ataraxionlogs | EVENT: DAEDALUS ▒ CORRIDORS

Oh, blimey!

[That. This is. She was on the way to her room, not to the engineering floor. How in the world did this happen?

She presses on the elevator button, over and over again. Last she heard they're still not supposed to be anywhere near that place, even with that strange woman's post on the network. Surely she would have been informed, right?]

Work, you stupid thing.

[Whyyy won't the doors just close. Oh look LET'S PRETEND YOU WERE PASSING BY AND SHE SEES YOU hello hello, stopping those doors from finally closing now.]

Hey - hey! What are you doing here?

[Attempt one: He had been trying to go to the oxygen gardens, intent on reading a book of some sort -- and quite suddenly, he was in a part of the ship where he was more accustomed to finding Combeferre. --However, it was bearable, and the sudden invitation (and warning), disturbing though it was, made him curious. Best to try and find the few people he knows are acquainted with engineering, is it not?

So Enjolras is attempting to get to Combeferre's rooms, to no avail, eventually ending in staring balefully at the elevator button.]

Merde.

[By the fourth time he finds himself at the engineering door, he's lost count of the other times. This is just as well, given the weight that his hometown superstition places on the number four, but there is enough alarming mystical detail to this situation even so. His whole skin is goosebumps and his eyebrows are beginning to ache from going up skeptically. Fuck.

William stares down the long, dark hallway. The long, dark hallway stares back at him with impressive Nietzchian gravitas. He glances left and then right. He has found the flying buttresses and excessive ceiling space pretty creepy since he got here, having come from a world where anybody with the luxury of large spaces can afford bright lights, and those who can't live in humid, mazy warrens of barricades and exposed rebar. The first two times, he turned right around. The third time, he'd seen somebody go in, made a face, and then turned around.

But you don't always have to count your failures to feel their futile weight.

This time, he walks up to the left edge of the door. For a young man occupied by a demon, he does not have much of an appetite for morbid occult terrors. Slowly, he sets his hand against the surface and then leans forward to press his ear.]

.:: GIVE ME A LIFT? ::.

Merde!

[Slamming his fist against the lift control panel, just to be reminded again that he was on the same floor he had been trying to escape for the past God-knows-how-long. Christ.

A hungry Bahorel makes a cranky Bahorel, and he was not at all happy with the way the day was beginning to turn out.]

.:: TWISTY WINDY CORRIDORS OF DOOM ::.

[Wandering down the hallways with a grumpy frown on his face, Bahorel would approach the first person whom he comes across to ask gruffly,]

Do you know how to get to the kitchens from here? I have spent the better half of this morning in circles, and have no patience for the Mademoiselle's games.

[ She isn't sure how long she's been wandering around, but she's starting to think that it's somewhere within the realm of forever.

Some point after taking off with the vague idea of getting down to engineering in order to do something - Claire still isn't sure now, wandering around what feels like backward and upside down, what that something would have been, but planning that far ahead hasn't been her strongest suit - and finding herself mixed up within the ship's corridors and ultimately unable to reach anything remotely resembling engineering, or anything else for that matter, she had decided that leaving her floor in the first place was probably one of the poorer choices she had made.

She's sure that she's been walking in circles, if not backwards and sideways and down impossibly long stretches of floor that look nothing like hers. Three times she's seen the door to engineering, the people standing outside of it, around a corner or at the end of a hallway, and started off toward it only to find herself walking in the opposite direction. Twice she's stopped and hurled curse words at locked doors that have only seemed to shrug in response to her frustration, as if saying Sorry I'm not sorry.

Around the umpteenth corner that has led to nowhere, Claire finally grows frustrated enough to crouch down and take a break to gather her thoughts, balancing her arms on bent knees, very nearly sulking at how stupidly lost she's managed to get herself. She only manages to come up with one: ]

Stupid ship.

[ The first time he starts off toward the level 25 kitchens and ends up smack in front of the double-doors to Engineering, he rolls with it. Shit happens. Haunted space ships occasionally break the laws of physics. Or psychoactive nanites convince you you've walked a couple feet in one direction when back in reality you've apparently walked a couple hundred in another. Whatever. It looks like even more of a mess in there.

He takes a left instead.

Round two has him standing cross-armed, feet shoulder-width apart, staring down the entrance like it's an errant child. He wants a sandwich, not to bake himself like a Christmas ham alongside the hero brigade. He's not even that good with mechanics.

Let's try right this time.

The third time, he turns a corner– ]

Jesus— [ –and beams himself on the door frame. The soldier takes a few steps back, hand to his temple, ] It's not going to goddamn work.

[It would be of little surprise to anyone that Sirius has never been particularly interested in engineering. There is a limit to his understanding of technology--the sole area that he excels in is motorbikes, and only because he's bothered to learn, and even then, his knowledge is limited to models pre 1976. Not exactly useful in an Engineering situation.

So why he's suddenly being repeatedly redirected to the hallways around and in Engineering (the department and floor of, that is) is anyone's guess. It's frustrating--his frustration was tempered by a bit of amusement, just because he's able to appreciate a good trick, to some extent, even when it's being played on him (to some very small extent)--but that amusement is waning very fast.

First time, he gets back to the lift, and presses the button for his floor, and comes out-- on engineering's floor again. Right. Hilarious. Second time, the doors won't even close. Third time, he thinks to Apparate--and he ends up in a hallway just inside the main doors, staring at them. When he goes out to go back to the lift, the lift isn't there any longer, and he turns around and the main doors have become the door to some cupboard.

Which is hilarious. And he laughs, once, shortly, and then Apparates again--into the cupboard, which is actually a room, which is nowhere he's ever seen before.

Hilarious. Just hilarious. Another maze to work out of, and Sirius sighs and starts off to the left. The lift was to the left, before. It could be anywhere now, but he has to make some decision, one way or the other.

He burns marks on the wall with his wand as he goes, a good way to mark where he's been. There's other people--he can hear footsteps, sometimes--or perhaps that's his imagination, but he doubles his steps anyways, trying to catch up. The hallway is far too long, and he doesn't come across any of the marks that he's made as he goes. Of course he doesn't. That's the bloody ship for you.]

[Between learning that Casey had left this jump too, this so wasn't her month at all and for the past few hours or however long it had actually been, Sarah found herself still wandering around the halls. She was just on her way back to her room and despite knowing the way back like the back of her hand, she found herself either ending up on the wrong floor or in other places of the ship that were practically the in the opposite direction of where she wanted to go.

She felt like she was going in circles at this point despite any alternate directions she took as she ended up right in front of engineering for maybe the umpteenth time by now] Wait, this floor again? [She frowns, looking confused] That can't be right though.

[Even before the ship started redirecting her, Galadriel walked the corridors with a cautious air, one hand forever hovering near the hilt of the sword at her hip. Now, however, there's something even more ominous about the halls.

Galadriel does not get lost. She simply doesn't. Certainly not on the way to places as familiar as the kitchens or the Oxygen Gardens. Yet here she is, in some dark, unknown spot in the ship, having passed the doors to Engineering she doesn't know how many times. It doesn't make sense. It's wrong- the whole thing feels wrong and that has her on edge.

She's straining every one of her senses and, as a result, she's aware of almost anyone approaching long before they come into view. So if you round a corner and find some very blue eyes staring intently in your direction? Sorry, she's just a bit unnerved.]

[Not even moments after heading on her way to the Oxygen Gardens with a few items in hands, Emily found herself to be completely lost as she kept walking further down the hallways.

She could have sworn she was going the right way but as it turned out, that wasn't exactly the case here even with the lifts which caused her to suspect it was something up with the ship as usual. Normally she would have had more patience about this but she was trying her best to not let the frustration get to her as she tried to turn back around in hopes of heading the right direction] There has to be some other way there.

Edited 2014-02-24 03:26 (UTC)

[It wasn't the first time that Jay had gotten lost in the hallways on the ship, since he remembers a time where it happened before which at the time led to the Genetics Department. This time seemed no different other than how it he kept being redirected all over the place except for his intended location.

He had no idea how long he'd been wandering around but given how long it felt like, he just stays put for a moment not too far away from the lifts trying to figure out what his next best course of action would be]

( in retrospect, ilde is pretty sure that she could've probably got away with just hiding in her now-temperate-if-down-one-mirror quarters in her dressing gown until things had died down, actually. she could've just kept her comm on audio or text, like a normal person who doesn't have to skype all the time when a phonecall is perfectly fucking serviceable, daddy, there's no one here i don't want you to see i just can't be bothered getting dressed for the internet. or whatever. maybe she could just not talk to anyone, although she did agree with that guy - aidan - about buddies, so...she should probably have some of those.

she pictures grant's face if she informed him that they are now buddies, like a pair of primary schoolers on a field trip, and it brightens the interminable trek to Anywhere But Engineering that her laundry excursion has, aggravatingly and more than a little frighteningly, turned into. her cardigan doesn't feel like sufficient protection against ... whatever she might need protecting from, even if it does serve its purpose as 'improvised bum-covering in absence of clean pajamas and a refusal to wear the jumpsuit'. probably nothing would. she considers whether or not she prefers her rescuers clothed or unclothed, because if she pretends in her head that she isn't taking this seriously, maybe she'll stop choking on her own heartbeat every time the hallway stops being the hallway she walked into. )

day one.

[All he wants to do is get to work. That's it. That's really it. Even the temperature in the Gardens doesn't put a damper on his love of the job and certainly not his need to be productive. It's too goddamn early to be dealing with anything more than sleepily jabbing the lift button with cooling coffee in his other hand - though "goddamn early" is relative, here, like everything else about the ship seems to be.

In this case "goddamn early" is about 9:30 ship time and hey, for him it is early. Not a morning person, this guy, not when he doesn't have to be. So when the lift doors open and he steps out in front of engineering, all he does is blink and frown and turn around in order to poke at the button in a futile effort to get the doors to open again.

Over and over. While yawning into his coffee thermos.

He'll figure out that the doors aren't gonna open... er... eventually. Maybe once the coffee kicks in.]

night one.

[An exasperated groan is followed by his low muttering of "I hope you get smallpox and die," which is supposed to be directed at the ship, or Smiley, or the break in the laws of physics, or the Engineering doors, or whatever the hell is keeping him from getting from point A to point B in an efficient manner.

Every time he turns down a hallway that he knows is the right direction, it turns into - surprise, surprise - another way to get to Engineering. And every time the insults get more creative.]

day two+

[By the second day of this cancer-licking bullshit Netherlands has decided that he's had enough of the corridors and is going to move into the Gardens for the foreseeable future. Which means, of course, that he ends up stuck in front of Engineering with a sack of supplies and a small lop rabbit in tow, for -

well over a day, if the calendar on his comms is to be believed.

After a few hours of trying to leave only to circle back to the start he sits down against a wall and sulkily messes around on his comms, cigarette jammed in his mouth, while his rabbit sleeps on his outstretched legs. Eventually he comes up with a schedule - rest two hours, try to leave for two hours, repeat until tired then sleep for three hours.

Good thing he brought a fuckton of cigarettes and hay along for the trip.]

---

ooc - plot comment is here if you want a personalized insult or want to hash out anything c:

Edited 2014-02-25 15:48 (UTC)

[There is much held in tension here. Bran should not leave his room, if the ship is shifting its corridors again, trapping people--but he knows that Arya will go. As soon as he hears that engineering is the problem, he knows that she will be there--if it were anywhere else, she still might go, but this is certain. And she will have Nymeria with her--

But Bran still wishes that he could be older, and stronger. That he was not a cripple, and did not even need his robotic legs--but was trained in combat, enough so that he could go with Arya and help her, and keep her safe. She would be angry with him for thinking such thoughts of her, but he cannot help it.

And if the ship is acting strangely, then Summer ought to stay by his side. Robb and Jon and Mother would all say as much--even Arya would insist it--but Bran cannot think of his sister nearly alone in the ship. So he takes Summer's face in his hands and commands him: find Arya, and protect her. And then he sends his direwolf into the corridors, and when Summer is far enough away--

It is almost easy, now, to slip into Summer's skin, like wearing a well-worn boot or a cloak made to fit just him. All at once, the world blooms into a wolf's senses--the queer dead smell of the air, the life humming in the walls and in the floors and in the ceilings, too--and the feeling of running, on four good legs, so swift it is nearly like flying. He thinks of his sister, and the smell of her--and the wolf-girl, too, and her smell--and he goes, he runs.

He reaches the hallways before long. They twist, and turn, and make little sense, but the smell of the girl and his sister are both here, criss-crossed and twisted among so many other scents. And there is someone ahead, someone familiar. Not sister, but someone. Summer slows to a trot, his nose working at the air, his ears pricked.]

corridors

[there is at least one person traversing the corridors near engineering that doesn't seem nearly so panicked and angry. a mite twitchy, perhaps, but mairon doesn't look to be in a hurry to go anywhere. meandering like a stray river he makes his way through the halls, looking for lostlings to keep company.

a stray river behind which shadows and darkness seem to follow, if only briefly. trick of the light, perhaps. stress. surely.]

outside engineering

[he lingers outside, watching the doors with a sense of curiosity. every now and then he reaches out, fingers outstretched towards the doors that had earlier been scorching hot and warped by heat. and at length they curl back into the palm of his hand, stepping away with a frown.

sauron does not like being enticed, you see. and mairon likes it even less so.]

((ooc: no plotting comment because i'm a lazy bum but mairon will ultimately not be entering engineering!! any other shenanigans completely welcome.))

It seems like it never fails. No matter how many times she tries to go to the kitchens for a snack, or go to the gardens for a breather, or go to work, she ends up near Engineering. It's like the ship suddenly has a mind of its own (has it always?) and now she seems faced with the impossibility of it all. It's just... so...

So much like Silent Hill.

Just like now, back then whatever she tried to do that town would seem to mold around her, to change to get her to do what it wanted. Her free will had been an illusion, and she'd come to see that it wouldn't let her be until she did what it wanted. Now, she's in the corridors near Engineering, frustrated and angry and none too pleasant.

"Alright, you fucking ship. I'll play your sick little game."

poppy chadwick, ota

Enjolras, ota!

william tsang | corridor/door | +ota

bahorel | ota

claire bennet | corridors

winter soldier | ota

sirius black || ota