returnjourneylogs | MINI-EVENT: RENDEZVOUS

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.

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Warden,"

Is automatic; disinterested. It isn't that Silco's been banned from attendance - but Grace indicated an absence presumed to be mutual. Well. It's nice to keep track of her for a bit.

"Though I'd prefer William," A crooked smile. He stands, extends a fallen flower - fallen from some crate, and half-crushed. It's a poor bouquet, and a far better stain for the bay floor. "Yourself?"

Aranea cocks an eye at "William" and his flower, and snorts in amusement. But she does do him a favor by whisking it out of his hand, between the gloved parts of her fingers. No direct contact.

"Aranea," she says, holding the lopsided bloom more like a cigarette than a flower. "Not fazed by all the red, huh?"

Silco examines his stained fingers briefly — flicks them together as some invisible lighter, and away.

"Could do with a bit of colour around here." The dip of his chin to the high, plain walls; stark against the Feather's sprawl. "Nothing honest stays this clean."

"Give it some time. I think I already gave one of your kids ideas." It's unabashed.

"But I was looking for a warden. Give me a tour, yeah? I'd like to see what you've got in command."

Some bridges you burn when you get to them.

"Not Gibson, I hope," He starts off, hands folding neat behind his back. "She's already at it with the —"

A gesture: He's looked up the word, enough to know it's new to more than him.

"— Emojis."

The Infirmary drifts into view. The Storage Bay. Silco doesn't pause at the doors.

"Afraid I haven't met that one. It was a boy; red hair, scrawny, looks like he could use a good nap or twenty."

She keeps pace, eyes sharp as they dart from one sign to the next. The Peregrine really is sterile, lacking the settled nature of the Feather. Even knowing it has a small crew doesn't prepare for the reality of it.

"He didn't strike me as the type to decorate with emojis." Intoned the same way, lightly mocking.

"Theon," Gets the name wrong, just to check. "I imagine he'd make use of the skull."

It's not a big ship — it isn't long before Command's in view. He pauses beside the door, propped against the wall by an elbow.

"Do you suppose it's ship-locked?" A nod to the scanner. "You are a Warden of the fleet."

She studies him out of the corner of her eye, which maybe isn't warranted because she hasn't asked for Theo's name yet, but this is the path I choose. "Theo," she echoes like an agreement, not a correction, and leaves it for examination.

At the scanner, her eyes light directly on him, eyebrow arched. "It's ship-specific, without official clearance. And," the smile on her lips is sardonic, "it'd be rude. Not many people want a stranger in their space, touching their things."

"Then I can hardly lead you here," His smile quirks in return - "In the interest of courtesy. Though manners should as like forbid an invitation to my quarters."

Take a gal to dinner first, etc.

Her smile has a little too much teeth as she turns completely towards him.

"Manners say you should stop wasting my time. If you've got an angle, spit it out. I don't have all day."

MINI-EVENT: RENDEZVOUS

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