thisavrou_log | ( july event log )

Entry tags:

( july event log )

Who: Everyone
When: July 18th and on
Where: Slave trade outpost in the Runoff.
What: The Ingress malfunctions, sending the Moira into a different universe. Some of the crew end up on one of the Runoff’s many slave trading outposts.
Warnings: Sex, murder, kidnapping.

E
V
E
N
T

deep in the murk
"It comes first and follows after. Ends life, kills laughter."

With the outcome of the battle against the Caducans and the Moira having twisted together with their ship to form a strange combination of glass, metal, and organic parts (both across the ship and among the crewmembers), there is still the matter of the Ingress not functioning “properly”. It hasn’t worked correctly since the very first person arrived on the Moira through it, and there is little the Captains themselves know about its functions. However, now, more than before, it’s even worse than that. The Ingress malfunctions yet again. This time, though, it doesn’t simply combine time and space and objects around it—it encompasses the entirety of the ship and sends it far off into a completely different universe. Welcome to:

( click text for a rough map/layout )

This puts the Moira closer to its final destination, and most of the glass has disappeared as the Caducan ship has been left behind aside from small things here and there (i.e., some of the walls in the corridors, random furniture in the rooming decks, the rooms themselves). Even the mess hall has permanently changed. Yet, there is some bad news that comes with this transition. The universe the ship is in is so terrible that it has been given its own name so that travelers avoid it altogether. Even the Captains themselves are aware of just how Bad News this universe is and had originally planned to take “the long way around” to avoid it. Anything shady or unsavory can be found in the Runoff, and while it might not appeal to the majority, it is simply second-nature to those who inhabit it. From arms trafficking to drugs, whatever one might think is illegal somewhere else is suddenly very legal and very dangerous.

Through the transition, some of the crew will accidentally end up on a nearby outpost specifically used for slave trade. It is a covered, temporary establishment used only for this purpose, meaning there are no open markets, hotels, or businesses of any sort. Stalls and tents line dirty streets, and ships litter the space around the outpost. This is a slave trade zone. People come and go but do not stay. Various lifeforms can be found here, and there are many different forms of slave trade happening. The motto “honor among thieves” does not exist in this place either. Crew who end up here will be “free”; however, this means that there is the potential to be taken and sold or kept by those of the Runoff. The Moira will not be close to this outpost, but the signals given from their MIDs will alert the crew to their location. Rescue, obviously, is imminent, but those who choose to help their fellow crewmembers must keep to small stealth missions using transporters or other crafts with one important detail in mind: they cannot bring attention or notice to the Moira itself.

Almost one-third of the crew has found themselves on the slave trade outpost, leaving the rest to plan for rescue. The Captains will immediately divulge all information that they have about the outpost, which is unfortunately very little outside of the stigma associated with the Runoff. The Captains will ask any MID techs or those with skills to create a program that allows person to person location; this function will allow crewmembers to search for those on the outpost via their MIDs. Rescue efforts are encouraged, and all the ships and transporters in the cargo bay will be available for public use. Crew will be told to be careful and quiet, bringing no attention to the Moira’s location, and most importantly, do not stand out. If crew look and act like they don’t belong there, others will notice. Stealth is the name of the game, and blending in is a necessity.

☄ time goes by slowly

The unfortunate crewmembers who ended up on the outpost have now found themselves pursued by those looking to make a profit through slave trade. The standards of hard labor vary from owner to owner, but it is what it sounds like. Rough, hard work that will last as long as the body performing it can endure. If purchased, owners might examine their new property to determine what type of work they’d be best suited for and then split them up into holding areas until they are done with their purchases. Others might have their slaves begin work by cleaning their ship or holding stalls or packing up their tents and gear. The owners, and their needs, are as varied as the universe. Did you manage to escape? Or were you forced to work before you were rescued?

☄ and it seems to last forever

Like the crewmembers taken by general labor owners, the murdersport slavers buy and take whomever they believe can last the longest in the pit. Some take those who appear to be strong or have great stamina, and some take those who are light on their feet or are quick-witted. Some crew are chosen simply based on appearance and how good they’ll look in their gear. If pursued, the slavers will do everything they can to capture the Moirans, and if captured, crew might be taken to a holding stall or a testing pit so that their skills can be witnessed by the public and tested. Some slavers want to show off their new property by throwing them into small roped off areas with other slaves, various creatures, or machines. Some make them stand up in front of groups and simply show them off, boasting that, at the next big event in the Runoff, they’ll surely win the grand prize. What kind of slaver has taken you? Will you be forced to fight before you rescue? Or will you not make it to the Moira before the Ingress pulls you back?

☄ but then it starts to fly ( cw: sex )

As is typical of this universe, slave trade comes in various forms. The most notorious being its illustrious sex trade. Slaves are bought and sold quickly and often, with no notable preference for appearance or species. Buyers come from all over to find slaves to work in their brothels, for personal use, as in-house entertainment, and much more. While the other two most popular type of slave trade don’t care as much about the physical well being of their property, these specific owners usually do. They might try to incapacitate first, so that the slaves aren’t bruised or cut, and if necessary, use binds until they can get them back to their ships or holding stalls. Some owners have their slaves cleaned and dressed in the finest attire, while others shove them into uniforms and tossed into stalls. Were you captured? Did you escape? Or were you rescued before something untoward occurred?

What's more, events of the past always have a way of coming back to haunt you.

Months past, a monster terrorized the crew and left a very literal mark upon those that it touched. Those scarred by encounters with the Ploiatos will find their minds drifting as they work and go about their day. They may also find themselves in a different part of the ship than intended when they come back to themselves. It happens slowly, these small moments of lost time. But both before and after these events occur, one might notice that the scars seem to shift slightly. Where the patterns have been stable for months, suddenly the branching arms of the scars appear to be in a slightly different position than before. More often than not, those who lose time will regain awareness and find themselves in Navigation. When this happens, oftentimes Captain Manasseh will herd them out with a quiet, but undeniably firm, suggestion to visit the infirmary. More unsettling are the moments when they awaken in the I.L.R. standing outside the one door that should never be opened. As for those who were lucky enough to avoid encounters with the creature locked within, they must figure out how to deal with their friends and fellow crew who seem to walk around in a fog with no control of their actions.

( ooc; Please mark all sensitive topics in subject line! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It took awhile to track Liquid down. Longer than Ocelot preferred, but he believed the boy (yes he's still a boy to Ocelot) would be alright. He could take care of himself and knew how to fight, which is a good thing since he ended up in the murdersport business.

Ocelot's actually been watching Liquid longer than Liquid might expect. He even attended a few of Liquid's matches to gain intel on him and the best way to bust him out. For Ocelot, it wasn't about rushing in full of anger or emotion. He was a calculated cat, so to speak, always waiting for the proper moment to leap into action.

That time came before one of Liquid's matches. Ocelot managed to slip into the arena and found his way to where the prisoners were caged. He had to kill a couple of guards, but it's not like they'll be on this planet long once they get all their people back on the Moira.

The sound of jingling spurs announce his arrival as he walks down the corridor, eyeing all of the 'animals' until he stops in front of Liquid's cell.

"Evenin', boss. Can't say I like the accommodations. You ready to get out?"

Liquid certainly had taken care of himself. In the various fights that he'd been a part of just so his new owner could show him off, he'd survived every time. But he'd never noticed Ocelot in the crowd. Never noticed anyone in particular, just the almost perverse sense of accomplishment he got whenever he won and people cheered.

It was nice, being appreciated for the things he did.

Really, though, he'd sort of been giving up on any chance of rescue. Even though he still had his MID, he'd found himself a bit too busy to use it most of the time.

And now here comes an incredibly familiar face, and he's feeling conflicted all of a sudden?

Shaking off those thoughts, he looks at Ocelot, and after a little more time than he should take he offers him a small smile, like he's trying to seem super nonchalant about the whole thing. "About time. I was beginning to think you'd all forgotten about me." At least he's dressed appropriately for battle and not in the getup they'd stuck him in not that long ago.

"Get me out of here before I decide I want to stay for the next fight."

Ocelot shakes his head. "Wouldn't forget about you. People are working on getting all of our people out of here as soon as possible. When it's safe, of course." It's been tricky tracking people down and then figuring out how to escape.

He sure doesn't look like he's in a hurry to let Liquid out of his cell, though. "Actually, I have money on the next fight, so I thought I'd let you get in one last hurrah, so to speak, and bust you out after." Liquid is more than capable of taking care of what's lined up for the next match. "I hear the next one's a brawl. Should be lots of fun."

Seriously? Liquid stares at him for a moment like he can't believe what he said, and then he laughs. "You'd better have that money on me." Leave it to Ocelot to try something like that instead of getting him out right away. He'd be angrier if he wasn't already raring for a fight. He'd been kind of getting used to this.

That should be a scarier thought than it is.

He sighs, stands up, stretches out. He's still in great condition, no injuries beyond some bruises and cuts. "Alright, I suppose I'd better get my frustrations out before I get back. When is the next match, anyway? They wouldn't give us much more than 'when it happens,' which is bloody useless."

"That's the spirit. And my money is on you, of course." He knows Liquid is going to have a really good incentive to win this one. As if losing his life wasn't incentive enough.

"Starts in about twenty minutes, so I better get out of here before they see me lurking around. Should be a good one. A ten man brawl, so watch your back." He wouldn't want to get ganged up on, though Ocelot thinks his boss can handle that, too.

"Ten? Could you make it any easier?" Okay, while he's confident in his own abilities, nine other people isn't actually anything to sneeze at. Still, while he isn't going to play around, he isn't worried either. He'll get a bit of a challenge, take home the win, and get the hell out of here.

Not a bad way to end things here, all things considered.

"If anyone says anything, I'll just tell them you were coming to inspect your bet. Might not work, but it's worth a try." Then he waves him off. "See you after I win the fight, then."

So it's with confidence, about twenty minutes later, that he's escorted to battle... although with a bit of extra security and some surrounding whispers of dead guards. Funny thing, that.

"Good luck." Not that Liquid will need it with all that confidence. He's practically already won from the way he talks.

Ocelot finds a place in the stands to enjoy the battle that's about to take place. An announcer gives the details of the fight. A ten man brawl. No weapons, no rules, every man for himself. The crowd is blood thirsty, waiting for it to start. Knowing that in moments, ten men will create chaos and brutal death before their eyes.

Then the horn is blown and the gates open to release the prisoners. Most run straight for the center to collide in a clash of bodies, but one man hangs back, looking terrified.

"I keep telling you I'm not supposed to be in here! This is a huge mistake! Don't you know who I am?" No one listens to his claims, though. That man is one Liquid knows by now. It's the man who bought him and put Liquid into the fights.

Liquid's used to the no-weapons fights, often a way to weed out those that can't get by without a little assistance. He's never been in one of these so big before, though, and he also hangs back a bit, just to wait for the herd to thin.

Besides, someone seems to be making a fuss. And when he sees who it is, he couldn't look more amused if he tried. And the other fighters are too busy with each other to notice one of the slaveowners is right in the match with them.

Fine. Liquid'll deal with this, then pick up the pieces.

"What's the problem?" he asks as he approaches him, voice far too calm. The sort of calm that really means something.

"Don't tell me you can't even hold your own. Someone so... prestigious should certainly have some combat experience, am I right?"

Oh, this is going to be fun.

The master is still trying to argue with some guards on the other side of the gate, who just continue laughing at him, when Liquid approaches. Knowing the voice, he turns around wide-eyed.

"Good! You'll protect me from these animals." Even the master doesn't sound entirely convinced of that, but he's hoping Liquid will just agree, being his property and all.

"Excuse me?"

He takes a slow step forward. The other slaves are still focused on their brawl. Some have fallen, but very few. Liquid speaks loud enough to be heard by his so-called master, but not much louder than that.

"Protect you? From these 'animals'? But they're just doing what they're told. The same sort of things you've sent me out to do. The same sort of things you've watched me do, praised me for, paraded me about showing me off for. What a convenient time to develop amnesia."

He takes another step, very close to him now. Close enough he can reach out and grab him if he needs to.

"But I'm a good slave, Master. I can help you. I can give you a reminder."

And that's when he straight-up decks him in the face.

The man backs away slowly but is grabbed before he can run.

"This is different! You will do as I say! Do as I comm--"

That's when he's punched in the face. When the crowd sees that they go wild, erupting in roars because another match is starting for them to enjoy. It's the roar of a crowd thirsty for blood. Only one man in the audience does not cheer; he sits back in his chair with a subtle smile on his lips as he watches his boss go to work.

"Do as you say, really? Is that all I'm good for?"

The brawl to the side is still going on, although it's been whittled down to about six people. Two of the others are dead. The one who's left notices the owner here, notices the fight, slowly makes his way over. He gets close to Liquid, but he knocks him to the ground. He wasn't doing so well in the first place; he stays down.

Liquid's attention turns back to his master. "Look what you've made me do. More of a monster than I've ever been, all for the sake of entertainment. Do you enjoy it? I'm sure you're going to love being a part of it."

He leans in close. "Get ready for your closeup."

And then he punches him again, harder, but hopefully not enough to really kill him. Not just yet.

Almost half of the fighters are dead by now and the fight is still going. They don't see the master in the pit as one worth killing right away. The crowds wouldn't find a kill like that as entertaining, but it means something to Liquid.

The man is punched again, this time blood coming from his mouth and his nose. He screams, trying to scramble away from Liquid in desperation.

"You're all savages! Don't act like you didn't enjoy it! I just used your natural talents!"

Liquid should admit to being an animal and learn his place in the world. One to be ruled.

Liquid doesn't chase after him. He merely follows after slowly, easily, like he's not in any particular hurry. Like he's playing with him. Because that's exactly what he's doing.

"Of course I enjoyed it. You wouldn't know this, but I was created for just that. But, you know what? When the fights are over and you remember just what you're doing there, you start to really realize something."

This time, when he catches up at the edge of the pit, he doesn't punch him. He aims a kick at him instead.

"I'm also a big fan of revolution, and for some reason I'm not too keen on being told what to do."

Edited 2016-08-02 13:52 (UTC)

The master is kicked and rolls onto his side, whimpering and begging for mercy. "I'll give you anything you want! Just... get me out of here!"

The number of fighters have dwindled significantly, and with two others remaining, they decide to rush at Liquid instead of each other, providing a momentary distraction away from the master. They charge at Liquid's back, trying to grab at him.

"I know exactly how to get you out of here, don't--"

Liquid's interrupted by the fighters rushing at him, and he clearly isn't too pleased about that. "Excuse me," he says, reaching back and punching the closest one in the face the best he can at an odd angle. "I was trying to do something."

Couldn't they let this wait?

Apparently not, and Liquid finds himself caught up in a fight with the two nonetheless. But he isn't going to let them win, and he isn't going to let them finish his job. He grabs one of them and shoves him towards the other.

The man is grabbed and shoved, but they recover quickly and are after Liquid again. The master sees the opportunity and runs away as far as he can get, but there's no getting out of the arena so it's only a matter of time.

But look! Someone he knows in the front row of the audience! The master waves his hands at the man, trying to get his attention and shout to him.

Liquid supposes he can let his (former, clearly) master do his waving job while he fights off the remaining two. He doubts anyone's going to come to his aid. Not when he's in the pit like this.

"Honestly, you two are making this a bloody hassle," he mutters, punching one in the face, then kicking the other when he comes towards him. Finally, once he gets the chance he grabs both of their heads and bashes them together, letting them fall to the ground. They probably aren't dead, maybe slightly unconscious, but Liquid's got one guy he cares about fighting right now.

And he's coming right up behind him.

The master tries his hardest to get the attention of the other masters, but they don't recognize him dressed as he is and laugh at him. One even throws a fruit at him, which he back peddles away from and into Liquid. The man screams and tries to run again, but his time must be running out. There's only the two of them left standing.

Okay, the fruit thing just about throws Liquid into a fit of laughter, although not enough to distract him from his target.

"What, don't like it? You liked it enough to drag people into it, and now you're changing your tune? Smile for the audience, master, you're famous."

As entertaining as all this is, though, eventually it has to end. Ocelot's got money on him, after all. There's not much space left to run, so the man's easily cornered.

It's so simple for Liquid to snap his neck.

The master struggles but it's futile. In an instant it's over and the crowd are cheering. Well, some are. Others have lost bets and are tearing up the betting slips while calling foul.

Ocelot gets up from his seat and quietly exits the stadium. He's going to collect his winnings and then collect his boss and get out of here.

Liquid can't help but eat up all the attention, looking for all the world like a victorious fighter. Because he is. But he's got to get the hell out of here and find Ocelot before someone realizes he's ownerless.

He takes another few moments to soak in the praise and then he heads back to the holding area, making sure he looks like he's still owned.

He'll have to thank Ocelot for this lovely opportunity.

[ooc: wrap here? XD]

[sounds good to me. thx ocelot you're a real pal]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( july event log )

5

Re: 5

Re: 5

Re: 5

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject