semi-open;

[pallantias]

Who: Athena, Rhys and/or possibly you?
When: During the event
Where: Around the Moira
What: Athena readin’ minds
Warnings: None at the moment

Around the Moira [OTA]
[Whoever her mysterious new employers are, they’re a lot more… whimsical than Atlas.

At least, Athena thinks that’s the idea. In truth, the mask they’ve given them looks rather unnerving. Kind of like something a Psycho would come up with if their thing was cats and not the Vault. She puts the mask on in front of the mirror, looks uncertainly at her now feline reflection, and then quickly takes it off. Yeah. Not her thing. Needless to say, she leaves the mask in her quarters when she goes out for the day.

Thing is, everything’s a little bit different after that. Every time someone passes her in the hall, she can swear she hears them whispering, just softly enough that she can’t make out the words. If you run into Athena at this point, expect a lot of confused staring because she has no idea how or why everyone is suddenly taking the opportunity to show off their ventriloquy skills in the most disturbing way possible.

As the day goes on, she’ll start to realize that she’s not hearing their actual voices, but their thoughts. At this point, you might catch Athena staring intently at you from a distance -- she’s trying to be subtle about it, but subtle just isn’t really her thing. Not that she’s going to let this unprecedented opportunity to get more intel on her crewmates pass her by.]

At work [Closed to Rhys]
[Her curiosity is no better at work. She spends a few minutes trying to focus on the task at hand, but those whispers at the edge of her hearing keep her from concentrating. It isn’t very interesting work anyways and it isn’t long before she finds herself tuning into the thoughts of the people around her.

Rhys might notice Athena staring at him out of the corner of her eye, brow furrowed like she’s trying to make out a conversation through a haze of static. Once again, subtlety isn’t really her forte.]

Comments

[robotmom]

[ A couple years ago R&D, at Handsome Jack's calm and not-murderous behest, had a hand in annual performance review/physical/collecting of employee explanations as to why they shouldn't be spaced. And the predominant memory Rhys has from that time was the examination, really; it wasn't too long after Rhys' cybernetics had been installed and the attending couldn't stop making so why did you disturb the beehives in the biodome?- and the pneumatic laundry hampers aren't meant for faces-type comments, which wouldn't have been bad if he'd have just stopped poking Rhys' swollen left hemisphere of his face.

But anyway, shots were administered, and long story short, Handsome Jack's desire for a completely obedient and capable workforce did not come too pass because the nanomachine technology wasn't quite there yet, sorry kiddos. but hey! there were some fun side effects like the stray ECHO radio signals Rhys caught and a solid portion of logistics falling prey to a flesh-eating variant.

So these station-/ship-wide events, they tend to leave an impression. Rhys, he's hiding in Navigation, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He doesn't - doesn't! scream, but whoops there goes his idle, almost fond memory of watching Vaughn deal with his sudden and intense case of nanomachine-induced crotch itch. ]

Can I... help you?

[loaderbot voice] i am shame

[pallantias]

[At first, all she can pick up is the occasional word or image. Flashes of (mostly nonsensical) Hyperion worklife and faces she doesn’t recognize filter through her mind. The second Rhys realizes she’s staring at him though, another, much clearer thought comes to the forefront. A look that’s either amused or annoyed (honestly it’s difficult to tell with her) appears on her face.]

Why would I want to kill you? [Seriously, Rhys, you aren’t nearly enough of a threat to her for that to be necessary.]