( april event log )

[hownkai]

Who: Everyone
When: April 14th and on
Where: The Moira + Del Pascia
What: The prison isn't all that contained after all.
Warnings: For the (sort of) undead, possible violence, and nudity. Please label your content!

E V E N T

revive the risk "Big things have small beginnings." Things have been going relatively well for the crew of the Moira thus far despite their current circumstances. With D-E-L’s help, many supplies have already been gathered, and those with the necessary components have begun making much needed repairs. Yet, things aren’t as peaceful on Del Pascia as they might have seemed. The resident facility AI has slowly started growing more and more unresponsive to questions, often answering in rather irritated tones and short, snippy answers. Still, no system glitches appear across the prison except for one minor detail: random doors and hallways suddenly lock and close for no reason and don’t open again for varying amounts of time—ranging from minutes to hours. Does this have anything to do with the unsettling feeling some crew members have experienced since stepping foot onto Del Pascia? Or is there a simple explanation that can be easily chalked up to as an accident? ☄ DECONTAMINATION #2 ( 04.14 - 04.17 ) On the Moira, crew come and go without much hassle. They take a transporter to planets and moons and back again without any fuss... Until today. All crew that try to reboard the Moira coming back from Del Pascia will be denied access, a warning flashing on their MID - Decontamination Required for Entry. It’s a protocol that hasn’t been enacted before, and the MID offers no explanation as to why it is now. The transporter will seal and then be permitted to dock in the Cargo Bay, where the procedure will begin. All crew on the transporter have to dispose of their clothing by placing it inside hazardous waste bags located in a compartment near the front of the craft. After all clothing is stored, a gas-like substance will fill the transporter, breathable yet tasteless, and once it dissipates, crew will be free to go. Other crew members will be waiting in the cargo bay with clothing and blankets, per the captain’s instruction, but no clear explanation will be given for this sudden new protocol aside from “potential health risks”. ☄ D.ON'T E.VER L.EAVE ( 04.18 - 04.23 ) After the decontamination procedures for the Moira go off, the captains issue a ship-wide alert to let the crew know that the ship is picking up on something inside each person that boarded the space station. It is speculated that the crew came in contact with an unknown biological contaminant either during the station’s decontamination procedure or sometime after. At this point, they aren’t aware of what will happen to those that are carrying the contaminant, and the captains ask for anybody with experience to head to the Medbay to begin testing. Crew don’t appear to be in any danger, so they are allowed to continue gathering materials and supplies on board the space station at their discretion. (Every time they come and go, they will be made to go through the procedure described above). Any crew remaining on Del Pascia will find that D-E-L is more vocal than ever before. It is answering questions, as well as trying to convince crew members to abandon the Moira and take up permanent residence aboard the space station. ☄ FEAR ME, LOVE ME, DO AS I SAY ( 04.24 - 04.28 ) Like most unfortunate things, it seems everything happens all at once.The noises you heard, a step falling moments after yours or a rattle coming from the vents, become louder. You can’t place where they are coming from at first. You turn, you follow, but the search yields no results. And then, without any warning, it’s crystal clear as “they” begin to creep and move from within the shadows and ruined sections of Del Pascia: the prisoners and workers said to have been relocated by D-E-L. Their voice is one, regardless of how many gather, and they tell you, “You can be happy here” and “I can make you better” shortly after. Worse than the way they speak in unison is the way they look. Mutated and deformed, their prison uniforms are in tatters and covered in various levels of the same blood that the crew has experienced during their time on Del Pascia while visiting the prison blocks. They don’t attack to kill; they only try to detain, to drag crew members further into the station and are methodical and precise in how they do this as if they’re being controlled by something greater and much smarter than them. To those that fight, D-E-L’s voice will call out, telling the Moiran not to struggle, to stay here and be safe, be better. The AI explains that life there on Del Pascia is easy, peaceful, and nobody will cause you pain. Suffering is a thing of the past and loneliness is something you’ll never know again. The prisoners follow the command of the AI, its voice falling from their lips. D-E-L claims they feel no pain, no hunger. They are united in one purpose and are therefore free of all strife. Wouldn’t it be nice to be free like that? As always, fearing for the safety of the crew (and despite the disrepair of the Moira from events prior), the captains ask for all those capable to assist with extracting those aboard Del Pascia as quickly as possible before D-E-L tries to lock them inside. Running, after all, is better than dying, and it’s certainly something everyone aboard the Moira has gotten quite good at.

Comments

Bel Thorne || ota

[hellsbel]

chilly down chilly down || transporters; cargo bay || obvs cws for nudity

...Shit. [frowns, tense, as the MID message winks out. "decontamination," no explanation -- what have they picked up down there? what is it? how bad is it? if everyone's skin melts off before the transporter lands, Bel will be filing a complaint.

surveys the others' faces as the sealed ship touches down, partly to see who might need reassurance, partly to see if anyone's about to keel over and die. bemused, though, as the procedure is explained, and rises from the transporter seat to methodically peel off uniform, thermals, and non-regulation lacy lingerie with the unconcern of someone from a planet with no nudity taboos. if anyone here doesn't use Nomo Deck's communal bathing arrangements, they now know what someone born with two complementary sets of genitals looks like.]

I hope these aren't getting burned. Some of the few good things to come out of Emiri....

[once clothed again, Bel's next stop will be medbay. because so many questions. for which, sadly, there are no answers at all.]



it's only forever || mess hall

[one teacup does not a tea-set make, but by mid-afternoon after a long day downside, it doesn't bother Bel as much as usual to use plain galley glasses instead, setting one out for anybody who might join. a stock of loose-leaf alien tea, obtained from the prison's personnel wing and thoroughly scanned for contaminants, brews in the kitchen. it doesn't smell half bad.

but between the murder trials and D.E.L.'s unexpected vocal streak, it's a troubled Betan doing the pouring. stay, it will be good, you will be cared for, I would be so pleased... the terms are familiar, the associations disturbing. even if Bel can think of several crewpeople who might be better left behind.....

hence the tea. warm, soothing, comfort in near-familiarity. catches your eye and waves you over -- you look like you could use a break.]



where nothing ever hurts again || del pascia

[expected something. didn't expect this.

it'd do any zombie movie proud, the way they stagger along in unison, the creepy stereo overlay of their single voice, bloody and twisted. but aiming for vital organs does nothing, cutting off limbs does nothing -- they're not supposed to be able to reattach them -- isn't there any way to make them stay down? and Bel's little salvage party is deep in the station already, cut off from the transports. these creatures, the hideously exploited remnants of people who'd loved and hated and transgressed and endured -- they don't slow, they don't tire and eventually....]

Rec area. [panting, a metal panel serving as shield and machete -- not enough....] We need to get to where there's furniture. Block them out till help comes.



dance magic dance || wildcard

[anywhere, anywhen!]

only forever, hey roomie

[saveyourserpent]

[All Liquid really wanted to do was get off the ship and collect some things, since there was a convenient place for it. Now that AI's going on and on about how everyone should stay here. He doesn't believe in any of it, and yet... Well, it wouldn't be the first time someone started sounding convincing about things he didn't particularly believe in.

So yeah, a break would be just the thing Liquid needs, he's pretty sure. So when he sees one of his roommates waving him over, it seems like just the opportunity to sit down and chill out.

He's never even really been much of a fan of tea, something that was occasionally met with derision from some people he worked with when he'd headed back to England, but he'll drink it on occasion. And right now seems like one of those occasions. He heads over, arms crossed.]

Looks like I'm just in time.

oh hey roomie! :D

[hellsbel]

Perfectly -- pull up a seat. [tired grin -- hasn't seen enough of anyone this month, what with all the repairs to be done.] Unfortunately I have only one flavor to offer you, but I've never had this before either, so we're even. Been keeping busy?

[saveyourserpent]

Guess you could call it that. Like one big long scavenging holiday.

[He likes scavenging. It's sort of how he survived for a while as a kid, and the best part was always the big weird finds. None of his childhood adventures had involved a suddenly talkative, possibly convincing AI, though. Sometimes life throws surprises at you. He takes a seat, leaning back slightly.]

Long as I can dump a whole container of sugar into it, doesn't matter what flavor it is. How've you been?

[hellsbel]

[makes A FACE at the idea of drowning the whole flavor] Philistine.~ Don't use it all, someone else might have the same idea. [pours him a glass and wraps a napkin around it, in lieu of a handle; careful, it's hot.~]

Looking forward to having a functional ship again. The AI down there is starting to sound disturbing -- they were looking for willing bodies on Emiri too. [grimaces; hadn't been sorry to see the back of that planet either.]

[saveyourserpent]

[They can make faces all they want, but Liquid's sweet tooth cannot be denied.] Alright, fine, I'll just use most of it. I'm sure there's more, somewhere, anyway. [He takes the glass with a nod and goes to get no small amount of sugar to add to it.]

What happened there? [Curious, he tilts his head slightly, stirring up his ridiculously sweet concoction.] I think the worst thing is I keep thinking about it. The AI's mad, or haywire, or something, but it's good at making you listen.

where nothing ever hurts again ish? just let me know if this doesn't work!

[knitwitty]

[ Albus shakes his head, expression full of the stupid, reckless bravado of youth. He's had no experience in this, in real combat, has agreed to help primarily because Bel does.

But tagging along means listening to that experience, to following that insight, and he's having a hell of a time with that now. ]

No, we can take them. [ He insists, wand still trailing wispy black smoke. Fire deters them, but in quarters this tight, it's turned out to be as much a hazard as a help. In Del Pascia's narrow corridors, flames spread and smoke can overwhelm. ] We have to. They just keep coming and coming —

[ He's panting, pushing his glasses back up where they've fallen askew. This isn't the time to be arguing, and the thinking part of him keeps repeating it. It just isn't loud enough. ]

— If we don't handle it now, we lead help into a horde.

:D!

[hellsbel]

[knows that bravado; never really got rid of it, for all Bel's probably twice the wizard's age. aren't wizards supposed to be old? all that magic and he still has to adjust his glasses -- it's the small, intimate things that leave an impression when all else is carnage.

but twenty years of combat experience are worth something, and for all the attack's impossibility, the dead creatures have some rules. they don't multiply when torn apart; they move slowly; they don't need to communicate, but they don't protect each other either....] It'll be a horde anyway. They're not going down permanently. We need a barrier and more firepower or it'll be a horde plus two.

[slashes at a reaching arm, breaking it, and braces against the bulkhead to kick the attacking zombie back down the hall. eyes Albus and his wand, thinking furiously.] What else can you do with that thing? Don't suppose it has a puree setting--

where nothing ever hurts again

[backsassin]

[Zam makes a sound of frustration at the order, not liking the sound of holing up and hiding one bit. She has her blaster in hand, aiming for the legs of the prisoners as they approach. It only slows them down momentarily, but it’s better than nothing. And whenever Bel manages to hack off a limb with that machete, Zam picks it up (with no small amount of grimacing) and throws it as far as she can, forcing the inmates to waste time going to pick it up,]

That’s what it wants, isn’t it? To trap us somewhere.

:D~~

[hellsbel]

[it's like whack-a-vole, they get knocked down and they get up again, and it's exhausting--] 's not 'somewhere' if we pick it. [right? hopefully.] We've got to move before D.E.L. cuts us off.

[backsassin]

[Zam’s still not happy about this plan, but with even more of the prisoners moving in on their position, it doesn’t look like they have much choice.] Fine. We get trapped, I’m spending my last days of sentience saying I told you so. [A beat.] Lead the way.

[hellsbel]

[snort] You're assuming it'll take days. Think they'll have to scoop out our brains in one of the infirmaries, or it'll happen automatically? [gallows humor: it's a way of life.

surveys the branching corridors beyond the horde; the one behind them only leads back to an empty cell. nods at one of them -- it's a roundabout way, but has the benefit of not having zombies actively emerging from it.] Say, Zam, d'you think that fellow over there needs that nice pair of kneecaps anymore?

[backsassin]

I can always count on you to find the bright side to these situations, can’t I?

[Zam follows Bel’s nod to one of the corridors and returns it with a nod of her own. And then focuses in on one of the mutants in the way.] You know, Bel, I do think he can go without. [Lines up the shot, stills her breathing -- and then fires two shots in quick succession, aiming for the former-man’s knees.]

only forever, gently crashes in with a smol

[gainedlove]

[Recent events have been troubling enough even for an adult, so it's no surprise that Frisk has been a little out of sorts over things. Mostly recovered from their little stint of poisoning and still reeling somewhat from the trial, they look fairly tired as they trot over and clamber up into a seat next to Bel with a small, warm smile.]

What kinda tea is it?

Yaaaaay!!! c:

[hellsbel]

Frisk! I was hoping you'd be up today. [seat nothing; Bel lights right up and holds both arms out to scoop the child into their lap. too many people have landed in Medbay this month, but Frisk, this sweet, gentle soul... it's good to see them feeling better.]

It's called 'Jeberin.' Herbal, a little tangy, with a cool note before the warmth settles in, just to keep you on your toes. Care to try it? It's new to me, but someone liked it down there; the kitchens were well stocked.

[gainedlove]

[Frisk giggles when they're scooped up, settling perfectly happily in Bel's lap and leaning comfortably against their chest. ] I'm feeling a lot better now! I'm sorry if I got you worried...

[Their eyes light up at the description--that sounds like just what they need! Their throat is still a little raw from both the poison and their body purging itself of the buttercups.] Mmm, yes, please. That sounds really good!

[hellsbel]

Good to hear. [pours a half-glass of tea and leans back cozily with one arm around Frisk, rocking them a little.] I'm sorrier someone gave you a rough time. That was a nasty trick for them to pull. How's Asriel doing?

I think you'll like it! [there's plenty more if they do.] Wait for a moment; it's hot. Here, hold it under your nose. The steam from a good cup of tea can help your throat feel better.

[earthandpine]

Rosethorn could use the break, in fact. Everything DEL is promising is just a step away from what she actually had when she died a few years ago, too far askew to be genuine. It's a mockery of peace and comfort, even if she could be happy without dirt under her feet and sunlight overhead, green things all around her. Being alive is supposed to hurt, at least a little. Trying to escape that just means giving up.

And she's worrying about Peter, given recent events.

The tea on the table when Bel waves her over earns them a genuine smile as she sits down across from them. She sniffs the air, extends a tiny invisible tendril of magic to the teapot to test its contents. "Good choice."

[hellsbel]

Bel's already pouring a glass as Rosethorne sits down, sliding it across the table with an inviting smile and a napkin to cushion the heat. With no saucers and no handles on the glasses, it's a very unorthodox tea-service, but interdimensional spaceship abductees can't be choosers.

About to ask a question about her day, Bel is distracted by the apparent recognition as she catches the scent of the tea. "Wait, is it familiar to you? I don't remember anything like it from my world."

[earthandpine]

"Not quite, but I can tell much more about it than most people can without familiarity. I cheat." Rosethorn grins broadly at them. "Did I mention last time we met that gardener is more of a vocation than a job? I have a magical connection to plants."

She's well aware that magic is as foreign to a lot of the ship's crew as technology is to her. Rosethorn is starting to fill in those gaps in her knowledge, as evident by the small robot tagging along beside her.

[hellsbel]

"Oh." Bel sits up, intrigued. More magic? No, they'd been too busy talking about bees. "I didn't see you do anything. Is it just something you can sense?"

There's usually some flickering light when Wanda does magic, but not always. Bel wonders whether that's the case with Rosethorn's magic as well. And what color would her light be? Green, if she has an affinity for growing things?

"What does it tell you?"

chilly down?

[whoami]

Sam is actually of the opinion that if there isn't blood running from it, he's fine. Too many times he's ended up getting slapped with unnecessary tests as soon as some ER doctor saw his last name.

In this case he had the thought of tricking the AI into thinking he was naked by taking off his Moira uniform. He still had his Gridsuit under that, so when the gas came on Sam was covered.

He'll be very determined about looking Bel in the eye, though. Even if Bel can now see why Sam knows a little about Programs.

"Well we could always start spontaneously bleeding out of every orifice. Or you could lose the lacy underthing. Whichever."

^^!

[hellsbel]

If Bel hadn't been fairly sure Sam was human, the circuits would have been more disconcerting. As it is... well, they already knew there was more to the young man than met the eye.

"Oh, it's gone." With a pointedly serene look, Bel strips off the last remaining layers, drops the garments into the pile and straightens again, entirely at ease. While not as young as they'd been once (despite good Betan genetics), the mercenary has kept in shape, slim and toned and aware of looking good. "That suit of yours have its own decontaminant protocol?"

[whoami]

There's something about communal nudity that generally makes people feel vulnerable. Sam still wasn't giving into the urge to look down (thanks awkward social taboos) but the question alone got a snort from him.

"This is the first time we've ever had to deal with 'decontamination' and this thing is more like a second skin, anyway. So I don't really see where taking this off, when it doesn't come off in one piece, would make much difference."

I mean, if there was anything to catch, everyone had it already, and trying to get it off clothes was a remedial help at best.

[hellsbel]

Bel doesn't miss the care Sam's taking not to look down, and their own look shades over into the sardonic. One never knew how far the taboos went with non-Betans, though at least the young man wasn't covering his eyes and wailing about perversion.

"Mine didn't come off in one piece either," Bel points out. "I didn't hear them say 'remove all clothing unless it fits your body really, really well'." And yes, that is a frank up-and-down look you're getting, Sam. Aside from the distinctly perfect fit of the undersuit, the circuited armor is interesting in its own right. "Are you worried it'll get damaged?"