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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
[ life on mars ]
Not that he'd ever actually say anything like that.
Honestly, he's intrigued by the man's obvious skill at stealth, and also by that assault rifle. He spends some time carefully observing, weighing the pros and cons of making his presence known, but eventually decides to risk it. He almost senses something of a kindred spirit in the man, and for once he's willing to submit to his sense of curiosity. He's careful to make his approach obvious, and clears his throat politely before speaking.]
I've never seen a firearm quite like that before. Is it from one of the human manufacturers?
[Work work work...what a surprise it's the gun he asks about.]
no subject
Though, okay, this corner belongs to no one, and Venom isn't here to hog space— just here to make sure that his weapons have arrived in one piece. He finds it a bit amusing that space travel found it prudent to confiscate a man from his cigar, but not the lethal rifle that he could have used to shoot them all in the head. They have a startling sense of priorities, don't they.
Thane will have to suffer the initial surprise that he's sure to get from a few non-alien-accustomed humanoids on the ship, complete with slightly widened eyes and a subtle double-take. Mercifully, Venom is attuned to keeping his reactions dull at best, tight at worst, so he settles down with a silent inhale and exhale. ]
—There weren't any other manufacturers around. [ He can tell that Thane did his best to approach him without raising caution, so he extends the same half-courtesy with open body language and a step out from the shadows. ] Alien guns look different?
[ this is his best attempt at levity, sorry thane ]
no subject
And it's okay, friend, he's used to lame attempts at levity.
He's worked with Shepard for a while now.It's the thought that counts.]Not particularly. Guns tend to take the same general shape regardless of the designer.
[Unless the designer is an elcor, but, details.]
The one you have seems almost...antiquated...compared to the ones I'm familiar with.
[He honestly means the statement in the least offensive way possible.]
no subject
Strapping that rather cumbersome AK-47 analog back against his hip, Venom unclips his smaller, nonlethal handgun from his holster to hold out to Thane, if he wanted to get his hands busy with something. Or appreciate antiques, apparently. ]
Let me guess. You're from the year 2012.
[ He's from the 80s, please be gentle. ]
no subject
[He blinks as he processes the question, inner eyelids first, then outer.]
Ah. No.
[He blinks again at the proffered handgun, and professional curiosity urges him to accept...so, he does, taking it carefully in one hand, and immediately popping it open to inspect how it accepts ammunition.]
I believe the year as counted by humans is 2185, currently.
[It's as gentle as he knows how to be...sorry, friend.]
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His hand twitches, yet again, when he hears 2185. 2185. ]
—Right. Off by a century. [ Try century and a half, but. Whatever.
His bemusement is just as clear as his mild disbelief (not that he has any reason to doubt), but it's quickly replaced by some sort of neutral resignation. He shifts on his feet, and starts tucking all of his possessions back in their rightful places. ] Don't tell me what happens to the world.
no subject
What year was it?
[It must have been especially long ago, if 2012 was the far-off future this guy imagined.]
I'm assuming by "the world" you mean Earth?
[Nothing's happened to it, but if this guy doesn't want to know that, for whatever reason, Thane will politely withhold that information.
And, like the professional he is, he clicks the firearm closed again, gently but firmly, and holds it out, hilt first, to return it.]
Thank you.
no subject
A beat, to make sure that everything is in order, and Venom flits his single eye over his alien companion to see if he, in turn, has some sort of future tech that Venom can peruse. If anything, it'd probably be beneficial to know how some of the more advanced weaponry works. ]
Earth, yeah.
It was 1984.
[ So, yeah, he unironically listened to Hall and Oates and all those embarrassing things most people associate with their parents. Except Thane is far beyond that time, so he probably won't get all the David Bowie references to Venom's name.
He breathes a quiet exhale, as if he expects Thane to scoff. ]
no subject
There's no future tech on this guy, sadly for Venom. He's just your average strangely attractive lizard-man dressed in clingy, form-fitting black leather complete with both boob- and back-window. And tail coat tails, because he's extra classy like that.
He's left his guns in his other jacket, though, sadly, otherwise he'd return the courtesy. They did come along with him, though, so at some future
play-date for sure!]So long ago...Hm.
[David who? Sorry, Venom, if you want obscure pop culture references, you're going to have to talk to the Normandy's pilot, who sadly isn't present at this time.
In any case, there's no scoffing here, just keen interest. What in the world is going on in this bizarre place??]
It seems that the device that pulled us here is capable of bending time as well as space. I wonder how such a thing is possible...
[That's alarming for a whole buttload of reasons, none of which are going to be articulated at this time because this tag is pushing it in the length department as is.]
no subject
Despite being thoroughly defeated in the wardrobe division, there's something reassuring about the lizardman's even-temperedness, as if events like the apocalypse or being galaxies away from your home world is a strange blip in the radar. After dealing with people who treated everything like a minor catastrophe on a good day, Thane's quiet assessments are refreshing.
Venom doesn't have an answer to the question, but he does venture: ] From what I've read, it's also capable of bringing 'alternate versions' of yourself. [ A light exhale through his nose, near-exasperated. ] Let's hope we won't start seeing doppelgangers.
no subject
...I'm afraid that will be unavoidable. The name of the Systems Alliance Commander I've been working with is on the passenger list two and a half times.
[There are two Janes and one Jean on the passenger list. At first he'd thought it was probably just a case of three women having similar-to-identical names, but after a very thorough
stalkingperusal of the ship-board network, he's drawing some altogether very different conclusions.]I wish I could say with certainty that such a thing won't cause a problem, but it's a bit early yet to tell for sure.
no subject
He blinks up at Thane, clearly disarmed by the idea of having to deal with two and a half versions of his own CO. And he thought he had it rough. ]
...Let's hope your CO doesn't have any ego problems.
[ Venom is quite literally the worst person in the world to be giving advice about being a double of someone else, BUT. You have to be at least Level 50 in Social Rankings to unlock his Saturday-morning-cartoon level convoluted backstory, so he's just going to continue playing this cool.
However, he empathizes. ]
no subject
[Which is putting it mildly. But Thane is nothing if not the master of understatement!
He does speak his next remark with just a tiny hint of a smile, though:]
As I said, it's a bit early to know for sure. I'm sure the wait to find out won't be a prolonged one, however.
no subject
They're all looking for you?
[ He can imagine how that'd go, this poor, well-mannered alien being pulled every which way.
He might want to stick around to watch, if only to see if Thane will be truly troubled by that. ]
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They don't know I'm here, yet.
[ And that's the way it's going to stay for the time being. At least until he has a chance to observe all of them a bit more. ]
I prefer to simply keep an eye on them, for now.
[ He's got to determine which one - if any of them - is his Shepard.]
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He sets that aside, keeps his tone neutral. Projecting doesn't seem like the right thing to do, here. ]
Gonna be hard to avoid them.
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[It might even almost be fun, if it weren't for the unfortunate reality of their current situation.]
In any event, I can't imagine I'll be avoiding them for very long.
[A few days, perhaps. A week at the most. Probably.]
...How did they even get on this subject, anyway? Time to steer the conversation I away to less personal topics, like actual introductions, or the (space) weather. This grizzled gentleman was kind enough to let Thane look at his pistol, and he hasn't even introduced himself yet. Inexcusable.]
...I'm afraid my manners have gotten away from me. My name is Thane.
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But introductions have never been a forte for Venom, given that it's always been something to avoid or something that's done for him, so— a beat passes, one that's maybe in slightly good humor. ]
...'Manners', huh. [ You're a good guy, Thane. Another second here, for Venom to find his bearings concerning his name, and then: ] Call me Ahab.
I'll be sure to play dumb if anyone asks me about you.
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Ahab. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
[Manners!!! manners are important, ok ok. No one likes a rude assassin, u kno.
And "Ahab's" offer earns a small smile from Thane.]
Your discretion is appreciated, though I hope it will be unnecessary.
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I know a thing or two about people trying to hunt me down.
[ It's stated lightly, breezily, as a way to say 'I'm not talking about anything heavy'. Maybe a bit of commiseration, even. He knows what it's like to have fussy people breathing down his neck.
Speaking of. ]
—Got my own people that'd be looking for me by now.
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Have you, now?
[What a thing to have in common...Even so, it causes him to smile faintly. What a world...]
You may also be assured of my discretion, should you require it.