ximilian: (Default)
ximilia mods ([personal profile] ximilian) wrote in [community profile] ximilialog2023-06-01 06:40 pm

MISSION: THE AI AND THE COMMANDER

M I S S I O N   1 4 . 0

SOMEWHENPRESENT DAYFYI

// SOMEWHEN  


The hum of the teleportation platform is familiar, filling your ears as the bright light dissipates enough to safely open your eyes. You feel something solid beneath your feet, and the lack of scent from the asphalt and dirt in Nuhiri and Deumia marks a departure from anything resembling a planet, the space around you giving you no reason to think anything of it. You're on the Ximilia once again — finally. Another mission successfully accomplished, for whatever other hardships you and the rest of the team have endured. Hot food and hot showers await, and Newt will surely be scurrying off to prepare for the team’s usual post-mission movie night.

You’re back and you can’t wait for Viveca to greet you, and for Degar to take the orb away, back to the North Wing to join the other ones.

Except … the station’s walls appear to be peeling, and some of the equipment looks a little older and unpolished. There’s even a layer of space-dust on one of the control boards. And most importantly: no one is here to greet you. As you turn and look to your fellow crewmates in confusion, even now some of you might start to wonder at the change of routine. Ivy, who had just been handling the orb, will be empty-handed, but surely there’s nothing to worry about. The station is peaceful and still. Nothing feels amiss … yet. And then:

// 0-L1V-14
Oh, hello. You are not the team I know. Yet you are here for the orb … Good.

The sound of 0-L1V-14 — or 'Olivia' as many have come to call her — voice springs to life around you. She almost seems to sound confused for a moment, clearly recalibrating her systems for this strange occurrence, before the gentle tenor of her voice regains its composure and she recalls her mission directive. The lights in the teleportation platform seem to glow just a little brighter, as though the arrival of the crew has buoyed the AI's spirits.

// 0-L1V-14
I've located one within the station, but it seems to have fractured. The air around them appears to have some sort of temporal disturbance that I can't quite pin down. Be cautious, but bring them to me before anything happens.

Well? You heard the AI. Best to start looking.


1.0   The first thing you might think to do is return to the sleeping quarters, either to clean up and change into another set of clothes; or to take a much-deserved nap; or maybe you just need a moment to yourself to collect your thoughts. The doors to the sleeping quarters seem to stick for a moment, which isn’t worrying in and of itself, but as the doors slide open you realize that you’re looking into a dark and empty carved out space that resembles a place for storage more than anything else. The walls and doors that used to make up your individual rooms are absent, and the floors are stripped bare, with rows of perforated grates allowing the cavernous space to remain relatively well-ventilated. It’s clear that no one has visited this room in quite some time, and perhaps there had once been plans for it, now abandoned to hold a stock of random items in its place.

There are boxes stacked against the wall, and a shelving unit that holds miscellaneous supplies: cans and boxes, batteries and wires, old bound notebooks made of paper. Rolls of rough tarp are haphazardly leaning against the wall to one corner, and thermal blankets are scattered amongst scraps of loose-leaf, a sketch of a cluster of spherical shapes in different colours, and other foreign knick-knacks that seem to have no place on a space station. If you decide to explore this space you’ll have to provide your own source of light as none of the lighting above seem to work though the row of fixtures that you’re used to seem, at least, to have been installed. They’re just not currently online.

Investigating the room a little deeper might draw you to a simple metal box sitting in the middle shelf next to what looks like a half-broken lute, its strings missing. There is no lock on this box, as though it wants to be opened, and lifting the lid will reveal a bright rosy-coloured light. Reaching out towards the small sliver of light in the shape of an elongated teardrop will recall a memory of your childhood so vivid, you’ll think you were back in that time, in that exact moment, to relive it again. Whether it's a good memory or a tragic one is left up to random chance. Only someone entering the room to talk you through your memory will remind you that you aren’t actually a child any longer.


2.0   Perhaps you decide to forgo the sleeping quarters entirely, and want to revisit one of your favourite simulations in the simulation room. Familiar oceans, the futuristic bar, or the room filled with adorable puppies might be your first choice — but every preset you’re used to scrolling through seems to be different now. There are the standard, familiar pre-mission training simulations, and even the Lodgen Mountain Mines mission appears to be here, but everything else has either been deleted … or it was never here to begin with.

You might decide to go ahead with one of the already existing simulations anyway, or you might want to start rewriting the one you’d come here for in the first place. It will depend on your luck, and it will depend on the success of your mission-training, but a small shard of bright, silvery coloured light may suddenly reveal itself to you. It appears like a thin tear-shape that hangs suspended in the air. The faintest whisper beckons you close; it’s familiar. Will you reach out to touch it? Doing so will colour the simulation room around you with a memory so real it might as well be — suddenly you might recall a happy moment in your life, or perhaps your greatest victory or adventure. This can be shared with whoever enters the simulation room with you or after you, and will fade when you manage to locate the right door and leave the room.


3.0   The sunlight room that you may have walked through on countless occasions is missing the familiar bridge, the river that runs beneath it, and trees that surround it. Instead, the vegetation around you appears to be far more deliberate and practical, thick foliage like bushes planted in rows, their large leaves covering most of the ground and soil. Several small metal boxes with wires and buttons can be found planted across the space, each with a thin rotating disc that whirs and spins quietly. Each of these boxes appears to give off readings, each screen displaying a continuous green wavy line scrolling across it and text that displays the quality of the air with a percentile grade, the amount of it being produced, and that particular box’s designation zone: Mess Hall, Storage, Living Quarters, and Teleportation Platform among others. This isn’t just a room that simulates nature, but if you were to approach any of the small bushes and saplings here, it’s clear that the plants here are real and they’re currently working to provide the rest of the station with oxygen.

Further to the back of the sunlight room, a bright sliver of colourful green light seems to glitter and glint between the leaves. It feels familiar in the way that it whispers faintly, and if you concentrate you can make out the sound of your name in a voice like that of someone from your past: a friend, perhaps, or a family member. Maybe a loved one or an enemy. Or perhaps it’s a voice you can’t actually recognize. It might compel you to reach out for the light, but will you listen? Or will you turn away?

If you embrace the light and call out in answer to the voice, you will re-experience the action, the conversation, or the thought that you attribute as being the reason you are who you are today with that most important person being the key piece in your memory.


4.0   Looking for your usual snacks? Feeling peckish for that bowl of instant spicy space-ramen you saved for post-mission? You might head into the kitchen expecting the familiar foodstuffs that you’re used to only to find that the room has been rearranged, with far fewer cupboards and appliances, and more of what looks like typical space-fare: freeze-fried items and nutrition-focused meals sealed into silver foiled bags. What ‘fresh’ ingredients exist are even less, and there are a stack of dirty plates and cutlery in the sink that don’t look like anything you or your crewmates might have used. You may already suspect that this whole station isn’t the one you’re used to, or you might still be in denial. Either way, you may find through your rummaging the call to a little sliver of coppery-coloured light located behind the freezer door.

If you decide to touch the fragment of light here, you’ll feel a ghostly burning as though the glint of the light has cut your skin, almost cold enough to feel sharp — but it’s just your imagination, isn’t it? What you remember now as it comes back to life around you (and the team member or members who may have joined you) is the best meal you’ve ever eaten, whether it is something you made for yourself, something made by your loved one, or the meal that leaves your heart feeling empty and aching.


5.0   You may have become so accustomed to seeing the North Wing doors sealed that it’s your curiosity that draws you forward to the wide expanse beyond the now open wing, your feet testing the threshold as if you’re expecting an invisible wall to keep you out. Nothing happens when you step into the North Wing, though you might immediately notice the large tank that holds all of the team’s successfully captured orbs is very clearly missing. And not only that but the space appears to be well lived in, a small cluster of worn chairs and a table set to one side, and data pads and drawings on white-boards in plain view. They don’t seem to be much more than a couple of crude strategy diagrams (and a couple of silly stick figures in one corner) and as you move towards the crew quarters, some of you might instantly recognize the familiar room with its rows of beds and a scattering of personal effects assigned to each bunk. Photos are pinned to walls of a twenty-person crew, pillows and blankets are left in disarray by unfinished knitting projects, a diary written in a language you can’t quite translate, and a stuffed elephant-shaped plush doll lies at the head of one of the beds in the middle of the room. By the door is a neatly made bed. An analogue paperback novel sits on the nightstand, a bookmark set in the middle to note its progress. On top of it is a well-kept watch stopped a little after the sixth hour and a medal of service in the now recognizable insignia of the Ndiera Complex’s Federation.

By the far wall of these sleeping quarters is a bright golden starlight that seems to illuminate that side of the room as though someone had turned on a torchlight to the highest setting; it’s almost blinding. Moving closer to it, you’ll find that it’s like all the other slivers of light scattered across the station — a broken shard, like a piece of a large puzzle. Touching it may pull you — and whoever might be in the room with you — into a memory from your time with the Ximilia crew, whether it happened over a year ago, or it happened only on the last mission. It might be a happy memory, or it might be something you regret, which is poignant considering your initial raison d’etre for being here at all. It’s a vision that appears from your perspective and while you relive it, you feel outside of yourself.


6.0   The rest of the station still appears to be intact, with the infirmary, the training room, and the armoury in the same locations that you remember. Those of you who have been here for quite some time, you’ll find your way around by muscle memory alone; but even if you’re a newer member of the crew you’ll have wandered the halls enough to know what feels familiar to you … and what doesn’t.

The infirmary looks to be a little out of date, though it looks as if it’s seen its fair share of use. And it’s smaller too, the more recent addition and surgical area missing from the cozy space. The training room and the armoury share similar qualities of seeming a little older, a little more lived in, and with well-used equipment and weapons to boot. The training room is still padded with firm padded flooring and benches for sitting. Some of the racks and hooks (all empty) that had been against the wall have fallen now, and similar to the teleportation room, you’ll find that some of the paneling in this room has since peeled away, revealing some of the bare structure behind them. In the armoury, you won’t find your favourite knife or preferred staff but there are still a few choices in weaponry to arm yourself with.

Wherever you decide to explore, you might once more happen upon a bright bluish light that seems to whisper and call to you in soft, hushed tones. No specific words can be picked out through the murmurs but the feeling is all the same — it draws you forward like a moth to flame, but whether you decide to reach a hand out to touch the sliver of light that hangs suspended in the air is entirely your choice. If you do, you might succumb to a vivid memory of a significant injury you or someone important to you had suffered once, reliving that moment with too sharp clarity. Those feelings of fear or threat or maybe even satisfaction seem to come to you again as though you were there again — only this time you may not be alone as you witness this memory, and someone else has entered the room with you.

Present Day.

The teleportation platform hums quietly in a clean, well-maintained room. No walls or floors appear to be even the least bit dented, and now the Commander of the Ximilia stands behind the control board, staring at the screen as though doing so will bring their crew back by some wild form of magic. Degar knows magic — he’d come from a world so full of it. This, however, is something different.

Beside him, Viveca scans through the data that had sent the crew into the Ndiera Complex, as it should have brought them back the same way, with the orb in tow.

// VIVECA
“I don’t know how it happened… they should have arrived here. Everything seemed normal! But I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.”

// DEGAR
“They could be anywhere, right? Except we can’t even help them if we don’t know where that might be.”

// VIVECA
“I know. The strange thing is that it seems that we’ve located another orb… only, it states that it’s here. On the station. So even if the platform sent them straight to it… why aren’t they here?”

The Commander and the AI both turn their gaze towards the still empty teleportation platform before exchanging worried glances with each other. Degar finally heaves an exhale but the frown in his features deepens.

// DEGAR
“Keep working at it. I’m going to see what I can figure out in the station’s systems. Maybe we can trace back to the team somewhere. Or somewhen.”

Viveca nods, her voice sounding complicated when she responds next.

// VIVECA
“Yeah. We’ll find them.”

TOP


F Y I

The events in this log take place during the first two weeks of June.

For this mission, we have decided to run the search request mechanic a little differently. Depending on whether your character decides to touch or grasp one or any of the slivers of coloured light that can be found throughout the station, you will have the opportunity to participate in a search request. More on this is explained HERE.

If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.

Any in-character questions to 0-L1V-14 can be asked HERE.

And finally, your soundtrack for this log:

TOP


NAV

peasant: (alina-ep1-11)

[personal profile] peasant 2023-06-28 06:27 am (UTC)(link)
What other use is there?

[ — that isn't, you know, appealing to indulgent cats in its purpose. she arcs a brow, endearingly entertained, if not a smidgen curious. arguably, its two purposes might be the best function of <>any objection. ]

Aside from eating, of course.
dispassioned: (pic#16314427)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-28 06:34 am (UTC)(link)
[He feels like she might be making fun of him a little bit, but he doesn't mind.]

Anything you might use a table for. Writing, reading, drawing.

[Just table things.]
peasant: (alina-ep2-9)

[personal profile] peasant 2023-06-28 06:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ his perception isn't inaccurate. if nothing else, she looks increasingly more amused, the teasing dripping from her tone. ]

You've taken up drawing?

[ difficult to imagine, with how painstakingly she had had to extract his interpretations of artwork. a creative-minded man, shuntaro chishiya is not. ]
Edited 2023-06-28 06:47 (UTC)
cruelyethuman: (Keep talking)

[personal profile] cruelyethuman 2023-06-28 09:35 am (UTC)(link)
Something is not right on the station.

[He doesn't know what yet, but the sudden perils of stepping in to foreign worlds with every newly opened door was... something.

Most likely, something dangerous.]


What was this to you?
cruelyethuman: (pic#15026676)

[personal profile] cruelyethuman 2023-06-28 10:05 am (UTC)(link)
We have pancakes - [another thing that seemed to span the multitude of worlds. Across galaxies and through the ages] usually they are filled with salmon. Minced meats and roasted vegetables.

[Aleksander smiles back, wide and teasing.]

You are making me hungry, talking about deliciously roasted duck. The crispy skin. Rich gravy and pancakes. And all we have here are partial rations and stale water.

Did you make this duck often, or only for special occasions?
Edited (spelling....) 2023-06-28 10:05 (UTC)
dispassioned: (pic#16266115)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-28 11:29 am (UTC)(link)
[He blinks.]

Well, no. That was hypothetical.

[And possibly inspired more by her interest in art than his own, actually.]
cruelyethuman: (0020)

[personal profile] cruelyethuman 2023-06-28 12:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Because- [and he's almost there now, walking close behind Chishiya but not quite next to him] I want to find a world where it isn't so.

[He wants... too many things. Another weakness, too stubborn to be purged] And because you interest me.
dispassioned: (pic#16249586)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-28 12:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Very optimistic. But you obviously won't find it in Borderland.

[He could argue that the mushrooms didn't seem to have it too bad, but then again their planet got destroyed. Cruelty finds a way, it seems.]

You must be easily entertained. I'm hardly the most interesting person on the crew.

[He's not from a high tech future and he doesn't have superpowers or access to magic. He's just some guy with a knack for survival. Albeit a pretty clever one, if he does say so himself.]
Edited (Wording) 2023-06-28 13:17 (UTC)
blackfire: (pic#15232671)

[personal profile] blackfire 2023-06-28 01:00 pm (UTC)(link)
It would be.

he won't discount the possibility, but it exists, nevertheless.

Have you happened to witness one of the memories of the prior crew?
dispassioned: (pic#16450012)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-28 01:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[He hums a little, affirmative.]

I did. I guess you have, too.
oiorpata: (79)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-28 03:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ it's all very on par for how daisy operates - of course she'd go in without training, without guidance. it doesn't make it her fault, as andy is sure the other woman also feels. ]

You made a judgement call. It happens all the time in the field.

And you survived it.
oiorpata: (34)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-28 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah I'd say that puts you at an advantage.

[ she assumes. she doesn't actually know that much about the technicalities of space travel, outside of the ximilia. ]

I like nature too much to enjoy a permanent space residence.
oiorpata: (133)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-28 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
That person helped raise me. I don't... really know if she was my mother, or someone like a mother, but she feared how strong I was growing.

I probably would have been a military leader even without the immortality. I don't know if I would have overthrown her. I can't really dwell on that sort of what if at this point.

[ not when her memories of that time are so hazy. ]
oiorpata: (67)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-28 06:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ she meets daisy's smile with another small one of her own. ]

I came to think I was a god. [ no genetics in 4800 bce, just gods and animism. ]

So you could say I definitely felt a little badass too.
oiorpata: (139)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-28 06:28 pm (UTC)(link)
I can carry some with me. I don't have it on me now, but I usually have this pouch that lets me store more than meets the eye within it.

[ she mostly uses it for weapons. a pill bottle will fit easily. ]

If you want to hand some over to others, let me know who if so. [ she pauses. ] You don't have to die over this, Joric. You certainly don't deserve to.
peasant: (pic#16545327)

[personal profile] peasant 2023-06-28 07:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh.

[ oh, she says, like she's accepted the theoretical nature of it. like it's perfectly logical to suggest a table for art with no plans for the table to be utilized for art. she hums, a faux-thoughtful cadence, and then: ]

So, hypothetically, you don't want me using the table for art?

[ is she doing this on purpose? yes. yes, absolutely. there's something entertaining in putting him through his paces a little, just to be exasperating. ]
winscenario: (seventy.)

[personal profile] winscenario 2023-06-28 07:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Well, Andy's a stranger to him, and he's a stranger to her too, so she must be talking of the other woman. Although she is kind of passed out right now, so not really great company.

Jim just hopes that this really is a good memory, because that has to mean she'll be alright. ]


Damn. Middle of nowhere. [ Nearly. But then, aren't all deserts? (He hates it, thanks.) ] How'd you end up here?
essenceofdeadlybeasts: (287)

[personal profile] essenceofdeadlybeasts 2023-06-28 07:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, that would be preferred.

[Their station, their AI, their "commander," their showers and beds. They had it sweet compared to this version. Sucked to be the crew of this Ximilia.]

Anytime, Nat-chan. Anytime.
dispassioned: (pic#16337960)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-28 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[He opens his mouth. He closes his mouth. Alina, you little shit.

She's playing him. He wonders, vaguely, if this is his influence, or if she's always been a bit of a troll.

Not that he's complaining, really. He likes her like this.]


That's not what I said.
essenceofdeadlybeasts: (278)

[personal profile] essenceofdeadlybeasts 2023-06-28 08:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[Zhao nodded. He thought it was vaguely familiar. Vietnamese was not his strong suit though. Past Japanese and Chinese, he was doing good to learn a little Korean since getting to talk to Seong-hui and Joon-gi more often. And that was before coming to the Ximilia. He liked that though. He thought that meeting another of Andy's immortals would be nice.]

Seems pretty special to me. [Implying Andy was, too, by proxy.] So you two are the oldest? Man, do I even want to ask?

[Don't ask a lady how old she was, right. That by like a thousand fold here.]
groupiedrifter: (pic#15974499)

brawl in the mcdonald's parking lot 100%

[personal profile] groupiedrifter 2023-06-28 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[Newt's attention is almost wholly on the ceiling as it begins to buckle under the weight of Otachi's violent strikes — she knows he's here, she knows he's here, and she wants to take him. They want him. Want to peer into his head like he had peered into theirs. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM—

Newt turns toward Itachi, though, expression slipping slightly.]


Clara?

[As if disgruntled by the distraction, the kaiju' suddenly smashes through the thick layer of concrete; it dips down and leaves almost a cupping floor of debris one could climb through and out of the bunker with — but standing over it is Otachi, blocking the way with her large claws and teeth. She opens her mouth and her tongue extends out, probbing. An unusual thing for a beast made for rabid killing to do... but she does seem to be looking for someone.

That someone is Newton, frozen in shock, leaning back as the glowing tongue reaches out. Acidic spit drips from her mouth and begins to burn holes in the cement underfoot. Wet with rain and coated in a thin layer of dust, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think.]


The Ximilia. The Ximilia... is... It's a station. Like the Shatterdome?

It was important work, but I can't...
peasant: (alina29351)

[personal profile] peasant 2023-06-28 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ she's an angel who has never done wrong in her life. in fact, the expression she adopts is the epitome of such a guise — brows crunched, head tipped innocently to one side. ]

Then it's not hypothetical?

[ like steve rogers, she can do this all day. ]
dispassioned: (pic#16300064)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-28 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[He takes a breath and hums, amused, narrowing his eyes slightly at her innocent demeanor. He doesn't buy it. Although, he's charmed so maybe he does buy it a little bit.]

Hypothetical for me, not for you.
edraith: (( 03 ))

[personal profile] edraith 2023-06-28 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ a battle is nothing new to her; nor is the greed of people, fighting over a mere object — the silmarils are never far from her mind, cursed jewels created by the noldor's best, only leading to ruin.

slowly, her eyes shift between the man standing on the edge of the cliff — she raises her hand, as if by reflex, but she is far too far to catch him — and the man kneeling on the ground. sorrow nests in both, though more cutting in the wei wuxian of the memory; the current wei wuxian wears his like a cloak, well-worn so it wraps around his shoulders like it belongs there.

her steps are barely audible as she walks between the fighting men to him, settling by his side.
]

... who was she? [ she asks, yet doesn't expect an answer; he shall speak if he wills it, and if he doesn't, she will respect that. ] You need not speak, if you want not; but I would remember her.
edraith: (Default)

green;

[personal profile] edraith 2023-06-28 08:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[ gimme learning about the holocron! ]