, minus two limbs. I don't think I was intended to survive. I just think they found me before I was dead.
I didn't see them until later. These men. Glowing blue eyes and first staggering, then jerking and writhing, they could move like... Well, they could take rockets and jump three stories into the air, practically teleporting. That should explain them. [He rubs his hand over his forehead.] Monsters in the Mist.
no subject
The fuck?
[Yeah, that is not what he was picturing when he heard of the skulls. He also didn't know that was what happened to Kaz, why he had the prosthetic limbs that he did. He doesn't have as much experience with fighting and wars and all of that, but he does know what it's like to lose a limb. It helps him understand what that might be like, after.]
It explains them, yeah, I guess. Ain't heard of nothin' like that before, but I'm glad you made it out of that, Kaz. Glad you're here botherin' us now.
[He knows it's not that simple, being here, but he means it.]
no subject
Because I spent so long in a camp, basically with only antibiotics as treatment, the nerves didn't heal properly. That's why my phantom pains are so intense.
[But he hates looking at himself and seeing parts missing. Prosthetics or not, it doesn't fix it. Letting someone else see them has been nearly impossible. He avoids it as much as he can.]
no subject
[Eggsy tips back, looks Kaz up and down a few times, brows raised and nodding.]
If you two's weren't doin' whatever it is that you're doin', I'd be all over this. Like me a miserable old fuck, now don't I.
[He's trying, horribly, to distract Kaz from the stuff that's bothering him, from the pain that he's feeling, physically and emotionally, but he's actually quite serious. Kaz was handsome, missing limbs, scars and all.]
no subject
[But then he admits.]
We're not doing anything. Not other than talking. He's good at talking though. I like listening to him.
[He's drunk enough to admit that to poor Eggsy, whose probably not interested.]
no subject
You like him? I'm not tryin' to pry, I just don't want ya both to miss out if one or both of ya is bein' shy about it.
[Eggsy raises a brow.]
Ya should knock on his door, stroll up to him and just kiss him.
no subject
I don't know. I guess I have to be more comfortable with someone than I used to be. [But he has to admit, Harry had a damn good line for him when Miller had been hesitant to speak his.] Not that Harry is particularly uncomfortable but I need... to stop talking, because I am very drunk.
[He pats Eggsy on the shoulder.] You want to know something? You're a good son to him. [But in the process of patting, he's knocked his crutch to the floor.]
no subject
[Eggsy knew they'd figure it out. He wasn't going to push anymore, because Harry hadn't liked that.]
Than- [Well, shit.] I'll get it.
[He wondered if Kaz knew anything about his own dad, about Harry's role in it, and how nice it felt to have someone around that might want to treat him like a son. He scoops up the crutch, handing it back up to Kaz.]
Think it's time to go now?
no subject
I'll call Harry. I need to tell him what's happening. So he knows.
[And this time he holds onto the crutch, but Eggsy is the unfortunate recipient of a one-armed hug. As thanks for helping him.]
no subject
Yeah, you call Harry and I'll make sure ya get to him or your room.
[Whichever way he was most comfortable with, obviously. Eggsy grins at the hug, turning into it to hug him back. He lingers long enough to show Kaz that it means something to him, but not long enough for it to get weird.]