tdm 5

[hownkai]

T E S T D R I V E

ABOARD THE MOIRA 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, but as another planet grows closer to being docked, things start to get a little hectic. You'll notice a slight change in the artificial gravity as the Moira is pulled into a gravitational field; however, more noticeable changes can be found in the overall morale as you prepare to descend. ☄ 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. ) ERIS — 6578 Welcome to one of the sister Eris planets. This one, unlike many of its counterparts, is incredibly high dollar. For visiting individuals, it is mandatory to wear clothes befitting of such a status. For those aboard the Moira, it means discarding work attire for the formal wear they have been provided. Characters will find the temperature moderately cold, a late fall to early winter feel, and their outwear must reflect the prestige Eris—6578 is universally known for. Any sort of trading is strictly done through computers and electronic orders--nothing hands-on as it's considered beneath the inhabitants to indulge in such outdated means of interaction. Unlike most systems, money is needed to purchase things on Eris. The captains have given the crew unlimited credits; with each transaction, simply "pay" with the MID. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) ☄ lavish living Fine dining? The movies? Or perhaps gambling? Whatever your tastes, Eris caters to everyone and everything—the more expensive, the better. There is no limit to what can be done when one has the money to spend, and this lifestyle reflects in the people and surroundings. Even sex is a very ornate process held to the highest discretion. Feel free to indulge, but know that it isn't without its consequences. ☄ taken In its underbelly, Eris—6578's main function is the trade and trafficking of bodies for one of two purposes: to be placed in a situation where you are made to kill for another's enjoyment or are tortured and killed based on the client's personal tastes. Each scenario is designed to fit the paying customer's predilections and is often carried out in places secured and private. Remember, money is no object. Therefore, the extent of what they do or make you do has no boundaries either. OUT OF CHARACTER INFO FAQ | LOCATIONS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS | NAVIGATION For mature or graphic content, please label. For questions, please direct them to the FAQ. As always, be kind and have fun!

Comments

[notglitching]

[In his inspection of this new system, Rinzler had saved the plant zone for last. The contents weren't entirely unfamiliar, not after Inugami. But that same experience advised caution to a high degree. From what Rinzler could tell, plants registered somewhere between a virus and a system glitch—if an irritatingly pervasive one.

The first glance is promising. Like most things in this system, the greenery appears contained, ordered rows and boxes the enforcer can only approve of. Much less risk of contamination. His steps are silent as he stalks past the quarantined arrays, nothing but the low rumbling of code in conflict to give away his movement.

The tree is an obvious centerpiece, and the enforcer stops several paces back, circling it warily. Scans register nothing too strange, but it had been the same before. The lack of visible bugs is an improvement. Though is that...?

A user. Inactive. Glitched, or just shut down?

When Mephistophles looks up, he'll find a rumbling program standing just in front, helmet angled down in sharp inspection. A few red-orange streaks of light mark either side of the mask, continuing down in sparse points and patterns across the flexible dark armor. Someone's out of uniform today. The shape is human, but there's something about the complete stillness that suggests otherwise. Especially for any life-form that needs to breathe.]

[syntheticated]

[ It's not the first peculiar thing he's ever seen. The stillness, too, pulls at something deep inside him, reminds him of home, and though his own necessity to breathe is a mimicry of the life around him, Mephistopheles doesn't register the lack of movement as anything particularly wrong. What he does find strange, however, is the silence. The Ninth is not much for quiet, though the chatter that sparks such contest between its inhabitants is only so loud around Lucifer himself, and he has yet to find others who share the same passion as he does for solitude. Master Rum could have been taught, but he was young, small. There's restlessness in youth that Mephistopheles doesn't envy. So, looking at this... person? It didn't matter much to him.

He tilts his head enough to get a better look, trying to determine what he should do or how he should address them. Would they speak if he even tried? ]

Are you lost? [ It seems fitting to ask, voice even and almost monotone. There is no other way to be in hell; Mephistopheles' sense of respect is ingrained in him to the core. ]

[notglitching]

[Silence—at least, in contrast to speech—is a requirement for Clu's enforcer. Vocal functions aren't anything Rinzler has been permitted on his own in any but his earliest memories. The only sound Mephistophles will hear in answer is the same background noise that marked the program's approach: a constant, quiet, rattle, like a hard drive skipping with each spin.

Still, confirm/deny is all this query asks for, and Rinzler shakes his head without hesitation. Not lost. An odd question from a user(?) curled up on the ground. His stare lingers just a moment longer (clearly active, but its signature scans oddly) before he glances up to the tree-plant, mask angling to the side. Does the user know anything about it?]

[syntheticated]

[ That sort of sound doesn't register to him as speech or much of anything else, though it's something unusual he hasn't quite heard before. Yet, as is his requirement, Mephistopheles is quick to pick up on anything that might be a substitute for it, and he pulls himself into a neater sitting position, looking in the direction he indicates with the turn of his helmet. There's no curiosity as to what might be underneath, and he doesn't bother to ask. ]

I don't know it's purpose. [ Given their whereabouts, however, he suspects it has something to do with atmosphere and the nature of humans. ] But it does go below us. Do you want to look? [ Mephistopheles had caught only a glimpse of that before coming here. Further exploring couldn't hurt, he supposes. ]

[notglitching]

[Rinzler's own suspicions run more along the lines of resource-waste; potential threat. But he's slightly biased on that count. Still, better to gather all the data available... even if his calculations nearly stall with unease at the revelation that the plant is reaching (spreading?) underneath.

The enforcer nods. Yes, he wants to look. Say, now.]

[syntheticated]

[ Mephistopheles doesn't mind the quiet, so he nods too and shifts to push to his feet, dusting the sides of his pants off before looking back at Rinzler. There are so many things he thinks he might want to ask, but the lack of insistence is something he will eventually have to face. Either way, they have a task now, and he'll lead him around to the steps that take them down. Once at the bottom, he glances toward the roots and frowns. ]

Something doesn't feel right about this place. [ An observation only. Maybe it doesn't have the same effect on everyone. ]

[notglitching]

[There's no response, at least not straight away. Rinzler is busy pacing the dimensions of the space, scans and visuals checking for any sign of threat. Certainly, that's all the enforcer would like to sense. But no, he can feel it too. Not a scan, nothing seen or touched or heard. Just disquiet, creeping and brushing at the surface of his code. Like an embedded memory, waiting to be noticed.

Something is supposed to happen here. The conclusion isn't rational, but it's hard to wipe, and more so as his steps return to center. The program pauses, mask angling towards the column of roots, then back to the user. The movement is strangely hesitant. After a moment, his left hand crosses to his right wrist, bringing up a holographic display. A single line of text outputs, angled toward the user.]

Function?

[syntheticated]

[ While he paces, Mephistopheles looks once more at their surroundings. The odd background behind the roots reminds him of some ruins he'd seen once in the depths of hell, something just as unknown and forgotten as this seems to be. He considers touching it but keeps his hands at his sides, content to watch the other move and examine the base of the tree. Theoretically, the question shouldn't surprise him, and he should know its function. Yet, there's a certain hesitance of his own that delays any sort of response, glancing at the display and back to the roots. ]

I don't know. [ A pause, and then, he tries: ] They're supposed to give life, but out of the ground... There is no source to draw from in the air like this. [ Maybe it was a space thing? A ship thing? Mephistopheles hadn't been there long enough to determine what that meant or what any of this would mean by the end of it. ]