( april intro log )

[hownkai]

Who: Everyone
When: April 1st and on
Where: The Moira + Del Pascia
What: The crew finds themselves visiting the correctional facility of Del Pascia.
Warnings: Mentions of blood. Please label your content!

I N T R O L O G

slammed & counted "I feel liberated when I'm doing it, and I want other people to feel liberated through it." 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. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay. Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. This process consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters. With the combined efforts of the crew, the terror plaguing the ship has been successfully removed from the Moira. Yet, it doesn’t come without consequences. Aside from the overall state of those aboard the ship, the Moira itself has taken considerable damage across various sections. Overall functionality seems stable for now, but with necessary repairs to be made and few supplies to actually make them with, the Captains have set a course for any nearby planet with the hope of finding what they need. However, that is much closer than it appears. As new arrivals begin coming through the Ingress, a message is received by those in the Tower and broadcast to everyone: Please be advised. Your vessel is now entering Restricted Space. As per penal code 65208-A, only authorized personnel are to be admitted beyond this point. If necessary, further assistance will be provided once docked. As there is little choice, the Captains instruct Navigation to proceed with caution. All transporters will be required to assist in taking those who volunteer to the main hub. WELCOME TO CORRECTIONAL FACILITY DEL PASCIA Del Pascia is one of many facilities across the universe built to maintain and rehabilitate its inhabitants. With a combined populace of both prisoners and employed civilians, it functions as both prison and living quarters. The central section of Del Pascia is divided into multiple floors that branch out into subdivisions of the facility—clearly and precisely labeled. For those contracted to work in the prison, Del Pas Main is home. There are cafeterias, common areas for exercise and general downtime, divided residences, and work stations. Beyond this area, each remaining wing of Del Pascia separates into cell blocks A through F with similar facilities available to the inmates. Varying degrees of criminals are brought to Del Pascia, ranging from maximum security to juvenile offenders, and security differs depending on which block is visited. Yet, there is something peculiar about this prison upon further investigation: there are no living persons within Del Pascia. The AI, which runs and oversees all of Del Pascia, has made arrangements with the Moira so that those who wish may board and take what is needed to begin repairs. This program, while generally polite in nature, goes simply by the name D-E-L. ☄ ENJOY YOUR STAY ... IN PRISON Those who choose to go to Del Pascia will find themselves greeted by D-E-L. It has already agreed to terms with the Captains, allowing crew to strip nonessential supplies that aren’t needed since the station’s crew and prisoners were relocated due to funding cuts. The only condition placed upon this agreement is that any crew wishing to explore must undergo a mandatory decontamination before proceeding through the rest of Del Pascia. This process takes only minutes and is guaranteed to cause no physical side effects. Following this simple procedure, exploration is open with only warnings to be careful about damaging key systems. It is important to note that there are various security cameras located throughout the correctional facility, and it is not uncommon for D-E-L to comment or show concern for those exploring parts of Del Pascia. ☄ DEATH BECOMES YOU There is salvage to be found in all parts of the facility, including the cell blocks and infirmaries of the prison wings. However, there is something odd about these sectors, a strange charge in the air that follows you as you search for anything useful to bring back to the Moira. Perhaps it is the eyes of D-E-L watching? But then, after an indiscernible amount of time, it's like a switch is flipped. Suddenly, you are wearing your sins where anyone but you can see. For however much death you have wrought or committed, there will be blood on your hands—perhaps even further than that. This bizarre occurrence will appear as an almost digital skin and will not vanish until outside the cell blocks. If exploring the infirmaries for supplies, any and all health stats throughout your life will be visible and easy to read by anyone who happens to take an interest. For those who have killed once or twice, they might find a red stain on their hands, but the higher the kill count will result in larger proportions of blood covering their arms and, in extreme cases, perhaps their entire body. The blood will vanish once you have left the prison wing, though you may occasionally see a flicker of the image while anywhere on the station. The same goes for health stats viewed in infirmary sections of Del Pascia. ☄ WHAT WAS THAT SOUND? Del Pascia is a very large station and has been abandoned for quite some time. D-E-L will regretfully inform anyone who asks that some nonessential areas have fallen into disrepair. It will warn that exploring these areas can be risky as it has no knowledge of what damage these sections have taken. Regardless of that, if you venture in, you’ll find that these sections are in rather bad shape. Exposed wiring sparks in the walls, a great variety of broken tools are thrown about, and it seems that every camera has been purposely broken. Venturing in further will yield valuable components for salvage, and yet... as before, you suspect you aren’t alone. It isn’t often, but sometimes, you might hear a step falling moments after yours or a rattle coming from the vents. Every time you go to investigate... whatever made the noise is gone. Should the AI be queried about this, D-E-L will emphasize that all personnel and prisoners were removed and that there is no one on board except crew from the Moira. ( ooc; For questions, go here. All players, please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )

Comments

[knaval]

...Okay?

[THAT'S WEIRD why would anyone find him awkward he's lame.]

Look-- it is, just. Ignore it? Pretend you didn't see it, alright. I don't really want it to be a thing.

[redshitlord]

Really?

Why not? I mean, no one gets cool names like that back home.

[LET HIM THINK YOU'RE COOL, RIPTIDE.]

[knaval]

[NOOOOOOOOOO]

It's-- related to something I don't really want to discuss with you? Or anyone? Jeez. Are we scanning or not? I mean-- where's your data, huh? Let me ask invasive questions about your life!

[it's not a sore spot YOU'RE A SORE SPOT.]

[redshitlord]

Okay, okay, chill. You just had to say that.

[His data is ... probably significantly less dramatic than Riptide's. With an age that puts him at what's basically robot teenager-hood, minimal injury aside from things your usual active, athletic, street racing idiot would run into. Barring something that says something along the lines of "GRENADE DAMAGE: healed".]

[It's woefully unimpressive.]

You can just ask, dude.

[knaval]

Alright. What's up with the grenade damage? You don't look like someone who would get one of those thrown at you.

[or... even be in a situation for one. damn, maybe he really did annoy the wrong person?]

[redshitlord]

Oh, that. It's nothing! Some 'con was trying to blow Bee up, and I kinda stopped it.

It was pretty awesome.

[He says this with fingerguns, so that kind of ruins it.]

[knaval]

Bee?

[what. who is that. what.]

[redshitlord]

Oh! Right! Bumblebee. He's kinda the guy in charge back home. Which is okay, I guess.

He's not so bad.

[knaval]

...Huh.

[nooot even gonna touch that with a 10ft bargepole.]

If you say so. Good job for saving him, I guess.

[redshitlord]

Thanks, dude.

[Aw, lookit him smile.]

He's a good friend. Even if he's kind of a stick in the mud about a lot of stuff.

[knaval]

Right. So. Uh. We were gonna scan something?

[haha enough about this dead guy...]

[redshitlord]

Oh, right.

Scan yourself. So we know you're not like, dying or something.

[knaval]

I'm not a medic. You're the one that was so freaked out about it, why don't you figure out this weird equipment?

[he says, poking at a hanging light. no, riptide, that's probably not a scanner.]

[redshitlord]

Sheesh, fine.

[He'll wander around, poking at things to see what makes noise. Nothing really does, though. Whoops. Probably because he's poking the wrong parts of things.]

[knaval]

[riptide does the same, trying not to think too hard about sideswipe knowing bumblebee.]

So, uh. That energon you saw. Was it coming from a source, or something. Did my beautiful face look damaged?

[redshitlord]

Nah, your face was fine. I checked.

[... Sideswipe no.]

... cause I was looking for where it came from. [Nice save.] But it just looked like you got splashed all in it.

[knaval]

Huh. Okay, creepy. I didn't see any on you, so I guess no-one sprayed us when we weren't looking.

...


Obviously this place is haunted. WooooOoOOoooo, spooky!

[redshitlord]

Maybe because I'm not damaged.

[GRUMBLE MUTTER.]

Oh hah, hah. You're hilarious, dude. [As he pushes a little at Riptide's side.]

[knaval]

Oh, I know I am. You don't need to tell me.

[cheshire cat-like grin here.]

Try that thing over there. The small thing. You have smaller hands than me.

[he points at something on the other side of the room that looks vaguely like a scanner attached to a medical berth.

human sized, again.]

oh no that icon.....

[redshitlord]

[SHOVE... for all the good it does.]

Yeah, yeah, fine.

[But he pads over to check it out. Squinting at it. And, you know, poking around with it to try and turn it on.]

[And when it DOES turn on, it's with a groan and a flash of lights on one side. He actually ducks, startled.]

a happy fish

[knaval]

Huh. Well, that seems medical-y.

[riptide delicately clomps over and hesitantly holds a hand out under it. it whistles.]

Why is organic tech so weird? I don't get this. [he waves his hand a little harder.] I don't--

[redshitlord]

It's either weird or creepy, honestly. And trust me, we live in a scrapyard.

[He pokes more buttons while it whistles and beeps.]

[Only to suddenly pop up with a live scan of Riptide's hand.]

... whoa.

[knaval]

Ooh!

[it's more a squeak than anything. of shock.]

Well, that works. Alright, you first.

[redshitlord]

Sure...?

[And he, very, very skeptically, puts a hand under the scanner. It's human-sized after all. And even as noodle-like and small as he is? He's not going to fit all of him under there.]

[knaval]

[riptide bends down, squinting at the read out.]

...Well, your hand is in good condition. That solves that mystery.