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!

I
N
T
R
O

L
O
G

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

[ watching alva in the medbay isn't really strange, aside from the fact people are actually talking to him normally and giving him decent respect. watching val in the medbay? hilarious. not to mention, a good distraction from the fact he's in the fucking medbay, but in these first few days, andyr's a little too tense to want to leave them on their own at all. at least, not when he doesn't have to be gone for work or, you know, eating. and sure as hell not in a fucking lab, like this one, surrounded by strangers who are mostly all doctors of some kind.

currently, he's occupied with neither work or eating. instead, andyr's sitting backwards in one of the lab tech's rolly chairs, arms folded on the rim of the chair back, chin set on top, as he s l o w l y creep-rolls after val everywhere he goes, silent.

and reaches out to rearrange things he's just been through when he isn't looking.

oops. ]

Are you all right?

[Here he is, repeating himself slowly and patiently. Because maybe this one is a bit... damaged in the head. Or just spacing out. Probably just spacing out.]

[Regardless, he has no trouble repeating himself as many times as it takes.]

[Zam nods quickly. At least the man understands -- is willing to understand -- that much. Of course, there’s still the matter of the gun pointed at her. Zam’s usually quite good at talking her way out of these situations -- and shooting out of them, to be entirely honest. However, the former is now impossible and the latter is undesirable. There’s a pause as she tries to think of another way to convince him.

She settles for charades because there isn’t much left to her at this point. She reaches out (again, slowly) and places her free hand on the arm holding her blaster. Then, she mimics pushing the arm down with her hand, lowering the blaster just a fraction of an inch. She nods towards his own gun.

They should both lower their weapons.]

[ Venom watches Kaz go for a second, as if he's unsure whether that 'come on' was meant for him or the dogs, then decides that the former probably holds true.

Getting up out of his chair, he follows Kaz through the dim halls of the Moira. Strangely enough, the dark doesn't bother him; it reminds him of the poor lighting in some areas of Mother Base, those black-steel walls and pipes winding, labyrinthine. ]

[Mettaton would likely correct Lucio at least once before losing his patience--he'd done the same for the spacefarers who called him a "droid." Either way, he's genial enough, and finds the human's flair to be quite refreshing.

It even makes him behave much more genuine than he has been.]

Wonderful to make your acquaintance, Lucio dear! I am Mettaton, and I'm more than willing to assist you in any radio-based endeavours!! I admit, I've been aching to get something started!!!

[Mettaton gives a toothy grin, a hand on his robotic hip. Friend, he likes you.]

Thank God. Some of the relief is visible in those broad shoulders, even though his expression is still subdued. Hard not to be, when faced with this subject. He holds up his hands, though, to forestall the apologies coming.

"Genji, it is nothing," he says, shaking his head. "It is past, and your trouble was... it was really nothing."

In comparison to betraying all of Overwatch, Reyes. Yeah, safe to say he still harbors a great deal of resentment toward his former comrade.

But hopefully, Genji knows to brace himself -- because no sooner does he rise from the bow than he's getting another crushing hug. Because there's nothing to forgive. Not in Reinhardt's mind. "Of course, my friend. Of course."

[76 is, unfortunately, both stubborn and unreasonable. His expression isn't discernible through his visor, but the tops of his eyebrows are visible, and they're clearly pinching together. It seems he has no intention of yielding to this small spherical robot.

He's going to nudge it with his boot. Nudge nudge.]

Edited 2016-08-03 07:27 (UTC)

[ truthfully, maine had meant to stop several feet away from garrus. he doesn't know if he has a weapon, after all, doesn't know who on this ship is dangerous or a threat to him, and he's in no condition to fight after so recently losing sigma. still, despite his relatively good intentions, his feet clearly had other ideas: he stands much too close, as if he and garrus are old friends, one hand braced against the wall so he doesn't wobble off accidentally in the opposite direction and the other hand held loosely at his side, palms open, fingers spread.

the guy's tall, is his first thought. maine doesn't even have to incline his head to look him in the eye.

too bad he's also useless, is his second. garrus shrugs, and that's about the same time that maine stops listening to him talk ( thanks for nothing, feet; you picked the wrong guy ). he sighs, irritated, and pushes himself off the wall, staggering backwards for several seconds before he wheels around on his heel and zigzags down the corridor toward the next intersection. there's gotta be someone else he can talk to, a nearby passenger who's been aboard the moira for longer than five minutes and who doesn't want to stick him with needles.

garrus might think he's in the clear, might step away from the wall the second that he thinks maine is gone, and he'd be wrong. maine gets halfway across the hall before he stops suddenly and aggressively pivots around again, four long strides carrying him right back into garrus' face. ]

btw

[ tap tap tap. this time, he sends the messages directly to garrus' mid. ]

what even are you

[ This is why they'd get along; no one wanted to stay confined to a bed, IV or not. Definitely not Elena. She was just too stubborn. ]

Oh, this? [ She glances at her right arm and gives a one-shouldered shrug. That was a story for another time. Elena smiles again, not too worried. ] It's been there for a while now. But nice try on changing subjects.

Would you like me to call over a nurse? I could see about hunting down Dr. Arbuckel for you; he's got impeccable bedside manners and I can guarantee you'll walk out of here feeling like a million bucks. He's been taking care of me on and off for some time now so I know from personal experience that he won't bite.

[ Unless given a reason to. ]

Edited ( needed to change wording :>) 2016-08-03 07:35 (UTC)

[If he were a different man, he would take offense to the tone. Or the words. If he were younger, he would also feel the same. But Reinhardt is neither of those things. He's heard worse, after all.]

[It rolls off the back. And he ends up shaking that big, shaggy head, almost in reproach.]

[There's... an odd sort of tension in the air, suddenly. Like a weight hanging in the room. It wasn't there a moment ago, and he can't help but wonder why. Maybe it means this individual is dangerous. But... who isn't, under the right circumstances? He isn't too worried.]

Only offering advice.

[It's mild enough -- especially coming from someone as big and loud as he usually is. And then he's stretching his shoulders, rolling them slightly while they pop.]

If you are not badly injured... they should let you go soon, eh?

Yo. [ a head of dark, messy hair pops up from the other side of the Girl's book pile, brows quirked up in interest. ] Can I trade you?

[ for one of these books, he means, and andyr picks up his own pile of discards to spread out for her. in all honesty, the captains and this whole place does put him ill at ease, but just the fact he's in a library, instead of locked in a cell or strapped to a lab table means he's a few miles past better than where he was. it doesn't make the distrust of those in command or the ship as a whole any less, but it does make andyr eager to take advantage of small freedoms where he can. like reading all the books her wants. ]

I got... one on elephants, another on fighter jets, aaand some space cookbook. [ a finger lifts, pointing at one book in the stack. ] For your shark one there.

[Mettaton might cite the old adage of "it's rude to stare," but to be honest, he does like attention. And although he's a little more morose these days, he chooses to turn this into a positive. Out of habit, he straightens up into a loose, sassy pose.

Attention hog. Still, he's polite and extends a hand to take Vision's in a firm handshake.]

Welcome to the Moira then, Vision!! It's certainly an experience! But enough about the ship, right? My name is Mettaton and I assure you, the pleasure is entirely mine!"

[Oh. He's overcompensating again, isn't he? Well no! He means it!!]

[He puts the little fluffy girl down in his room when they reach it, closing the door when V comes in. It's a single barrack, now. Utilitarian since he grabbed whatever loose furniture he could. A dresser, a bed, some folded blankets on the floor for the dogs, and the rest an open area of floor too large for him.]

[There's an umbrella propped up against the dresser. On a hanging rack, a bespoke suit, his Diamond Dogs uniform, some other dressy clothes of varying era (a little futuristic).]

[He rifles through one of the dresser drawers and pulls out some photographs, most of them like the ones brought back from salvaged, roaming MSF soldiers. But there are plenty of others. And then from beside the dresser, he picks up one of two guitars. An acoustic one. After handing off those pictures he holds it up.]

This actually came in the mail. Sometimes the objects that show up are random. This is my old guitar.

[He can't trust V to remember. But maybe he knows how much that means to Kaz.]

I can still play. Turned out my muscle memory held on. You have any songs you like? I could try one.

...I won't sing.

[He promises. He's not much in the mood for singing anymore, anyway. But playing he can do.]

[ It occurs to Venom, finally, that this might not be the door to his own room, which is actually the one right next door: Nomo 024.

He pauses, looks up at the plaque that reads '22', then glances to the one emblazoned several feet away.

Ah. ]

...I'm 24, not 22. [ He's not above admitting to his mistakes, which he does with some degree of grace. A tip of his head, to indicate apology. ] Got close.

[Okay, the staring's weird. She takes the opportunity to examine the woman more closely - not someone from her dossiers or from the vids with Shepard - then sits up at being called by Shepard's first name. People who call her Jane usually do so from the network, but she hasn't commented, let alone posted for a while.]

I prefer Shepard, but yes. [Beat.] And you are...?

[ of the people andyr's seen here, it probably says something about him that the little girl holding a handgun and covered in blood and guts is the most normal and trustworthy thing he's encountered thus far. familiar, honest. it's been a few days since showing up for him - and all that bullshit with the space jelly fish and the fucked up depression pool - and still, he can't seem to get comfortable with just how nice and accommodating people here are. the first instinct is the voice in the back of his head screaming 'they're hiding something'.

he'd come to the ingress half just out of curiosity when he'd heard new people were pouring out. half maybe looking for someone familiar. it's the little girl packing heat that he finds, asking specifically about a baby. frowning, he's shaking his head, too reminded of Florens, and all the kids he'd found there when he went to get Alva and Miray's son back. even if the ship is a whole fuck ton safer than any House back home, there's still a deep worry for any kid left alone here. let alone infant. ] No, I haven't. I just got here, though. Let's look.

[ waving a hand, for her to follow, andyr's shoving through some of the other confused newcomers, eyes skimming the ground, people's arms, and glancing at any baby-sized bags people might be carrying. ] Watch your feet, there's a baby missing!

Yes, well...

[Something horrible suddenly occurs to Leo]

Wait! It's-- not a prank, is it? There are really jobs here, right? It's not... a trick?

[Well, now that this particular hurdle-slash-misunderstanding is out of the way, he seems a little more amenable to talking. Or charades, as it were.

Still, he's jumpy, and he flinches again when she moves, even if she makes an effort to do it slowly. But 76 still has some modicum of trigger discipline, and he manages to keep himself under control long enough to pick up what she's putting down. That is, the weapons.

Slowly, reluctantly, he lowers the muzzle of his rifle, but only as far as she drops her own firearm.]

Take it you're not supposed to be like that.

[It's a guess, really. Maybe she is--76 has seen a lot of strange things, after all, but the way it looks seems wrong, almost. Impractical. Like it was never intended to function.]

[Thanks, big intimidating guy. Don't mind this shorty squinting up at you, he's roughly five foot two and looks easily tossable.]

Well... a little! But I was actually trying to find my room, on the Nomo deck....

[He's staring (or well, as one as one can stare with his eyes closed) in Venom's direction as if hoping that he will realize he's in the way without Leo having to tell him. Is that going to happen? No, it will not]

[ Andyr recognizes the kid from Alva's room - he'd been in and out a few times, maybe swung on the beds a little, maybe took over Alva's for a nap or five. Time's screwy when you're in space so it's possible he missed him more often than not, but he had marked him in his head as 'that kid that lives with Alva'. 'Stiles' was the name on the directory. Stiles seems to have some anxiety issues. Or muscle spasms. Or both.

He's been standing out here, leaned against a wall, chewing on his last bit of rations, watching Stiles slam into one person before the next before the next before the next, and eventually, Andyr decides to actually talk to him. Rather than just creepily stare.

Moving out into the middle of the hall, he places himself directly in Stiles' path, and waits. Doesn't move, just waits, until the teenager slams right into his chest, and Andyr's hand shoots out to grab the front of his shirt, to keep him from busting his ass, as Andyr tends to be the kind of sturdy one associates with a brick wall. Once the flailing finally ceases and he feels like he's gotten his attention, there is a bit of sagely advice imparted: ]

Your eyeballs. Use them.

[ "Short on patience". The sentiment is certainly understandable given their current situation, but it seems like Adam is handling it remarkably well if the only thing to suffer his impatience is a toy karaoke microphone. Venom is confident that those synthetic enhancements aren't just for snapping plastic in half, and he's almost tempted to ask if those are normal where Adam comes from, but he refrains from prying right out of the gate. He knows that comments about not-so-human appendages can get old.

Blood-red fingers pick up another cylinder, sets it down when he identifies it as some sort of novelty pen. The next item he finds is a vial of foul-smelling cologne.

He's not sure why the captains even bothered confiscating some of these. ]

—Speaking of patience. [ Help a guy out, Adam. ] I'm looking for an electronic cigar.

[ Yes, he came all the way down here, listened to the Sailor Moon song for 30 seconds, engaged this poor guy in awkward conversation, just for his smokes.

He is incredibly earnest about this. ]

Admittedly usually we end up running into hostiles during pit stops. But a particularly vengeful surviving portion of a planet's population came to try and wipe us out for something old crew did to them. They boarded and attacked.

This just happened last month, so...

[He returns to his note taking, marking this area as another place that's mostly dark. More relaxed, since he's fairly sure he's not going to be shot now.]

What kind of gun is that?

[That's important, too.]

Something about something stored on the ship.

[ she'd said 'the', and andyr'd assumed that meant some kind of device or piece of cargo, not an entity, and he hasn't really gone back through the network to seek this stuff out.

andyr's frowning for a moment, trying to remember the word. it was strange sounding, foreign. ]

Polysomething? Ploymus? Ployato?

[ It's a gesture Andyr knows. Reaching to waist or thigh, or under arm when something spooks you. It's looking for a weapon, and he squints a moment at the man, judgments churning in his head, but he doesn't move. Eventually, there's a shrug offered. ]

I dunno. Does it feel like you won?

[ If he knew what the fight was, maybe he'd have a better answer, but he doesn't, so that seems decent enough. ]

[No answer. No words at all, in reassurance or alarm. Nothing but the tap of keys, short and steady, and it's the echo more than anything that solidifies the dread. Arid would answer. Tersely, obliviously, with denial or annoyance or a focused disregard for anything besides her human, but even at her worst, she would say something in return.]

Oh no.

[The words are much too small. Input completes, a small prompt flashing up on the screen requesting a Domesticon employee number. It doesn't matter whose number is supplied-- what face he chooses to take on this time. It's not Arid, and there's only one other person it could be.]

...no, no, no, stop it, please--please don't--!

[Sharp. Frantic. Helpless, terrified, already choking in a wash of static.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 51 of 231

( august intro log )

medbay sort of idk i do what i want

HE IS LARGE

no subject

no subject

I need to learn the code for the accented u but it's 3 lol

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

library!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

i!

no subject

no subject

fight me

halls!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject