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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
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First things first. He settles down on one of the chairs, immediately raising a brow when Mama takes that as an opportunity to explore his lap with excited nudges of head-to-knee. ]
Setting some facts straight. [ He breaks eye contact with Kaz to sift his fingers back through thick fur again, indulging the insistent whines for attention. ] I was here before. Anything I should know about with respect to that?
[ Another way to phrase this question is 'how many people know who I am', but he's sure Kaz can put two and two together. Especially considering that he was here when Big Boss was also around, presumably— hard to miss two identical-looking people walking around. ]
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He talked about himself a lot.
[Yes, some people know.]
[He decides in his infinite wisdom to not mention the Ocelot thing. Probably for the better. It wasn't with this man, after all.]
He didn't do that much. There was a prison station that made him hallucinate. And... he tried to help me, still. Started having nightmares.
He actually showed up before he knew who he was. At the same time as Big Boss, so I confronted Big Boss and made him go talk to him. [As much as one can "make" Big Boss do anything.] DD showed up a few weeks later and that's what happened.
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How many times is this going to happen? How much of himself will be left after each hard-reset?
His hand stops and rests on Mama's head, temporarily suspended mid-motion. Scarred lips knit together, expression emptying before working into something more convincingly present. ]
Right. [ If he sounds a bit more clipped, well. ] Can't help what the others already know. I'll be discreet with the rest.
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[He can tell something about that hit him. The way it's clipped, the way his mouth knits, his hand pauses on the dog's head. Something about that bothered him.]
And you can say so. People can't judge you for what he's mentioned. I'll get your back.
[But he told some people himself, in his rage, in his anger, in his loss. Just a few people though. Discrete ones, some that he trusted that wouldn't wield it like daggers. But this loss happened to Venom, not him, and he has to do his best that it doesn't haunt the man more than necessary.]
Big Boss went by Ishmael and you went by Ahab. It's easy enough to choose a different name of preference.
But... There's another complication relating to that. [And he says that like he wants Snake to prepare for something else "big".]
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Self-pity is unbecoming, and Venom doesn't draw on it. That's never been a priority to him, but being yanked from one trajectory to another is admittedly difficult: from 'from here on out, you are Big Boss' to 'choose a name you prefer'.
He sets that thought aside, carefully pats the dog looking inquisitively up at him to assuage her curiosity. ]
Go on.
[ Perhaps a bit frustratingly, he provides no input regarding what he's going to do about himself. But this "complication" seems more important. ]
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There are two other Snakes here. Liquid and Solid. You know one, but as "Eli". They're the adult versions of the twins, from our future. Solid is actually one of my students. Almost the spitting image of John.
[He's not even used the name "John" for Big Boss in front of Ocelot. The way it was given to him, it felt like some kind of secret. But he's made a point to hide as little as possible (except for that excitable venture into restaurant chains) from this man. So he lets himself.]
That face is pretty common around these parts. You can be Venom Snake if you want. Or just another Snake. That's fine. [He reaches out and settles his hand over his forearm, letting it rest there. A fake hand, though glove covered, on another artificial arm.]
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He would laugh if any part of him remembered how to do that. Instead, he turns his head to the man currently trying to comfort him with a hand to his forearm, ghost on metal. ]
This is bound to get confusing for the others.
[ AGAIN, he's not going to talk about himself, because that's still a pile of question marks that he has to sort through on his own time. Big Boss, the twins, another 'him'.
Pragmatism helps. Moving forward, that helps.
He relaxes his tight-lipped expression in increments, finally manages to properly look at Kaz with something resembling gratitude. ]
Am I gonna have to limit my interactions with the Snakes?
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So when people react to their being different Snakes, it's more like you're in the same family of specialists.
[Most people seemed to understand it that way.]
I have a friend, Jim Barnes. An alternate version of himself is here. There have been several multiples. No one should react.
[When the world gets complicated, people start accepting it as generally weird and move on.]
What else can I help you with. [Give him things to do, something to explain so he feels helpful.]
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It's looking like his main issue remains the all-pervasive one. It's really the only question he needed to ask, really. ]
Any progress on getting back to our world?
[ Back to base, back to their false Outer Heaven. Back to the mission. ]
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We stopped at a world with an Ingress. But it was also broken. I managed to go back to Costa Rica for a while. [This was one of his more terrible decisions.] I took some reminders with me when I left. If you want to see some of them.
[A ton of terrible decisions, where he got into his own jeep for some of his possessions. And when someone asked him who he was? He claimed to be his own older brother before leaving. That particular Miller probably had a hell of a disappointment that he didn't catch up to him, maybe even got the idea that he still had family out there somewhere.]
[Nice work, Miller.]
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Venom's expression turns a touch wry, imperceptible if not for the way his eyepatch moves just slightly at the movement of eye and lips. ]
Fine.
[ Not accusatory, not sarcastic. Just a neutral affirmation, maybe a silent warning that he won't have much meaningful input to give. ]
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[He wonders if Snake is aware of how much unintentional obfuscation he uses.]
Come on.
[He reaches down and actually picks up Joy, hefting her up so that her big husky paws are on his shoulder and carries her out of the room. Mama follows at a trot, wagging her tail.]
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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. ]
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[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.]
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He takes the liberty of pulling up a chair for himself, because they're both past the juncture of having to be polite and asking for permission. If there's still some degree of awkwardness, it's mostly because Venom is still adjusting to the idea that Kaz has absolved him of... whatever he needed to be absolved of. His XO may have had several months' worth in space to come to terms with some of their faulty cogs, but Venom is still working through them, seeing where the teeth don't align.
Regardless, he takes those photos from a gloved hand and sifts through them. Soldiers lounging on baked sand, a blurry shot of homemade gallo pinto, a black blob that was most likely intended to be a still shot of an antsy cat.
He sees the memories in double vision, rendered from two different angles. It doesn't detract from the quiet wave of fondness that he still nurses, somewhere in the pit of his stomach; the ashes of an angel of peace, swimming in the bottom of his subconscious.
He doesn't look up from the sepia-burnt snapshots between his fingers, but he does manage to make a request. ]
—'Wild Horses'.
[ The Stones, a song pre-coma. He's sure Kaz will appreciate that more than a song he's come to know after he's come to. ]
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[Some older part of him remembers people requesting that at loud birthday parties, when he'd sing in accompaniment and couldn't remember half the lyrics because he was drunk. Luckily there were always people singing louder that drowned out the sound.]
[At least he'd never let it fade completely in the nine year expanse between the MSF and the "success" of the Diamond Dogs. He'd not play at parties, but play quietly for himself. When his arm was gone, that's when the last shred of music in him was silenced.
He tells himself that but dopey birthday parties tell differently.][He plays it well. He's been practicing here. Trying to cling to that old part of him, even if he's slowly giving up on everything else. Mourning that sunny, beaming man he used to be as dead, accepting something else took his place. Venom missed a hell of a midlife crisis (good for him).]
Things are a little different, now. This captain changeover is actually a little bit worrisome. [He talks shop as he strums his fingers across the strings.]
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The notion is enough to lift Venom's gaze from those photographs, for that single eye to follow the trajectory of translucent fingers over a vaguely familiar, slightly-battered instrument.
For a vague, unhelpful moment, he wonders if 'Medic' would have had something to say about Kaz's playing. ]
Regime changes usually are. [ Please do not point out the irony in this statement, Kaz Miller. It seems awkward to talk shop during this attempt at nostalgia, but thus is life; always moving forward. ] Fill me in.
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[In a small moment of playing an old song with new hands in front of a person that only has seen him play before in muddled memory, he really just wants Snake to be proud of him. But is to ridiculously ignorant of himself to realize that's what he wants.]
[But hey, free song.]
The old captains obviously weren't a part of a formal crew. According to them, they found the ship and as of the laws of this region it gave them claim and precedence. Even if it used to belong to these captains, it's technically theirs now.
But... we were attacked very recently because of a theft these last captains were probably behind. Happened before my time, but the situation became so complicated a whole planet was destroyed.
[Which is slightly more vexing than a few extra Snakes.]
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Maybe that was Kaz, too— who knows.
Venom leans against the wall, lets the cold of the metal seep into his tired muscles. The Moira is a poor substitute for Pequod, but it'll do for now. ]
A whole planet.
[ That's definitely more than he bargained for, and possibly way too much to digest right now. But for professional reference, he notes it and doesn't change expressions save for a quick quirk of a brow. ]
That doesn't exactly inspire faith.
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No. It doesn't. Especially when the survivors came after us, even though most of the ship's crew hadn't been directly involved. I ended up protecting a couple of kids the whole time.
Which they didn't care about. There were children and they wanted to go after the lot of us. [He says it in contempt, something V probably knows very well of him.]
Been doing what I can though, Boss. I keep track of the places we go, forms of currency we use, I've been stockpiling- speaking of which do not use the gold lighters in my drawer, those are incendiary grenades.
I've done a lot of prepwork [again] so now that you're here [back?] you'll have whatever you need.
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What's remained constant is Kaz's knack for keeping all of their ducks in a relative row. Venom's almost tempted to tell his XO to ease the tension in his shoulders, to take some time to get himself in order before he launches into preparations for a man who's absent from his life, but.
Too late. All he can do is be grateful for his friend's ambitiousness, despite the apology that's laced somewhere in that sentiment. ]
Give me what you have, and I'll take care of the rest. [ This, delivered with conviction. If there's one thing Venom can be certain of, it's that he'll execute whatever mission he's tasked with. ] —Give yourself a break, Kaz.
[ His prosthetic reaches and places itself between Kaz's shoulderblades, patting once, twice. A silent I'll handle the heavy lifting. ]
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[He does play the guitar in the gardens a lot though.]
[He stops playing and looks down at it, and back up at Snake. Drums his fingers on the body of it.]
I could show you the gardens too. They should be fine, even with the ship running at low power. [Says a man that's probably a little too eager to spend time with his commanding officer again. He's been giving him a serious rundown of ship functions and trying not to talk about his distracting emotions. When Venom's hand drops away from his back he grabs at the prosthetic with his clear hand, false fingers wrapping around artificial knuckles. A little worried that he's going to call the business completed and just go.]
Boss... Got a couple of other things to show you.
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(Hypocrite.)
He glances down at the additional weight on his prosthetic, adjusts to the curl of his joints under the curl of Kaz's new hand. It's true, he was considering leaving to get briefed from Ocelot (and incidentally find his dog, his precious dog son), but, well.
His weight settles on the bed, hand staying put under his XO's. The remaining one carefully sets his borrowed photographs aside, though not without another quick glance at one on the top of the pile— an unfamiliar, pale-blond boy, on worn paper stock. ]
—More, huh. Fine, I'll take a look.
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Had to ask Big Boss to carry a kid back to his room, so he drew some pictures of him. Apparently he reminded him of a species back on his world.
[He pulls out another set of pictures, print-outs of what look like crayon art. And shows Venom that particular one. No, it couldn't wait. Because he needs to show him that things aren't exactly hopeless. Which is probably a completely novel concept to him; it certainly has been for Miller. Even if it's just in the form of a silly drawing.]
[The one that follows it is a little more bewildering, possibly a potato with a cigar? Who knows.]
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[ Alright, give him a second to look at this tiny boy distinctly missing a pair of aviators to identify himself with. The back-and-forth seesaw of his focus from photograph to XO isn't exactly subtle; count this as another thing that's taken him off-guard today.
But here's Kaz, shoveling more things for him to baffled by onto his plate. Firstly, why is this here, and secondly, what... just, what???
What??? ]
...Kid's not much of an artist. [ HE WENT THERE... HE WENT THERE ]
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