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leavin’ on a jet plane
"Don’t know when I’ll be back again."
ABOARD THE MOIRAThe Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay. Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. Any questions you might have would be answered in a straightforward manner as well as an explanation about how the Ingress, the thing that has pulled you onto the Moira, is broken and bringing people here unintentionally. This process also consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand or wrist with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters. 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. You may notice a slight change in the artificial gravity every once in awhile; however, more noticeable changes can be found in overall morale of those of the crew.
☄ 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. ) The day begins normally. Or almost.
The Moira has accidentally fallen along the trajectory of an asteroid barreling its way through space. While most things like this are not uncommon, and the ship is far from any potential danger of collision or risk of debris damaging the exterior, there is something particularly odd about this specific occurrence. The rock itself appears to give off a strange light that is both eerie and alive. Often, if looked at in just the right manner, it will shift colors; so, while one person sees one side of the spectrum, someone else could see something entirely different. At first, things continue on as they usually do aside from the glowing asteroid alongside the Moira, but as the hours go on, that does not seem to be the case.
☄ the hours are breathingresignedly beneath the sky the melancholy waters lieWith a rather open view of stars and space, thanks to the skylight above, the pool in the rec area suddenly comes alive beneath the light of the asteroid filtering in. Perhaps it’s some natural response to the chemical composition of the water, or perhaps it’s magic. Yet, regardless of the explanation, those who happen to take a dip suddenly find themselves plagued by despair. The depression and melancholy are not subtle changes either; it slams into you with great force, like a punch to the gut. The longer you remain in the pool, the deeper it grows, like an all-consuming paranoia that settles into the back of your mind and causes your heart to grow heavy. These strong feelings will eventually fade if you choose to leave the pool and dry off, but as long as you remain damp from the pool, those emotions will continue to linger. Even after you’re completely dry, there will be no mistaking just how intensely you felt or why. There is no explanation and might not be. Would you dare a second swim to test whether or not it was a fluke? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )
☄ those who have crossedthe eyes are not here, there are no eyes hereThe walls are shrinking in. Every room you step into feels much too small, like there isn’t enough room to even breathe. A crowded place becomes startlingly empty, and no matter how much you run, how much you explore, there is no one there to comfort you or answer your calls for help. Hallucinations run strong between the lulls of obscene loneliness or claustrophobia, and exposure to the glow of the asteroid is really the only thing to thank for that. You’re desperate to claw your way out of the ship—open the emergency hatch in the Cargo Bay, bust the glass of the Observation Deck. What’s worse is that it’s not just you. It’s catching, and the fear of being next is very real. It feels like you’re being watched, that everyone around you is looking and seeing everything you are. Or are not. The only way to make it stop is to admit that you’re afraid of being seen, but who, in the deep madness of the self, has the courage to ever admit the truth? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )
☄ the sun in flightrage, rage against the dying of the lightSomething has drifted its way onto the Moira from the outside. Unlike the faint luminosity they give off, they suck up all the light around them, making them the only source to see by. From far away, they are just flitting balls of light, but if you get close enough to inspect them, they are mean. And have sharp, sharp teeth. Go poking, and they will bite you before trying to fly away while taking that only light source with them. The option to avoid them is quite easy if you’re not the curious sort, but without them around, it will be impossibly dark. As the asteroid moves on in the opposite direction of the Moira, these light creatures begin to dissolve and fade away with it. However, a word of caution: their bites glow. If you don’t manage to find the one that bit you and capture it between your hands, the bite will become a permanent glowing fixture of your body. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_ooc2016-07-08 05:07 pm
hallways
Not right now, but I'll be sure to let you know if that changes.
[He probably won't, but he expects the brush-off to be lost on a less... Human, for lack of a better word, AI. Still, he half closes an eye in an affectation of a raised eyebrow and gives the A.R.I.D. a look up and down.]
Mark-7, huh? What's that mean exactly?
no subject
It’s question, however, is strange.]
Mark-7 refers to the model of this armored combat suit and designates it as the seventh iteration of its product line. [It seems like such a pointlessly simple question that the A.R.I.D pauses in order to process whether the droid was actually searching for more auxiliary information in its answer.] Every iteration since Mark-2 has come standard with an onboard A.R.I.D in the event of pilot incapacitation, [it supplies after a moment.]
no subject
[Maybe they should look into tech like that back home. Sounds clever. Way cleverer than Cayde is anyway. He has like a billion questions, but first things first.]
Got no pilot huh. That why you're wandering around offering help to strangers?
no subject
[It doesn’t quite answer the droid’s question, but it comes close.] The circumstances are… not ideal.
no subject
Aw, learn to live a little! You're stuck here like the rest of us, might as well see the sights. Enjoy what that guy in the cargo bay thinks poker is. Maybe fight a few hostile, universe threatening aliens while you're at it.
[Course, while that all sounds varying shades of fun to Cayde, once he's done talking he already gets the feeling this bot doesn't share his idea of a good time. Time to switch it up:] Maybe you'll pick up a thing or two to help you protect your human when you get back.
no subject
I-- That’s-- None of those are my function, [the A.R.I.D nearly sputters. How hopelessly glitched must this droid be to think any of those are acceptable alternatives?
The droid’s attempts to reframe the suggestions are only slightly more welcome.]
I am already equipped with multiple means to incapacitate or eliminate those who threaten my pilot. I do not require additional subroutines to carry out this function.
no subject
[Another broad gesture, this time coming around to gesture to the A.R.I.D. like they're on a stage. Welcome to Showboating 101 with Cayde-6.]
Think about it. Another Mark-7 comes at you, same tech, same subroutines. But-- [He flicks his hand and a throwing knife comes out of seemingly nowhere, flips up in the air and he catches it by the blade.] It didn't see the knife.
no subject
I already possess several subroutines relating to combat with bladed weapons, as do other A.R.I.D units. [Still, if the specific example isn’t applicable, the principle may be. The A.R.I.D runs the notion through its processor a few times, running basic internal simulations in a variety of combat scenarios. In each, having an expanded array of combat manoeuvres at its disposal are favorable to pilot survivability -- even if they would not last past the A.R.I.D’s reformat upon return to dock.]
Given more logical alternatives are currently unavailable to me, augmented combat and weapons’ training… may be a viable recourse. Until the point at which I am returned to my pilot.
[It’s likely the closest to a concession that the droid is going to receive.]
no subject
There you go! [The knife goes back to... nowhere? And he puts his hands on his hips.] We'll have you learning all sorts of useful tricks.
no subject
[There’s a lag as the A.R.I.D parses the plausibility of such a notion. And then:] What is your primary function?
no subject
Me? [He takes a couple of steps, moving and gesturing like he's on stage addressing an audience.] Treasure hunter, explorer, Guardian, and mentor to aspiring heroes.
[A beat for applause that doesn't come] Cayde, Hunter Vanguard. Pleased to meet you.
no subject
You are a droid. [Said flatly, with a lack of clarification that suggests the implications of such a statement should be self-evident: that it is this designation that comes before all others.] State your primary function.
no subject
Treasure hunter, explorer, Guardian, mentor... Vanguard... Nope, I think I got everything.
no subject
no subject
[Wow he can't believe he's getting sass from the same robot acting like he's not a person, god. He shrugs.] Lotta possible reasons really, but that's for smarter folks than me to debate.