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!

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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?

( ooc; For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )

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[It's pure reflex, the way Raiden shrugs off her hand on his shoulder, almost before she makes contact with him at all. He's pissy, confused, and trying to take some time to get his head together before he starts dealing with his room assignment and work and whatever else-- being touched by a stranger is kind of the last thing he wants right now.]

I'm fine. [He's not, but he'll manage.]

[But-- oh. She's being nice, isn't she? Raiden turns to face her properly. Kind of trying to be nice in return, but he doesn't quite manage to strike that tone.] Are you okay?

[why are you here helping a bunch of strangers if you just turned up, it's weird]

[ Her hand lingers close even as he shrugs her touch away, but in those short few moments, she's given him a once-over recognizes cybernetics when she sees them and it turns into seeking out "damage" instead of "wounds". The fusion of the metal to his jaw is especially impressive. That took a certain level of skill, especially depending on how far it went— to keep his vocal chords intact and to seal properly. Her brows draw up apologetically when her touch had been unwelcome and she'll withdraw her hand without scorn, voice gentling even further. ]

I don't think that's true for anyone; that was a rough journey. On some more than others. [ Her accent is distinctly European (Swiss, to be exact), a little more cadenced and musical than German but similar enough. Nothing in her tone is accusing or even spoken with a measure of disbelief; it's almost like she's just making conversation. When he turns the question back on her, however, she'll smile. ]

The nausea's passed; the best thing I could be doing right now is making sure everyone else is doing fine. Thank you for asking.

[ Yeah she's not leaving. ]

[She's just so... Nice. It immediately sets Raiden on edge — no one is that nice. Not without an agenda. — His first thought is that she's with TRIDENT, but how would they follow him out here? Maybe this whole ship is a TRIDENT facility, it wouldn't exactly be a shock.]

[Raiden eyes her a little warily; one part cornered animal, two parts assessing. He takes stock of her armor, her accent, anything immediately obvious about her, but there's nothing familiar. Nothing that sets off alarm bells in his mind. He still can't help but be suspicious though.]

So you're new too. [There's a hesitance in his voice, like he's not entirely sure what he actually wants to say.] Who are you?

[ Angie recognizes an assessment when she receives one and she lets him look her over as blatantly as he likes, not that it will turn up much. Her suit is largely as borderline protective as possible to reduce weight; some light plating over the vitals and then her arms which would take the most damage if she had to protect herself, the rest a protective mesh that would help defend against shrapnel but not bullets. The most unique aspect of her Valkyrie suit are the wings affixed to the back, idly producing a glowing yellow exhaust like the heat off of asphalt. No smell, no particles, no chemicals— likely a product of her nanotechnology research.

She maintains her easy demeanor, relaxed under his gaze even as she realizes she's being picked apart. It almost feels like something that is necessary for him. ]

I am, yes. I arrived about... an hour ago? Perhaps? It's difficult to say. [ Patience is a virtue she has in spades. She can wait without being too expectant. ] My name is Angela Ziegler; I'm a doctor involved in war relief efforts as well as nanobiology and nanotechnology. I've also done a lot of work with prosthetics. And what do I call you?

[ Her touch hadn't been welcome when she'd startled him with it, but she'll hold out a hand to shake and see if it works any better when he's aware of it, introducing themselves. ]

[He's not really a handshake guy, but Raiden's not so socially tonedeaf that he won't respond in kind. He takes her hand in a firm, brief handshake-- clearly keen to be done with it as soon as it's started.]

Raiden. [He's still watching her, but it's more wary than assessing now. If all that's true and she's at least half as well-meaning as she seems... Could be a good person to know.] I'm a soldier, though... Who knows how useful that'll be here.

[Hopefully not at all, but he knows better.]

[ Angela's touch lingers a little longer, fingertips slipping from his palm as she observes his arm for a long moment. The craftsmanship of him, able to tell with the touch just how much was metal and how much was flesh. She's worked with enough to know by now; one of her most prominent here on this ship, a man who had lost all four limbs, scarred head to toe in a vicious attack that had changed his life. Further still when she had gotten him into a nearly full new body, keeping as much of his organic body intact as possible, working with the engineers on the project to ensure he retained as much sensation and flexibility as before.

It took a lot of time and love to create these sorts of things. It makes her curious about him, smile still idly playing about her lips before returning her gaze to his face. ]

It's a pleasure to meet you then, Raiden. I'm sure there's a way to apply your skills to other tasks. Even soldiers have learned a thing or two along the way, you know. Teaching others some self-defense, survival skills drilled into us helping us with boat riggings, preparing food, filtering dirty water. I once got a few fishermen back to shore off the eastern Cape in Africa when I caught a ride between villages; just naval knots and a quick line of stitches in an old sail. Unconventional, but it worked.

I had more fish than I could've eaten in a month! I gave it all to the village they got me to. You'll find something, I'm sure.

[ Perhaps she can press again, now that he's had a moment to observe her, feel her out. They're already practically friends!! (Keep dreamin' gurl.) ]

This will be the last time I'll ask, I promise. Are you sure you're all right? I can only imagine the havoc that trip has wrecked on everyone. Much less someone with a special body.

[ To put it lightly. She's ready to help him with anything he may need, and he has all of her focus. ]

['A special body.' At this point it shouldn't bother him, but it does, and it shows on his face. His expression falls briefly at the phrase, where he'd been listening with some interest. It's a much nicer story than the ones he's accustomed to hearing; usually he's hearing about the horrible torture they endured or the horrible war crimes they commited. A story about helping some fishermen with quick thinking? It's just nice.]

[Too bad she had to go and remind him he's a horrible abomination.]

Thanks for your concern, but I'm fine.

[That'll get her to stop fussing, right? Maybe a change of subject will help. He gestures to her wings with a hand and a nod in their direction.]

... I've never seen armor like yours before. It looks... Advanced.

[ oH NO SHE DIDN'T MEAN IT THAT WAY— she sees his expression fall and she immediately tries to rectify her statement, genuinely apologetic. ]

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that negatively in any way; I work with cybernetics where I come from so I only meant the pressure and possible damage from the gate here had me worrying. It's kept you alive up to this point, hasn't it? I'm thankful for that even if I've just met you.

[ Nothing will ever make her stop fussing she's a professional!! But she can pick up what he's putting down with a subject change, and she'll follow along. ]

This old thing? It has been through a lot with me, but it's kept me well-protected. This is my Valkyrie swift response suit. It's made mostly for maneuverability in war zones and unstable areas, for example buildings that have been blown up. I can simply fly up to second or third floors instead of trying to navigate broken staircases or internal fires.

[ She pats the breastplate where her sternum is affectionately, wingtips spreading with the faint yellow glow of the exhaust in a gentle stretch with the slight motion of her shoulders. ]

The bodysuit underneath is a tough mesh to help with shrapnel and fire, and the plating on top only covers the vital areas; mostly bulletproof. There isn't very much, but it is more about helping others and remaining lightweight so I can move easier.

[ She's had no particular reason to believe anyone's from different timeframes as of yet, but she's from 2076 herself. ]

That's amazing.

[He says it without thinking, and it's kind of hard to stop himself from staring even more and trying to assess the whole suit, but that feels like it'd be kind of creepy and invasive. It's just an outstanding piece of tech, he can't even imagine how many lives could be saved with that.]

So you... Spend a lot of time in warzones?

Thank you for saying so.

[ Angela is used to eyes being on her; it was made to be a little flashy (and white, which stands out enough on its own) specifically to be easy to spot. She'll do a little turn for him to see the back and wings as well, one quick twirl before facing him again. Then a little bow, one foot crossing behind the other to tap her toe on the ground. It is outstanding, and she's proud of it to this day. She'd only had a minor hand in its creation but it has saved her time and again. ]

I do, yes. I used to be a member of an international peacekeeping force, but when it was disbanded I continued my work where I was most needed. Neutral little groups of doctors and volunteers wherever we could be of help. Assisting villages rebuilding, treating those caught in wars, soldiers or locals or otherwise. Bringing necessary medicine and prosthetics where necessary. It was a little bit of everything, really.

You sound familiar.

[Familiar with what she's talking about, he assumes, and nods.]

I'm a soldier, so... It's easy to imagine how much good you must be able to do with a suit like that.

[ That and familiar with war zones, so his followup only has her humming with a little nod. ]

It would be difficult to put a number on it, but... it has been many. I'm thankful for its creation with every person I've gotten to safety. May I ask, quite generally, where you've served?

[ Perhaps they've seen the same scenery. ]

[It's sort of a complicated question, what with that whole 'being sent to the future' situation and most of his CONDOR assignments being classified, so he's inclined to be pretty vague about it. They probably don't even come from the same universe, but old habits etc.]

South America, the Middle East... I do a lot of work stateside.

Myself as well. I spent a significant amount of time in the middle east myself; largely Iraq and Afghanistan, but we traversed one end to the other enough to make me dizzy. The land's been war-torn for so long I don't think they know how to live peacefully anymore. Seventy years of ongoing disputes.

[ She shakes her head, part of her unable to understand and another just plain disappointed. Even if her offering up information didn't inspire the same, it was all right. She's only glad for others who have shared a similar lifestyle; who can appreciate the same ideals the way she does. ]

Fighting is an easy state of being when it's all you know.

[There's a knowing tone to the way he says it, probably characteristic of anyone who's been to a lot of war zones. He knows these conflicts are often more complicated than just "now everybody get along," but there also has to be some kind of peaceful resolution out there?]

[Raiden shrugs a shoulder.] Especially with war profiteers stirring the pot.

[ Recognition of his words is immediate; she nods, contemplative, looking dismayed but otherwise in agreement. ]

No country should ever forget what it's like to have peace. Entire generations have passed in that timespan without know what it could be like.

[ Auch. Don't remind her of war profiteers. There's a visible distaste in her expression completely aimed away from him, just shaking her head. ]

I don't understand how anything could be valuable enough to sway anyone toward so much violence and suffering.

[Oddly, it's her distaste at that which makes Raiden relax a little. It's just such an instant reaction that he can't believe it's an act.]

[He has a lot to say on those kind of people too, but it gives away a lot more about himself than Raiden is entirely comfortable with, so he's quiet for a moment before he opts for something... Friendly?]

That's why people like you are so important. Compassion is an alien concept to a lot of people on the battlefield.

[ It takes her a moment to realize what it is he's said and that there is no malice in it— that he's sincere. It leaves her with a thankful smile quirking her lips and a humble inclination of the head. ]

It is kind of you to say so Raiden; I appreciate it very much. I wish it were less of an alien concept, but perhaps with more time. Things are not as bad as they used to be, but humans are terrifyingly skilled at coming up with new ways to wage wars.

Everyone is always evolving, right? If only we could apply that energy into something more positive. Many people do, just perhaps not enough quite yet.

[ Ever the careful optimist, this one. ]

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( august intro log )

arrival

YESSSSSS MORE METAL GEARS

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