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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
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(Well, maybe not so simple. But the last two for sure.)
He chuckles at her declaration of protection. He'd insist on it being the other way around--his old-fashioned sense of courtesy pushes him to do so--but his modern sense of their actual relationship stops him. It's a mutual thing. ]
I've got your back, too, doc. Whenever you need it.
[ As for Jack ... he doesn't go on til they're in the beautifully lit (and marvelously empty) mess hall. Hmm. He pauses, standing before the stained glass windows, momentarily stunned. Thinking of church as a child. ]
Plenty folks ready to arrest the both of us, Overwatch or no. Trouble is, I ain't sure if his rap sheet comes down to good intentions like mine. Though it did seem to, from what I read up on.
[ His eyes are on the stained glass, fixed on the intricate patterns. He feels the interplay of light on his face, and an old prayer runs through his mind. Guilt follows. A few seconds pass, and he adds, his easy drawl a murmur-- ]
Sorry about not keepin' in touch.
[ He could make all kinds of excuses about life on the run, about the need to stay incognito, but, ultimately, that's what they were. Excuses. So he'll just settle for the apology. ]
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The low laugh is about what she'd expected of him and she'll tip her head against his arm for a long moment. ]
I've never felt safer. [ Tone lilting with her accent, playful, but genuine enough all the same.
Entering the mess hall always took a moment of wonder for her, but Jesse's lasts far longer, allowing him to take it in at his own pace, watching his face more than anything. The colors were beautiful and they even seemed to shift, as if there were a light source moving behind the panes unseen. When he speaks again, she'll gently lead him through the cavernous display over to the cafe. If he wanted a drink drink, there was a bar, but she's slipping from his side to approach the coffee corner and pull herself an espresso. Ridiculous serape and all. ]
Mm, I'll certainly be keeping an eye on him and speaking with him the next time I see him. All I can really offer is patience and an open mind, or else we may never know. 76 is a prickly man. [ There are reasons for that as well, though he didn't seem to actively despise the Overwatch agents aboard. He clearly had it in him to do more than throw a couple punches or growl threateningly if he really wanted to do damage. ] In a place like this, so far from home? We all need a friend or two.
[ Even if it's solely to find out what his intentions truly were. An ally is an ally, and she can only hope it won't be such a superficial thing. When she sidles back up beside him with a hot mug in her hands laden with cream to an apology, she'll consider it with a somber quiet. Her presence is enough to dissuade any ill feelings he may think the quiet lends to, but it is still something serious for her, and something that had hurt. For a long time and in varying degrees; still hurts even with him right here beside her. It's an ever-present ache that encompasses more than just Jesse, something clenching tight between every heartbeat. ]
I only ever wanted to know you were still all right. [ It isn't exactly an acceptance of his apology; she may not accept it in full just yet, but there is a fraction of it she'll allow for now in the tired turn her tone takes. ] With your leaving, Genji, then Ana and Jack and the Swiss Headquarters... The occasional news clips and updated warrants were all I had to go by. It was not particularly easy on my mind.
[ Gabriel is a whole separate can of worms hanging in the back of that by insinuation alone. What it boils down to is her closest friend wasn't there when she needed him, and that was harder than words could convey. Yet he's here now and she's never had much of a mind for grudges, unable to hold it against him when she knew, somewhere, he'd had his reasons and had seen glimpses of them in the strain with Gabriel and Blackwatch. Once they've found their seats she'll lay an upturned palm on the bar between them in silent request for his hand. It's as close as she can get to accepting his apology for now. ]
no subject
Gabe had changed, too, becoming cruel in his anger. His resentment ate him like a parasite, and it spilled out onto everything, sparing nothing. Deadlock days haunt Jesse still, but the latter months of Blackwatch are a poltergeist. Those memories bite and scratch.
He fixes himself coffee without a word, stewing in the mire of ten years ago. He'd known it'd hurt folks, leaving like he did, but he'd seen no other choice at the time. If he'd deliberated too much, or shown any indecision, Gabe would've trapped him. Dragged him right into hell. Jesse's conviction on this remains steadfast.
He stirs in a few drops of cream, just a bit of sugar. As a kid, he remembers how he used to load up til the coffee turned the color of milk chocolate. He's slightly more restrained now. ]
We just had trouble after trouble.
[ He reaches for her hand, covering it with his own. He'd kept up with the news, piece after devastating piece. He'd seen the foundation of Overwatch crumbling, but it still hurt like hell to watch it fall apart so spectacularly. ]
I can't tell you nothin' you wanna hear. I had to disappear, so I did. But I never wanted to hurt you. I hope you can believe that, at least.
no subject