PORT: MEODRIOTOPE

[returnjourney]

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.

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Questions & Answers

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.

Comments

1

[saklas]

[Volk is sitting at the bottom of the ramp, covered in dirt, with his head in his hands. The hole he just fell into and then climbed back out of is next to him. He didn't go that far.]

They sure fucking are, aren't they. No fresh water packed, no house, no князь-damned map, no way to speak the language, and they just went.

[Travis and Rhys aren't like, his friends, or anything, but if they die he loses several important resources. And also they're people, generally you don't like to see people die. He lifts his head.]

Who are you supposed to be?

[In the tone of: okay, hit me with the dumb fucking story about how you're a fairy prince that can turn into a cat or something while we're here in alien hell.]

[reek]

What do you mean “who am I supposed to be”?

[ Theon whirls around to face Volk, and the way he snaps is enough to bite anyone’s head off. He’s miserable and irritated and how dare you speak to him.

He actually is a prince, though.
Just lacking in the cat and fairy department. ]

Who are you supposed to be?

[ This is gonna be a great conversation. ]

[saklas]

There's fifteen people here. I notice when someone's new because I have basic pattern recognition.

I'm Volk. I fell in a fucking ditch. That's who I am now. I'm ditch guy.

[He tries to rattle more dirt out of his hair by scrubbing with both hands. It doesn't really work.]

I hope the ship explodes on takeoff, and we all die. Who are you.

[reek]

How perceptive of you, but who I am won't matter if we all die on takeoff.

[ Theon can’t help but smirk, because he can see the dirt in the other man’s hair and he can see that it isn’t going anywhere. That, and the fact that he is now “ditch guy” is sort of hilarious. He'll remember that.

He'll throw him a bone, though. ]

Theon Greyjoy.

[saklas]

Nothing matters either way??

[That you're suggesting otherwise is ludicrous? Volk gestures out to the entirety of outer space, WHAT THE FUCK.]

Like, nothing is true, and there are other planets, and the people with the power to reach them are using it to kidnap less than twenty socially atrocious white guys and ask them to do gardening?

Theon. Hi.

[He's like this every day of the week, hbu]

[reek]

[ Ugh, don’t remind him of space. He can’t even look out the windows without feeling utterly sick to his stomach. He’s still adjusting to literally everything. You don't get space travel in pseudo-medievalland.

Theon can’t understand half of what Volk is trying to say, but he looks somewhat amused by his ramblings. ]

Perhaps they should have left you in that ditch.

[ Haha, so funny. ]

Are you always like this?

[saklas]

Yes.

[Volk takes a second to think.]

No, usually I'm more pissed off, right now I think I'm in shock.

[But the anxiety is Forever.

He pulls his glasses off to just let them dangle from his hand. The world turns into a blue blur, but at least it looks a lot less like an alien planet.]

Aren't you?

[reek]

[ Yes, Theon is also an extra fragile mess of anger and anxiety. The only thing is that he’s learned to hide it rather masterfully. He can’t imagine just letting all his worries pour out of him like Volk does. No, they must be bottled up forever and ever, lest he be seen as weak. ]

No.

[ Well, yes, but— ]

I lost the ability to be be shocked when I came here.

[saklas]

Resignation. That's a great sign, you know. That's great. I'm sure that's what they want when they kidnap people to "help them."

[He looks for a spot on his clothes that's still clean enough to wipe off his glasses on. Nope, he also got thrown up on, so that's going to be a no-go.]

It's so small, that's the most frustrating part. Everyone's used to being fucked over by huge, impersonal forces, but there are only... ten wardens. It's NOT hard to talk ten people out of things. AND YET.

[reek]

I haven’t resigned myself to anything.

[ Resignation implies giving up. Theon is a stubborn, stubborn man and he has no intention of letting a warden in so easily. He doesn't need help in the way they seem to think he needs help. Or at least, he doesn't think so. ]

I've met men who couldn't talk a cat into a bowl of cream. It doesn't matter how small a group it is. It's easy to tune out someone who doesn't know the proper things to say.

[saklas]

Oh, eat piss, I'm plenty good at knowing the right thing to say.

[Volk stares at the horizon rather than at Theon, like it's personally wronged him.

Considering the state of his clothes, maybe it has.]

It's just this shit. You just have the ability to turn off caring that we're on an alien planet?