3, 2, 1...

[amokus]

FULL NAV ✶ INFO/FAQ ✶ LOCATIONS ✶ PROFILES ✶ IC RULES
PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS ✶ TASKS ✶ CHECK-INS ✶ ???

WAKE UP

The soft, rhythmic whoosh, whoosh of air is what you hear first, perhaps it's a breeze? The cyclical beep beep in the distance doesn't really jive with a lot of nature scenes, though. A moment or two later your vision comes back to you, blurry in the beginning but becoming clearer with each breath you take. All around you is an opaque blue dome, and when you can wrest your limbs to move, the blue retracts and you're met with a staid metal room.

What happened? Where are you? Your memory is fuzzier still, there being no easy way to jog it like your vision. What you can remember is that there was an accident: one minute you were in your home world, and the next you were in this foreign place surrounded by people you've never seen in your life. Not just any people—scientists, who were trying desperately to create matter, to break the laws of physics and chemistry, in order to save their world. Because their world was dying, and they had tried everything else and then some. Their experiment was a failure, but not all is lost—translocation is a valid solution, after all. They could just send all their people to a non-doomed world, and start anew. And they would have, if the machine they used to bring you here hadn't short circuited. Your combined luck isn't terrible, though, somehow, because there exists one more copy of the machine squirreled away in the space colony floating in a distant solar system somewhere, the Plan B of this dying civilization.

That's why you're here, waking up in this pod in a cloud of cold air and colder remembrances to the murmuring of other strangers around you. You don't recognize any of them (vaguely you remember something about keeping the other travelers separate for quarantine purposes), but a soothing, sonorous electronic voice interrupts your thoughts.

GOOD MORNING. WELCOME TO THE WILD DELIVERANCE. THE ONBOARD TEMPERATURE IS 25 DEGREES CENTIGRADE AND THE DAY IS SATURDAY. WE WILL BE ARRIVING AT OUR DESTINATION SHORTLY, SO PLEASE SIT BACK AND RELAX. THE CAPTAIN WELCOMES-

No I fucking don't. Wakey, wakey, you formerly comatose cryptids. We've got a bit of a problem, and no I'm not talkin' about the end of this world, or how you miss your bed and just wanna go home. It's a bit more immediate and simpler than that, ain't that grand?

There's fucking parasitic aliens on this ship and they're not friendly. Just ask our two engineers, Kelvin and Calli—wait you can't, because they're DEAD thanks to our local alien assholes.

Don't worry though, I've got a plan. But hey, if you can solve this on your own go for it—might wanna start with the basic profiles on your new fancy PDA. Maybe you can just ask someone if they're an alien? Hahahahaha.

Talk to ya later!

OOC: Welcome to Convive! All characters wake up in the pod room, completely naked, though their color coded space suit and personal effects are in a storage compartment attached to their pod. Additionally, all characters will naturally understand each other due to a totally innocuous implant!

Also, stand by to meet your friendly neighborhood NPC on Sunday at 1 PM EST. Be there or be square!

Comments

[silentscout]

[He takes the food, and he's still contemplating if it is even edible or not. He's certainly had worse, but he's wondering if he can hold out for food that isn't prepackaged. Like fish, some fresh fish would be good right now.

But when Ibara says that last part, Lalli looks up and immediately gives him a judgemental look. No insulting yourself, Ibara.]

[hebibara]

Hm?

[ If he understands what that look is supposed to communicate, he doesn't show it. He just smiles with a slight tilt of his head. ]

I suppose I can't actually guarantee that it didn't come pre-poisoned in addition to pre-cooked, if that's your concern, but it does seem improbable, given that they went to the trouble of bringing us all the way out here.

[silentscout]

[That isn't what Lalli was worried about, but Lalli is absolute shit at communicating his thoughts. So he just makes a disgruntled noise and starts eating the peas.

They're gross, just as he expected. But if this is what he has to eat here, he will endure. At least until he finds some real meat.

He's going to wander over to one of the tables now, so he can sit while he picks at his gross meal. But once he sits down, he pats the bench next to him. Come join him, Ibara. No putting yourself down, you are acceptable company.]

[hebibara]

Oh? Well, if you insist.

[ He will come over and take a seat, then. ]

This is all quite something, isn't it? I never imagined I would end up traveling to space and soaring through the stars! ...Well, not like this, in any case.

[ He may have had an idea or two for whenever commercial space travel became affordable enough. Anyway! ]

I would be interested in hearing your thoughts on our present situation, if you would like to share them... though I also respect your apparent commitment to maintaining silence, so if you would prefer not to, that's fine as well.

[ Clearly he can talk enough for two people anyway. ]

[silentscout]

[He just. Stares at Ibara for a bit, even after he finishes talking. Ibara is giving him some real Emil-adjacent vibes here, except somehow it's worse because he can understand what Ibara is saying.

He stays quiet for a moment, mouth full of peas, staring.

Then he chews the peas, and swallows them.

And then:]

Need weapons.

[And then he starts eating again.]

[hebibara]

[ Nods enthusiastically! ]

Mm, I agree! If we're truly expected to fend off alien invaders here -- which I will confess still sounds particularly far-fetched, even if the same can be said for everything else about this situation -- I would certainly prefer to have a gun within reach.

[silentscout]

It might just be Trolls and they don't know the right words for it.

[Lalli is kind of hoping it is Trolls, because at least that makes him mildly safer than before. Even if Trolls are horrifying.]