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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[Saitama had gone off and found a cozy, dark corner to nap in. He's snoozing, leaned up against the wall.

But someone's gonna skate over his foot. He'll feel the abrupt rush of pain raise up his body and he'll yelp awake, bouncing as he held his "injured" foot. You've broken his comedy shield, Lucio, good job]

YEOOW-- shit!

[ Vengarl stares back for a moment. He's never seen anything like Asriel before - and where he comes from, running into something you've never seen before usually means that you're about to be attacked by something you've never seen before.

Of course, this one can talk, so perhaps that isn't what is about to happen. The young... goat creature... seemed to be apologetic enough, at least.]

...it is all right. Just please be careful where you are stepping in the darkness.

[ Ava is sensitive to the smell of blood and, unlike those fairy tales people tell of vampires, it doesn't drive her crazy or ravenous. If anything, it's suspicious, especially when it's wandering the halls. The observation deck is one of Ava's favorite places to be and tonight, it reeks of blood...and something foreign, sickly, enough to make her stomach clench. She goes looking for someone injured or for a dead body, and finds a young girl.

A young girl covered in dried blood. ]

Hey.

[ It's a soft call as she comes up to the deck, brow furrowed. ]

Are you okay?

[ It's a slippery slope, a messy thing -- one step forward and it's sometimes two steps back. Bucky does his best to try to be a person again, but all the impassioned lectures on personhood and individuality and freedom might as well be smoke for all the truth it holds in a harsh reality. Reality is: no one's really free. No one's truly themselves where other people (or themselves) can see.

So being a person, really, can sometimes be like playing (for untold sums) a complex game of obstacle darts while blindfolded, in one of those spinning teacups. On top of a speeding train. Convoluted analogy aside: it can sometimes suck. Andyr's presence is enough to remind him to think of something else, to try harder, because Andyr is more human than he can ever hope to be, and he's the one with all the damn ports on his spine, like some sort of human wall socket.

Still, Andyr is clever, and Bucky considers that a moment before he steps deeper into the shadows, bidding the other to do the same with him, too. He makes space for Andyr, and he tries not to think about how strange it is that he's already taken to him. Shared experiences can do that to you, maybe. He decides that he doesn't much mind it. ]

Unless they plan to use her again at a later date. [ Because that always happens, right? New objectives, new awakenings. The whole thing sickens him, the way it feels so familiar. ] And maybe they're doing this because they know they have leverage over us. No need to pretend anymore.

Rinzler is here! Yori's smile brightens abruptly--and fades almost as fast. A separate Tron is here too, that's good, if complicated, but if there are different versions and Alan doesn't recognize the school, she has no evidence that the Rinzler here remembers her at all.

Well. "He hasn't told you anything?" she asks to verify. It's not proof either way, though. Rinzler might be staying clear of Tron's User for the same forbidden reasons he'd first latched on to Yori. Would he even be able to explain to Alan-one?

"If anyone we could find knew how we got there we'd probably have managed to leave sooner." Yori wrinkles her nose at the total lack of explanation and the impenetrable walls of the trap. "I can only assume that the school was broken somehow too."

[So... the first time someone bumps into him, he'll assume it's his own fault. The second time, he does that awkward dodge back and forth to try and not walk into the kid. Nose down at his MID, Saitama will even forgive that time, because the young guy is probably new.

Third time you run into him, Saitama's got something to say, poking Stiles in the forehead with a pointed finger.]

Kid, you got something against me or what? [Why with all the running into? How are you in every hallway he goes down? Are you the universe's worst pickpocket? He's broke.]

The only reason that Snake even knew that Sans had been in cryo most of last month is because he's diligent about checking the crew directory on his MID. It lays it all out for them there, and thus far he's never come across an instance of it being wrong.

A month is longer than average for someone to be in one of those pods, but Snake doesn't think too hard on it until he comes across Sans himself, pushing along a trash can with all the enthusiasm of an elementary school kid who isn't being stimulated by their coursework.

Snake figures he'll just pass on by, but then Sans waves him over, and the look on his skull is disconcerting, to say the least. Snake's interactions with Sans have been limited and one of them involved almost puking, so he really has no idea what to expect from him now. (Save for a bad pun.)

All the same, he walks over. There's a slim chance that Sans has found something of interest in the garbage, seeing how their new captain wants to dump all the unnecessary junk around here.

[You know what bored people do with random objects laying around, back home? They tend to kick them around. You know, like a soda can down the street?

Saitama doesn't know there's a dude in that helmet. No clue. Looks pretty kickable to him. He slides his shoe underneath Vengarl, hoisting him off the ground. Saitama balances the helmet on the top of his foot for a split second before bouncing the "ball" up into his hands.

He really doesn't expect a face to be looking back at him. Be glad he actually spotted it before drop kicking Vengarl all the way down the observation deck]

Aw! Man, gross.

[ Snake's grip doesn't slip on his handgun as he watches the figure drift toward him through the air. He can't help looking for some means by which the phantom is suspended, but as the boy gets closer and some of his features become more visible, Snake's back and shoulders go stiff.

There's something familiar about the way that the boy hangs in the air, and the gas mask is unmistakable.

Before Snake can really wrap his head around any of what's happening, he feels that probing touch against his mind, also sickeningly familiar. Although instead of digging in his head for something, the boy flashes him with an image of Ahab.

It's really only because Snake's been through this before that he doesn't stumble back in shock and disorientation. His hold on the gun is a little looser now as he squints at the floating figure. ]

I'm not him. You're -- that's you in my head, right?

[ Could this really be Mantis, or is it just some remnant of him? ]

[ .. oh. that kind of reaction.. it's a little bit familiar. he remembers it, a bit, but it's hard to recall the parts of him that were able to hurt like that. tretij gets buried beneath layers of everyone around him, until there are times that he wonders if any part of him is his any longer.

but he knows this feeling. he does remember it, attached to those memories. he just doesn't know how to define any of it anymore. it's easier to be angry, to attach himself to people who can act on that anger, who can use him the way he was meant to be used.

his hand lifts again, fingertips barely brushing raiden's fist. the touch slowly firms as he stares down at them, breathing a little shaky behind his mask.

hell, he echoes raiden's voice, was hell, was hell, was hell. he draws his hand back once more, lifting his face. slowly, he dips in the air, lowering himself to bare feet against the corridor floor. oddly childlike, his toes curl against the chill.

against them-- his own 'voice' is a little disjointed, as if he isn't accustomed to putting things in his own words. most people aren't interested in what he has to say, after all. --if they come here. you can borrow me. ]

[Wanda just stares back at him blankly - she's already worried because this certainly isn't enough to keep her speedster brothers going but there's nothing she can do about it.

Is this really worth getting home a little sooner? Sooner or later it seems like the captain is going to cut back until everyone and everything is just barely functioning in the name of "efficiency."]

This was not our choice. Go talk to the captain.

[Heading towards the mess hall for his daily rations, Saitama yawns loudly, hand over his mouth lazily. There's a ruckus up a head, but when isn't there a ruckus on this ship? He keeps on a head, expecting to walk passed some lasers or robots exploding or something. It's much more mundane, just one guy, but.... someone yelling at the ceiling is generally not a... good sign. He'll stop, hands in his pockets to cock his head to the side at Peter]

Dude, you okay?

[76 is not really a stranger to cyborgs, so he's not exactly phased by Genos' appearance, nor does he flinch when that palm hits him with orange light. Then again, it's hard to tell much of anything about him while he's wearing the visor. It renders his expression mostly unreadable.

He doesn't drop the weapon, of course, though someone trained might take note that his finger isn't on the trigger--an indication that he doesn't intend to shoot. Not yet, anyway.]

You acting on someone's authority?

[If he doesn't have a good reason, it seems he's not going to comply.]

[Adam glances around at the sound, attention lingering on the man for a few extra seconds. "Grizzled" is the first word that comes to mind when he sees the guy, eyepatch and all– military, without a doubt. Starting to run into a lot of those.]

Apparently, yeah. [His tone's dry, if not especially annoyed-sounding (or especially full of any emotion at all, really.) Not a hundred percent sold on the job as a whole yet, if it isn't obvious; honestly, he's feeling a little underutilized, a bit like the Six Million Dollar Inventory Guy. At least it's quiet– or it would be if people weren't constantly coming in here looking for their missing stuff.

Adam cocks a brow at the latest of these visitors.] Let me guess– you're looking for something?

[He indicates the pile of crap in front of him with a wave of one cyberarm. At one point, it might've been organized by "sorted" and "not-sorted," but the people that've come before to pick through and reclaim lost possessions have seen to that.]

[Kaworu is so focused on his private thoughts that he doesn't realise Reinhardt is so near until a massive hand lands on the table next to him. He startles visibly, but there's no protest.

Instead, he just looks up (and up) at the man, blinking at the sound of the table's distress.]

...what?

[Sorry, he's not used to anyone asking after him.

Why are you, anyway?]

[ lot older, he parrots back in eli's voice, head tilting in interest. so he lives that long. long enough to be an adult, himself. the thought is a little bizarre to him, in all honesty, though the part of him that's still capable of it is grateful that he and eli are--or were--still together.

he hesitates, then reaches out, fingers curling in the older man's sleeve. he eases closer, then, a little surprised with himself for how relieved he is. eli hadn't set him aside, even knowing what kind of monster tretij is.

he sends a quick image of the room he was given, the evidence of roommates, distress briefly evident before both the image and the emotion fade. quieter place to sleep? ]

[She's fast enough that he whiffs the punch, but he's well-practiced enough to not overbalance once his fist catches nothing but air. When Zam doesn't make a move to fight back, however, he's quick to level his gun at her in response to her defensive gesture.]

Start talking.

[This guy kind of sounds like he's been gargling fiberglass. Oof.]

[Rey hasn't been in the simulation room since she'd escaped the slaver's outpost. Her body protests the mere act of walking still, so training is definitely out of the question still. But that doesn't mean she can sit around in the medbay and do nothing. Inaction is worse than a little discomfort. And her ribs, like the rest of her, are only bruised, not broken.

She isn't surprised when she finds someone is already inside, but she is surprised that it's Bucky. She's seen him fight before, but not like this. Calculated, merciless. Rey is impressed. She watches, silent, until he notices her standing there. Her staff is slung across her back and she's dressed as if she's ready to train. But watching how effectively he clears each sim is sort of mesmerizing, and makes her think twice. She's definitely not in peak condition right now, even if she wishes she were.]

Don't let me interrupt.

[ After a long day of dealing with both familiar and unfamiliar faces, Snake is about ready to turn in and try to get some sleep. Nothing has settled in light of the arrival of a new captain, but the ship is still moving and time is still marching forward. Snake may not sleep much, but it has to happen sometime.

On his way back to his room in Mero Deck, he spots a man staring out one of the windows into the open chasm that is space. A lot of the newcomers have to wrap their heads around their situation like that; Snake had been the same way once.

He's in the middle of passing him by when the stranger speaks up, and his words are enough to stop Snake in his tracks. He may not know the guy, and the words probably aren't even meant for him, but it's also not the kind of thing you ignore.

Snake turns back toward the new arrival, scanning over his face and those unnatural eyes. Yet another person with prosthetic enhancements. One of Snake's own eyes has been turned to glass, so he's not really in a place to judge. ]

You're not the only one. [ Snake doesn't mean himself. He's heard of a handful of other people who've come back from the dead here. ]

[She almost drops him, because hearing a voice is about the last thing she had expected coming from a severed head. She's able to keep hers about her long enough to set him back down and then take a healthy step back.]

I'm sorry, you're .... ? [She's not sure how to finish that sentence. Alive? Talking? A head? Somehow all of these things?] Am I hallucinating?

[Pharah is a pretty level-headed soldier, but even she's had to deal with a lot of stress throughout her life and maybe this is a result of that? Losing soldiers on the Anubis mission, losing her mother, tumbling through this weird portal to find herself taking a position on a spaceship.]

[ not him, he echoes snake's voice and words back to him, tinged with the psychic equivalent of a scoff. he knows that this person isn't snake-- that snake. he knows what venom's mind feels like, knows the control, the frayed edges. this person is different, but.. he still feels similar.

the question earns a hesitant bob of his head, dirty fingers picking idly at bleeding cuticles as he peers steadily up at him.

that's.. strange. this man finds him familiar, too, doesn't he? he drifts back into the air, rising until they're roughly at eye-level; behind the mask, his are narrowed faintly, suspicious and uncertain. maybe.. he knows eli? maybe.. more than knows him, maybe--

the psychic exclamation mark is practically visible as he projects a quick series of impressions: the adult liquid snake layered over the child eli, a boy's voice snarling father, venom snake's even stare. at the end, snake himself.

family? his own 'voice' is disjointed, a scant psychic whisper, but it's also distinctly tretij. ]

Well, I'm glad someone is providing help for those who need it. Quite a few of my friends have inorganic parts. [She holds out her hand in greeting.] You can call me Pharah.

[If Nihlus is expecting this to be easy, he might be disappointed. 76 is surprisingly solid--he isn't a baseline human, and though his arm gets caught in the hold, he shifts his weight quickly enough to avoid being toppled over. The way he counters indicates training, and the strength with which he holds Nihlus' hand at bay hints at the fact that he isn't exactly a baseline human.]

Don't.

[He has them effectively locked in a stalemate, however temporarily. 76 knows well enough how easily that might change, so in the instant before Nihlus might try something else, he growls a warning.]

[With a nod, he scoops up the whole pointy pile with both arms – sharp edges scraping harmlessly against the polycarbide shells – and dumps them in a box. He'll get to them later… Probably. Adam kind of gets the sense that he might object, but it'd probably just be complaining for the sake of complaining. A real rebel, this Whitesnake-looking guy.]

[Stepping back and folding his arms again, Adam prepares for what's looking to be a conversation. He snorts.] Is it that obvious?

[Putting up with the uniform, complying with this new regime– maybe it is. People'd be mistaken to think him some sort of lapdog, but they can think what they like. Either way, he's eventually going to get to the bottom of things (sooner rather than later, if he can help it.)]

[ yes, it is a messy thing, but it's the only thing worth being, as far as Andyr would say. he could have collapsed in on himself like Miray, decide he's here to do nothing but exist and try to make it as painless as possible, but then what's the point of him? what worth is in that, aside from furthering the people who happily enslave others? no, he isn't free, not even in a loose definition of it, given that he's literally being held prisoner back home, but he can at least say he's fought for himself.

if he isn't doing that, at the very least, not only is he enabling his captors, he's saying, in some small way, 'this is acceptable'. for a certain cost, this is acceptable. and he won't. not to insult his father's memory and his sister's. he doesn't know what happened to barnes, or who he was before, and while some part of him wants to just slap the complacency out of him, the rest realizes he has no place for it, like bucky had no place to tell him anything about his own experiences. it isn't like him talking to miray or alva - they're completely different worlds.

still, there's a respect for the man, simply for whatever he's been through and the fact he's still standing and making coherent commentary. not every has the fortitude for that. that's why he goes following after barnes without much question other than a quirked brow, fitting into the shadows with him and ducking his head some, and his voice lowers. ]

Then why play nice on the network? If it's leverage or punishment, you state that right out of the gate. Besides, what's she even mean to someone new like more or the others? [ if you're a tyrant, you start with an iron grip first off. sure, the rationing sucks, but it isn't knocking someone out and sticking them in cryo. besides, there's only so many tubes and too many crew. ] No, she was acting like she knew them. We need to figure out what really happened before, and what's up with that thing in lock down that freaks them out so much.

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Page 31 of 231

( august intro log )

wubs in the dark

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ii.

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HALLS AROUND THE REC AREA

08/05

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C3

Hallway

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I looked up how huge this guy is and holy shit he's like Ganondorf with a normal head

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sim room

guess you're just getting all the snakes! (hallways)

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it looks it, but it's all unsubstantiated rumor.

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