thisavrou_log | march event log

Who: Everyone
When: March 17th and on
Where: The Moira and Ceta; various locations
What: Communication, mercenaries, and scraplets
Warnings: Please label accordingly!

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communicate & protect
"The best way to protect something is to set it free."

Since the Moira has arrived on Ceta, things have been (mostly) quiet considering their usual stay on planets before it. The only cruelty about this one is the fact they hunt for both sport and gain, and the creatures of Ceta do not have a voice—or intelligence to defend themselves. However, as the crew of the ship will come to learn, this is an elaborate lie. With the previous problem of the MID malfunctioning, and causing a bit of a miscommunication fiasco, finally solved, it is apparent that whatever had been wrong with this technology had slowly begun to affect the crew prior to exploring Ceta. Only in subtle, unnoticed ways.

With everything beginning to run a little more smoothly, a shift in the air overtakes both the Moira and Ceta in the days following.

☄ A LESSON IN MID COMMUNICATION ( 03.17 - 03.22 )
As the translator technology has recently been fixed, the crew will notice that their MID devices now come with an extra feature: a brief explanation of the extra capabilities of the translation technology. Each MID records all language that is spoken near it, stores information on phonetics and linguistics in order to keep each language as current as possible. In the event that an unknown language is encountered, all known languages are applied until the meanings of each sound or word are decoded. In some instances, it’s a long process, and in others, it spans the time of a few weeks.

There is a small addendum that states that no conversations are recorded and stored in their entirety in order to protect privacy.

Crew may ask themselves why this is there, but all they have to do is get close enough to one of the flying, whale-like creatures to find out. Communication is still not quite perfect, and this is where the translator technology needs the crew’s help. The more two beings interact using speech, the further the database will expand. Attempting communication might be futile at first, but eventually, the low peaceful songs filling the misty air of Ceta are broken with words: a cry for help When the creatures have come close to the temporaries before, it was not out of curiosity; it was an attempt to destroy them and save themselves. But remember, even if you want to help, these creatures are skittish around sudden light and it takes time for them to trust, time the Moira might not have.

☄ TRADE FOR RESOLUTION ( 03.22 - 03.25 )
It’s common knowledge that this universe runs on a system of trade for either goods or services. If you can provide either of those to another, then you can have anything you want. This includes protection. The closest neighboring planet, like so many others, has a variety of groups that can be hired out to perform a number of duties. In an effort to offer the crew peaceful resolution for something that they’ve learned is discomfiting to many Moirans, the hunting and killing of innocent creatures on Ceta, the captains suggest something a little different this time.

Contact and an initial payment has been made to a team of soldiers to travel to Ceta to meet with the crew. Essentially, if enough valuable resources are offered to this group, they will do whatever is necessary to rid Ceta of the hunters and declare that Ceta is a protected planet. This means that they will protect these giant creatures from future harm as long as a yearly sum is delivered to them. The captains agree to continue payment as long as the rest of the crew can gather enough for the first year.

☄ FEEDING FRENZY ( 03.25 - 03.31 )
With everything finally coming to a peaceful close, the Moira and the crew’s routine begin to return to normal. The process for leaving Ceta is spread ship-wide. However, as they leave Ceta’s atmosphere and enter space once more, some odd things appear to have flooded the ship. An infestation of scraplets have led to minor complications that soon start to escalate. Feeding exclusively on metal, they make a mangled mess of the ship's systems, causing them to glitch and stop working altogether as they chew their way through its internal workings. You may notice your door will no longer open or close, or maybe the temperature has gotten unusually warm. Is that a leak? How did that get there? Maybe you happen to be made of metal yourself, or have metallic prosthetics - "living" metal is actually preferred over the walls of the ship.

The infestation will start to threaten critical systems if left unchecked and will need to be taken care of as quickly as possible. It is the crew’s responsibility to band together and figure out a way to stop these scraplets from devouring the entirety of the ship and leaving them stranded or worse.

( OOC: Please label any material with content warnings. For questions, go here! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Andrew doesn't have any new weapon or anything to test out but he is definitely taking advantage of the opportunity to release some pent up stress with all the, as he sees them, new targets. He also spots the scraplets pouring out of the newly made hole, though he doesn't notice someone else in the area raising a weapon as he raises his arm.

He doesn't try to go for them all, but about ten or so of them end up being suspended in mid air before being crushed by some kind of force. He's not grinning or anything but he's definitely enjoying this.

Len lowers his gun, tilting his head slightly as he observes the newcomer's attack. He stomps on a twitching scraplet, crushing it with a metallic squeal, then nods at the other.

"That's a neat trick you've got there," he comments nonchalantly.

Andrew looks over in mild surprise before he notices a couple of scraplets aiming for the camera in his hand. But he easily sends them slamming against the wall with another gesture of his free hand.

"Uh, thanks." So that cold blast was coming from his weapon, then. "Cool gun."

He makes face that suggests he realized how lame that was.

Len chuckles, appreciative of the pun. "Yes, it is, isn't it?" He aims another freezing blast at a few stray bugs that have skittered through the hole, dropping them to the ground in a useless heap. That may be the last of them for now, but he doesn't put his gun away just yet, instead resting it casually against his shoulder.

"Got any other cool tricks up your sleeve, kid?"

Andrew instinctively pans his camera to catch the last few scraplets being blasted. Silly pun aside it was pretty cool - the guy's confidence and nonchalance in the situation is a touch intimidating but not enough to really bother him.

"Um, kind of. A few." He's not really the flashy type, though, so the question is met with that unsure response and some awkward shuffling. It's not that he wasn't confident in his ability or anything, it was just the simple fact that his social skills were incredibly shitty.

"Yeah? That's probably useful around here." Len keeps his tone conversational, not prying. Good to get information, maybe get someone else on his side. Too many of these kids running around with powers, now... better to have them with you than against you.

"What's with the camera?"

"Yeah, actually, it kind of is." Especially with all the other people around here who also have powers. He's glad in a lot of ways that he actually fits in even if just for that reason alone, but he's also not going to kid himself that he has to look out for himself because of it - if the fights he's been getting into is any indication.

He looks down at the camera for a moment, shrugging as he lets it float off to the side so he could cross his arms and look down, visibly withdrawing. "It's just a hobby." Even with a conversational tone Andrew is bad at talking about himself, so he attempts to shift the line of questioning. "Did you find that gun here? Or is it like, yours from home?"

Len notices the way the camera floats off in midair, but doesn't comment on it. Seems the kid doesn't want to talk too much about himself, anyway... something Len can understand.

"I had one similar at home," he replies. "But it didn't come here with me. I got this one built here to be just like it." He slips it back into the holster with familiar ease, patting the handle. "It got me my nickname back there... Captain Cold." A smirk... he's come to find the name amusing. "But my name's Len. You?"

Captain Cold. Well, he liked it, actually. Kind of on the nose but it sounded really cool. He actually looks up slightly, attempting to make a little bit of eye contact, but that lasts for maybe a couple of seconds after he introduces himself.

"Andrew." He fidgets with his sleeve some. "You know, I got my camera from home. I just asked for it and it came here. They could've probably got your gun too."

march event log

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So sorry for the delay ;_;

No worries at all! \o

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