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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 ownThere 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. ) ☄ round 'em upThe day begins normally. You check out the mess hall and report to your assigned job, and so far, nothing seems incredibly out of place. However, as the hours pass, you begin to notice something strange scurrying along wall edges and into open vents. For the most part, these rodents are harmless—in this stage. While they may get into the food supply in the Cargo Bay or terrorize those in the kitchen, they are not violent and appear to be skittish. However, once they've "matured" - the color of their tail will have changed from a light gray to a very dark purple, prompting them to enter a temporary stasis inside a cocoon - they aren't so cute anymore. These paklers are vicious, will bite if they're caught, and defend themselves with claws as well as the protrusions on their bodies. There is nothing to be done about them except capture them and eject them into space as they are considered a pest and very harmful to the crew and the ship. Once they run out of food, they will turn on each other as well as anything resembling a living creature. The captains provide the proper equipment, electric nets as well as tranquilizers, to assist with the capture of the paklers and their immediate removal from the Moira.
☄ what's yours is mineSomething seems a bit off about the laundry delivery service these days, doesn't it? Has the Moira always had one of those? Whether you realize it immediately or not, something is very wrong about the clothes that have suddenly appeared in your wardrobe. They are either much too big or far too small, and as far as you can tell, there seems to be no happy medium in all of this. Will you Dress To Impress in your new uniforms? Will you swap with someone who might be a similar size regardless of the fact their uniform colors are not the same as your own? Or will you simply walk naked through the halls of the ship, carefree and bare to the rest of your crewmates?
☄ n'syncWhile exploring the ship, first down one hall and then another, you come across a strange door you've never seen before. When you pull it open, you'll find someone, a crew member, standing on the other side, hand outstretched as if they've just opened that door from the opposite side. Every move you make, they mirror, and if they shift to the left or right, you also shift left or right. Absolutely everything the both of you do is the same except for the words that come out of your mouth; somehow, you still manage to maintain the ability to talk without mimicking your partner. You're unable to completely control your movements again until someone says "in sync". Good luck figuring out the magic words, and if you decide to question the captains (or anyone else) about it, they won't have any idea what it is you're talking about.
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thisavrou_ooc2016-03-06 11:21 pm
no subject
He could hurt Miles now, he's pretty sure. There are things Mark can do without much fear of harm despite his appearance he's not sure Miles can get away with- for one, he's wearing the leg braces that suggest his legs are still brittle.
He's not powerless here. Oddly, it helps him relax a little, despite how little he likes this whole mirroring business.]
You're not doing this, are you? This whole- this.
[He waves a hand, demonstrating.]
...Not deliberately, anyway.
no subject
[ miles's hand waves along with mark's and he looks as disconcerted as mark had been when miles nearly walked into him just ten minutes ago. that same thought occurs to miles as his hand chances a little too close to the wall in that gesture, and takes a prudent step back away from the wall, strategically angling it so that mark won't wind up backing into anything on his end. he lets his hand fall to his side and heaves a frustrated sigh. ]
It's this damned ship. [ his gaze drops down to his wet pant leg, now mostly cooled, and his lips pull back from his teeth in agitation. ] I swear, every month it's some fresh brand of horseshit or another, and I'm getting tired of it. There's got to be something...
no subject
[That sounds... astonishingly paranoid, even to Mark. Admittedly, he hasn't been here that long, but nothing yet has given him any kind of reason to think anything weird is going on- until today, at least.
He settles into a defensive stance, weight balanced evenly across his legs, the better to take a deep breath. Part of him still suspects Miles of having some kind of hand in this, somehow, a trap Mark isn't sure how he set up but wouldn't trust him not to.]
...How long have you been here?
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[ it's half-muttered to himself, a displeased twist to his lips. seriously, moira, he's getting tired of this. he blinks back into focus on mark's face as his body shifts slightly of its own volition -- or mark's -- shrugging just slightly. ]
Over six months, now. I came in with the first wave, and since then we've all been witness to some astonishing horseshit I would previously have thought impossible. This is new, though.
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[He frowns, not willing to let it go. Honestly, he's pretty sure there was never anything about delusions in anything he had to learn about Miles, but he wouldn't be surprised. And he does look pretty tired.]
The way we don't seem to be able to get away from each other, or me being here?
[Mark's turn to mutter, half-defensive. He's used to Miles chasing him; for some reason, the thought of Miles not chasing him makes him feel a little off-balance.]
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[ jury's out on whether this is a hallucination or not. this whole...being stuck in mirror-mode is just jarring enough to be the stuff of miles's personal nightmares, although if this is his new recurring nightmare, he'll gladly take this over everything else. the scald of coffee on his leg certainly felt real enough, though. miles finds himself needing to resist the urge to rub his face once again, only partly because it'd force mark to do the same.
miles blinks owlishly at him instead and then smiles just slightly, all irony. ]
The latter? Most certainly. The former, well -- that's a matter of perspective, I suppose.
[ is he making sense? he sure hopes he's making sense. he's trying to make sense. ]
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[The stupid gate had delivered him without boots, too. He hopes it gives them back when he goes back, considering they're part of the uniform he has stashed away in his room. A uniform he still might need, one day.
He scowls at Miles furiously, not enjoying the irony.]
I've tried to get away from you. It's always you who won't let me go.
[No-one ever said Mark made much sense, between the wanting and the stubborn refusal to accept help from anyone.]
no subject
No, you're hardly alone in that.
[ there's truth in mark's words. letting go has...never been miles's forte. and god knows he'd tried hard to hold onto mark, back on earth. it hadn't worked. miles has to keep forcibly reminding himself that. ]
I let you go on Earth, didn't I? With a small fortune, as I recall. I didn't bring you here, Mark, no more than you did. Fate, coincidence, whatever you want to call it -- it just is. Some things we don't get a choice in. It just makes all the other choices count that much more.
[ rambling again? yeah, he's having that problem worse than usual. miles blinks again and tries to reel himself in. miles's gaze flicks down to his coffee-soaked pant leg and sighs. ]
Look, I'd put a stop to this nonsense if I knew how, but I don't, and my leg is very wet and I'm starting to get coffee in my boot, so as long as we're stuck in sync, d'you think you could work with me long enough to get a towel, at least?
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[He bites the words off, unwilling to let the chance to be just a little malicious pass by. He's had the talk about choices he doesn't get to make before (that endless, infuriating, echoing "Mark Pierre Vorkosigan"), and honestly, he's not sure he likes it any more now than he did before.
Belligerently, he shakes his head. Damp trousers and boots aren't that much of an inconvenience, but if it is one, it's only a tiny fraction of the inconvenience Miles has caused him just by existing. It's only after he does it he realises Miles head isn't shaking with his, and tentatively, he takes a step back, seeing the result.]
Get your own towel.
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[ miles's brow creases, but then he realizes he's not mirroring mark, nor vice versa, and he blinks. he looks down at his own hand and flexes it experimentally. ]
Ah.
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[Well, okay, eighteen months of hiding, six months of planning how best to steal Miles' ship from under him, same difference and Miles doesn't need to know that.]
Why, losing track of time now?
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Not on that scale. [ he smiles tiredly. ] The Ingress does this funny thing sometimes where it pulls us from all different points in our own timeline. For me, when I showed up, it'd only been a few months since I left Earth.
[ but apparently he keeps trying to reach out to mark in his near future. should he be? ]
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[He might not be Miles levels of quick, but he had to learn to be observant for Galen. To pick up on things, if they'd help his cover stay intact.]
So it thinks its funny, then. I guess that explains why we're both here, anyway, but it can't make me interact with you. Stay out of my way.
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I'm not in your way.
[ go on, mark. miles feels that one day you'll figure out that you're the only thing really in your way. ]