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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?
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thisavrou_log2016-08-01 12:13 am
Carol | The Walking Dead | OTA, prose or brackets!
It's not that Carol considers herself an expert on the unique brand of disorientation that is being suddenly thrust into a strange, new world, but she's not entirely new to this. Teleios was pretty weird, magic flowers and memory crystals and wish-granting dreams, but at least here she's not on any godlike bad guys' radars. (Yet?) Besides, thanks to her friendship with Beverly Crusher, Carol's been given a bit of a leg up, knows a smattering about space-venturing technology and has the helpful visuals of Beverly's Enterprise to take the edge off the culture shock (even if, given the announcement, this place seems less like Beverly's idyllic world by the second). She will miss the cozy home she and the others made, both of them actually; and not having baby Judith here with them, or Rick or Maggie or so many others, is a kick in the gut, and she's not supposed to remember any of it, but she can't worry about all that just yet.
In fact, everything including shell shock seems to take a backseat when, from what she can figure out, new management comes in and shuts out the lights. She's lived in far worse conditions, but after the way things went down on the last world she's not such a fan of shifts in leadership. But, realistically, this all changes very little for someone who is just arriving. Nothing to do but gather information and go with the flow and hope she and her people can grapple a coherent plan before anything hits the fan. In the meantime, she makes sure to carry her few, precious belongings with her and to conceal her knives and gun, though they're always ready for action if necessary.
Short of an actual idea what to do, she falls back on planning and instinct. First priority is getting to know this place, the layout and schedule and, most relevant, the people. Who might be friendly and who might be a threat, what people might think about this apparently new dynamic, while trying to decide how much lying she's willing to do and/or needs to do about herself and her intentions. She learned a lot being in Teleios those two years, enough to wish she didn't have to mess with anyone's head to feel safe, but her instinct to pretend is far older than Teleios, and she might find herself falling into the habit or deciding it's just easier, given the situation here. Any guilt she feels about that will have to get in line, and it's a long queue.
[Explorations]
So, one step at a time, she sets about getting her bearings whenever she's not working, finding out what she can about the boundaries of this place. Finding her way to and from her room on the Nomo Deck, locating the mess hall and the galley because she'll have to figure out if she's even allowed to use the cooking facilities, the laundry where evidently she's folding for her bread, for now. To the rec area to find out if it's still usable, to the armory -- which she evidently can't enter without an appointment so she hangs around outside for a moment looking lost, trying to see what she can see. The training simulation room which looks both exactly like and nothing like what she expected (she'll need help figuring it out, assuming it's even still available for use with these power restrictions), strolling by the tattoo studio out of sheer amusement though she figures it's on the chopping block, if not already outright shuttered. The lounge to marvel at the giant TV that's apparently going to be useless, the safe space which she visits out of sheer curiosity about the title, only to flee with due haste once it seems to be full of counselors. Eventually she'll make it back to Medbay to find out if they need any help in there, considering her training and the, uh, gifts she picked up over the course of interdimensional travel, and it could be useful to have access.
Some of her time is spent on the observation deck, just because it's lovely and it doesn't seem to matter if the power's out. And because it's easy to small the horrors of her own life when compared to the beauty and vastness of space. And because standing there looking awed doesn't require any kind of falsehood or explanation.
Assuming there's no immediate threat or concern, her reaction will be similar to nearly everyone she comes across: a smile, tight and anxious but conciliatory in that way people feeling out of place tend to have when they want to reach out but are unsure where to begin. She gives up trying to discern whether this reaction is genuine or not very early on and just rolls with it; given the situation here, people probably have enough on their minds without thinking overly about the mental state of an obviously new and confused person. If she can just avoid stepping in any hornet's nests until Plans A through Q formulate, she'll be fine. Probably.
((OOC: Psyched newbie here! Carol has a very triggery canon history so I have an opt-out post up for anyone's concerns, or any reason at all you don't want me to tag you. Also, in a fit of horrible timing I am leaving tomorrow for a small vacation, I plan to tag as much as I can but if I am slow it is due to that and not lack of interest, and I shall backtag to the ends of time!))
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I assume we are going to be living together? I am Fareeha Amari.
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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!))
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Just this suit; I wouldn't know what to do with a plane if you gave me one. [She makes a little motion to the wing-like jump jets sitting on the backpiece of the armor. She picks an empty bed to set her helmet on and starts unclasping the gauntlets.] I'm with a private securities firm in my own world, but I don't know how much sway they have here. For the Moira I'm a messenger, apparently. What about yourself, Carol?
[She could tell the other woman was a little on edge, and did her pest to keep her movements smooth and non-threatening. She'd been in conflict, and had seen what it could do to other people.]
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[Even the niceness, while a relief, is a tad disconcerting, only because it reminds her of those she grew close to in some other dimension that she chose to leave, thinking she'd forget her time there. If she only knew she'd never make it home she would have stayed.]
They've got me working in the laundry. Which is fine, I guess. Back home... [she shrugs] I didn't really do much of anything. [This is at once true and a blatant lie. But what's she going to say, I killed people so they didn't kill me first? There wasn't really much of a world left to do anything in? Much as she doesn't feel a pressing need to hide any of that anymore, none of it is good small talk, and so long as she has to share a room with strangers then she may as well not have them wondering if she's going to kill them in their sleep. (Which she probably won't. Only if she has to.)]
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[She's currently dismantling her armor piece by piece and placing it carefully on the bed, taking herself down to the black undersuit. It was meant for operational use, not extended daily wear, and once unencumbered, she stretches and works out some knots.]
Have you been here long, or are you a new arrival like me?
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[If Carol sounds a little nervous, that's not an accident. She's digging a little, trying to figure out if her new roommate shares any of that feeling, but conveniently enough it's also honest.]
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[For now she tries to keep the conversation easy and casual, letting Carol dig where she may. She'll steer away from anything she doesn't want to talk about.]
Same. The world I came from had science labs on the moon but, nothing anywhere near as extravagant as this vessel. It's a little exciting, if you look past the unexpected nature.
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[Explorations] Med Bay
He managed to get his uniform on, but that was about the time he ran into Carol.
"Crap. Uh. I'm not really a doctor if that's what you're looking for."
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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!))
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Sam frowned a bit.
"…you've actually signed the contract, right?"
((OOC: Then you missed the great notif vanishing of 2016. I'm just now tagging on intro threads since I'm just now getting notifs for them XD;; It's all good either way <3))
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"Yeah. Getting dropped off somewhere didn't sound like it'd be a good idea." Seeing the frown, she makes a guess that maybe it's obvious that unhurt people peeking in here isn't exactly kosher, and quickly adds, "I was working in the infirmary at the last place I was at. They said something about reassignments in that announcement, so I guess I'm scoping the place out a little."
Curiosity, meddling, looking for familiarity in the weirdest way, all those also apply. But in this instance, if she's going to look suspicious then at least she can be honest. And she has the good grace to look mildly embarrassed. This doesn't seem like an offense that'd get her shoved out an airlock, so she figures it's worth the risk.
Not that she minds being assigned laundry so much, but as far as picking up useful information and skills -- and helping people, which she does want to do in spite of her paranoia and all her history telling her to just keep her head down and fly under the radar -- it's probably near the bottom of the list of desirable jobs.
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"I get that, but if you tell anybody that asks you didn't see anyone near the cryotubes that would make my life a lot easier."
You see, Carol, Sam doesn't care that you're new, or that you're not strictly supposed to be here. Smiles ,charm, and paranoia don't mean much when he's trying to unobtrusively duck out. The earlier frown, and the fidgeting stem from a dislike of hospitals, and the whole Med Bay area qualified.
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"Is that something people ask a lot around here?" Just so she's aware. Because if people are used to reporting where they saw who and when and whether they were on a list or something, then she wants to know that so she can be more careful before snooping in where she doesn't belong. If worse comes to worse, in here she can fake a headache or panic attack due to claustrophobia. Other places not so much, unless she wants to come off like a flake, which she'd prefer not to given the choice.
Glancing around, she wonders if maybe she should get out of here, herself.
maybe a day or two after tdm thread?
It's strange, though-- it's been a long while since they weren't all together in one place, so he tries to keep up with the rest of his group as best he can.
Which leads to him knocking on Carol's door, silly as that feels to have to do.
sounds good!
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."
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Seeing her in the midst of a task doesn't take him by surprise; nor does he make the mistake of buying it for a second. She wouldn't dare seem so casual if she wasn't on guard, but there's nothing new about that. Leaning against the wall as the door shuts, he crosses his arms.
"Too bad 'm dead broke."
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"How's yours?" His room, she means. Down the hall with his own pack of strangers, away from each other and all the comforts they're used to, that she came to rely on to keep her from screeching off the rails. She's not as worried about Daryl as about herself slipping and reverting back to things she wants nothing to do with, and nothing about this is sitting comfortably.
Quite frankly, knowing he's all right will do a lot toward calming her nerves, and of course he knows that, so she'll have to try and decide how honest his answer is once she hears it. At least he's probably not sleeping in the corridor like he told her about that first night in the Temple.
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"Ain't so bad," he reasons, crossing to stand before her, too restless yet to think of sitting. "Real live aliens an' everything."
No, he's not sleeping in the hallway. He's not really sleeping well, either, but it could be a lot worse. All that time in Teleios-- he hates to think of it as going soft, but he's gotten a little better at coping with strangers. Straight out of home he'd probably have locked himself in a closet somewhere already.
"You holdin' up all right?"
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When he asks the question she knew was coming, she almost says it: Sure I am. The words are right there, along with a smile as fake as it is convincing. Being in this new, strange place has all her old instincts fighting their way to the surface. So far she's been mostly successful at holding them back by remembering all the reasons she shoved them aside in the first place, with a few slips here and there. Looking at Daryl makes it easier, since she can still feel the heavy thud of that falling tree and it's strong enough to overcome the paralyzing what ifs that took her over.
Instead, she looks down, at her folded hands which are resting in her lap. "About as you'd expect." He knows her, especially after watching her those years in Teleios as she battled back her impulse to block everyone out and finally found a place she could call home, but even before that he'd have known she wasn't fine. That she takes the loss too hard, that she can't stand the newness of everything and everyone, that if she were allowed she'd have made a stack of baked goods a mile high. But, after those years in Teleios, she at least admits the truth instead of skillfully dodging the question. Logically, she knows there's no use regretting making their choice to leave, and if there was a chance of getting back home to support their people then she's glad they took it, no matter what private hell she'd be reverting back to. Knowing how things ended up, though...
Everything here reminding her of Beverly really isn't helping, either. It wasn't just a goodbye, it was Carol volunteering to toss aside all the memories they made, all the effort it took to become so close not once, but twice. She had always wished she could say a proper goodbye to someone just once, but it was horrible. There's just no good way to lose what they lost, she knows that, doesn't need reminders or consolation; what she needs, she has learned, is time, and unfortunately it's not much of a comfort just yet.
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explorations | rec area
He's getting off the treadmill when Carol shows up, heading over to the pool. It's not heated right now so he doesn't get in, he just kicks off his shoes and rests them in the water. Looking over at Carol, he nods in greeting.]
You lost?
[He hasn't seen her before, and from the way she's looking around he just assumes she's new.]
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Maybe a little, [she admits, looking only slightly sheepish.] I might as well be wearing a sign that says I'm new, huh?
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Just the way you're looking around at everything. Plenty of people do it when they first get here. Not a bad thing.
[Though they'll have plenty of time to get to know the place, Boone still thinks it's smart to get your bearings as soon as you can. Especially considering all the trouble they run into here.]
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I've never been on a ship like this, or in space. So it's all very... [she makes an inarticulate motion. You know, shocking, new, awe-inspiring, upsetting. Pick a few adjectives.]
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Yeah. Me neither. Been here a few months now, but... I don't know if I'll ever get used to it.
[At least, not completely. Sometimes he feels like he has, but then he catches a glimpse of what's outside the ship and he's in awe all over again.]