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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A society built on survival and complacency then? Alexander considered the implications of that, and he had helped to start the beginnings of it in his own world. People unable and unwilling to stand up, instead simply trying to make it through one day in order to reach the next where the exact same routine awaited them. It was the only race many ran, never roused to rebel and being too shy to see one who was rebelling as anything more than a disruption to scheduling and the mundane life built with walls of letting other people have control.

"It sounds like people have accepted their unhappiness as just a way of life," he remarked, though he was guessing. There wasn't a lot of information to go on, but probing at the words that had been spoken meant that he could gradually build a better understanding. Not that it mattered, but he like to think he could build on the mistakes of others to create something beneficial for those that remained behind.

"Is your gruff attitude of not caring a front to prevent yourself from losing whatever it is you have left or just your own way of rebelling against the way your life turned out?"

[That looks like a lot more than 'hurt her leg' but Wanda doesn't say anything. It's pretty clear Robin doesn't want to talk about it. Not yet, anyway, if ever.]

Do you have a flashlight? All of this is getting ridiculous.

Wait, someone left you in charge of eleven year olds?

[He laughs a little. Look, that's almost as ridiculous as leaving Nick in charge of a teenager.

Nick rubs the back of his neck after they're facing each other. Andyr looks a little too ready for his liking.]

For the record, that's when I'd use my super freak powers.

[He puts his fists up. When it comes to fighting, Nick's average. He can hold his own in a bar brawl. He can take a punch when his reflexes aren't fast enough to help him avoid it, can give one right back and even fight dirty on occasion. It's nothing fancy, but he's alive, isn't he? Fighting on command is...odd, for him. He takes a breath before he steps forward, throwing out a sudden right at his roommate's face. Some of his concentration goes to not using his powers. It gets a little instinctive these days.]

I care. [ Adrien muttered, giving the room one more anxious glance before Andyr’s tugged him through the Medbay doors. Thus proving that beneath all the snapping and snarling, he truly was lord of the nerds.

As the Medbay doors shut behind them Adrien resigned himself to the fact that this was a thing that was happening, though he began to squirm, demanding his freedom from being lead along like a toddler. ]

No more bony than normal. Why? Is this going to involve some sort of weird body contortions? [ A thought strikes him and he looks momentarily horrified. ] This isn’t some form of, what’s it called, yo-yo, yogu … yoga! Yoga is it?

[ Someone had tried to introduce him to Yoga as a way to relax. It had not been a good fit. ]

I will. But you be careful, too.

[Not that she's expecting to; if they have any idea what she's capable of they'll either try to bring her to heel immediately or keep her from getting in range. Or perhaps something else...]

They said they 'shut Manasseh down.' I don't know how.

[ She catches on and smirks a little, taking it. Her own weapons are put away in her room. ]

We didn't have this set up before, so this will be our first contest. You want to use the score keeper?

[ She's never revealed to many people that she's actually an AI inhabiting a human body here—her shooting is nearly perfect when she shoots both-handed. But she doesn't mind using that to her advantage. Especially when it means winning. ]

[ Nick's flashed a smirk, because yes, he was left in charge of eleven year olds, but that was also before he went batshit. ]

We'll add those in later. Relying on your super freak powers is what'll get you killed, especially with people like Division, who've been hunting people like you for years. [ He's explaining, while Nick gets ready. ] Know what you're doing first, then add those on top.

[ Andyr's more focused on the task at hand, rather than getting into more about powers at the moment, watching how Nick holds himself, how he manages that punch, where most of the power in it comes from, and at the last second, he jerks back to narrowly avoid taking the fist to the face, with a hand touching the side of Nick's wrist to push punch to the side. Actual impact not necessary. ]

Good. You fight like a boxer, most people do, it's just what you know. Here's the thing, though. Boxers aren't trying to kill each other, and Division will be. [ And, no, this isn't the part he taught to eleven year olds, but the eleven year olds weren't running off to fight the government. For as careless and flippant as Andyr typically is with him, he's actually shifting into something more genuine here, taking this seriously, with a sincere concern for preparing him for what he's going into. ]

If you forget everything else I tell you, remember these two things - first, go for what's going to drop them fastest. Don't sit there and wail on one person for five minutes, because that gives his ten friends running down the hall time to show up and tase you. [ This isn't so much part of Muay Thai theory as it is just what Andyr'd been taught by his father, and what he'd learned trying to make it through Hapsburg sane. Stepping him, given he has so little concern for personal boundaries, he takes Nick's face in his hands and starts to point things out as he explains. ] The skull is a hard fucking thing, so if you're punching someone in the head, go for the soft parts. Where the jaw hinges, here. At the temple. The ear. If they're close enough for you to put fingers in their eyes, do it. Throat. You can crush a windpipe without using your powers at all.

[ how many people has andyr punched or kicked in the throat? too many. Moving on, he'll let Nick have his face back, and switch to showing movement. ]

Second thing - keep moving. You're not going to have fair, one-on-one fights, and even in those, you want to be a moving target. This straight line bullshit is for video games, no one fights like that, not even in boxing rings. If you step in to throw a punch, do it, and when you step out, go at a 45. [ Pacing over, he taps at the back of Nick's feet with the inside of is to move him into a good stance. ] So, get on the balls of your feet, one foot forward about half a step, nothing huge or you'll lose balance too easy. When you punch, it's your entire body that goes into it, okay, not just your arm, so when you throw it, push the weight off that back foot and drive it into the punch. Got it?

I wouldn't hold my breath, sadly. [There's sarcasm in that, but he's also 99% convinced the new captains don't care, so long as the ship arrives in port sooner.]

It's... complicated. I suppose that's the best way to say it. But this isn't exactly my first time being kidnapped to another world or realm entirely, for some reason or another.

[Stay with him, Lúcio, he'll explain a thing!!]

Ah. [Vision comes to rest at his original place, shifting his density so that his feet touch the ground again. He finds it difficult to look this person in the eye, suddenly. Embarrassment would be the word for what he is feeling, most likely.] My apologies. That was quite rude of me. I have never come across a being capable of projecting in that way.

[Inwardly he scolds himself for letting his passion for answers get in the way of common decency. Surely he knows better than that. Rather sheepishly, he holds out his hand. ]

My name is Vision. Perhaps we should start there.

Arno, please. [It's a quiet chuckle as he smiles at Alva.] Monsieur Dorian was a name reserved for my father, not me.

[Alva's explanation sounds easy enough, and Arno's eyes shift from where the monitor's tracking starts to where the battery is pointed out. He barely knows much beyond simple first aid, but this thing in front of him sounds incredible, and almost impossible to even achieve beyond a simple touch to someone's wrist.]

And it can tell all of this, even when the patient looks fine? [He'd always asked the brothers and sisters of the Order if they felt well on a mission or if they needed assistance- this goes into something so much greater and so much more important.] I don't think I could ever imagine this being made in my time. It seems almost impossible as it is now.

[He sighs.] Unfortunately the great advances we have in medicine for myself are rather limited, compared to what's here. Paris is a great place of discovery, but not exactly the best location when you're in the middle of a revolution.

[An overlooked act of omission is never anything that Padmé would hold against someone, and it isn't every day that one is confronted with someone that they never knew and could never know. Of course as Leia says that, it is on the tip of her tongue to ask why, but she already knows the answer to that. The universe has grown darker recently.]

Two children who were likely Force sensitive would have been easier to find than one. And Naboo would have been pretty obvious if Sola suddenly showed up with a newborn- although I think Ryoo and Pooja would have loved that.

[Her slip of calling them his aunt and uncle isn't even noted, although Padmé wouldn't find that strange. No doubt Luke wouldn't see Bail and Breha as parents as just how much interaction would they have had growing up? Owen and Beru had seemed quite settled on Tatooine, unlike to travel, and it likely was for safety as well.]

Anakin had been gone for some time, and it wasn't exactly planned.

[She can admit that to her, having no shame in it. It might not have been something that Anakin and her had sat down and discussed as to exact dates, but Padmé had always wanted a family.

And war... Yes war had been all around. Leeching and sapping them. Draining them. Dragging them down.]

And your life? Have you found something you are passionate about?

[Ocelot looks similarly amused, tipping his chin down in a fruitless effort to hide his smile.]

I planned on sticking by your side for some time, Boss.

[Unless he sees a need for Ocelot to leave, but he doesn't expect that.]

[Having steeled herself for anything (literally anything, given that the world she was in last introduced her to a few literal gods and a talking raccoon and various superpowered beings), Carol doesn't jump out of her skin. Instead, she freezes, silent, carefully considering. It's not as though she's never seen a "walker" that can talk before, though she half convinced herself that she's misremembering because what would that mean, if it were true, if everything Lizzie said was actually possible...]

[Drawing a breath, she lowers her knife just a fraction. What's a severed head going to do, glare at her? Besides, given her previous experience with talking things-that-shouldn't-talk, she's not about to disregard the possibility that this thing isn't out to destroy everyone here. And if it is, well, it's not getting far.]

Depends, [she begins, her voice firm but somehow conciliatory, like she knows she should be apologizing but isn't quite ready] on whether you bite other people and turn them into something like you.

((OOC: I'm so so so SO sorry I'm this late! I left for vacation literally the day after this posted... if I'm too late for your comfort, feel free to ignore this tag!))

[Carol's busy looking for something to tidy up and coming up empty, given how her possessions have gone from unbelievably many to precious few in the last couple of hours. Glancing up as someone enters, perhaps a little quickly as her nerves are on edge and has her paranoid, she relaxes marginally at the extended hand before turning to take it with a smile.]

I'm Carol. [She seems at a bit of a loss for what to add as she shakes Fareeha's hand and then retracts her own, but catches sight of the helmet before the silence can grow.] Are you a pilot, or something?

((OOC: I'm so so so SO sorry I'm this late! I left for vacation literally the day after this posted... if I'm too late for your comfort, feel free to ignore this tag!))

[Carol herself is brimming with questions, but she knows better than to start interrogating people when she's the fish out of water that needs to jump on in. Since deciding to explore she has her friendly face on, an easy smile ready and plenty of charm to go around. You get more flies with honey.]

I'm not sure what I'm looking for. Just got here. [She flashes a somewhat less comfortable smile this time, glancing around.] I figured on the list of places to know how to get to, this would be near the top. So now I'm just... [she gestures vaguely at their surroundings, looking a bit lost, a bit overwhelmed, a bit in need of any help at all and full of grateful relief for anyone who might offer.]

((OOC: I'm so so so SO sorry I'm this late! I left for vacation literally the day after this posted... if I'm too late for your comfort, feel free to ignore this tag!))

Someone knocking at the door is always going to have her breath catching, as she presumes is true with any of them. Back on Earth they're used to anyone not-them being a threaten first and trust much later (maybe) situation, and in Teleios... safe to say things were variable, depending on a lot of things, some of which had very little to do with the person in question. But this, sharing a room with strangers when she's used to the comfortable, locked, private walls of her own little sanctuary, this is rough, and so she's on edge to say the very least, though hiding it well, and not so much as she would be direct from the husk of Terminus. She's been hearing about private rooms here but assumes that sort of thing comes with time and favor, and with the apparently new leadership change who knows how long that'll be.

In any case, she calls for the person knocking to come in, as she stoops to make a fuss about straightening her already quarter-bounceable bedsheets. (She's not, of course, straightening anything, but making a plausible excuse to be bent down so her gun will be in easy reach if there's trouble.)

Upon seeing Daryl there, she relaxes. Not all the way, because that could be really damn stupid, and she's sure he won't expect her to do anything like that. Even insistent as he was in Teleios that they need to give people a chance, and much as a lot of her now believes he's correct, that takes time and space and they've had neither. But, at least, he'll know she's glad to see him. Always is.

"Come on in. For a dime you get the grand tour."

[Having her game face on means she's not visibly startled to come across anyone, and she's not anxious to be addressed. If anything she looks relieved, and grateful... which she is, though she's keenly aware that she's trying to come across as such. It gets complicated for her, how much of her is lying and how much is the truth.]

Maybe a little, [she admits, looking only slightly sheepish.] I might as well be wearing a sign that says I'm new, huh?

[Carol lost her boots in the Ingress, but considering her last trip between dimensions they took all her weapons she's counting herself lucky this time. She can live without her boots, much as she liked them; lack of knives and guns and ammo would be massively less comfortable to be without. (She's wearing a bowie knife with finger holds as well as a small pistol on her belt since she hasn't gotten situated enough to start hiding them yet, and the big stuff's in her backpack.)]

[She spots a kid looking like his face got beat to hell and instinctively she starts cataloging how many hits that probably took and how old the injuries are, a strange combination of horrifying life experience and actual medical training.]

[Wordlessly, at first, she reaches into a jacket pocket and pulls out a small packet.] It's an ice pack if you crack the seal. Want it? [Normally she'd be more maternal to what looks like a teenager, but her relationship with children is up and down. Besides, she never wanted anyone's pity when she got her face turned to hamburger.]

Considering how hard she's looking, it doesn't take Carol long to locate Glenn or the others of them, few though they are, who are here. She's in the same mode Glenn is in: explore the place, find out what she can, make a plan and make the best of it. Being already from one strange not-Earth place arguably gives her a slight leg up, but not really a very good one considering her paranoia now extends to a whole lot of places it never used to. Magic can be a wonderful thing, or terrifying. As can everything, in fairness, but at least they're used to the worst of humanity and can plan for it, counter. Magic, she's learned, is way out of her league.

Regardless, knowing now that Daryl is also from Teleios she's calmed down a great deal about whether anyone else is. What's come crashing back is some of her old anxieties about whether the rest of the group will want her around, given what she did back at the prison forever ago, but having guessed enough about her future during those two years even those have less teeth. She knows, or mostly knows, that she joined back up with everyone, unfathomable as she finds it given how she was when she left Earth, so she doesn't hesitate to approach Glenn when she finds him on the Observation Deck as she may have, once.

"I'm asking myself that every minute," she says in response to his probably rhetorical question, smiling despite their mutual lack of answer. Glenn's here and he's in one piece, which is better than the last time he popped out of the dimensional void, so as far as Carol is concerned things are looking up. Optimism, who knew she had it in her?

He'll notice, of course. How not stilted she is, how she's holding back only marginally. Carol isn't the same person she was when she turned Terminus into a smoking crater, and she never wants to be again. She's more like she was at the prison, though her hair's longer, her stance better balanced; the person she should have been. When she gets around to admitting that by the way she was in this whole other world for two years, she'll let Glenn know he has Daryl and Rick and himself, oddly, to thank for getting her out of her own way, as well as a few strangers who might be too painful to mention.

[Where else would their group go after getting over the disorientation of a new dimension? The armory, of course. Carol isn't assigned there so she's loitering near the entrance, trying to look sufficiently lost and confused so some poor soul will let her get a peek at whatever weapons they've got in there, whoever "they" are. It's a ploy that tends to work given enough time, but she spots Carl before she can find anyone to take the bait.]

[Rather than shout his name, she simply straightens, her face now all business, and walks over.] You okay? [she asks without preamble, reaching out to get an arm around him presuming that he answers in the affirmative. Part of her is still glancing around and hoping Judith will be toddling along after, she was two in Teleios by the time they were given the option to leave, and if she's not here that's going to arguably be the hardest thing to accept. She doesn't ask yet, hoping against hope that she can avoid getting cut off at the knees for another few moments, hoping that Carl is actually fine and maybe his dad might be hanging around somewhere...]

[Futile hopes, she realizes they likely are. But still.]

[Yeah, this sounds like a Mess, and 76 makes an exasperated noise from behind his mask. Perhaps if his face were exposed, he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose. The sentiment is certainly there.]

Anyone dependable?

[Sola, Ryoo, Pooja--they're evocative sounding names, and they aren't far in sound from Padmé, but they don't mean anything to Leia.] Are they...relatives of yours?

[She's never thought of the possibility that maternal kin might exist for her, that somewhere out there might be cousins or grandparents, aunts or uncles, belonging to her birth mother. The royal family of Alderaan stretched enough that she hadn't wanted for extended family, and the mystery of her mother's sad smile had always occupied her thoughts. But now--now, if she could return home and find any of these people, she gladly would.]

He was gone? [It's Leia's turn to stop, staring at her mother with worry in her eyes. Anakin had said nothing of this--but then, Anakin wouldn't know, would he? He was too far away from the possibility of children when he was brought here. Padmé's question is set aside for a moment, to be returned to when things are more clear.] He left you?

[ Ouch, girl. Why you got to lay that on him? He was just a kid when he met you! He shakes his head, sighing. ]

I know you wanted to join us, Fareeha, and believe me, I woulda been glad to have you. But things don't always work out how we'd like'em to. By the time you were grown enough, it'd already started goin' to hell.

Weird? You sayin' things shift around on their own, like?

[ Hmm. ]

Guess this ain't gonna be no pleasure cruise.

Sorry to disappoint, my man.

[he doesn't sound like he means it.]

Have you had that problem before?

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Page 159 of 231

( august intro log )

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omfg why is this huge, im sorry

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oh lord I feel this

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sounds good!

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post-medbay

soon after arrival but after untying?

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