( june event log )

[hownkai]

Who: Everyone
When: June 20th and on
Where: The Moira
What: Something seems to be internally wrong with the ship! Caducus Secondary seeks retribution for its sister Caducus Primary!
Warnings: None for now. Please label your content!

E V E N T

doors to windows "Follow, and the universe will open where there was once walls." With the Collectives now behind them, the atmosphere of the Moira seems to have subsided into the general daily grind of ship living. Shifts pass, meals are served, and the occasional tiff continues to hum in the background. However, whether new or veteran, today is not like any other day the crew have seen or experienced so far. The thrum of the ship is a normal one. Those aboard feel it, know it. In fact, whether you realize it or not, the pulse of the engine, its wings, and that of the Ingress is a constant, consistent buzz in the back of your mind and under your feet. Even during planet excursions, it’s almost like a pull to draw you back to the ship and ground you to the present moment. It’s familiar. It’s late, in the early hours of twilight, that everything begins to feel off. The Moira suddenly begins to drift, tipping gently to one side and resulting in everything on board beginning to roll and tip over. So those in their beds may abruptly find themselves thrown onto the floor. Those walking from a shift back to their rooms or elsewhere on the ship will likely be thrown against a wall. The movement is drastic, but the ship’s systems realign the Moira within several minutes of the event. Anyone near the Ingress room will hear the Captains arguing with one another, and those that go closer will see that Captain Manessah is standing in the middle of a non-functioning Ingress. It’s off, with no swirling light, and they can’t seem to get it to come back on. It’s clear to anyone that comes by that the Captains are worried, bordering on frightened by the fact that it doesn’t seem to want to restart itself—if that was even a possibility of the Ingress at all. They begin to disagree with each other on the best way to fix it, their spoken language changing to something that the MID can’t translate. Captain Thán exits the room in a rush, not stopping to speak to anyone, and the other two continue to try and find a solution to this problem. Not long after, they send out a ship-wide message informing crew that they are relieved of their duties for the rest of the week except for basic cleaning and cooking. Any personnel with experience in technology and matters relating to the Ingress are asked to come to the Ingress room. ☄ Turn It Off, Turn It On Anyone who comes to the Ingress room will be asked to clean, repair, and examine the Ingress. The Captains don’t say why it’s urgent that it be fixed, but it’s obvious that they want it to be done immediately. Crew members can assist one another in taking the coolant systems apart to maintenance them or to suggest ways to fix the machine. After a few hours of steady work, that familiar thrum will be felt under everyone’s feet and the Ingress machine will power back on. However, both the Captains and the crew will notice one startlingly obvious difference: the moving blue light and energy has darkened around the edges. There appears to be a person standing just on either side but can’t come through. The shadow remains there no matter what anyone does, and the colors flicker and alter depending upon which crew member is the closest. And like most things, they always come in pairs. Later that evening, a broadcast is received via Navigation that’s translated across the entirety of the Moira, both over an intercom and over the MID. While it is received as a text, a nondescript voice announces it promptly: Greetings. We are sending this as a formality on behalf of our sister, Caducus Primary and its survivors. In accordance with our beliefs, the travesty that has occurred in the past must be made equal. That equality means lives given for those taken. While terms are unlikely to be made and agreed upon, they will be heard. A decision to flee will be seen as an act of guilt and cowardice. This is the only warning that will be made. You will be given time to prepare for our approach, People of the Vessel Moira. With this message received, Navigation also informs the Captains, who then relay to the crew, that a ship bound from Caducus Secondary are within range and have made it clear they are here to settle a “debt” by attacking. Members of the crew are being divided into randomly assigned teams - which can be found temporarily listed in the MID under the directory - and encouraged to discuss plans to help prevent and preserve the lives of those aboard. Reporting these ideas will be the responsibility of elected team leaders, and a final decision will be made shortly thereafter by the Captains.

Comments

[notglitching]

[No targets. The ticking noise skips a beat, though he's willing to let that yet play out. It's the line after that really catches Rinzler's focus, and the program stills. Higher authority. Was she proposing to take on the admins?

It's possible. In theory. But in Rinzler's experience, threatening system administrators is a quick route to deletion or repurpose, and if these ones have shown almost bizarre leniency for punishing more casual infractions, it's hard to say what repercussions a direct challenge might bring. Rinzler knows he doesn't have the standing or protection of the users here, and if the admins hadn't participated in the earlier effort to recode his unwanted behavior, they certainly hadn't seemed to disapprove.

None of that pertains to the user in front of him, though, and after a pause, Rinzler responds with a slight incline of his mask. Acknowledgement, if not a promise of support.

Hopefully, she'll find out another way.]

[knaval]

bring it on slapscream

[diamondslap]

[aurelia is annoyed miles is her team leader. very annoyed. she should be leader, she has fantastic ideas.

that being said, she also enjoys ruining miles' day, so she sides into a seat next to him at the bar, grinning a predatory cat-like grin.]

I've an idea, darling. You'll love it.

[chipouttaluck]

Probably think of it like evening up the score. One for one, if you're keeping count. [That's what she'd do, anyway.]

Makes as much sense as anything. Gotta do somethin' with this ship once they try and grab it. [Thinking about it.] Unless they're planning on blowing that up, too.

[ersatzeverything]

I mean helping straighten out your-- [He gestures to J's breasts.]

Like, crooked hat, yeah, helping straighten might be polite or an invasion of space depending on the person, but I'm pretty sure there's no way that helping straighten a bra is not an invasion of space.

[Without his sunglasses, his eyes dart around never staying still.]

[ersatzeverything]

"Wow, and people say I'm paranoid."

Deacon stares at the figure in the Ingress again.

"Fuck, you're probably totally right. With our luck, it's going to be aliens fueled by pure evil and blood lust out to kill us all."

[redshitlord]

[That just means he's going to jog to keep up.]

Nothing! I mean. Nothing new. At all.

[thumbsdown]

[He shrugs.]

Yeah, laser rifles were never my thing. Or plasma. Never really liked the way they felt.

[He gets into the lift, fiddling idly with the handle of his machete as it starts to move.]

Seems pretty convenient otherwise, though.

[He would have been sold if not for the whole laser thing. Still, he's come this far without a gun bracelet. He can live without it.]

[lets_see_what_happens]

So, every Council session, then.

[Gregor leans against the bar and shakes his head.]

Mr. Hamilton is doing most of the heavy lifting on that one, surprising absolutely no one at all. I hope the two of you are getting along, because any other option is sort of terrifying to contemplate. [He props his chin in one hand , his eyes on the datapads before they flick up to Miles' face.]

How are you holding up?

[knaval]

Pss. I don't believe that one bit. You haven't been screwing around with all the junk we got? Did you see the poster I put up?

[he doesn't seem to notice or care about sideswipe jogging.]

[redshitlord]

Yeah! I saw it. Did you get it at the last planet or something?

[JOGGIN'. And not talking about what he's been doing, nope. Because he's been asking for help making Riptide feel better, whoops.]

[arcreact]

Yeah, yeah. But a microwave can do that too, y'know. Just saying.

[ He's obligated to fire back. Obligated. ]

[arcreact]

Yeah, no kidding. It's a curse.

[ Tony pockets his wrench and steps away from the Ingress so he can make a sweeping motion to the whole thing. ]

Thing about stuff like this: either you really don't know anything about it, which seems a little outrageous, or you're pretending you don't. Step one is finding out which of those is true. And the way I see it, the most expedient way of finding out is by finding the info itself.

[knaval]

At the Collectives, yeah. I figure it's easier than replacing the wall. Fancier, too.

[IF ONLY HE KNEW...]

Did you get anything other than tat? I got some stuff that might actually be useful, you know.

[skelepun]

Can't argue with your logic. [Sans leans back, tapping his finger bones against his jaw. They click against it audibly.] Sure you're up for getting in the captains bad books so fast?

[He doesn't seem anywhere close to concerned about this, nor does he seem to expect apprehension on Tony's part, but that's all part of the fun, isn't it? His grin would say so, anyway.]

They've got a hold and everything.

[arcreact]

"Fine," he says, way too easily. "I mean, I'm not against staring at you in judging silence, so it works out. We've got plenty of time."

At least nine days, possibly longer. Tony expects he's not the only one who'll be giving Bruce a hard time for this, so he doesn't even have to do all the work. Though he does feel a twinge of guilt at having him locked up here for over a week... Bruce made that bed himself. If he'd just been willing to see reason, this wouldn't even be happening.

Still, it does mean he's totally at the mercy of others for the duration.

"You hungry?"

... He may as well ask. So much for the 'silence' thing. That's just never in the cards with Tony Stark.

[arcreact]

Demanding, aren't we? Already on it.

[ JARVIS pulls up a folder with a series of massive audio files - recordings of what's already been scooped up, presumably. ]

I will have rich text transcriptions within the hour, sir.

[ Tony just gives a brief nod of acknowledgement before glancing at Adrien. ]

That's where good old fashioned data mining comes in.

[redshitlord]

Yeah. Good point.

[Jogging along nbd!]

I uh. Some more music. And uh. That ship in the bottle thing.

[prorenataa]

I can read and listen at the same time. Rub my stomach and chew gum as well.

[ Adrien could read that anvil sized hint that just landed in his lap. ]

JARVIS is there any chance Mr. Stark will relinquish one of these screens to me? If not, can those transcripts go to my MID?

[abide]

[ Instinct tells him to move back, to put distance between them that he had fought so hard to close, but it's a second too slow, the clamp of fingers squeezing into the giving flesh of his throat like a vice. That same instinct tells him to squirm, to bring his elbow down hard on the exposed part of Bucky's forearm, but something deeper stays his movements, his breaths immediately shallow as the fingers curling around Bucky's shoulder dig into flesh. It's a warning, a plea, and he doesn't want to fight him when they haven't had to do something like this for months. Too much peace, too many hours growing soft and remembering why he'd love this person for so long, and there's a quiet grunt, Steve's other hand gripping at the wrist crushing the air out of him. ]

Buck— [ The word is low, sharp but heavy in his attempt to reach him. Those eyes are not the ones he knows, his friend lost in the nightmare he had wanted to comfort away, but he still refuses to hurt him. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how difficult it becomes to draw breath, he isn't going to travel down that road again. ] Bucky. [ Steve chokes, moves just a fraction and gasps hard when the ends of his fingers sink even further forward. ] It's me.

[ Please wake up. ]

[dislocked]

[ It's precious seconds later that he realizes that the person whose throat he's gripping isn't fighting back, and that he's an instant away from crushing his windpipe when he finally registers who it really is.

Steve. He's turning blue, but he still doesn't claw to be free, and it's the helicarrier all over again, when he takes all the violence that Bucky dishes out in his rage and confusion and he feels something splinter in him. Steve, who wouldn't hurt him no matter how dire it is, is betrayed by Bucky's demons and nightmares, his helpless anger.

He releases him immediately, rearing back and pushing as much distance between himself and his best friend -- the one thing that matters the most to him ever since he'd regained what's left of himself. ] Steve, I --

[ He's breathing hard, wide-eyed and panicked. He'd almost tried to kill him again. ]

[abide]

[ Simply hearing his name is relief, the sagging freedom that comes with him pulling his hand away ending in a soft gasp as anything deeper than a shallow breath burns his throat and the already bruising tissue around it. Steve drops back, half standing and half leaning with a knee pressed into the mattress now, and it's all he can do to shake his head, the feel of sweat sticking to the back of his neck and already pricking just a little beneath his collar. ]

It's - [ He can't even swallow without it hurting, but he fights through it, hates the the weird strain in his voice and the way Bucky's looking at him when he manages to lift his head enough to do the same. ] - okay. [ Another breath, this one even softer, and he shifts just an inch closer. Not crowding him, he doesn't want to do that, but to prove that he knows he wouldn't do this on purpose. ] Just an accident.

[ Those few words ache into his chest, but he tries to smile nonetheless. ]

[forwardmomentum]

Hamilton? Oh, yes, I like the man quite a bit. He's got some good ideas.

[ and no one is even the least bit surprised. seriously, no one should leave those two in a room together.

miles rubs at the back of his neck, half-frowning. ]

I'm alright. Eating and sleeping. [ he's hasty to add that. he's not on the verge of collapse, don't worry. he smiles thinly. ] Not that it'll matter if these Caducans blast us right out of the sky. But God knows I've already died once on their behalf, I'm not doing it again.

[ unconsciously, his hand goes to his throat, rubbing where he'd seen those scars, and then he jerks up his collar in that unconscious tic he's had ever since caducus primary. he gnaws at his thumb, brow furrowing. ]

But I'm working on it. I'll figure something out.

[forwardmomentum]

[ when miles lets them in, he's mostly cleared the desk for the coffee clara promised. he only has the one chair, so the bed that folds into the wall is pulled out for extra seating, though miles remains on his feet for now. there's a couple of liquor bottles on the desk against the wall, a deep red wine and a bottle of something bright green. miles waves them inside with a flippant little half-bow, eyeing the coffee. ]

You know, I think providing caffeine in times of trial might qualify you for sainthood. Please, ladies, take a seat where you like.

[forwardmomentum]

[ god, that's unnerving. miles's expression stays dry. ]

By all means, elaborate.