hownkai: (Default)
Cúrre ([personal profile] hownkai) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log2016-08-01 12:13 am

( august intro log )

Who: Everyone
When: August 1st and on
Where: The Moira
What: New “guests” join the crew on their journey and implement some changes.
Warnings: None for now. Please label your content!

I
N
T
R
O

L
O
G

old but unfamiliar faces
"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once."

The 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.

At first, this month seems no more unusual than the previous one for those who have been aboard the Moira for any amount of time. The crew who had landed on the slaver outpost were rescued, and with everyone aboard, the ship has pushed forward into the darker parts of the Runoff. Anyone arriving through the Ingress follows the same routine—moving from the Ingress room into the Medbay for their physical and contract before being assisted by seasoned crew members and helped to their assigned decks. But all familiar things must eventually come to an end: two final travelers come through the Ingress. The first, and most noticeable difference between them and all the others, is their clothing. Both are dressed in standard Moira uniforms, though they bear the insignia of one sharing the same rank as Captains Cúrre and Thán. After a moment to take in all the people on the platform ahead of them, one of the two latest arrivals approaches one of the Ingress panels and begins to manipulate the controls. The Ingress completely shuts down. Unlike before, however, there isn’t an imbalance felt across the ship; everything remains normal and stable.

Utilizing the computer systems located in the Ingress room, they send out the following message to the crew via the MID:

To all those aboard this vessel: I am Ira Phirun, assigned captain of the Moira. First Mate Egan and I will be commandeering all rights to the ship as soon as word is sent to those currently in charge. Expect a more detailed report as soon as all records and logs in Navigation have been reviewed by myself and the First Mate. All questions will be answered in a timely matter. For now, there will be no interruption of daily routine or reprimand if conduct among ranks is broken. Thanks for your time.

Heading to Navigation, the Captain and First Mate, for seemingly unknown reasons, approach Navigator Manasseh and have her show them all records and logs of the Moira. Those working in Navigation when the Captain and First Mate arrive will see Mana greet them in a professional manner. Oddly, the Captain and First Mate act very familiar with the Navigator. They review all documents, but when they come upon news that the Ploiatos is on board, their mostly friendly demeanor shifts quickly. The Captain issues a sharp order, unintelligible to those who are close enough to overhear parts of their conversation, and without any warning at all, Mana loses consciousness and collapses right there on the bridge. Within minutes of this happening, the ship as a whole falls into a low power state with basic functions only. Mana’s MID alerts Medbay, and without hesitation, Captain Cúrre places her in cryo with strict orders to those who work there not to disturb the unit.

As promised, the Captain and First Mate soon address the crew.

lights down low
The lighting has dimmed in all the rooms and halls, the normally crisp air that is pumped from the vents low, and all machines and tech are running at half-speed. These effects can be found throughout the ship. Water in the showers remain hot for only a few minutes before reverting to cold. Recreational equipment powers off not long after it has been turned on. The sanitation and water filtration systems require an hourly manual reboot, and all unused areas of the ship have no power allotted to them until a crew member steps inside. Even then, most functions are not optimal. It’s as if the Moira has been transformed into a dark house with only a candle flickering on the window sill.

reuse & recycle
The Captain and First Mate are quick to establish that this is a new regime and go about making the ship and its crew more efficient in the wake of their change in course and the low power state of the ship itself. This means they will systematically inspect each occupied barracks room and leave notes for what needs to be disposed of or stowed away. Unlike before, this is no longer a pleasure cruise, and each member of the crew is a guest on board; they will not tolerate useless clutter. Anything seen as unnecessary will be either placed into storage in the Cargo Bay or disposed of through the airlock. This new need for efficiency also extends to the need to conserve resources until they reach their destination. The showers are set to an automatic timer to minimize water waste. Those few minutes of hot water are all a crew member is now given. Meals are smaller, bordering on ration sizes, and luxuries are done away with entirely in order to preserve supplies so that the ship can go longer before needing to dock at a planet.

new jobs, same faces
The Captain and his First Mate, as expressed in their addressing of the Moira, explain that work efficiency is a priority. Applications for a head of the following departments will be accepted for a short period: Navigation, the Tower, Medbay, Defense, the Hold, Sanitation, Ingress work, and the Galley/Mess Hall. (Here.) After reviewing what they receive, one head of department will be chosen and tasked with helping crew find positions relevant to those departments and their own skillsets. They will be allowed to retain any positions that they held before that aren’t ship-functional jobs, but they will have to be done in leisure time. In two weeks time, they’ll be accepting department position applications which will be approved, and all those that do not apply will be assigned in accordance with their initial work application. They will also choose three individuals to act as guards of Ploiatos to ensure that there is a rotation available at all times. Will you choose to follow this new decision and promote yourself into a position of responsibility? Or will you simply wait for a reassignment?


( ooc; For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )
skelepun: (2470718 (11))

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-01 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Aug. 1st (evening); ota
July was a month.

Apparently. Sans wasn't there, personally. But he had it on very credible authority that things didn't really improve after an invading force killed most of their people for an injustice that wasn't theirs. It felt like just yesterday, he was mourning his family and friends -- as much as he could mourn anyone these days -- when the lights suddenly blinked out and he woke to find himself damp and cold. Cryo. As always.

No matter how many people tell you it's been weeks, the sinking in part takes time.

Walking through the ship, there were signs that supported their claims but just as many that disproved them. Unfamiliar faces mixed in with incredibly familiar ones (those, Sans tried to dodge as best he could -- and he was very good at dodging). The architecture was more or less the same, save a few glaring, inescapable differences.

The bar, for example. Standing in the ruins of the mess hall, surrounded by darkened stained glass, Sans found himself not so much overcome with beauty or the terror of time's passage. More than anything he was frustrated.

Where the hell was he supposed to get a drink now?

"So much for taking the edge off the reunions." Sans mutters to no one, squinting down at what looked like a once-moist mound of hardened dust. Huh
Aug. 5th (afternoon); ota
Nothing quite like a regime change, new rules, and a sudden onslaught of fresh uncertainty to make a guy feel like a bonafide crew member. They should've done this ages ago. When was the last time anyone saw Sans actually doing his job?

Pushing along a garbage can, whistling (somehow) between his teeth, Sans looked for all the world hard at work. The jobs were still shaking out, with people vying for heads of their respective departments. It was a mess Sans was happy to stay out of, assured in the fact that he would almost certainly be remaining in good ol' Sanitation.

Even if he did kind of suck at it. As evidenced by the fact that any onlooker would see him picking through the trash more than actually disposing of it. Careful not to look too long, though. Sans glances up, catching the eye of anyone who happens to be staring. His grin is... hard to read.

But he sure looks happy when silently motioning them closer.
Edited 2016-08-01 16:10 (UTC)
fullcowl: (3)

August 5

[personal profile] fullcowl 2016-08-01 05:09 pm (UTC)(link)
You'd think five days would be enough to get the layout of a ship, there can't be that much to get lost in, right? Wrong. He knows vaguely where the simulation room is, but with the ship still dimmed, it's still easy to get lost. One of these days he's going to make it to the simulation room on time. Maybe in two more days, when he accidentally learns the whole layout of the ship.

What he wasn't expecting was to come across some kind of skeleton. Maybe it's some sort of mutant quirk? He looks around when Sans motions him over, wondering if there's anybody else in the hallway.

If there is anybody, they're either fantastic at hiding or they're invisible.

"Me...?"
skelepun: ([sans] 67)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"Nah, the guy behind you." Sans smiles, though in a fixed way that speaks to how rarely he does anything but smile. "Get over here, kid."

He waves again, painting his joke as just that -- a joke. Even if the boy wasn't alone in the hallway, Sans clearly had him in mind for whatever task he had waiting at the bottom of that garbage can.
fullcowl: (040)

[personal profile] fullcowl 2016-08-04 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
He can't help it, he looks behind himself. There's still nobody there, of course. He's just a little nervous when it comes to... most things.

So he'll walk his way over. "What's going on?"

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arcreact: stirred for 10 seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of vermouth. thank you. (martini. gin、 not vodka、 obviously.)

8/1

[personal profile] arcreact 2016-08-01 11:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Tony doesn't plan on sleeping. He just slept for two weeks solid, so he doesn't see the point in adding more to it now, thanks. So it is that he's taking the long way around to the engine room - why be idle when you could be working, mindlessly and obsessively? - when he notices yet another sad figure taking in the view. Probably an alcoholic, let's be real.

It doesn't take long to realize which sad alcoholic it is. The guy's still a fucking skeleton.

Tony leans against the doorframe and almost quirks a smirk at the idle comment. Almost.

"Tragic, isn't it?"

His tone is as light as it always is, but he's fixed Sans with the kind of level, assessing look that he normally reserves for very expensive and complex machines.
skelepun: ([sans] 37)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"You know about this?" Sans asks, falling easily into their old rapport, as if a month and some change hadn't passed since the last time they'd spoke. It was easy for him, perhaps too easy, to assume his old patter.

Granted, falling into old routines left little room for change. Sans is uncharacteristically casual for a guy who spent four weeks dead, slipping his hands into his pockets with practiced ease.

"Now I don't believe it's been a month, you wouldn't have lasted this long sober."
arcreact: (yes again)

[personal profile] arcreact 2016-08-05 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
Sans wants to pretend he didn't skewer a bunch of people and then bite the dust, literally? Sure, that's fine. What is there to talk about, really?

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he sniffs, mock-offended. "Not all of us got to sleep through the sobriety."

Which is only a half truth, because he and his shitty malfunctioning heart definitely got put in the freezer for at least half of that time, but he's not giving Sans' argument the validation.

He pushes off from the wall and wanders farther into the room, pocketing his own hands. It's not a deliberate imitation, just an unnervingly similar tic.

"Besides, anyone who's serious about it has alternative vices."

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poolhall_killer: ([Xrd] staring)

8/1

[personal profile] poolhall_killer 2016-08-02 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
After all was said and done, Venom needed some time to himself. He didn't appreciate being poked and prodded, given a weird physical and shot, and then a job that didn't suit his skills at all. He could have gone back to his assigned dorm, but there were two others in there already. He didn't want to intrude, honestly.

Maybe a little exploring would help.

It still felt surreal, considering all he'd been through. One minute he was fighting for his Guild's revival, and then he was being processed as a new crew member. Maybe he could find some water or tea.

As he walks towards what he was told was the mess hall, he spotted a figure muttering over some rubble. At first it appears to be a person, but upon closer inspection, it's a skeleton. Huh.

"Reunions?" He asks quietly, curiously. "Are you expecting someone?"
skelepun: ([sans] 69)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"Huh?" Sans asks reflexively, looking up. The voice is new, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. He was missing time -- maybe the guy knew him?

No, that was ridiculous. Shuttling that thought away, Sans relaxes quickly into his usual blank grin.

"Uh, not specifically. More mourning an old friend." He explains, gesturing to the spot where the bar used to be. Of course, to someone who wasn't around to know the bar before it disappeared, it looks as if Sans is pointing to the small heap of dust. "I've been sorta out of the loop lately."
poolhall_killer: (reflecting)

[personal profile] poolhall_killer 2016-08-06 12:14 am (UTC)(link)
Venom doesn't see anything but dust. Lots of dust. And nothing's pinging at him in terms of an unusual presence. Though there is that air of sadness coming from the skeleton. Maybe this area meant a lot to him, and for some reason, it vanished.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude if you were mourning." He gently bows in respect towards the bar's remnants.

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whatshisname: [smile] (That's very sweet)

Afternoon

[personal profile] whatshisname 2016-08-02 03:04 am (UTC)(link)
Seeing as it's his first day, Rung wasn't quite ready to start work. He was getting oriented, exploring his new surroundings; not just the ship but the people were interest as well.

Which is exactly why Rung found himself staring at a...what was that? He'd not seen an organic like this person before...assuming he was organic. When Sans glanced up to meet his optics, Rung gave him a little wave of greeting and took the opportunity to approach.

"Hello."
skelepun: ([sans] 58)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
By this point, Cybertronians were old hat to Sans. He'd made friends with a few, antagonized a few more, and generally made himself vaguely aware of their happenings. Hard to be bored with a ship full of them -- their antics made for good TV on a boring day.

Of course, this one was new. Or was he? Sans didn't hesitate in his continued wave, trying to parse if he'd seen this particular robot before or if he was being racist.

"Hey, champ. Got a job for ya."

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grandpaladin: (let me bust the funky lyrics)

5th

[personal profile] grandpaladin 2016-08-02 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
Reinhardt... is adjusting. Sort of. He's fairly adaptable. Always has been. As long as he has his armor and sense of justice, things will be just fine. Or so he assumes. It's worked out so far.

At least for most people.

His hands are in his pockets, doing his best to seem unassuming, albeit huge. But the smiling white face is hard to ignore as he continues his idle explorations. Needless to say... he steps closer.

"Yes? What is it?"

And what is this thing.
skelepun: ([sans] 37)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:44 pm (UTC)(link)
When you're four-foot-very-little, a guy gets used to being towered over. With a sizable Cybertronian population on board, a guy gets extra used to it.

Still, that's gotta be the biggest goddamn human Sans has ever seen. And he only gets bigger on approach. Dang. Luckily for Sans, his expression remains as fixed and casual as ever. Nevermind the small bead of sweat at his brow.

"Just doing a survey." He pushes the garbage can forward slightly with a tip of his foot. "Moira Satisfaction Survey, specifically. Pretty standard. Up for answering a few questions?"

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soldiergenes: (just wanna be a man)

08/05

[personal profile] soldiergenes 2016-08-02 03:33 pm (UTC)(link)
The only reason that Snake even knew that Sans had been in cryo most of last month is because he's diligent about checking the crew directory on his MID. It lays it all out for them there, and thus far he's never come across an instance of it being wrong.

A month is longer than average for someone to be in one of those pods, but Snake doesn't think too hard on it until he comes across Sans himself, pushing along a trash can with all the enthusiasm of an elementary school kid who isn't being stimulated by their coursework.

Snake figures he'll just pass on by, but then Sans waves him over, and the look on his skull is disconcerting, to say the least. Snake's interactions with Sans have been limited and one of them involved almost puking, so he really has no idea what to expect from him now. (Save for a bad pun.)

All the same, he walks over. There's a slim chance that Sans has found something of interest in the garbage, seeing how their new captain wants to dump all the unnecessary junk around here.
skelepun: ([sans] 65)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:44 pm (UTC)(link)
A slim chance, perhaps. But if there's an ace in Sans' hand, he seems unwilling to tip it just yet. He leans heavy against the garbage can, arm slung around it as if it were his date.

Looking at him, it was as if Sans was surprised by Snake's approach, rather than it being a direct result of Sans calling him over.

"Hey there, bud. Enjoying our new overlords?"

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takeitslow: ([Goodtime])

5th

[personal profile] takeitslow 2016-08-03 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Peter would like to think he's faster than the news that traveled the ship, but some loops he always seemed to be firmly kept out of. But he hadn't heard Sans was back yet, maybe because his attention had been on the fiery redhead from his future and the rules changes and the things from last month he was trying very hard not to think about.

But he knows now. Mostly because the a skeleton wandering the halls was a little hard to miss.

"You sure took your sweet time," he mutters, suddenly on the other side of the trash pile. He kicks at something that looks particularly gray and gooey, making a face when it sticks to his boot. "Did you have a nice ice nap? Personally I found the whole floating naked in the cold a little uncomfortable."
skelepun: ([sans] 69)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:43 pm (UTC)(link)
"Beggars can't be choosers. I'll take a nap where I can get it."

His words are casual, bordering on a parody of laid back, but the warmth crimping at the edges of his sockets is impossible to miss. If Sans thought he had half a chance of catching Peter, he might've just dragged the kid into a hug.

Of course, he didn't, so his hands stayed where they were. Tucked casually into his jacket pocket, Sans cocks his head to the side slightly in a far less invasive greeting.

"How've you been, kiddo?"

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taselikeabee: (51)

8/5

[personal profile] taselikeabee 2016-08-03 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Sans wasn't alone in being perfectly content to stay out of that business. Bumblebee was perfectly fine with the role that he had been given and didn't really seek to "improve" his lot. Being a stealth operative was comfortable, familiar. Watching people and trying to ascertain their motives was much more fun without politics involved.

It was something he hadn't really done proficiently in some time. Thus Sans was, at the very least, a nice change. His face was unreadable, sure, but Bee mostly just chalked that up to barely having one. It wasn't unlike many individuals of his own race that liked faceplates or had to endure empurata. Regardless, he was paying more attention to the trash, trying to discern some sort of pattern - if there was one.

Unfortunately, being a Cybertronian makes one hard to miss, even one as small as Bee. At least he couldn't be accused of directly staring - no pupils.
skelepun: ([sans] 67)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:43 pm (UTC)(link)
When his beckoning gesture yields no fruit, Sans edges his can a little closer, once again bending his fingers in a covert, come here motion. Even as he does it, though, Sans is making his own way towards the kid.

If you could really call any Cybertronians kid. Still, it seemed to annoy a few of them, so Sans wasn't about to stop any time soon.

"Can you see through those things, bud?" He asks, waving his hand up as high as he can (admittedly, not very) to try and attract the guy's attention. "Or did you never get that upgrade?"

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chipouttaluck: (dropping no eaves)

August 5

[personal profile] chipouttaluck 2016-08-04 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
Holy shit you're back. ...You're back, right?

[All in a row, just like that. Reading the manual's for chumps, and she didn't plan on hanging around the Med-Bay longer than it took for them to stick her with something and stop the bleeding. So the whole dying and coming back thing? News to her. He was kinda... dust, last time she saw him. She remembers that part, clear as a bell. Nothing much left to do but get a broom and get to work, and she'd done neither.

But all that's over now, she figures. Ain't no time like the present, and it's ticking away while she's standing around gawping.]


So... how 'bout them new bosses?

[That's how smalltalk works, right? She's never really done it before, but hell, there's a first time for everything.]
skelepun: (im tired)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-04 08:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Nope. I'm an illusion, see? [It was probably a bit of a mean prank, vanishing in front of her like that. Though in Sans' defense, he was back in a matter of moments. Not like it was the first time Surely had seen him teleport, either.] I'm just yanking your chain. S'me, alright. In the flesh.

[In a manner of speaking, anyway. Sans reaches into the garbage, pulling out an apple. It looks startlingly alright, for being trash fruit, and Sans holds it out in her direction.]

I'm more interested in what you think about 'em.

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saveyourserpent: (thoughtful)

8/5

[personal profile] saveyourserpent 2016-08-06 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Now that Liquid thinks about it, he hasn't really seen Sans around in a while, has he? But then again, everyone's always got shit going on, it seems. You can never tell with this stuff.

He's not super surprised about seeing him looking through the garbage, after all, the stuff can be totally interesting, right? It kind of reminds him of how all the knives he'd made with the junk from Del Pascia got confiscated for being junk. He's still kind of sore about that.

Anyway, he heads over after being motioned closer. "What, you find something interesting?"
skelepun: (2450096 (33))

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-08-07 07:17 pm (UTC)(link)
"Something like that." Sans shrugs, smiling enigmatically -- as if he knew any other way. "Take a look."

He gestures to the trash can with a furtive look down the hall. His attitude and mannerisms would suggest he had an impressive haul resting in the can. Of course, upon investigation, the only immediate thought that came to mind was... well, garbage.

"Someone threw a yogurt away in there a few days ago, just a heads up."

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tearmeanewone: (050)

August 5th

[personal profile] tearmeanewone 2016-08-09 10:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[Elizabeth doesn't mean to stare, she really doesn't.]

[She's just a million miles away, somewhere on an ocean with a pirate ship captained by two skeletons. Now that's not something that the strange Ingress caused, it's real. She could do it if something wasn't sucking a good two thirds of her power away.]

[Sans and Wanda were the only ones who had seen it up close and personal, and so even if neither of them had any idea of what happened between the battle for the Moira and her coming out of cryo, she still feels like it's written all over her face. She's a land mine waiting to get buried or stepped on.]

[After a long moment, she comes back to the present, smiles and pulls the books she's carrying closer to her chest-- she's moving her personal collection to the library, just in case these bastards get any funny ideas about airlocking her books. She walks towards Sans, the weariness in her features probably becoming a little more apparent as she moves out of the dimness.]


How have you been?

[Things are terrible now, no point in asking 'how are you'.]