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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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thisavrou_log2016-08-01 12:13 am
no subject
He doesn't envy the person who is gonna have to clean up all the blood smears.]
Can't you? Guess I smacked you a little too hard.
[A chuckle accompanies his taunt, his free hand going to McCree's organic arm with the intention of twisting it in the most unnatural direction possible.]
no subject
But something cuts through it all. Something about Reaper's voice. Not so much what he's saying as the cadence in it, the tone beneath that otherworldly, guttural growl. It's familiar. Come to think, all of this feels familiar. Brutality he's experienced before; rage he's endured, absorbed.
Jesse spits blood. Breathes hard. He stares at Reaper from beneath the brim of his hat. ]
It's you, ain't it.
[ He scrabbles for a flash grenade on his belt. His only chance. ]
Back from the god damn dead.
[ Reyes. ]
no subject
[Perhaps if it had been a few years earlier, Gabriel Reyes might have sneered and withdrawn when his goat was gotten, after the charade had been put to rest. But Reaper doesn't give a rat's ass for Jesse McCree's recognition of him. Their relationship had been cast aside when he'd turned his back and abandoned him.
He'd chosen his side, just like everyone else. And the list wasn't getting any shorter.]
When did running away ever do you any favors?
[Reaper keeps pressing the bone against the grain in spite of the cracks that he had already felt. If he had anything to say about it, this man wasn't going to have any arms. He's distracted enough with trying to hold him still while he works that he doesn't feel his arm slip down to the flash grenade.]
I mighta made this lesson quick, under different circumstances. Too bad for you.
no subject
He can't process this. Can't process the swell of anger and grief rising in him like a storm, can't act on the desire to lunge forward and grab Gabe by the throat, to demand explanations. To kill him once and for all, if that's what was necessary.
(And it was seeming very necessary.)
But none of those things are available to him. He knows that all he can right now is survive. So he unhooks the grenade. ]
Never much cared for your teachin' style, Gabe.
[ He throws the grenade down, and it explodes. Blinding, stunning light blooms, illuminating the whole area. ]
no subject
Its impossible to tell how much its really effected him, but its enough to see that he rubs at where his eyes ought to be in between swiping blindly at the empty space between them.
Shotguns. If only he had his damn shotguns. But even as he scrapes at his mask and struggles to still his angry nerves long enough to try and hear his way toward his wayward protege, he trembles in an unhinged manner.]
You always were a terrible liar, cowboy.