thisavrou_log | march event log

Entry tags:

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! )

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[When the door opens, Miller holds onto the wall and makes those few hops forward, gripping the doorway and looking at the carnage.]

[Never has he been more gratified to see that.]

Good job, Rinzler. [He says gratefully, before noticing Alan.]

Sorry. I'm a little bit of a mess. [He reaches out with his artificial hand. At least that's still intact.]

[The fight is like nothing Alan has ever seen before. The pests may as well be actual insects with the ease with which Rinzler destroys them, each strike landing as effortlessly as breathing. As the last scraplet falls to the program, Alan almost forgets his purpose there until the program turns to face him, those fluid movements immediately locking and becoming halting and sharp in his presence.

Alan takes that as his cue to walk over, stepping over the metal scraps that now litter the floor.] That was something else. [A smile.] Looks like I was wrong to worry. [Since it’s quite clear Rinzler is much more of a threat to the scraplets than they are to him.]

[He looks over to the doorway as it slides open and a man hobbles out. Alan can’t help but wince sympathetically when he sees the blood staining the other’s pants leg.]

No need to apologize. [He reaches out to shake the proffered hand.] I’m Alan. Sorry we have to meet like this.

[Miller's thanks receives a cautious twitch of the mask in acknowlegement. Rinzler doesn't quite dare look away from his user, though, and when Alan-one smiles, the helmet ducks with a wave of genuine relief. Not a violation.

More... if that expression was any sign, he might actually have made his user proud.

It's a nice change. The harsh stutter of sound eases, and Rinzler's next glance across the wreckage holds a little more of his usual satisfaction with his skill. He stays where he is, disk filling his left hand as the program projects his scans through the corridor, watching for oncoming threats. Still, the helmet doesn't stray far from the users, and Rinzler's gaze sneaks back more than once behind it. Miller doesn't seem much worse, but the increased red is worrying.]

Rinzler's skilled. And efficient. [He confirms, having seen him work in a lot of aspects. He shakes Alan's hand, but then holds his arm up higher to grab at his shoulder. He needs the human brace.] And luckily, not very appetizing to those things. I don't have traditional prosthetics, but I have ones generated like the artificial environments in the simulation room. I guess that's enough for them.

[Which is why it seems to be gone entirely.] They bit the generator, and my leg with it. [It's frustrating. Infuriating. He just got this thing so he wouldn't feel helpless anymore, he wouldn't have to ask. And he ended up a target.]

[More than Rinzler’s skills (impressive as they are), Alan is proud that his program is out helping people in the midst of this chaos. And hearing this man speak favorably of the program is a nice change from Alan’s first week aboard the Moira.

Alan isn’t familiar with the mechanics of the “simulation room” on the ship, but it’s simple enough to understand from the context. He glances down at the blood staining the man’s clothes once again, face lined with concern.] Looks like a deep bite. [It’s certainly more blood than Alan is used to seeing. He’s not medically experienced enough to make any sure statements about the danger of blood loss but it’s enough to kickstart his sense of urgency all the same.]

We should start moving before more of those things show up. [At least Rinzler seems to be watching their backs. Alan shifts to Miller’s side, carefully moving his hand to his other shoulder so the man can lean on him. He stays watchful of the other's reactions -- Alan's never had to do something like this after all.] Does that work for you?

[The open praise does draw a look, circuits brightening just a little in pleased surprise. But Rinzler would hardly be efficient at all if he let their words distract him from his task, and the enforcer logs the conversation for later review as he keeps up the sweeping scans.

Alan-one's not the only one harboring a sense of urgency, and it isn't long before the program can feel... something. Not in sight, not swarming—not yet. Probably their group hasn't even been observed. But there are whispers of motion off to the left, a creeping shift of minute errors. Rinzler's disk lights with a low hum as he shifts forward a half-step, helmet jerking down the other corridor. He'll cover them if the threats close, but they should move. That way.]

Affirmative. [He confirms when he sees Rinzler give some warning. And he shifts to accept that hold around Alan's shoulders, falling into a force stride so that his right leg will match.]

Yeah, that works. [The words are less forceful than the one's he'd spoken to Rinzler. Like the difference between a sergeant confirming a troop's intent and a beleaguered businessman. Kaz was very much both, and he was hurting and discouraged.] Thanks. I'll owe you one.

[After taking a moment to adjust to the new weight leaning against his shoulders, Alan falls into step next to Miller in the direction Rinzler had indicated. He watches the other’s reactions as they walk, alert for any sign that he needs to adjust.] Don’t mention it. I’m glad to help. [It’s not like Alan is doing this in expectation of a reward later; it’s just the right thing to do given the circumstances.]

I remember there being quite a lot of machinery in the medbay. We should be prepared to run into more of those things there. [Said to both Miller and Rinzler, though he expects the information will be more pertinent to the program, as he’ll likely be the one fending them off. At least from what Alan had seen earlier, the program doesn’t seem to be in any danger protecting Miller; the creatures show no interest in attacking Rinzler himself and even if they did, Alan gets the feeling that the program would still be more than capable of defending himself.]

Edited 2016-04-03 18:28 (UTC)

[Rinzler's weapon stays lit, flashing out once to cut down a lone scraplet skittering around a corner. But when it rebounds back to him, he keeps it in hand. It takes effort not to go further, split the weapons and set out in pursuit after the groups he can feel gnawing at the system. Rinzler knows his priorities, though, and for now he sticks to shadowing the users, scans checking each junction as they come to it.

Alan-one's warning receives a quick nod. Probable. When they reach their destination, he'll move out in front.]

More of those things there?

....Shit.

[It's obvious from the sound of it that he doesn't want to have to deal with more of them.]

Okay. Can you just get me to my room and help me get something strong from the bar? Very strong. I'm going to wrap this up myself until I hear the area's clear.

[He can always go then. But he's not going to risk an attack on the arm that he just got.] Don't worry. I know what I'm doing. I've had to do it before.

[Alan stops, alarmed by the man’s sudden change of plan. Especially since it doesn’t sound like a particularly safe plan.] Are you sure? [He glances from Miller to Rinzler, brow furrowed.] Even if there are more there, Rinzler should be able to clear them out.

[The program pauses as directed, but his mask tilts sideways in concern. Alan-one's commentary receives a sharp nod. Miller might be more durable than most users, but that didn't seem like any reason to stall repair further. Especially not when he was leaking.

Rinzler can delete the threats. It's what he's for.]

Because if they've been in there, then they've probably been attacking equipment. And they'll probably be too occupied to do any significant repairs.

[Which means it would be a two way trip. One there. One back, and both ways he'd need support and protection.]

Damn.

[He rubs his brow with the back of his hand, hoping to keep blood off his face as he does, and adjusts his glasses.] No. I can do this. I'll do a quick and dirty bandage, and go there when I know they're prepared to deal with it.

[That overwhelming urge to help himself somewhat is screaming at him. To not just be dragged up there and sit on a table and wait as they had to fight everything off.] Please. I can do it. And I will go when there's less resistance. I promise. I just don't want those things near my arm, too.

[As much as he hates to admit it, Alan can see Miller’s logic. Not only is it unlikely that the medbay is currently equipped to replace the prosthetic, but even if it were, it would only make Miller a target once again. But the idea of leaving the man in his room to patch himself up with makeshift bandages and alcohol doesn’t sit right with Alan either.]

Do you live on Nomo Deck? I don't think there's enough metal there to interest these things... [Alan doesn’t sound that happy about this new plan, but it’s ultimately Miller’s call -- Alan’s not the one currently down one leg.

Which doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try to at least adjust the plan to make it somewhat safer.] Maybe the medbay can’t offer any repairs right now, but they have to have something for first aid: disinfectant, clean bandages… How about we get you to your room and then one of us can go to the medbay and bring you some actual supplies? [He glances back at Rinzler.] We can decide which one of us should go when we see what state Nomo Deck is in. [Rinzler would certainly be faster for supply retrieval, but if the creatures are infesting even Nomo Deck, then the program might have to stay behind to make sure they don’t take the man’s arm as well.]

[Again, Rinzler's stare lags on Miller for a moment—especially at that please. He's not unaware of how much that word can cost. Alan-one's speech reclaims attention, though, and Rinzler ducks his helmet, busying himself with checking the directory to confirm that deck listing.

Definitely Nomo. The user's glance draws a quick dip of the mask in affirmation; he can perform the run if needed. For now, Rinzler turns his attention back down the hallway, reversing with a step towards their new route.

On the bright side, there isn't nearly as far to go.]

Alright. They won't come after you.

Room 7. [He gives them both nods of confirmation. Yeah, that's a good plan. His thought was to go nowhere near the infirmary for supplies. But it's true that they won't attack them.]

[Alan follows Rinzler’s change of direction, still feeling some misgiving at this new plan as they move towards Nomo Deck. Maybe the medbay wouldn’t be able to replace Miller’s prosthetic, but it would provide a sterile environment and people who knew what they were doing. Alan may not have much in ways of medical experience, but he is aware of the risk for infection if something like this isn’t treated properly, and that risk only increases the longer Miller goes without proper medical attention.]

Have you treated this kind of injury before? [Alan can’t completely keep the the worry out of his tone.] If not, I might be able to see if the medbay can spare anyone to help...

[Once the users are moving, Rinzler resumes his position just behind and to the side. He's getting more accustomed to picking out the tiny signatures, and twice more, a disk flashes out—once to wipe a couple stragglers eating an access lock around a corner just ahead, and once, a lone scraplet crawling out of a grate. No larger swarms yet, but if they stay out in the halls, it's only a matter of time.

Probably a good thing they won't need to. Nomo Deck stretches out ahead, and for now, the area looks clear.]

I've had bullet wounds in the Colombian jungle. Stab wounds in Costa Rica. Worse materials to fix ones self than here.

Still hurts like hell. Gotta admit. [He chuckled about it, knowing it's nothing to shrug off.] I'm a survivalist instructor.

[Alan raises an eyebrow at Miller’s descriptions of previous wounds. He’s assuming those wounds were inflicted before the man became a survivalist instructor. If the man had seen combat, it might also explain the presence of the prosthetics in the first place.] If you’re sure…

[It isn’t long before they’re at the entrance of Nomo Deck and Alan comes to a stop a few feet away from the door. From what he’s heard, it’s probably safe, but with Miller already injured, he’d rather that be a certainty. He looks back at Rinzler.] You should go in ahead of us. Make sure there aren’t more of those things waiting in there.

[Rinzler's helmet dips immediately, and the program moves ahead. He'll wait for Miller to key the door open, then slip inside, disk active.

There's a short pause—longer than Rinzler would like, but he isn't making a mistake again. But there are no sounds of combat, no skittering or bright slice of a disk, and when the armored shape reappears in the doorway, it's only to nod the users in.

The room's clear.]

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march event log

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TFW WHEN YOU WROTE A TAG DAYS AGO AND FORGOT TO POST IT D:

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