thisavrou_ooc | ( tdm 12 )

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( tdm 12 )

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leavin’ on a jet plane
"Don’t know when I’ll be back again."

ABOARD THE MOIRA

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.

Whether adjusting to space travel has been difficult or not, there is always something to be done. From working to leisure, the Moira offers a multitude of opportunities to get to know your crewmates a bit better. Exploration of the ship is highly encouraged. You may notice a slight change in the artificial gravity every once in awhile; however, more noticeable changes can be found in overall morale of those of the crew.

☄ on your own

There are plenty of other communal areas on the ship to explore! Pick a place, and see where it takes you. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )

The day begins normally. Or almost.

The Moira has accidentally fallen along the trajectory of an asteroid barreling its way through space. While most things like this are not uncommon, and the ship is far from any potential danger of collision or risk of debris damaging the exterior, there is something particularly odd about this specific occurrence. The rock itself appears to give off a strange light that is both eerie and alive. Often, if looked at in just the right manner, it will shift colors; so, while one person sees one side of the spectrum, someone else could see something entirely different. At first, things continue on as they usually do aside from the glowing asteroid alongside the Moira, but as the hours go on, that does not seem to be the case.

☄ the hours are breathing
resignedly beneath the sky the melancholy waters lie
With a rather open view of stars and space, thanks to the skylight above, the pool in the rec area suddenly comes alive beneath the light of the asteroid filtering in. Perhaps it’s some natural response to the chemical composition of the water, or perhaps it’s magic. Yet, regardless of the explanation, those who happen to take a dip suddenly find themselves plagued by despair. The depression and melancholy are not subtle changes either; it slams into you with great force, like a punch to the gut. The longer you remain in the pool, the deeper it grows, like an all-consuming paranoia that settles into the back of your mind and causes your heart to grow heavy. These strong feelings will eventually fade if you choose to leave the pool and dry off, but as long as you remain damp from the pool, those emotions will continue to linger. Even after you’re completely dry, there will be no mistaking just how intensely you felt or why. There is no explanation and might not be. Would you dare a second swim to test whether or not it was a fluke? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )

☄ those who have crossed
the eyes are not here, there are no eyes here
The walls are shrinking in. Every room you step into feels much too small, like there isn’t enough room to even breathe. A crowded place becomes startlingly empty, and no matter how much you run, how much you explore, there is no one there to comfort you or answer your calls for help. Hallucinations run strong between the lulls of obscene loneliness or claustrophobia, and exposure to the glow of the asteroid is really the only thing to thank for that. You’re desperate to claw your way out of the ship—open the emergency hatch in the Cargo Bay, bust the glass of the Observation Deck. What’s worse is that it’s not just you. It’s catching, and the fear of being next is very real. It feels like you’re being watched, that everyone around you is looking and seeing everything you are. Or are not. The only way to make it stop is to admit that you’re afraid of being seen, but who, in the deep madness of the self, has the courage to ever admit the truth? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )

☄ the sun in flight
rage, rage against the dying of the light
Something has drifted its way onto the Moira from the outside. Unlike the faint luminosity they give off, they suck up all the light around them, making them the only source to see by. From far away, they are just flitting balls of light, but if you get close enough to inspect them, they are mean. And have sharp, sharp teeth. Go poking, and they will bite you before trying to fly away while taking that only light source with them. The option to avoid them is quite easy if you’re not the curious sort, but without them around, it will be impossibly dark. As the asteroid moves on in the opposite direction of the Moira, these light creatures begin to dissolve and fade away with it. However, a word of caution: their bites glow. If you don’t manage to find the one that bit you and capture it between your hands, the bite will become a permanent glowing fixture of your body. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )

OUT OF CHARACTER INFO

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For mature or graphic content, please label. For questions, please direct them to the FAQ. As always, be kind and have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

on your own (bow observation deck);

[When in space, do as the other people who unexpectedly find themselves transported to space do– and get acquainted with the stars. On the way to the bow, Adam stops by the lounge and appropriates a bottle of something that looks like bourbon and smells like rocket fuel. One taste, and he decides that absolutely nobody is going to mind if it happens to go missing from the bar. Practically doing a public service.

Eventually he and his bottle find themselves at the observation deck and he takes up a spot by a shelf-like ledge, leaning against the wall with his head nearly pressed against the viewing window. He rummages in a pocket of his coat for the little paper container; a part of him tells him he should save his smokes – they're the only pack he's got – but a more insistent part of him says fuck it. The acrid burn in his throat (however fleeting, as the machinery in his lungs springs into action and dutifully works to counteract the toxins) is a brief but too-welcome comfort. Every time the warmth fades there's a different, less welcome feeling in his chest: a tightness, the cause of which Adam can't quite pin down.

The stars should be beautiful. Should be a little romantic. Even the asteroid's captivating, in a creepy kind of way. So why does this make him feel so uneasy?

...Well. Nothing for it but to finish his cigarette and not think about it too hard. And to try and finish off this whiskey (battery acid??) But something about the view still makes it seem like a drink best consumed with company, and so Adam may go ahead and offer a glass to anyone else who happens to show up looking like they're in the mood to drink something vile. The dark lenses over his eyes (yes indoors, yes in space) may send a different message, but he seems in the mood to talk.]

those who have crossed (hallways);

[The eyes are all around him – Adam can feel them, even through the layers of metal and polymers separating him from the rest of the world. He knows they've always been there (always watching from the shadows, waiting) but they've never been so bold as to reveal their hand... Until now.

They want to play their games? They can try. Taking the initiative, Adam surveys the area all around him. No trace of anyone else in this particular dim, darkened hallway– but there's a slight shift in his vision as his retinal prostheses adjust, and he picks up the outline of a person in a branching path around the corner. There. How long has the bastard been following him? And for what?

Only one way to find out. The air around him shimmers and bends as he activates his cloaking system, disappearing entirely from view. Only a few scant seconds of solace from the ever-watching eyes, but that's all he needs to silently slip behind his target before deactivating his cloak. For all intents and purposes he simply appears out of thin air, as if by magic, and speaks.

It's the voice of a guy who sounds like he eats his cigarettes whole and chases them with broken glass, a low and gruff growl. Right now, there's something extra in there– a none-too-veiled threat that something bad might happen if he doesn't like what he hears in the next ten seconds.] Want to tell me why you're tailing me like this?

[Hey, he's asking questions first and trying to knock people's lights out later– so that's a good sign at least!]

wildcard;

(( hmu! ))

Edited 2016-07-11 06:39 (UTC)

[Dorian typically knew better than to spend too much of his time here on the observation deck, the place had a hair-raising air about it if one remained excessively alone. Still, Dorian could always remind himself that he'd endured more disturbing things than voices he could hear, but couldn't pinpoint the source, he was a mage, that was practically a Tuesday evening.

It was, however, one of the few places a man could get some peace and quiet, well occasionally, there was an obvious draw for the crew to this place. Romantic might have been the term one might use, but Dorian wasn't quite so certain, not that he is thinking about it too hard. Right now his nose is buried in a book, where it usually is when things are quiet and he wasn't at all busy. So it takes him a moment to realize that there is a presence aboard the deck, and that presence had a form, and that form made him do a double-take.

The people he has seen since he's been here, it never fails to fascinate him how none of them can even remotely come close to resembling what he recognized. That is not a bad thing, it piqued the interest of the person inside of him who had to know things.

Dorian lowered his book, he wasn't one for long, awkward silences. He preferred awkward icebreakers instead.]

Lovely isn't it? Kind of makes you want to retch, yes?

[Company. Good. In spite of himself, he was kind of starting to miss having another human presence around.

Adam half-turns from his spot by the window and grunts in reply; it can pass for a laugh, if one's really generous!] Something like that, yeah.

[He hadn't done an especially thorough job acquainting himself with the ship's other passengers, but he'd seen enough of them to know he'd have to learn to expect all sorts – multiple universes and whatnot (he's still having a hard time believing it.) This guy's no exception; "dapper" is really the only word he has for him. Dapper and bookish, apparently.

Adam cranes his neck as if to try and catch a glimpse of the book's spine, though it's not yet apparent how he can see anything at all behind those shades of his.]

Looks like you know how to deal with it, though. [Going ahead and indicating the book in the man's hands with a slight nod of his head. There's the slight implication that Adam knows he – with his (frankly, terrible) whiskey and inclination to just stare out into the nauseating depths of space – is the one going about this the wrong way.]

[There is no such thing as going about this the wrong way. Dorian's thick skin and charming personality has carried him through many a conversation with interesting people. Granted for some he is a bit much, but he isn't one to dampen himself for the comfort of others- his vanity is what it is. Though dapper and bookish (bit of a nerd, you can say it), are also apt descriptions of him as well.]

Yes, I try not to stare too hard at the pretty white dots...and when you're used to this sot of thing? [Any sort of eeriness one can possibly imagine? Including, but not limited to bogs with dead bodies that walked around when the water was disturbed? This was almost pleasant.] It doesn't even register, though I do try not to spend too much time here by myself, I suppose that is the point. It is quiet, though, and that can be appealing.

[Invitation or no, Dorian gladly joins the stranger as if they hadn't just met. He was curious about the book, Dorian could tell that much even with the sunglasses, though his were odd. Dorian was used to it, or getting used to it, he knew a few men who wore such contraptions pretty much everywhere...and then Hawke discovered that they were good for hangovers.

Dorian still failed to see the point, but then again, he wasn't one to cover his face, he was too good looking for that. A given.

Leaning against the ledge and crossing them at the ankles, Dorian set the book down and slid it toward his companion so that he could properly read the cover "Swords and Shields."]

Literature, if you want to call it that, smutty literature. I read it for this [He flipped it to the back cover where there was a portrait of the author.] We're comrades and I like to give him a hard time over his terrible attempt at writing fiction.

[Dorian's a bad man.]

[Swords and Shields, huh?

…Honestly, even if the man hadn't told him what the book was about, Adam probably would've gotten the gist just from glimpsing the cover. Incredibly, it looks exactly the way a trashy novel from his own world would look. Guess some things just don't change. Raising a brow – may I? – he picks up the book and leafs through a few pages at random, trailing over a sentence here or there.

Well. "Smutty literature." The guy certainly wasn't kidding.]

Funny. I know a guy like that, myself. [Poor Francis. As much as Adam thinks he and his scripts probably deserve it, getting five rejections from Picus TV is enough to elicit a wince from an even less sympathetic person than he is.] But I think your friend's efforts were more well-received.

Unless… [Halfway through skimming a particularly lurid passage, Adam shuts the book and places it back on the ledge where it belongs, front cover facing upwards. He taps it with a black, metal finger.] ...The five-star rating on the cover is just another part of his attempt at fiction?

Edited (made a couple oopsies) 2016-07-12 03:18 (UTC)

[It's simply missing Fabio, with an obnoxiously pretty sunset, and a horse rearing back in the distance. Otherwise, yes, a picture is worth a thousand words and if a Dwarf, surrounded by women on the back cover was any indication of this book's hidden depths and its target audience...then perhaps Dorian didn't understand what it truly meant to be hit with a blunt object.]

I won't say that he doesn't have a target audience, there is something to be said for how well he's depicted his strong female lead. That's very attractive to strong women in my world...my only compliment. I am not sure I can properly understand the mechanics of ripping a bodice...those poor bursty women. [So why does Dorian persist in reading these novels? Obviously because he can't just stop, the only thing worse than terribly written smut was starting it and not seeing it to the disastrous conclusion.] I won't ask you if you'd like to borrow it, I have the entire collection, but I can tell you'd rather gnaw your own arm off. If only I had the courage, alas.

[A smile. A wry one, but a smile nonetheless. Looks like he's capable of them!]

Nice of you to offer, but you're right – I can't say these are really my thing. [Not to mean books in general. He enjoys reading just about anything when he actually has the time, just… He's not sure he can read one of these and be capable of the same sort of morbid fascination that this guy evidently is. Adam would rather not watch a trainwreck, if he could help it.]

Adam Jensen, by the way. [He moves as if to offer his hand for a handshake – you know, the traditional way one greets another person upon meeting for the first time – but for a brief moment, an unreadable look passes over his face and he decides to pour himself another two fingers of rocket fuel instead.

It occurs to him, now, that he hasn't so much as given anyone a high five since the… Procedures. A veritable graveyard of shattered cups and glasses had been a testament to how difficult it was for him to learn to control the pressure his new limbs exerted on everything he touched. He's not sure he wants to try his luck with an actual flesh-and-bone human hand here, not quite yet.

Hopefully the guy doesn't notice.]

I'd offer you some [raising his glass with a slight grimace] but if I'm being real honest here, you'd probably be the one gnawing your own arm off if I did. Not a great way to make a first impression.

[It looks good on him, but Dorian will keep that to himself, he likes to get the measure of a person before overtly flattering them.]

Fortunately there is a vast library in this place with books that will not threaten to disintegrate your brain. [Dorian is a glutton for punishment, what can he say? That Dorian can read this sort of thing objectively and with a straight face, it was a miracle, but he was well practiced. He was a noble after all, that's one of the first things they teach you- show no humor in the face of humor. Unfortunately Dorian's personality wouldn't allow him to be that bloody serious.]

Dorian of House Pavus, a pleasure. [Dorian was beginning to recognize the signs of a handshake and he was very observant, so no, it didn't escape his notice. He didn't remark on it, however, reason being that he was guilty of making faux pas when it came to customary greetings. If this was his first introduction to such a custom he might have kissed the extended hand instead.

Maybe it was caution, Dorian understood caution and so he offered his own greeting, an elegant bow at the waist, appropriate enough where he came from, less touching involved.]

Oh, I can't imagine anything being much worse than Dwarven ale [Dorian made no effort to conceal his humor] but, truth be told, I am more of a wine drinker. I'd probably end up observing the effects of that concoction on my nausea and end up drinking more than I'd want to...and then gnawing my arm off. We are quite attached to one another.

[That is certainly a greeting, and apparently "dapper" was a way better assessment of the guy than Adam had initially expected. The voice, the book's subject material, and this talk about dwarves and great houses is starting to come off very high fantasy to him. Can't really treat it as fiction anymore though, can he? Not when Lord Dorian Pavus himself is standing right there in front of him, looking fit to invite him to the cotillion.

Cotillions are way outside his wheelhouse, though– and so he just kind of gives an awkwardly stiff nod to Dorian's bow, not knowing how else he's supposed to respond to that (doesn't matter, whiskey will solve this problem.)]

To neither of us having to lose an arm.

[Adam's never been great at toasts, and the irony of that one in particular definitely doesn't escape him. No matter how closely the sculpt of his arms mimic real human musculature, there's no mistaking the black metal and mesh polymers for anything but.

He knocks the drink back, grimace becoming all the more pronounced for it. A pause.] Sorry if this sounds insensitive. But you're talking about... Dwarves, right? Short, bearded guys who sing songs and mine all day?

adam jensen | deus ex

on your own

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omg // those who have crossed

are they BOTH wearing sunglasses in space, oh man what a trip

inDEED...... sunglasses in space squad...

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WEEPS OPENLY also hallways

ohhh no... i don't think i can be mean to lucio. ;[

THIS IS YOUR TRUE TEST

i'm not ready i'm not ready!!

YOU'RE DOING GREAT SO FAR

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