thisavrou_log | ( april event log )

Entry tags:

( april event log )

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!

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sorry, man, but I don't."

As soon as Scott's hand is free he kicks his foot, and it's enough to dislodge the creature from his other arm. It's not what he'd been going for but it works for him. He glances up at Niko, then turns his head to click his helmet closed.

"Be back in a jiffy."

He hits the buttons with his thumbs and shrinks down to roughly the size of an ant.

"Uh...."

Niko stared blandly down at the ground.

"...Okay. I guess."

Then he used the lighter on the trail, sparking the streak of fluid up and making the thing bolt back. Didn't matter if he couldn't hack at them or shoot them too good. Fire never felt great even to squiggly frankendemons.

He could give off one of the bottles to Scott when he... was not tiny.... or wherever he was now, he lost track.

Edited 2016-04-17 00:14 (UTC)

He uses his new size to move quickly as far back as possible. Surveying the room, he watches as Niko sets the creatures ablaze, and he realizes he doesn't really need to do anything. Scott hits the button, going back to his normal size.

"Looks like you've got this under control, man."

Scott folds his arms over his chest, cocking a hip, going for a super relaxed and nonchalant stance.

"But we better get going."

"No wait. I mean for you to take this." He jammed out one of his bottles. He had no idea what was in it, something from the infirmary. But it had the smell he recognized, and a name that sounded flammable. Worked well enough to a man used to guerrilla warfare in a land of vodka bottles and gasoline.

"They don't like crossing fire. I don't like doing it either, but you know.... works to an advantage."

Which was why matches would come in really handy.

"Thanks, man."

Scott takes the bottle, popping it open to take a quick sniff. He doesn't recognize it by the scent, but it does smell flammable. He's not against using fire if that's what kills them, but it's unpredictable and dangerous, so he'll be careful with it.

"Why don't we look for something to light them up with?"

He gestures behind him, a subtle hint that Scott doesn't want to linger and get pinned down again.

"Yeah, staying in one place too long just sort of gets them more on the "on of us!" chant. And I am not so much enjoying that."

He moved to follow Scott, putting away his lighter and checking the clip on his gun. He was very low.

"I'm Niko, by the way. I am a Cargo Bay guy." In that if you've seen me around, that's probably where voice.

Scott had some pym particle discs on him still, but he didn't really want to use them until he was able to replicate more. He really wasn't enjoying the image of having one of these creatures miniature sized either. Nobody wants a pocket-sized zombie monster.

"Nice to meet you, Niko. I'm Scott."

Turning around to quickly stick his hand out, he shakes Niko's hand.

"I think I've seen you around. I'm the vent cleaning guy."

"Did they do that to you because you can do the tiny? ...Because if they do that to you because you can do the tiny that is not fair."

He had no idea how else to describe what Scott just did back there. But he was ready to get out (sans pocket sized bitty horrors).

"Alright, you hear anyone else around here?" He looked down the next hallway, preparing himself for the worst. Though, all in all, this seemed pretty usual.

"I don't know, man. I thought they did, but I don't have to get tiny to clean them."

Describing it as to 'do the tiny' was pretty accurate and honestly, kind of cute. Scott has no shame; doesn't feel embarrassed whatsoever in calling another grown man cute.

"No, do you?"

Scott closes his eyes as he listens, focusing in on anything that sounds like a hey, don't go that way kind of noise.

Niko shook his head, but was ready to keep moving. During the war he'd been a tracker, but in these settings? Nothing much he could dredge up. He was going off luck.

"But that means you probably got a good idea of how wide these vents are." Niko looked up, shining his pilfered flash light into one.

"And you can check them pretty safe."

"I can try. This space station isn't the same as a ship, but a vent's a vent."

Scott lifts a hand, the same way he'd done before when he'd shrunk down, and looks up at the vent.

"I'll go up and look, if it's big enough and safe enough, we'll go that way."

He hits the button then, shrinking down, and if Niko feels the lightest bit of pressure to the top of his head, that's just Scott using him to get up higher.

Niko tapped the top of his head after the pressure was gone, and squinted up at the vent. "Did you just use me for trampoline?"

But it didn't really matter. He'd succeeded in getting in there.

"You see anything good? Is it safe to come through?"

He sure did buddy, but he was careful not to jump too hard. Scott's faster when he's this small, running far enough into the vents that he can't hear Niko anymore. He goes straight, left, right, back, left, and then he passes a grate with a nice cut-up view of the docking bay.

Scott back tracks as quickly as he can, and when he jumps back out of the vent, he shoots back up to his normal size immediately. He taps his helmet to open it.

"I found us a way back. A man your size can fit, but the last section will be a squeeze. You can do it."

"Glad that I have laid off the fatty foods."

He opened the vent, still baffled by this tiny dude that's in front of him, even that the bottle he gave him seems to have shrank as well.

When did shit this weird start becoming normal?

With a loud hrk noise he hauled himself up into the vent. Crawled after what he hoped was Scott.

Scott stays close enough that Niko can see him, and his helmet allows him to project his voice. So whether or not that the man has him in his sights, he'll still be able to hear his big mouth.

"You're pretty good at this, man."

He's walking backwards now, close to Niko's face, and voice pitched at a level he can hear.

"Better not let the captains know or they might put you up there with me."

"This is definitely one I do not want to add to the odd assortment of jobs I've had." He grunted as he pulled himself along.

"This is not my first time though. In a ventilation system, I mean. But dealing with shitty hordes."

Help with that sort of mess? Always appreciated.

"I don't blame you, man. It gets dusty up here and that's hard to clean off."

Scott keeps moving, leading Niko to where they need to go.

"Have you ever fought anything like that down there? Hell, have you ever seen anything like that down there?"

Yeah. I was on a space station, it seemed to be haunted. There were these things in the stations sewers. Uglier than the ones here. But they were weak to fire.

Seems like these aren't too different.

[He stops to listen, before moving more forward and eyeing a crossroads ahead of them.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( april event log )

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edit for stupid

squiggly frankendemons

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