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. )

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Arrival
[For a while, she really thinks she’s dead. Why wouldn’t she? She had seen the flash of the saberdart, felt the pinch in her neck, and now she can feel herself being gently pushed to some bigger beyond, outside of her comprehension.

Her thought process goes from, ’Huh, so the Mabari were right about an afterlife,’ to ’Oh fierfek, I’m going to the bad one, aren’t I?’ followed by a brief, somewhat panicked period of trying to remember the specifics about said “bad one” and exactly what she can expect for the rest of well... Eternity.

Whatever she comes up with, it doesn’t match the warm, peaceful room she finds herself in. The captain of a ship approaching her and offering her a job aboard their ship doesn’t quite fit either. By the time she steps out of that glowing room and into the open air of the planet, she’s decided that maybe, just maybe, she isn’t dead.]

Around the City, daytime
[Once she’s decided that she’s (probably) not dead, the next step is to figure out how she’s not dead. She eases into the familiar form of a human female as she thinks on it; still being alive means still having to worry about troublesome things like the fact her Clawdite form is still wanted for heresy, fraud, and murder, after all.

Maybe Jango hadn’t actually killed her? Maybe the saberdart wasn’t loaded with anything lethal, but merely something to make her seem dead, so the Jedi would leave her be. She wants it to be true so badly -- that her friend hadn’t killed her, that he hadn’t ever intended to kill her, and that this is all some misunderstanding that she’ll be laughing about when she finds him again -- but there are still parts of that story that don’t add up. For one, she’s seen him use that same weapon to take out marks before and it had definitely been as lethal as anything. It’s possible he could have replaced the poison with something else before their mission, but for all his secrecy, it still seems like something he would inform her of, especially if it was a failsafe he’d taken for her sake.

Not to mention, whatever he’d put in that saberdart, it shouldn’t have been able to make her grow back the arm the Jedi had cut off. That, above all, is what Zam can’t even begin to try and explain. The only possibility she can think of is that maybe it’s a cybernetic prosthetic. But it would have to be a near-impossibly well-made one for it to fool the body and mind of a shapeshifter.

She’s so caught up in her thoughts, that she doesn’t even notice the person headed in the opposite direction until it’s too late. She crashes right into them, stumbling back a couple of steps from the impact.]

Hey, watch it! [Brusqueness aside, it’s clear she’s a new member of the Moira crew. There’s the MID on her hand for one, and the fact that her armor doesn’t look anything like the clothes of those on Caducus Primary. And, unless your character has recently made a trip to the planet of Zolan, probably not like anything they’ve ever seen either.]

Around the City, night
[Of course she should’ve been suspicious of free accommodations at a kriffing luxury hotel -- nothing that nice ever comes without a catch. The catch comes after she’s turned out the lights in the room and is preparing to go to bed. The only illumination comes from the faint light of the city still streaming in from one of the room’s many glass panes and it is by this light that Zam sees her reflection out of the corner of her eye. Or, a version of it. Because this reflection does not show Zam how she is, alive and healthy in one of the fanciest hotel rooms she’s ever been in; instead, it shows her lying in some filthy Coruscant alleyway, one arm severed below the elbow, expression still and dead.

She whirls around to face the reflection, but just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanishes as soon as she turns her gaze towards it. She stands, scarcely breathing as she stares at the pane of glass, heart pounding against her chest. She couldn’t have died like that, so pathetically and naively, put down by someone she had trusted, like a pawn that had worn out its usefulness. But she had, hadn’t she? She can remember it, no matter how much she tries to convince herself otherwise.

She’s barely even thinking when she lashes out at the glass, only aware of her own anger, at Jango, at herself, at this stupid place for making her see what she didn’t want to. The glass shatters and when Zam pulls her hand back, it’s bleeding, blood dripping onto the glass floor beneath her feet. She takes a few steadying breaths as she looks down at her wounded hand. ’Well,’ she thinks, sardonic even now, ’At least I know it’s not a prosthetic.

She leaves the hotel quietly, set on finding her way to the “Moira” the captain had mentioned. You might see her walking through the city at night, bleeding hand held protectively against her chest. As far as she’s concerned, it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t find the shipyard where the Moira is docked -- there’s no way she’s going back to that hotel.]

Medbay and Moro Deck
[She does eventually find her way back to the Moira, and her first stop is the medbay to take care of her wounded hand. If asked about how it happened, she’ll say it was an accident -- though given the fact that the damage is exclusively to her fist and that there are actually tiny pieces of glass embedded in her skin from hitting it so hard, that seems unlikely. Whatever. Not like she thinks the medics will believe her about deathly visions in a hotel anyways.

After getting her hand taken care of, she makes her way to her quarters on Moro Deck. The plan is to go directly to her room and sleep off the crazy, painful day she’s had, but as she passes the rooms of her new crewmates, a morbid curiosity gets the better of her. She stops by a couple of rooms, easing the door open and peering inside. She glances at the faces of each of the sleepers. Are they dead like she is? And, more importantly, are there any among them that she recognizes?

If you happen to wake up and see someone peering at you from the doorway in the dark, well, sorry. At least whoever it is looks human -- if you ignore the fact that her pupils reflect what little light there is in the room like a cat’s. That’s definitely not a human thing for eyes to do.]

((This is where you comment if you want a certain interaction with Zam that's too minor to warrant its own thread. For example, if you bump into her, apologize, and go on your way, or if you see her wandering around the city at night, but don't speak to her. Feel free to comment either ICly or OOCly!))

Arrival

[First there was the confusion. Even after returning to reality, if that's what it was, his brain still couldn't properly process everything going on. Sure, he was lucid enough to go through the whole physical and contract signing well enough to have some idea of what he was doing, but even the pinch of the MID being integrated to him wasn't enough to fully bring him back to reality.

It had been too much, all at once, being transported from where he was a place he was familiar with, where he had a bond with several of the people in it, and suddenly losing it all and going through a mixture of several other things...

Frankly, being indoors wasn't all that bearable, and as soon as he can, he leaves to the outdoors, even if he's sure it wouldn't help with his confusion much.

Needless to say, it doesn't. The strange place he's in just adds more things to process, more things confusing him... In an attempt to give himself time to breathe and sort his thoughts, he leans against a nearby wall and covers his face with his hands. After a few moments, he slides down until he's crouching, back still pressed against the wall.

His breathing evens out, at least, and his head stops spinning as fast.]

Daytime around the city

[Confusion, once gone, gives place to the most obvious feeling one can get when in a strange place: curiosity. He's curious about a lot of things, first of all how he got here, but he has a feeling that was something he's already been told and missed in his haze. Something to ask again later.

For now, he settles for exploring the city he's in. He'll be honest: it was both a delight to his senses and almost overwhelming. The sheer number sounds and sights, both somehow familiar and completely foreign, not to mention all the sounds that came with it... It was enough to make him a little dizzy at times.

Enough to suddenly stop pretty near the middle of the street, causing someone to bump into his back, which only doesn't make him fall thanks to his reflexes helping him steady his footing. He turns to look at the stranger, looking a bit embarrassed.]

Sorry. Got a little dizzy there.

City; daytime

[Eric was thankful for the time to get off the ship. It wasn't that he felt cooped up in there he just knew that all of it was particularly unnatural... he was a witch after all, a man well in tune with the elements. So to him, the processed air while floating in the dead of space wasn't particularly pleasant.

When he boarded this new planet though, his eyes went wide with wonder, he marvelled at how everything looked alongside the feeling of all things natural. It was different to the cities he was used to; they had tall buildings of course but none of them were quite as beautiful as the fabulous glass creations. He found himself staring upwards for a while, which anyone with a lick of sense knew was a terrible idea.

It wasn't so terrible, of course, until he walked straight into the arms of a stranger, throwing the two of them to the ground when the surprise makes him pitch forward.]

Oh, merde...

City; evening

[By the time evening came around he was just as fascinated about going into the city, it was much the same by night, still beautiful, with panes of glass that seemed to glimmer like stars. What he wanted to do though, was go shopping, after all there were many beautiful things here and the witch figured he might like a reminder from his first attempt at interplanetary travel. Trading, now that was easy, especially when he could create things of his own. He fabricated a beautiful ring for one of those glass blowers, a ring which in place of a gem held a physical square of swirling magic. It didn't take much out of him, but it was deemed a reasonable price for a beautiful creation to own himself. A beautiful sphere that could be lit internally to create rippling patterns.

It was as he left the glass shop, sphere nestled in a bag that he catches a glimpse of a scene in a mirror, it was identifiably himself, if you added around a hundred magically enriched years. An older man with white hair who stood proud in front of a crowd of people- all identifiably members of Eric's coven from the obsidian jewellery they owned. It left him grinning like a mad man as he walked the streets, seemingly smiling at all those he passed.]

Hotel bar; night time

[He'd retired to his hotel in the early evening after perusing the city, thinking he'd be tired. After a short time lying on his bed though he finds himself restless... and, if he was willing to admit it to himself, rather lonely. It was strange, living this new life, knowing that the rest of the crew existed without having had the chance to meet many of them.

Its what drew him out of his room and downstairs to the hotel bar, a drink placed in front of him in the booth he was currently occupying. He finally considered his MID the black cuff that seemed to serve as some kind of communication device. He figured it out with time, at least enough to be able to broadcast a message to his fellow crew members:]

For the attention of my fellow crew members of the Moira. My name is Dr. Eric Dufosset and I seem to have found myself in the bar of the large hotel beside the sculpture ofa happy family.

If anyone would be obliged, I'd happily share a drink with one of you. It might make the adjustment period easier to swallow, having a face to become acquainted with.

I'll be here for a further few hours, mostly because I couldn't sleep. Don't feel pushed into it, if you don't want to. Just know that I am here and eager for company.

Regards,
Dr Eric Dufosset.

[The most formal 'come drink with me' mass text ever to be sent. He's resting a lot on propriety so far, what with how unfamiliar things had become. He'll be back to emotes and drunk texting in no time.]

Edited 2015-11-01 22:44 (UTC)

[That... Was the most formal invitation for a drink he has ever seen. It alone would have been enough to convince Tyler to check it out if he wasn't already looking for some way to start getting acquainted with everyone else on the ship without having to make some introductory post on what seemed to be the place's equivalent to facebook.

He ponders asking how he'd find Eric, but after a moment he decides to just go. The way he figured, a fellow outsider probably wouldn't be too hard to spot.

And after some more time to find the hotel and the bar, he sees that he was right. So, without further ado he sits next to Eric before ordering a drink himself.]

Dr Eric Dufosset, I presume?

[Usually he wouldn't have included the Dr, but... That left an impression, ok?]

City, Daylight

[Loki stands out even here, pale and dressed in his home-garb rather than his uniform; it all looks a little archaic and very green-and-gold amongst all the glass, topped off with the customary horns. He's mostly in the markets, not terribly happy about having to pay for food for the whole ship, and indeed, makes a mental note to ask for donations the next time he thinks about it. On the other hand, it's certainly easier than getting other people to buy things for him, because given the people he seems to end up working with, Hel only knows what they'd come back with.

But he can be found bartering with a number of small shiny things from the previous planet- and if watched closely, he can probably be caught pocketing one or two small shiny things on this planet, by way of some very deft sleight of hand and a lot of distracting the shopkeeper with questions. He might also appreciate a hand carrying some of the heavier food items, even if it doesn't much look like he needs one particularly.]

Outside the City - Day

[Is Loki going to go slum for a little while? Of course he is! He is going to go find the strongest alcohol he can, and barter viciously for it. And then probably drink half of it on the spot, because he can.]

City- Night

[It's all going pretty well, until Loki catches sight of his reflection out of the corner of his eye in one of the statues. The first one is bad enough, sat under a pedestal bloody-mouthed and clutching a helm in a space, he remembers, hidden in the dot of a question mark. But that's done and the past and despite the stab of guilt and his younger self's voice in his head, he turns pale and carries on.

It's the second one that gets him. He stops, wide-eyed and something a little wild in his eyes, watching for a moment as he burns. Literally, in fact, his older self stood cackling above him. It's something he doesn't remember, which should be pretty difficult for someone who hasn't even existed for more than three years, which means- something to come, perhaps. Without even thinking he lashes out, denial and fear, trembling even though he'd deny it, and then stands in the shards of the statue he destroyed.

He is Loki. Destroying things is what he does, isn't it?]

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. )

Edited 2015-11-02 01:04 (UTC)

[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.]

ᄃΛЯGӨ BΛΥ
[ After the disaster of the last trip onto some unknown planet they probably should have skipped out on altogether, Cain's mostly kept to himself. There's no point to being here, and even if their joke of a command has all but sucked his dick into staying, he's not interested in helping them beyond whatever he's "supposed" to do. He's not even a Navigator, and they'd stuck him up in navigation with people that should have been there. It's not really fair. Frankly, Cain's kind of skipped out on those duties too, and he's a little surprised there'd been less reprimand for that than there should have been. At least he had a better routine on the Sleipnir. The Moira, as far as he's concerned, is a cheap imitation.

He probably could have tolerated if they'd given him a working ship.

Cain stands just short of the front of the Reliant, looking up at it with a slight frown. It reminds him of what he had back "home", but he's not sentimental enough to think about it like that. There are only a few things worth missing, maybe a someone, and he snorts at his own thoughts, dismissing them with a wave of his hand before catching hold of the ladder that trails up to the cockpit. Might as well make use of some alone time. Most of the crew had probably abandoned the Moira once they'd gotten into the atmosphere. Except — Cain tilts his head, hanging off one of the rungs with a glare. ]

What're you looking at? [ Well. If they didn't leave, he'd be sure to give them an eyeful. ]

ᄃIƬΥ PЯӨPΣЯ ( ПIGΉƬ )
[ Cain's standing under one of the numerous light fixtures this place seems to have plenty of, looking at the weird shape and wondering what the hell he's even doing here. He hadn't found anything worth trading for in the shops, and most of the people in the place weren't worth the conversation. They didn't know anything--unlike the chick who'd sent that transmission over the MIDs before the ship had gotten into orbit. She'd probably have more answers, but it's unlikely he could find her even if he tried. Tch.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and turns, wandering a few steps before slamming right into someone. There's that underlying aggravation that's sparking in his blood, and he bristles like a cat. ] Watch it! [ Nope. Not even going to say sorry. ]

ЩIᄂDᄃΛЯD
[ Hit me up for whatever thing you might be interested in! Cain's also likely to be found in one of those areas selling weapons and alcohol, probably picking a fight or getting his ass handed to him by an alien. Life's so hard, poor baby. ]

[ It's the firs time Cain's stepped off the Moira - technically the transporter, whatever - since he'd been dropped through that damn portal thing, and frankly, he's not impressed. The colonies have a lot more life than this, though it smells a little better, and he pushes his way through the few people gathered along the streets to get to the end, maybe make a circle and check out some of the shops tucked down another little alleyway. Except he practically slams right into some idiot instead and nearly trips over his own feet. Where had he come from?! ]

What the hell's wrong with you? [ It doesn't even matter he'd apologized. He's walking here. ]

[ Cain's not really looking for alcohol, but the fact that their little setup near the transporters feels more comfortable probably says something about him. Or the people of this planet. (Yeah, he's going with that.) He's good at hiding it though, wandering from each makeshift stall and eyeing whatever they've got for sale. It's how he catches sight of Loki, and Cain feels his mouth pull at the corners, an almost harsh grin as he watches him down whatever it is he's just traded for. ]

If you choke, no one's gonna help you. [ Just, you know, pointing that out. ]

My apologies.

[While David wouldn't say he was completely acclimated, he would say that he was quite close. The only thing holding him back was that he hadn't decided what he wanted to do here. On the Moira, in general, he just wasn't sure what he was doing. What his purpose might be. He had no desire to go home, and he still had questions that needed answered. So he stays. For now.

He grasps their shoulders, steadying them.]

That was my fault. I wasn't paying attention.

[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?

[It's normal, he supposes, to come through the Ingress and be disoriented. An on planet Ingress is no different than the one on the ship in that regard. Crew still come through and feel disconnected.]

You might remember me? I offered you the work contract for the Moira. I'm Thán.

[Thán extends a hand, even though the man is sitting, either to be shaken in greeting or to help him up.]

Are you alright?

[The stowaway.

Perhaps he should stop Loki from the destroying the statue, he doesn't. There's something beautiful about the way he lashes out and destroys what frightens him. Thán can't see what's in the glass, though he has seen his own reflection tonight, so he sympathizes with the reaction.]

They won't like that.

[He's no stickler for rules, but they do need to abide the regulations on this planet at least long enough to get their supplies.]

You won't want to stay here and get caught.

[From across the street at least, it doesn't look like he smashed the statue for fun, though Wanda didn't turn around until she heard it shatter. Is he seeing things, too? She might have done the same thing out of surprise earlier if she hadn't stopped so short someone ran into her.

It doesn't look unsafe to approach, so Wanda does.]

Are you all right?

[His head snaps up and he stares, eyes narrowed and calculating- and old. He assesses the threat, ruthlessly, considering and discarding a thousand ways to silence whoever saw him lose control for a moment.

But he recognises Wanda, at least enough to know attacking is probably a bad idea, and besides- Billy wouldn't like it much if he killed someone. Instead he pulls on a smile, although he just feels tired.]

Perfectly fine. It's hard to injure me, believe me.

City – Day

She's disoriented at first, prowling the streets of the city with the tense wariness of an animal that's just been released back into the wild, waiting for some sign of the bars of its cage. At somewhere around eight feet tall, Jasper stands literally head and shoulders above most of the people thronging around the city, and between that and the feral, out-of-sorts way she carries herself most of them quietly move aside to let her pass – which is fortunate, because she isn't quite looking where she's going, instead studying the faces of passersby intently. Her piercing yellow gaze ends up lingering uncomfortably on anyone who looks even a little different from the majority of the natives, clearly searching for someone or something, and unconcerned about offending anybody in the process.

City – Night

Evening draws in and whatever she was looking for, she still hasn't found it. At least, not until she catches sight of her reflection in a shop window. A second pair of eyes stare back at her alongside her own, from a green-skinned face. Shimmering chains encircle her – their – neck. Jasper's eyes widen, and then with a furious, terrified snarl she summons her helmet and smashes it into the window. Glass shatters around her; an alarm starts to wail. Jasper takes a step back, looking wan and haunted under the visor of her helmet, but the only thing she's staring at is her own hands.

On board the Moira, the following morning

Jasper doesn't sleep, and with the whole of the night to reflect on her situation she's begun to pull herself together. She's still pretty on-edge, but she's no longer spending every second waiting for the other shoe to drop. And despite the relief that comes with realising that she's finally alone, she's not happy with her situation. Once she's finally mentally gotten her bearings, she heads straight for the Moira, although she's gotten turned around enough that it takes a little while for her to make her way there.

Once transported on board, she bustles forward with an authoritative stride despite having literally no idea where she is. She seizes the first person she sees by the shirt or shirt-equivalent, or at least tries to – she might even haul them off the ground to her own eye level in her impatience.

"Who's in charge here?" she demands.

(Feel free to drop me a line if you'd like something else from Jasper – also I'll match tense if you want to tag with brackets instead, it's all cool)

Edited 2015-11-02 15:27 (UTC)

A) Onboard the Moira, near... wherever they go to exit the ship.

If she still had her limb enhancers, Peridot would already be out there.

Sure, the captains say it's safe, but the gem technician is nothing if not cautious about these sort of things. Getting into trouble also hasn't boosted her confidence any, either; Peridot's a good foot shorter than usual without her boots, and not trained in any kind of combat. The indignity of having her equipment stripped from her still stings, and like this, everything's about a million times scarier to this bewildered little alien.

All day she can be found hanging around by the exit, scowling out at what she can see of the planet and trying to decide if she's feeling bold enough to go exploring without any of her advanced equipment available to her. She does have one point of comfort: At least the Captains were good enough to give her a new set of weapons! She has her fancy new silver fork clutched tight in one fist. She can be found, for the whole first day that they are docked, humming and huffing with aggravation in this area.

Note that, at this point, it's very likely that unless you just arrived, this is not the first time that your character has seen how she really looks without her equipment, since she's been getting on without it for almost a week now. But to newcomers? She probably looks like a lost and sulky child.

Heavens help you if you try and treat her like one, though.

[Well, clearly Tyler's luck wasn't so good, given who had bumped into him. He looks at Cain for a moment, thoroughly unimpressed.]

I told you. I got dizzy, stopped to collect myself. That's it.

[He recognizes the voice, he thinks. And someone coming to him might actually be what he needs. It's easier to get your bearing when you're focusing on one thing only and work from there, right?

So, after a nod, he gets his hands off his face and stands up, shaking Tháns hand after.]

Yeah... Yeah, I'll be fine, just... Needed to pull myself together. I'm Tyler.

[He realizes after that Thán probably already knew that from the contract signing, but he doesn't care much. One sided introductions like this never felt too right for him.]

[ He's not that impressed either, but Cain's composure reeks amusement rather than disappointment. He gives this guy a once-over before leaning back. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he looked out of place compared to the people on this planet he'd seen. Then again, nothing was entirely cohesive. So, whatever. ]

This isn't a place to take a break. [ Just a bit of advice (sort of), and he steps past him, purposely knocking into his shoulder. ] Move it. [ He's doing you a favor here. ]

After a few months on the Moira, Miles has become accustomed to expecting the unexpected. Not a difficult adjustment in the long run, although regrettably for him it'd come with a few lessons the hard way. It's been a month and change since his initial injuries on the last planet they visited, but his arm's still in a sling and his cracked ribs still make it a little painful to breathe in deep. At least the broken fingers have healed by now. He's had enough of those kinds of lessons, thank you. Miles isn't going to let that kind of horseshit sneak up on him again.

Until a huge orange hand closes around a fistful of the front of his uniform and jerks him clean off the ground. Miles is so startled that he reflexively kicks his legs out in an attempt to keep walking, and he doesn't manage to close his teeth over an alarmed yelp before it escapes. Miles blinks at Jasper, mouth opening, but at least he manages to bite back the first impudent response that springs to mind.

"You'll want to talk to the captains," he manages, chancing a look down to the floor. That sure is several feet between his feet and the floor. God, the woman looks to be tall as Taura. He pauses and clears his throat, resisting the urge to put his good hand on her arm to give himself a little leverage against gravity, because somehow he doesn't think that'd end well. He already has one broken arm. "I don't mind directing you there, only -- d'you mind putting me down first?"

For someone who hasn't interacted with humans much, Miles isn't really the most representative example. He's smaller than pretty much any human adult at 4'9, though his head looks like it belongs on a man of 6'. The overall look isn't improved by his crooked spine and heavily lined face, although he's attempting to mold his features into something resembling a welcome smile despite a more private inclination to pee himself.

[She recognises Loki - hard not to, he's part of the reason she stays away from volunteering to help in the kitchen itself. She'd have offered to cook her own special snowflake alien food, but somehow she gets the feeling he'd take it as an insult. There's a moment where she considers continuing not to volunteer...

...but no. She's entirely too nice for that. She waits for him to finish engaging the shopkeeper in various questions - and it takes her a long moment to realise she just watched him pilfering from one display while asking about another. Her immediate grimace is hidden behind her mostly-customary mask, although as soon as he turns away and moves closer to her...]

Did you have to do that? [It's entirely rhetorical. Of course he didn't have to do it. But no matter how annoyed or incredulous she happens to sound...she's still making sure it's quiet enough for the shopkeeper not to hear.]

[Tyler can really only let out a small noise of amused bafflement at it. Really? All that for a simple bump? That was too much no matter how you look at it, he's pretty sure of that.

But whatever. It doesn't have anything to do with him, right? If Cain had said that he was doing Tyler a favor there, he'd have had no trouble believing it, really.]

Whatever. [Is all he says, only just above a whisper, as he rolls his eyes. He does start walking, in the same general direction as Cain too, but he tries to leave some distance between the two. If the other man wants go ahead that badly, who's Tyler to stop him.]

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( november intro log )

Zam Wesell

ooc: handwaved interactions

no subject

Eric Dufosset | Original

Hotel bar; night time

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gamora

day!

cain ☆ starfighter ☆ ota

daytime

hell yeah outside the city

Around the city, daytime

city; night

arrival

City- Night

Night

no subject

Jasper

Peridot | OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

ON THE SHIP

how have I not threaded with Loki properly yet - city/day!

no subject