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thisavrou_ooc2015-08-04 11:09 am
hohnkai) wrote in thisavrou_ooc2015-08-04 11:09 am
Entry tags:
TDM 1
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.
☄ on the aft:
Offering an unobstructed view, it's quite easy to see stars that are still light years away. Like your own personal observatory, things are relatively quiet since other members are busy. While visiting, your steps may feel lighter as the ship's gravity is affected most here, but don't worry! The barrier surrounding the aft will keep you from floating away. Take note: if you happen to find yourself alone, no matter how brief, you may hear a distant echo — like a voice calling to you. For the most part, it's harmless. However, those curious enough to attempt to heed those words may find themselves suddenly jettisoned into space through a momentary lapse in the Moira's safety systems.
Hopefully you're wearing your thermals! The MID relay will alert the ship of this emergency, but who knows how long it will take for someone to retrieve you.
Hopefully you're wearing your thermals! The MID relay will alert the ship of this emergency, but who knows how long it will take for someone to retrieve you.
☄ in the mess hall:
It's breakfast time! On the buffet lining the back wall, you'll find an assortment of hurriedly prepared foods, but it's not the rations you've been accustomed to since the last port. There are stacks of green pancakes that taste like stale yet metallic bread. Are those eggs? Yes. Do they taste good? Probably not. Since supplies are scarce, there isn't much else to eat. The water might seem a bit brown, but is that really water you're drinking? After a while, depending on how much you've drank, you start to feel lightheaded... That's some strong space liquor right there.
☄ on your own:
There are plenty of other communal areas on the ship to explore! Pick a place, and see where it takes you.
From the outside, Hyacintho appears to be devoid of natives. Its landscape is sparse of vegetation with many slow-flowing streams tinted a murky blue. Craggy rock formations jut up randomly from the ground, hinting at abrupt development and are razor-sharp to the touch. Upon further exploration, dome-like structures can be found and appear to be abandoned settlements. Some are smaller and clustered close to the ground while others are elevated and connected by swinging bridges. Watching your MID here is critical; it monitors atmospheric composition with steady beeps that signal hazardous conditions. Staying on Hyacintho's surface for extended periods of time is ill-advised.
☄ the dormant volcanoes:
Scoping Hyacintho's peculiar topography leads to the discovery of inactive volcanoes and lava tubes. Some are easily accessible while others take more effort to reach—it's a steep climb to the vent. The ground shifts under your feet and can make walking difficult. Yet, the closer you come to a particular one, you may notice subtle changes in temperature and the air smelling faintly of sulfur. Perhaps this planet isn't as latent as you first thought.
Around midday, vibrations are unexpectedly felt and whatever light from Hyacintho's suns is blotted out by ashy clouds the same color as the ground. Small pockets of blue lava seep from those sharp rock formations, and that light sulfuric smell has now become increasingly overwhelming. Time to make a quick escape back to the Moira!
Around midday, vibrations are unexpectedly felt and whatever light from Hyacintho's suns is blotted out by ashy clouds the same color as the ground. Small pockets of blue lava seep from those sharp rock formations, and that light sulfuric smell has now become increasingly overwhelming. Time to make a quick escape back to the Moira!
☄ the delirium:
When something terrible happens, sometimes it leaves a trace, a wound that acts as a knot between two timelines. It's like an echo repeated over and over, waiting to be heard... Like a scar or a pinch that begs for a caress to relieve it. An itch under your skin or a memory fading before your eyes.
The faint sound of your MID has grown unreasonably loud. In the back of your mind, you know what it means, but you're too lethargic to attend to its warning. Where once you believed Hyacintho to be absent of life, it is now overrun. Falling back to the safety of the ship is now much too difficult to do quickly. Your limbs are heavy, the natives' faces blurry and unrecognizable as if they're a great distance away, but you swear you can feel them breathing on your neck, dragging their hands down your arms and back. You struggle, falling over yourself and are swayed by the delusions you are rapidly succumbing to. Yet, somehow, the Moira is just ahead. Within reach. Are you at the door now? Are your friends with you to drag you inside? Are they even calling to you?
You ask yourself why you're breathing so heavily.
You aren't.
The faint sound of your MID has grown unreasonably loud. In the back of your mind, you know what it means, but you're too lethargic to attend to its warning. Where once you believed Hyacintho to be absent of life, it is now overrun. Falling back to the safety of the ship is now much too difficult to do quickly. Your limbs are heavy, the natives' faces blurry and unrecognizable as if they're a great distance away, but you swear you can feel them breathing on your neck, dragging their hands down your arms and back. You struggle, falling over yourself and are swayed by the delusions you are rapidly succumbing to. Yet, somehow, the Moira is just ahead. Within reach. Are you at the door now? Are your friends with you to drag you inside? Are they even calling to you?
You ask yourself why you're breathing so heavily.
You aren't.
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no subject
Make sure you mark it, then. It's obvious the cook has no idea what he's serving up. That guy looks a little tough for people lacking in teeth like yours.
[ Still, the terrible topic has him glancing up at her from under the brim of his cap, giving her a wry smirk. Whatever she is, at least she has a sense of humor. He can roll with that. ]
The name's Joker. Also not a vegetarian but not quite desperate enough to resort to hairy marines just yet.
no subject
[ Seriously, Joker, you're supposed to clean the meat first. No one wants hair in their hairy marine rump roast.
And he had better hope she's joking. Hope. Rinth's pretty obviously a carnivore and, well, there wasn't exactly any meat on the menu today. Well, regardless of whether or not this really is all just one long joke, she does at least seem less wary. The name he offers garners a wrinkled nose, however. ]
Joker? Don't tell me you're called that because it's your job. [ You never know. ] Rinth Ghostshot, Iron Legion, making no promises to label any parts of humans she might freeze.
no subject
[ He lives in space, kitty-cat. Their food gets on the ship already processed into edible states. And ration bars, but that's a questionable edible state, in his opinion. ]
And surprisingly enough, back when I earned the nickname it was because I worked too hard and never smiled enough. Once I showed them I could fly circles around the lot of them, I lived up to it by never letting them forget it. Now I suppose it is my job. Someone's gotta make the witty commentary when everything goes to shit.
Iron Legion, huh? That a military group? Mercenary? [ She's a fighter of some sort, he's guessing. Look at her. ]
no subject
[ Then thank goodness she will never live to see space travel for the Charr. Though they would probably find a way to make meat last in space, somehow. Eating people aside, she squints at his explanation, sizing him up all over again.
This time he'll fare a little better. Not for the witty commentary, but for apparently having some kind of skill. ]
Flying what? [ She asks that, head tilting curiously. Since humans can't fly, must be an object. ] And all legions are military. Doesn't matter which you're born into.