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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
Just since then.
[ He'd only arrived the day the whole space jellyfish nonsense started up. Hell of a first day, isn't it? ]
Andyr. [ But, at the name he's given, his eyes narrow, looking the man over a bit more closely, with his head tilted, before adding - ] Which one of you's the really shitty clone?
[ because for real, that's a lot of details to get off. ]
no subject
[A smile teases at the corner of his lips before he shakes his head. He’s only (partially) kidding here.]
If we were clones anyway. [He cranes his neck to the side, staring at him with a bit of amusement in his eyes. Guess Andyr’s met the older, shorter version of him. He’s almost curious to hear what impression that Tony left on him, yet he also doesn’t actually care enough to ask.
Instead, he should probably try to clarify here.] We’re alternates of each other. Not clones. Different things. I don't know if you've heard of the multiverse, but it's a collection of alternate universes that share a universal hierarchy we're all a part of.
Well, many of these universes originate from one another based off of a major decision made on the part of an individual. So in our particular case, I’m Tony Stark of our primary Earth and he’s the version of me from another Earth.
[A small frown creases his brows for a moment before he offers a small, nonchalant shrug.] It’s a whole thing. Basically, what you need to know is that we might be versions of each other, but we’re not the same on a genetic level – or else he'd be taller.
no subject
Once he's done, he comments blankly - ]
I know what the multiverse is, I've been here for more that two seconds. [ It's Moira 101. Maybe not so in depth as different versions of the same person, but once he'd seen Steve, it was jumping right into the concept from there. ]
The clone thing was mostly a joke. No one would waste money on something that genetically sloppy. [ Mostly a joke, because who even knows. However - ] That's wrong, though. He wouldn't necessarily be taller.
[ because fuck you and your science brain, Andyr has physical proof of it back home. ] Most of my clones are taller than me. It's really annoying, actually.
no subject
[It’s easier for him to simplify and explain things most of the time because not everybody understands or knows what he’s talking about when he enters scientific areas such as this. Less patronization; more consideration, but it can easily be misconstrued as the former. He’s just learned to assume they don’t get it because they usually don’t. But at the end of the day, he only means well.
His comment on his alternate’s height is also meant more in self-gratifying jest, but he isn’t entirely sure the kid caught it (and he doesn’t blame him either if he doesn't since it’s, well, more for his own benefit than anyone else’s). Not that it matters anymore following Andyr’s revelation about his clones. It’s completely piqued his interest and it actually makes him sit up further as he tucks his leg in. You got his undivided attention now. Congrats.]
How many clones do you have? Are they a commonality in your world?
no subject
And Andyr immediately wants to put a fist through his skull. ]
In the thousands. Mine are made to replace national militaries. [ So, yes. It’s fucking common. And for the sake of telling just how much he’s not a fan: ] But that’s just mine. Others a body guards, trophy pieces, fuck toys, and sometimes dinner, because eating peoples’ pretty common these days too.
[ Spoken almost cheerfully. Because fuck you and the robot horse you rode in on. ]
no subject
Rubbing the side of his neck, Tony doesn’t say anything for a moment before he shifts his gaze back up at him.] Sorry, I didn’t know. [If he did, he wouldn’t have prodded.] It must not have been easy for you, growing up in that kind of environment. [He holds up his hand.] Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. I can respect it.
no subject
Or, for the matter, anyone trying to sympathize with him. Must not have been easy growing up. Honestly, the growing up part was more difficult because of the slumps, and missing Jehanne. The public kept so neat and clean about what went on in the Houses. He hadn’t known the real horror of it until he was trapped inside. ]
Could’ve been worse. The doctors and techs seemed to have a fun time with it.
no subject
[A world like that needs saving. But logistically speaking, plenty of worlds could use help. It’s not something any one man can shoulder on himself. Most anyone can aspire to do is focus on either preventing or saving their world from a bleak future similar to the one the kid’s from. It’s something he personally aspires to do for his Earth.
He doubts it’s any consolation for Andyr to be out of that situation. Better, yes; but you never can escape your scars, can you? Not entirely, anyway. All you can hope for is to slowly find a way to heal and move forward.
But at least one thing can be ascertained, being on the Moira is definitely a far better circumstance for him than remaining in his world, which makes him wonder if he hopes to return there or would he rather live out his life here, if that’s a possibility.]
How are you liking the Moira so far?
no subject
[ nothing makes it right. Not the people who live longer because of what they bleed out of him, not the wars that are won, not the improved lifestyle of some. Nothing, even if it saved the entire fucking world, nothing, makes it right.
But as for andyr, it’s certainly a nice break from the regular torture, but he doesn’t consider himself free of home in the least. Any second of any day, the Ingress could spaz out and shoot him back home, and he’d be right back where he’d started, only now with the sweet memories of something better to bitterly sour over.
The moira - it’s been strange. He’s not sure how to answer, wonders if tony expects him to be jumping up and down with glee over it. ]
It’s quiet. Calm. [ a kind of calm he has a difficult time trusting, or settling with. Like being taken from a scalding shower and dumped into a frigid bath. It’s a non-answer, but he isn’t sure what else to give. ] Better than vivisection.
no subject
[The Moira is relatively calm, isn’t it? Aside from some peculiar space anomalies, nothing too dangerous or disastrous has happened yet. Tony isn’t idealistic (or optimistic) enough to believe they’re going to smoothly reach their destination without some sort of unforeseen mishap headed their way — that they’re currently just on a pleasant intergalactic cruise through the stars.
It would be great if they were, but, considering this trip has never been voluntary, he doesn’t find the likelihood to be very high.
His distrust and paranoia aside, he also has people he’s avoiding for a multitude of reasons. It doesn’t exactly make being onboard the Moira fun or relaxing for him. If anything, he’s mostly wary and stressed. Only thing keeping him grounded is the work here.]
So, where are you headed?