MINI-EVENT: RENDEZVOUS

[returnjourney]

MINI-EVENT: RENDEZVOUS

March 9th, 2022
Tasked with picking up some emergency botanical supplies, the Peregrine stopped in Meodriotope in February and is now making haste towards another ship, for a rendezvous and hand-off of the supplies. In late morning, the view out of the windows on one side of the Peregrine will be blocked almost entirely by another ship — the Feather, also from the Admiralty's fleet. The hand-off will take place here, between two ships.

In the afternoon (local Peregrine time), a mini transport from the other ship docks in the Peregrine's loading bay. Three passengers disembark to assist in the loading, have some brief conversations, and then be on their way.

If you have any questions about the event, please ask here.

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1. Observing the Feather

The Feather is one of the oldest ships in the Admiralty's fleet, a fact that is perhaps less known than intuited, simply by looking at it. While the Peregrine's sleek helices and centre spire move through space like some deep-sea organism, the Feather is a great drifting whale, its broad and boxy body speckled with simple portholes. The sides are painted with murals — abstract swirls of colour, flowers the size of houses, massive birds flitting between them. There's text that must have taken quite the ladder to paint: "Hope is a thing with feathers!" The murals are patchy and worn, but there's a lot of love there.

But despite how massive it is, it floats weightless in space. It comes so close to the Peregrine's side that it almost seems like they could brush, and the ships' respective force-fields thrum as they "merge", blending into one large bubble. In the distance, one can see quite a number of passengers on an outside deck, gathered at the railings to watch. Too far to shout across, but certainly close enough to see tiny limbs waving hello!

In the observatory, the computer monologues:

"The Feather. Currently on the 18th year of its current mission. Current population consists of 295 wardens, 306 inmates, 5 graduates in-transition and 53 supporting staff. Most passengers are from Earth Variants. The Feather is currently headed by Navarch Margaret "Old Lady" Lloyd, a Navarch with 45 years of experience..."

2. Loading the Materials

Want to lend a hand? The more the merrier. The crates of Lover's Kiss must be brought to the loading bay, checked and then loaded into the waiting transport ship. Caution is a must; we can't have the flowers crushed or damaged when they're sorely needed for medicines at their final destination.

Helping, of course, are the representatives from the Feather: two wardens and an inmate. (They'll have their own top levels below!)

3. Rewards

Passengers identified to the Navarch as having assisted in the gathering efforts will have a delivery bot stop by with a clear plastic container fogged over by steam. The container is warm to the touch, and opening it reveals a lusciously greasy cheeseburger with all the fixings, a mound of thick-cut salted french fries, and the fattest, cheesiest, richest-looking slice of pizza known to mankind. The food is cradled by red food-wrapping sheets with a white PIZZA PLANET logo. Enjoy!

(Or kill someone for a french fry after weeks or months of eating processed food substitutes. You do you.)

4. Oops, Caught Red-Handed!

So there was that thing the Navarch said — the flowers are fragile and must be handled with care, as they are only useful intact. And sure enough, on the surface of Meodriotope, dutiful flower-pickers had discovered that if you plucked them too roughly, they'd explode, leaving red stains that take weeks to wear off skin, even with dutiful scrubbing. It's been weeks and they're just starting to fade, fortunately, but there's a second phase.

Passengers stained red might discover they're having trouble sleeping. The redder they are, the longer their minds refuse to rest. In severe cases, this results full-blown insomnia. In mild cases, the body may shut down while the mind remains completely alert. These effects could last anywhere between a few days to a full week.

Good luck!

Comments

[rank1]

Hold your horses, lady, I’m savoring this.

[What follows is a terribly dramatic display of consuming a single French fry, each comedically small bite like a starving man eating for the first time in days. The apex of his life shall hence identified as this salty, starchy moment.]

Perfection.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[She pauses her burger inhalation to stuff a whole fry into her mouth. Still good. She picks up another, but offers it for him to take.

She's in a generous mood.]

[rank1]

[Travis considers for 0.5 seconds that he is the world's cheapest date, and promptly decides he does not care. He takes it.]

Thanks.

[And, with a full mouth as he pops it in:]

You got kids back home?

[nineteenfortyfive]

[She's not even hoping he'll choke on it. It would be her problem to fix that, anyway...

At his question, she nods.]

Grown, with children of their own. Why do you ask?

[rank1]

Seemed like the type.

[He shrugs. How many parents does he know, anyway? That's always felt like an island on a strange shore. Who knows how anyone else lives?]

Most people wouldn't feed just anyone who comes along.

[nineteenfortyfive]

It's cruel to stuff you face in front of someone. And do I look like I can finish all this by myself, besides?

[The burger is the best thing in the box, and so she nudges the box a little closer to him.]

You can have the pizza slice, if you'd like.

[Maybe. Just maybe... if they're a little more friendly, he won't decide to stab her in the next stupid escape attempt.]

[rank1]

Yeah, you look like you could turn sideways and [a sharp gesture down] fall right through a gap in the floor boards.

[This is both a Family Guy joke and not even applicable, given the floor is goddamn tile, but she'll get the point, he's sure. And though her kindness is genuinely surprising to him, he takes one look at the slice in the box and makes no move to take it.]

Nah. Thanks but I don't really do pizza.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[The comment is funny, but the pizza part makes her frown in disapproval. She didn't plan for rejection.]

You don't like pizza?

[rank1]

[It seems like such a stupid, small thing, and for an instant, he considers taking it anyway just so he doesn't have to explain it. But fuck it, what was it he said to Lucifer? People react like shit whenever he talks about death, so there's no point in doing it. Might as well give her the lamest version possible:]

Used to deliver them. Once you've seen that much pizza, you get tired of it.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Pizza delivery to assassin? And she thought her life was odd.]

Have the rest of the fries, then. Though I am curious about the road you've traveled that took you so far away from pizza delivery.

[rank1]

[That he'll take, and gladly. He pops one in his mouth.]

I was kinda doing both pizza and [what to call it?] fights for a while. I never made that much money off fights because the Association took most of it... still had to pay the rent, though.

[nineteenfortyfive]

I suppose you didn't really have family to support you if you were in that situation to begin with.

[Struggling to get by and all that.]

[rank1]

[Travis remains straight-faced. He nods.]

I'm a lone wolf kind of guy.

[Wife included.]

[nineteenfortyfive]

By choice?

[Does he prefer... foam?]

[rank1]

[There's a little flex to his jaw.]

How much of anything is a choice? Sometimes it's just the hand you're dealt.

[nineteenfortyfive]

I don't know. You haven't made a lot of friends here, for one.

[Maybe don't bloody noses! Or pick fights! But who is she to judge?]

Easier that way?

[rank1]

Friends tend to get killed. They’re easy targets for my enemies.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Friends do tend to get killed... Claire is nearing the end of her burger, but is slowing down. Oof.]

Doesn't seem like the makings of a very happy life, does it?

[rank1]

[He grimaces. He underestimated wardens; nobody says this shit to him back home. No one thinks about being happy. It's the kind of thing magical girls say, strictly in the realm of fiction.

He peels a piece of pepperoni off the pizza.]

Nah, but having friends getting murdered doesn't do it for me either.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Technically, she is a magical girl. Travis is blessed this day.]

What does? I mean, I don't suppose if you could rewind, go back in time... [Ha.]

Would you want things to be different?

[rank1]

[Aww, thanks Higurashi Kagome.]

I never get why people ask that question. Of course I'd want things to be different, but it's not like anyone can actually make it happen. Especially not in a way that wouldn't fuck up the good things.

[nineteenfortyfive]

Well, no. The past is the past. But that question gives a good indication of... one's wants and desires. Their hopes and regrets.

[The past seems to be annoyingly set in stone.]

[rank1]

[He looks at her across the table, mouth drawn into a hard line, brows furrowed. Tough questions.]

I don’t have hopes. Hell, I barely have regrets. Why bother? The future’s gonna be the future too.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Claire frowns, troubled by that response, but it's behind what's left of her burger.]

Then what do you have? Hopes and regrets are building blocks of a person. Maybe you call hope something different. Aspirations? Goals?

[rank1]

[Travis Touchdown, lacking the building blocks of personhood, like some sort of deranged second-hand Duplo set. He leans back in his seat, finished with the fries, and he tucks his hands into his pockets.]

I've accomplished everything I wanted, so now I'm just going to kick back and relax. Play a lot of video games, track down some limited editions, that kind of thing.