[ooc: already in-game but in case anyone prefers a readily written starter.]
1. bon voyage
[There is crew on the Caledonia that knows how to handle these scenarios. Presumably, a pilot and deck crew that has done countless of these missions, because this is the world she lives in right now, where people have missions in all of space. A Captain who certainly knows their way around black holes, warp speed, and black alert.
Doesn't stop her from feeling the panic that happens when the lights on the lower decks go out, and how it settles like a pressure in her stomach, her heart lodged in her throat. For a few minutes, as the systems reboot and shields go back up, Raven Reyes thinks that she alone needs to run and fix this. Despite being still relatively new to the world, to the ship, to this life, survival instincts kick in. Hard.
So she runs, the brace that makes her able to do so oiled well this time, shining black metal and leather strapped to her left leg over her pants; she runs past service androids and people, towards the engines.
Until she bumps into someone -] Shit, sorry. [- and the lights come back on. She is in front of a large window now, and outside, the universe bursts into life. For that second, she's glued to the view.]
3. to boldly go
[It's the first time she's wearing the space suit, which is sleeker than the space walking one she was used to on the Ark. Despite the jitters of being able to go down to the surface of this new planet, she's got a giddy, big smile on her face under the screen of her mask.
She shifts her weight from one foot to another, waiting for the team leader to open the shuttle doors that will allow them out. Impatient. Definitely impatient.
While a robotic voice urges them to check supplies one last time before proceeding, she chances a glance sideways and finds a new face. Green around the gills, in that not-from-here kind of way.]
(raelle is used to wearing uniforms but this one is so different from her blues; does up different, sits heavier on her shoulders and arms. maybe she should be more nervous than she is, but fort salem pushed her unit harder than anything she's ever known. raelle knows how to take the weird and sudden, and adapt.
nice of somebody else to check in, though. she appreciates the gesture.)
Yeah. (she sounds a little breathless herself. she's never done anything like this in her life before.) – That obvious?
[She's used to fixing old space stations on her own in a suit twice the weight of this one. A walk on a new planet is just as new to Raven too, so she can commiserate.]
Don't take it the wrong way - pretty sure we all have had that look at one point or another. Especially in the beginning. Space, you know?
[There's a hand, held out for the shaking.] Raven Reyes.
[At least she'll know to put her money where her mouth is, in the sense that she's been in space before this. A different, colder space. A hungrier one. But it's like riding a bicycle. (Which she has never done.)
Raelle gets a solid handshake, at least.]
Oh, yeah - as best as I can. Stick close.
[She pulls out her holo and scrolls down to her assignment quickly, just to see where they're headed.] We're collecting metal and mineral samples. Cool.
... Don't have to tell me twice, (she mutters, satisfied with both the firm handshake and the way that raven looks at her, like she's appraising her. so she leans closer to glance at the holo screen, scanning the display– it's startlingly futuristic to her. everything at fort salem is old, and clunky. sometimes she wonders if it's because the general prefers it that way.)
Oh. (that... seems anti-climatic, some how,) Is– that all?
[Sleep eludes her most nights. At first there was an attempt, and then an avoidance, and now there is a weary routine of laying down and staring at the ceiling through the dark. She is alone, for now. Part of her hopes it stays that way; that these halls never become so filled that someone else might have to endure her tossing and turning or the muffled sobs. This room is hers, now, and she will weep and feel sorry for herself if she wants to.
Obviously, she would much rather sleep peacefully. When it doesn't come, she slips on her slippers and the thin robe, and thinks to go to the mess hall. Replicate tea, or something vaguely caffeinated. But the halls are quiet, the night shift tucked away in their own corners. No one is expecting her, or looking, and her curiosity leads her down the paths she otherwise avoids out of fear of reprimand. The thing is, she likes the ship; she likes the familiarity of a hierarchy; likes the order of it. Even her most rebellious urges roll over for it, but in the dead of night, there's no one really to tell her what to do.
She spots the ensign leaving engineering, sees the door stay green instead of red, and when they're gone, she tiptoes to the door, and wonders just what could be dangerous about what lies behind. So of course she goes in.
Nothing is familiar, of course. The consoles are beyond her, but she follows the distant blue glow and stands in front of the glass doors, and just stares at the mycelium, enchanted. ]
to boldy go, vi.
[She has a memory like this: once, when the Rising had taken over her life, Bill Macy had sent her and Gary to patrol the houses for the dead. He had said to burn them, and they had. But the houses had been like this one, things left behind, food turning black on the plates. Jem had knew most of the dead by face alone, and even here, knowing no one, she feels like bitter sadness that comes with a life wasted.
Whatever pushed these people away, it must have been terrible.
She runs her fingers along the odd furniture, looks for things that seem personal. Things that she might want preserved, if this were her home. It's morbid, and after twenty minutes of it, she has to step outside. ] Sorry, sorry - I need some air.
her problem isn't sleeplessness. she's tired enough, practically leaden-limbed as she trails down the hallway in socked feet with one hand trailing across windows, cold to the touch. she's been spending nights lying awake on her back. the nighttime is when the mycelium colonising her throat brews in contemplation, humming gently to herself, and tries to make her host sing.
they don't talk very much. raelle gets the impression that she's looking for something, and when she sleeps, she has confusing dreams about something just out of reach, something familiar. if isadora were here she'd be treated to cups of warm tea and long talks but she's alone up here. not a single other person has the work in them, unless they're hiding it.
tonight is different. they're going somewhere together, and raelle is leaning into the feeling, letting it lead her down, down. over a threshold she isn't supposed to cross, but when did that ever stop her?
somebody else is already looking at the mushrooms.
raelle notices them tucked away behind glass with a surge of relief and disappointment both: it's nothing to do with the mother mycelium after all, but it's familiar to her anyway. she's grateful for that. and losing her mind, apparently, if seeing some kind of weird space fungus makes her feel this happy.)
[There's a hand on her chest, eyes wide with momentary fright. Footsteps are so quiet on this ship; never echoing, like the metal swallows the noise at the source. It's eerie at night, especially for her.
With her heart thumping she shrugs, turning back to the glass. It is beautiful, she supposes. Like life itself is all energy, expanding out and growing. But it's all so small; so spread apart and hardly connected. ] They're mushrooms, right? I wonder why they're so uptight about mushrooms.
(her palms press slowly against the glass, and the fungus reacts. it bends toward her, as if reaching out, and raelle blinks slowly, intrigued, wanting to touch.)
They have to be important, (she says, wondering if they know she's like them.) This is– so weird.
I suppose so. Just seems a bit weird though, right?
[If she stands on her tip-toes, there's some more in the back, glowing a little dimmer. None of it makes much sense to her; they're in space, surrounded by so much technology beyond her wildest imagination, and it's the mushrooms they're keeping under lock and key? ]
[He's so sick of being jostled. This is his first though upon being thrown from his bed, right onto the cold floor of his quarters. He lands in a mess of his sheet and pillow, some of his odds and ends landing squarely on his face. There will be a bruise on his forehead tomorrow, maybe. Just one more thing to be cranky about.
He swears under his breath while he gathers his wits about him, and then he slips his feet into his slippers and starts the long walk to find out why the heck he's been so rudely awakened. Why the whole ship is in chaos. Mobius is old; emergencies hardly phase him now as much as losing a solid eight hours does. ] God, what in the Hell is going on now?
[This is to no one in particular, but maybe you hear it just before stops by one of the circular windows, and looks. He's never seen the beginning of a universe before. In all the times he's erased parts of timelines, he's never seen one being born. The crankiness begins to ebb away, and despite himself, a smile slips onto his lips. ] Geez, would you look at that.
to boldly go, iv.
[As far as oopsies go, this is not the worst thing to happen to Mobius. Quarantine part 2 is a nightmare, obviously, but it's short lived and entirely harmless. The problem, of course, is that he is bright orange. Just absolutely neon. Sure, he isn't alone in this, but it's still a little embarrassing. Now people know he made an oopsie. ]
Do not, [he says, taking a seat. It's the mess hall; he has a tray of food and a strong cup of replicated coffee. He makes a pained expression.] Do not say a word about it. Pass me the salt.
network.
Anyone got any real hooch? This replicated stuff is gonna be the reason I end up t-total.
(raelle raises an eyebrow, but picks up the salt shaker from her side out of the table without comment.)
'Kay. (there's several jokes she could make about eating too many carrots, but instead she chooses to glance pointedly at his cup of coffee before handing what he wants over.) So long as this isn't going in that.
What? [Salt in his coffee? What is he, Loki?] No. It's for my mashed potatoes. The replicator doesn't do seasoning.
[A little motion with his hand, pass it over, come on, and he sighs, staring down at what is a visually perfect replication of mashed potatoes, grilled chicken and a nice little salad. Very healthy. Very protein heavy. ] Come on, a mans gotta eat here.
Oh, (raelle says, passing it over with an exaggerated flourish,) Well in that case.
(if the replicator is so fancy, how come it doesn't salt anything huh. at least raelle chose something that doesn't need it: cereal. it's not the most exciting meal, but at least she's eating it instead of staring mournfully at it.)
Some habits you don't shake I guess. [How do you move on from a regimented diet, Raelle! He can't even get good 90's soda here, he will Endure His Sad Health Meals. ]
You think they got real vinegar here? Thinking about filling a bath with the stuff and seeing if it'll. You know. [He circles around his orange face with his fork. Like this is just a totally normal thing that happens sometimes. ]
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getbriefed2021-08-29 07:30 pm
raven reyes (the 100)
1. bon voyage
[There is crew on the Caledonia that knows how to handle these scenarios. Presumably, a pilot and deck crew that has done countless of these missions, because this is the world she lives in right now, where people have missions in all of space. A Captain who certainly knows their way around black holes, warp speed, and black alert.
Doesn't stop her from feeling the panic that happens when the lights on the lower decks go out, and how it settles like a pressure in her stomach, her heart lodged in her throat. For a few minutes, as the systems reboot and shields go back up, Raven Reyes thinks that she alone needs to run and fix this. Despite being still relatively new to the world, to the ship, to this life, survival instincts kick in. Hard.
So she runs, the brace that makes her able to do so oiled well this time, shining black metal and leather strapped to her left leg over her pants; she runs past service androids and people, towards the engines.
Until she bumps into someone -] Shit, sorry. [- and the lights come back on. She is in front of a large window now, and outside, the universe bursts into life. For that second, she's glued to the view.]
3. to boldly go
[It's the first time she's wearing the space suit, which is sleeker than the space walking one she was used to on the Ark. Despite the jitters of being able to go down to the surface of this new planet, she's got a giddy, big smile on her face under the screen of her mask.
She shifts her weight from one foot to another, waiting for the team leader to open the shuttle doors that will allow them out. Impatient. Definitely impatient.
While a robotic voice urges them to check supplies one last time before proceeding, she chances a glance sideways and finds a new face. Green around the gills, in that not-from-here kind of way.]
Hey - first time?
boldly go
nice of somebody else to check in, though. she appreciates the gesture.)
Yeah. (she sounds a little breathless herself. she's never done anything like this in her life before.) – That obvious?
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Don't take it the wrong way - pretty sure we all have had that look at one point or another. Especially in the beginning. Space, you know?
[There's a hand, held out for the shaking.] Raven Reyes.
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she takes her hand without hesitation.)
Raelle Collar. Can I count on you to show me the ropes?
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Raelle gets a solid handshake, at least.]
Oh, yeah - as best as I can. Stick close.
[She pulls out her holo and scrolls down to her assignment quickly, just to see where they're headed.] We're collecting metal and mineral samples. Cool.
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Oh. (that... seems anti-climatic, some how,) Is– that all?
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jem walker ( in the flesh )
to boldy go, vi.
players choice.
rebirth
her problem isn't sleeplessness. she's tired enough, practically leaden-limbed as she trails down the hallway in socked feet with one hand trailing across windows, cold to the touch. she's been spending nights lying awake on her back. the nighttime is when the mycelium colonising her throat brews in contemplation, humming gently to herself, and tries to make her host sing.
they don't talk very much. raelle gets the impression that she's looking for something, and when she sleeps, she has confusing dreams about something just out of reach, something familiar. if isadora were here she'd be treated to cups of warm tea and long talks but she's alone up here. not a single other person has the work in them, unless they're hiding it.
tonight is different. they're going somewhere together, and raelle is leaning into the feeling, letting it lead her down, down. over a threshold she isn't supposed to cross, but when did that ever stop her?
somebody else is already looking at the mushrooms.
raelle notices them tucked away behind glass with a surge of relief and disappointment both: it's nothing to do with the mother mycelium after all, but it's familiar to her anyway. she's grateful for that. and losing her mind, apparently, if seeing some kind of weird space fungus makes her feel this happy.)
... They're so beautiful.
no subject
[There's a hand on her chest, eyes wide with momentary fright. Footsteps are so quiet on this ship; never echoing, like the metal swallows the noise at the source. It's eerie at night, especially for her.
With her heart thumping she shrugs, turning back to the glass. It is beautiful, she supposes. Like life itself is all energy, expanding out and growing. But it's all so small; so spread apart and hardly connected. ] They're mushrooms, right? I wonder why they're so uptight about mushrooms.
no subject
(her palms press slowly against the glass, and the fungus reacts. it bends toward her, as if reaching out, and raelle blinks slowly, intrigued, wanting to touch.)
They have to be important, (she says, wondering if they know she's like them.) This is– so weird.
no subject
[If she stands on her tip-toes, there's some more in the back, glowing a little dimmer. None of it makes much sense to her; they're in space, surrounded by so much technology beyond her wildest imagination, and it's the mushrooms they're keeping under lock and key? ]
D'you think they're dangerous? Like psychedelic?
mobius. | mcu
[He's so sick of being jostled. This is his first though upon being thrown from his bed, right onto the cold floor of his quarters. He lands in a mess of his sheet and pillow, some of his odds and ends landing squarely on his face. There will be a bruise on his forehead tomorrow, maybe. Just one more thing to be cranky about.
He swears under his breath while he gathers his wits about him, and then he slips his feet into his slippers and starts the long walk to find out why the heck he's been so rudely awakened. Why the whole ship is in chaos. Mobius is old; emergencies hardly phase him now as much as losing a solid eight hours does. ] God, what in the Hell is going on now?
[This is to no one in particular, but maybe you hear it just before stops by one of the circular windows, and looks. He's never seen the beginning of a universe before. In all the times he's erased parts of timelines, he's never seen one being born. The crankiness begins to ebb away, and despite himself, a smile slips onto his lips. ] Geez, would you look at that.
[As far as oopsies go, this is not the worst thing to happen to Mobius. Quarantine part 2 is a nightmare, obviously, but it's short lived and entirely harmless. The problem, of course, is that he is bright orange. Just absolutely neon. Sure, he isn't alone in this, but it's still a little embarrassing. Now people know he made an oopsie. ]
Do not, [he says, taking a seat. It's the mess hall; he has a tray of food and a strong cup of replicated coffee. He makes a pained expression.] Do not say a word about it. Pass me the salt.
Anyone got any real hooch? This replicated stuff is gonna be the reason I end up t-total.
network
really, you're trying to score moonshine? let me guess
space time verse continuum refugee?
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but also, god, just drink the replicator stuff and don't be a snob
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boldly
'Kay. (there's several jokes she could make about eating too many carrots, but instead she chooses to glance pointedly at his cup of coffee before handing what he wants over.) So long as this isn't going in that.
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[A little motion with his hand, pass it over, come on, and he sighs, staring down at what is a visually perfect replication of mashed potatoes, grilled chicken and a nice little salad. Very healthy. Very protein heavy. ] Come on, a mans gotta eat here.
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(if the replicator is so fancy, how come it doesn't salt anything huh. at least raelle chose something that doesn't need it: cereal. it's not the most exciting meal, but at least she's eating it instead of staring mournfully at it.)
You look really excited about that.
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You think they got real vinegar here? Thinking about filling a bath with the stuff and seeing if it'll. You know. [He circles around his orange face with his fork. Like this is just a totally normal thing that happens sometimes. ]
network
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just say what you're looking for
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