tdm 3

[hohnkai]

OCTOBER TEST DRIVE MEME

---

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.

AREA 895B EXPLORATION

Most of this colony has certainly seen better days--on the inside. Upon disembarking the Moira, crew members will notice that Area 895B appears poor but densely populated. It’s a mid-point between several planets, so the culture and its people are incredibly diverse. The docks are intricate and woven together like a maze, and without direction or the numerous signs that decorate the walls, it’s a place one can easily find themselves lost in. The “city proper” consists mostly of slums, but as aboard the ship, there is plenty to do and see.

● bars: A-895B is notorious for them! In fact, there seems to be one on almost every corner that caters to a different sort of clientele. Poor, rich, richer. Do some of them even have an escort service? Most likely, yes.
● sanctuary: Like a church, this building stands tall and proud in the center of the colony. Its structure seems to be in constant change; it is always being worked on. Yet, once inside, the interior is quiet and consists of many, many staircases. Along each step, there are so many candles that there is only enough room for safe passage up or down…
● market: A good place to barter and trade. Like most areas, anything can be haggled for as long as you’re willing to pay the price.

☄ exchange booth:

Throughout random locations in A-895B, crew members will happen upon simple booths with little decoration and a native sitting behind it. For those with experience, they might think it resembles something like a kissing booth. However, these kisses are more an exchange than anything else: trade and receive a “gift”. These gifts will vary depending, but they are all contained inside a tiny box. Could it be something you were missing from home? Is it an item you’ve wanted for the last several trips planet-side? How did they even know, and what’s the catch?

A day of your life taken with that kiss. Should that not be enough to not ask such questions?

---

OUT OF CHARACTER INFO

FAQ | LOCATIONS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS | NAVIGATION

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 zarnala @ devart ]

Comments

Evan Sabahnur/Genesis | Marvel 616

[theseconddawn]

Mess Hall

[Evan still finds it a little hard to approach people. They might say all these people come from other worlds, other timelines, but it's still hard to believe no-one will recognise him. After the inversion, especially, when he made that announcement as Apocalypse. And even if they don't know who he is specifically- well, he's pretty recognisably non-human, being kind of grey and all.

But this is a ship, and people on a ship- they have to be able to rely on each other, right? And he's already at a few disadvantages, between his face and his age, so- he really has to make himself known to people, make it so they know he can trust him, even if it's hard. Right?

It takes a lot of courage, but eventually he takes his tray over to a partly-occupied table, for once glad his face hides how he's really feeling.]

Sorry, but, um, do you mind if I sit here...?

Planet-side

[He's very much too young for bars, regardless of the times Quentin's tried to drag him into one, so he spends most of his time in the bazaar. It's actually amazing; he's not even the strangest-looking person here, no-one really looks twice, and he can find all sort of cool-looking things even if he has no idea what they do. He even buys a couple of things, using the coinage in his pockets.

He spends a little time in the church, wandering the stairs just looking around, apologising if he bumps into anyone.

And eventually- yes, he can be seen with a tiny box. He won't even notice a year of his life, when he can live for thousands; eternal life is Apocalypse's obsession, and he is not Apocalypse. The box contains a snowglobe, nothing else, containing a model of a slightly battered looking farmhouse surrounded by corn.]

mess hall;

[moralperil]

[There is a definite air of youthfulness about the person sitting at the table. Clare is 4'11'', delicate underneath a cloud of dark hair that refuses to be restrained by an attempt at a ponytail. Though decidedly human in appearance, their eyes are a vivid, bright purple. Also strange is their manner of speaking: lilting and cheerful, almost musical, like someone who learned to sing before they could speak. Like someone who is perhaps still learning to speak after a lifetime of only singing.

Clare's age and gender, often matters of human obsession, are indeterminate - or perhaps simply open to interpretation.]

Oh, absolutely! There are so many exciting people around here I couldn't decide who I should befriend first, and now you've saved me the trouble.

[Clare pats the spot beside them.]

Sit, sit!

mess hall

[brosbeforeprose]

[Nothing they've told him about this place - and they told him a few things - has made sense. Universes. Timelines. Space. Those words mean nothing, and trying to apply them to his own understanding of the world around him is like slotting a square peg in a round hole.

The mess - for that's where he found himself after wandering for some indeterminate period - looks less like one he'd recognise from a ship (and when Varric thinks of a ship, he thinks of the seafaring variety), and more like something a dwarven architect might have had a wet dream about once. Everything's metallic, forged together in ways that should, by all rights, be impossible.

And here's Varric, feet several inches off the ground, crossbow nearly his own height slung on his back, squinting down at the, ah...food?...on the metal tray in front of him, when someone - someone young, by the sounds of it - comes and sits down next to him. He doesn't look up for a second, but there's an attempt at an easy smile when he speaks, and he deserves a blighted prize for that right now.] Sure, take a load off. Maybe you can help me figure out...

[That's when he looks up, and he trails off, smile freezing - but only for a heartbeat or two, the length of time it takes him to get past 'weird-looking' and go back to 'whatever he is, he sounds like a kid'. As soon as that click happens in his head, he goes on smoothly, smile becoming something of a wry smirk instead.] ...if anything on this tray is safe to eat.

Lady Alys Vorpatril | The Vorkosigan Saga

[alysvorpatril]

The Observation Deck

Lady Alys may not be in her milieu anymore, but she is always Vor. And the view of space and another world was enough to distract her for a moment from the very uncomfortable circumstances she's found herself in. She didn't have her driver, or her cook, or even her wardrobe. Let alone knowing where Ivan was, or even if she was missed. But even if her uniform was standard issue, Lady Alys managed to make it look as nice as it possibly could with what she had. A little privation would be good for the soul, or at least help her feel as if she's doing her duty to the Empire.

Area 895B

Alys was careful as she explored the station. She hadn't ever been off Barrayar yet, her schedule much too full with Gregor and the Imperial Palace. And well, this wasn't exactly what she thought a properly run station should look like. It rather looked like something someone from Jackson Whole would use as their starter base. But she kept her face carefully blank as she looked around, allowing herself to be curious.

observation deck!

[whatdidisay]

Ivan's first instinct at seeing his mother -- and that is his mother, there's no real way to mistake Lady Alys Vorpatril for anyone else -- is to turn right around and pretend he didn't see her. Experience tells him that it would be a bad idea, and Ivan didn't really feel up to dealing with her disappointment and judgement for something that he could avoid. It would figure, he thought, that he gets to experience the closest thing he's ever come to ship duty and his mother would follow him there.

This didn't happen to people like Miles. Miles gets, well, Ivan doesn't know what Miles gets except for trouble and clones, but at least his parents -- while properly terrifying -- aren't terrifying at him. And neither Uncle Aral or Tante Cordelia are here. So Ivan figured this is still a loss for him.

Putting it off wasn't going to do him any good, and maybe if he got it over with his mother would let him retreat back to the cabin he shared with Gregor and Miles. Ivan brightened slightly, because Gregor still fell under Lady Vorpatril's purview. Maybe he could just gently shift her attentions towards the Emperor and escape. One can hope, anyway.

"Mamere," he began, and then sort of stumbles to a stop. What do you say to your mother in a place like this? She didn't cover it in any of her lessons, so maybe he's off the hook for proper behavior.

Area 895B

[wordstoliveby]

[ Harry had ventured onto the station with the cover story of browsing the markets to find new fabric to add to his stores aboard the ship. He reasoned that any sufficiently urban setting would give him a chance to learn about the best places to quietly acquire new weapons.

On the other hand, when he saw Lady Vorpatril standing alone he could hardly help but feel some concern for her. There was always the possibility of unsavoury elements trying something with a woman alone that he couldn't stomach. He comes up beside her with a polite smile, clearing his throat so as not to surprise her. ]

It's quite the sight, isn't it?

Observation Deck: sorry for the rambling, he's still new for me.

[fallen_judge]

Uniforms that appeared to be standardized for humans didn't work all that well for the ether-breathing Variks. But he did his own duties to help his own people, the old role of his lost house, and he watched.

When House Judgement dissolved into the other houses, they had performed duties as scribes. Variks watched, Variks learned, and Variks remembered. He spoke in stories and riddles because that was how Eliksni history was kept.

To the "Fallen", the humans were as much scavenging rampagers as the Eliksni were accused of being. But he had grown used to being around the Awoken, and even had come to quite like a few. Both the Awoken and the Exos were a little human, so that made him a little more... tender... the word should be. Sensitive towards the creatures that his people had invaded, to take back what they thought would be rightfully theirs.

He knew humans, he knew human (Awoken) nobility, and he could recognize how this lady carried herself, with all the pride of Mara Sov or Petra Venj. Or there was a good chance he was imagining things- they tended to look very much alike. "Variks does not mean to intrude, my lady." He said, words growled and gurgled out from behind his mask. "Is it the great dark, or the strong lights you admire?"

That ill fit uniform had to be tailored to fit a four-armed creature. But the top two were obviously replacement prosthetics, the lower two genuine. And it was with one of the lower ones that he gestured out to the expanse.

Clare | Original

[moralperil]

aboard the moira


mess hall:

[Something smells delicious. Should you follow your nose toward the smell, you will find yourself all but accosted by a slip of a human-like being, 4'11'', delicately built under a cloud of black hair that has been unsuccessfully pulled back into a ponytail. The accosting weapon? A plate of chocolate chip cookies.

Clare is smudged with flour and bits of dough, but the plate in their hand does indeed look like a masterpiece.]

Here, take one!


observation deck;

[On the observation deck, laughter like little chimes can be heard echoing throughout. Should you stop to investigate, Clare will probably attempt to take you by the arm, pointing out at the stars:]

I didn't realize that space is in the sky!


AREA 895B

bar;

[Of all the bars Clare happened to decide to explore, they try to wander into one that actually tries to follow a few rules of conduct. When Clare is unable (or rather, unwilling) to produce an ID with birth date, they are turned away. Clare stomps a tiny foot, not improving chances for being taken seriously.]

I'm old enough to drink alcohol! [Clare insists.] Do I really look too young? [Possibly, depending on who is looking.] I'm like - a kajillion years old! At least. As old as rocks and trees and stuff! I am. [Spotting someone they recognize from the Moira, in spite of being strangers, Clare complains loudly:] Can you believe this?!


exchange booth;

[Clare has not made a purchase. They seem to prefer standing off to one side, glaring daggers at whatever merchant is minding the booth. Should you approach, Clare will gently grab your sleeve.]

I wouldn't if I were you.

bar

[mislay]

[ Junior still has no idea what to think of space. When he'd been a kid, dreams of stuff like this had probably been normal before everything had gone to hell, but it's not as if he'd had time to focus on that sort of stuff after. So, he takes it in stride, and this Area 895B reminds him of home in a way. So much so that he needs a few minutes to process it, wandering the streets and doing his best to blend in. Yet, it's different in that he's the one who sticks out here, and it's frustrating. Frustrating to the point of needing a drink—which is how he finds Clare.

Really, the situation is kind of amusing, and he does his best not to smile, ducking his head a bit until it's smoothed out into a calm sort of expression. He should know better than to get worked up when anything could happen; it had always been implied that was a fault of his. Still, the uncanny fact that this person reminds him of someone he'd lost years ago doesn't go unnoticed, and he hesitates before answering. ]

There's a place down the street that'll probably let you in. You should forget all about this one, and check it out instead. [ Seriously, he'd passed at least five different bars coming here. ]

observation deck

[brosbeforeprose]

[The sky. They're in the blighted sky.

Varric has seen a lot of weird shit in his time, but there is a decidedly gormless look on his face as he walks along the observation deck, staring out into the void itself, stars like light bleeding through holes in a blanket made of sheer, velvety nothing.

Shit.

Shit.]

Andraste's--

[Ass, tits, whatever body part he'd been about to blaspheme in the name of, he's cut off abruptly when someone barely taller than his 4'9'' frame (so she's a tall, misproportioned dwarf or a tiny, tiny human) grabs him and points.

She seems to be over the abject shock. Varric isn't, not yet. His voice is actually a little faint] Space. That sure is a lot of space.

[And apparently, he calls himself a writer.]

exchange booth;

[anotherdid]

[Vanessa is not adjusting. At least not at a speed that would find her well enough to truly enjoy such a place as this. She would, over time, come to a point where she would be able, but as of that moment, she wasn't ready. There was so much interesting material to observe and absorb, and it was all so different than what she was accustomed to.

She keeps her step light as she makes her way down a street that has seen better days, eyes flicking side to side to take it all in.]

Pardon me?

[It was unorthodox. To trade such a boon, a kiss and a day of your unlived life, for a prize.]

Ashley Williams | Mass Effect

[cannotrest]

(OOC: Despite the icons, she's from ME3!)

rec area
The doctors said they fixed her back.

Already she's standing, walking like before Mars, though of course she won't be surprised if it hurts an hour from now. Still, she wants to test it, and so she looks for a pool, where if anything goes wrong, the low gravity will at least make it easier on her.

She changes into a swimsuit and eases into the water, standing by the edge where the water's up to her hips. Swinging one leg back and forth and occasionally to the side probably doesn't look like much, but it's easy, and it doesn't hurt, even when she speeds up her kicks and then stops holding onto the side of the pool, and her face lights up with joy.

cargo bay
In the two years between the first Normandy's destruction and the second's escape from Earth, Ashley's served on other ships, but she always seems to come back to the cargo bay. At first she'd simply felt out of place with a new crew; now it tends to be her favorite parts of ships.

Of course, this one is somewhat different to the cargo bays she's used to on Alliance ships.

"No vehicles," she wonders aloud as she walks through. "So we're only docking in places where everything's in walking distance or there's public transit. No weapons bench..."

A-895B exchange booth
Ashley hangs back and watches for a while, unsure of the practice. She's even more unsure what to make of it once she gets the gist: A day of your life doesn't seem like much when she's still operating on the idea that her days are numbered (being a cynic realist and a soldier in a war does that to you), but the boxes seem far too small for anything she'd want from home except maybe an empanadilla.

When she sees someone she recognizes from the ship, she approaches and asks in an undertone, "Hey, do you think it's worth it?"

exchange booth omg ashley aaaah

[brosbeforeprose]

So there's still magic. Weird magic, but when you're a dwarf, all magic is at least three parts fanciful bullshit to two parts ow, that burns. But it's the only explanation for, 'give up a day of your life, receive unknown prizes'.

Varric is still only half-convinced he'll survive the next day. Actually, he's a solid quarter convinced he's already dead and he's living in the sky as some kind of dwarven hell.

Maker, Varric, stop talking in math metaphors.

Either way, he sees it like this: if he's only got a day left, he's giving up his whole damn life for whatever's in that box.

He recognises the human from the ship. He thinks. Either way, she's drawing back and asking his opinion. And if there's anything Varric loves in this world, it's being asked his opinion.

"Me? I don't gamble unless I know how much I'm betting with. And what's in the pot. And something about who I'm playing against."

...no regrets.

[keelahselai]

She's not quite worked up the nerve to go in the water yet. First there's getting the hang of swimwear - and then, you know, the minor problem of her being totally unable to swim. The couple of times she's been dunked in water in her life, she just awkwardly floated and watched the water from inside her mask. Nowadays, with no suit and wearing her mask part-time? She's not quite ready to jump back in. So to speak.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't go in a little closer to the pool every now and then and just kind of...look a bit. If there's nobody there, she might dunk her hand in just to get used to it. Even if she is wearing baggy workout clothes and no mask.

There is, however, someone there this time, so all she can do at this point is walk over to the very edge and--

"Ashley?" She starts, takes a step over towards where her old crewmate is right there in the pool and...slips.

It's a bit wet underfoot. She's right at the edge. And thus, with a yelp, a thud and then an almighty splash, Tali falls in the swimming pool. And of course, being totally unable to swim, what follows is a lot of splashing and flailing and underwater panicking. In water that only comes up to her waist at highest.

Clone Shepard | Mass Effect

[petridish]

the tower
If there's one thing she got used to about working with Brooks (traitor), it was always going in informed, if not actually prepared. She always had dossiers for people they'd meet or even vidchat with her ID disguiser, blueprints for where operations would happen (and especially for the Normandy, she memorized the blueprints for the Normandy), clear goals. Now, she has none of those things, and she doesn't like it.

So the first thing she does is try to at least figure out the ship she's found herself on. Since she doesn't know what it so much as looks like from the outside, she climbs the tower, and surveys the wings from the windows.

"It's not the Normandy, but it will do," she mutters. Dead women (and she should be dead) can't be choosers.

main hall
Eventually her exploration takes her to a suspiciously empty corridor that sees her activating her biotics around one hand. Though the blue light glows and crackles over her greave, she soon smothers it as she enters the hall.

She's been hurt - angry - for most of the six months of her life that she remembers. Here, calm washes over her, an entirely foreign feeling which she quickly accepts. She swirls around the room, as much exploring the open space as trying to find it in her to be bewildered by this.

"It's weird here," she settles for, when someone joins her.

A-895B marketplace
She's never really been out and about around people. She was always hiding, because she couldn't be seen in some seedy bar on the Strip when Commander Shepard was out fighting the geth or whatever. So there's a light in her eyes as she walks around planetside; though her stride is as purposeful as usual, she almost looks excited to be here.

Of course she ends up on the shadier side of the market. It might as well be her people; she had mercs back on the Citadel. And she's particularly interested in weaponry, having come to recognize that while she has her biotics and her omni-tool, she only has so many thermal clips in her guns.

When she sees someone from the ship, she waves them down for advice. "Are these better than what we can get from the captains?" she asks without preamble.

marketplace

[soldiergenes]

As it turns out, she's made a good choice when it comes to who to ask about weaponry. This particular resident (temporarily, at least) of the Moira knows plenty about guns.

Or about Earth guns, anyway. The firearms he's come across since his conscription to this project aren't quite the same, but when it comes down to it, a gun is a gun. Snake's been getting the hang of them already, practicing when he can.

"Better?" he echoes, canting his head to one side. "Depends on what you want out of a gun. There's more variety here, that's for sure."

When it comes down to it, a gun is for one thing: killing. But there are other uses for it, and various types of combat it can be utilized in, so the question becomes fairly complicated. This is something Snake knows plenty about, though, so if she wants advice, he's as good a person as any to give it.

Solid Snake | Metal Gear Solid

[soldiergenes]

[rec area]
At this point his situation has begun to sink in. Snake has never struggled to adapt to bizarre circumstances, although this particular instance has forced him to expand the scope of what he believes by a pretty huge margin. It's not as if he ever thought that Earth was one of a kind, but the idea of getting to see what laid beyond that his own solar system had been inconceivable.

Yet here he is. And he knows better than to try and find other excuses, to insist that he's dreaming or hallucinating. At this point in his life, Snake's got both feet on the ground, and he can tell what's real and what isn't.

Which means that now that he's here, he's going to have to learn how to live with it.

A fairly private person (he'd gone to live on his own in Alaska with nothing but a pack of huskies as company for a reason), in some ways the hardest adjustment is sharing the ship's space with so many other people. Living with Otacon is one thing, but these people are all strangers. So Snake's mildly frustrated when he reaches the rec area and finds that someone's already making use of it. He'd been hoping he could exercise alone.

Snake doesn't say anything, just makes a humming sound in the back of his throat and then moves toward the next available machine.

[area 895b marketplace]
It's nice to reach some solid ground, to stretch his legs a little. The Moira is plenty large, and yet Snake had still felt like he was climbing the walls by the time that they docked to go planet-side.

Whether or not this planet will have any significance to the rest of their journey is difficult to say, but that doesn't stop Snake from doing his due diligence as a spy. He's worked for himself for years now, so a change in scenery shouldn't make a difference. He's still going to make sure that he's informed about his surroundings.

And what better place to learn that than a marketplace? As goods and services exchange hands, there's plenty to be learned about the culture and values of any given species. Besides, this is the exact sort of place where people (or aliens) gossip and exchange rumors. He doesn't have to do much, just blend into the crowd as best as he can and keep his ears open.

Granted, with his humanoid appearance he stands out like a sore thumb here, so Snake's got a cloak wrapped around himself and a hood pulled up to cover most of his face. He shoves his hands into the cloak's pockets and meanders through the stalls, listening for anything that might be worth knowing.

rec area;

[anotherdid]

Vanessa was watching the others use the machinery, watching as they one by one came and went. It was nothing that she knew and the farthest from what she's ever seen before.

"What invention is this? A contraption for physical well-being?"

A torture device, probably not, and she could surmise that Victor would enjoy such a room as this. She hadn't meant to blurt it out without having introduced herself first, but she was curious as to the function of the equipment. Vanessa's head cants to the side, eyes jumping from button to pedal and back again.

"I apologize for the intrusion. I'm Vanessa Ives."

She looked out of place with the billowing skirts she's opted to wear over that of the ship's uniform.

marketplace

[heliakal]

Clark's own wandering had taken him to what could be called one of the less friendly parts of the city. He'd been looking into the best crops to grow aboard the Moira, and someone had pointed him towards this part of the market to ask around. Maybe they had meant well, maybe they hadn't, but the only thing Clark had managed to find was trouble in the form of a mugging.

In retrospect, he probably looked like an easy target in his standard crew uniform, but he hadn't wanted to waste what little money he had on more clothing. Now he almost regretted it. Almost. As much as Clark wanted to keep a low profile, he couldn't abide a bully who liked to throw their weight around.

The alien who still had him cornered was a good two feet taller than he was, obviously muscular and mostly humanoid save for an extra set of arms, thick as tree trunks. One of its hands was currently wrapped around Clark's throat. It wasn't squeezing yet, just holding him in place against a wall. The bulk of it alone was probably an effective threat to most people.

Clark did his best not to meet its eyes just yet. There were civilians not far from here - he had to at least try to avoid a fight and approach the proper authorities later.

"Just let me go. I already gave you all of my money, I don't have anything else." His voice was soft but steady.

"Oh kid," the alien laughed. "You're gonna earn plenty, don't worry. Pretty face like that..."

It stroked the side of Clark's face, tugged his glasses off to crush them in its hand. This time, Clark did look up to glare. The unnecessary drama he could take, but the implication of what it was actually doing to people...

"What a look! Got a little fire too, huh?" The alien said.

You have no idea.

Rec Area: And here I am late and I don't even got good starbucks to make up for it

[vengeance_driven]

At this point, Niko Bellic had seen so much bullshit that the ship was absolute normalcy. In a way, it had been an easy mindset to fall into: military men followed orders no matter if they liked them or not, criminals did what they had to do to survive in the world, and sailors made sure their ship didn't sink. It was easy enough to figure all that out.

Still, getting back into the swing of fighting wasn't something he was too good at approaching yet.

He had actually hoped to work out alone here. But when he came in, there was a guy (eh, looked alright, he guessed either ex-military or possible hobo) tending to his own business.

There was a certain etiquette among crew on the ships he'd been on- at least the ones at sea. The last spaceship he'd been on he'd ignored half the crew purposefully. But here he would follow the same school of thought he'd had on the Platypus, just give the guy an easy going, "Hey." After that he found his own piece of exercise equipment.

And he squinted at the stupid readout. And the controls. How did this even work? "Why the fuck does this place not have a normal track. All machines," he muttered in hateful Serbian.

raven reyes | the 100

[accomplishing]

the gardens.

It's kind of hard to go back to this after seeing a forest full of them.

[ raven doesn't mean to be sentimental, but the words sort of slip out while she's staring up at the lone tree in the gardens. it's less so about the trees themselves and has more to do with everything that being on the ground had meant for her. she'd risked her life to get to earth and ending up back in space wasn't the kind of setback she was too pleased with. at least this tree is better than having nothing. it serves as a reminder of the new home she had with the rest of her people, and of the goal she had to get back there as soon as possible. ]

a-895b.

[ getting off the ship, even if it's temporary, is kind of a relief. raven's spent her whole life growing up in space, but being back on a spaceship — even one as big as the moira — feels stifling now. spending time on the ground has spoiled her and she's eager to get out and see something else besides the endless steel walls of the ship.

the colony isn't exactly the same as stepping foot on actual ground, but it's got bars aplenty, which kind of helps make up for it. she picks the one that seems the least seedy without breaking the bank and steps up to the bar with ease. ]

I'll have two of whatever that is. [ she's pointing at whomever is sitting next to her; figuring out alien drink choices seems like a chore and if they're still drinking it and haven't died yet, that seems good enough. raven turns to the person in question with a shrug. ] Hope you don't mind.

gardens.

[mislay]

[ There's something weird about the place he doesn't actually like. Junior really can't pinpoint what it is, even after several minutes of wandering around to get a sense of it. Maybe this whole thing just has him feeling off. Being in space, being "forced" to do this job of his until they reach wherever it is they're going so they can go home... Would they even make it there? He's wondered that for the last two nights, and coming here hadn't worn it off any at all. He frowns a little, crossing his arms as he stares at the tree and only tilts his head enough to acknowledge whoever it is speaking to him.

... she was talking to him, right? They were the only ones there after all. ]

What do you mean go back? [ Had she been here before? Or in a situation like this? Junior can't help the pique of curiosity, even making an attempt to smile at her in some twisted hope that he'll appear friendlier than he's momentarily feeling. ]

Eric Dufosset | Original

[incantamentum]

Mess Hall

[Eric sits by himself on a table, a tall drink of water inf ront of him. He takes a sip and clucks his tongue in an instant tutting noise. It was wate,r yes, but water wouldn't satisfy him right now. He even resented the shaky hand that reached out to grab the glass itself. Of course he'd be shaken, after all, he'd never contemplated the idea of space for long- not beyond celestial events and bodies. He could use them, after all.

He did not, however, have use for being in space. If nothing else it was a hindrance to his regular life. He didn't let himself dwell on those thoughts for long, however, knowing fine well that psychologically speaking they weren't helping him in any way and would act as a portal for darker things.

However, these were all problems he couldn't fix right now. The problem in front of him, the glass of water, the shaky hand... those he could fix. His head bows in concentration and his lips move quickly, words falling from his lips and an air of power suddenly rising around him. For a listening ear, some of those words are changez, convertissez and sangre. When he's done there's a magical snap as his will flies from his head into the glass. It starts small, a drop of scarlet in the middle of the water which spreads rapidly outwards. A blood red liquid replacing the water; he lifts it again, his hand shaking marginally less as he reaches out to take a sip. It wasn't perfect, not at all, but it was as close to wine as the man was getting on the ship right now.

He glances up, suddenly connecting eyes with a stranger that happened to look at him in enquiry.] Wine is much better than water, non? Even in space.

Exchange Booth

[He'd headed through the market place cloaked in anonymity, one of the first things he'd done was grab a cloak from a passing vendor, a hooded thing that he threw around himself, becoming instantly covered as he perused the strange planet, magic buzzing around him thanks to his nerves, which spiked when he saw the booth.

He had to do this because he was hopeful, the moment he'd heard of the exchange and more importantly than that he'd heard of the potential gifts it could bring. The allure of it was almost too much, knowing he might get what he wanted. He even sent out a small prayer to whatever of his deities would listen, to get him what he needed.

It was strange, the idea of kissing the alien beast in front of him, something that looked like a hollowed out skull with a snout more than a nose, covered in red dots among grey-blue flesh. He didn't care though, after all he'd signed worst deals with kisses. Instead he raises his hands to the hood and throws it back, leaning in to make the exchange even as he felt the pull which came from the kiss- feeling its effects pulling something from within him.

When he's done though he's provided with a flat rectangular box, the kind of shape he'd been anticipating. Having his gift he opens the box as he turns away, eyes alighting on an athame, the hilt made of obsidian. He was so caught up in the moment that as he turned to leave, he bumped into a stranger, the knife falling from the box and tumbling towards the ground.]

exchange booth;

[anotherdid]

[She'd just left the company of a fine younger person named Clare, the conversation was pleasant, and they'd given her sound advice on these booths. Vanessa had been tempted, slightly, but had nothing she wanted that she'd trade a day or more for. She only desired non-material things, such as people, and she would not mess with that sort of black magic here.

Vanessa watches the man leave the booth with narrowed eyes, her expression lightening as she walks towards him. If Victor cannot be here to ask questions, then she would just have to do it on his behalf.]

Sir. If you'll pardon my intrusion.

[A quick glance to the booth and back.]

Was it worth the exchange?

Tyler Preman | Original

[whynotgoonmyown]

Observation Deck

[Of all things Tyler had never thought he'd have to worry about, suddenly finding himself in a situation where he'd have to worry about several moons making him shift was probably fairly high on the list.

And now, it was not only a concern, but a very real one. Not an immediate one, fortunately, but a concern nonetheless. Granted, he could control himself when shifted, but... It sounded almost stupid, but how would a different moon (or hell, even being much closer to one than before) affect how easy it'd be for the wolf to take over? It wasn't as if there was any precedent for this that he could draw any information from.

Those were his thoughts as he looked out the observation deck, almost glaring at the surface of the planet bellow and the hint of a moon on the other side.]

With my luck, this will be a problem. Gonna have to stay inside a lot, won't I?

[The words come out after a sigh and running his hand over his face. Anyone around him might notice he doesn't quite realize he said it out loud.]

[incantamentum]

[Eric had been walking along the observation deck himself, if only to see what the celestial bodies looked like from out here. It was an awe inspiring thing, after all, being among the stars.

It was then that he noticed the other man, a worried look on his face that the witch couldn't help but study. Everyone had these looks around them on the ship, it was how one differentiated between the ones who'd been here before and the new comers- those tangible waves of nerves and anxiety.

When the stranger speaks however, Eric's interest is peaked and he clears his throat.]

Oh? And why would that be, if you don't mind me asking?

Kaylee Frye || Firefly

[prairieharpie]

Kaylee hummed as wandered along the corridor headed on her way to the cargo bay. The shift in gravity wasn't as pronounced as it was back on Serenity, but she could still feel it. That moment the artificial gravity had it's moment against that of the planet that the ship was coming closer to. There was something familiar to it at least, like the noise of the engines. It made sense to her, though it wasn't always like that. Those first few nights away, the first real time spent out in the black. Homesickness and the like.

Sure, she'd got through it, didn't mean she didn't miss her folks when they were on one side of the 'verse to them. When the Captain had found himself (meaning all of them) in some fēng kuáng de job that didn't go starting off that way, just always seemed to end up that way. That or someone getting shot. She'd seen Mal and Jayne get shot a good number of times. Too many. All of them were too many. Didn't mean she'd not picked up a gun at the end herself. Pretty sure she wasn't going to come back from that. The little faded scars on her neck from the darts reminded her of that.

Her fingers skimmed against the side of the corridor as she went along, just as she did as did on her girl, briefly feeling the faint vibrations of the engines. Kaylee wondered what the planet was going to be like. The folk that lived their, the stories they could tell her. If there'd be anything down there that would remind her of home. It did give her something to think about as the went.