Reverie

hi, i'm ava

[ she's gone through the various stages of grief in the days since her arrival. grief at losing her chance of learning how to live a normal life. grief at losing the first person who'd really understood her pain. grief at losing a cure that had been within her grasp.

grief at being on a damn space station, of all things. (maybe they should be renamed the various stages of anger.)

she's settled on something akin to resignation, for now. she's here. she still wants to try. ]

what are things you consider normal? how many of them can you still do here

[ tetora's already having second thoughts while typing out this post, but the fact that the pillbox in his pocket is near-empty informs him that this is a painful necessity in order to survive. this means disclosing certain aspects about himself that he'd rather not, but means and ends and all that. something about justification and not remembering it correctly. ]

hi. the name's tetora, and i need to take a cocktail of drugs regularly to keep functioning like a human being. i've already been to the medbay and it doesn't what i need exactly.

so i'm asking if anyone can help formulate the stuff i need. i've got samples you can use, so long as you get most of it back to me. i only have my skills to trade, because i don't have money and i don't have anything else valuable on me. i can make knives, if there's a need for that here.

i realize this is a weird time to be asking because half the ship's down with the sickness, it seems like, but if you've got a minute to spare while trying not to die, i'd appreciate it and owe you.

This is 9S.

[The video feed starts, showing a familiar looking android in a very unfamiliar location. It's the hangar bay, with two ships seated behind him. He's smiling brighter than he has in awhile, obviously feeling pretty good about himself after such a major breakthrough.]

As of last night, Haruto and I have unlocked the hangar doors. There's two large ships that look usable, but they need a command code in order to even get the doors open.

There's also four of these vehicles...? [9S points the camera at a set of rovers, and then pans over to show off the surface probes.] And a dozen of these weird things.

[Sorry, he really has no idea what they're called. He's not an astronaut.]

Anyway, it shouldn't take long to break the code for the ships, but I'm betting everything else needs a code too. They sure had this place locked up tight.... It's probably for the best if we keep all the equipment in the hanger bay for now. I don't think we'll be getting any replacement parts.

~~~~~~

[VOICE] @nines

[A day passes, and there's another post by 9S on the network.]

This is 9S again.

I've cracked the first command code for one of the ships. It took longer than I expected, so any help is appreciated. There's still a long way to go.

[Then, a bit more off the cuff.] Um... We also might want to figure out if anyone can even fly these things? Yeeaah...

[He won't mention the voice he swears he heard after unlocking the ship. A woman's voice chiding him, "Do you even know how to fly these things?"]

[ ooc: I won't be making a log for the unlocking specifically, but this post can be used to have characters offer help and segue into action (or simply do it off screen). Mods said it will take 10 days for the codes on the ship and crawlers to all be unlocked. Feel free to threadjack, etc. ]

2 Days After the Music stops

[Venus did it. She unscrambled the meaning behind the mysterious text, and Ryuji had taken the list of all their best guesses to both the doors that required 8-digit passcodes. And here it was. A small swoosh of the door and Ryuji gets a first glance of this place. He walks around for a few seconds, not knowing... what any of this stuff is, and decides to call in people that are much smarter than him to come see.]

>@aphrodite, @r.asuka, @hudie

HOLY SHIT

BINGO

DUUUUDES... YOU GOTTA SEE THIS SHIT

IT'S SOME FRIGGEN LABORATORY OR SOMETHING

Like.

Test beakers, pods, all sortsa weird shit



5 Days After the discovery

[And then some time passes, it's probably... safe? To share this with the rest of the station, so Ryuji starts out a text to the station residents.]

>@all

Yooo stationites, Ryuji here. Probably met about half of you already? If not, come say hi or something wth

Anyway, just sharin' something that happened the other day

I got a weird text on my phone a little while ago with some cryptic ass shit on it

Some of us got together to figure out that it was a passcode to a door or something

Anyway, long story short, we opened one and it led to what looks like a hospital? Or a research lab. Comes pretty well stocked with medical supplies and shit. I spent the last fives days inventorying pretty much everything, so I guess if there are some doctors on board that wanna take up an office or something, here's your place

Looks like most of the stuff is safe too

file0075.jpg Deck 5

I'm going to the planet below sometime soon when I feel like it. This is an open offer to anyone to come with me. Just know that I refuse to guarantee anyone's safety, so if you can't survive in space without oxygen or on unknown planets with unknown atmospheres, you might wanna reconsider coming along.

Also I can only bring like, three people, because I don't feel like carting around more than three of you. [She holds up exactly three fingers.]

Other than that, I'll need someone to look after Pumpkin while I'm gone. She's very important to me so if you screw up I'll make you regret it.

[As if on cue, an extremely adorable sentient pumpkin jumps up onto Lapis' lap, looks into the communicator, and barks.

And then licks the screen. Enjoy your pumpkin kisses, station.]

[ooc; i'll probably rng if more people wanna go and have Lapis hit them up privately!]

[After finding a new communicator in a mug and seeing that it didn't have a username registered... Lucifer figured he could try actually talking directly to the station, without the proxy of Kira.]

Good Evening, Reverie Station.

I have been wondering something that is not immediately relevant. How many of you believe in God? Or in Gods? If you do, do you worship them?

Conversely, do you believe in Hell? Demons? The Devil?

I realize this is a lot of questions, and I apologize, but it would be quite nice if you would satisfy my curiosity.

One more question- for those faithful and those who are not, how would you react, should you meet someone that turns out to be the First of the Fallen? Whether you believe or not, let's say in this hypothetical situation that you do.

 Hey, ya'll.

[ Hi Reverie Fam, it's your resident faux texan Martian, here, his warm drawl caressing your ears. For those of you that have them and can still hear out of them, anyway. ]

So I've been thinkin'. 

We've been gettin' access to some new areas, but I'll be honest and say that there's on in particular I've been most interested in gettin' in, but we might need a team to do it like we did for the door to Operations. We need to get into the Hangar Bay. We know there is one - the map up in operations made that clear, and I'm pretty sure I even know the exact door we need to get in. We just need to get in  it.

So I thought--

[ He cuts off sharply with an ow!, and then there's a clattering noise as the communicator hits the floor. Silence for a couple seconds, and then in a breathless whisper that sounds like it's coming from several feet away: ]

Holy shit, where did these come from? [ There's another rustling and clattering and the next time his voice is audible, it's from much closer to the mic. ]

Folks, I think we've got a ride. 

I think we've got two rides, and--

Wait, what? Where the hell'd they go??

[The audio disconnects.]

( they’re standing in front of what looks to be a garden, even though it’s empty at present. miller is standing there in his porkpie hat and for once he looks… happy? he claps prax on the shoulder with a small smile and gestures back through like they should show everyone around. )

I told you we’d find it, didn’t I, botanist?

( prax is smiling, too, eyes not focused on the camera but on the rows of hydroponic installations. )

You did. ( that’s soft. a little more firmly, addressing not just miller even though he still isn’t looking at the camera: ) This is enough space to ensure food supply and air filtration, if we’re creative. And if the seeds are still viable, there’s almost enough to fill the spaces in the mess hall tables and the corridors, too.

( and the chapel, don’t sue him for forgetting that. )

Potatoes, mushrooms. ( and then, with obvious pleasure: ) Soy.

( miller raises his arms up to the ceiling in apparent victory, just as excited though he doesn’t know dick about gardening. )

Air is good, isn’t it? Air is nice. ( he addresses his smartwatch again after the brief distraction, ) That doesn’t mean you assholes can smoke, got it? Keep it classy, Inners. We’ll keep everyone breathing easy with these greens, but you all have to do your part and not fuck it up.

( prax nods. he wouldn’t have put it in those terms but yeah. ) We’ll need to test these seeds for viability. Plant them, if they are. Figure out the proper mineral solution needed for long-term stability.

( he glances at miller, then - finally - at the camera. he looks hopeful. ) This is good.

( miller nods at prax a final time and gets a last word in before cutting the feed: ) We all might not die. ( his optimism truly is something to be admired, isn’t it? )

[Ashford had woken up on the 4th deck but as per his nature was not content to simply sit there and wait, so he's managed to gracelessly drag and shuffle his way to Deck 2 and has now slumped into one of the booths.]

This...this is Captain Klaes Ashford... OPA....of the Behemoth. If any of my crew have also been brought to this place and can hear this message report to me in the mess hall ASAP. Other than that I would be grateful for any information regarding this station, our situation here, or the whereabouts of my ship and--

[A wheezing cough and a throaty struggle for breath followed by some mumbled cursing] 

...sabaka....

[Another hacking sound] 

--and medical assistance. If there are any medical personnel on this station I would appreciate it if you would now make yourselves known.

[A last choked off breath that leads into a throaty grunt of a sound]

Sooner is better than later. 

[The camera is set a few feet away, so both Mike and the Command Deck video screen fit in view. He speaks with an easy authority, a man used to leading meetings.]

As many of you have probably heard, after the door to the Command Deck was breached video logs of the previous crew were discovered. Many of them are corrupted, and a lot of them that aren't don't seem to have any real substance - they're just the day to day operations of the station - but we have found one that's different.

[He leans, reaching out to something just out of view, and suddenly the large video screen comes to life. Mike turns slightly to watch with the camera.

A woman orders one crew member to contact mission command. She then informs mission command that they are about to begin test zero-zero-five and to stand by. The crew clearly knows the protocol for running this test; various crew members call out their tasks, from slowing the rings to a stop (after which gravity ceases on the command desk and presumably everywhere on the station) to initiating drive.

There is a tense moment. A crew member keeps calling percentages: “Drive at five percent. Drive at ten percent.”

Eventually: “Drive steady at 60 percent. Steady -”

Several consoles beep. “Drive failed.”

The woman contacts mission command again: “Be advised. Test zero-zero-five failed after a climb to 60%.”

The video comes to and end and the screen winks to black. Mike looks back at the camera.]

As best as we can tell, the woman giving the orders is the same "Ghost" recently recorded and posted to this same network. Clearly, they were running experiments here. For what end? The videos don't say. But given the state of things.... Bets are they didn't end well.

Alright, I won't waste anyone's time with pointless questions about how or why we got here, but there are a couple of things I'm looking for information about:

1. How many minors and noncombatants are aboard this station? Note, these are separate categories. I don't care how powerful or skilled you are; if you're under twenty, I consider you a member of the former.

2. It'll be helpful for us to have an idea of each other's Quirks. I'm not under the illusion that all of us have reason to trust each other or cooperate, but presumably none of us want to be here, so. If you're willing to provide information on any abilities you might have that could be considered "supernatural" in any way, I intend to compile it for our collective use.

[ The question Haruto wants to ask is simple, but he doesn't want to risk the "Hideki Matsukawa" persona he's built up for himself. So, he posts using his other, anonymous communicator. ]

if you could help, but doing so would put yourself at risk, would you?

[ The camera filming is the one from the console in the wall of the garden, the one that Haru put together. It shows Amos, fingers brushing along the plants hooked together along the wall. He has a smile on his face, and his touch seems incredibly gentle, his lips parted as he looks at the greenery. ]

Have you ever seen something more amazing? These plants are keeping us alive. Literally. Scrubbing up the air we breathe, putting it back out as something we can use. They take so much work, so much patience, so much knowledge. To keep them alive, help them grow. So amazing.

[ He stops, his face closing up all of a sudden. His jaw ticks with a muscle under the beard, and his hands turn into fists. He pulls away from the wall. It seems like a sudden change in mood, something like a switch has been flipped, all of a sudden. His posture tenses, his eyes start stinging. ]

This place is killing us. It's - it's killed my friend, already. He's more than a friend, really. He's my brother.

[ If you've met Amos, had a chat with him, you might realize that this video is pretty... well, unlike him. He doesn't seem to really recognize that fact, though, looking straight at the camera with his eyes slightly teary. ]

Be careful. This station does shit to us. [ Pause. Amos wipes at his eyes. Sniffles. ] Oh and by the way, guys, it's a station, not a ship. Don't make me say it again.

[ He doesn't sound angry, even when he says this, tired of having to repeat himself. There's a suspicious complete lack of anger throughout the whole entry. ]

Seriously, we need to get off this barge. All of us. If you think there's nothing you can do, I promise you, there is. We gotta work together.

[The call registers as video, but displays only a geometric mess of blue. Those who recognize the logo won't be too surprised by what comes next.]

<Welcome to Domesticon. Working together today, for a more efficient tomorrow.>

[Cheery and automated, like a call center recording... and replaced, immediately after with a much more human range of tone.]

Hey. Me again.

So, your friendly local techs took a crack at system access the other day. Most functions are still locked, but we're reading big electrical spikes along the shaft and behind the sealed area on Deck Two. Something to think about, if you're the type to pry at doors.

[If, unfortunately not the only thing.]

This also, ah... showed up on the camera feeds.

[The AI's "face" vanishes from the video display, replaced with a view from one of the consoles. It shows a young, fair-haired human making his way down one of Reverie's many halls: Snake, for those who knew him. He doesn't do anything unusual. But after a moment, the human's outline distorts... shimmers... and melts away, leaving no trace of flesh or clothing.

The video reverts, and Hank's voice picks back up, tense with concern.]

He's not the only one. Run a headcount with your friends?


[[ooc: The tech collaboration he's referring to is here. While not OOCly planned in conjunction, the Deck 2 spike is the same area Team Door will be ICly going for on the 15th—so feel free to have your characters connect the dots!]]

[Bobbie's long, dark hair is loose around her shoulders. She's not wearing the standard station suit—instead, she's wearing something tighter, with a diamond pattern and oddly shaped plating on the shoulders and chest, embedded with some sort of circuitry. She raises her hand, giving her communicator a little wave.]

Hey kids. Now that the gravity's back on, it's business as usual, yeah?

A while back Amos posted some tips about living in space. One of those is exercising—muscles atrophy in low-g much faster than on a proper planet, and we don't all want to turn into noodles. Most of you probably don't know anything about resistance training in space, though, so that's where I come in. If anyone wants a trainer, drop me a line, and if any of you want to learn self-defense or how to throw a solid punch, I can help with that, too. Unfortunately I don't have a gun, so I can't help anyone there.

[Does she sound a little bitter? She's a little bitter.]

By the way, has anyone figured out how to get the replicators to stop spitting up slop yet?

[ a broad man with a black hoodie pulled on over his jumpsuit appears on screen as if he’s been prodded out in front of the camera with a stick and the reality isn’t so different. there’s a dark purple ring around one of his eyes and he clears his throat nervously, gaze wide and wild as he holds his communicator steady. the backdrop of his room - identical to every other room on the station - can be seen from where he’s perching on the edge of his bed. ]

Something happened… something everyone should probably - see.

[ the picture turns to focus on a young girl sitting beside him like she grabbed his wrist and turned it forcefully. (frank doesn't react to this treatment.) the girl might be recognizable to some as that tiny teenaged girl who keeps inviting everyone to sit with her at every meal. she tends to make an impression even without the big personality, dark hair, eyes, skin, and long nose. (the rambling helps too.) she brushes her dark waves out of her face, determination written all over it. ]

They definitely have to see it, Frank! [ she insists for what sounds like the hundredth time, taking a deep breath to start her explanation. ] Okay so backstory before we show this. I live next door and heard Max barking so I rushed over to see what was up like a responsible neighbor and caught… that. To be honest I wasn’t sure it was real until I started recording. Whatever it- or whoever it was I guess is more accurate. All I know is that it was real enough that Max was spooked by it and obviously us. You’ll have to help us figure out exactly what we saw so… yeah. Let’s roll the tape and see what you guys make of her.

Her. Yeah. [ christ. frank turns so that he can film her communicator and the picture focuses on a video that starts broadcasting in a hologram. at first it’s just shakycam and a dog barking, but then the woman can be seen on screen. she’s wearing a deep blue jumpsuit, the same as theirs with the reverie terminal insignia on it. she’s maybe 50 years old at the most and stands ramrod straight, hands clasped behind her back. frank had immediately clocked her as military, or whatever the space equivalent is. she seems to lock eyes with the screen before proclaiming: ] Be ready to initiate lockdown. [ it’s audible as Max’s barks slowly peter out and kamala speaks up in the background of the video. ] I see her. So does the device.

[ a knife comes hurtling from offscreen and sails through the image of the lady ineffectually, hitting the far wall and dropping to the floor in the same instant she blinks out of existence. the video closes and frank and kamala both squeeze into the frame of the present video now. ]

Seems like some sort of recording, to us anyway... [ he shrugs. ] We figured you guys know more about space shit than we do, though. [ thus the sharing. ]

So if you're watching this, make sure to share it with everyone you've met or know since some of you have your friends here. Together we can totally figure this out.... but, mostly share it with the space people since this is probably a space thing. Bye! [ ...end scene ]

[ at approximately 1930 hours, on the ic equivalent of may 21, a message is broadcast to the network. it reads as follows: ]

To the people of Reverie Terminal:

This station has been corrupted. The souls of its inhabitants are lost, taken in by tyranny and complacency. And I have not turned a blind eye.

In three days time, at precisely 2100 hours, my greatest heist will begin. By the end of the night, the alcohol you hold so dear will be gone.

This is your only warning. Repent if you wish to be saved.


[ ooc: venus is a giant overdramatic idiot and, thanks to akechi teaching her about phantom thieves, as decided that this is the best way to announce her idea for a drinking party!! no actual heist is going to happen when the time comes, and after a few minutes of no response venus is going to just suggest anyone who wants to grab a drink. (get it. because they're making the liquor disappear. she's so clever we're all very proud of her)

no replies will be sent out to this post. notifs are disabled for me, so feel free to threadjack! log will be going up when written! ]

[ The video opens to Amos munching on what looks like one of the protein bars the fabricator seem to produce by the dozen. He's looking straight at the camera - this is no mistake broadcast, he learned from the best how to do this - and half of him is in the frame. ]

People keep on asking me about this stuff once they realize I've lived in space a while, so I'm just going to share my wisdom with you all so I don't have to say it a million times again.

[ He stands, the angle of the video changing as he grabs the communicator he borrowed from Alex to broadcast this. As it moves, it pans over what looks like a very large shortgun type of weapon. It ends up points towards Amos's lower body, more specifically, his boots. ]

Okay, first off, keep your mag boots on. Sleep with them if you can. To engage them, lean back on your heels, and walk like you're wearing pumps. Heel first, then toe.

[ He demonstrates on camera. How does he know how to walk in pumps? Who knows?

He turns the communicator back up towards his face, after a few steps. ]

Second, if you feel nauseous when you're walking around the station, try to see if you're walking spinward or counter-spinward. As in, if you walking with the spin of the gravitation rings or not. Walking against it is going to make you feel worse.

Third, don't eat too much, but don't forget to eat, either. Sounds basic, but you'd be surprised.

[ He almost adds that coffee is not a form of food. ]

Fourth, make use of the fitness area on deck 4. We're not at full gravity here, and in space, you lose muscle mass very fast. If you don't want to turn into a noodle, weightlifting and cardio.

Fifth, stow your gear. There are all of these compartments in the crew quarters, don't leave shit hanging around. Anything can turn into a weapon if we suddenly lose gravity, or if it turns out that this barge can do maneuvers. You don't want a mug coming at your face at 4-g.

[ Seriously, stow your gear, people. It's not that hard. ]

Sixth, don't use the sealant guns without gloves. This shit will glue your hands together. Be smarter than that.

[ He resumes eating his protein bar. ]

That's the most important points I wanted to make. Now, if you've got specific questions, shoot.

Hi. My name is Captain Steve Rogers. I wanted to introduce myself to everyone. Where I come from, protecting people was very important to me. It still is. This ship is dangerous and I think we're getting side-tracked from an important conversation here.

I don't think we should worry too much about that roster file we were sent, but it's not a bad idea to have some sort of security team that can respond to a crisis and keep track of everything we have figured out about this place so far. I'd like to help with any effort like that, but it might be best if we wait before assigning rank to anyone. Fighting over who's the boss or throwing baseless orders around isn't going to help anyone or keep them safe. Our priorities should be safety and finding a way to leave.

It's been suggested to me that some of the things that have been happening to us could be some sort of security response from the ship. Does anyone with a better understanding of computers want to weigh in on that? Can anyone try to access those systems? There's still a lot of the station that we can't access and I know some of us have been trying to work on that.

Finally, if there's anything else I can help with, please reach out to me.

[ And a later text that follows: ]

I think people have misunderstood what I want to do. I don't want anyone to have power over the rest of us. This would be for dealing with outside threats and organizing information that would be available to everyone. Anyone who wanted to help would be welcome.

I don't understand why anyone is scrambling to fill positions just because we've all gotten a list from some mysterious source. Those might have been the jobs on the station before it was deserted, but that doesn't mean we need to force people into those roles now. None of us know each other, which means none of us can make any good, informed decisions.

I do think it's important that we have people working on some of the things listed, but I suggest we use volunteer groups. Anyone with experience in engineering and mechanics can form one group to work on unlocking the station and getting it in working order. There can be a group of medics and doctors, researchers, whatever we all decide is useful, but I think the best choice at the moment is to have those groups be on equal footing and make decisions together.

Putting anyone in any sort of position of authority now, when there are so few of us and we've only known each other a few weeks, is a terrible idea. The chance of someone charismatic and ill-suited taking control is too high, and I don't want to deal with anyone abusing their power on top of everything else.