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PORT: MEODRIOTOPE

Feb 11, 2022 – Feb 13, 2022
Welcome to Meodriotope! (Try spelling that without double-checking. I double-dog dare you.) This is our first port. Ports are, as the name implies, a visit to "shore", which can be just about any planet in the Oos Galaxy. This time, the Peregrine is dropping in on a flower-gathering errand, but it's a good opportunity for characters to stretch their legs.

The full OOC write-up for the port is here. If you have any questions about the event, please ask here.

1. Disembarking

For some passengers, this will be the first time they've touched land in almost forty days. Is it unusual, stepping down onto solid ground and breathing cool, fresh air? Is it frightening, to look upon the sea of blue grass and pale sky and realize you have never been so far from home? Is it exciting? Awe-inspiring? Gross, because who likes the outdoors anyway?

Of course, not everyone will disembark. Inmates cannot leave the ship without a warden as escort, and wardens will be responsible for inmates in port — they don't have to be glued to each others' sides, of course, but it's harder to make trouble under a watchful eye.

2. Camp

There'd be a lot of walking without the ATVs, so the Navarch has deployed both vehicles to serve as transport and support for housing. The campsites, once set up, look very much like regular Earth camping — turns out at some point in human development, people pretty much perfected what a rapid set-up/rapid tear-down camp can be, give or take some aesthetic trappings. A sleeping bag is a sleeping bag. A camp stove is a camp stove. It's just cooler when it's made of sleek white metal with designer rounded edges and blue lighting, and all.

There are four tents set up, each sleeping 4-6 people, so even if everyone decided to camp, it won't be too crowded. They are equipped with a solar-air tube that can generate power from sunlight, so they are climate controlled and have built-in lighting. An additional tent serves as a mess tent, though you'll all be eating on little folding chairs. Plastic trunks store rations. Those who want a bit of local fare will have to work for it.

Wardens also have a locked toolbox containing a hatchet, a firestarter, and a pair of utility knives. Should be handy for setting up a campfire at night. Shame no one picked up marshmallows from the commissary; that would have been nice.

3. [Mis]adventuring

There's plenty to see out in the world of Meodriotope:

Burrowing holes — Beware your ankles: the fields are home to colonies of littari, rabbit-like creatures the size of labradors. They leave large holes that are easy to fall into, if you're not watching where you step. This time of year, they usually stay deep in their warrens, but occasionally they pop up to smell the wind and scavenge for edible plants in the thick grasses. They're largely harmless, preferring to flee when possible, but they may go for the calves with their large, blunt teeth when cornered or struck. (They also taste good with mint sauce.)

Lover's Kiss — These little plants can be difficult to find, as they thrive under the grasses' shade, but when you find one, you find a lot of them. Each vine has fifty or more bright, red blooms, pinched at the sides and bowed in the middle like a pair of juicy lips. The Navarch requests that they be harvested; they're used in medicines on a neighboring planet and the Admiralty has asked the Peregrine to pick some up while we're in the area. Be careful, though: if you pluck them too roughly, they'll explode, and the red markings take weeks to wear off skin, even with dutiful scrubbing.

The Fishwives' Village — Five hours west is a small village close to the shore, home to...well, who knows if they're wives, but they have fish heads and bodies with humanoid arms and legs, and they wear little robes. Kind of like reverse mermaids. They are quite small, barely reaching four feet tall, and they speak their own language, leaving communication to little gesticulations and gestures. They live in small stone huts, arranged in concentric circles with a small market in the middle, and barter roast seafood, handicrafts, crabgrass beer, and small tools for off-world goods. Most of their culture seems to revolve around fishing and goods made of woven grasses. The fishwives are fussy about outsiders and carry little fishing spears when they visit, just in case.

The Shoreline — Long, long, long coastlines looking out at the sea, with beaches made up of smooth stones. There are plenty of interesting sea creatures to see in the rocky tide pools, but try not to handle anything indiscriminately (many things bite and some of those things are venomous). You can walk a long way out before the water gets deep, but be careful and make sure you aren't too far out when the tide comes in.

Rock Formations — Weathered in fascinating shapes from centuries of storms and high winds, these formations curl across the southeastern plains. They make swooping sounds when the wind passes through them, like deep and echoing woodwinds. Suneoff, resembling cat-sized mudskippers, dwell in the formations' shadow, while the bat-like knassu nest in the better protected crannies.

4. A Very Wet Last Day

Looks like we didn't manage to miss the rain. The storm clouds on the horizon take their sweet time to arrive, but on the last full day before departure, wardens and inmates will wake to the sound of heavy rain on the roofs of their tents. For some, it may be a struggle to leave the warm, dry confines of the tent to venture into rain. It's the kind that comes down relentlessly, soaking you to the skin within minutes, and cold to boot.

To make matters worse, the rain has transformed the long grasses into a veritable slip-n-slide. Step too quickly and you might find yourself shooting down a sloping hill, or at the very least on your ass. Visibility drops to barely twenty feet ahead.

Packing up in this? Ugh. We have to be back on the ship by nightfall! Anyone who isn't aboard gets left behind.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

1. Disembarking
At this point, Alex was sick of the Peregrine so of COURSE he's going to get out and about for a bit. Fresh air, a chance to do more than just walk the same paths over and over? That, and maybe he was just a little bit excited and more than a little curious about an actual alien to him planet.

It actually shows--that he's impressed, and curious. Crouching down to touch the blue grass in wonder. Then a few cautious steps away before he's taking a moment to sit, and stare up at the sky. Even pulling a few strands of the blue grass and holding them up to study them.

2. Camping
Alex is IN for camping. At least for the few days they're here. That, and well...he had never been camping before. He knew what to do, how to do it, had memories of it that were part of him now. But it was new to him--and Alex was curious. If allowed, he'll help with setting up a campfire, or anything.

You might even be able to find him testing if the grasses can be woven together into useful stuff. Yes--he's basket weaving.

3. Lover's Kiss
He's less than thrilled to be hunting for flowers, but there is definitely a large part of him that is curious about the medicinal properties. Would they be allowed to know what they were? What the flowers did?

Mind, as soon as he's spotting a few of them, he's laughing. Even for a plant they just look so... Something. He probably should've expected it with the name, but really?

Still, he's careful to pluck them. Used to how to handle specimens for science, even if he hadn't been a botanist. No red for him.

4. Misadventures
The Fishwife village had made him look around with wonder yet again. Here was an alien species, but it also had recognizably human-ish features in some ways. Why? How?

He only has some shiny beads so he has to barter carefully. Thin rope or cording, and if he's not stopped--a tiny knife. If asked, he'll explain he wants to do some hunting--see if he can bag a littari or two. If he gets the knife w/o intervention, he's just going to pocket it.

Then, like he said--he's going hunting. Weaving the grasses together to a box or bowl-type shape with the cording for sturdiness. Propping it up with a stick, and baiting it with seeds or a bit of dried fish or whatever. Then, it's just going about his day but periodically checking the trap.

If anyone would let him, and needs him to, he'll drive an ATV (and actually be responsible alright?). It's a different experience than the ones he knows but it's fun. He'll only go reasonably vroom--not tear off like a maniac.

5. Exploring

Alex will admit this is actually very cool. Being on an alien planet. Definitely outside any of his experience. So he's going to explore. You might find him on the beach, where he's careful but examining the water and the wild-life. He might even be walking along the shore with his shoes and socks in one hand, and jeans rolled up.

Or you can definitely find him climbing among the rock structures. Not as easy for him as climbing a Manhattan skyscraper, but he's determined. And his human body is in plenty good shape, at least; agile and strong enough anyways for this.

6. Wildcard
[Got an idea and it doesn't fit in one of these prompts? Feel free to poke me.

[Sure, other Fishwives are selling spears and knives, but are there others that are only selling spears and knives? The Fishwife's wares are nearly blindingly bright, yet still they work at polishing each and every blade, only pausing when an outsider approaches.

Staking the spear they'd been working on in the ground, they gurgle in as welcoming a manner as they might, gesturing at their many blades. Do you want one? Then, before the stranger can answer, the Fishwife sticks their hand out, grasping. What can you give me for it?]

[Okay these beings are....interesting to look at. Better than Alex expected even if he wondered why and how they WORKED, biologically speaking. He wasn't surprised they were wary of the group. No one has stopped him from looking yet though, and when he spots the 'weapons' stall, he smiles. Then grins when the Fishwife manning it gurgles at him and gestures.]

Hi to you too. You've got some very nice shiny sharp things here.

[His tone is friendly and interested, and if he thought he'd get away with it he'd probably buy a spear. Then they're sticking their hand out, and it takes Alex a second. Before he's pulling out the small bag of beads from his pocket. Taking a few out, and holding them out.]

Let's negotiate, buddy.

[The fishwife turns their head back and forth to get a good look at the beads. Yes. Shiny. They know these will go over well with the other traders. They will get many snacks for them.

But the fishwife plays coy, other than the way their hands clench tightly on their own spear. They look about their wares before settling on something resembling a vegetable peeler, though it's a bit large for that. They point at it, then at the beads. A fair trade, for that many.]

[Oh Alex knew there'd be negotiation. And while considering the 'veggie peeler' would work, he wanted something a bit more substantial. He knew he didn't have enough beads for what he TRULY wanted, but he could perhaps spare a few more.]

How about a little better?

[Alex dumps a few more beads into his hand. This'll likely be his only trip out to market, given his lack of funds. This would leave him with at least a little to buy a very small something else.]

[The fishwife gurgles thoughtfully. That is many shinies. What can they stand to spare, and for an outsider...

They point at another weapon staked into the ground. It's fishwife-sized, a little over four feet, but the long handle bears a head with two distinct, sharp prongs. Something like a trident, though much smaller and more precise, especially in the hands of someone so very large.

That?]

[Hmmm...that'd be good for hunting, which IS something Alex wanted to try. But it might also raise questions he doesn't want to answer. Perhaps the smaller knife IS the better choice...]

That is a really nice bident there. You do good work.

[Smiling, because he doesn't know if the other can understand him.]

Much as I want it, I think I'll take the original knife. It's easier to conceal.

[With a sad shake of his head, but Alex points to the original offering. Then shifts the beads anyways without changing the amount, to the Fishwife.]

[Increased profits! Excellent! The fishwife claps their hands and yanks the chosen knife out of the ground, offering it up before grabbing a small bag to gather the beads in. What a good trade. Maybe these big ones aren't so bad.]

Reeds rustle. And rustle. And rustle. As if someone's folding the damn things —

Propped in one of the plastic folding chairs, Silco hardly cuts an imposing figure: A hank of bandage wound about his eyes, and floral shirt draping two sizes two big off his scarred chest. He digs a thumb up, jerked vague in Alex's direction:

"What in the slithering dark are you doing?"

It's meant to be sharp. Lingering venom drags it sluggish, instead.

Alex is sitting on the ground, where it's easier to get his supplies. He looks up from under his hood at the comment, and tilts his head. "What the fuck happened to you?" Silco hadn't struck him as the kind to get into a fight.

Holding up a woven sheet, Alex smirks. "I'm being productive."

Productivity. If he could see beneath two layers of cotton, Silco might roll his eyes. As it stands —

"To what end?"

(He'll skip right past that first question. Better that it remain rhetorical, when the answer involves falling into a fucking tidepool.)

"Keep myself from being bored. If it works, I might try making a trap--try and do some hunting. Or see if I can trade with it." Mostly Alex was doing it because he was bored.

Speaking of jeans rolled up, check out this guy on the rock.

—Well, these aren't jeans he's wearing, but he's got a calf on display nonetheless—just the one, fish-belly pale—and his bony foot dangling just above the water so the swells will touch it as they come in. Just the one. One empty shoe in his lap, one empty sock inside. The other shoe is full and tucked in along his thigh, knee bent out like half a lotus.

He's already looked up once, when the approaching body was far enough away that it would have been awkward to acknowledge it; now it's closer, so he looks up again. Doesn't say anything yet, just looks.

The other was kind of hard to miss, and when he looks up--Alex looks back. Just blinking for a moment before tilting his head to the side. "Warden or Inmate?" His tone is curious, not hostile.

Hello to you, too.

"Warden," he says, and to save him having to ask, "Viktor." He then sits up enough to downgrade his slouch from full self-indulgence to the usual amount.

"Had your fill of picking flowers?"

"They're creepy little things." Alex commented, relaxing a bit with one hand going to his jacket pocket. "You must be new. I'm Alex."

The movement of that hand draws Viktor's eye—just a glance, automatic. He seems to think little of it.

"Yes, I've seen you on the roster. It's good to, eh... put a person to the face, so to speak."

"That's a very polite way of putting it." Alex said with a bit of sarcasm. "Please tell me someone gave you a briefing? I get that you all are disorganized, but a few of them have been here as long as I have at this point."

"About you, specifically?" He shakes his head, plain.

You never came up—that's a reflex induced by the sarcasm, less than productive and better kept to himself.

"Why—is there something specific you think I should know?"

"I meant more in general. I'm one of the quieter ones around here, and so far also pretty well-behaved." There's a hint of smirk, and snark in the tone. "But then, I got shit to do back home, and being here is better than being dead, 'specially if I CAN go back and fix things."

Yes, bare-footed man, Viktor is aware of his basic responsibilities—but then, to be fair, he is out here in the middle of gods-only-know-where sitting on a rock by himself. They needn't circle back around to that.

"Ah. Well, on that we can agree; given the choice, I would much prefer being here to being nowhere." His chin lifts, prompting, "'So far'?"

"So far." Alex repeated, raising an eyebrow. "While I have been bored, and frustrated, I have better ways of dealing with it than random destruction. I also don't see a point in breaking the rules just to break the rules." One shoulder shrugged. "I operate from a position of enlightened self-interest, if that helps. So far, that means I haven't felt a need to cause trouble."

"So far," he repeats, a little humour in the tilt of his head.

"That is something I've been considering, actually—the boredom. This isn't the first time I've heard it brought up."

Both hands brace on the rock, and he pivots to face Alex, lets his bent leg out to hang with its bare-footed sibling.

"What are they? Your... better ways."

"Mostly, I read a lot. If I can get in the gym, I'll pound on the tall punching bag." Alex shrugged both shoulders. "I haven't seen a point in getting all destructive, and no one here has pissed me off yet, so don't need to think about whether it's enough to do something about." He was frustrated about the situation, most of all.

After a low hum of acknowledgement, "The usual, then... ehh, I think, for those among us who struggle with self-possession, unconventional tactics might be required."

Says this extremely pale man with the wild hair, sitting on an alien rock while wearing only one shoe, his crutch leaning there looking like a wizard staff.

"Say someone did— piss you off." This phrase sounds incredible coming out of his mouth, for the record. "What might you do?"

PORT: MEODRIOTOPE

OTA

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2 - basketweaving

:)

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5, the stone beach;

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