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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I tend to agree in principle but... from what I heard, there isn't much you could have done, either. Don't blame yourself.

[Ratchet's quiet for a moment, watching Drift with too-intense optics. His voice is quiet when he speaks again.]

...it's good to see you.

[Drift's absolutely going to blame himself anyway, but he gives Ratchet a little nod. That super serious look on Ratchet's face makes him chuckle, and he reaches out to give his shoulder a little shake.]

It's good to see you, too. And relax, you're practically radiating stressful energies.

[Ratchet's expression melts into a fierce scowl and he huffs but doesn't quite shrug Drift's hand off his shoulder.]

You're just saying that to annoy me--don't think I don't know it.

Ratchet, I can't believe you would accuse me of such a thing!

[He was trying to look offended, but the dumb grin kind of kills that immediately. Why yes annoying Ratchet is one of Drift's favorite things how did he guess]

[Ratchet folds his arms and shakes his head, looking away before his optics flick back up to Drift's face.]

So... what happened? When I found you, I mean. [He looks at the badge on Drift's breastplate again, his shoulders relaxing a little.] You come home, right?

Yeah, I came home. I gave you a bit of a hard time at first, but I went with you.

[Drift half shrugs, following Ratchet's gaze down to his breastplate before glancing back up. he decides not to go into all the gritty details just yet. Maybe later.]

Well, we were on our way home right before I got here. Still counts.

Yeah.

[Ratchet's voice is a little rough, faint static in his vocalizer. He's still processing this on top of everything else that's happened.]

Yeah, it counts.

I don't...hmm.

[Drift glances away for a second, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck while he tries to piece together like proper words n'shit.]

I don't think I properly thanked you for coming after me. I wasn't... in a good place, I guess. I mean, not physically-- well wait, yeah, physically as well. I really needed a tune up. I'm getting off topic. Ratchet, thank you. For everything.

Yeah, well. You never should have been gone in the first place.

[Ratchet watches Drift for a moment--a hundred things he could say all well up in his vocalizer at once, but he has no idea which ones he's already said, which ones he even wants to.]

I'd be dead at least twice over if it wasn't for you, kid. Worse than dead. ...why don't we call it even, figure it out from there. All right?

[Drift rolls his eyes a bit, but he nods. Yeaaah Drift probably shouldn't have been gone, he's not going to argue with Ratchet about that much.]

And how many times would I have been dead or worse if it wasn't for you? I don't think we'll ever be even.

That's what I mean, kid, I--

[Ratchet stops, agitated, his mouth pressing flat for a long moment before he looks up at Drift, his optics hard and intent.]

Every time I looked at you I used to see every single person I knew who might be alive if I hadn't scraped you up and poured you back into your own head in the middle of that gutter in Rodion. After a while--after Delphi--I started seeing every person I knew who might be dead if you hadn't saved me the way you did, if I still had my old hands. The people I watched you save with your own two hands, too.

Now... to be honest, I lost track on both counts, and I think if we continue keeping score like this we'll never be done. I came to get you because I want to look at you and just see... you. I didn't do that before, and I wanted the chance. ...you deserved that much from me.

It's going to take some getting used to--especially since I apparently missed actually, y'know, coming to get you and bringing you home--but I don't want to keep score anymore. Friends help each other, that's all. It's even without having to dig back and count. Simpler.

[Drift doesn't necessarily like what Ratchet is saying, at least not at first. Being reminded that Ratchet saving his life all those millions of years ago had lead to the deaths of countless Autobots that Ratchet hadn't been able to save was never fun. The last time it had come up, Drift hadn't taken it well. More accurately, he'd taken it horribly. He'd gotten angry, even pulled a sword on the medic. The circumstances had been a lot different last time, but either way, it wasn't a topic Drift enjoyed discussing. To this day, the guilt of the things he'd done gnawed at the back of his mind and it still blew him away that Ratchet didn't outright hate him for pretty much everything.

Anyway, Drift had kept quiet, half expecting a chewing out. What he ended up hearing was quite different. He stared through the whole thing, mouth slightly agape as Ratchet proceeded to blow him away yet again. He knew the medic didn't think too poorly of him at this point, after all he'd been the only person from a ship of two hundred something Autobots that had been willing to drop everything just to track his dumb ass down. Hearing Ratchet's reasoning behind it put the whole thing into a new perspective, though.]

Ratchet, I... [he pauses to clear the static from his throat, finding a great spot on the floor to stare at in an effort to keep the whole emotions thing in check] I don't know that I do deserve this, but. I'd like it. Simple's good.

[It wasn't the most eloquent reply ever, but it was about the best he could manage for a minute.]

[Ratchet just watches him for a moment, his gaze very level.]

You do. [Simply.] And, good. Glad we're on the same page.

[Drift lets out a quick, almost nervous laugh and looks back up, and immediately rubs at his face with both hands and laughs again. He's at something of a loss for words, but not really in a bad way. Don't mind him he's just going to be derping for a moment.]

[Ratchet reaches up and squeezes Drift's shoulder briefly, then drops his hand.]

Guess I didn't say any of that stuff before, then. [His mouth tilts in a wry little half-smile.] Anyway, what else have I missed? Besides our impending gruesome demise, apparently.

A lot. I mean, not a lot lot, but kind of a lot, I guess. Mostly you and I were just traveling until we came across Rodimus and the others... it sounds like you've already heard the news.

[Drift had been hoping that it wouldn't come up, he really didn't want to think about Tarn or any of that crap for a while.]

Yeah, and I've got worse--Tarn's here, on this ship. They've implemented some pretty strict rules about cold-blooded murder around here, but not before he got to Riptide first. That's another thing--death isn't permanent. [He declines to mention he knows that first hand, for not.] It's... complicated, we weren't told exactly how it works.

So Tarn isn't exactly openly homicidal, but he's still dangerous. Just--promise me you'll stay away from him, all right? I already apparently drag you straight to him once, I'm not really too keen on doing so again.

Oh, I'm aware. I've already run into him once today, I'm sure you can imagine how that went. I'm not exactly planning on going out of my way to bother him.

[he rubs at his chest a bit, just over his spark. Look that spark talking thing fucking hurts, he doesn't want a repeat.]

[Ratchet goes still, his optics paling.]

I see. [His expression hasn't changed, and his voice is very level.] Are you all right?

[He puts his hands up. See Ratchet it's all good and chill]

I'm fine, It was just kind of a shock running into him here, you know? I'm not hurt or anything.

I can imagine.

[Ratchet's voice sounds a little tinny in his own audials, and his expression is still fixed as he thinks back to a leaking, shaking Drift, flat on his back on a medical slab in the frozen underbelly of the Delphi facility, begging Ratchet to just kill him rather than let him fall into the hands of the D.J.D. His grip had been surprisingly tight for someone who was in the rapidly accelerating process of dying. Ratchet takes a rattling vent of air.]

Good. I'm glad. I'll want to run a check anyway--I need a new baseline for you in any case, even if Tarn didn't do any lasting damage.

[Drift wants to protest, but stops himself short and just huffs. He knows better than to argue with Ratchet about medical junk by now.]

Sure, that sounds fair.

Too right it does. Standard procedure for every Autobot who comes onto the ship, anyway--'Cons, too, but I can't exactly order them around. Don't think you're getting out of it just because I'm glad you're not dead.

[Heaven forfend.]

Anyway, as far as I'm concerned, my last readings for you are so old they're basically worthless anyway, and who even knows what you've been rolling around in and getting yourself into while I'm not there to treat you.

Nothing you haven't already yelled at me about. I'm perfectly fine, promise.

[he just smiles and shrugs like none of this is a big deal.]

Well, I have no way to tell what I've already yelled at you about or not, so I'm prepared to cover whatever's necessary.

[Sorry, Drift, you have to deal with the pent-up energy from weeks of Ratchet being stuck in a shuttle by himself thinking about all the awful crap you could have gotten yourself into in his absence.]

Just, whenever you have time, I know you're settling in. Do not make me chase after you, though, I promise you will regret it.

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happyclappyhippydrippy - 2016-08-12 02:46 (UTC) - Expand

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