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thisavrou_ooc2015-09-12 11:32 pm
hownkai) wrote in thisavrou_ooc2015-09-12 11:32 pm
Entry tags:
TDM 2
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 the planet's gravitational field; however, more noticeable changes can be found in the overall morale as you prepare to descend.
☄ in the mess hall:
Things have been pretty smooth sailing thus far. There haven't been any unexpected horrors or accidents, and no one has gone missing. Later in the evening, you find yourself hungry and decide to check out what's on the menu. Making your way toward the mess hall, you discover that the door is closed and a sign has been posted directly in the center. It reads:
We don't know who did this or why, but action will be taken if it is not fixed immediately.
At the bottom, in very small print, it is signed by the captains. Venturing inside, you find something irregular about the room, and it's not what you might have thought. Finding the culprit, however, is hardly on anyone's mind. In fact, the kitchen has been closed until everything on the tables has been "fixed". Decadent foods and desserts from many of the planets explored in the past are laid out like a feast. There might even be liquor, but who knows how strong that stuff is. Consider this a thank you for all the hard work and effort you've put forth as a valuable crew member. Whoever said the mess hall wasn't for messes was sadly misinformed! It's party time.
☄ on your own:
There are plenty of other communal areas on the ship to explore! Pick a place, and see where it takes you.
Unlike some of the previously found planets, this one is populated. However, the majority of the natives are located in one central area near a very large body of water. At some point, it might have been a lake, but due to some abnormal constructional designs, it has been transformed into a well-maintained connection of underwater cities. Still, accessing them may prove to be difficult. Your MID warns of no pollutants in either the air or water. Yet, it has problems translating the language spoken between these humanoid beings—if they even speak at all. Most of them appear friendly, more than welcoming, but what's to be said about someone (or something) that doesn't wish to talk?
☄ the submerged:
I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary.
Exploring the surrounding areas, which consist of marshes and some small trees, doesn't yield much. There are little resources and no fauna to speak of. The natives continue to lure whoever dares to follow closer to the water, their gestures open and curious. There is nothing to hint at the dangers that await anyone who wanders within arm's length of the shore, and if you do... Hopefully you weren't traveling alone and a friend is there to attempt dragging you away from the tight grip of the thing suddenly yanking you into the murk of that lake. They will fight to keep you, sink their hands and fins deep enough to draw blood; it calls more of them up from the depths to bring you down. For they need you like air, are desperate to call you their own, and if you surrender, how are you to ever describe the the last thing you see?
Is that what happened to the all those ships found crashed here and there, buried beneath mud and moss? Is this what became of the people aboard them? How ironic the dead say even less than the things that got you.
Exploring the surrounding areas, which consist of marshes and some small trees, doesn't yield much. There are little resources and no fauna to speak of. The natives continue to lure whoever dares to follow closer to the water, their gestures open and curious. There is nothing to hint at the dangers that await anyone who wanders within arm's length of the shore, and if you do... Hopefully you weren't traveling alone and a friend is there to attempt dragging you away from the tight grip of the thing suddenly yanking you into the murk of that lake. They will fight to keep you, sink their hands and fins deep enough to draw blood; it calls more of them up from the depths to bring you down. For they need you like air, are desperate to call you their own, and if you surrender, how are you to ever describe the the last thing you see?
Is that what happened to the all those ships found crashed here and there, buried beneath mud and moss? Is this what became of the people aboard them? How ironic the dead say even less than the things that got you.
For mature or graphic content, please label. Test Drive Memes are not game canon but can be used as samples in applications. For questions, please direction them to the FAQ. As always, be kind and have fun!
[ art credit ]
Mess Hall
This is no small task: The mere idea of a feast is about as foreign of a concept as you could possibly get for a strict rule follower like Peridot. Gems don't need to eat, and Homeworld gems certainly don't party. The scene of crew members milling about the room, stuffing disgusting foreign, greasy objects into their gobs while laughing and joking with one another, actually makes her scoff out loud with derision, because this kind of behavior is downright unbelievable. It just goes to confirm her suspicions that non-gems are all inferior idiots; the sign on the door had mentioned there was a problem to be corrected in here, so why are these dolts socializing when they should be working? Is consuming garbage how other species deal with cleaning up?
After a few minutes of scornful scoffing, she decides to show these idiots how to get the job done properly, snatching up a platter of delicious looking sandwiches and a whole bowl of a decadent chocolate pudding. Then she sets eyes on the nearest trash chute, marches over, and promptly disposes of the sandwiches, platter and all. You're next, pudding.
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Bel, at least, assumes this weird green person is a kid-- she certainly doesn't show any age she might have-- but lets its voice snap in irritation all the same. Sure, in a sanely designed spaceship or station, throwing out food isn't that much of a waste, the organic compounds recycled into growing vat meat or fertilizing hydroponics, but it's pretty sure that this ship is not sanely designed, and that this might be the best food they'll get all month.
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Mostly she wants to drag Peridot into the swimming pool and keep her there, but the rec room isn't close enough. Maybe another day.
She pulls the spoon from her mouth and sniffs. "You shouldn't do that."
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When she turns to see who's lecturing her this time, she registers her fellow gem with an undignified squawk, and fumbles the bowl of casserole that she was in the middle of carrying to its demise. It lands face down on the floor and splatters everywhere.
Peridot scarcely even reacts to that, though. She's too busy staring at Lapis with her teeth bared in a hideous grimace. "You!"
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"That's right, me." She wrinkles her nose as she glances at the trashcan. "Anyways you're going to get in trouble. So you should stop."
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"Everyone here looks ready to take you outside."
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Of course, Peridot talks a big game, but she seems a little bit more tense all of a sudden nonetheless. She's reasonably certain that she can take a bunch of flesh-bags like that... but she's also not made for combat, and has a healthy fear of getting in over her head.
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Incidentally, the same suspicions do not apply to the alcohol laid out on the table, which he is consuming with abandon. Though he's also, like, scooping liquor bottles onto the floor at the same time? For some reason?
"Hey," he calls out to her, waiting until he has her attention before tipping a bottle onto the floor. It cracks from the impact, though it doesn't shatter into a zillion pieces or anything. Shards of glass are things he'd like to avoid, frankly. "Here's some more for you to clean up."
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Bristling, she turns on her heel and tries to focus on other things. It probably wouldn't do to maim a crew mate for being a rude little shit, even if he is a stinking human...
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"Malfunctioning, obviously." Since she's throwing things out that are perfectly fine (suspiciously perfectly fine) and ignoring this nice broken bottle he just dropped on the floor. The absolute nerve. "Doesn't bode well."