thisavrou_log | ( november intro log )

Entry tags:

( november intro log )

Who: Everyone
When: November 1st and on
Where: The ship and on planet
What: Exploration + new arrivals
Warnings: Please label any warnings you have on your threads

THE INFLUX

"It is not so much about beginnings and endings; it is about muddling through the middle."

The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar.

Welcome to Caducus Primary

Shortly after your arrival, you are met by one of the captains and any of the crew of the Moira who might have accompanied him. You are given a brief physical scan and are asked to sign a contract that states you are now part of the Moira with a specific job. This process consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand with only the slightest pinch. Much like the Moira's own Ingress, C-Primary's Ingress seems to be malfunctioning, and nothing can return through it. If you choose to disregard this offer, you will be detained indefinitely by the natives of Caducus Primary. (Joining the Moira is really the only choice you have.)

DESCENSION

"I am the keeper of fragile things."

From a distance, Caducus Primary doesn't look like much. The weather on the planet is extremely stable, and the vegetation is neat, almost pristine. What stands out about C-Primary, however, is the fact that there are hundreds of VERY TALL buildings packed together in many of the cities. They are elevated about the ground on what appear to be stilts and sway almost gracefully in the gentle breeze that is always present. Their stability never wavers; they don't fall down. The streets are lined with beautiful sculptures that are placed wherever light is needed. Many other designs can be found outside as well as in. This planet is rather wealthy, and the abundance of their natural resources reflect in everything. The world glitters just as glass would in the sunlight.

Native Details
● They have darker skin tones, but their hair styles and colors are all as unique as they can make them. This can be seen as influence from other travelers.
● Friendly, welcoming, and encouraging to the crew to trade with them for what they need.
● There are no visible "poor" areas.
● Calm and organized. If lost or in need of directions, they will offer to take you where you are going.
● Vey strict when it comes to rules. (Trade what you say you're going to trade.)

☄CITY PROPER

There are many things to do once on planet. In the city proper, stepping into one of the multiple shops reveals workers crafting glass figurines, jewelry, cups, and other items to your specifications. Trading is the same as on all other planets—there is no one accepted monetary unit. Yet, any unsavory cargo (such as weapons, explosives, alcohol, and drugs) will not be found anywhere in the vicinity of these areas. Other travelers have set up places outside the cities near transporter zones for these particular necessities. Trade at your discretion. At night, if you catch your reflection in a surface that isn't quite as transparent (on a sculpture, the side of a building, anything made of glass), there will be a momentary glimpse of your past or future self. A blink, and then, it will be gone.

Staying on the Moira isn't required during time spent on Caducus Primary. Visit one of its many fine hotels with its beautiful accomodations. The price is remarkably inexpensive: it's free.

( OOC: For any and all questions and to see new rank privileges, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! Check THIS to see your tag. They have already been added to the comms, but you'll have to tag them onto a post before they show up in the list. )

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Miles is used to the skepticism, albeit from a totally different angle. He keeps up a surprisingly brisk pace for a man so small, although he couldn't match Jasper's stride if he tried. "Me? Well, back home I'm an officer in the Barrayaran Imperial Service. But my current post on the ship," he says, and clears his throat, "is, uh, Beverage Dissemination Officer."

At least it sounds less stupid than ship's bartender, but only by a hair. He'd like a real job now, thanks. He cranes his neck to glance up at Jasper curiously. "And you?"

[That... Makes him furrow his brow. Eric suddenly knowing what he is and the term 'child of the moon' makes him suspect they might actually have a few things in common, but given their situation, he decides to thread lightly to avoid disappointment.]

Are you... Are you a witch then?

( she doesn't do approval without exceptional and extraordinary cause, but there's a dim flicker of something that isn't overwhelming disdain across her face when he approaches her. acceptance, maybe, which doesn't vanish completely as she deftly plucks the knife from his grip. gamora likes people with an eye for weaponry, even more if they're smart and don't beat about the bush with what one does with sharp, pointy objects.

her cursory glance of him takes a split second longer as well, eyes drifting to the weapons on his hip before going back to his face -- blank eyes making the movements of her gaze difficult to track. terran? possibly -- for a moment she's reminded of pip: short stature, overlarge head, hard to pin an age to. but he's wearing more clothes than the troll, even that horrid vest he'd worn the last time she'd seen him. a mystery, then, and some long buried part of her brain attempts to wake up at that before she stops it back down viciously.

the handle gives away completely under her own forceful examination, and one corner of her mouth turns upwards into something like a smile but very much not. dropping the now broken knife unceremoniously back on the vendor's display, she plucks a more finely crafted knife from further back. )

And then what's the point of going for a knife rather than a simple decapitation?

( she misses her proper sword. not the one she has strapped to her back, but the one she'd had since she was a child, refashioned. gamora repeats the gesture with the new knife, but this time she raises a brow ever so slightly in miles' direction. go on, small human. do your thing. )

Exactly, [ miles says, as if this is a perfectly ordinary conversation to have with a total stranger. he grins. ] It's nice to have alternatives, I suppose. Decapitations can be kind of messy -- one can only stand to replace the carpet so many times before it gets tedious.

[ he punctuates this with a dramatic sigh, but then gamora's lifting a new knife and he only has the time to suck in a sharp breath ensure he keeps perfectly still when she hurls it. he lets it out slowly after the thunk sounds above his head -- perhaps a centimeter higher this time -- but he sidesteps away from the wall support before he tugs the knife free, giving gamora an exasperated and strained grin. ]

I'd be happy to keep advising you, madam, but I'd prefer if you picked a target a little farther than my head next time. I'm rather fond of it. [ he examines the knife briefly, balancing it in his hand experimentally before raising an eyebrow up at her. ] If decapitation is more your thing, why not go with something a little bigger than this? As long as you're shopping.

[He wonders if she would react the same to his touch if she knew what he were. Most wouldn't. It doesn't bother him either way, but he is enthralled by the idea of finding out. David slowly drops his hands, considering her questions.]

I came out on the ship, the Moira, and they offered me a work contract then. It's not the same this time, but only in the regard that you came out through this planet's Ingress and they offered you work.

[Similar reasoning, he imagined, that the captain's had for their decision to do this. ]

I believe they mean to increase the crew. So when not enough come out on the ship, they'll search for more on-planet. I could be incorrect.

[ The first thing Clark does, when he has the opportunity late that night, is break off from the rest of the crew and go for a flight. The ship isn't small by any stretch of the imagination, but spending weeks at a time on it can feel a little bit like being trapped in a tin can out in space. He spends hours circling the planet, guided by little more than curiosity.

Caducus Primary is as beautiful by night as it is by day, like most of the planet was made to catch starlight. The city proper, unlike so many others he's passed through, seems to have no darker underbelly. No poverty, homelessness, greed... It's almost ideal. He never thought he'd see anything like it outside of a philosophy textbook. A part of him wonders if it comes from the nature of the planet itself. It's difficult to be cruel in a world made of glass.

Still, even Clark finds it strange.

He's taking a meandering walk through the city by the time he sees another person. The man seems fascinated by some reflection in the glass, and Clark glances over as he passes, curious.

He doesn't see his crewmate, or the standard uniform he's currently wearing; he sees himself in the Kryptonian suit, and Lois' hand pressing against the shield on his chest, her face a mask of concern.

He stops dead in his tracks, but the reflection is already normal again.

He glances around, then approaches the other crew member. It's just the two of them here; he's mostly certain he didn't hallucinate. ]

Did you... See something in the glass just now?

A Hotel, At Night

[ New planet, new can of weird. Beats being cooped up on their flying prison. Fiona's still watching out for anyone who looks like he might be leaving here, but her heart isn't in it anymore. Only so many times you can slam your head into the same wall before you figure there's no breaking through that way. Anyway...

Fancy place they got dumped on this time, just the perfect kinda crowd to line your own pockets with. Fiona's got enough to stay down here a night at least, that's what she figures, until it turns out that she's got more than enough, and that the resident customs are really not sitting well with her. ]

Free? Whaddaya mean, it's free? Is that some kinda local dialect that means "more than you look like you can afford", 'cause I gotta tell ya--

[ She bunches her fist around the money in her pocket. Used to be money in someone else's pocket until this afternoon. She doesn't recognize the currency. ]

You're not-- We're obviously not talkin' free-free, right? The last free I tried was more like "come in and let us harvest your organs" free, so... so spit it out, what's the catch?

The City, The Same Night

[ She's not gonna bite that easy, she's not. There's free stuff, and then there's free stuff that's gonna cost ya, and she's not ready to place a bet on just which of the two she's lookin' at here.

Different place then, or maybe a walk back to the ship after all. She'll see.

First thing she sees though, that's a little girl, out of the corner of her eye. Scrawny thing, not wearing clothes so much as tatters, as some skag's lucky chew blanket. Red down her face from some cut above her eye, and Fiona thinks that's gonna leave a scar. Doesn't fit in here one bit, and when the girl reaches out for her pocket, Fiona turns around...

...and doesn't catch anything but her own reflection, arm stretched out to make a grab for the invisible thief. She frowns, and brushes back her hair with two fingers. ]

...Creepy.

[ Fiona shakes her head, and lets out a slow breath. Starts thinking maybe it's getting too cold to be outdoors... ]

[ Fiona can't exactly talk either, not with just one red streak compared to the locals' double rainbow head salads. She's gonna talk though, 'cause she's been watching long enough to remember that this is one of theirs. ]

Y'know, it's kinda... bold in the opposite direction. [ She taps her chin. ] And how's that one story go again? You can always say it's a special psychic kinda dye only the galaxy's most brilliant minds can see. [ She laughs. ] Watch what kinda looks that gets ya.

I'll just be pleased that I don't have to worry about touching up the roots. [The snake-like patterns on her head and down her back would do fine, she guesses. Castithans require handmaidens to handle that level of care.]

[She slows anyway, to speak with the other crew member. Everyone might be friendly but who knows when they'll turn the switch on the giant mind-control engine and have the citizens attack and attempt to indoctrinate them. And Doc Yewll isn't exactly capable of defending herself.]

How much of a chance have you had to look around?

[He is looking at his hands when Clark speaks, and it jars him out of his thoughts. Where there was blood, it was gone.]

I- Maybe I didn't. [He looks back again. Nope. Just him. And he drags his hand down his face, ruffling the scruff on those hard Slavic angles. It's not baby smooth like he used to keep it, before he figured out it would grow back so quickly it was barely worth the effort.]

Yeah, maybe it is something in the water. I don't know. This is the first place I have worked for where I am pretty sure I cannot always trust my own head. [Or eyes. Or anything else.]

I am guessing you are crew? You don't have a fruit salad for a head, so probably.

What's a Terran?

[Eggsy shrugs, doesn't bother him any, maybe he looks like whatever a Terran is.]

And it weren't a line. I meant it. Like do you literally come here often cause I've never been and I wanted to get a feel for things.

[He didn't think she was a local, but that didn't mean she didn't spend a lot of time here.]

[He dips his head in acknowledgement of that particular statement.]

I am. [Mostly because only their kind were pretentious enough to give everyone strange titles.] Heir to the Dufosset line and High Priest of the coven. It really is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[He didn't know what brought him down here, whether it was just to get some space or because his legs had walked him here. But now that he'd arrived in the cargo bay he fancied taking a look around at the various crafts they had in stock. Mostly because of the fact that he wanted to see if anything was visually as fancy as the X-Jet back home.

It was while he was snooping around that he stumbled across this asshole again, who always seemed to pop up at the wrong time and doubtlessly ended up grating on the mutant's nerves. He rolls his eyes at the question though.]

Ain't sure mate, thought it was a pumped up little bloke really... why, what am I looking at? [At this stage he plucks the crudely rolled cigarette from behind his ear and lights it, head tilted at the other man as if he was genuinely waiting for an answer.]

[ He was going to go with some snide comment about how pumped his face would look after he took his fist to it, but something else catches his attention. Rather than continue his climb into the Reliant, Cain reverses his steps and leaps down with the casual grace of a cat. He eyes him. ]

Well. [ The word is a bit drawn out, trying to keep his composure and not breathe in the smell of the cigarette. ] I was going to jerk off, but I've changed my mind. [ A pause, and Cain's fingers twitch. It's been so fucking long since he's had a smoke... ] You got anymore of those?

[Eric himself had only recently been shoved from the medbay. He felt confused, dizzy, and most importantly of all slightly panicked. He steadied himself momentarily after stepping off the ship before sinking down and sitting on the floor directly at the exit, trying to steady himself mentally rather than simply physically.

The only bad thing is that it made him a perfect tripping point for whoever was about to exit the ship behind him. Sorry, Zam, enjoy flipping over a stranger.]

[Heat rises in Ade's cheeks the moment Cain lets out that particular titbit of information. Because, well, that was just terribly surprising and quite off-putting. He shakes it off quickly though and scowls.]

You what, mate? You were going for a bloody wank? We've got bedrooms, you know? [What a terrible person. Ade sucks on the cigarette and tries not to meet his eyes now.] I do yeah. Quite a few of 'em mate. Surprising what some of them seedy bastards will trade you for a quick bit of dirty work.

On her way onto the ship, she's too focused on the ship itself to notice the people on the dock. On her way out, she's more interested in her surroundings, reveling in the freedom.

The green... thing gets a stare, and once she notices the MID in its hand like her own, marking it as another member of the Moira crew, she comes over to inquire, "What are you? Some kind of midget asari?"

City; day

[Ade didn't know what to think of this city. The buildings were too tall, everything was too clean. It was peaceful, sure, but Ade wasn't a creature inclined to simply roll over and accept peace.

Nothing was ever simple after all. And from what he knew of the world, nothing was peaceful either. The one good thing about it though was that everything was bright and there were a lot of open spaces and that meant one important thing... Ade could get out there and fly. He tugged on the hoodie he'd arrived in, thankful for the way it was tailored to his body. It would serve to give him the best anonymity he could ask for under these conditions, tying the hood tight over his head before he took off and flew around, keeping to the less crowded areas in order to keep his secret safe.

When he finally lands, he does so discretely before walking into the busy streets with a shit-eating grin on his face. For anyone who knew him off the Moira it was a decidedly strange expression; after all... did anyone know of the boy having smiled before?]

City; night

[Ade took a stroll too at night, seeing the city in a new light. He was actually kind of bored, he'd quite enjoyed some of the other planets for their seediness, for the dubious quality they all held. It seemed a bit more normal for the boy who'd spent the time between the Facility and the Institute living on the streets. This place was too clean for all of that and he felt like too much of a disruption if he went out and got wasted.

Instead, he just walked, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He stopped by a fountain, a beautiful glass sculpture made of swirling patterns and he stared at it for a moment, caught off guard by it. Until, of course, those swirling patterns took on instantly recognizable forms. A second ago he'd been staring at his own face, now though, he was staring at an image he'd sooner have forgotten.

It was himself, sure, a few year prior. At the age of sixteen. In a cell. It was one of his earliest memories of the Facility and as such, one of his first torture sessions. He watched as his younger body was repeatedly beaten, crying out for help, crying out for his parents while a doctor stood to one side annotating things on a clipboard.

The mutant didn't have a chance to think before his hands are suddenly free of his pockets. He'd been living so secretly, having hardly touched his powers. But that vision... it woke his rage straight back up and took any impulse he might've had for discretion straight out of his head. He raises his hands with a violent yell, closing his fists. The fountain explodes outwards, crushed explosively beneath the weight of his gravity field, the fragments become a storm blowing towards him, even as some cut into him, leaving bloody grazes on his cheeks and tearing his uniform.

He didn't care though, he'd just needed the image gone... leaving him standing there, breath heaving and unshed tears glistening in his eyes.]

[It's unsettling how he's gone from scary to reminding her a little too much of Pietro. But Wanda falls into step beside him easily nonetheless, kicking one last shard out of the way. No thank you.]

I don't understand how they can live like this. [Is there nothing that haunts them? It's hard not to be jealous.]

[Her gaze flicks back to Gamora. Nothing to see here, just perfectly normal green eyes.]

You didn't miss. But someone else?

[She sighs.] It would have happened sooner or later without an actual target.

Peridot squeaks in surprise, jolting back a step and brandishing her fork on reflex. She hadn't been expecting anyone to talk to her, frankly. Most people have just wandered on by.

There is zero comprehension registered on her face once she gets it together enough to contemplate what was just asked of her, though. "What?" she bites, looking thoroughly confused. "Why are you apologizing for? And what's a midget!?"

[Wanda groans and scoots away from him as she's able, though it seems some part of Eric has landed on one of her jacket's tails. She tugs at it fruitlessly.]

Excuse me. My coat... [She gives it a few more tugs to illustrate the point.]

Are you all right?

[Loki turns quickly to see who's talking, already assessing the threat. But he's spoken to Thán before, and has little idea of what he can do- only that he saw through a suggestion with ease, which means, tentatively, not trying anything he doesn't know he can win.

His expression can be called a smile only by virtue of the way it kind of turns up at the corners. There's little genuine amusement in it.]

They'll like catching me still less.

[But after a moment it eases to something a little more thoughtful.]

I suppose it might be better not to cause excessive trouble just yet, however. Escaping stage left it is, then. Coming?

[He walks backwards in the direction of a narrow street, eyebrow raised at the captain.]

[He smirks back, one eyebrow up.]

I don't choke.

[Gods generally don't succumb to such minor weaknesses as that. Usually.]

And I don't particularly expect help, either. Unless someone wants to help me drink this. It's still not strong enough for my purposes.

Around the City, daytime
[This is definitely not like the missions she’s used to on Pandora. No objectives, no waypoints, just a shove off the ship and some vague instructions to “see what there is to see.” And to restock on supplies, but none of the glass confections the locals are hawking look like they’d serve any purpose on the ship.

So Athena wanders around, clearly at a loss as to what to do with herself without a direct mission. There are no bandits to kill, no corporate rivals to assassinate, not even a simple fetch quest to complete. She’s beginning to feel out of place in her armor. After a couple hours of patrolling around with no action on the horizon, she removes the skull-like helmet from her head.

What’s that phrase? “All dressed up and nowhere to go.”]

Around the City, night
[The sun is going down and she’s on her way to one of the advertised hotels when she sees it -- a flash of red that makes her turn her head towards the side, just in time to see two young girls watching her pass. She only gets a glimpse of them, but it’s impossible to miss those red and black atlas fatigues.

It’s enough to make Athena stop and turn on her heel, eyes snapping to the place she had seen the girls. Of course, there's no one there. She circles around the statue twice, but finds no trace of anyone besides herself. So who -- or what -- had she seen? It had almost looked like… She shakes her head. No, this place is already too absurd to bring ghosts into it. She imagined it, she tells herself. Just an illusion of reflections on the glass.

Except it keeps happening. There’s so much glass in this city, it seems like every few minutes, she’ll see something else reflected in it. A girl with a sword in each hand and a hunted look on her face. A bloodied, grinning woman wearing Jess’s scarf standing amidst a pile of Lanceman bodies. A figure with their face hidden by a shield held before them. Eventually, Athena’s original intention to find a hotel is forgotten, replaced instead by a need to see more. It almost looks as if she’s patrolling the area, walking the same route many times over. Even after one hour becomes two, and then three, she continues her route. You might notice that she never looks at the glass around her head on; only out of the corner of her eye.

Apparently, she isn’t content with the glimpses coming to her -- she’d much rather hunt them herself.]

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Page 3 of 36

( november intro log )

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Fiona

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cargo bay;

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Arrival;

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I'm... so sorry

Adrian 'Force' Clark

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WELL THIS CAN ONLY END BADLY

day!

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Athena