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

[dealwiththe]

[ He hates that thought. Maybe he's conflating Ellie with his own daughter, but the thought of any child having to endure that sort of thing - to not have a childhood - makes him nauseous. Chloe would hate it, too.

But he can't change that for Ellie. What she's been through - he can't do anything about that. ]

That blows.

[ He says that with feeling. ]

Maybe the next planet we stop at will have some good parties.

[goty]

[It gets something like a laugh out of her, quiet and quick.] I'm not big on parties. Bet you are, though.

[dealwiththe]

Traditionally, yes, I love a good party. Maybe not quite as much of a party animal as I used to be, however.

[ He glances out the window at the Feather for a moment. ]

What sort of planet would you be interested in? Beach? Snowy? High-tech? Fairy dust?

why did i switch to brackets wtf.

[goty]

She stops her drawing, and stares out into space. Around them, endless star fields swirl, untouched by time's petty concerns. The depth of space is quiet, dark, like the soundless cold of winter, but without its pressing dangers. It feels like the bitter judgement of love.

"When Gene Cernan went up to the moon," she says, "he wrote his daughter's initials in the, y'know, the moon dust. The moon's got no atmosphere, no wind, no rain. Those letters are still up there. They're gonna be there for centuries."

She hopes that answers Lucifer's question.

just keeping me on my toes!

[dealwiththe]

"You want to leave a mark on the universe?" Lucifer offers up after a moment's thought. "A...legacy?"

He considers. "Because if you just want to throw a party on the moon, I don't think that would work very well."

hahaha my plan all along.

[goty]

Ellie shakes her head, and her fingers trace words in the air. They leave no records. "I wouldn't write my name. But- yeah. Once, I wanted to be in the history books."

[dealwiththe]

"I wouldn't write my name, either," Lucifer says easily. "There are lots of ways to leave your mark. Some better, some worse."

[goty]

Ellie's laugh is deep and dark in her throat. "Yeah. Believe me, I know."

Seattle's dead pile higher. How many did she kill there? And in California? The Lakeside Resort?

"I don't wanna anymore. No point."

[dealwiththe]

"I think there can be a point to it, if you're doing it for the right reasons," Lucifer says thoughtfully. "All the stories about me - it is what it is. But I like to think I've left a positive mark on some people. Maybe a few more, as we go on."

[goty]

"Putting more good into the world than bad?" She taps the pen against the paper, not really drawing anymore, just leaving marks on its off-white surface. "Of course... you gotta. It's your job, right?"

[dealwiththe]

“No one’s holding a gun to my head and telling me I’d better do good… or else,” Lucifer says with a faint chuckle. “I try to do good because I want to. It’s my choice. If it’s my job, it’s a job I chose for myself.”

[goty]

"Yeah, yeah." Ellie puts her head down, sullen for a moment. She begins sketching the moth design again, a familiar default. "But what if your judgement's shit?"

In Seattle, it felt like she was doing the right thing.

[dealwiththe]

“Everyone does, sometimes,” Lucifer says, honest as always. “Hopefully, we have people around us to help hold each other accountable.”

[goty]

Grief is like the ocean-- no matter how well you think you've measured its shore, an unexpected storm can wreck everything. No matter how carefully you plan, at the end of the day, you're at its mercy. The cold water in Lucifer's words hits the bottom of Ellie's heart, a surprise so chilling she's silent for a minute, nursing the wound. She breathes slowly, and stares at her destroyed hand, and tries to think, but it just feels like she's drowning.

Finally, she speaks. Her voice is shaky, raw. "Yeah. Bad fuckin' luck, I guess."

[dealwiththe]

Somehow, that hit home. He doesn’t know any specifics, and it wasn’t intentional. But there it is. Well, she’s lost people, hasn’t she? Of course she has.

“The thing about luck,” he says after a moment, “is that it can change.”

[goty]

"Mine doesn't." She says it without thinking, revealing too much. Everyone dies or leaves, but they mostly die. She's going to be the only one left, eventually. When she was little, she thought she was cursed.

Now, it feels like something she deserves.

Ellie scrunches her eyes closed, taking a few slow, deep breaths. She's not gonna lose it here. It'd be so stupid.

[dealwiththe]

Oof. Suddenly, Lucifer is thinking about Cain. I’ve watched it all turn to ash, over and over and over again. He’d hated it so much that he’d closed himself off from every human feeling, and it had hollowed him out, emptied him of empathy, and in the end, even when he did love again, it had quickly become twisted and selfish.

He doesn’t see that in Ellie, though. He sees, perhaps, someone trying to be that way, because she’s in pain, but she hasn’t gone that far down the road.

Maybe being here will keep her from going further.

“Luck changes all the time. People come and go, too,” he says eventually. “The important ones leave marks on you. That can be good, even if they aren’t around anymore.”

[goty]

Ellie sees Joel's house, festooned in flowers. She'd told Maria how dumb it was, keeping a greenhouse for flowers in winter, what a waste of resources, couldn't they grow strawberries and mangoes instead? But she'd said it was important to respect beauty, and in the dark winter that took Joel, Ellie had finally understood. The knowledge would die with her, though; everyone else understood, except Joel, and now she'd never convince him. She'd never get to talk to him again. A life is squandered when you freeze it out, leave it in the ice and ignore it. She'd never fill their words with flowers.

"That's not enough." The words leak out between her teeth, like the tears trying to bud on her eyelashes.

[dealwiththe]

“It’s not?” he asks, curious but sympathetic. “The time you spent with them wasn’t worthwhile, even if it was short and ended too soon? It’s not worth admitting someone might’ve changed you, for better or worse, even if they’re gone now?”

He hesitates a moment. “Is it not worth thinking about how they’d feel about you as you are now?”

[goty]

Another long moment, recovering her cool. "That's not what you said." Her voice is thin, strained over each syllable. "Leaving marks. I'm all marks."

[dealwiththe]

“What’s the difference? We’re all marked up, by the people in our lives.” Lucifer points at the long-nosed sketch of himself. “You think I’m not? Whose initials would you leave on the moon?”

[goty]

She looks down at the sketch of Lucifer, but her memories only bring up the picture of Dina and her sister. It's better then looking Lucifer in the eye. At that moment, anything is.

She's not the only one who's lost people. It's just so hard to remember that, sometimes, when loss has been all she is for over a year.

"A guy I knew."

[dealwiththe]

“Very specific,” Lucifer deadpans. But it’s gentle. Not harsh, just trying to turn her away from darker thoughts. “I’ve known some guys, too. Did this guy have a name?”

[goty]

She rolls her shoulder, slow, trying to get her control back. It comes slowly, as if pulled down a long hallway. "Joel," she says, finally. Her eyes are dry. "What about you?"

Fair's fair, and all.

"Whose name would you write on the moon?"

[dealwiththe]

Lucifer gives her all the time she needs. He’s better at hugging than he used to be, but he’ll never be Ella Lopez, ready to hug a perfect stranger just for saying hello. Miss Lopez can get away with that kind of thing; he’s a bit more circumspect.

So he doesn’t offer physical comfort, just his presence, looking out the observatory window until she responds.

Fair is fair.

“Two names,” he says immediately, reaching up to trace them along the stars he can see. “Chloe, and Rory.” There’s a hint of sadness in his expression, perhaps, but mostly he’s just soft, gently smiling. They’re the two most important names to him, clearly.