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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. ) C R O M I AWhile exhibits or museums exist to commemorate people or objects, planets like this are designed as a memoriam for certain eras across the universe. Welcome to Cromia—a one-of-a-kind place set in medieval times. Sort of. Most technology on Cromia isn’t particularly advanced, and the fashion leaves little to be desired. However, one thing is very noticeable about this planet once you decide to explore: there are no organic people anywhere to be found. Cromia is inhabited by a race of intelligent, humanoid robots who tend to and care for the environment as well as live peacefully with one another. Yet, some have been programmed to show a certain disdain for those who are, in some way, living, and their hostility ranges between hurling insults and vegetables to reporting trespassers to the authorities. Besides that, all seems well and prosperous on Cromia.
☄ the emperor’s new servosThe Royal Family of Cromia has extended an invitation to join them for festivities, food, and drink beginning when the first sun sets. This night is a way to relax and perhaps romance that special someone in your life with a little song and dance. For those who sample certain drinks, they might find themselves doing just that without being able to help themselves. Or perhaps that delicious wine you've heard so much about is actually a very oily concoction meant for the robots of Cromia. For others, a little cheese or venison might instill the need for fisticuffs. Could the desserts hold the same sort of enchantment? Do you dare to find out? ☄ catch-a-riiiideThe fastest way to get around is via carriage in the city, and each city is pulled by a large insectoid cyborg. Their handlers assure you they’re quite tame, especially since their silly organic minds have been implanted with a control chip. They’ll take you to whatever destination you program in without a hiccup! What could go wrong? Except on the way, that ever-so-important control chip happens to malfunction. Your once docile bug-stallion is now running amok down the streets. Do you jump out before you meet a sticky end? Or do you take control and force it to stop? Either way, you aren’t likely to be getting your deposit back from this. ☄ taste the rainbowArchery. Bugback riding. Jousting. These are the typical leisure activities suiting the time period you now find yourself in, which is what you might assume when you see the banners denoting a competition. Anyone can enter. Anyone can win the prizes. When you ask what sport you’ll have to play, they just say one word: skittles. Similar to bowling, this sport is played on a long, flattened field, and the point of it is to use the wooden ball to knock over the "skittles" that are set up in increasingly complex patterns for each round. These skittles are also made of wood, exactly ten feet high each, and the balls used vary from the size of a golf ball to a canon ball (dealer’s choice on ball size). People are usually split into teams, but for the sake of the competition, everyone plays alone. Whoever gets the most points moves forward in the competition, and hope that there are no accidents mid-throw!
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_ooc2016-04-11 01:44 am
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[She's waiting, with a bit of a smirk and a slightly cocked brow. Please regale her with your information, Drake.]
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[His grin is cocky, confident, very sure of himself.]
feel free 2 drop if this is 2 late :V
[The laugh she lets out is singular, loud and absolutely derisive. This guy.]
Tell me, Nathan Drake of Nowhere, have you considered the idea of finding more information than most would ever care to know? Or possibly making an entire fraud of an identity?
[She starts to circle him, like a panther, like some enormous beast stalking and toying with her prey.]
Have you considered, oh, I don't know, hacking into an entire interface attached to a human being? You learn so much by simply sitting idly on someone's arm. [She brings up her prosthetic left arm, fingers flipping an invisible knife. Those are, most definitely, diamonds encrusted into the metal.] An arm not unlike this one. I could make people do so much on a whim. Besides, most keyboard jockeys aren't nearly as well-trained as I am.
[Now she's just making a show of herself to gauge the man. She could be lying, she could be telling the truth. And even then? She's not sharing anything that isn't new.]
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Bullshit. That sounds like a bad setup for a sci-fi show.
[Or at least his idea of one. He doesn't spend a lot of time watching those things.]
Besides, people might like their smartphones a little too much, but I wouldn't say anyone's attached to their 'interfaces.'
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I am. Unfortunately. Not as much as others, but it's not much of a secret this beast of mine is wired directly into the rest of me.
[Unsettling as it all is, it's facts for her. She uses technology, not becomes one with it. The interface is still working its way into her nerves, getting a feel for her, and her for it.]
It may be bullshit to you, but it's all very real. [Isha stops, narrows her eyes.] But something tells me you won't believe it anyway, will you, Nowhere Man? This isn't real to you.
[Much in the same way she doesn't think any of this is real either. Though he is eerily real-seeming to her.]
You're still on smartphones. We've moved past those ages ago.
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Uh-huh.
[It still sounds like bullshit to Nate, but she's giving him a look like he's the idiot. Which, admittedly, is not an uncommon look for him to get, but it's also not accurate. He's neither an idiot nor bullheaded enough to cling to preconceptions that are proved wrong.]
I'll believe a lot of things, but not blindly. Past smartphones, huh? You wanna tell me when you're from, along with where?
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[She'll leave out the Interpol details for the moment. No need to toss those credentials out yet...
Not that it would make a difference if this place is at all real. She assumes Interpol doesn't have jurisdiction in space.]
You?
I don't know what year UC3 takes place so I'll just bullshit this
2014, most recently Yemen on the Arabian Peninsula. But they grabbed me literally out of the air, so.
[He shrugs. It's not like he has a real home anymore, not even with Sully. He'd been expecting to make a new one shortly, but...]
I guess I am a little behind the times.
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[He's really not all that ancient, just a little under 200 years, if she's half-assing her math.
But. A living person from 2014 could may as well constitute as ancient.]</small<
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[He should know. Apparently this chick isn't any caliber of historian.]
So. If you're from my future, you've got to answer a burning question of mine. When the hell do we finally get flying cars?
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There are some, but the gasoline is too much for most people to afford.
[Said very matter-of-factly. She supposed she could see the use in one, but her work is done on the streets.]
You'd be better with a motorcycle.
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[Maybe she's just bullshitting, but Nate chooses to believe, because flying cars. That's great. He wants that to be part of the future, so he'll buy into the bullshit.]
I'm definitely going to find a way to artificially extend my lifespan, then. I've got to get in on that. I'll steal the gasoline if I need to.
[Or possibly as a first resort.]
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[Is she kidding, is she not? Who knows.]
There are better things than flying cars, you know. So many more things.
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I kinda doubt that, but tell me one or two.
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[She cleans her sunglasses before passing them off to him.]
Careful, those are name brand, and hand-crafted. Put them on, give them a try.
[And when he puts them on? He's going to see way more information than he bargained for on the display: distance, measurements, facial readings, and so on.]
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[He can't assume that every spacefaring traveler here is from the future when bullshit is a much more likely option, after all. But he shrugs and puts on the sunglasses.]
Holy fuck--!
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[She makes two L shapes with her fingers, as if she were making a frame now]
and let the camera focus on it. Some of the gestures from the smartphones stayed the same, so I should hope you know what I mean when I say by try zooming with your fingers.
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[Nate might be tech-dumb compared to what Isha is used to, but he's not actually dumb, and he has touched a smartphone before. He's able to follow her directions and get the desired results fairly easily.]
How do you process all this information?
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You get used to it after a while. I've been using this sort of thing since I was a child. I learned to read that before I could count properly.
[Which is a bit of a lie, but who cares? Her father taught her how to sort useful from useless since she was a child.]
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[The tone isn't as skeptical as it should be, though he's clearly not accepting her words as gospel truth. Before counting? Riiiight. But she's not lying about this being a thing, so who knows when it actually gets taught.]
What do you use it all for?
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[Said so casually that she could might as well be joking about it.
Except, not really...]
Well, thieving, at some point, between jobs and recruitments, of course. You have no idea how many people I have to vet personally before having to deal with them...
[Isha sighs one of those melodramatic, long-suffering sighs. Kadin had, at least, made good on the deal that anyone with the intention of working on the team would need to be reviewed personally.
It was a huge pain in the ass.]
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Pretty discerning, for a thief. [He raises an eyebrow.] But not too worried about revealing yourself as one. For all you know, I could be a real law and order type, take a dim view of that.
[He's not, but he could have been, maybe, if only someone had intervened before he gained the motor coordination to grab things and walk away.]
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but here's a real tag now
[She fishes out a real-deal, solid badge from beneath her clothing, gold and blue, emblazoned with the words INTERPOL and a globe flanked by scales, olive wreaths, and a sword cutting through the center.]
Order? Not so much. Manchester and IGCI turn a blind eye towards that sort of behavior.
[If only because she was too good at her job, as was the rest of her team.
Isha stows it away again, with little ceremony.]
Besides, you'd either be a damn good undercover cop or you're not so different from me. I know the law and order types. You don't fit it too well.
[Instinct told her he was a thief as well, but what sort, she couldn't say. There's too many kinds of thieves, each distinctly dangerous. What could this Nathan Drake be? Perhaps he'd reveal himself.]