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)! )

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Hmm. I say as a mage who finds the concept both interesting and a bit disappointing that magic is still "dangerous and scary".

[A shrug.]

Using your blood ...or someone else's if you're a nasty one as a medium for magic instead of normal means. Useful but much easier for demons to possess you. The power draws them in.

Yeah. They only just got here, and already I'm betting a lot of the crew don't like them.

[People generally don't listen to people they don't like. And after everything that's been happening to them, Boone feels like having the crew and captains divided is only going to end badly.]

Guess we'll just have to see how things play out. Can't see it ending well, though.

Huh. Never did much reading when I was a kid. Learned to read and write, but that's about it. Was always more interested in doing other stuff. Guess I'll read things like comic books or magazines if there's nothing else to do, but it's hard finding one that isn't burnt or missing pages.

[Or straight up covered in blood. Whose blood? Hell if he knows.]

[Komaeda gives Armin a sort of dead-eyed stare. Trying to explain his luck is just way too exhausting for him to attempt right now, especially to someone who seems like an adamant follower of pure logic.]

Well... let's just say that it's a more significant factor than most.

Missing pages was always a bit infuriating. For a while, I pretty much had to steal the things from people, and it was a wonder how people even tried to read the damn things if it wasn't all there.

[Sometimes there was blood too, but he generally had an idea of whose it was. Because he'd spilled it in the first place.]

I think the library might have comic books, and I'd bet they'd have all their pages.

Guess if you've got nothing better to do, it's better than just... sitting there. Does get pretty annoying, though.

[He wonders if he'll even be able to read in this state. Well, no harm in trying.]

I'll check it out. ...Wonder if they'd have the ones from back home.

[He doubts it, but stranger things have happened and people have been teleported here from all over time and space. Why not books?]

[One would think that Ginko would eventually get used to just... having no idea what Kaworu is asking most of the time.]

What... do you mean?

Are you also waiting on the Ingress? Or have you found a happiness here that you would call your own?

[Kaworu smiles benevolently down at Ginko, no trace of his own frustration left on his face.]

There is no shame in either. It is fated that your heart will guide you to the happiness you desire, so long as you do not ignore the feelings you know to be true.

Some place called Nomo.

[Whether he's gonna stay in the room remains to be seen-- he's not eager to bunk with strangers-- but it seems like a place to start.]

Lights Down Low

[The dimness of the ship was nothing like the heavy oppressive dark of night on the island. There's enough light to see by, there's no tangled growth sending twisting shadows tugging on the edge of his vision, there's no screaming, wailing, nightmare ridden children crying out.

But it brings back memories of all of these things.

His already frayed nerves are being drawn tight and ready to snap. The knife that Frank gave him does not leave his side, he holds it under his towel when he goes to the bath, and tucks it into his boot when he has to be in uniform. He doesn't feel good about this. It doesn't make him feel better, or protected, or safe. Thinking about using it makes him almost sick. It's better than being a kid with a stick, but in a place like this it's not better by much. People here are strong, dangerous, very real, and very close. It was no odd shaped terror high up on the mountain, or even a ring of boys cornering him in a mat of creepers. Some of the people on this ship were worse than all that because he didn't know which ones they were. But not having the knife feels worse.

Working fills his time well. It's nasty work, damp, and foul smelling, but it's necessary and important and getting done. The hourly reboots give him routine, comforting and rote, and his free time he spends tucked into a corner of the library. He reads sometimes. Books on planes and bugs and cars things. Most of them are out of his level, and half of them seem so fantastical to him that it feels like fiction. Today he has a book on spaceships. Most of the words mean nothing to him at all, but there are diagrams, clean and well colored nicely. He traces his fingers over the parts, looking for even one thing that might resemble a piston.

His knife sits, folded shut, on his knee, right hand resting loosely on it while his left explores the details of the ships.]

Reuse and Recycle

[After living on an endless supply of fruit, Ralph might be expected to protest to limitations on his food, but he does not. He's used to rationing, and again, the strictness and the regularity of it all is such a stark contrast to the island that it puts him at ease. There's rules here, and as far as he's seen they're followed. These new captains knew what they were doing. They weren't like him, stumbling forward one half thought through step at a time. It worries him a little that they might be like Jack. Zealous with control, but since he was in no position to threaten theirs, (or anyone's really) he put it out of his mind.

If he hears anybody complaining about the cutbacks he'll frown. Mutter something, and then breathe to muster his will and speak.]

When things're strict like this it's cause they've got to be. So everyone gets his fair share.

Edited 2016-08-15 22:55 (UTC)

[He pauses for a moment, trying to remember how to get there from here, then grunts.]

Yeah, I know where it is. Can take you there if you want.

[Once he's there, he can probably figure out where his own room is without Boone's help.]

[The look on her face gets an answering snort, amused and agreeable. So far he's not exactly impressed by the planning here. But, then, what the hell else are they gonna have him doing?]

Where's the Zones?

[Considering how long they've been without electricity-- aside from the odd generator or Alexandria's solar panels-- he can't help being curious.]

[Varying between sour and shocked is the best Daryl can really do-- it's a hell of a change, and it'd be hard to get further from what he expected.

On the other hand he's curious, maybe even grudgingly impressed with bits and pieces of it-- when he's not busy being frustrated.]

You're... part of the computer?

[He hazards the guess, thinking of all the movies he's ever seen-- doesn't the computer always sound like a woman? it kinda makes sense.]

[The way he fits in is why she doesn't seem startled by his appearance; Rey herself has smudges of oil, mysterious engine fluids, and who knows what else smeared across her standard-issue ship gear. She doesn't want to mess up her normal clothes working in here, after all. She has plenty of them now, but she's going to care for them all as if they're the only changes she has.

His manner, however, does catch her off guard. She isn't used to anyone being so... talkative around her. She isn't really the sort that invites conversation.

Except when someone mentions the name of a droid that had laid dormant for decades in a secret Resistance base. Immediately she moves forward, putting herself toe-to-toe with him. Even still bruised from her time as a slave, she strikes an imposing figure.]

How do you know about Ar-too?

[He hesitates. Found happiness? He's not sure if he would say that, given things like the attack and Frisk's death. Trying to live back home was stressful, things hurt sometimes, but never like that.

But then there's everything else that's changed.]

...Everyone wants the Ingress fixed. It needs to be. So I... guess I'm waiting for it, too.

[Not really what Kaworu wanted to know, but it's about the closest he can get to bringing himself to answering.

...Feelings he knows to be true, huh.]

I don't...

...do you think they'll make me go back?

[Trusting total strangers to show him around strange places? Not Daryl's strong point.

But he's well-armed and lacking in better choices, so after a moment he gives a short nod.]

If it ain't outta your way.

Hmmm.

[Kaworu looks slightly troubled as he contemplates that. He doesn't know the answer to that. Would they? After all, Ginko is a perfectly capable individual, he could surely prove useful to the permanent staff of the Moira. True, it might cause some complications, but--]

...I don't see how they could. So I suppose not.

[If Ginko wanted, he could simply leave the ship on any planet and disappear. Board another ship. Then another. Soon there would be no way to find him at all. He would be free. Free to live and explore these galaxies as he wished, to form new relationships and bonds with people settle down in a place he could call 'home.'

It's nice, thinking about the opportunities for happiness that can come to people to like Ginko. Even if they directly sabotage one road, there will always be another. True happiness is always possible, as long as there is the will to live.]

"Seems nice enough," he mutters. Uncertain, on principle, but what can he do? This is where they are, it's what they're dealing with. He can handle it. They're nothing if not adaptable.

But that doesn't mean it comes easy, and when she pauses, he gets what it means. It's some comfort that she doesn't lie for his benefit. After all this time, maybe that's fair. They ought to be honest with themselves, with each other. Leaning against the upper bunk, he fixes her with a long look, then nods.

"We'll be all right."

For a moment the old, aggressive optimism that used to come so much easier shines through. He believes it. Knows having faith-- that they'll adjust, same as always, they ain't ashes yet-- is the only way it's going to be true.

[All Boone is carrying around is his pistol, which is holstered, and the combat knife in his boot. Both of which he'd use if he had to, but he'd rather not. As for Daryl, well, if keeping that knife out makes him feel better then he won't bother asking him to put it away. Just as long as he doesn't start waving it at him or anything. He wouldn't appreciate that.]

Got nothing better to do.

[He starts walking, expecting Daryl to follow. After a few moments, he speaks again.]

Guessing we'll probably run into each other again, one way or another. You got a name?

[He's not one for small talk, but he at least makes an effort to know the names of the people he talks to.]

...Yeah. I guess not.

[His hesitation shows in his voice. Would that really be better? The possible results that come to mind aren't nearly as optimistic as him as for Kaworu. If everyone else went home, and he stayed here... where would that leave him? Alone in a world he didn't belong to.

At least he's supposed to be in his own world, in some way. But he'd still be alone, having to keep moving, all the time, for as long as he lived.]

[Though he doesn't put the knife away, at the least he's lowered it-- threatening strangers isn't his aim, here, he just wants to be able to defend himself if needed. He falls into step behind the other man, still wary, but a little soothed by the prospect of having a defined goal.]

Daryl.

[The answer is quick enough, guarded as he is.]

You?

If it's any consolation, teaching assistants aren't qualified to be teaching assistants. I'm sure you'll fit right in.

Boone.

[Another pause.]

Been here a couple months now. Others been here longer, though. Hope you weren't planning on going anywhere for a while.

[He's blunt and to the point, as usual. He's never been one to sugarcoat things. Better people get the facts as soon as they can, in his opinion.]

You should consider your choice carefully.

[Kaworu's advice is gentle in tone.]

...but I must apologise. Someone else has probably already eaten your ration, since you left it. I'm sorry.

[That is, indirectly, his fault.]

[That suits Daryl just fine. He answers with a laugh, just a short huff. A little bitter, maybe, but who can fault him?]

Ain't like I know which way home is. No hurry.

[So they're in the same boat.]

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( august intro log )

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Ralph | Lord of the Flies

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it's ok i love it

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