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

[murderology]

[ He's committed to his teeth shampooing, even as his face scrunches up and he spits a little too aggressively into the sink. The only thing keeping him from gagging is the fact that he has definitely accidentally chugged shampoo before. He has experience.

Jerry turns his attention to the other newcomer and thinks about that question for all of two seconds before his tired stare transforms into a (tired) wide grin. ]

Technically...yes. [ Can he do it well is the question. ] I cut mine all the time!

[ By "all the time" he means whenever he stops binge drinking and remembers that thing called self-care. It's slightly longer now, after his last cut. But his hair doesn't look like a disaster, at least? ]

[goty]

[Ellie isn't quite in a mood to care if it looks good. Her current cut involved kitchen shears and no mirror. But it just reminds her of her reflection in Santa Barbara's surf, and she wonders if she can get away with it.]

[It feels like a way to cut a piece of her off that she doesn't want. Who can say no to that?]

Wanna help me steal some scissors?

[murderology]

[ As if the very prospect injects life into his being, he doesn't hesitate to answer. ]

You had me at steal.

Normally, I'd probably mildly caution stealing a sharp object from a space prison as being a stupid idea. But stupid ideas are the best ideas — that's just basic math.

[ He takes no criticism. ]

[goty]

[Ellie just kind of squints at him as she makes her way out of the bathroom.] You always say weird shit like that out loud?

[murderology]

[ Jerry shoves his brush in his pocket without rinsing it off. He doesn't really notice despite the wet spot immediately forming in his back pocket. It's fine.

He huffs out a laugh as he follows. ]

Oh, totally. Sometimes I say shit and completely forget about it later. But that's mostly because I'm high out of my mind.

[goty]

[A laugh bubbles up Ellie's throat, and when it reaches the air, she looks surprised by it.] Oookay. Does this shit just come to you, or do you gotta think about it beforehand?

[Everything he says sounds like a less sober Mitch Hedburg impersonation-- Jesse had a VHS by that guy, it was great.]

If you're sniffing glue here, I wanna know where you found it.

[Resources have to be hoarded. It's with this thought that she slides down another hallway.]

[murderology]

Depends on what I'm smoking and or drinking. Currently, I haven't slept in what feels like decades so I'm trying to save precious brain power for things more important than thinking before I speak.

[ Jerry does a lot more thinking than he lets on, but it would be a lie to say he doesn't often just open his mouth and let words come out. ]

Anyway, if I find the right random assortment of household items I could probably make something way better than even your strongest glue.

[ Note to self: all of this. ]

[goty]

[Ellie makes her way quickly down sloping hallways, skittering quietly toward general storage. The doors are wide, and open at irregular intervals.]

That's super reassuring. You ready to jump?

[Go too slow, and you risk getting something crushed in the door's chomping maw.]

[murderology]

[ Jerry doesn't respond straight away, staring quizzically at the automatic doors. ]

That's a safety hazard if I've ever seen one. [ He glances down at Ellie with the doofiest grin a pure doof such as himself is capable of. ] Wanna bet I can jump through it backward with my eyes closed? Wait — maybe not backward, but totally with my eyes closed.

[goty]

Uhhh. [She studies him, the door, him again.] Uh, I don't have anything to bet, so leeeet's play it safe.

[murderology]

Shit, you're right.

[ Literally the only thing keeping him from doing this really stupid thing. Not that he'd necessarily need anything to bet in order to be a reckless idiot, but it's less fun. ]

Alright then — yolo!

[ Could he have just stepped quickly through the doors? Yes. Was it necessary to dive roll like the room he was standing in was about to explode?

Also yes. ]

[goty]

[It tugs at her, the sensible part of herself used to the rigors of survival. She bites her lip to keep from saying something stupid, mocking or criticizing. His life is his problem.]

[His responsibility. Being alive isn't a problem. Not today, anyway.]

[Ellie's approach through the doors is far more measured and careful, getting through fluidly. If anyone were listening, they wouldn't have heard her approach.] Okay. Most of the tools I found were over there.

[She points to crates along the far side of the wall.]