( november intro log )

[hownkai]

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. )

Comments

gamora

[gamora]

city; day

( gamora feels ill at ease amongst the glass sculptures, less so because she's found herself transported to a different universe (been there, done that, decided that the corrupted versions of the avengers were flarking bullshit), and more so that the air of fragility the entire planet gives off. not her style. suspicion seems like too much, but considering she's been dragged here against her will (and had something of an argument with her welcoming party who didn't take 'died, and then came back' as an acceptable part of her medical history, among other things) with no way back, suspicion is the last she level towards this place and the people in it.

she keeps her hood up, and only the faint yellow glow of blank eyes from the darkness indicates there's someone with eyes in there at all. the sword on her back remains sheathed for now, however, as she stalks among the light and sculptures, at least until she reaches the market areas with the goods she recognizes.

picking up one of the guns, gamora turns it over in her hands before setting it aside -- focusing on a nice set of knives. ah, yes, this is more like it. hey, it pays to be armed in an odd universe, and gamora's one sword isn't going to cut it when she's trying to make up for the lack of the blade she had since she was young. with a nod to the vendor, gamora tosses one in her hand before whipping around and throwing it, satisfied when it buries itself with a satisfactory thunk into the supports of another stall. )

I've handled worse.

( hopefully there wasn't anyone standing in the way of the knife before she'd thrown it. )

city; night

( suspicion and paranoia were comforting emotions when the place seemed hell-bent on throwing images from her past at her. and never long enough to confirm it -- but she knows what she sees, das't it, and she sees herself. at age two, at age fifteen, with the infinity gem on her forehead, happy. it's enough to drive her mad.

which is possibly why she's found herself the equivalent of alcohol and a bar in hopes that someone will start a fight. and if no one does, well, gamora's more than willing to help throw the first punch. )

day!

[seeingscarlet]

[Not even in the city proper and someone's already (almost) thrown a knife at her. This is off to a great start.

Wanda easily yanks the knife out of the stall with a little help from her powers and strides over to lay it back on the table.]

You should be more careful with that.

[She doesn't make eye contact , so it's not clear whether the comment is directed at Gamora or the vendor.]

[gamora]

( the flash of red used to pull the knife out is enough to catch gamora's attention, although the blankness of her eyes makes it difficult to tell just what she's focusing on. the slight narrowing of her eyes is enough, though. )

You're still alive, aren't you?

( so she was careful enough. )

[seeingscarlet]

[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.

[gamora]

You know someone idiotic enough to toss knives around without knowing what they're doing? Surprised you're still alive, in that case. ( she shrugs one shoulder. ) Maybe shoddy workmanship means they can't afford one.

( gamora's not going to be trading for anything less than top line, that's for sure. )

[seeingscarlet]

No, but...that does sound like something Stark might do.

[Wanda eyes the knife again and shrugs. It's sound enough for her, but then again, she isn't the one chucking it at people.]

You won't find anything better on the ship.

city; night

[commontype]

[Eggsy's good at reading people, usually, but he finds it a little harder to do that in outer fucking space. Everyone's different. Not just skin color or the shapes of their bodies, but their speech patterns and body language. It makes it hard to tell what a person might be thinking or feeling.

But one thing remains the same. People in bars are usually going through something. He can handle that.

He settles on a stool next to a very attractive woman that doesn't look like anybody he's ever seen before. Orders himself a drink.]

So, y'come here often?

[gamora]

( gamora only spares him a glance, blank eyes barely indicating any movement. ugh. it seems like humanity's getting itself all over this galaxy. mantis and drax didn't count in her wide dismissal of the species as a whole -- they hardly resembled terrans. quill was, well, whatever he was, and rider was exceptional. )

Surely a Terran like you can come up with something more creative.

( a generalization -- he might not be from earth, but he looks human enough. gamora feels, if not confident in her guess, then confident she can take his offended response if he isn't. )

[commontype]

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.]

[gamora]

Someone from Earth. ( you do look like whatever one is, eggsy. her prickliness is mollified slightly by his assertion that he's not going to chat her up, although it doesn't really make her any more conversational. ) No. Not from this universe, and it's my first night here.

( ugh. )

[commontype]

Ah, yeah, guess I'm one of 'em then.

[He turns a little, sort of curious, but not sure what's the right questions for these sort of scenarios. Meeting people in space bars.]

Oh, just stoppin' by here on your way through?

all aboard the garbage train

[forwardmomentum]

[ it's hard not to feel a little gunshy after the last time miles went planetside, but miles doesn't really do hesitant. instead this time, he made sure to leave the ship armed to the teeth. nerve disruptor at his right hip, plasma arc at his left. he'd still kill to have a stunner, though. if anything wants to kidnap him and drain his blood like a pig over an altar, he'll give them a hell of a lot more of a fight first.

he stops momentarily to check a message on his MID after it beeped insistently at him a few times, but he's barely had a chance to skim it before a preternatural instinct kicks in, telling him to be still -- and nanoseconds later he feels a rush of hair just over the crown of his head with an accompanying, definitive thunk. miles doesn't move except to roll his eyes upward, trying to catch his breath after that neatly skipped heartbeat. yep, that sure is a knife handle.

miles' eyes track to the woman across the shop -- seems he's been meeting a lot of green ladies lately, although she's a far cry from peridot. tall, dark, and terrifying, check. miles gives her a manic grin, eyes still a little wild, and reaches over his head to tug the knife from the wall support. it takes some effort. ]

Maybe, but if you're going to be hurling these things at people -- I assume people, you don't really look like you throw knives at wall for fun -- might I suggest something with a slightly sturdier handle? [ gingerly holding the blade by its dull edge, he demonstrates by wiggling the handle -- it gives just slightly thanks to the force required to pull it from the wall, just enough to be visible. ] A bit of an embarrassment if the handle comes clean off when you're trying to remove it from some poor sucker's forehead, eh?

[ he politely holds it out to her handle-first lest she like to inspect it for herself. ]

[gamora]

( 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. )

[forwardmomentum]

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.

[gamora]

Isn't everyone. What makes yours worth saving?

( it's not a question she's particularly interested in hearing the answer of, but at his question she grins. oh yes, miles, she has an answer for that. gamora makes to turn away from him. only she doesn't, one hand going up to the hilt of her sword hidden by most of her cape, and with one smooth motion she draws it before burying it in the ground in front of them with a satisfactory thunk. well made but plain, it's clearly a two-handed sword, and seen a decent amount of use. )

I've already got one.

[forwardmomentum]

Nothing more than anyone else's, except that I've still got it on my shoulders.

[ and all things considered, that's fairly impressive. but survival isn't a meritocracy.

miles' brows go up when she draws the sword, and he lets out a low, appreciative whistle, tracking the sword with his eyes until it's stuck in the ground between them. he peers at it with an appraising look. ]

I don't usually see galactics carrying swords, let alone anything this nicely crafted. I'll admit, I'm not much of an expert on heavier weapons like this, though, most of the swords you see on Barrayar are of a rather lighter construction... May I?

[ he glances up at her for her permission. can he look at your sword closer, gamora. can he touch it ]

night

[neveroutwrenched]

[Ratchet’s wasn't in a much better mood when he’d entered the bar. This planet, for all it’s almost comforting similarities to the skyscrapers back home, and it’s almost too accomodating denizens, had a nasty way of reminding you of things. Literally.

He taps a finger against the side of the glass, staring down at the clear liquid, untouched. He’d been trying to clear his mind; get away from the bad memories the sight of his reflection in a dark window had inexplicably brought up, but it wasn’t until it was too late that he’d realised the last time he’d had a drink was that very day he was trying not to think about. Funny how things circled around like that.

He notices Gamora out of the corner of his eye; recognizes that she’s from the Moira. Her atypical appearance is almost give away enough, but the MID on her wrist confirms it.]

You want a drink? I traded and entire diamond for it, I’d hate to see it go to waste.

[Okay, maybe not the best way to start a conversation with a strange woman, but it was too late now.]

[gamora]

Someone ripped you off.

( nothing about ratchet strikes gamora as odd -- in fact, he's the only one that she considers to be normal among all of this. not human, visibly, and on a planet where it feels as if she is surrounded by them someone who doesn't fit into it makes her feel-- not at home, but more at ease.

she takes the drink without further question though -- her body can handle poisons if he'd tampered with it, she's sure. )

[neveroutwrenched]

Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right.

[He says it with the resigned air of someone who's very accustomed to getting ripped off. Just another galaxy.]

But it's pretty hard not to get ripped off when we're not getting paid in anything useful.

[He had to give them something after all.]

[gamora]

Didn't think the contract said we got paid at all. ( which, by the way, is bullshit. ) Just gave us a shitty job and no other options.

[neveroutwrenched]

I don't really remember much of what that contract said, if we're being honest.

[But that seemed to be the way of things, didn't it? Get a contract shoved in your face, make you sign it before you could read the fine print. He shrugs. On the other hand...]

It could be shittier.

city - day

[keelahselai]

[Weapons - finally. This isn't exactly a savoury area - putting it mildly - but Tali's not picky at the moment. She hasn't carried a gun in a while now, and she gravitates straight to the stall as soon as she sees the familiar shapes of the firearms. The hooded figure of the woman there already catches her attention only for as long as it takes to glance curiously at the sword on her back.

She's hefting a shotgun in her hands - a bulky, space-age monstrosity of a thing - and wondering if the trader would let her get a closer look at the innards before trading for it-- when a knife flies past her face a few inches from the visor of her mask. Tali jerks back hard, and even though the shotgun isn't loaded, she instinctively swings it around, shoulder height, towards wherever the weapon came from.]

Hey!

[gamora]

It didn't hit you.

( it's said with a significant amount of derision -- honestly, it's like no one's ever been in a fight.

a quick look at the other makes gamora take that last comment back. well someone has a good response to a dagger flying by their mask. someone not terran, too, which she is quickly learning she'll need to appreciate. sure, the planet's native species isn't human, but she's going to be on a ship with some as far as she can tell. )

[keelahselai]

So throwing knives around is fine if you miss? [Actually, as soon as the words are out of her mouth it occurs to her that if the woman wanted to bury a knife in Tali's head, there probably would be a knife in Tali's head. That's not how you throw a knife if you don't know what you're doing. But still. She wasn't really thinking about her exact wording when she spat the words out.

The gun isn't loaded - there's really no point in aiming it at her except as an angry display. And a for a few more seconds, Tali is fine with that - her heart is pounding in her throat and her breath is coming in short, sharp blasts of air. But then, as she stall owner levels a bemused look at her - ]

Ugh-- [And she lifts the aim upwards and away.]

[gamora]

I don't miss.

( it seems, however, with the other's decision not to continue holding her at gunpoint, that the other woman seems to have realized that as well. )

That's not native tech.

( she says with a chin jerk towards it, an almost curious twist to her lips. no, everything weapons related to buy is clearly imported. it's just a matter of finding out where she got the gun from -- if it's here, gamora thinks she might poke around, just to see what they've got. )