ataraxionlogs | ▒ THE CREW QUARTERS

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▒ THE CREW QUARTERS

CHARACTERS: Cassandra Anderson (

mindtricks), William Tsang (

dogbane), Steve Rogers (

priceoffreedom), Bucky Barnes (

lostsoldier) & Clara Oswald (

cliver)
LOCATION: The Crew Quarters
WARNINGS: A vague sense of creeping unease
SUMMARY: Exploration of the Crew Quarters in an attempt to find and retrieve Charlotte Daniau
NOTES: Setting GMing will be done through Charlotte's journal either every 6 comments or when actions require environmental details. If I've failed to touch on a detail or aspect you need, please just PM this journal!

[From the outside the door to the Crew Quarters looks much like any other main area door on the ship: somehow completely benign and yet intimidating at the same time, and more than likely locked closed. Something has clearly changed here, though, as flagging your arm over the control panel doesn't result in the usual access error appearing on your communications device - instead, the doors simply open.

The corridor beyond appears empty but poorly lit. The heavy silence is enough to cause a creeping sensation to crawl up your spine, and as you step inside you're almost sure there's the sound of something moving deeper inside. It might just be the systems whirring to life, though, as the corridor seems to react to your presence, and emergency lighting begins to power along the length of the corridor, bathing the area in a low red glow.

There are doors set a fair distance apart along both sides of the corridor, familiar in being similar to those in the Passenger Quarters, and they stretch on far enough into the distance that you can imagine they're close to the same amount, too. There's an air of neglect and disuse, almost as if it could be considered dusty for being closed up tight for so long - but the roombas have to have been getting in here, right?]

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[ The soldier shoots William a patient sidelong glance — an act, because there's actually nothing wrong with trying to calm Charolotte down, except that it's not getting them anywhere fast enough, and that means it's time for a tactic change. The look he settled on Charlotte next is frank. ]

You're right. We don't know shit.

[ He comes to a stop at the edge of striking distance from her, hands at his sides, boots still carefully poised but doing his best to let the tension drop from the rest of his body. If you're calm, they're calm, isn't fool-proof, but it's worth a shot. ]

So why don't you tell us before we do something stupid. What did Joe take you to?

[The two different approaches are contrasting enough that for a second Charlotte is evidently confused between them, attention cutting sharply from one man to the other and back again, brief flickers of her gaze to the others.

It's the question that centres her. Her eyes settle on him, but they're distant, wide with fear as she's drawn into recollecting an answer.]

It-- I couldn't look at it. It was like a shadow, a shadow where a person should be, and it hurt my eyes, my head...

[She shakes her head, as if some attempt to break loose from a sensation she can still feel. Her grip has slackened slightly on the knife, arm not so rigidly braced for defence. Her mind's elsewhere, expression creased in dismay, horror.]

He talked to it like a person, and he was so angry, but then-- [She breaks into silence, mouth open on an unsounded breath, searching for words.] It took him. It just pulled him apart and took him.

[ anderson wishes she could read charlotte's mind just so that she would have more than her words to go on as regards this shadow in place of a person, and at the same time, the horror and dismay in her expression and tone are very real and for a moment, anderson is almost glad that her mutation doesn't seem to work on charlotte.

then the rest of charlotte's words hit her and while there's no outside indication to it, while she no longer knows what to make of joe, she'd liked him before and to hear that he's-- gone? that hurts, before anderson pushes it down.

took him. she doesn't know what that means, not really, but charlotte is clearly terrified that the shadow will find her. it seems to be a sentient being, or appear as one: joe talked to it, charlotte thinks it will independently find her.

anderson understands fear, but she also understands necessity, and the latter has always trumped the former for her. ] I'm sorry he took you, Charlotte, and I understand you're scared even though we don't know the shadow yet. But it's almost time for the jump. Please come back to the medbay with us.

[Steve turns to the man who is and isn't Bucky and gives him a look - one that clearly says not helping - and then back to Charlotte, listening to what she has to say. Steve has no doubts she's telling the truth, but the truth in these scenarios isn't always as straightforward as people think.]

Listen. If you want, we can find someone who can be with you all the time. Someone who will act as a bodyguard. But we should go back before the Jump, otherwise we're all going to be just as dead.

[Because her shadow might kill them, but being out of the pods during Jump definitely will.]

[The insistent reminder of the jump, of them trying to get her out of here pulls her awareness back to herself. Her expression steels, mouth set hard and stubborn even as desperation still lingers in her eyes.]

The jump would be a better way to die.

We, [William doesn't really want to get sucked into this ill-timed discussion, hence his stubborn flipperhandsing about the Jump and the pods and the boring logistics of approximately-monthly survival aboard the Tranquility, but he can't help himself. Something about the way Charlotte looks, as well as the black terror that pervades the coarse sketch of the story she tells.

He might even be slightly concerned that the chatty, eviscerating shadow creature is still around here. In which case it is, in fact, a somewhat more immediate threat than the Jump.

Fortunately, he thinks better than to say that out loud. Cassandra hears the flicker of worry, the moment before William continues, unevenly,] We-- um. We heard all that, on the network. Joe was telling off the homicidal shadow about faffing around with its 'pets' and its 'toys.' Which-- well we've heard of manticores and nasty tech. It was fucked up terrifying. Probably reminds you of whatever happened to that-- [he is so terrible at names, but perhaps Cassandra will remember the name that Charlotte entreated, cycles ago.] --that bloke. But that's why we need you. You shared this with us; you fucking warned us. You been in medical. You been helping, fighting the ship, healing us.

If you'll just do it a little longer. If you'll hold onto that, I think we want the same shit. [OR NOT

or maybe they aren't in touch with their thoughts

in which case blunt head trauma will put an end to this argument, but whoever's in charge of that isn't William, so he'll be talking through.]

[The silence stretches for a long moment after William stops talking. Nothing in Charlotte seems to indicate any give, any real reaction at all, still tautly defensive, agitation and fear in the lines of her body. But as her gaze darts over each of them, some glimmer of consideration seems to filter into her expression, the edge of the knife dipping a little.]

You're problems too.

[She all but blurts it out, like something suddenly remembered, knowing the importance but maybe not knowing why, looking at their faces as if she might see the answer there.]

You weren't at the beginning. That's what he was saying. [The knife lowers further.] Something changed, and it's getting worse, and it's because of you.

[Steve takes note of that - both the words and the dipping knife - but he stays where he is. There's no reason to keep her on edge like this. If she's showing signs of relaxing, well, it's better to let that happen.]

Do you know how to fix it?

[No, he thinks. She probably doesn't. But that's all right, too.]

–Or make it worse? [ he asks, not solely to be contrary. ]

If, say, we don't mind being problems.

[ If they're pissing off whoever's behind all this, maybe they're doing something right.

If she is too, then maybe William's right; maybe they can work together. ]

You don't want to fix it. [Certain, an edge of something stronger in her voice.] What they wanted-- whatever they wanted, you don't want it.

[A pause, again, and her mouth tugs thin in frustration before she shakes her head.]

But I don't know. I don't know how.

What did they want?

[ maybe it'll tell them what they're up against, why things are happening. maybe it'll give them a chance to counteract it, to be more of a problem than they've been until now, as the soldier suggested.

she notes the past tense in charlotte's statement, too. ]

[Everybody else is making appropriate (or appropriately inappropriate, thanks Bucky) proposals and asking appropriate questions. For once, William spares everybody inappropriate questions, opting instead to twist his head back and keep an eye on their surroundings. Should any cornea-scarring shadow-figures emerge and start incomprehensible conversations or person-liquefying practices, he wants to know about it as soon as possible.

And if people start comming madly about the Jump coming up-- well, he wouldn't want to miss the call ringing in, either.

He does have an ear on Charlotte still, though. He wants to know.]

I don't know.

[There's frustration in it, short and sharp for a moment. The knife finally lowers the rest of the way, arm slack at her side, but it's like a loss of will, something in her posture crumpling inwards slightly.]

What happened to us, maybe. None of you-- you've stayed together.

[Why hadn't they been able to do that? They'd been trained, specially selected for the voyage, but all that was left was memories of carnage and echoing mysteries obscuring the rest. She shakes her head, feeling defeated.]

I don't know, maybe that's it.

We stayed together, and you guys -- the original crew, you tore each other apart.

[ It's said gently, as much as such a thing can be, without judgment and maybe even with some sympathy, but he's not here to mince words. He remembers the shared memories. Matine and Schue. Faces like oil, someone had said, talking about dead mothers and white doors, just like they'd seen in the hallways. (Only they hadn't all gone through.) He remembers, but he knows how easy memory is to fool; he wants to be sure. ]

[This is all well and good, and Steve understands staying together well enough, and-

-he really just wants this to end. He really just wants everyone to be back safe for the Jump.]

We're managing.

[He goes quiet, again, for a moment.]

We're managing and we need this kind of information to do more than that.

We ain't going to tear you apart, then.

[William is so boring in his objectives and conversational topics of preference, isn't he. Go back to the tubes, get ready for the Jump, don't get eaten by cornea-burning shadow figures who communicate with incoherent shrieks. Someday he'll add something to the adventure by buying into the intrigues et cetera. For now, though,] Sounds like we're your best bet. Ain't we? The power of our fucking kumbaya's been keeping it off. Possibly also some combination of our obscure and varied superpowers.

Ergo, you should absolutely get in the tubes with us. [He glances at the other men, then at Cassandra. Fleetingly. Back to Charlotte. But what's the harm of him talking about leaving, though. Worst comes to worst, the woman knows somebody gives a fuck whether or not intergalactic travel velocity turns her into jelly.] It's a long walk. We can talk on the way. If you stand between these two giant handsome blokes, they would absolutely, [get liquefied first,] protect you from the mysterious forces at play.

We all would.

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▒ THE CREW QUARTERS

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