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

"Alright. Just... sit down for a moment." He took his forearm carefully, as if he were handling nitroglycerin, encouraged him towards the office's chair.

Was he sick with whatever was contaminating the station? Hard to say. He pulled off his sunglasses and stuck them into his overcoat pockets, squinting a little with his blue eyes so he could get a firm look at Liquid's face, see what his eyes were doing.

Didn't know if any of the water from here would actually help him. Station was probably contaminated through and through.

He grunted softly, in the back of his throat, and with that same sort of caution he reached out to tip up his chin with his fingers. "How's your vision? Seems like this place could be getting to you." False sense of security. He was so used to Liquid being endlessly boisterous, carrying a tone of underlying aggression and superiority (Miller assumed he had to make up for the comparative disadvantage of his genes some way). Now it looked like he could barely focus.

"I can help you get back to the transport if you need it." The face, the vacancy, brought something out from behind Miller's guarded caution. Something more along the lines of caretaker than soldier. The same man that looked out for his mother, that wanted to look out for Big Boss as he was in that coma. Same man that saw this man roaming around as a twelve year old, instead of the person due to end his life.

Possibly a bad call.

"Right." Sitting down, sure, that sounded alright. Normally he might have ripped his arm out of his grip, but clearly he wasn't in a normal mood at the moment.

He did grit his teeth a bit when Miller touched his chin, but beyond that, he didn't fight at all. Not yet. "It's fine. I'm fine. It's alright." A pretty big indicator that it wasn't fine, he wasn't fine, and it wasn't alright, but like hell he realized it.

And then Miller mentioned getting him back and his eyes widened suddenly.

"No." His voice was firm. "No!" Then he got louder. "I'm not going back!"

It was stupid. There was nothing wrong with the Moira. Besides having his brother and father on it. But he'd even said it was better than being dead if he couldn't have a body, so why did he want to stay here?

D-E-L and the station's occupants were pretty damn convincing, that's why.

He took a deep breath. "No. It's alright. I'll go back on my own." Little too late for that, Liquid.

Instinctively, Miller pulled his hands back at the raise in Liquid's voice. "Probably better to go with someone. You don't want to get stuck here with them, do you?"

But he wondered. Did Liquid? He was misinterpreting the situation, but Liquid hadn't minded his bond with Mantis. Maybe this was the same way? Whichever it was, he wasn't acting normally. Walking out on an enemy, abandoning them to this place... he normally wouldn't be against it. Easy way to get a tactical advantage.

But again, that face, that odd behavior, the desire to be a respectable soldier and not leave men behind. That was winning out.

"I don't think it's a good idea, I'll go with you"

"Stuck?" He looked at him like he barely knew the meaning of the word for a second. "I'm not stuck. I'm fine."

It was damn impossible to convince Miller of that, though, looked like.

"No. I'll be fine by myself. I'll--" Wait. Wasn't he supposed to help people? That's why he came down here, right? To help. Letting Miller leave him wasn't helping. He had to convince people to stay, didn't he? No. No. He didn't. He didn't belong here. He did. "...Sure. Go with me."

He still had that headache, but it was sure to be gone eventually. Just like back in the Middle East. Everything'd be fine.

Fine. Kaz was pretty sure Liquid wasn't. Everything about how he was acting... it was off. He put his sunglasses back on before rising again.

"Alright. The path to the transport is pretty direct." Miller stepped away from the chair, giving Liquid some room to rise. He did hold out his hand. Didn't really expected him to take it. But it was offered anyway.

Edited (too much name repetition bleh) 2016-04-17 06:16 (UTC)

Liquid wasn't fine, no. And a part of him knew this. But this was getting drowned out by the other thoughts, the wrong ones, the right ones, the confusion that told him he was just fine, just fine.

He needed to get out of here. He needed to stay here.

He stared blankly at Miller's hand for a moment, almost reached for it, then gave a bit of a delayed sneer, and got up himself.

"I think I know a better way."

Alright then. He withdrew the hand, but his brow tensed as he watched Liquid's movements.

"Better way? Which better way?"

There was a pretty direct way. Where was it that Eli wanted to go? He was sort of guessing that it wasn't just as simple as pointing out a direction where there are less enemies.

It was maybe a little subtle, but Liquid seemed to be fighting himself every step of the way. Or probably not all that subtle. Not that Liquid noticed.

"The better way. It's better. I'll show you."

He was helping. That's what he'd come here to do, right? Him, Liquid Snake, being helpful. Imagine. He headed out, motioning for Miller to follow, and the second he left the room, he took a step in the exact opposite direction of the exit.

Miller grunted again, another unsure sound. But he followed after Liquid. He thought about Solid, what he would be advising. This was a bad idea. He was sure it was a bad idea. But then again, he was somewhat armed here, better to follow than let Liquid get reigned in.

"What's so special about this way?" he asked as he came along.

Liquid watched to make sure Miller was following him before he continued onward, movements a little slower than normal.

"It's better." He didn't seem to have an answer beyond that, at least not at first.

"That way... it won't get you anywhere. It isn't right. This is the right way. I'm certain." Right, yes, heading deeper into the station was definitely going to get him somewhere.

There was more sound coming from that direction. Pretty obvious this was the wrong way? Paranoia for a moment made him wonder if Liquid just wanted to push him into the things. To get rid of him, steal his brother's teacher before he would have a chance to push him forward.

But Eli was being too distant, his mind obviously drifting. Only now did he seem to be concocting any sort of plan. In a blind, disoriented sort of way. Empty, vacant. Just a goal, and an exhausted part of him fighting that goal. That was what Miller was able to observe on the surface.

"Liquid, wait." Kaz reached after him, slowing down. "Don't do this. They want all of us. You, your brother, your father. They see no difference."

It was the best way to think to appeal to him, hoping it would reach through the fog. "You want to be valued in your own way, right?" Not as a blind part of nothing. How did you break this? He'd seen Ocelot bend, break so many men. Convert them. Nearly impossible to get out of, pass a certain point.

But Miller, certain he couldn't be broken. After the torture, the constant pain, after losing everything. You couldn't break a man lying to himself. Couldn't break a man that was already broken. "Liquid. Listen to me..."

"It's better," he repeated. There wasn't much actual reasoning going into what he was doing right now. His mind felt foggy enough. Like times back then when he really hadn't realized what he was doing, early on.

This time was better, wasn't it? He'd chosen this for himself. No one had sold him out, left him to be taken prisoner and tortured until he started doing what his captors told him. He'd simply come, heard the call. The others hadn't been violent, just brought him far in enough to see reason.

"That doesn't matter. None of it matters here."

So why was Miller trying to talk him out of it? Didn't he see that it'd be better here?

No. It wouldn't be better here. It would be wrong here, Miller was right. Even if it was less violent, even if he hadn't been betrayed by his country, even if he'd come down here of his own free will, this wasn't him.

Never be game over. It's not over yet. Wasn't going along with this giving up? Miller was absolutely right. He'd had to deal with being a flawed clone. With not being able to really be himself. With living in his father's shadow, created to not be able to live up to it. Was he giving up all his efforts just to become part of... whatever this was?

But it wasn't over. He still had more people to help. Starting with Miller.

His face looked more troubled than blank, even as he tried to guide Miller farther into the base. It was clear he didn't fully believe it. It was a lot of trouble trying to fight it, and trying to fight himself trying to fight it. "What?"

"It's not better. It's a lie. You'd just be sharing in their pain."

He didn't know if that was true or not, but he believed it. Their pain, their guilt, their crimes. If anything, it would be an emotional wasteland. No true joy, he couldn't imagine that was possible. It was all lies.

"I was lied to, too, White Mamba." Maybe his old name would reach him. The one he'd first chosen, related to a Snake but wasn't a match exactly for his brother. Why was he even fighting this so hard? Working to save the man who would send an assassin for him, to use his image as a weapon.

Because he just couldn't sit and watch one of Big Boss's sons die. Because Kaz still loved that man, and he resented that he did. Because while Snake had no say in this boy's birth, he shared a face with him. He shared the same look of bitter determination. They were Big Boss's only chance at children. So that's what made the final decision. He'd have to be ready to block if he tried to hit him, but he hoped the action would just jar Liquid back to reality.

"Don't!" Miller lurched forward quick grabbed Eli's arm in a way he'd often done to a Snake. Held it firm. "It matters, you matter. Snap out of it!"

Liquid might have shown the slightest bit of recognition at the use of his old nom de guerre, but it was gone pretty quickly. At least outwardly. Inwardly, the fight still continued, but perhaps he was getting a second wind.

"A lie? No. It's not a lie. There's no pain. There's nothing to worry about. I... I could show you. You just have to follow. You just have to--"

Miller's hand gripped his arm and for a moment he just stared, not moving, not speaking.

"Don't touch me!" he shouted, pulling away. If there wasn't much to his expression before, there certainly was now, rage visibly building as his face twisted into a sneer. There he was.

But only for a moment. Deep breaths. No. No anger here.

Just a hell of a lot of doubt. Not that he wasn't doubting things to begin with. Not that his true beliefs hadn't been trying to break through whatever grip this place had on him.

"It's... it's easier not to fight."

"No! I'm not letting go of you." He pulled the other way, back toward the transports. Still, he didn't expect much good to come of it. He was putting forward the effort anyway.

"This is madness. You don't want to be with these- these things." Miller's voice was getting more firm, more adamant. "They're going to make you a part of them, make you lose yourself!"

Who in their right mind would want to do that?

"Everything is... fine here. Haven't you heard?"

Liquid didn't want to lose himself. Not really. But it was hard to articulate that when every attempt seemed to make him fight against himself.

And he still was having a hard time separating exactly what he wanted and what D-E-L wanted him to want, which made it worse.

But Miller pulling him made him angry. Real angry, not try and drag him back angry. Even if each instance was short-lived... he was still in there. Himself, not whatever the hell this place was trying to make him into. Somewhere.

He'd thank him in the long run, but right now he was just confused

"You're going the wrong way," he said, calmly at first, but the instant of rage returned to his face soon enough. "Get off of me!"

It was a start, right?

"I've heard a lot of bullshit in my day, don't buy this."

His grip remained firm, and Miller dug in his heels to throw his weight back more. Problem was, his prothetics were largely insubstantial. He was already a smaller man than big boss, about thirty pounds lighter. But no arm, no leg. That was another thirty pounds. And Liquid was nearly the same size.

"If you don't come with me I'll start calling you by your real name. You drag me into there with you, they'll have that name. Tell them to shut the hell up..."

He wondered if all that time with Mantis in his head had made this... easier... somehow. Easier for them to seep into the cracks, wreak havoc on his mind. Well. Hard for him to tell. "What if Tretij came here-" he suddenly thought. "What would I tell him? That you let them have you?!"

Liquid hated that Miller had a point. Had plenty of points. That he agreed with him deep down. That he couldn't shake this. That a billion thoughts were swirling around his mind and he couldn't hold onto just one of them to get everything straight.

Maybe that was D-E-L's strategy. Confuse you until you weren't sure what was right anymore.

Maybe once you got brainwashed it'd happen again and again and again if you let it.

Why was he letting it?

At least, confused and angry as he was, he wasn't trying to drag Miller away. Not yet. He yanked his arm away from him as hard as he could, another sneer crossing his face. "You wouldn't bloody dare."

It took a moment for something like the blank expression to overtake him again.

"He's not. He's not here. I'd notice. I'd feel him and I could show him and he'd come with me. We'd be together. But he's not here. We're not. There's nothing to--."

He could just imagine Mantis scolding him about letting strange people into his head. He laughed, in spite of himself. If Mantis was here, he'd probably mentally kick his ass for even entertaining the thought. "...I don't... want this." A pause. "Come on. It's this way."

Despite the arm being ripped from his grasp, he again latched onto his sleeve.

"He's not here, no. But I didn't expect you, I didn't expect Big Boss, or Ocelot. There's no reason he wouldn't come. And what, you would rather be here? Than there for him?"

Whatever was that way Miller wanted no part of. He wondered, vaguely, if his stun weapon could actually take down Liquid too. He'd found it in the guard's office. It was possible. He didn't want to risk a worse reaction than he'd already met with. Not yet.

But he thought it might be necessary.

"Come back to the ship. Come back. Come back. Come back." He repeated, over and over, as if the words would somehow sink in. He lost his grip on his arm and grabbed Eli's hand with both of his instead, one clamped around his wrist and the wrapped around the middle in the way one would grip someone slipping from a cliff face.

Another sneer, another move to pull away. Trying to use his best friend against him, really.

"No! I have to... I have to..."

No he didn't. He had to go back. It wasn't so much that he belonged there, but he didn't belong here either. He knew that. But he kept being drawn to staying here.

Was it the contaminant? Was the AI just that good? Was he just that easily convinced? He couldn't even think on it too hard.

"I want to... go back. I want to stay. No! It... won't bloody let me..." He made a noise of frustration. He knew. Knew he shouldn't be keeping this up. But he couldn't stop.

But, hey, progress, right?

"N-no. Come with me." He said this, but with little conviction, and while he attempted to wiggle out of Kaz's grip, it seemed to be with much less effort.

Take that, D-E-L.

He didn't want to shoot him. No. But maybe he could keep chipping away at him. Maybe it was working.

"And you want a dog too, right? A chance at a real life, for as long as you can have it? Can't have that here. There's a big universe out there. Away from your father, from Cipher. But it's not in here. Think about it. You still want to see it, don't you?"

He was pulling less hard, but he still had a hold on his hand in the same way. With one side, fingers knit around his wrist, the other holding onto his hand in hard grasp.

"I don't want to go into there. I don't want it to know that much about me. Do you want to know that much about me? ...No. No I wouldn't think you'd want to."

Or his brother's, or his father's, but it was Miller that was at risk of being dragged in. And he knew very well that if Liquid put more mind to it, he would be able to.

Again, Miller had a point. There was so much for him back on the ship he'd never be able to do here. Hadn't this been his big second chance? Or, well, third chance, anyway. He was going to get a puppy, and he was sort of making friends, and when he got back home if he didn't die of that whole aging issue he could maybe start right back where he left off.

But with a puppy.

"I don't... I don't want to. Don't want to bloody do this. But I can't..." Another frustrated noise, another halfhearted attempt to shake himself away. "You understand, don't you? It won't..."

He couldn't stand times like these, times when he felt vulnerable, at another's mercy. He was supposed to be strong, dammit. He was the flaw, the garbage copy, always trying to find his own place in the world, and he couldn't afford to be weak. And here he was, doing things not of his own free will but of that of that AI.

He let out a sort of strangled noise like he was trying to say two different things at once.

As much as he appreciated Miller's help, he wished no one else could be here to see him like this.

"Get me out of here." It seemed to take all his strength to say that so firmly, and the second he did, his expression blanked again. "Let go. We have to keep going."

"Alright, alright. I'm going to do like you tell me." That first one. Quickly he jammed the stun weapon against his torso and fired, blindly at the first spot that presented itself. He hoped it worked quick. He did feel a little guilty, though. For all his efforts to talk him out of it, now he was just left with the one option.

"Good. Isn't this easy? It's--"

He hadn't noticed the weapon, too busy doing what he was supposed to do to actually pay attention. If he'd been in his right mind long enough, he'd have noticed.

But he hadn't been, had only returned to reason in short bursts, and he quickly slumped against Miller, out cold.

Well, that was one way to do it.

He was heavy, all sturdy muscle, and when he caught his body he felt a lot like his father, too. He crouched, pulled Liquid's arm, hauled him over his shoulders in a fireman carry.

God he was heavy, and Kaz was so much lighter than he used to be. It would have to be slow going. The crutch? He'd have to come back for it. It was left abandoned in the hallway as he made his way back to the ship. It would have been easier to use the wormhole fulton, but decontamination was still necessary.

His muscles were burning and his artificial limbs were stinging by the time the trip was done, but he felt accomplished. He was exhausted, and he sat Liquid up in a seat on the transport, buckled him in for the moment.

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