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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
no subject
but more importantly at the moment, eli's brother recognizes tretij somehow.
he nudges at the older man's mind a little more firmly, like a gentle tap asking to be let in. it's surprisingly polite for tretij, who's always used his abilities at the orders of his handlers, and rarely gently. but this place is unsettling for him, and he's overwhelmed and tired and uncomfortable. and.. anyway, this is eli's brother.
he taps a pale finger against his chest to indicate himself, head tilting faintly as he projects overlapping Russian voices: tretij and the third child and number three and tretij rebenok. ]
no subject
It's no surprise that Mantis is curious, but when Snake feels that more insistent picking at his brain, he immediately closes himself off. FOXHOUND had given him some training in how to resist mental manipulation, and while Mantis had managed to press past it during their encounter, he's much younger here. Maybe Snake can withstand it this time.
As more foreign voices filter through Snake's head, he has to take the words (Russian, of course) and translate. ]
The Third Child. [ He echoes the term, then narrows his eyes at the lenses of the gas mask. ] Third of what?
no subject
the question earns a mild, puzzled blink behind the lenses of his mask. he's never been asked that before.
monster. maybe. he touches fingers to the words on his straitjacket, then lets them drop away again. a moment later, he projects a dizzying series of images-- bright lights silhouetting a figure overhead, the sensation of hard straps digging into arms and legs, darkness, the feeling of being utterly isolated. it fades quickly, and he picks at a scar on the back of one skinny hand. kept separate. ]
no subject
He'd been an experiment. Of course. Because scientists so often didn't know where to draw a line when it comes to their research. If a kid with psychic powers fell into their lap, how could they resist? It's both sickening and disturbing, but it's not surprising. ]
Before they got you... you must have had a name. [ Snake's eyes narrow. ] You don't remember it?
[ Or maybe Tretij has thrown that name away. Names are a tricky thing, and if he hadn't thought it fit him anymore, maybe it had seemed easier to go with what his captors had called him instead. It doesn't sit well with Snake, though.
He really shouldn't be feeling anything like sympathy for someone who's going to one day be Psycho Mantis, but he's already starting to get an idea of why he'd turned out that way. ]
no subject
demon, he offers cautiously in response. witch. if his father had ever called him by a proper name, it was drowned out by other things. maybe when he'd been an infant or a toddler, before he'd begun displaying signs of being different. he doubts it, though-- he'd been a murderer right from the start, after all, and his father had always hated him.
he drifts lightly into the air again, drawing his legs up as if he's seated and curling his arms around his thighs. he rests his masked chin on skinny knees, pale eyes unreadable behind the scuffed lenses.
doesn't matter. he doesn't really need one, he supposes. 'tretij' has worked fine thus far. still, after a moment, he pings the older man questioningly, head tilting. yours? ]
no subject
Mantis had compared them, Snake remembered, both of them committers of patricide. Looking at him now, Snake can't say that he feels like they're similar at all, but he hadn't wanted to argue with a dying man.
At the question which drifts through his mind, Snake blinks and then lifts one shoulder, barely even a shrug. It occurs to him how strange this scene between him and Tretij would look to someone passing by, but they seem to be relatively alone. He figures Tretij would sense if someone were coming, anyway. ]
Call me Snake. [ A pause, and he sighs. ] Though I guess you already know one of those.
no subject
his glance drifts down to the gun, then, sending a quick interrogative ping.
dangerous here? not as if that sort of thing is particularly upsetting to him, either, given his upbringing and where he's been since escaping the institute. even so, it's curious, especially given how relaxed many of the people here seem to be. ]
no subject
Then again, trying to read Venom's mind would probably be like walking into a minefield.
Snake follows Tretij's look to his handgun, though he already knows that a bullet isn't going to do anything to him. He'd tried that back at Shadow Moses, and it had taken some out-of-the-box thinking to get around his tricks. ]
It can be. [ Snake looks up, forcing himself not to be unnerved as he stares into the eyes of the mask, which remind him far too much of an insect's eyes. ] Not always, but it's better to be prepared.