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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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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-08-01 12:13 am
b - medbay
[He's in one corner, and the sound of... growling...? is in another. Regardless, he glances over once or twice, while he wraps scrapes on his arms. The armor neatly stacked beside him.]
It is easier if you just go along with it, you know.
[He says, without giving the other man a second glance -- it's a man, right? Or maybe it's an ape like Winston. Hard to tell without another look.] The sooner they are done, the sooner we leave.
no subject
He's acutely aware of his own breath on the inside of his mask and counts along with inhales and exhales, reminding himself that there's no way Reinhardt will be able to know that it's him.
So he can't believe he's actually thankful for the nagging medbay staff. The poking and prodding isn't an adequate distraction, but it's enough for him to keep from looking over, checking to see if Reinhardt has even acknowledged him yet. In between questions about medical history that he refuses to answer, 76 plots an escape route--hopes that he finishes first and can make a discreet exit.
But he doesn't exactly get the chance, because Reinhardt speaks up after he accidentally lets a particularly disgruntled noise escape him. 76 is silent for a long moment after that, taking in a voice he last heard on television, reciting a eulogy.]
Didn't ask for your opinion.
no subject
[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?
no subject
[He tears his gaze away, training it on the floor, instead. That's much easier than facing him. Part of him just hopes that if he's as blunt and unreasonable as possible, that Reinhardt will give up on the conversation and he can slink off into some dark corridor somewhere.
But maybe it will be more suspicious if he's too overt about extricating himself from this situation. Surely 76 is known--he's all over the news.]
They want me to sign their contract.
[Said with the indication that he has no intention of doing so, even though he knows there's really no other choice.]
no subject
[He's finished wrapping things he can see. There are more superficial things he can't get to right now, but they can wait. So he finally turns to address the growling man behind him. And... quirks an eyebrow.]
[Well this is awkward. Should he know him? Maybe...? Has he seen him somewhere before?]
... I am Reinhardt.
[Probably the news. Had to be. That's the only place he ever really sees familiar faces anymore -- purely because the same footage gets replayed over and over again. In different languages.]
[Regardless, he extends a hand. He's not sure if it's going to be reciprocated, but he'll try.]
no subject
[That's out before he can stop himself, though he supposes it's not the worst thing in the world to say. Reinhardt is famous, celebrated. A vigilante digging around in old Overwatch facilities would logically know the more prominent agents by sight. Suspicious, maybe, but not really something to dwell on.
76 stares at the hand offered to him, but, predictably, doesn't take it.]
You Overwatch agents are hard to miss.
[Forcibly retired or not.]
no subject
You say that almost as if it were a bad thing.
[And... maybe it was, for some people. Maybe some people only remember the waning glory of Overwatch. When it was so much less than it should have been.]
no subject
At least, not the surface-level details.]
Just making an observation.
no subject
[But Hoooo boy he does not sound happy about this. He doesn't want to think about it, honestly. About the decline of something meant to be so good.]
[And fell. So hard.]
no subject
76 expects disappointment. The systematic dismantling of everything they'd built over the course of three decades ripped wounds in all of them. Some moreso than others, he assumes, and he knows that six years is too short a time for something like that to heal.]
Sounds like you want me to say so.
no subject
[All the more reason to keep going as he has been. To keep fighting the fight they were supposed to. The organization may be gone, but that doesn't mean the world doesn't need justice. That people don't need heroes.]
[The legion of new injuries he carries says that much.]
... It was not all bad. Even if the bad now shadows the good.
no subject
And that's not something he can afford, as much as he wants to tell Reinhardt that he's right. It wasn't all bad, of course, but he doesn't believe in what he used to, and can't reveal even that much.]
I figure it's a complicated issue.
no subject
[Even if this guy has as unfortunate intentions as it seems... if he is the face (mask, whatever) on the news... it won't hurt anything to try and paint a slightly less bad picture of the organization. However horrible it went in the end.]
[It wasn't all bad. And someone like him has to hang onto the good. Spread it how he can.]
Very complicated. And painful. It is not something I speak lightly of.
... so I will not bore you.
no subject
Sorry to bring it up.
[He needs to get out of here, too, before he says something he's going to regret. If that means he needs to be chased down with a contract, so be it. 76 slides off the exam table, ignoring protests from medbay staff as he collects his rifle and tries to leave--get somewhere, anywhere else.]
no subject
[He does, however, pause, and look back while the growling man gets huffed at and pushed about by the staff.]
... Let him go. If he has injuries, you can always bring him back later, ja?
[There you go, old man. An opening before you leave.]
no subject
It's harder than he thought it would be.]