( 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

[amourtician]

Jay narrows his eyes. What the fuck is going on here, exactly? And apparently the golem can speak even though he just turned into a boat. Okay. That definitely makes sense. Jay shakes his head.

"Protesting what?" he asks, a little more stridently than he meant to.

[knaval]

"I haven't decided yet, but staying in our alt modes when it's inconvenient is a common way for Cybertronians to protest. So that's what I'm doing."

Look at the boat. Sitting there, being all boat-y.

[amourtician]

"Alt ... modes?" Jay says, slowly and then his eyes light up with understanding. "Oh! You're ... you're a perevjortysh! Well, a golem made to be one, but still ... I suppose it makes sense a golem would become some sort of usually inanimate thing rather than a wolf or a bear or what-have-you …"

Satisfied with the explanation that Riptide is a golem wereboat, Jay grins. It's all a lot simpler than he thought!

"You know, protests are more effective when they're directed, darling," he adds, as an afterthought. "Just general protesting mostly gets you arrested for loitering. Or soliciting."

[knaval]

"I dunno what that is, but I'm Cybertronian not a... petridish!"

Riptide, no.

"I think I was annoyed about the AI, or having to be decontaminated. Or just annoyed in general."

[amourtician]

"Perevjortysh," Jay says, sternly. "What's a Cybertronian, then? Is it a make of golem?"

Golems could be factory-made. It makes a sort of sense. They're probably very hard to make. Especially if they can turn into boats.

[knaval]

"I'm not a golem at all!" the boat sputters indignantly.

"I've decided I'm protesting you calling me a golem, now."

[amourtician]

Jay blinks at Riptide. He cocks his head to one side, then the other. He puts his hands on his hips and tries not to look completely and utterly gobsmacked.

"But …" he croaks, after a few moments, his plummy accent suddenly gone, replaced by something harsher and flatter, "what else could you be? You're a construct, walking around like a thing with a soul! That's a golem."

[knaval]

Jay has annoyed Riptide enough to make him transform back into bipedal mode.

"That's obviously something else entirely!" he half-yells, holding his hands up. "You can't tell me you know more about what I am than I do myself!"

[amourtician]

Jay knits his brow. Maybe he should be more alarmed that ten tons of metal is yelling at him over matters of identity and identification, but he's mostly just curious and confused. He steps up closer to Riptide and cranes his neck for a better look at the robot's face.

"So what are you then, darling?" he says. "I'd like a sensible description, please, not meaningless jargon."

[knaval]

"Cybertronian. My name is Riptide."

He huffs.

"Not an AI or anything. We're alive."

[amourtician]

"Ah," says Jay, though he understands nothing. Maybe Riptide is religiously opposed to giving sensible answers? Everything is possible in a multiverse. "And A.I. are not? What metric of 'alive' are you using here, dearest?"

[knaval]

"AI are programmed, duh. Nothing programs us - we're entirely natural."

It's simple to Riptide. He doesn't understand where the confusion could come from.

[amourtician]

"Big metal constructs are natural," Jay remarks, evenly. "I see."

He looks Riptide up and down.

"So does that make AI inferior to you? In your eyes, at least."

[knaval]

"That's kind of an aggressive way to put it, but we're natural! I'm angry because of stuff that happened in my life, not because I was programmed that way!"

A puff escapes his vents.

"Why, do you know an-- oh god, you're not actually AI yourself are you? That would be... hoo, that would be awkward."