thisavrou_log | ( august intro log )

Entry tags:

( august intro log )

Who: Everyone
When: August 1st and on
Where: The Moira
What: New “guests” join the crew on their journey and implement some changes.
Warnings: None for now. Please label your content!

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old but unfamiliar faces
"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once."

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. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay.

Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. Any questions you might have would be answered in a straightforward manner as well as an explanation about how the Ingress, the thing that has pulled you onto the Moira, is broken and bringing people here unintentionally. This process also 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 or wrist with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters.

At first, this month seems no more unusual than the previous one for those who have been aboard the Moira for any amount of time. The crew who had landed on the slaver outpost were rescued, and with everyone aboard, the ship has pushed forward into the darker parts of the Runoff. Anyone arriving through the Ingress follows the same routine—moving from the Ingress room into the Medbay for their physical and contract before being assisted by seasoned crew members and helped to their assigned decks. But all familiar things must eventually come to an end: two final travelers come through the Ingress. The first, and most noticeable difference between them and all the others, is their clothing. Both are dressed in standard Moira uniforms, though they bear the insignia of one sharing the same rank as Captains Cúrre and Thán. After a moment to take in all the people on the platform ahead of them, one of the two latest arrivals approaches one of the Ingress panels and begins to manipulate the controls. The Ingress completely shuts down. Unlike before, however, there isn’t an imbalance felt across the ship; everything remains normal and stable.

Utilizing the computer systems located in the Ingress room, they send out the following message to the crew via the MID:
To all those aboard this vessel: I am Ira Phirun, assigned captain of the Moira. First Mate Egan and I will be commandeering all rights to the ship as soon as word is sent to those currently in charge. Expect a more detailed report as soon as all records and logs in Navigation have been reviewed by myself and the First Mate. All questions will be answered in a timely matter. For now, there will be no interruption of daily routine or reprimand if conduct among ranks is broken. Thanks for your time.

Heading to Navigation, the Captain and First Mate, for seemingly unknown reasons, approach Navigator Manasseh and have her show them all records and logs of the Moira. Those working in Navigation when the Captain and First Mate arrive will see Mana greet them in a professional manner. Oddly, the Captain and First Mate act very familiar with the Navigator. They review all documents, but when they come upon news that the Ploiatos is on board, their mostly friendly demeanor shifts quickly. The Captain issues a sharp order, unintelligible to those who are close enough to overhear parts of their conversation, and without any warning at all, Mana loses consciousness and collapses right there on the bridge. Within minutes of this happening, the ship as a whole falls into a low power state with basic functions only. Mana’s MID alerts Medbay, and without hesitation, Captain Cúrre places her in cryo with strict orders to those who work there not to disturb the unit.

As promised, the Captain and First Mate soon address the crew.

☄ lights down low

The lighting has dimmed in all the rooms and halls, the normally crisp air that is pumped from the vents low, and all machines and tech are running at half-speed. These effects can be found throughout the ship. Water in the showers remain hot for only a few minutes before reverting to cold. Recreational equipment powers off not long after it has been turned on. The sanitation and water filtration systems require an hourly manual reboot, and all unused areas of the ship have no power allotted to them until a crew member steps inside. Even then, most functions are not optimal. It’s as if the Moira has been transformed into a dark house with only a candle flickering on the window sill.

☄ reuse & recycle

The Captain and First Mate are quick to establish that this is a new regime and go about making the ship and its crew more efficient in the wake of their change in course and the low power state of the ship itself. This means they will systematically inspect each occupied barracks room and leave notes for what needs to be disposed of or stowed away. Unlike before, this is no longer a pleasure cruise, and each member of the crew is a guest on board; they will not tolerate useless clutter. Anything seen as unnecessary will be either placed into storage in the Cargo Bay or disposed of through the airlock. This new need for efficiency also extends to the need to conserve resources until they reach their destination. The showers are set to an automatic timer to minimize water waste. Those few minutes of hot water are all a crew member is now given. Meals are smaller, bordering on ration sizes, and luxuries are done away with entirely in order to preserve supplies so that the ship can go longer before needing to dock at a planet.

☄ new jobs, same faces

The Captain and his First Mate, as expressed in their addressing of the Moira, explain that work efficiency is a priority. Applications for a head of the following departments will be accepted for a short period: Navigation, the Tower, Medbay, Defense, the Hold, Sanitation, Ingress work, and the Galley/Mess Hall. (Here.) After reviewing what they receive, one head of department will be chosen and tasked with helping crew find positions relevant to those departments and their own skillsets. They will be allowed to retain any positions that they held before that aren’t ship-functional jobs, but they will have to be done in leisure time. In two weeks time, they’ll be accepting department position applications which will be approved, and all those that do not apply will be assigned in accordance with their initial work application. They will also choose three individuals to act as guards of Ploiatos to ensure that there is a rotation available at all times. Will you choose to follow this new decision and promote yourself into a position of responsibility? Or will you simply wait for a reassignment?

( ooc; For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )

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Well, the first lesson is you'll have to get a little more specific about your celestial bodies. There's a lot of moons out there.

[Jaina's not too worried about his grip anyway. That enthusiasm of Reinhardt's is infectious, not the least because Jaina is eager to start a new adventure, to explore a ship that's not built like anything she's seen in her own galaxy.]

We'll have to see if we can get hold of a shuttle, get you your first time on another world.

[76 catches the recognition on McCree's face and instantly thinks it's the kind of realization he can't afford anyone to have. He has to remind himself that he's internationally wanted, and McCree lives the same kind of fugitive lifestyle. It's not out of the question that he watches the news.

But fighting down those kinds of paranoid thoughts is difficult, especially when he doesn't even know where he is. 76's forearm stays in place, but he manages to keep himself from pressing in further. On some level, he recognizes that he's choking the air out of McCree. He can hear it in his voice.

76 realizes all at once that he's still angry about Jesse's disappearance so many years ago. He's since come up with a variety of explanations, figuring he'd never be able to ask him outright, but the fact of the matter is when McCree ran off...that's when Jack realized that things were more wrong than he originally thought.]

Could say the same thing about you.

[Oh. Well. That was easy, unless this AI is programmed with the ability to lie, or something. 76 still isn't sure what to think of it, but now that he's thought of a potential use, he's going to try and work with what he's given.]

Appreciate it.

[Even if he feels a little weird talking this way to a computer.]

Not looking to cause trouble. [Just in case it has any qualms.] Just want to cover my bases.

It might speak to the growth of Han Solo in Jaina's time that she never questions why he hasn't simply hopped in the Falcon and flown away from this ship. Instead, she's trying to picture the old bucket of bolts being delivered like it were any sort of mail.

"I'm glad Dad's here. Hey, if Chewie's not along, I'd be glad to co-pilot for him."

There's a little bit of fishing in that offer. Jaina's had the opportunity to work the controls before, and she's honorary captain of her friend's shuttle. But it's a special treat when your parent lets you get behind the wheel of their prize ship.

You say that now.

[ Endless, no, but seemingly endless? Yeah, sometimes. Space has a way of being disorienting and same-y after long enough. Despite his words, though, Tony is navigating through the halls with fairly practiced ease.

He's also going in the complete opposite direction of the instructions he originally gave.

Ah, well. ]

[L watches the woman quietly, from a relative distance, as she looks out at the vast, cold darkness around them. Her appearance is interesting, but the fact that she looks Afro-Asian doesn't mean that she is: he's had to come to terms with the fact that in this situation, the basis for his inferences related to the background of anyone he might meet is not sufficiently broad.

She seems wiry, and her hair is cropped short... she's in her stocking feet, which is something she should probably remedy as soon as she can. Even L wears shoes outside of his room and the Lounge.

Before he can approach her, she fumbles with the MID, then begins to slam it against the wall. It's clear that she's frustrated, and extremely likely that the situation is new to her... or maybe she's been on a ship before and had as bad a time as he did.

He moves closer, stopping about eight feet away, arms crossed and head cocked, and he speaks mildly.]

I wouldn't do that to the MID if I were you.

Edited 2016-08-07 05:59 (UTC)

"Take the crisis in hand." Andyr repeats, slowly, like there's something funny about it, chuckling a bit to himself as he scratches a thumb nail along the table top between them, a small indention beginning to carve. There's anger there, boiling up, and entirely apparent in how he speaks, the way his expressions shift, the hold of his posture. Despite how his tone doesn't raise at all, and words remain even and measured, everything about him screams it. Anger, bitterness, and something much more vicious binding them up together. "Well, Mother Nature gave some of the new generation a gene to fix it. And what our great governments did was commercialize it."

There's a smile flashed, but not a kind one, and he's almost whispering it here, like it's some kind of secret, almost comical in the play of it. There isn't much of innocent wonder left in him, and hadn't taken much to wash over it.

"So, if you've got the cash, now, you can sap the health out of the Mice they keep in corporate labs, all carved open and stuffed with needles day in and day out, or maybe get yourself a clone to transfer your memories into, and live forever." It isn't difficult to imagine why this is so personal to him, and Andyr's never been subtle about anything, least of all this. "We've even got some that farm extra organs. Just snip one out and send it to someone with a fat wallet. Or, you know, a cannibal."

A tremor goes through his jaw, something hateful in the last sentiment. "That's how our government took the crisis in hand."

[ Venom hasn't exactly been briefed on the goings-on in his future yet, but somehow he feels like his role in it is going to be irrelevant at worst, insignificant at best. Which isn't to say that he'll use that as an excuse to deviate, no— much like David, he has a mission to get back to, a purpose to fulfill. No amount of perspective will eliminate his need to play his part, futile or not.

Call it his programming, call it his loyalty. Call it foolish, really: he can tell from 'Solid Snake's' tone that he doesn't harbor much love for the man who started their dubious legacy. ]

Liquid. [ He rolls that over in his mind, before he settles on a more familiar denotation. ] —Eli.

[ Right, that damaged boy who'd sooner watch the world burn than participate in it. Venom's expression turns a touch more conflicted, edges hardening until they deem it fine to smooth out again. ]

...Can't say that I did much in the way of giving 'Liquid' a way out. [ He breathes quietly, a self-deprecating half-exhale that may or may not get lost in the rustle of his fatigues as he shifts his weight. ] Same goes for you, I'm guessing.

[ 'Big head of his', huh? ]

Everybody's a critic. I need more ammunition before I can come up with something better.

[ Tony crosses his arms, giving the kid an assessing look. It's not like he can't relate or sympathize. If it weren't for his own work, he'd probably have climbed the walls and chewed his way into the cold vacuum or space by now. ]

Yeah, believe it or not, I've noticed. I'll sign the thing, I just don't admire what the rung of that particular ladder must look like.

Or smells like.

[Yeah, you know, just a quick poolside read.]

[Nonetheless, Komaeda looks impressed.] You certainly seem to be taking your work seriously! That's... not exactly entry-level material, you know.

[Yeah, he may or may not have done some research of his own a few months ago. When certain medical issues arose and he decided he should really get a better idea of what's going on inside the rest of his body.]

[Usually it's not his kind of thing to walk amongst the newcomers or be on the same level as them- most times, Arno stays above on a ledge, watching and seeing who all comes and goes. He's been called at a few times now, so he figures it would make sense to simply be around, just in case something of great interest, or a certain person he knows, comes through.

What he isn't expecting is to be swung at. So when 76 aims to hit him, Arno suddenly reacts- ducking underneath and whirling, feet spread apart as his arms pan outwards for balance; a stance that shows that he can either run or fight, depending on the enemy and the situation. But rather that try to come close again, the Frenchman pulls out of it, hands raising and stepping back in an effort to show that he means no harm.]

Mercy, monsieur. [Hands splayed outwards with his palms facing towards 76 in a "stop" gesture.] I don't mean you any harm. No one here does.

[He's just hoping the other man doesn't decide that conversation is pointless and tries to maul him again. That would really suck.]

[ ah.

he'd known something was up with adrien, had recognized the same hollowed look people like him tend to get, but everyone has their issues, right? who isn't fucked in the head anymore? maybe it was part of what he'd liked about him, but andyr hadn't expected it to come out so transparently.

with a slowly blink, andyr raises his head from the MID, and looks over to him, now saying anything of yet, just tilting a bit as he looks him over.

he knows that kind of busy energy. has it in him every day. no soft sentiments or counseling makes it go away. not in what he's found, at least.

after a moment of quiet from him, overwritten by the rustling of fabric as Adrien tries to erase what he'd just said, Andyr's sliding carefully off the washing machine, and padding over to stand at his elbow, watching him fold and sort for another moment or so, before reaching out and pushing the laundry to the far side of the table. No. ]

You're taking a break. Come on. [ A hand gripping his bicep gives the man a tug, heading towards the medbay doors. ] Ever try Muay Thai?

[Sounds affirmative enough to Liquid, anyway, and that's all he really needs.

He opens his mouth to speak, then stops for a moment. He better not be missing any more knives. He's definitely got the one he keeps on his person, but maybe he should check on the backups.]

Guess so. See you around sometime, then.

[He gives a nod, turns, and off he goes. But it won't be the last he's seen of him! Probably.]

"You'll have to ask him about that." Leia might not be anyone's mother yet, but she recognizes a dropped hint when she hears it, and her own response comes strangely easily. There's a sort of warmth there, almost teasing. I wonder how different I seem to her. "But introduce yourself first. We didn't come here expecting to meet our children."

And now that she's said that, she'll have to explain it. Jaina's old enough that she might pick up the plural there, or how quickly Leia accepted the fact of being her mother.

Her expression sobers a little; she wonders if she ought to reach out to the girl, set a hand on her shoulder, but she doesn't. "You should know, too--your brother is here."

Damn, but this kind of interaction has always been Tony's least favorite part of the job. Pierce is as good as any other politician he's met, all warm smiles and overly friendly observations. He suspects if he held his hand out for a shake, it would come away with an oil slick on the palm. This thought keeps his hands pocketed, where he would've been obliged to offer it back home. Rank doesn't mean shit here.

Tony just offers a smile of his own, completely insincere. It strains at the edges at the mention of his mother, but he's not giving anybody the satisfaction of letting on to his displeasure.

"I think I'll stand, actually," he returns smoothly. He gestures for Pierce to resume his seat - he should really be careful with those old knees, of course - and genuinely wonders if Pierce will lower himself to Tony, or remain stubbornly standing. It'll be telling either way.

"Adjusting to your downgrade? I can't imagine they have you doing anything nearly as interesting as your work back home."

Catalogue it? [Adam shrugs both shoulders lightly – your guess is as good as mine.] If I'm being honest, I'm kind of making it up as I go along.

[It's his modus operandi far more often than he should probably admit, but it's never failed him yet. So that's gotta count for something.

He sighs.] Not saying it's difficult work– but it's not exactly what I'm good at, either.

[Eh, fair is fair. Certainly the AI's not going out of its way to advertise its higher functions. Really, he's just quietly grateful that it worked.]

<Domesticon industries is the galaxy's number one supplier of household servants. With droids in every major outlet and hundreds of recalibration depots an easy trip from home, we keep your life efficient, so you don't have to be.>

<Please provide your ship's ID and registry for further assistance.>

[Totally bluffing? Totally bluffing. Any ships that visited his facility have been long since scrubbed out of the mainframe's logs. But hey, if he can find out where he's been taken...]

[ It'll always be a point of contention to Venom, the nature of what he's become with the man he wanted to be, still wants to be. The conflict of seeing young people cast themselves like branches in a fire, watching them burn in a furnace of his own creation.

He'd like something better, but better has never been an option. He sometimes closes his eyes and sees that hypocritical angel of a young woman from memories he can't truly recall, sees that brilliant blond hair and her bright, open smile coyly tipped towards him.

('Say peace!')

Andyr's sentiments are as welcome as they are impossible, but his features ebb into something softer, regardless. ]

That's gonna be difficult.

[ And there he goes, back to his short, dry sentences. At once dismissive, but in reality, deeply meant. His brevity doesn't necessarily mean that he doesn't digest every word thrown his way. ] —After all, the vents have eyes.

[ jesus ]

Pierce kept his expression attentive, picking out all the undertones and overtones of this rather interesting young man's tale. No, so very much not like his Winter Soldier, but there was a draw to understand the world that had survived based on an alteration to genetics, though it sounded as corrupt as the world in which he had come from. Only this time organ harvesting came through scientific selection rather than simply buying one from a third world individual with everything to lose. Yet another world where the perceived strong stepped upon the weak and greed overrule basic logic.

There were details in that bitter angry tale that he was far more interested in than others of course. First off, he laced his fingers together and folded them under his chin as he watched Andyr quietly for a few moments, drinking in all the details and making a mental list of what was important once the 'human' element was removed. His expression shifted from curious to having a shake of his head, a low sigh passing through his lips. Sad. Regretful. Suddenly looking too old all over again.

"I see nothing changes, that governments still abuse their power over their population. Will we never learn?" It was a rhetorical question, one that he closed his eyes to as if pained. "I am in no one a scientist, so the history of this new gene... did it actually arise from natural selection or was it manufactured and used in gene therapy in order to preserve what was left of the human race at the time?"

He stared at Andyr's again, keeping a respectful silence for a moment before he said, "this reminds me of a book I read - though probably one of many I'm sure - called Oryx and Crick. Harvesting multiple organs, genetic manipulation for the benefit of the rich, science in a bottle where the rich will thrive and the poor are left behind as broken wasted victims of opportunity. Is that a similar tale?"

From someone hell-bent on taking over the world and 'cleansing' it.

[ Bucky doesn't much like talking about it. It dredges up memories that sometimes don't seem like his own -- but he objectively knows it is; memories that come back to him in disjointed images and flashes of violence. They don't all come in order, but he understands enough of it to piece them together. He deliberately tries not to think too hard about that; Andyr's question is innocuous; he can be forgiven for not knowing the price that was paid.

He deliberately leaves himself out of the narrative, familiar tension coiling in the pit of his stomach. ] Crash-landed his plane into the Atlantic while taking that person down.

[ Even in this death Steve was more noble than he ever could be. He closes his eyes. ] No. [ Steve, asleep in the ice. Bucky was tortured, brainwashed, unmade and remade into something horrific, something that already had its roots in the man that he was before. ] He's a good man. The best out of all of them.

[ Not like him. Not like him at all. But Bucky's made his peace with that. ]

When the offer to sit was declined but instead returned, Alexander lowered himself casually back to his seat without a single air that he was put out by it. He instead folded one knee over the other, resting his hands on them as he watched Tony standing over him. His ego wasn't so easily damaged by a difference in height after all, and if there was something so fragile in Stark, he had no issue allowing it to come to pass. He simply continued to smile.

"Actually, it's quite exciting learning a completely new system," he replied, energy and pleasure warming his voice. It also crinkled the lines at the corner of his eyes. "One must always be willing to learn or face falling behind on the times. Besides, being at the bottom gives one a wonderful view of where they need to climb. A challenge, Mr. Stark, is worth every ounce of effort."

He kept his loose posture, intent and respectful and yet leaving nothing of vulnerability of himself. "They are putting that brilliant mind of yours to work, are they?"

That's what I mean, kid, I--

[Ratchet stops, agitated, his mouth pressing flat for a long moment before he looks up at Drift, his optics hard and intent.]

Every time I looked at you I used to see every single person I knew who might be alive if I hadn't scraped you up and poured you back into your own head in the middle of that gutter in Rodion. After a while--after Delphi--I started seeing every person I knew who might be dead if you hadn't saved me the way you did, if I still had my old hands. The people I watched you save with your own two hands, too.

Now... to be honest, I lost track on both counts, and I think if we continue keeping score like this we'll never be done. I came to get you because I want to look at you and just see... you. I didn't do that before, and I wanted the chance. ...you deserved that much from me.

It's going to take some getting used to--especially since I apparently missed actually, y'know, coming to get you and bringing you home--but I don't want to keep score anymore. Friends help each other, that's all. It's even without having to dig back and count. Simpler.

[ 'Remember'. He seems to deflate somewhat when he's called out on his gap in knowledge, and his shoulders slump just an inch to accompany his emotional downturn. ]

...No. Think I'd remember, if I'd ever been in space.

[ He's an 80s guy, space is still a little bit cool and novel. Just look at Star Wars, for example.

His resignation is tucked in there, somewhere between the almost-inaudible sigh and the gravel tone of his voice. ] Does this happen often?

[Padmé does not know what the future holds here, although she knows that there are hurdles that will need to be jumped over. Their marriage has never been the easiest, but by the code of the Jedi, their marriage should never have existed in the first place. Anakin has never been like other Jedi though. She can recall a time thinking how cold and unemotional they all were, and then there was Anakin. Reckless and temperamental, yes. Even a bit arrogant at times. She has never been blind to his faults, but he is compassionate, loyal, passionate, caring, intelligent...

He is her heart, even as he crushed it.

Yet he doesn't radiate those negative emotions as he had on Mustafar. Such a stark contrast, and yet she knows she will give anything to keep him from that, to keep him from going down the path of darkness here where the sun has not yet set upon their tale.

There is no thought put in to their location, to the public nature of it. He is here. He is, and in this moment, that is all that matters as she keeps those soft noises and lets her fingers rest at the nape of his neck. There is no question of value, because she is, and always has, and always will be, his.

But Leia... No, Padmé will see what can be done there. She has witnessed first hand the turmoil within him, on Tatooine with his mother and on Mustafar with herself. What bleak future does he hold that his own daughter would shun him? She can only begin to imagine, but also knows that they are not the same. That he has not changed, that she does still know him. His mind has not been twisted and turned and corrupted.

Cheek against his cheek, she can feel the kind warmth of his words, and she gives a low hum of acceptance before leaning back slightly. There is a gravity to her face, a seriousness to her words as her eyes catch his, and hold on, as if to burn the very words in to his memory so that he would never forget them.]

And I you. Never forget that, Anakin.

Edited 2016-08-07 03:49 (UTC)

Often enough for me to realize what's happening.

[ She watches him for just a moment, crossing her arms, unconsciously shaking her head. ]

Come on, I'll show you where it is. Might as well jump right in here.

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( august intro log )

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arrival because clearly this will go well

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