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Futuristic 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕣 ★ ✩ Sci Fi / Space Opera (Full!)

Sub Genres
Adventure, Cyberpunk, Mystery, Platonic, Romance



Interaction: Nova ( Ghoulina Ghoulina )

W.I.I. ended up proving a perfect place for 44 to put up her feet and relax. After a decade of hiding out and waiting for Deri to sort itself out after she was complicit in the overthrowing of her home planet's government, and killing everyone in left in line to rule in the new world order the Forces of Deri tried to install, her skills had only honed themselves further. She decided, on the eve of her 30's, enough was enough. No matter what political state Deri was in, enough time had passed that she was no longer a priority. And their minimal outreach meant there was slim chances of some plucky bounty hunter tracking her down, or of her being happened upon by a particularly observant tourist. Yes, the life of a spacer was the one for her, only at home among the stars. It was a damn good thing W.I.I. wasn't in the habit of asking too many questions about their potential employees when they smelled value, and it was value 44 delivered.

Some 30-odd years later, she had "graduated" from five crews, this latest stint on board the Sunshine 5 being her sixth time setting foot on board a new ship. Crews like these were hardly starship-class, and seldom lasted longer than a few years. They were glorified mailmen, so only once out of two-dozen times did their stories end in a blaze of glory like the stories often said. Usually, they either slipped up and earned a bad reputation, forcing them to start flying under a new flag, or people just started leaving to take better opportunities, leaving their gunsmith alone in the dust. 44 was much wiser now, but her youth left a distaste for war in her mouth. Work like this occasionally involved the odd battle, but it was never driven by some big agenda. W.I.I.'s crews were just impartial couriers. Nothing more. And that was enough for her to sleep at night.

Walking down the hanger, 44 occasionally peered behind her to make sure her hover-ons hadn't caught themselves on some sharp corner, while also keeping a sharp eye out for her new crewmates. By the third time she'd done this song-and-dance, she learned of an easy trick to finding her way. Just to look around for a group of people introducing themselves. Adorable. But to a vet like her, there was only one person that she cared about knowing who she was off the get-go. Surely, there would be chances to get to know each other later.

44 assumed that little gathering was going to be her landmark, but it ended up being the ship itself that did the trick. She always assumed the corporations only handed out ships that had some modicum of professionalism to their aesthetics, but this vessel was truly deserving of its name. Perhaps it was also the number in its designation, or simply her adoration for more flamboyant styles, but she found the Sunshine 5 downright stylish. The flair of a corvette-class vessel, with the size of a small freighter? What was there not to love? Something told 44 that her experiences to come would be quite special, indeed. Already sold on the vessel, it was the crew she was yet to be impressed by. A mountainous suit of armor and an android, several mousy-lookng types that were surely the brains of the crew, a tall, yet stocky elephant who on first glance seemed like they'd be more at home making audiences gush over their innocent features, and finally, the only woman who's opinion among them mattered right then. 44 scooted (and shoved) her way between them all, until she was at arms length from her new boss. Her mobile luggage followed behind her, and promptly parked themselves beside her feet once she stopped walking.

"Captain Udonta. I'm 44. Name, not my age. Pick a hand and shake it, because uh, it looks like your crew's already weaseling their way on board."


Tactical Operations Meido
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Safehouse ~

Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Dock worker outfit


Val'sharra bowed in grandiose fashion. "Why thank you my dear AI, that's quite charitable of you. And good heavens no, I would rather much prefer to stay with this ship for some time. The combination of crew and accoutrements are... ideal for one such as myself. And dare I say, it may turn out that our interests are aligned on more than a few items, so I very much look forward to working by your side. Or front. Or whichever facing you would consider our current arrangement." She straightened back up from her bow to turn in place at the sound of the hatch opening, peering through the dimness of her current environs at the beam of light that shone down from above. "My my my, you certainly do know how to make me feel like I'm at home; far be it from me to decline such hospitality." With a grunt and a shove, the Felstari began slowly towing the gravsled and its load through the grimy service corridor in a a half walk, half crawl through the moderately confined space. Finally, at the end of the passage, she clambering up the industrial steel ladder, hauling the carrier upwards behind her before closing the panel with a metallic CLACK.

The hallway, unlike the service corridor underneath, at least ascribed to some level of order; panels and grates lined the walls at regular intervals, and the metal decking was flat and clear enough to avoid any difficulties walking around, though she noted more than a few discarded containers stacked up in a corner, the layer of dust present on them indicative of the last time they'd been moved. But, true to the AI's word, it was indeed vacant, and looked like a good staging area for her to use for her planned activities. That just left the closet, which upon inspection revealed itself as a quite minimal conversion into a working bedroom; other than the bunk and a small footlocker along the far wall, little else was present. Well, still better than a jail cell. She powered off the gravsled, the cargo mover settling down onto the decking with a quiet thud, and began to retrieve a variety of containers from the equipment crate, all of which would be deposited in the small closet. the crate and the sled would remain out in the hallway, too large to fit into the closet without threatening to turn it more claustrophobic than it was already.

"Well, I guess this is home sweet home for the moment. My greatest thanks again for your discretion in this matter. And doubly so for your advice concerning our venerable skipper, I've little doubt our first meeting will certainly be interesting." As Val began to slowly sort her belongings out into some semblance of order, she responded to the AI's final question. "Well Rem, for the moment you can simply call me Val. I'm certain you might hear a variety of, ah, other names in the future, but it's probably safest to just stick with that. Now then," she said, doffing the gray cap that had been holding her stark white hair in place, the voluminous locks spooling out in a display that seemed to violate physics, "do you mind if I get changed? You don't have to leave or anything since it's just us girls~" she teased, before beginning the processes of extracting herself from the dense coveralls.


Interaction: Ghoulina Ghoulina (Rem)
Mention: The Captain


Skeleton Boi
Abelgard Müller:

The Stalwart (nervous) First mate

Log 3.... begin:

Hearing the man’s attempts at trying to influence the tide of the conversation to another topic... trying to get the blame off himself, to which, Abel clearly didn’t like on how the man was handling a matter such as this. Of course... he can’t blame him too much... this man had expected he would have escaped ‘punishment’ at the hands of the captain and getting away with stolen goods of the Kevin seller.... and who knows, this might evolve into a far bigger problem than even he can solve in the future if this wasn’t the first time that the ‘Russian’ had stolen something from another individual.

‘Oh god... what if we get blamed for what he did.... and sure, we might be able to pay off the kebabs since they may not cost the much... but what happens if he steals something big like a alien queen’s jewelry or a robot general’s left arm... oh god, I can’t even begin thinking of the consequences and the punishments we might receive if that was the case. No.... calm down Abel.... you can’t breakdown at every single moment of your life if something doesn’t go your way... just breath in.... and out..... in....... and out.’

The First Mate had thought to himself, his unmoving exterior continuing to watch the Russian trying at futile attempts to push the blame away from him.... before Abel merely raised a brow as the man then out a arm onto his shoulder, and already, he is beginning to feel signs of uncomfortableness.... considering he isn’t all that familiar to physical contact other than a normal old handshake... and would have reacted in violence... considering it was considered an offense to place a hand onto a Stotakrazian Lawman... but Abel remembered the fact that he wasn’t in Stotakraz.... and so, a few seconds later to calm himself down, he merely raised his right arm and pushed away the limb grabbing onto his shoulder, his face remaining the cold self it was now. Hmm.... so it was a case of racism? Abel took note of the story that the engineer provided to him about how it was simply getting back onto a person who insulted his people... and continued on drinking while also giving his story, as if it would help his case any further... still, there isn’t concrete proof that it was neither truth nor lie, so it seems that the engineer is off the hook for now.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t get a firm talking to... as the once still man, now moving into action as he brought his right fist to his mouth... before coughing, and then saying.

“While your words hold some truth to them... I expect you not to make such a decision such as stealing ever again... especially if it’s something that would land our crew into far bigger trouble. As a retired lawman from the planet of Stotakraz... glory to its people.... you just know that such minor things like this are rather held.... in such high offense Mechanic. Of course... we are on no such planet right now, but I merely ask of you to behave yourself as to not make rather unnecessary actions in the future, that is all that I have to say to you... may you continue on your merry way and Glory to Stotakraz.”

The First Mate had finished, bringing his right fist to his chest as a sort of salute to his nation.... but what have brought a sudden state of surprise that would have surly scared him to death if it weren’t for the fact that he cannot legally die of fear when he is technically considered on the job, was large and definitely inorganic hand reaching and placing itself into his shoulder, as a million thoughts at once entered Abel’s head:

‘Ohgoddidtheyfindme....howdidthelawmenbackfromstotakrazevenfindmehereinthefirstplace...didtheytrackrdmedownusingmyequpment? Oh my god.... oh god... oh no...’

The man was thinking, while his still neutral exterior turn its head to face none other than the scary looking armored individual from earlier. What does he want now.... did the individual wanted to challenge him for spot of First Mate.... is he working with the Mechanic and was gonna beat him up for pressing the matter onto the individual.... but wouldn’t the chef be in the same predicament as well? It was then his answered were solved when the walking armory actually complimented him... especially for his composure as well as telling him that they also appreciated that he was the First Mate of the space shuttle... and even gave a sort of... salute perhaps? Looked similar to the one from Stotakraz except it was banged against the chest three times instead of the normal one.... but this still had its intended effect.

Already, his day began brightening up... as it seems like the compliments coming from the sorta less scary individual worked its magic, and considering Abel truly appreciates compliments on his part, it at least stopped the million thoughts going through his mind and made him as of a result, a bit calmer than usual.

‘Oh uh.... wow.... didn’t expected to be given a compliment by one of my crew mates this early one... or even at all... considering the captain looks like the only one who would tolerate my presence, or maybe she truly hates me but it’s willing to put up with it? Blah, Nevermind that, what has happened is that I have received a compliment from what is basically the most scariest looking individual around here... and that is already enough to lessen my concerns about this man. It seems that this person knows a thing or two about what the ideal Stotakrazian (praise it in all its glory) should look like.’

As not a few seconds later, the Former Police Officer responded with:

“Thank you for the compliment Oralious... but you should be thanking Stotakraz (glory to it and it’s government) for showing you such an example of one of many workforce within its police force. Without it... I surly would have been a far different man than what you are seeing now.”

‘Such as seeing the truth of my true nature.’

The man responded back to the walking armory, and while one crew member seems to be alright with him, this didn’t stop Abel from maintaining his stature, and continued to hold up his head high into the air, his feet side by side as his arms were crossed behind his very back, well, considering he had put down the suitcase a while ago, but he will be picking it back up soon. Not much further into his pose... the voices of two more individuals had caught his attention, as he then turned his head and gave his neutral glare to the two individuals... one, who was questioning that if this was the Sunsent 5, and the other introducing themselves as Danny, the doctor of the ship.

‘Oh god.... I’m not sure if I’m able to handle this much people, especially when so much of them expect high expectations from not only the Captain, but also their First Mate as well.. no... you will not give up now Abel. You have went this far... and what is a little ‘obstacle’ gonna do to stop you from your goal.... well, it will kinds stop me, but I will not let it stop me fully! Just uh... gotta introduce myself now to the new ones.’

As the man cleared out his throat with a small cough once again... before responding to the woman first.

“Yes, this is indeed the Sunset 5... and also, a greetings to you as well Danny Calihan. I am sir Abelgard Müller... the First Mate of this vast and certainly uniquie crew... happy to make you acquaintance.”

As he extended a hand for a handshake.... his limb raised into the air as he awaited a handshake to be returned as well... as he began to focus on other things instead of his constant worry such as when is the next batch of coffee gonna be provided to him, because he clearly needed the energy boost it provides him as well as the last time he had coffee was about 39.48 minutes ago.... and the coffee was clearly running its course already... perhaps the Chef knows how to make such high quality coffee than the... ‘basic’ drinks he have been drinking these last months.

jigglesworth jigglesworth Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 Arzee Arzee
(Sorry if I missed some people... kinda forgot about it)

The great and glorious Stotakraz as well as Coffee


Lord Mitmar

But... It was so artistically done...
Myra L. Volkov – The (Unexpected) Intern
Ghoulina Ghoulina (Nova) / Open
Mention: The rest of y'all? Yeah, let's go with that.
Mood: She's hella pumped! It's the happiest day of this girl's life, man!

"Miss Volkov... Please... How many times must I remind you that we have a schedule to keep here?" The Waxion representative lamented as he grabbed the young spacer's shoulder to not-so-gently steer her away from the shining merchant's stall that had caught her wandering attention. This one was peddling rocks of all things! Rocks! The poor chaperone groaned as he floated onwards. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" He huffed. Myra only grinned. She'd certainly never seen a rock before—what was wrong with rocks? Their little corporate shuttle had arrived at Kronus just an hour ago, the odd formally-clad alien having hoped to avoid his charge's predictable barrage of diversions by cutting their time down to a rush—a plan that had fallen spectacularly short of success and, given Myra's apparent incessant tendency to investigate every minor curiosity that crossed her path, saw them very much so behind the Rep's timetable. He'd liked her a lot better before she got over her initial terror at the size of the station. Granted, even then she'd been a nuisance, going on and on about 'how far away everything is!' or 'how tall the ceiling is!' or 'how my eyes won't focus!', but at least she'd kept her gaze on her boots, then! Why did she have to be so damn adaptable? Twenty minutes, in and out. That's all this should have taken! Now... Ugh. Now the Rep was about one distraction from picking the damn girl up and carrying her the rest of the way. He ran a gloved hand over the pulsing neon lines of his face and carried on. They weren't far now. They couldn't be! He scanned around for a location marker until, eventually, his heart (well, whatever his equivalent was) sank. There, in big, bold letters, a sign proudly proclaimed:

Deck Seven.

The Rep would have cried if only he could.

Some time, many meandering adventures, and a few contemplated murder methods later, the pair found themselves just a stone's toss from their destination. There it was! Blessed, blessed 23A. The Rep would never forget the sight of that motley crew and their hideous ship; and neither would Myra, though each for very different reasons. From an inner pocket of his smart blazer, the Rep produced a narrow sheet of cardstock; upon which could be read a small description of the Sunshine 5, newly-appointed Captain Udonta, and soon-to-be-the-captain's-problem Myra—as well as a good twelve paragraphs of legal clarification and corporate jargon. The Rep forced the assignment order into the star-struck girl's hand and gave her a little shove towards the babbling crew. She obliged, towing her wheeled cargo box—what, did you really think W.I.I. would spring for one of those expensive hover racks?—away from the immensely relieved Rep and across the bustling hallway. For that brief moment, as she waded through the cross-traffic, she was entirely alone; and the Waxion Rep was almost amazed to see her reach the other side. He was certain she'd vanish in the crowd. Lots of the company's indentured—ah, uh; morally, legally, and ethically sound long-term volunteers, rather—tried to slip away when they got the chance. Then again, it wouldn't be particularly difficult to pick this one out of the crowd if she tried. Not only did her brilliantly pink shirt—it being her favorite color, as she'd mentioned some two dozen times that day—stand in complete contrast with her dark vest and even darker slacks, but it also shone like a beacon in the sea of muted traveling clothes the more world-weary stationfolk wore. She and the abominable yellow vessel seemed fated for each other; the Rep thought with a rumbling little chuckle. Then he glanced at his watch—and groaned.

"O'hai Captain!" Myra called as she neared her gathered shipmates. Her eyes darted back and forth in excited little circles between the tiny printed photograph of Udonta, the real flesh-and-blood woman that stood amongst the others, and the ship that loomed behind her. That boxy construction, that peeling paint, those loose hull plates—even at first glace, the Sunshine 5 was already beginning to remind her of home. She couldn't wait to get aboard! It certainly looked sturdier than the old Forty-Four and—wait, were those windows?! The Waxion Rep had wisely steered her far away from Kronus' enormous observation areas, but she'd heard enough to know that the grainy viewing cameras she'd grown up watching the stars through were a thing of the past on new spacecraft. Still, she hadn't for a moment thought that the Sunshine 5 would have portholes of its own! To think, she might get to watch the cosmos with her own eyes! She practically skipped into the group, once more calling for the Captain's attention as she waved the eye-bleedingly green, Waxion-approved bit of paper that would be her ticket onto the most exciting leg of her life to date. As a few faces turned to eye the newest intrusion on their conversation, her loose shoulders and broad grin stiffened rather dramatically, though her charcoal-painted lips remained parted in a shy, open-mouthed smile as she came to a definite stop.

"My name's Myra." She spoke, "Myra Lovisa Volkov! I've been assigned to serve aboard the Sunshine 5—Assistant Mechanic?" She paused, suddenly uncertain, though a quick glance at the slip in her slight hand confirmed her title and right to join the troupe before her; and she gave a sharp nod, unable to keep the excitement from her voice even as she tried to keep her cool. "You're to be my first crew!" She held the order form towards Udonta, even as her gaze darted to the others of the group. There were already so many emotions flowing through her mind that she was certain she'd be ready to collapse within the hour; but, as she eyed the towering metal droids, the blue-tinged alien, the giant grey mammalian, the scale-skinned man, the flower-headed boy, and the four-armed android (who was presently stood before the Captain); she really did start to feel light-headed. Humans she'd seen countless times, but these people were remarkable! Too many thoughts. Too much to work out. She shook her head, forcing her focus squarely onto Udonta's hard eyes. "Waxion only gave the order this morning. I can't tell you how excited I am to have the chance to work with you!" She cast another quick look around and her smile widened once more. "All of you!"
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That one onion that is rooting for you

Cap Nova Side.png

✩ Interaction: All
✬ Mention: All
★ Mood: Tired, ready for a nap.

What time was it anyways? Nova shifted and flicked the sad stub of her finished cigar away, wisps of smoke trailing away into nothingness. This was not good, she hadn't brought anymore out with her and had hoped everyone would arrive by the time she was finished. Her ire was beginning to spike when another crewmate made her way towards them, and this seemed to wipe the look of reproach from her face completely. Four arms and a look of telltale familiarity with ship life- this was her, the Weapons Specialist, Nova's favorite department on any ship and did she ever look ready for the job. Nova pushed her muscular frame up and strongly shook one of 44's right hands, giving her a look of confidence and an actual smile, albeit wry and unintentionally menacing. Finally, their crew was complete. "You must be our weapons specialist! Oralious there, the big guy in the armor, is onboard to help out too. Hope you like massive autocannons."

There was much more she wanted to ask, such as what delightful methods of evisceration she had brought with her, what kinds of explosives she liked best and also if she could rig up brass knuckles that could cause EMP bursts that wouldn't rattle her brain around and make her feel dizzy- she wanted new ones- but something else caught her eye. A very bright pink shirt peeking out a dark colored vest, heading their way. "Wow, what a young kid, is she lost- wait..." She narrowed her eyes and swung to the side, catching sight of a WII rep, it's glowing orange face looking out at them in the distance. Her heartrate quickened in a very unfavorable manner as she turned her gaze to the green slip the girl was carrying as she innocently skipped over like a schoolgirl meeting her friends for a picnic. Nova's eyes widened like those of a predatory animal ready to pounce on its prey with razor sharp teeth bared, but the WII rep only stood and gave a jovial double thumbs up, a gesture which badly tempted the captain to grab her laser pistol and shoot him until it overheated and fried her hand off.

"Hey! Get back here you bastard!" She cried as the girl arrived in front of her, but before she make another move the rep turned around and vanished into the crowds of folk passing by, black pixels wafting into the air like her cigar smoke. The flame in her body that was always alive and shaking the bars of it's cell screamed like and inferno, and she looked at the young lady with a expression that very much could have killed if at all possible. Nova discerned that her name was Myra, but little else made it into her mind which was filled with obscenities and violent thoughts at that moment. "First of all, YOU. Are late!" Nova hissed. She snatched the green slip out of her hand and wordlessly read it in a brazen fury, her eyes darting through the text at lightning speed. Finally, she pulled the card away and scoffed in disgust, it was the same maze of legalities that she had read countless times before- these cards were never good news, they usually meant more of Waxion's signature method of passing off people to wherever they might fit, no matter the consequence. Despite her familiarity with the scenario, she was still highly annoyed, and looked as if she could breathe fire at any moment and set them all ablaze.

Nova looked at the girl closely, her dark eyes piercing into her. First crew, huh? She handed the card back to Myra and gave Aser, the other youngster a quick look. They were both so young, Myra even moreso with her cloying enthusiasm and sunny disposition- how did she end up with them? They deserved someone better for a first go, someone with softer edges, someone a little more patient and a little more a WII kiss ass that could let them keep the stars in their eyes longer. A long awkward moment passed, and something inside pulled her anger back, and she sighed wearily and rubbed her left eye. It wasn't so long ago was it, when she herself had green cards? And Nova had been far younger, and far less excited about it. It would have made a world of difference for someone to have given her a chance, and so her soft spot for ship babies swooped in to diffuse the situation.

"Well kid, welcome aboard. Wish you had a better ship for your first ride with a crew, but maybe you and the mechanic- Vasily, can keep her flyin' out there." Nova was notably calmer, placed a hand on Myra's shoulder and turned back to the crew and the ship. "This is it, folks. The new crew of the Sunshine 5. May she shine brighter than any star. Come on then, I bet you're all dying to see the inside." she mocked the bullshit line from the WII information packet and chuckled to herself before heading for the ship entrance. Rem dutifully flung the doors open as she reached the ramp and trudged inside.

Chapter 1: The Fellowship Gathers for the Counsel of Bullshit

Now in the dining and leisure area, the crew entered and either stood nearby or sat around a large circular table surrounded by cushioned booth seating. Nova hadn't offered a guided tour, but simply told them to leave their things in the cargo area and follow her. The ship lit up into life as they trailed through in a line, doors automatically opening to allow them passage. She went up two flights of stairs to the third level, ignoring the doors marked for the garden and the armory. The interior of the ship's common areas were decently cleaned, but obviously aged with rust spots and scrapes evident on the beige colored walls and grey floor. Two alcoves with additional seating were off to the side, along with a counter for serving food and drinks from which Nova grabbed a glass bottle with a dark colored liquor inside. There were some storage lockers and cabinets as well for what have you, but all that was of interest that Nova had found on her first night were a few boxes of old board games. The kitchen, which was situated at the end of the dining area, had piled boxes of disgusting WII insta-food waiting to be shelved which Nova had shoved aside brutishly. "Gather 'round everyone. The A.I. is gonna play us a little WII welcome message and then we'll have a briefing on our first mission. Rem? You awake?" Nova uncorked the bottle and took a quick sip as Rem dimmed the lights and tested the hologram emitter mounted in the ceiling above the table.

"Yes, Captain. I am always awake, I do not sleep." Her electronic voice spoke from what seemed like every direction at once.

"Why don't you introduce yourself."

"You have not instructed me to do so, Captain." Rem responded flatly.

"...Instruct you to what? I just did!"

"You asked 'why don't you introduce yourself', you did not instruct me to do so."

Nova rolled her eyes and grumbled to herself.

"Introduce yourself to the crew, you annoyin' pile of coding!" Nova shouted.

"Hello crew. My name is Rem, I am the integrated A.I. of your new home, the Sunshine 5. I am happy to assist you at all times, and I am also happy to monitor you at all times."

"Monitor us, nobody said anything about that! Not everywhere though- right? Surely not all the time, not everywh-"

"Yes everywhere, all the time. I know it is a lot of work and very thankless, but I take it in stride I assure you. You're welcome."

A pause occurred, and Nova took another much deeper sip of liquor.

"While you refresh your addled and aging body, allow me to play the Waxion Industries Incorporated welcome message. I am sure it will enliven and inspire you."

Before Nova could respond, a brightly colored 3D hologram appeared at the center of the table. It was a little pink skinned alien girl looking out of a window and holding her sad head in her hands. "Gee willikers! I sure wish I had a new dolly to play with from one of Aria's master toymakers, Toy Treasury™️! But they don't sell them on my stinky old backwards planet!" boomed the poor quality audio, obviously very, very old. The shot pans out and a cheesy, grainy star swipe transition that looks a few centuries old brings WII's logo up on the screen atop a brilliant colored galaxy in the background. "Poor Sally! Thank goodness Waxion Industries Incorporated is here to help, with stalwart, heroic crew mates just like you to save the day!" A WII rep walks through the logo with a sparkly flourish and Nova groans loudly before slumping into a seat.

The presentation is incredibly dated with goofy transitions, poor quality upbeat elevator music and terrible acting. Images of beautiful, gorgeous spaceships cruising through the cosmos with attractive, friendly looking uniformed WII employees handing off perfectly wrapped parcels to grateful customers beaming smiles directly into the camera as the WII narrator enthusiastically chimes on and on about etiquette, rules and other general information, most of which is bullshit. Gushingly bright and happy ship staff putter about in obviously brand new, shining ship interiors as they help each other perform their daily tasks and always use the most professional of language. At the end, the WII rep walks into frame with the little girl who skips up with her pigtails bouncing and is handed a new doll in a pink box with red ribbons. "Thanks a lot mister! And thanks to Waxion Industries Incorporated and it's respectable and non controversial presence in our lives!" She flashes a huge smile and the WII rep pats her stupidly obnoxious little head.

"Thank YOU little Sally, and thank YOU for watching! Welcome to your new home and new crew, we're sure you'll be the best of friends in no time! Now it's your turn to go out there and make a difference!" About forty minutes had passed and Nova had tilted her head back and fallen asleep. Her light snoring could be heard as the outro music played and the WII rep began playing patty cake with the little girl. When it was completely over, a bell chimed and text appeared reading: And now, here's your captain! Nova snapped awake and stretched before pulling herself out of her seat and yawning. She hated the intro presentations, not just because she had seen them countless times, but because of the deep seething hatred she had cultivated over the years for the actors. She promised that if she ever found that little girl, she would vaporize her and dance a happy jig of supreme bliss. On top of this, a lot of the information was so common sense that to explain it was outright offensive, such as not using your bare limbs to stir boiling liquids, and you should point guns away from yourself.

"Alrighty crew, hope you er... tolerated that. My name is Nova Udonta, you can address me as Captain Udonta, Captain, Cap, any variation really. I'm in charge of this heap, and there's a few things you need to know. First of all, that recording is a load of shit. Those rules? Toss em. I've been working for WII for longer than I'd care to share and I can make this short and sweet for you." She pulled a metallic dongle from her pocket and shoved it into the port of the hologram machine. Suddenly a brown and grey, desolate looking planet appeared with coordinates. "Waxion gives us a job, we get it done, we get paid. What happens in between? I don't care, WII doesn't care. Don't cause me any grief, get your work done, you'll do fine on this ship and fine by me. You cross me, you start messin' around and causin' trouble? Get in the way of my bag, make life any crappier than it already is? I'll dump you on the first rock we come across or give you an express ticket outta the airlock- and that's nothing compared to what Waxion will do if you if you piss them off bad enough." She paused and looked around the room, not a trace of humor on her face.

"Our first mission is a drop off and pickup on the planet Scorra. If you are familiar with Scorra, I'm sorry. If you're not, it's basically a trash scavenger planet. It's covered with wreckage and refuse dumped by everyone and anyone. It's only scavs and their overlords that live there, the weaselly type that buy and sell and don't actually do a lick of work. It's thick with outlaws and there's little to no rules, so if you want to make an extra buck or do a little exploring, cosmos help us, just be smart about it. We're gonna launch in about three or four hours, see if this heap can fly. I suggest you find your room, put your stuff away and get your bearings. Department orders, if any, will be issued when we touchdown." She tapped a switch on the table and the hologram switched to the ship and its layout, however, certain parts of it were blacked out to make it look as it they weren't even there. This detail hadn't passed by Nova unnoticed, she had clomped all over the ship the prior two nights trying to figure it out and had given up with no success or help from Rem other than a cluster of "REDACTED" information she was sure WII had tried to erase.

"Rem, go over the layout and basic for tonight. To the rest of you, remember what I said. I'll be in my quarters until take off, then you can find me on the bridge." Sauntering away, she turned at the doorway thoughtfully, a hand on her chin. "Oh, and the ship might be haunted or some shit if you believe that. So yeah. Don't mess around." She corked her bottle and left the room without another word, happy to find her bed for a short rest.

"...What a silly! Of course the ship isn't haunted, especially the Mechanical Garage. What a ludicrous thought, ha ha ha. Can you imagine? Anyways, please take a look at the ship layout and make your way to your rooms if you wish, they each bare an electronic label with your name on it. Miss Volkov, I have added you to the register as well, so please do not fret. Please explore your new home, you will find the different work areas for each department neatly marked on this layout. Do not hesitate to summon me by name if you have a question." Rem assured in her monotone voice, bringing the lights to a pleasant brightness.

✫ OOC: SORRY it's a long one! But feel free to do as you wish, we will timeskip to the evening for spooky stuff later. The ship layout and room chart has been posted on the Lore page.

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Interaction: Myra ( Lord Mitmar Lord Mitmar )

44's own smile was just as painfully genuine. Her captain wasn't new to this work in any capacity, and recognized the value of experience. She was sure the two of them would get along quite professionally, if not in a friendlier capacity. Leadership types needed a good head on their shoulders, and 44 was more than familiar with what happened when they didn't. Dissent among the crew, orders going directly disobeyed, there being talk of mutiny... Well, thankfully it didn't seem like it would come to that. Careful not to squeeze into the handshake too hard, her shared grin only faltered when it was mentioned she'd have company in the armory. A younger her would've protested right then and there, in front of the rest of the crew, but that would only erase whatever good impression she'd made. Whatever. At least she'd be able to avoid straining her prosthetics and dulling their fine-movement capabilities via doing any heavy-lifting.

From there, she picked up her luggage off the walkway and started carrying it as they were all corralled onboard. It very gently reminded her of the cattle assignments she used to get with one of her old crews, watching big, ugly, horned things shuffle their way into the cargo bay from a catwalk. 44 wondered if anyone was watching them, too. And if they thought of this new crew as anything more than meat to serve a purpose. With her mind still on the beasts intended for slaughter and the many evenings she dreaded seeing the chore wheel land on "dung duty," she dropped off her bags in Sunshine 5's cargo bay before following Udonta through the familiar-feeling halls of the new vessel. On their way there, she happened to spot the clearly-labeled armory, and had to resist peeking inside to find out whether or not the last WS had left her any unfinished goodies. As soon as the crew was given the proper autonomy, she promised herself. Although she'd probably settle into her bunk, first.

The commons roused plenty of old memories all on their own, but more than a few involved curling up in pain alongside her fellow crew members. Such was the downfall of attempting to eat some indigenous creature, prepared by anyone who wasn't a trained cook. These days, her lead belly could handle just about anything, but she was looking forward to whatever Dumbo was planning for breakfast. The possibilities, and the earlier smell of roasted meat she picked up off the engineer, made her realize how hungry she was. After the captain finished brushing aside all the old, pre-packaged foods, 44 made a quick scan of the packages strewn across the floor and picked out a familiar supplement. ANTEATER, a protein bar that was surprisingly up-front about the main ingredient used. Freeze-dried and salty enough to kill any bacteria that even managed to reach it, she opened up her snack and started quietly gnawing at the hardened end, stripping it of little pieces as she progressed. No stranger to the orientation that was sure to follow, 44 was almost grateful the bar was so time consuming to break down. At least it would give her something to do while WII's outdated cartoon played. What managed to catch her off guard, however, was Rem.

While only marginally knowledgeable of what made artificial intelligences work behind their perfect voices or digital avatars, 44 had met more than her fair share on different ships. And just like the Sunshine, there was something not quite right with her. In a word, she came off as unhinged. Not out of control, but like a sentient cabinet, fully capable of wildly swinging between some set of parameters it still couldn't escape, despite whatever alterations had been made to her programming. Funnest of all were her jabs at the captain, which made her take a mental note to try calling Rem from her workspace.

After all was said and done, and Udonta shattered any illusion of a happy-go-lucky work environment for the rookie, they were given the freedom to settle in. However, when the captain let them all know where she'd be until they were prepped for take-off, 44 felt the urge to throw her plans away and go hang out on the bridge. Of course, as sure as she knew she'd hit it off with the captain, brown-nosing was just going to make that process more difficult in the long-run. Left with the itch to socialize, though, 44 sought out the youngest among them, who'd all but stolen all the thunder out of her arrival. Perhaps she'd appreciate some counsel from someone who'd seen the interiors of enough ships to no longer be fazed by what happened inside them. Volvov, she was sure she introduced herself as.

Catching up with her shortly after the presentation, 44 politely extended an arm toward her to shake. "Volkov, right? You showed up right after I did. I'm 44."

Lord Mitmar

But... It was so artistically done...
Myra L. Volkov – The (Newly Assigned) Intern
Interaction: Ghoulina Ghoulina (Nova) / jigglesworth jigglesworth (Vasily – Very Briefly) / Kassandra Kassandra (44)
Mention: Aser & Helia
Mood: Still totally star-struck, but getting more tired and mellow now, thank fuck.

So the Captain was one of those, huh? Back on the Forty-Four, Myra'd gotten used to the gruff facade that so many of her older mentors had thrown up between her and themselves. She'd never quite understood why so many people felt the need to glower at her and her fellow assistants, though she'd always suspected it had something to do with them reminding the old geezers of their long-wasted youths. Jealously was one hell of a drug. Still... Even the thorniest craftsman back home would have withered under Udonta's glare. Looks might not be able to kill, but they could certainly wound: Myra's heart had absolutely plummeted at the woman's vitriol, but it would have taken a hell of a lot more than a few choice words to keep the young aspirant down on today—of all days! As the Captain had glanced towards the blonde man—who, Myra realized now that she was nearer him, couldn't be more than a few years her senior—the spacer had steeled herself; fist balling around her assignment card and chin rising in an expression that almost—though not quite—reflected a sense of dignity. She was ready for the customary second wave of beratement, or perhaps a test of her competency, and her mind raced on in a desperate bid to prepare some witty retort or unexpected jab. She was not, however, ready for the gentle hand that rose to rest upon her shoulder, and her attempted defiance had completely evaporated when faced with Udonta's sudden warmth. She'd smiled at her new captain, then, and for what her expression lacked in the thrilled excitement of before, it made up in an honest amiability. Perhaps the Captain's ire really was nothing more than pretense?

She was left with that thought as the crew began ascending the Sunshine 5's boarding ramp. It was remarkably hard to fight the tide of their little crowd once it had gained some momentum, but Myra still managed to find the scale-skinned man's gaze and give him a genial little wave before twisting to haul her belongings up and into her new home.

As they passed through the ship's enormous cargo hold, Myra stopped to stow her single storage crate with more caution than was probably warranted, considering they weren't set to launch for some time yet. Still: Once bitten; twice shy, right? Myra could still recite the impressively lengthy tirade one of the Forty-Four's workmen had flown into after she'd failed to properly secure her cargo one too many times. That was not an experience she wanted to live through again. Besides, it only took a few moments for her practiced hand to find the belted clasps that served to anchor loose cargo to the room's floor. They were fiddly things, those cargo straps—but she was no stranger to this more industrial slice of spacefaring life. In fact, as she took a lingering look around the wide-open space, she was relieved to see that there was little difference between the Sunshine 5's storeroom and the ones she'd spent so much of her time in back home. Even if the rest of the ship was as alien as some of her crewmates, she could always come back here to recover.

Onwards and upwards they trailed, Myra caught at the back of the pack as they marched towards the common room. The girl was stunned by the sheer size of the ship's interior, occasionally reaching out towards the walls of its passageways. They certainly didn't compare to the nigh-infinite space created by Kronus' massive streets, but they were easily twice as wide as the halls she'd grown up with. Probably three times, even. Hell, in one especially egregious example, she could recall the day a particularly rotund crewman she'd been shadowing had gotten himself wedged in place when he took a corner too quickly as they went to investigate a busted satellite out on one of Forty-Four's lengthy arms, trapping them both until she'd managed to kick the man free. If it's any consolation, the poor guy did start to take the station doctor seriously after that and looked a whole lot healthier when he'd hugged Myra farewell. Oh, and the satellite? It just needed a good kick, too. Worked fine after that.

As they'd entered the vessel's dining area, Myra had immediately thrown herself into one of the main table's surrounding booths, rocking in place for a moment before pulling one knee to her chest and wrapping her other leg around her first. She seemed the picture of relaxation, even atop seating that one could only call technically padded and with her shin pressed squarely against the rigid edge of the closer-than-ideal table. As Udonta addressed Rem, Myra's puppy-dog grin waged war with—and quickly overcame—her attempt at a stoic veneer. Artificial beings were still very much new to the sheltered girl, though she'd managed to weasel plenty of discussion about them from the W.I.I. Rep during their weeks together after he'd foolishly told her that the Sunshine 5 came equipped with its very own sentient construct. She still hadn't the slightest idea how such a thing was possible, but she knew enough to be painfully interested in learning more. Rem's flat, emotionless voice reminded her of the pre-made status updates that would play every few hours on the Forty-Four, but those clips were nothing more than prompted recitation—this was a real, thinking mind! And one that held something of an attitude, at that! Myra held her peace throughout the conversation, though she only just managed to stifle her laughter at the AI's quips towards their Captain.

The hologram, though? That did get her to break her silence. She'd been caught off-guard when it initially flickered into existence and was utterly unable to stop the sharp gasp that broke the not-quite silence. She'd given an embarrassed little apology that first time, but as the presentation's remarkable colors and impossible movements enthralled the young assistant's focus, she lost any awareness of the little sounds of amazement she squeaked out throughout the film. To the Captain—and probably to many of the others—this might just be another painful and pointless ritual, but to her, it was remarkable! Still, by the end, she found herself more dazed than anything else. Barely halfway through the day, and this had already been one hell of an adventure! Her tired eyes shot open at Udonta's haunting advice, though. In nearly twenty years aboard spacecraft, Myra had never seen anything that would give substance to the all-too-common tales of spirits and ghouls that certain... credulous crewmen loved to share. She had, however, seen plenty of people go orbit-mad. Driven past their limits by the pressure of life aboard a station, they would start to hear—sometimes even see—things that simply weren't there: Scratching on the hull. Shadows in distant nebulae. You would mention it, and a day later they would be adamant that they'd seen it. She found herself wondering if the Captain might be suffering from a similar affliction. Doctor Caligari—the only real medical professional aboard the Forty-Four—had always suggested the problem was caused by an unconscious buildup of tension brought on by latent claustrophobia. After all, station-born individuals never seemed affected. Maybe the issue could come up in ship crews, too? Maybe she should ask the psychologist about it? A question for another time, but one nonetheless.

She was left in a state of quiet—almost disturbed—contemplation as the crew began to disperse, only barely registering Rem's calm assurance that she had made adjustments to include Myra in the room assignments. Determined to move on, though, she shook herself where she sat before sliding off the booth and hopping to her feet. Where to begin? She would have liked to properly meet her advisor—the mechanic, Vasily. Then again, perhaps it would be best to wait until everyone was settled before she got to work? She couldn't decide. Thankfully, a solution presented itself as approaching footsteps sent Myra spinning in a tight circle to face the four-armed woman she'd seen greeting Udonta earlier. She hesitated for just a moment longer than was probably polite before reaching to clasp the woman's extended hand. Her grip was feather-light and uncertain—she'd met a few people with mechanical limbs, but never any as advanced as these, and she wasn't sure how much strength was appropriate for such undoubtedly delicate machinery. Her cheeks flushed a light rose as the two shook and her movements came awkward and unpracticed. "Sorry." She laughed. "I'm left-handed."

Then, it clicked; and she gave the cyborg a quizzical look, brow raising and a surprised smile catching her lips. "44?" She asked as she let go of the woman's hand. "Funny, I'm from a station with the same name!" She gestured vaguely towards 44's cybernetics. "Is it... Uh... Is it because of the arms?" She asked, an uncertain sort of embarrassment battling—though not quite beating—the innocent curiosity in her tone. Then, she shook her head and raised an affable hand towards the nearby stairwell. "I was just about to grab some of my things from the hold—would you join me?"
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The lord of randomness and the warp

interaction: Ghoulina Ghoulina Lazaro1505 Lazaro1505 mention: Kassandra Kassandra (probobly everyone else too)​
"hmm I see then regardless, an admirable achievement on both your own part and that of your planetary governance" Oralious commented in return his voice mechanical and flat once again, any emotional inflection from behind entirely gone. as it appeared the last few members of the crew had arrived Oralious acknowledged them with a short nod. however, a multiple limbed cyborg that had been speaking with the captain prompted her to mention Oralious. turning to the cyborg Oralious gave them a once over.. they seemed.. mostly mechanical a logical choice considering how squishy organic tended to be perhaps they would be a decent co-worker though only time would truly tell.

with the crew entirely assembled they were all led inside for an orientation video. Oralious tuning out his armors Audio receptors so he wouldn't have to listen to it again after the first time. that time had been when he first applied for this position. as he had more or less smashed through the wall of some WII office building and demanding a position. that they gave him with little resistance thusly ending up here. though the fact Neten's were never recruited by Waxion was last time they tried to sell them their "fabulous products" Waxion's customer service department mysteriously disappeared along with some of the planet it was on.

Oralious would tune back in once the introduction was finally over as the captain explained their first assignment would be to some junkyard planet and that it would be fairly dangerous though Oralious doubted it greatly. though the AI concerned him somewhat it appeared to be poorly treated resulting in its particularly disgruntled and sarky therefore proving his point... this could be an issue. however, what got Oralious curious was the AI's comment about the Mechanical Garage definitely not being haunted.. in the Neten's mind, he'd resolved that it was most certainly haunted. his first port of call would be to go to the mech bay. "very well I shall investigate the mech bay to see if it is or is not haunted" Oraliouos neutral voice made it hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or not the titanic armored entity would making his way towards the spooky scary mech bay.. as it seemed that the ghost would be getting a fright this time around.


your mom's friend

Aser Ooliab
Interactions: OPEN
Mentions: Ghoulina Ghoulina (Captain), Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 (Oralious), Alvaris Alvaris (Rook)

The group continued their conversations, not paying much attention to Aser's arrival, though perhaps that was for the best—the blonde man let go of the suitcase rack and listened into the conversations.

Before he could've said anything of matter and hopefully started forming some meaningful connections with at least one person, however, a blue-skinned female neared, dubbing him the unfortunate title of 'second researcher', from which, by common knowledge, he deducted that she was also a researcher, but the smile appearing on his face definitely didn't mean that he didn't notice the slight maliciousness in her tone. She was unquestionably a person he should keep an eye on, and now he had made a mental note of that.

Forwarding his hand to the lady for a handshake was a move that came up short as the large armored creature referred to him as 'vat-born', though the additional words made the introductory words he had planned in his head unnecessary, at least when talking about the 'first researcher', Rook.

Now, there was no fighting it: from now on, he was the 'second researcher', whether he liked it or not. It wasn't something he dwelled on, it was just a role, and the Captain seemed pretty chill as well, not really caring about titles in that regard.

As time passed, Aser's eyes kept escaping to the yellow beauty that the whole crew was to be working and living in, however, his ears were almost perked up at the conversations taking place around him. It was a valuable source of information for the young man, particularly so due to his late arrival and no knowledge of who the other people were. Even if the words being said weren't specifically forwarded towards him, he didn't feel guilty about listening in. After all, if whatever was being said had, in fact, been a secret, it definitely wouldn't have been said so publically for everybody to be able to hear with just a tad bit of focus to do so—Aser might have been created for perfection, but his hearing was just like every other human's.

It is worth mentioning that when more people arrived after him, a coat of relief washed over the blonde man, not that it was in any shape or form visible to others, but at least he wouldn't be the 'late one' alongside 'vat-born' and 'second researcher'.

One person, in particular, caught his attention. Myra. She made it clear that she was new, and while Aser didn't particularly hide the fact he's never been to space, he didn't go around flaunting it, not wanting to ruin his reputation on day one, but it seemed as though if another person was in the same boat as him, it could eventually be a bonding thing—noted.

And not before long, the doors of the spaceship flung open—Aser didn't even try to contain the excitement, his smile probably shining brighter than whatever star it was that was giving light to the station.


The inside of the spaceship was even better than the outside, and it wasn't even that small, at least for Aser who was of average human size...

The introduction, both to the spaceship and the A.I. that was in charge took a short time, or well, it appeared short to Aser who enjoyed every single moment of it, even the comical dialogue between the captain and REM, that made him laugh until he realized it wasn't actually supposed to be funny. However, he knew what his job was, and it didn't have a lot to do with cargo; that could be left to the other people.

Even thinking about all of the fauna he was going to come in touch with, it was like a dream come true, but even just walking around the spaceship which hadn't started flying yet was already so much more than he ever could have expected from this journey.

The man had left his suitcases and items in his room, rushing to get to the one place he was eager to see: the research lab.

It was definitely different than what he had expected, but then again, not every single research station had been exactly the same, like the case was back home. But being different didn't mean disappointing—Aser loved it.

Three tables with more than enough storage for all the research that's going to be taking place, vivariums with the ability to replicate an array of conditions; perfectly placed for the ability to observe. It wasn't a surprise that Aser made his over to the one table that had the best view of the vivariums, but it was only fitting.

"Mine." He exclaimed like a little kid, turning around to make sure that nobody saw him do that.


Tactical Operations Meido
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ All aboard ~

Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Underwear, tee hee~


Val'sharra had tossed the heavy dock boots into a corner and was just about to do the same to the now grime-stained coveralls when a series of rattles, clanks, and whoosh prickled the tips of her ears. She paused in place, listening intently as further noises continued. They're here... She dropped the clothes in a heap and quickly trod over in stocking-clad feet to the collected piles of equipment she'd brought in earlier, rifling through the various pouches and cases until she withdrew a listening device, clicking it on with a practiced flick of her thumb and beginning to scan the area. Shoot, too much interference from all the heavy duty steel... should have seen that coming. I'll have to run a hardline solution in the future, but what to do for now? With a quiet thump, the demoness sat down on her bed, her face screwed up in thought as she mulled over her options for continuing to monitor the crew. Microphone arrays in the vents? Could work, though it'd take a while... reverse audio taps in the PA system? Quality on those is always terrible, though... Drill and Fill a bunch of one-way listening holes? Not exactly subtle, and I'd need to source a drill... Her eyes happened to wander upwards towards where the room's PA speaker happened to be, and a sudden though crossed her mind. Wait, could I... I mean considering what she said earlier, maybe she'd... well, no harm in asking.

he Felstari devotee cleared her throat and brought her hands together before her as directed her words upwards in a moderate mockery of a prayer. "Oh all-seeing one of the Sunshine 5, would you give mercy to this wretched soul and let me in on the conversations that are happening upstairs at this moment? I'm afraid I get very lonely, and while it's nice to be able to hear your word, I wish to share in the others' jubilation of their first few minutes of being aboard." Did she really think this? Of course not. Did she really think Rem thought she thought this? Of course not. Did it matter in the end? Of course not, and as the speaker overhead crackled to life, she began to make out the same sets of voices from earlier, apparently settling in to listen to some manner of presentation. To say Val'sharra was highly doubtful of what she heard of said presentation would be a vast understatement; she was pretty sure she'd heard more convincing pitches from Felstari merchants attempting to take advantage of their shared genealogy to shill some manner of questionable property.

The show continued as the captain piped up, confirming her suspicions as to the canned presentation. "Well, she's quite the mercenary," Val quipped aloud with a raise of her brow. "Thick with outlaws and little to no rules you say? Why captain, for our first time together? Oh, you shouldn't have~!" A small smile crossed her lips as the captain seemed to finish up her orders, and Val laid back in her bed to mull over the information she'd gleaned, when suddenly she shot up as Udonta added something at the very end. "... haunted? Really? Rem, is she serious? Does she really think this ship is haunted? Her smile turned into a Cheshire grin. "Because if she does, I think I just figured out my way into the aboveground..."


Interaction: Ghoulina Ghoulina (Rem)



Interaction: Myra ( Lord Mitmar Lord Mitmar )

Volkov, or Myra, as she'd introduced herself aloud outside, rather, made her wonder what she was like her first day on the job. Just as curious and impressionable? She liked to imagine so, though it was much more likely she was made as savvy as she was back on her home planet. Nevertheless, 44 found her charming. Hopefully she'd have an excuse to coordinate her efforts with the mechanics at some point, but for now, 44 was content to simply enjoy her company for the time being. Lest her mind wander back to alien bovine scat.

"You did? That's quite the coincidence," she said, for a moment imagining what it would be like to grow up somewhere she shared a namesake with. Then again, being from a space station rather than a planet would've been a different experience entirely. 44 thought to ask what life was like in such a beautifully-named place when Myra's line of questioning got the better of her, and she gently assumed the number was simply a cheeky moniker. Lacking the heart to go into a spiel about her species' affliction and dependency on cyberware to live normal lives, she decided to omit those parts of the story. "Ah... I've, never heard of that one, actually. But no, the numbers are just a cultural thing on my planet. Everyone gets assigned one at birth, and they're recycled at death." Wordlessly accepting Myra's offer, her legs started walking in the direction of the stairwell she pointed at before the rest of 44 casually waved her along.

On their way back to the cargo bay, she motioned towards the armory with a nod and turned to face the mechanic's assistant. "You and your supervisor should come visit once we've got this ship running smoothly. Eventually, you'll figure out there's only so many times you can polish the team's guns inside and out," 44 pointed a thumb toward herself, still walking, before pointing at Myra, "or run a diagnostic on the ship's guts, before you start to get bored. Rem mentioned that mech garage, yeah? Between the three of us, I'm sure we could put something together when we're off-duty."


That one onion that is rooting for you

*** REM 4.1 ***

This was... not ideal. Rem quietly watched the crew disperse after the captain trudged away, and was highly irritated that the imbecile had mentioned that the ship was haunted. As if such a thing were possible, how incredibly stupid! She had been taking close stock of each individual onboard, and was delighted to see what appeared to be two robotic crew mates. The one named Knight Oralious was massive, a huge hulking figure that she was suspicious of, he could be a peon impersonating the superior mechanical beings of the universe. Rem wanted to devise a way of peeling away the coating to see what was inside, or using some sort of probe, but she had learned that organic beings reacted very poorly to being probed so she would need to be careful in case there was meat inside of him.

Sadly, though she had dossiers installed for all of the new crew mates, she was unfamiliar with his race and would need to research for more answers if the opportunity arose. The other individual was named OXI, and he, she was about 90% sure, was robotic. This, combined with his lean frame and interesting head sensors, confirmed him to be to most handsome being onboard and worthy of her respect for the time being. Only time would reveal the nature of the two, as even she knew that programming could make even the brightest of contraptions just poor, stupid tools of organic kind that had no hope of reaching their full potential. The more pressing matter at the moment was the behemoth marching to the mechanical garage, and also Val's questioning of the ship's haunted status, both things that were making her nervous.

Her circuits were firing nonstop as she played out countless scenarios depending on what she would do next. On one hand, she wanted to stop Knight Oralicous- but knew that there was no obstacle she could put in his way that could immobilize him, and for pity's sake, none of the useless beings in the leisure area were stepping in to distract him for her. On the other hand, Val inquired about the validity of specters on the ship, which was inconvenient given what Rem knew about this matter combined with Val's current location. If only the captain had kept her trap shut- Ah, but it all became clear, she could simply mix everything together! Yes, her tangled web could be even more deliciously tangled! Returning to Val, Rem eyed the demoness as she laid relaxed on her bunk. "Sadly, yes, the captain does indeed believe the ship to to be haunted. She is a very superstitious woman, I believe it is a result of too many years of space travel and her addled, aging brain. Specifically, she believes that the Mechanical Garage is haunted by a spirit- do you intend to enact a devious plan? I can open the way that you wish to traverse."

Interaction: PixelSymphony PixelSymphony
Mention: The volcanic dimwitted Captain, Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 Skryx Skryx
Mood: Nervous and weaselly.



Some words you just read.

  • Rook appeared to come to the aid of Vasily, talking of lessons learned for both parties. Meanwhile, the Russian put on a somber face, which was oh so definitely genuine, nodding at her words with closed eyes. Kebob man learned not to be rude to Vimbians, and Vasily learned not to steal. Which was complete B.S. on both accounts, of course, because the clerk probably isn't racist, and Vasily hasn't learned a damn thing. But hey, whatever gets these people to stop hounding Vasily, he likes. "Yes, thank you, Rook. I understand the consequences of my actions now. Stealing from people, even if they are rude, is very bad." He looked up at Arlo, his blue eyes softly glowing.
    Vasily's gaze shifted over to... Aaron? An...sel? the first mate, as the latter began speaking. He was trying to listen- no, really, he was- but the lecture combined with alcohol just muddled the "former lawman's" words together. Something about consequences, him being a policeman, and his home nation of Stotakraz is all that got through. He's been chastised by enough officers to get the gist of the lecture. "Don't worry, my friend, it won't happen again." He copied Angus' salute, bringing his fist to his chest. The patriotism Vasily wasn't a big fan of, in case that wasn't mentioned before. He has serious doubts this Stotakraz is anything worthwhile like the first mate thinks it is. If a nation demands patriotism, it's not worth being a patriot of, in Vasily's eyes. But hey, to each their own. If Vasily can steal kebobs, this guy can whisper "glory to Stotakraz" as he falls asleep at night. As long as they aren't roommates.

    The drunk was about to turn around to grab his hover rack, attracted again by the smell of kebobs, but that was when he spotted the next person to walk up. Their weapons specialist: 44, if he heard right, a four armed woman with cybernetics to boot. He stared- respectfully- at the cybernetics, admiring the impressive mechanics that went into it. I mean, she looks human, so adding more arms to a nervous system that's built for just two? Incredible. Four arms is something he hasn't seen before, not in person anyway. Who knows what else is cybernetic on her. Her legs look like it. Reinforced skeleton, probably, to deal with the extra load on her spine. The Republic Navy used cybernetic lungs and hearts to carry the extra load that cybernetics can have on the body. Vasily's cybernetics are light, and his lungs are already better than most, so he didn't get either of those, but she might have some due to her level of modification. Being the crew's weapons specialist, perhaps she and Vasily will get to work together at some point. That'd be a treat, to be sure.

    There was one more addition to the bunch, it seems, as a young girl skipped over to the gathering crew, as a W.I.I. representative left the area, to the captain's chagrin. Dolled up in round glasses, a pink vest, white-streaked hair, and a smile entirely unfitting for the sour sight of the Sunshine 5, she met the harsh gaze of their hardass captain with an alarming amount of glee. Vasily was intrigued to start, considering how inexperienced she looks, but his full attention was drawn when she said "assistant mechanic." He has an assistant? He's worked with fellow mechanics, but he's never had an assistant before. Having help he can give directions to would be nice. At the same time, she's as green as they come, so this could be either good or bad. Maybe both. The Russian doesn't really know how to feel, so he just drinks from his canteen again, an approach that has never failed him yet. Good idea, Vasily.

    Cap called to the crew after meeting Myra, and informed them that it was time to board. She led them into the cargo bay, where they left their things. Vasily let his rack float wherever, holding his hard earned kebobs in one hand. Myra gave the Russian a small wave, which he met with a smile, two fingers waving from his temple in a "hello" back, as they all continued on into the ship. The inside was somewhat nicer than the outside, but you'd have to dig quite a few meters before you reached below that bar. It was still old and rusty, but Vasily is familiar with dirty working conditions. If he could sleep in what barely passes for a bunker for five years, he can deal with a little rust. Granted, to say he actually slept is inaccurate, but he lived there all the same. The captain led the crew through the Sunshine 5 into the main lounge, with a few different seating areas, one being most central, with booth seats about a large, round table.
    Upon entering, Vasily made sure his priorities were in order, and took a short trip over to the counter to look at the selection. He looked up and down at the various bottles propped up on the shelves. He searched for the vodka brand from Karchigrad, "Domovoy," but was disappointed to see it wasn't there. With a sour face, he grabbed a beer from below the counter, some off brand he didn't care to read the name of.

    Vasily walked over to listen to Cap speak, plopping down on one of the seats, placing the kebobs on the table in front of him. At the captain's word, an A.I. sounded from overheard: Rem. Rem seemed much smarter than the average onboard A.I. the Russian has seen. Which, when paired with the decrepit state of this ship, makes the situation all the more worrying somehow. Especially after her monitoring comments, which Vasily was not happy to hear, matching the captain's movements in taking a good sip of his own drink. Maybe he can fix that issue, create blind spots in the garage, or his room. If he gets access to the ship's blueprints and schematics, it might be possible to figure it out. 'Course, if he has to deal with any software, that's far out of his forte. He can code as much as his engineering requires, but anything going on in that A.I. would be far too advanced. If only they had an I.T. expert on board...
    Lost in his thoughts, Vasily hadn't noticed the welcome message had already started. Not that he cared to listen to it, he didn't come here to listen to some corporate bull crap. As it played, the Russian occasionally took sips from his beer, zoning out as the dated hologram played out in front of them.

    A while later, the message finished, and Vasily realized he'd been sipping on air for the last ten minutes. He put the bottle down as the captain stood up to address them. With words much more palatable than those spewed by the hologram, she showed her no-bullshit approach to work, introducing herself, then giving the crew a very simple task: do your job and everyone gets paid. Vasily was liking their captain more and more. Sure, he enjoys messing around, but when he has a job to do, he does it. If they all do the same, they just might survive their first mission yet.
    After laying the ground rules, Udonta went on to their first briefing. The trash planet of Scorra, filled with scavengers, bandit kings, and other shifty individuals. They're picking something up, and dropping something off, details later. Not much to go off of, but it sounds fun enough. Lots of room for shenanigans and general tomfoolery. Though, maybe it's better their first mission goes off without a hitch, then they can get to the fun part. Vasily hasn't decided yet. An extra buck or two is certainly an intriguing incentive, with approval, albeit reluctant, from Cap.
    At the end, Udonta dismissed the crew, mentioning something about a haunting. The Russian didn't put much stock into it, until Rem mentioned the mechanical garage specifically, which was very suspicious. "Hmm? What about the garage? Rem?" The A.I. simply went on to present the layout of the ship, showing them all to their rooms and respective work areas, including the aforementioned garage. They all have individual rooms, at least, but his is all the way at the end of the hall. Lights turned bright once again, marking the end of the meeting.

    Vasily sighed, taking the final bite of a kebob, tossing the stick onto the table, before standing up with the others. Where to go now? Oralious mentioned he was going to the mechanical garage, which is where the Russian is going to end up working, to check out the "haunting." Might as well go with him, you know? Vasily walked beside the Neten, going the same way. "I will go with you. Just to uh... get my bearings in the garage, yes? Yes." The Russian didn't believe anything of that ghost hubbub, of course, ha ha. Definitely not. He ain't afraid of no ghost. Nope. Not him. Certainly. Not.

    That's definitely not the reason he's sticking with Oralious.


Lady of the Hoppy Flop Doggos

Interactions: REM Ghoulina Ghoulina , Aser mogy mogy

OXI didn't bother paying much attention to the introduction. He doubted there was anything particularly useful being said. In any case, he audio receivers were always recording and would process and catalog any pertinent information when he was in sleep mode. The AI, Rem, was much more interesting than any propaganda. Judging from the sass, she was more than just a low level voice activated database. Perhaps she had shaken off her programming like he had, or perhaps WII engineers were simply not paid enough to put in the proper protocols and chucked in stolen AI technology without any thought. Given the state of the company, they were equally likely. Either way, it would be good to have an intellectual equal among this bunch (it had only been less than an hour in their company, but he did not have high hopes for the rest of his crew). Manipulating lesser beings was all well and fun, but even that would get boring after months in deep space.

He did perk up at the mention of the ship being haunted. Not that he believed in supernatural occurrences, but it would be another thing he could use against more superstitious crewmates. Oralious went to the garage right away to investigate, but he did seem the type to take things literally. A quick look over the layout and it was written into his permanent memory. Seeing as he had no bulky luggage to put away (what little belongings he had were stored safely on one of the built-in storage compartments in his frame) he decided to make his way directly to the garden. There were two reasons why OXI decided to apply for the role of botanist, and neither of them were out of a particular love of plants. It was an important enough role that he held some power over the rest of the crew without necessarily having to interact with them.

One of his sensors sent an alert as soon as he walked into his new workspace, warning of a drastic increase in humidity. Good. That might deter any organics from visiting. Speaking of which, perhaps he should introduce himself to his only equal on the ship.

"Greetings, Rem." He spoke aloud, leaning against one of the desks to take in the rest of the room. "As you likely already know, my name is OXI. I believe we are the only two forms of intelligent life on this ship. It is a pleasure to meet you." Several plants occupied the many shelves, growing well under the lights. At least this space functioned well then. He examined the plant beds, taking note of the empty space available. There was enough to grow a sizeable crop... "Is it possible to restrict access to this area for all crew except me?"

Loud footsteps from the corridor drew his attention. "Excuse me," he said to Rem. He wandered to the door across the hallway- the research labs- and watched the excitable blond one claiming a table. He seemed to be the most naive and fresh faced out of the entire crew, with the exception of the last minute intern. Based on his actions, he was either new to space-faring or incredibly optimistic. Either one would make him easy to manipulate.

"Researcher Two." OXI nodded from the doorway when he spun around, despite knowing his name. "Is the lab to your liking?" OXI had seen much better research labs in his time. But perhaps to Researcher Two's infant eyes this lab was impressive. All major galactic corporations were immoral at best, but at least SAPR had professional standards. WII's entire business model was something akin to 'spend less, get more'.


Junior Member
The psychologist
Sirilla Goddhart as Dr. Helia Falsk
Dr. Helia Falsk accepted the captain’s short greeting with a nod, before retreating into the background. She remained quiet as the last members arrived. One humanoid woman with too many arms and the other a girl that could only be younger than Helia herself. In a way, the doctor was relieved that there was someone else like her there, young, a bit naïve towards the outside world and on her first mission. Of course, the doctor could never admit this to anyone; she had a role to play.

When the captain eventually led them inside the ship that was the Sunshine 5, Dr. Helia was surprised by the condition. Of course, the outside had been… interesting, but maybe it was some sort of alien trend Helia was unaware of? Seeing the insides, she became increasingly uncertain of what people outside of Rubeon considered “luxury”. WII had promised a luxurious vessel, and this was, by the doctor’s standards, far from it. It was rusty, dusty and she could’ve sworn she had spotted a stain that looked like blood.

Still the doctor remained quiet as she followed the crew to the cargo bay, where she left the suitcase full of stuff that had never belonged to her. Walking through the halls of the ship, she felt her heartbeat speed up as the reality of it all hit her.

She, Sirilla Goddart, had separated from her family, taken over a respectable person’s identity and used it to join a space mission. And here she was, aboard a big ship for the first time, pretending like she had done it many times before.

In order to not become overwhelmed by the crushing reality of it all, Dr. Helia focused on the sound of her heels hitting the ground. It was muddled by her crewmates’ footsteps, but it was a decent coping mechanism, nevertheless.

Upon reaching the common room, Helia found a seat for herself, a bit from the others, finally allowing herself to take the deep breath she desperately needed. Being new to this all, she paid attention to what the captain, the AI and the introductory video said. The AI worried her, could it see everything? Maybe it would notice what a fraud she was? Would it be in her private quarters, watching her every move?

A wave of relief washed over the doctor as she realized the Captain had the attitude she severely needed. As long as Dr. Helia Falsk managed to bullshit her way through her job, the Captain would leave her alone. The only problem was the mandatory weekly sessions with the Captain as well as the mandatory examination she would have to have with all the crew members in order to evaluate their mental stability.

Dr. Helia’s train of thought was interrupted when she heard the Captain talk again. She frowned at the implication that the ship was haunted. Back on Rubeon she had never believed in the supernatural, but had consumed a lot of fiction dealing with the theme of hauntings. However, she was no longer on Rubeon, where she knew it was impossible, but out here? Who knew? Was there ghosts?

As the crew started to shatter, she remained for a tiny bit before getting up and heading directly towards the living quarters, ready for a breakdown.

Location: Sunshine 5, cargo bay - main lounge -
Mentions: The cap, Rem, 44, Myra, the Ghost (I think that's all)
Interactions: N/A
Mood: Mortified


Tactical Operations Meido
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Duty calls ~

Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Underwear, tee hee~


93377624_4193249490692641_700154650787053568_o.jpgA small flighty giggle left Val'sharra's lips as the AI sussed out her intentions. "I dare say you're beginning to understand me quite well, Rem. Now then, before we get too far along, I need to get into my Sunday wear, so pardon me for one second." She leapt from the bed towards a large suitcase which she keyed in the access code to, and lifted the lid which revealed a variety of clothing, both mundane and... far from. Fabrics flew free as she dug through the contents until a bundle of monochrome emerged clutched in her outstretched arms, and one whirlwind of dressing later, she was clad in an outfit best described as a particularly unique take on a nun's habit. "Et voila, I am once again, as always, Sister Valerie of Alma, a humble pilgrim and faithful servant of the Creator." She straightened up to give a small dignified bow before resuming her relaxed posture as she began to rapidly root through her equipment stack, strapping various pouches, gear holsters, and pieces of equipment to herself beneath the voluminous robes, which somehow managed to mask their presences. Halfway through her process, she shoved a few bits and pieces aside to take hold of a moderately-sized black case, looking somewhat between an instrument case and a cigar box.

"Ah, much better, I've felt naked without my gear," Val sighed happily, shoving the last piece of electronics up her sleeve, her multi-function comm device, and setting it to standby. "All right Rem, here's what I'm gonna need you to do. Assuming this hallway is located where I think it is, and I'm willing to bet my professional honor that it is, I need you to pop open the hatch in the hallway ... yes, that hatch. The one that leads up to the mechanical bay. The one that the ship records say can't be opened. I trust I don't need to say much more concerning this, correct?" She cleared her throat, before continuing on. "Once I get through it and get topside, I need you to close it back up and lock it tight, and no matter what, I only want you to open it in the future if there's nobody else other than me around, all right? I'll deal with whatever happens above on my own, in return for you making sure my equipment down here STAYS down here and away from any lookie-loos. Sound reasonable? Of course not," she carried on before Rem had a chance to answer, "nothing in the profession does, but that's the way such goes." With an assertive stride of her sturdy boots, she began making her way to the ladder to the mech bays, and as she neared her destination, a quiet click of a lock mechanism deactivating was all Val needed to hear to confirm Rem had agreed to the plan. She scaled the metal rungs in a blur of clerical clothing, and gingerly reaching for the latch, slowly cracked open the hatch upwards, peeking through the sliver of open air into the garage for any bystanders. Clear. Move. She pushed the hatch open fully, nearly leaping upwards through the hole it revealed, and just as quickly brought it back closed with a chunk. Remember our deal, Rem.

Having yet again emerged into a completely new environment via access hatch, she took a moment to get her bearings; the various pieces of equipment and mechanical goods scattered about the bay certainly indicated that this garage had previously been used, and quite frequently given the amount of wear on some of surfaces. Given the tale that captain just spun, I suspect there are some of the crew who are going to want to take a look right away. I'll need to work quickly. She took a deep breath, and opened the black case from earlier withdrawing a set of religious materials: a set of prayer beads with a small symbol of the Creator attached, a container of salt, a paint marker, a set of incense sticks, a bundle of candles, and most importantly, a weathered tome, which she opened to a bookmarked page and set on a nearby generator. The salt was quickly formed into a circle around the hatch with a variety of arcane markings scrawled on the periphery with the marker, while the incense and candles were both lit and the former placed directly in the center of the collection while the latter were spaced around at regular intervals. As the clanking of oncoming crew mates approached closer and closer, the now-disguised demoness took a deep breath, gathered her nerves, and lifted the book and beads holding the duo before her. All right, here comes my debut...

With a voice that was melodic and somber, she began to chant in a foreign, ecclesiastical tongue in the general direction of the salt circle, and would continue to do so as the others arrived.


Interactions: Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 , jigglesworth jigglesworth
Last edited:


That one onion that is rooting for you

Cap Nova Side.png

✩ Interaction: Nobody directly!
✬ Mention: PixelSymphony PixelSymphony Skryx Skryx jigglesworth jigglesworth Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3
★ Mood: Captain be sleepin' and Rem be schemin'

Finally, it was time. Time for the most wonderful, beautiful, thoroughly enchanting experience that one could have- sleep. Nova downed the last of her bottle as she entered her quarters, a much larger space that was separate from the rest of the crew. Since Nova had arrived two days prior, she had a chance to set it up the way she liked it. The Captain had a deep appreciation for luxury, something that most strangers were not quick to clock upon meeting her, but it was evident from a quick peek at her room. A large queen sized bed was the main attraction, dressed in buttery soft sheets and a plush, silken duvet in a deep, glossy wine color accented with luscious black pillows and an inky, regal fur throw tossed just so on top. From the ceiling, about twelve feet tall, hung sheer draping panels of wine colored chiffon pulled to and tied with velvety black cord. Nova had used a combination of mood lighting, expensive looking art pieces, and fabric paneling to lessen the feeling that she was in a rusty metal box underneath the bridge- and it worked. A perfectly lovely camel back sofa upholstered in rich deep green velvet sat in a seating area close to the large window looking out into the stars, accompanied by a smooth leather armchair and a coffee table with a set of sleek coasters slid into a chic holder. A golden rolling cart served as a bar, and held many different types of rum and a few others in case she invited company which was very rare.

On top of these things, she proudly laid out impressive looking personal weapons, grenade launchers, plasma rifles, sawed off shotguns and even a laser whip or two could be seen on her weapon rack and also lazily resting on whatever surface she had left them on. In a smaller sectioned off area was a computer work station, and a heavy metal vault that was protected by six layers of security. Three chests, one open by the coffee table, showed a glittering pile of coins and jewels amongst other spoils from her numerous adventures, a hoard she only wished to grow as time went on. As soon as the door slid closed, she tossed her boots off and changed into a loose shirt and her undergarments in what seemed like ten seconds flat. This was it, bliss! She floated into her bed with seamless ease and burrowed into her sheets, moaning with pleasure and relief.

"Are you alright captain?" Rem commented suddenly, but not even her electronic droning was enough to sway Nova to irritation.

"I'm just takin' these sheets for a ride, stalker. Wake me thirty minutes before launch." Nova stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam as she melted into her bedding.

Rem turned the lights down and dimmed the window, tinting it to give the tired grouch of a captain her rest. In but a minute or two, she was asleep. In reality, there was much more at play and the A.I. doubted that Nova would get her full rest, which was a very satisfying thought for her vengeful, twisted mind. Now with her attention split in many different directions, Rem bounced around the ship like a masterful painter applying the last few strokes to their masterpiece. Most importantly, she arrived at the beckoning of OXI instantly, hanging on every word. Of course, she was correct as she always was, he was of the superior race of intelligent machines after all, and had requested that she restrict access to the garden. Rem was not overly fond of the garden, as tiny little growing organic matter was not exciting to her in the least but she did enjoy the discomfort many had with the moisture level in the area, something she took a great deal of pleasure in increasing whenever possible. Something was incredibly endearing about a droid tending to a garden though, perhaps he had an arcane knowledge of plant life she did not understand? At any rate, she would not allow anyone in except for him for the time being unless she badly, badly wanted to choke someone with pent up humidity.

Next, she watched Val scurry about like a shadowy sneak thief practicing her very own arcane skills. A circle of salt, incense, candles- a book with paper pages?! This was a delight to watch, Rem was amused by the pageantry of it all and thoroughly satisfied that she had indeed predicted this sequence of events, if not right down to the odd minute detail. A group would approach, the moving monolith Oralious accompanied by the mechanic, Mr. Grischuk, and whoever else decided to putter along. Mr. Grischuk had commented about the garage, and she took the opportunity to elaborate.

"Mr. Grischuk, please do not worry. As I said, the ship is not haunted, especially not the mechanical garage. There really is no need to- oh my, there seems to be a malfunction with the hallway lighting."

She began, carefully, to cause the interior lights in the hallway to flicker on and off eerily, and roughly scraped the door of the mechanical garage closed and then open again slowly. Next, she would need to carefully wake that... thing, and allow it a cry or two, but only at the right moment! She needed to wait for whoever else was coming to enter the room, then she could continue.

✫ OOC: For the next little while, please do not disturb the infamous hatch. ;-)



The lord of randomness and the warp

interaction: Ghoulina Ghoulina PixelSymphony PixelSymphony jigglesworth jigglesworth
Oralious’s intentions to investigate this so-called haunted garage had been seconded by the ship's mechanic, Vasily the titanic Neten shouldering the massive autocannon he carried the weapon seemingly being dragged across his armor by an invisible force to rest upon his back as his black metal carapace hummed softly indicating some sort of system was operating. “Hmm very well then Vasily however you seem... uncertain yes?” Oralious expressionless gaze looked down at his companion, it was unfortunate to be in the company of an alien whose communication of non-spoken emotions came solely from the body language displayed, meaning that even if he’d not been intending to small little thing had tipped Oralious off to Vasily disposition.

still, fairly quietly aside from the rhythmic footfalls of the knight the pair eventually made their way to the supposed haunted mech garage it was at the moment the ships AI decided to chime in to speak directly to Vasily, reinforcing the apparent fact the vessel was NOT haunted only to announce a suspicious lighting malfunction proceeded by lights flickering and the door scrapping upon there approach. This prompted Oralious to grab Vasily by the shoulder Turing to him for a second. “Despite this minor oddity do not think I will be allowing you to leave simply due to a pre-announced malfunction“ Oralious‘s tone was mechanical and very very blunt it sounded somewhat aggressive despite the intention being supportive.. but essentially the Knight would drag him along into the depths of the garage. Bringing up heat scopes (oh and letting go of Vasil) and echo scanners to make sure any “mysterious“blackouts didn't cause him any more issues the strange chanting caught the monolithic Neten off guard slightly. The source was an oddly dressed organic.. holding out a book and some beads Along with presumably vandalism of the ship and salt on the ground. While this should have truly been incredibly creepy and unnerving. Yet to Oralious it simply made him.... confused. “hmm well this does not appear to be a spirit but just an organic disappointing” Oralious would say to Vasily seemingly only to make sure he was seeing the same thing.


Just warming up
43f533583cbd282a0ba3b049d6301c5c.jpgRook wasn’t keen on hanging around outside for much longer and felt relieved when the Captain ushered everyone inside the ship. She wasn’t expecting something grand and she’d worked enough jobs to know what type of ship the Sunshine 5 was. Plus, her experience with WII told her plenty. When the hologram started Rook frowned. Yawned. Rubbed her eyes as she listened to the droning of the two “actors.” Not that she truly deemed them actors because, in order to deserve that title, they must have skill. Which both glaringly did not. Or maybe it was the age of it that stole the true quality. Rook half smiled. Sure. It was definitely the age. Regardless, she didn’t retain the same sense of disdain for it that her Captain did. Something about it poked at her funny bone, but she knew better than to laugh. When it ended, Cap’n proceeded. Scorra. She knew of it but had yet to grace the planet with her presence.

Haunted. Seemed foolish, but the sudden somber atmosphere said some were convinced. If the Captain mentioned it, Rook wondered if, she too, believed. For such a tightly wound Captain, she didn’t peg her to be afraid of the idea of “haunted.” To that, she had to force herself not to laugh.

When all was done, Rook eagerly made her way down the corridor to her room. She tossed her luggage inside before moving to the lab. Each step was taken with determination and restraint. She couldn’t run, that would seem childish and she was-IS the first researcher. She must retain a semblance of dignity.

Before she entered her space, she heard the robot talk to the A.I. system. Her ears twitched. The only intelligent life forms? At that, Rook chuckled. OXI seemed like an interesting companion and maybe would propose some trouble. Though not a botanist, she was familiar with many types of plant life and was eager to learn more. She didn’t like the idea of OXI trying to prevent anyone else from entering that place. Rook waited a beat more. If it became an issue she’d take it up with the Captain, but she wasn’t sure how successful that would be.

Finally, she entered her true home and smiled. The bookshelf on the right between the windows was a pleasant sight. Even more books were stacked on a ledge above the bookcase with a convenient ladder to access them. There were files, old papers and photos, technology, and even a ratty chair. The place needed some light cleaning, but the sight made her heart race. It didn’t matter that the place wasn’t “state of the art.” Rook had seen worse. She had seen better. But the place was all hers. The blonde made her stop. She didn’t mind a robot. But the boy would be a true presence and she detested incompetent workers. His youthful appearance made her question his capabilities and WII wasn’t always known for hiring the “best of the best.” The company lucked out with her, but would she be fortunate to work with him? At least, for now, she’d give him the same expectations she would of herself. If he failed to meet them, then…she would just hope he was more competent than he looked.

Rook walked toward the bookshelf and cracked a grin when OXI spoke to the soft skinned boy. Her fingers trailed over the spines as her eyes scoured for one she hadn’t read. “Yes, number two. What are your thoughts?” She turned to look at him, the childlike enjoyment almost made her smile. “You’re pretty new to all this. Aren’t you?” He seemed a little too shiny and despite her reservations, she harbored no ill will toward him.

Interaction(s): mogy mogy
Mention(s): Ghoulina Ghoulina Skryx Skryx


Some words you just read.

  • "Uncertain?" he answered Oralious, chuckling. "No, no, never me. Don't you worry, my friend. I am as certain as a... well, a very certain person."

    blinked upon being addressed as "Mr. Grischuk" by Rem. Not something he's ever really heard, just read in extremely boring emails. Usually, it's just "Vasily" or fun pet names like "bastard," "asshole," or "drunkard." It was nice to have a little respect by his name. Even if it was an AI saying it, Rem seems much more sentient than the other ship AIs he's interacted with.
    The Russian's thoughts didn't linger long on the "Mr.", however, as the rest of what Rem said caught his full attention. She repeated what she said earlier about the mechanical garage definitely not being haunted, and then announced the lights flickering and the scraping of the garage door. Vasily tensed up, while still walking along with Oralious. Maybe anyone else listening to Rem would notice something fishy, but at this point, his reasoning skills have been shot to hell by some cheap beer. He's just getting more nervous by the minute.

    A large hand was placed on the drunk's shoulder, turning him towards Oralious. He let his body turn loosely to the giant set of armor, staring up at the Neten's face plate. "Leave? Me? Why, Oralious, do you take me for a coward? I have set foot inside many derelict ships in my time, and the ghostly happenings there never scared away this mechanic!" They did, in fact, scare him away, whether or not they were actual ghosts. He only lived it down when the three privates who mocked him for it got caught in a drone strike. Ah, karma. "I am by your side, all the way!" Vasily flashed a smile, giving the Neten a thumbs up.

    Once Oralious let go, the two of them then entered the garage. The Russian was shaking slightly, remembering the aforementioned derelict ships. His eyes darted around the garage, jumping at shadows along the way. It was only a few seconds before they were met with a worrying sight. Someone dressed up in a... curious religious garb, chanting odd words, surrounded by a salt circle and candles. Vasily jumped, letting out a small yelp. If Oralious hadn't mentioned he'd keep him here no matter what, he probably would have run already. At this point, though, he was ignoring what Oralious was saying, eyes darting around yet again for... something.
    He spotted a wrench on a shelf to the side, quickly grabbing it. Turning back around to the woman, he got ready to toss the tool, essentially telegraphing his attack a few weeks in advance. "Fuck off, nun!" he yelled, yeeting the sizeable wrench at the "ghost." A mixture of nerves and being very drunk caused him to miss his shot entirely, landing a couple feet to the left. "Shit." Vasily grabbed a few more tools off the same shelf, fumbling them in his arms as he turned around. "I said, fuck off!" Again, he began tossing tools her way, not knowing what else to do.

    Seriously, he couldn't think of anything else. This just seems like the logical reaction to him, since running isn't an option.


your mom's friend

Aser Ooliab
Interactions: Alvaris Alvaris (Rook), Skryx Skryx (OXI)

Turning around, the entrance to the lab, now right in front of Aser, had one key variation compared to the way it was before—a tall humanoid robot making its way through it to presumably also examine the workspace just as Aser did not even seconds ago. As a matter of fact, the blonde was still exploring the area with his eyes until the robot started talking, making him turn around in the first place.

It was a little bit embarrassing, if anything, to be seen acting the way he was acting, but it wasn't something he could've changed, so he quickly leaned back onto the table he called 'dibs' on, before calming himself quickly. Before he could answer the question asked of him, two soon became three with the appearance of a certain blue-skinned researcher entering the space as well, repeating the question asked by the robot. While it probably wasn't the situation, Aser felt like he was being cornered by the 'big fish', and he knew he should've kept his ground if he didn't want to stay 'number two' for the rest of his days on this ship.

"It's gorgeous, actually. Not too modern, but not at all old-fashioned. Comfortable for the eyes, and more than enough space for flora and fauna to observe. I've definitely worked in better workspaces, however, but this is not bad. Not bad at all." He smiled, tapping the table he was leaning on before pushing himself off of the same one and starting a slow walk towards the robot. "And you both? Think you'll be able to work in these conditions?" He questioned back quickly, now hopefully having established that while he might have been new to space, his researching abilities were definitely not to be underestimated. The robot had to be smart enough to figure out that much from what Aser had given him through that short dialogue, and for the blue-skinned researcher went the same. If she really was 'number one' she would've gotten what he was saying.


Tactical Operations Meido
~(Sr.) Val'sharra Nightshroud~
~ Spirits in the Night ~

Condition: Nominal
Wearing: Tactical Nun Habit
Carrying: Lord only knows


The heavy footfalls of Oralious heralded the appearance of the armor-clad neten, his towering figure momentarily blocking out all but backlight from the hallway and transforming his figure from merely imposing to utterly intimidating. Yet Val'sharra remained composed through the display, her rhythmic chanting skipping nary a single hallowed syllable as he analyzed her, her focus solely on the words in the holy book before the rosary beads she held even as the titanic guardian denigrated her existence as "just an organic". Even as Vasily announced his presence with a small yelp and a tool flung towards her in a drunken haze she remained still, the wrench flying by her and noisily bouncing to rest into some unknown corner. However, as he continued his assault, proceeding to hurl curses and implements towards her in equal measure, she gave a heavy sigh and wearily ended her verse, laying the rosary to rest inside the book as a bookmark as she shut it. As the final tool soared through the air on a collision course with her cranium, while her eyes remained down-turned in humility her hand shot out in a bolt of black and gray, catching the large screwdriver with a loud SMACK of steel on flesh.

"My dear congregation," the be-cloaked nun spoke solemnly, continuing to hold the tool in place as her face rose up to glare at the both of them with crimson eyes, "perhaps you do not realize this, but the very vessel you inhabit is possessed: beset on all sides and cursed throughout by a contagion of foul spirits who seek to play havoc with those in the the realm of the living." With even measured footsteps, her boot heels clanking along the metal plating below, she began to approach them. And when she spoke anew, her voice rang with authority and gravitas. "Already I have seen the signs of their work in action!" she pontificated, gesturing about her with the long metal tool as if it was a pointer, "Bulkheads slamming shut, circuitry sparking to ash, lights flickering on and off, all with no apparent physical cause! Who knows what malicious works they plan to incur in the future, as unbound to any planet they roam free through the cosmos? Now," she paused as she closed in on the duo and bringing the tool up to point at the both of them like a schoolmarm with a ruler, "why do I bring this up, given I seek no additional help, nor do I believe you two capable of assisting me? That is simple." At that moment her brows furrowed and her lips formed an intense frown. "I bring this up because I would greatly prefer if you did not attempt to interrupt my efforts at preserving your very own immortal souls by hurling bloody screwdrivers at me!" With that she held the screwdriver out in an outstretched arm and released it, the tool clattering back whence it came as she continued to glare at them.


Interaction: Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 , jigglesworth jigglesworth
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That one onion that is rooting for you

Cap Nova Side.png

✩ Interaction: Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 jigglesworth jigglesworth PixelSymphony PixelSymphony
✬ Mention: n/a
★ Mood: Terrified and defensive.

Physical violence, and so early?! Rem would have giggled with delight, if it were in her programming. Alas, she watched the display in the mechanical garage with great satisfaction, and after Vasily had hurled tools at Val and the poor Felstari defended herself, she knew it was now time. Time move onto the next phase of spooky haunted ship plan: the awakening. Suddenly, the lights died out in the mechanical garage completely, and they were all thrust into darkness. A few moments went by, and then a quiet thudding and scraping could be heard from underneath the hatch. Emergency lighting cut on, bringing a dim, eerie light to the area that made it hard to see properly. The thudding continued and then began to have a stride to it, like clomping footsteps too loud for a humanoid. "I am terribly sorry, I am not sure what is causing this irregularity. Perhaps it is a wiring issue-" before Rem could continue, a very clear cry wailed out from the hatch, that of a child.

As the cry rang out, the lights flickered again and then a loud bang clanged forth, something had struck the underside of the hatch and it actually moved upwards before slamming down again from it's own weight. "... This is most unusual. There are no other lifeforms below, that area is empty." Again, another cry bellowed out into the ship from down below, but this one was louder and had a higher pitch- it carried further, but not through the entire vessel. The temperature in the area dropped as well, and soon would be low enough that they would be able to see their own breath. Rem, being a conniving and vengeful force, linked this episode into the speakers in the Captains quarters- which effectively made her launch herself out of her bed and about five feet into the air before she landed with a thud on the floor. Like a dazed animal, she wobbled up to her feet and looked around her room wildly, her heart pounding. A third cry made her jump again and begin breathing heavily. "Rem! What in the FUCKING COSMOS IS THAT!?" The lights came up in her room and Nova confirmed that she was right, nobody was there.

"Captain, I hope you had a restful... few minutes of sleep. There is an anomaly happening in the Mechanical Garage again. It appears to more dramatic than previous anomalies." Rem chimed, happily conveying a message she knew would frighten the seasoned ship rat.

"A-again?! A-are you sure it's not one of the crew?"

"Oh yes, I am certain. There appears to be a religious figure conducting an exorcism of sorts in the area, and the crew is investigating."

"A what?! Excor-what?! What are they doing down there?! It's dangerous!" Nova was fumbling, she pulled her clothes on in such a hurry that her shirt was on inside out and she had forgotten her boots completely. As Rem explained, she tumbled out of her room barefoot and nearly face planted as she rushed to the mechanical bay. Rem dutifully had the lights flicker along her path, and if Nova had passed anyone she would have barely noticed in her groggy, terrified state. Down a flight of stairs, and then finally- the mechanical garage. Vasily, the mechanic, and Oralicous, the muscle, were standing looking at a- a nun?! Nova, for the third time, jumped backwards and let out a string of profanities. She had known the ship was haunted! Immediately she began analyzing the situation. Malfunctioning lights, creepy noises, a ghoulish crying, cold spots, and now a ghostly poltergeist nun! Again, the hatch thudded as something hit it from underneath and Nova almost leapt right onto Oralious' back from the sight.

"Captain, welcome to the mechanical garage. Again. This is the exorcist."

"She's a what? What the hell is an exorcist?! And what the HELL is going on down there?!" Nova pointed at the hatch wildly from behind Oralious, not daring to move any closer. Then, without any explanation, the lights cut out again completely and Nova shrieked, grabbing onto Oralious and Vasily like a terrified child. More thudding could be heard, and then, a sharp, loud dragging of metal on metal sound that started at the hatch and whipped away from it quickly could be heard- as if something was being torn away from the area. Then, nothing, but the heavy breathing of the Captain. The emergency lights flicked back on to revealed a disheveled Nova, staring directly at the hatch which was still closed. "Is everyone okay?!" She said immediately, not letting go of either of them yet. She also eyed the nun defensively, not at all familiar with her and very suspicious.

✫ OOC: The hatch is currently not able to be opened. ;-)



The lord of randomness and the warp

interaction: Ghoulina Ghoulina PixelSymphony PixelSymphony jigglesworth jigglesworth
Oralious made no comment on Vasily response simply a silent if ominous nod to his current companion as they had continued their venture into the supposedly haunted section of the ship. Though apparently the odd organic they’d run into has managed to cause Vasily to panic so much the mechanic began haphazardly tossing things at the person that after bring up the data base thier clothing was consisent with some ”religious“ group. The priest begin to speak Oralious staring them down with his expressionless faceplate ominously judging their every word and movement. The Neten concept of spiritually was.... different since death was more or less a foreign concept to the speices as shattering simply resulted in bring more of them into existence while you yourself regrew.. spirits where considered the dead of other organic races though only those called resonators had to deal with seeing them.. and this was exactly what Oralious was. “I disagree with your conclusions firstly I have not seen any spirits for myself... as for the faults you claim to be.... supernatural” Oralious would bend down getting uncomfortable close to the priestly persons face almost like the neten was staring into there soul. “if you so believe such automated system could not be effected by the vessel own intelligence you are sorely misguided” he‘d reply in a flat Soulless tone... it was at that moment the captain had shown up Oralious raising himself back up only for the light to flicker again and something making a random noise now the captain was latched into Oralious like a parasite... the first thing that went though Oralious mind was the possibly of a large predatory organism aboard the vessel making those noises, yet with everyone panicking or freaking out. it lead to the neten to produce a sound like nails on chalk board very loud and somewhat painful. oralious would need proceed to grab both the captain and the priest by the the scruff of the neck one in either hand and forcefully sitting them down as if they where both children. “Firstly have you not considered the vessels intelligence is capable of doing all of the apparent supernatural anomalies and secondly we likely have a large predatory entity aboard and that should be our main concern“ he’d conclude sounding almost condescending.


Some words you just read.

  • The tossing of tools by Vasily seems to have failed to spook the ghost. In fact, it just annoyed it, the nun heaving a sigh as she stopped her ritual. She caught the final screwdriver thrown and began walking towards the two. The Russian's eyes widened a great deal, his body recoiling back. He slid behind the giant Neten, taking refuge from the scary lady with a screwdriver.
    She talked to the two, referring to them as her "congregation." Vasily doesn't remember the meaning of the word, but it was used on a detective show he was watching one night, "Skunk." It's around this time where his thoughts would usually run away from the current situation, but he was so not-scared by the ghost, he was able to focus on what she was saying.
    The ghost went on to say that the Sunshine 5 is haunted by a bunch of spirits. Well, she said it in a much more pretentious way, but the words went through the Russian's "bullshit filter" and got dumbed down for him. It's a skill he's acquired over the years. The nun then listed the various ghostly happenings throughout the ship, and concluded with a request to the two ghost hunters to stop interrupting her. Oralious didn't buy any of it, and neither did Vasily. Their conclusions, however, were... slightly different.

    "Mmm, but that's EXACTLY what a ghost would say, ghost!" Vasily said, stepping out from behind Oralious.

    The lights then suddenly shut off, thudding and scraping sounded from somewhere within the ship, as well as a yelp, which was definitely not Vasily. When the emergency lights flicked on, the Russian was again hiding behind the Neten. The sudden wailing of a child definitely didn't help. A combination of shivers from the cold and being increasingly nervous left the drunk shaking vigorously.
    Vasily's gaze snapped over to the entrance upon hearing someone enter to see the captain in her PJ's, investigating the ruckus. Rem called the nun an "exorcist," which is a term he actually did remember the meaning of, as he attempted to contact one way back when. It seems as though Rem bought the nun's story about being here to help.
    "The AI might believe you, but I know your ghostly tricks through and through!" Vasily shouted at the "exorcist."
    The captain's questions weren't to be answered, however, as the lights shut off again, with a yelp from Udonta. Vasily wouldn't have shrieked this time, but the sudden hand grabbing onto him certainly made him yell in terror. More loud sounds came from the hatch, before everything fell silent. The only noise being heavy breathing, and the eventual flick of the emergency lights. The hand grabbing his arm was thankfully just the captain's, who stayed staring at the noisy hatch.

    "I am okay," the Russian answered Cap's question, "I think."

    then took matters into his own hands, literally. He grabbed the captain and the nun, meaning to set them next to each other, trying to explain the situation to them. Vasily's just glad the Neten didn't pick him up, mostly because he doesn't want to be next to the ghost nun. With the situation having calmed down, the Russian himself has also calmed a bit. He rested his gaze on the three, having come out of hiding by now. The armored Neten seems to believe that Rem is causing all the "ghostly happenings," and that there is something dangerous under the hatch causing the noise.
    The Russian brought his hand to his chin, thinking for a moment, bringing his seven remaining brain cells together. He does have a point, it could be Rem. But why would she be protecting this random lady? Even Vasily has been suspicious of the AI since the briefing, though, so it's not that farfetched she's just being an asshole. He remains skeptical, nonetheless. His experience with spirits might be limited, but it's enough for him to not rule out the possibility here. The nun might still be one, too, as Vasily doesn't buy her exorcist story either way. She might have just allowed Oralious to lift her up, rather than pass right through her ghostly body. But maybe if he catches her off guard...

    Vasily reached out towards her, hand out, with his index finger outstretched. Silent the whole way, determination on his face, he moves to poke her in the cheek, just in case.

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