ataraxionlogs | THE CRASH

THE CRASH

CHARACTERS: Any and all.
LOCATION: Medical and beyond.
WARNINGS: Violence, implied (and possibly explicit) nakedness.
SUMMARY: Arrival in the crashed Tranquility

W E L C O M E
You wake up, alone in the dark. There's a breathing tube jammed down your trachea, and you're suspended in a tube of clear blue fluid. Through the fog you can see shadows of movement, the muted sound of alarms crying. Upon registering your level of consciousness, the gravity couch drains the fluid surrounding you and retracts the breathing apparatus; the doors in front of you open, and you're suddenly dropped several feet onto the opposite wall.

The impact is painful, winds you, and it takes several seconds to overcome and persuade uncooperative limbs to move. You barely have the time for it. All around you is chaos: the sirens of alarms are shrieking in your ears, drowning out the cries of confusion from the people awakening around you, trapped in their gravity couches or stumbling through the wreckage. Louder than that is a deep rumbling, coming from somewhere farther away, vibrating through the metal underneath you. It's hard to make out much of anything in the dim red light, but you catch sight of a sprawl of garbled black on your forearm and wonder--

Who are you? How did you get here?

A drip lands on your cheek. Another. You look up as a flash of light illuminates a rend in the outer wall high above you, a steadily increasing fall of raindrops showering through. Another rumble rolls through the wreckage around you, and you pull weak, unsteady legs underneath you, rising to a shaky stand.

M E D I C A L
There's a shout, nearby, and your attention turns from the hole high in the wall to the room around you. Standing sideways, the smooth doors of gravity couches under your feet, fallen wreckage and debris making obstacles in your path. But there are others here, climbing through it as best they can, or trapped inside their gravity couches, injured, or worse. You step over the body of a man in a jumpsuit, venturing further into the gloom of red. The shout comes again. Someone might need your help. Or they might have answers about what happened here.

O U T S I D E
It takes all the strength you have to climb up through the fallen structural beams and hanging cabling, metal slipping wet beneath your fingers and feet. Eventually you emerge, and in another flash of bright light realise you stand on the shell of some colossal structure, the shadows of dense jungle all around you. The night sky above is a violent flux of colors, a dense, roiling tower of cloud crawling with lightning as if on fire, thunder booming again and again as the deluge pours down. In the brief flashes of light you start to notice figures, further away, scattered across the shell. Dressed in dark jumpsuits, their shouts are drowned out by the storm, but their struggles are evident; lashing out, grappling, fighting each other for their lives.

There's a sound behind you, and as you turn one lunges towards you, a jagged shaft of metal in his hand. His eyes are wide, teeth bared, and as you stagger back he yells something, coming for you again: "You did this!"

N O T E S
Venturing through the medbay will discover the lockers and main bay, all heavily damaged. Characters will likely be able to salvage some belongings from the destroyed lockers - otherwise they will be able to find jumpsuits and other standard clothing in the wreckage.
The alarms will cut after two hours, a which point a looping audio message telling passengers to make their way to the blue lifts will be audible. The lifts, if investigated, will be missing, leaving only empty elevator shafts.
The nexus of the strange superstorm will disperse out into colorful clouds after approximately half an hour, at which point rainfall will ease to something less torrential. The storm will pass entirely after five hours. Dawn will come two hours after this.
The Tranquility's original crew members can be found amongst player characters, either in medical or outside of the ship already. They will similarly be suffering from memory loss, but worse than that, a small number of them will be extremely violent in attacking player characters, other crew, or even harming themselves.

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Ailanne holds up his hands in a gesture of peace, attempting to calm the situation down before he ends up earning a fist to his jaw. Because, again, he doesn't know if he might know this guy or not. He should probably hope he doesn't, if the guy actually did kill someone... but death doesn't really bother him. Murder doesn't sit sickly in his stomach the way Ailanne sort of expects it should.

"We're all jackasses sometimes." Because he can't resist: "Likely you're one more than others, but hey."

A shrug.

"If you're so concerned about it, the best place to look is back inside. I'll help you. How possibly dead are we talking? Minutes for a find and rescue? Hours?"

Firo pouts, not bothering to hold back a frustrated sigh. "Yeah, thanks, pal. I think that's about the one thing I know here."

"Well, she... I--" It makes his heart clench like it's going to break and his stomach turn, but he supposes he has to own up to it. "...I wanted her to suffer. So there's probably a while. Not exactly an hour, but more than a few minutes."

"Either way, it's doin' her no good to stand around! So come on!" He already started back to the ship, looking over his shoulder at the guy to make sure he's doing the same.

Ailanne's eyes narrow a fraction, sizing up the other man with a little more wariness at the admission. He still doesn't feel the revulsion that, logically, he thinks is due. It's just a fact to him. Like oh, look, the weather is fatesawful. But minus the scowling distaste at being soaked to the bone.

Regardless, the other guy is already starting back to the wreckage, determined to apparently rectify his mistakes, so Ailanne shrugs and falls into step beside him.

"Was she a friend of yours? You know. Before you decided she needed to suffer." He puts on an innocent enough expression, but makes sure to keep light on his feet in case he needs to dodge a swipe.

That should be a simple question to answer--either you like a person or you don't, he's pretty sure.

"I don't know. I made her, but--" But the thought of claiming that she's like family when he tried to kill her is revolting to him.

At the same time, he can't think of her face without feeling a certain warmth and fondness. And a faint pinkness creeps into his cheeks without him noticing.

He growls as he moves even faster. "...If we were friends, she sure as hell deserves a lot better."

Ailanne notes the warm tinge to Firo's cheeks and he lifts an eyebrow. Something is obviously not adding up, but he has so many missing spaces where memories should be, that he can't be sure this is weird enough for him to really worry about. Which means he's just going to go with it.

Possibly while vaguely teasing the other guy. That at least is making Ailanne feel better about the strangeness of today.

"Sure she does," Ai replies easily, offering a devil-may-care shrug. "But the fact still remains that you're the one playing her knight in armor, mm? Maybe she'll be grateful~ and you two can make up."

The muscles in Firo's shoulders bunch together at said teasing. Suddenly, he feels even more incentive to reach the ship. It looms before them, rather close, but now there's the problem of figuring out the path to get up... It seems he'll have to endure a while more.

He shakes his head wildly, even slowing down so he can properly look back at his traveling companion. "I-I'm not her knight or a-anything!"

His steps are heavier, like a toddler stomping around, when he starts forward. "A-and she shouldn't make up just for that!"

That reaction seals it.

Ailanne grins like the cat who ate the canary as Firo's feelings become more obvious. Even with the holes in his memory, he can see where this sort of reaction normally stems from. He's light on his feet as he moves forward, clasping his hands behind his back as he makes a point to walk beside Firo again.

"She shouldn't, but you want~ her~ to~, don't you?" He steps forward to try to take the lead, eyeing the wreck and searching for handholds even as he lifts his voice to keep throwing back goading comments toward his companion. "I mean, it's not like you're going to say no if she wants to think of you as her knight, mm? Whatever the lady wants, isn't it?"

Never mind that the lady in question is apparently off dying somewhere. It's still funny.

Firo can't move much faster without breaking into a run, so he resigns himself to this guy hanging around and seeing how scarlet his face is. "Wh--That's not why I'm doin' this, pal." He juts out his jaw before turning around and reaching for a jutting piece of metal on the ship's side. It should be enough to support his weight.

With his nerves all shot from the teasing, though, he's almost afraid he won't be able to maintain his grip. So he doesn't pull himself up yet and just cringes against the ship. "S-she can do whatever she wants. I can't make her feel anything."

That goes two ways, of course. He can't make her like him, but he also can't keep her from being thankful if that's how she wants...

"You might not have been able to make her feel anything." Ailanne allows the unsaid comment to stew there for a moment as he reaches for the first handhold.

Hoisting himself up and reach for another, barely visible indent for his fingers to slide into feels natural. Now that whatever was wrong with him when he first woke up in that tube is wearing off, he can feel the strength in his muscles. Clearly, he's not from any sort of sedentary lifestyle. Once he's sure he's out of range of any flying fists, he peers back over his shoulder and down toward wherever Firo might be.

"Doesn't mean she hasn't made you feel something, mm?"

Firo starts climbing soon after, leaving some distance between them. The comments have him hoping a bit the guy will fall and he doesn't want him falling on him.

It seems like a fruitless wish, though, which he should probably be grateful for--he is asking for the man's help, anyway.

At the follow-up question, he flinches. Quickly, though, he scowls back, the effect somewhat ruined by how much he blushes. "You know who's makin' me feel somethin'? 'Cause you're doin' a pretty good job a' pissin' me off."

Nerve after nerve. It seems that if nothing else, Ailanne has found his calling -- being a complete and utter ass to those around him the moment they show any sign of weakness. He contents himself this time with simply grinning and focusing on the climb up. There's no sense pushing the other guy too far. Not yet, anyway.

The actual climb is a little more difficult the further they go. While most of his strength has returned, there's still a little wobble to his muscles the more they're pushed. It's hard to completely shake off the mild sickness that seems to hang onto him since the moment he fell from that tube.

Finally, he pulls himself up, his climb finished, and takes a moment to stretch his arms over his head.

"Mm, I might piss you off, but I'm probably useful. Where do you want to go look first?"

Firo clambers over the edge a moment after the other guy. As he recovers his strength, he can't resist the urge to look back over the area they came from. Just trees and ground--wilderness that he's pretty sure is foreign to him.

He grits his teeth when the man starts talking again--because it's true. Much as he'd like to have a go at tossing him off the side of this hunk of metal--though he has a feeling this is the kind of person who'd put up a fight--he needs the help.

He rests his hands on his hips and looks off to the side as he thinks. "It was somewhere dark. And there was fire. I think... it looked almost like a normal street, though, with tall walls all around it."

Now that he's back at the ship, he wonders if it could even hold a place like that. But this is the only place that looks even vaguely like civilization to him. So she must be here, right? If she's anywhere.

Ailanne's eyebrows furrow for a moment at the description as he glances back toward where he knows the gash leading into the metal behemoth's underbelly waits. The sounds from before -- alarms, though he's unfamiliar with an alarm that makes that sort of sound and can't put a name to them -- were distracting enough that he isn't sure that there was or was not a fire down below. He still remembers suddenly feeling the air currents -- following them out of the darkness and finding the way to the surface.

Reversing that trek seems moronic. Yet here he is.

"Mm, well it's dark inside, isn't it? I haven't seen a normal street since I woke up, but..."

He turns to look into the distance, taking in the jungle view during the brief spaces of illumination caused by the heat lightning. Nothing out that way seems likely to support a road or walls. He feels a faint tug at his senses, though. The ghost of a memory or a feeling telling him that the trees will be more like home than the metal disaster his feet are planted on now.

"Let's make it a question game since your memory is shot to hell," Ailanne decides suddenly, propping a hand on his own hip. "Sky or no sky? Not much of a point looking inside if your damsel it out there in the mud."

Agreeing that that is a good idea (which it is) is too much for Firo, so he just grumbles while nodding his head.

Firo rolls his eyes, like Ailanne's asked a ridiculous question. "I wasn't lookin' at the sky." He pauses, looks at the ground, and momentarily can't keep a look of despair from flickering into his eyes. "...but there was open sky, I think."

There's no hope in his voice, just a businesslike tone, really. He's being forced to wonder if this is fruitless, but he doesn't want to. "...There any buildings or anything on the other side a' this hunk a' junk?"

"Nope."

Succinct and to the point. Ailanne doesn't waste any breath trying to pretty it up or make the other guy feel better, even if this is someone that he wants to help and his memories are just being a jackass about letting him know for sure. Nevertheless, he sighs and scans the jungle again. Somewhere in this Fates' forsaken place is this guy's girlfriend, and he supposes he should at least try to help Firo find her -- just in case he is supposed to be friends later.

"The trees are probably blocking a lot of shit. If you think it was out in the open, we'd better head past the tree line."

His shoulders sag--has he just been wasting time coming here? That he's imposed on this person he might not even know doesn't bother him, but the thought of leaving Ennis hurting is agony. "Yeah... I mean, not exactly open with all the buildings everywhere, but it definitely wasn't in a big metal box."

Now that he's actually looking over the land, he's struck by the concern that this strange city alley isn't actually here. But then

Ailanne's mouth twitches down into a frown. He's wondering about this guy's state of mind a little. As far as he can see, there isn't another sign of civilization past this... what it is.

He knocks his heel back against the metal of the hull as he thinks.

In the end... this hunk of junk must have come from somewhere, right?

"Well, your call, friend."

He gives a shrug. It's not going to be on his head if the incorrect choice is made. Even though it wouldn't really bother him if it was.

Firo's realizing how stupid this plan is now that he speaks to someone about it. But instead of making him want to stop, it makes him self-conscious and defensive. "I can't just give up if she might be out there somewhere."

Though he doesn't remember it now, this is the guy who took off running with no direction in search of an allegedly kidnapped friend. Effective or not, Firo tends to feel that he just has to do something.

He growls and makes for the side they just climbed up. "We'll go through the trees, then."

"You could. It makes you more of a dick than you already are, but it's an option."

Ailanne gives another flippant shrug, then glances to the side, sizing up Firo's determination. If this guy wants to keep pushing his luck, Ai's going to be right there making an ass out of himself the entire way. It isn't like he knows anything better to do, memories faded out like smoke like they are.

He glances over the side, staring at the long climb down.

Something tells him to just jump. He takes three quick steps forward before sudden, panicked common sense pulls him up short.

Jumping is suicide.

He wavers a moment, too near the edge.

Takes a step back.

"Stop talking and move, then," he decides, trying to cover up that.... moment. Whatever it was.

Ailanne swings himself around and drops over the side, scaling down as easily as he made his way up. The jungle will be his next stop.

Edited 2015-10-05 05:08 (UTC)

Firo's close behind, this time not bothering to keep his distance. Ennis's time could be running out, if she's here. If. Whether he'd even find her in time to help her is another big if and the reason that he's rushing ahead without really thinking much about this.

There's no alley here, a voice in the back of his head almost dares to whisper. He ignores it as he climbs down the side--though in the interest of haste, his approach is more akin to throwing himself down.

"You think I'm the dick here? You never looked in a mirror, eh?"

He barely pauses when they get to the ground, heading straight for the trees. Does he know which way to go? No. He just chooses a random direction.

"When I want to remind myself what perfection~ looks like."

Ailanne actually isn't that vain (just close to it), but those are the first words that snap back. He follows it up with a you know it shrug, gesturing to himself at the end of the motion.

As much of an ass as he's being, though, he is keeping an eye out for any signs of manmade roads when they start pushing through the trees. Ai doesn't know what he really has invested in this exercise, but he isn't going to half-ass it. His gaze drifts up, taking in how knit together the trees are further in. There are plenty of limbs higher up.

It's at least an idea. For when they hit a point where they need to give up.

"You're the dick with the existential crisis. I'll accept that I'm an ass. The ass helping you," Ailanne adds as he cuts a glance toward Firo. Speaking of a crisis... "Mm, tell me now: how much do I need to worry about you trying to stab me next if we can't find your girlfriend in time?"

Firo stifles a groan of un-amusement and keeps walking, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He doesn't even turn at the question at first.

"If we find her, then you don't hafta worry about it."

Firo shoots a look back, the frown fierce on his face. Much as he wants to pretend to be cool and unruffled... He's very ruffled and he can't just leave it there. "I'm not gonna stab somebody just for the hell of it, you know. And I wouldn't dirty my knife with you."

The phrase comes naturally to him, somehow, though he can't recall where it's from. Damn it, does he say that a lot? Is he some kind of crazy murderer normally? It's not just the heat of the day that has some sweat dripping down his back now.

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THE CRASH

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so sorry for the delay. Week from hell D:

No need to apologize at all! Take your time <3

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Feel free to not reply if you don't want to!

I'm so sorry, I have no idea why I didn't notice that I didn't finish that last sentence

I left a word half written, too. I think we're both tired!

/high five, but all slow and tired-like

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