thisavrou_log | ( 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.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After poring through book after book of subject matter he's got only a basic grasp on, Miles has hit the point at which he loses all sense of time entirely. He's tired, but running on all cylinders he can get operating right now, and it takes him a moment before Gregor's voice registers. He looks up, blinking a little owlishly, but he gives Gregor a crooked smile.

"Hello, Gregor." His voice is a little cracked from hours of disuse -- a significant sign of 'totally overdoing it' if there ever was one -- and he clears his throat. His eyes flick down to the food only momentarily, and he raps at the open book with the back of his hand. "I'm glad you're here, actually. I wanted to ask you -- did you take any of the elective science courses when you were at the Academy? I'm afraid I didn't get in much aerospacial physics, or the finer points of wormhole science -- some of this stuff is a little, uh, dense."

Edited 2015-11-15 07:46 (UTC)

Gregor eyes Miles for a long moment, his dark eyes cool, but he knows a losing battle when he sees one. He sighs and plucks the book in front of Miles out from under his nose and closes it, keeping one finger tucked between the pages.

"Why don't I take a look," he says, sliding the plate with the sandwich into the space recently vacated by the book, "and you eat this. In its entirety." Please don't make me damage both our dignities by making that a direct order, goes unsaid but is clearly implied.

Miles frowns when Gregor swipes the book, his mouth opening to protest, but he shuts it with a sigh through his nose, pursing his lips. That doesn't really answer his question, Gregor, he has specific inquiries he'd like to make, but it's close enough for now. He raises his eyebrows slightly, then casts a rather flat look down on his plate, but to his credit, he does pick it up, uncrossing his legs to give his creaky joints a stretch.

"I was going to get lunch when I was done," Miles tells him, lifting one corner of the top of the sandwich and tilting his head to peer at its ingredients. A slice of cheese, some leafy greens, and some kind of cured meat. He wonders if the meat they have on board is vat-grown protein.

"Miles, it is eight o'clock in the evening," Gregor says, but he gamely opens the book and looks down at it, frowning slightly, then keeps Miles' place as he thumbs through to the table of contents.

"When, precisely, did you think getting lunch would be appropriate?"

Miles' eyebrows raise. "Oh." He glances at his MID. "Ah. So it is." How had that happened? No, that's a rhetorical question, he knows how. Or rather, he knows it isn't a new phenomenon, at any rate.

"I figured I'd get hungry at some point," Miles says appeasingly, although he does have a tendency to abandon that sense in his more manic moods. Well, he was hard at work, that ought to count for something. But he really isn't interested in arguing with Gregor -- a futile act, and an attempt he'd rather reserve for something a little more consequential than a sandwich -- so he compliantly takes a few bites of the sandwich, and, totally unsurprisingly, realizes he's starving. He brushes a few crumbs away from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and peers over the edge of the book. "Anything in there you can make sense of?"

"After all the overwhelming prior data you have to indicate otherwise? I'm not surprised you didn't go out of your way to take science courses." Gregor's eyes light a little at Miles before they flick back down to the book in front of him, humming.

"I took a few electives, schedule permitting. What, exactly, are you looking for?"

It's...weird, seeing Gregor like this, so...relaxed. It isn't as though he's any less serious or quiet -- if anything, he's only more so now, where his only real pressing concern is making sure Miles eats at least one meal a day. He'd be shy if he could afford to -- well, I guess he can here. Miles studies him for a moment, thoughtful. It must be a real change of pace for him, living aboard the Moira -- like having nothing more urgent to do than an idle stroll when you've been running a bloody marathon for the last fifteen years. He wonders how Gregor will be when they get back.

"I don't know," Miles admits, gesturing helplessly with his sandwich before he quickly finishes it in a few more bites. He washes it down with the water Gregor had brought him and realizes he's also very thirsty. He pauses that train of thought entirely so he can gulp down the rest of his water, exhaling explosively as he sets the glass down. "Anything related to our situation, I guess," he continues. "I was hoping I could puzzle out what the hell happened. How the Ingress works -- I thought maybe a little background in wormhole science would help us out." He frowns. "I sort of wish my mother were here. This is much more her area of expertise, I think."

"I don't particularly wish your mother was here, but that's not a reflection on my opinion of her expertise," Gregor says, sounding entertained as he thumbs through the rest of the book. "I think I fared a little better with five-space dimensional math than you did, but not by much. I can keep looking, though." He looks up at Miles, only slightly sheepish. "Give me an excuse to leave the room every so often, at least."

Miles cocks an eyebrow at Gregor. "Out of all of us here, I'd think you'd want my mother here the most. But no, I suppose it is better that she isn't here, all things considered." Although he suspects his mother wouldn't feel that way. She'd probably have a field day with this place.

"If you needed more of an excuse to leave the room, might I perhaps suggest the bar? So you can meet people, I mean, rather than a selfish desire to monopolize your company." Miles shrugs. "Though I won't be spending as much time in the bar starting in a week or so, so all the better for you. Get a little socializing in, eh?"

"Mmmm," Gregor says, soft and noncommittal, running his fingers along the edge of the book slowly and thoughtfully. "To be honest, I find myself quite enjoying the novelty of being able to stay in my room for long stretches at a time without being harassed, but I suppose it will wear off eventually.

"Not spending as much time there, though? I thought you were given the bartender job, as well as your, um. Initial duties."

"Ah." Miles brightens considerably, sitting up straighter in his cross-legged position on top of the table before Gregor. Things have been busy enough that he hasn't had much of a chance to tell Ivan and Gregor about his new post. "Waste disposal responsibility was passed on to some other poor soul about a month ago. I'm still at the bar -- part-time only, I'm afraid. You're speaking to the ship's new Personnel Officer."

And first, at that.

"Oh? Personnel Officer?" Gregor's eyebrows climb slowly to his hairline.

"I wasn't aware that was even a post."

"Oh, it wasn't," Miles says cheerfully. "I made it up."

"Of course you did," Gregor says, sounding entertained now. "Does that mean you're out of waste disposal entirely? A pity--you were beginning to accrue quite the array of experience."

( november intro log )

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