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, protocol can only limit so much when you've had thirty years to work around it... but hey! Potential lying or not, he's not opposed to making himself useful here.

The voice warms slightly.]

No problem. Mind if I ask a question?

Deal with surprises for long enough, and the familiar starts to seem suspicious. [His tone's drily humorous enough, but something about the way he had that one ready to go makes it seem less like a joke and more like an anecdote.

But regardless, Adam follows the indicated direction, keeping pace by Thane's side. In motion, that quality in the way he carries himself just standing still is all the more obvious: he moves with the easy assuredness of someone who's had training, and experience on top of that. There's none of the vulnerability he'd shown earlier (however little there'd been, even then) but maybe it's just that he's finally gotten around to hiding it.]

I have to keep reminding myself it's a ship at all. If it weren't for the windows… [The stars are, he has to admit, a very sobering reminder that it's space out there. He shakes his head.]

[The tap startles back a flicker of tense anticipation, but no input comes. No commands. Only a shift of audio, an odd hum. Vocal damage? That might explain the scrape before. It's only after several seconds of tense silence that the AI realizes his mystery operator is waiting for a response.]

...

You can open a comment log. If that's what you're looking for.

[Please let that be what she's looking for.]

[DD nestles in next to Snake's leg, calming down but still thumping his tail happily against the floor.

In thought, Ocelot tilts his head from one side to the other.]

He baked me cookies. Did he tell you that?

[That's probably not the kind of information Snake was looking for. Especially when there are more important things worth mentioning.]

[Now that he's apparently made momentary peace with the AI, 76 will venture back to his bed, sitting on it but not taking his eyes off the terminal.]

Depends on the question.

[That's his way of letting the mainframe know that he reserves the right to not answer if he finds the question objectionable.]

Shoot.

[ He isn't nearly as shy with his affection as he might have otherwise been, most predominately due to his time on the Moira, where he's had to do a lot of thinking without his usual sounding boards.

Reaching out, he pulls her into a casual embrace, one that's filled with all of the memories they've shared together over the years. Even if he's never quite agreed with Anakin's obsession with Amidala, he's gained such a quality friend from all of it that Kenobi feels remiss to avoid making a point of that. ]

You as well. Has Anakin given you a run-down of all that's happened?

[ He doesn't think to ask if she's given him a run-down, because it's clear she's not from the same time as either of them. Without the Force speaking readily in his ear (this mere whisper he hears now is barely helpful) he can only tell she's from the future, and not exactly what that entails, beyond the obvious. ]

[It will never be something that Padmé could hold against her. How could she? She wasn't there to raise her, and how could one call someone mother who one didn't even know?]

Bail- [Given Padmé's response, it hadn't been something that she had planned. No, it had always been her intention to raise her child- children- once born, but what she had planned and what the reality was were two completely different paths.]

He- he was a very close friend of mine. We worked together on the Senate and I respected him greatly. It- he was always kind and wise. Breha too.

[And oh. Oh. She swallows softly. Padmé had tried to shield Bail from any backlash, which is why she had not had him sign his name. Given everything that happened, it likely was a good thing that she didn't know, although a part of that does break her heart. Yet she cannot be selfish over that, she scolds herself, knowing that the sun had set and darkness is now spreading across the galaxy. Knowing that Anakin had fallen with it.

There is a shake of her head though at that question. It is not that Padmé is denying it. No, never that.]

Please. Never fear to ask anything of me, Leia, and I will always answer to the best of my ability.

[Honestly and truthfully. Yet, there is a flash of sadness on her features. A part of her wonders if she will ever be as joyous and carefree as she had once been on Naboo, sharing a picnic with a young padawan...]

Not long, I fear. I- I passed shortly after your birth. A few minutes, maybe.

[ Andyr's expression screws up, something between a scowl and a sneer, because he knows what Nick's saying makes sense, and yet every last part of his is screaming to do something, before it's too late. Waiting had been what took Jehanne from them forever, and ultimately, what put his dad in the damn ground. They'd waited until they knew they had the means, while she suffered alone, and they warped her mind.

but there isn't any immediately threat to anyone right now, and nick's right in that, if he failed, he'd be taken away from alva, val and miray, and stranded somewhere. they'd be completely on their own, and with the ingress gone, he'd never see posie or mikal again.

jaw tight, his lips press together, and andyr looks ready to just punch a wall if he can't punch anyone else. instead, he pushes his palms over his face, and paces over to one of the walls of the hallway, a quiet, mostly incoherent murmuring coming from behind his hands, all that can likely be picked it is something about fish. For a long moment, Andyr's still and unresponsive, trying to reign himself in and push that pounding fear towards the back of his mind, something every inch of him is rebelling against, as it has for years.

What he focuses in on is what Nick had said - about if he were taken away. Eventually, he speaks up, hands falling away from his face. ]

Cassie'd be safe. I'd make sure.

[ In case he was worried about it. Not because he's particularly fond of Nick, but because he knows the loss Cassie's had. He's lived it. A slow sigh leaves him, and he lolls his head to the side, to look at Nick. ] Yeah, you might get one that doesn't mention killing you in your sleep every other day. What a pain in the ass that would be.

[Six months ago, Adam might've called that paranoid – but after everything he's dealt with since then, he's not sure he can rule out even the most ludicrous of tinfoil-hat conspiracy theories anymore.

In other words: once you're enemies with the goddamned Illuminati, everything else seems that much more believable by comparison. It's a good point on its own merits, though– and one that he's already considered, himself.

But the question, as abrupt as it is, gives him pause – it takes him a good few long seconds of thought before he can come up with any sort of answer at all.] As long as they haven't given me a reason not to trust them...

[He frowns, mouth thinning. It's a weak-sounding answer, and he knows it – but it's very truly the only sort of criteria he's come to be able to rely on.]

Lately, I– Haven't really been able to be picky about who I place my trust in. But as long as we're all here, I think most of us are in the same boat.

[ ...Okay, honestly, he can't argue much on the side of having some homelessness to himself as well. He does make a point of it. But wow, Barnes is the extreme spectrum and 30% less isn't fair. ]

Sixty. I shave and brush my hair now and then. [ Now and then. Before he goes vent crawling. ] But I'm not half a robot, and I actually talk. When's the last time you heard Fabio say so many words in one sitting?

[ Look, there are things Andyr knows about himself, and one of them is that he talks a lot more than people wish he did. Usually it's about much less pleasant things than this. ]

Man, sounds boring. Scientists should be kept on their toes.

[ Tony pushes away from some combination of chemicals and beakers, which looks super important and scientific, but is definitely just an experiment in service of better alcohol production. ]

So, you're obviously not lost. Looking for something?

[ Okay. Well. He's gotta roll with this now. He can do that, he's rolled through more absurd conversations than this, somehow. ]

I think you'll quickly find that I am a one-of-a-kind individual.

[ He shrugs, the picture of modesty. It helps flawlessly mask the fact that he's internally screaming. ]

It's the jawline, probably. I wouldn't worry, chicks are into it.

[Drift doesn't necessarily like what Ratchet is saying, at least not at first. Being reminded that Ratchet saving his life all those millions of years ago had lead to the deaths of countless Autobots that Ratchet hadn't been able to save was never fun. The last time it had come up, Drift hadn't taken it well. More accurately, he'd taken it horribly. He'd gotten angry, even pulled a sword on the medic. The circumstances had been a lot different last time, but either way, it wasn't a topic Drift enjoyed discussing. To this day, the guilt of the things he'd done gnawed at the back of his mind and it still blew him away that Ratchet didn't outright hate him for pretty much everything.

Anyway, Drift had kept quiet, half expecting a chewing out. What he ended up hearing was quite different. He stared through the whole thing, mouth slightly agape as Ratchet proceeded to blow him away yet again. He knew the medic didn't think too poorly of him at this point, after all he'd been the only person from a ship of two hundred something Autobots that had been willing to drop everything just to track his dumb ass down. Hearing Ratchet's reasoning behind it put the whole thing into a new perspective, though.]

Ratchet, I... [he pauses to clear the static from his throat, finding a great spot on the floor to stare at in an effort to keep the whole emotions thing in check] I don't know that I do deserve this, but. I'd like it. Simple's good.

[It wasn't the most eloquent reply ever, but it was about the best he could manage for a minute.]

Fortunately, no. I'm not sure what I would do if any of my own ended up here.

[Having to wrangle in the cats that are Landon and Six would be a full-time job. Zoya would just not be thrilled.

At least Kadin would probably be running some aspect of this place.]

And you?

"Huh. Security firm?" It doesn't sound military.

"Nah. I'm written for facility administration. This was the closest match they could find when the Ingress pulled me through." He doesn't sound too broken up about it. The opposite, honestly-- the mainframe hadn't expected to be kept functioning at all, much less given any kind of system access.

Two months, which isn't a long time, but you'd be surprised how much ridiculous shit can happen in space in that amount of time. Ask anyone.

[ He pauses, but it's filled with plenty of open staring at Vision, like he's still not quite sure what to make of him. He's like JARVIS, but... not. There's something almost naive about him, but that's not quite it either. ]

So, this is the awkward part where I tell you right up front that I don't know anything about... anything. [ He makes a vague, somewhat frustrated, hand gesture. ] You heard the timelines spiel, right? I don't need to go into that?

That's rude. I'm the picture of serenity.

[ He rolls his eyes, then rolls his shoulders. Bucky's not wrong, of course, and he knows it. Anyone who looks at him knows it. But he's far from the only person around here who looks like they need a gallon of herbal tea and a week of sleep, so he's fairly used to getting away with it. ]

So how does this work, I share and then you share?

[ Because he's never gonna talk without there being a catch. ]

Good thinking.

[ They can all sincerely hope it doesn't come to that, but at least a computer program is much easier to salvage than an organic should something go sideways. Still, being trapped in a system that's locked in (utterly pointless) power saving mode, with no outlet and sluggish command executions...

He gives her a long, considering look. ]

So. How do you feel about a field trip?

Great.

[ Tony rubs at his face, offering an exasperated sigh. How is it this place is full of so much crazy bullshit all the time? ]

Y'know, I was really hoping to hear the opposite of that. It would've made this marginally less horrible.

[Fair by him.]

Any chance I could get your name?

...Not that "Tall, Terse, and Trigger-Happy" doesn't scan, but...

[He probably shouldn't have said that part aloud.]

[And now he can't help but wonder how a city-sized synthetic similar in structure to Magnus would measure up in comparison to a reaper, height- or length-wise.]

I imagine such a thing was quite the sight.

[One viewed from a very comfortable distance, he thinks. Or perhaps on a view screen after the fact.]

Forgive me if this question is out of place - I'm afraid my experience with synthetic races is somewhat limited. Are you a common height, for individuals of your species?

[Because while Magnus certainly is not city sized, he's still freakin' enormous.]

[ Snake is all too familiar with that strategy, and has had mixed results in how well it works. Opening up isn't something that's generally done in his line of work, though he can also be surprisingly forthcoming depending on the situation. And how much he can be bothered to care at the time. ]

No arguments there. [ He's honestly waiting for the moment when this get-out-of-death-free card comes back to bite them in the ass, but he also hasn't gotten himself killed. Nor does he plan to.

As soon as that heavy inhale and exhale starts, Snake draws closer to join the stranger at his side, a good foot of distance between them. Gaps in the memory could be caused by any number of things, but at least now Snake has a better idea of what this guy is going through.

He stares through the small window at the stars as he talks. ] So the Ingress yanked you here in the middle of a life-or-death situation. Nice of it.

"If someone's really in my fanclub, they're already used to being disappointed."

Haha, it's a joke. It's definitely, definitely a joke with no basis in fact. You can tell because his deadpanned delivery is utterly free of flaw.

"But I was actually thinking coffee and marathon advanced circuitry. The fact that your mind went there tells me a lot about you as a person, though, so thanks for that."

He tips his head toward the stained glass windows, framing the area that used to contain the bar proper.

"So how long are you gonna last?"

[He nods, an affirmative noise in the back of his throat, further solidifying the fact that he is really, really terrible at this. 76 considers the fact that the gunnery is currently empty to be a good thing. Means he can scope it out without any of the staff telling him not to touch things.

He's so bad at this, it seems, that it takes him a moment to reply, seemingly more interested in the consoles and tech.]

76.

[It's on the back of his jacket and everything, which he guesses is what the media went off when they slapped the name on him. He hadn't exactly started the vigilante thing with a name in mind, but he supposes this is good enough for his purposes.]

That's what people call me.

[Well, now he does! The scandal is resolved, and he's now free to enjoy Thane's chest for as long as he likes.]

Ahab. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[Manners!!! manners are important, ok ok. No one likes a rude assassin, u kno.

And "Ahab's" offer earns a small smile from Thane.]

Your discretion is appreciated, though I hope it will be unnecessary.

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( august intro log )

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