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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. ) ERIS — 6578
Welcome to one of the sister Eris planets. This one, unlike many of its counterparts, is incredibly high dollar. For visiting individuals, it is mandatory to wear clothes befitting of such a status. For those aboard the Moira, it means discarding work attire for the formal wear they have been provided. Characters will find the temperature moderately cold, a late fall to early winter feel, and their outwear must reflect the prestige Eris—6578 is universally known for. Any sort of trading is strictly done through computers and electronic orders--nothing hands-on as it's considered beneath the inhabitants to indulge in such outdated means of interaction. Unlike most systems, money is needed to purchase things on Eris. The captains have given the crew unlimited credits; with each transaction, simply "pay" with the MID. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )
☄ lavish livingFine dining? The movies? Or perhaps gambling? Whatever your tastes, Eris caters to everyone and everything—the more expensive, the better. There is no limit to what can be done when one has the money to spend, and this lifestyle reflects in the people and surroundings. Even sex is a very ornate process held to the highest discretion. Feel free to indulge, but know that it isn't without its consequences.
☄ takenIn its underbelly, Eris—6578's main function is the trade and trafficking of bodies for one of two purposes: to be placed in a situation where you are made to kill for another's enjoyment or are tortured and killed based on the client's personal tastes. Each scenario is designed to fit the paying customer's predilections and is often carried out in places secured and private. Remember, money is no object. Therefore, the extent of what they do or make you do has no boundaries either.
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thisavrou_ooc2015-12-05 08:35 pm
Meh Yewll | Defiance
She startled awake.
Meh Yewll had no idea when she'd gotten down there. She'd been having a fine time trying to find medicine and a nice new pair of long lasting boots. But she was in a dark room then, lit dimly, but not soundproof. She could hear people yelling, people panicked and some gloating.
Where was she? Where was she?
For all that her features barely moved, she rose in a wobbly, ungainly panic onto uncertain feet. She had to reach out to grab the world. "Ahh?!" It wasn't even words. It was a panicked, startled shriek as her hand met something that probably was blood. She wasn't a squeamish person by nature, being a doctor and all, but one had to admit finding oneself in an isolated room surrounded with ominous sounds with the presence of someone's personal fluids on the wall was nothing anyone wanted to wake up to.
Well. Maybe someone. But is sure as shtako wasn't one of her kinks.
no subject
A startled cry from nearby finally brought him back, and he jolted online, sitting up and scrambling to his feet. He nearly grabbed for his discs, but held back... best wait until the danger showed itself. Focusing in the dim light, he saw a familiar person in the room with him. "Meh Yewell?" he called out, tense posture relaxing just slightly. Even if they were both prisoners, at least he knew her and trusted that she wouldn't attack him as well. "What has happened here?"
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But it was mostly the pain, she didn't want to be hurt. And she wasn't really all that equipped to stop anyone from doing it.
That there was someone she knew, though, was a relief, and she looked at her fingertips, now covered in something coagulated from where she'd touched, as she crept over to his side of the room. "They're going to do something to us."
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A sound of a distant scream echoed through the chamber, followed by what sounded like cheers. Tron turned toward the sound, instinctively putting himself between Meh and the perceived danger, but nothing appeared to harm them. Whatever their fate, it seemed they were to wait for it, first.
The cheering, though... that was eerily familiar. The arena. The place where Tron... where Rinzler had been forced to kill innocent programs. That type of cheering, that thirst for violence, that was far too familiar.
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Despite the cheeky words her voice was wavering slightly in fear. Often she could hold back her emotions; but not when she was in danger. Not when she couldn't get away with the threat. She did need the protection, and he was of a convenient size that a petite bald alien could use him as a sturdy defending person-wall to hide behind.
More cheering, distant sounds of shock and aww, and solid footsteps coming towards their room. Datak ran competitive fights, but Datak, for all his worse habits, tended towards willing competitors.
"Is it too much to hope that they took me to treat their wounded?" The answer was yes and she knew it.
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He still had his discs... perhaps their captors did not recognize them as weapons? He did not draw them yet, however, deciding to wait and see where it might give them the best advantage, the element of surprise.
"If they attempt to force us to fight each other, I will not harm you," he said, his voice quiet, rushing to speak before their captors arrived. "I can take damage without derezzing... dying. We can falsify your win." The other option was not as easy. "If we are fighting others, let me take them on. Try to stay back."
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She winced hard, balking at the history she never spoke about. Not to anyone, not if she could help it. But she needed to.
"I was a war doctor. I had to do things that- well I need to make up for it. If we can help it at all, I just want to escape." But if he had to face someone other than her, she could put him together again. She could save his program. Do something.
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"As for actions in our past to make up for... I have those as well. Far too many."
There was no time to elaborate further, however, as the door opened and their captors stepped through. Five of the guards, enough that Tron could have taken them out were he fighting alone, but protecting another... he wasn't sure he could do so without Meh being injured in the process. He was certain of his victory in whatever Games they were being taken to, however. This was what he knew, what he'd done for so many cycles, both in the old system and the new Grid.
The hallway they were marched down was long and narrow, dark, the sound of the cheering crowd growing louder by the moment as they approached the lighted doorway at the end. Other cells lined the walls, sounds of despair and pain softer behind the locks. No escape seemed plausible by this way, only forward through the battle.
"Whatever happens, stay behind me."
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"Thanks for this." She muttered. "I'll help keep you together."
She couldn't fight, but she could fix. She could even save his personality if she needed to- she had a brain made for just that.
"I can... I can keep an eye out for weak points, too." She despised how uncertain she sounded, how tentative, but it was all she had to offer.
no subject
Then there was no more time for talk. The door slid open in front of them, leaving nowhere else to go but forward, into the arena. Bright lights shone overhead, illuminating the center of the floor but leaving the cheering, bloodthirsty crowd in the shadows. Underfoot, the surface was scuffed, dirty, old stains half-heartedly cleaned and left to dry. Pillars and obstacles littered the area, larger than the Disc Wars pod in which Tron was used to fighting, but small enough that one could easily cross it in a few moments of sprinting.
A few sharp weapons and heavy, blunt objects were scattered about... Tron dismissed those, and drew his discs from his back, the glow activating in his hands. He still had his baton, as well, and he could guarantee that their captors did not know that it could transform into a lightcycle or lightjet. At the moment, it was useless as they were trapped, but he would keep it for the right moment.
Overhead, a booming voice was announcing the fight, something about a team battle to the death, victors to be granted freedom, etc, etc... Tron did not spare the processes to pay attention. In his experience, the promises offered by these sort of Games were never to be trusted.
Three other doors were opening along the walls, releasing their opponents. Three teams of two, Tron and Meh being the fourth. He didn't recognize any of them, so they weren't from the ship. Still, they were all in the same situation, and if he could rig their escape so all eight could be freed, so much the better.
Stepping back to Meh's side for a moment, he leaned close. "Be ready."