( 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

[earthandpine]

Rosethorn is just barely staying ahead of pursuers, and she stops to fish her air mask off of Calendula. She's having enough trouble breathing that the higher oxygen content is probably worth a second's delay.

Once that's in place, she takes off running again, turning a corner and drawing up short. Rosethorn pulls two seed packets from the pouch at her waist. She throws one in front of her and one behind her, a nudge from her magic coaxing the cotton fabric open in midair. Shuffling footsteps from behind tell her she hasn't succeeded in leaving anyone behind. Now she's trapped, bracketed between two sets of them. She pours power into the seeds, vines sprouting.

"Green Man preserve me," she mutters as she faces the twenty figures lurching toward her.

[hyperkinesia]

It's not the muttered prayer that the Hulk hears; what he does hear, and what he runs towards, is the voices in unison, and the AI's loud persistent droning on that raises louder still than them. He can barely make out what they're saying, but it's infuriating anyway, like the sound of those voices drills into his head, making him even angrier, more desperate to shut them up.

Then, of course, there's Bruce leading him in there, taking the Hulk to where people are, people in danger and needing help. This time, that happens to be Rosethorn. So maybe this wasn't exactly the Green Man she was thinking of, but it's the Green Man she's getting, and frankly she can't have much to complain when he practically crashes through the wall just ahead of her and barrels himself right into one of the groups surrounding her.

Rolling onto his feet and making sure he shakes off and shoves away those few that didn't get crushed, he untangles himself from some of the vines and steps right towards Rosethorn, but instead of slowing down he rushes past her, balancing his arms and swinging his closed fists at the rest of the crowd, sending some of them flying through the air, vines kind of wrecked in the process. (Sorry about that.)

[earthandpine]

Well that wasn't the answer to her prayers that Rosethorn expected, but she'll take it. A soft gasp of surprise is her initial response to the Hulk's arrival, and then she snorts. Her Green Man would have had everyone tied down in a riot of plantlife in no time; he's the deity of wild, chaotic, unrestrained growth, after all. This green man... has a very different approach, but a devastatingly effective one.

Rosethorn doesn't even wince at the twinges of sympathetic pain when the vines are crushed or torn apart. Tangled with them as her magic was, she felt it. It's a kind of pain she's mostly used to, from weeding or pruning in her garden. Just on a somewhat larger scale.

"You have a good sense of timing. Thank you," she calls out dryly, and focuses the few remaining vines on just a few of her attackers, twining them up around their shoulders and pinning them to the wall. She pours as much strength as she can into the plants, hoping they'll hold a little while at least.

[hyperkinesia]

Well, there's something definitely wild, chaotic and unrestrained in the way the Hulk crushes and punches his way through the masses, so there's that. There's just not much in his methods that relate to flora, in fact considering the fuel for his existence is gamma radiation that wouldn't be a very good combination at all.

As it is, the color is about all he shares in common with most plants. He doesn't seem to pay much mind or care to the vines, far from it actually, and once he manages to do away with a large part of the group, he turns to the source of the voice, head snapping almost too abruptly and face tense as he growls a little roughly.

There's something of Bruce in there, and this woman's identity filters through. The monster nods like he recognizes her, then turns back to the few that Rosethorn doesn't manage to trap with her vines, grabbing them and swiftly throwing them across the air, as far down the hallway as he can manage.

The hole he made through the wall is still there, and there doesn't look to be any danger waiting on the other side. He steps back towards it, looking down at the woman again, and shooting her a mangled roar as if he's telling her to step through it so they can get away from here.