thisavrou_log | ( 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

[ This isnt a conversation she wants to have, not when it sparks up parts of her imagination she's told herself never to revisit. For the right person? Padmé all the sudden wants to ask him what that means, if he's insinating something has occurred between them. The way he acts, how much more reserved, is so different than the boy who made it gratuitously obvious that he wanted her in every kind of way possible. Had he just grown up or...

Padmé shook her head, trying to ignore the slope of his bare back as she catches a glimpse of it, taking a moment to pull down her hair as if that somehow would help her retain some moticom of shame. All bit's of fabric are placed on the hazardous material bags and she bites her lip, looking everywhere but Anakin's backside. ]

They could hurry this up a bit!

[It's a slip he shouldn't have made, that longing emerging and creeping out in ways he doesn't even notice when how he feels is so intrinstic. His adoration is like breathing, it's effortless, and in as much, the real effort is to try and hold it back.

And like with every held breath, there's a time when it can no longer be restrained.

Even if his words are not quite as obvious as they'd one been, the effort he takes in keeping his gaze literally anywhere else speaks volumes in its stead. He keeps his back turned, both to preserve Padmé's dignity (he can feel the heat of embarrassment rolling off in waves, and even were the circumstances different between them, the situation at had would still carry that air of public humiliation) and to keep himself from outing himself. Even if that means he's the one facing every other person on this transport.

You can't influence how she feels. That isn't love. It's a mantra repeated in his head until the words start to blur together.]

It could be worse. [He offers the platitude over his shoulder, in an attempt to fill conversational space; true as it might be, he doesn't even feel too convinced. He keeps his gaze focused, if obliquely, on the crewmates filing in around them, their complaints sounding much the same.] We could be stuck with people we know.

[~~Present company excluded, obviously.]~~

[ She laughs at that, backing up as the other people fill the room, glancing over her shoulder at the long lean scape of his back. This wasnt too bad, and she makes the decision to face Anakin's back instead, hiding herself behind him. She hovers just far enough away to not touch him, hands up as she glances up at all the people filling in around them (making a point not to look down of course). ]

That is a relief--

[ Padmé's sentence is cut short as she is bumped by a passing man, and goes face first into Anakin's back, her nose smushing into the groove of his spine and she instinctively grabs at his sides to catch her balance.

Oops. ]

[He bites hard into his lower lip to help distract him from the sudden press of her body up against his, but it doesn't do much other than keeping any unbidden sound from escaping at the sensation of it. It's so comfortable and yet forbidden, and he's never wanted this so much in a context where it's been more inappropriate to think about it at all.

Including all the thoughts of meeting her in the temple, the clandestine meetings in the Senate Building (moreover, secret meetings in the Chancellor's Office of all places). This public affair, catching them between knowing so much and so little all at once, outpaces all of it.

Her fingers dig into his hips as she tries to regain her balance, and Anakin goes rigid. Don't think about it. Tatooine. Sand. Hutts. Sunburns. Hands on my--kriff. He lets out a slow, heavy exhale through clenched teeth. It doesn't help. Long after her fingers are gone, the scorch marks left in their wake still remain.]

You okay back there?

[Suddenly, he doesn't sound as cocksure as he should, more exactly like that teenage padawan with no concept of passionate control. It's unsure, shaky, said to fill space, and far more questioning than he has been in years.]

( april event log )

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WOW THAT ICON

You're welcome you're stuck with it now.