GAME OPENING LOG

[pluviosamods]

GAME OPENING

There's still dripping everywhere, and the gurgle of standing water shifting and draining to somewhere further down...

... But the sound of the rain outside has stopped. And you haven't heard the thunder in a while.

Take a moment. Look out the windows, the glass doors leading out to the balconies - the world beyond is lighting up. Mountains stand out against the distant eastern horizon, breaking up the first of the sunlight into scattered beams. The ship chases that light, running eastward towards the glow of dawn. Its motion is easier to bear now that the storm is over - the wind no longer tries to blow it off course.

You've survived the night - survived the storm. You get the feeling it won't be the last.

The storm abates over the course of the night - by midnight, it's dropped back enough that water and wind are no longer forcing their way through the bubble barriers, and by about an hour before sunrise - just when the sky is starting to get light - the rain has stopped completely. The clouds persist a bit longer, giving characters a spectacular sunrise to look at. When the first rays of the sun are visible over the mountains, any characters still affected by hallucinations feel their minds clear.

Fifteen minutes after dawn - about when it's getting to be a pain to look directly in the direction the ship is travelling because of the sun directly in the eyeballs - characters who are sensitive to electricity may sense the power kick back on. It's just in the wires and cables spread throughout the ship, however - the lights don't turn on, although the elevators do.

Five minutes after that, there's a crackle that is audible to all characters, from speakers spread throughout the hallways and rooms of the ship. Not every speaker is functional - some of them just continue to emit static instead of the message that follows - but enough of them are that every character will be able to hear a single piercing beep, followed by an artificial voice in an androgynous tenor:

"ALL PASSENGERS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE AFT LOUNGE ON DECK R-ZERO FOR A HEADCOUNT."

There's silence for a moment, and then another, quieter alert beep, and the same voice adds, almost as an afterthought,

"Please follow the emergency lighting in the hallways for guidance."

After that announcement, strips of lighting on the ceiling of the hallways - the lights are also on the floor, but even after the rain has washed so much dirt away, you're unlikely to see them anywhere except close enough to the stairs that you don't need them - light up. They begin to move in a pattern of diodes that leads characters to the staircases and elevators near the back of the ship, in the somewhat drier part of it that has more decks above the one where characters woke up.

The stairs are now navigable - even if there's still a decent amount of water flowing down them, not entirely contained by the channels cut into the outside of the turns of the staircase - and the elevators are now powered. Well, sort of. Although the elevators have power, the buttons inside do not - all of them are dark. Instead, the elevators automatically move characters upwards after they enter, depositing them on deck R0 for the indicated headcount.

Other than the increasingly large number of confused "passengers," however, there doesn't seem to be anything here. Some furniture in varying states of decay, sure, and puddles and debris from the storm's flooding, but no indication of humans or any other form of sapient life. The space is wide and open, and decently well-lit even with the overhead lights off, since the majority of the walls to either side appear to be made of glass.

AT THE CAFETERIA

Once everyone has assembled - or at least everyone who is willing to come, as nothing forces characters do follow instructions from a strange voice - there is another crackle of speaker feedback. At least there's no blaring alert tone to start this message.

"THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION."

The voice is the same as before - and anyone from a semi-modern world would be able to tell, from the pattern of speech, that this is a synthesized voice, not a real person, or at least not a real person willing to reveal themselves to be such. It speaks entirely in the language characters discovered knowing when they woke up here. The volume of the voice decreases somewhat after the initial announcement gets everyone's attention, but it is still audible to everyone.

"Please excuse the inadequate accommodations. Your arrival was unexpected. This ship has not entertained new passengers in 317 years, 6 months, and 19 days."

"We will do our best to prepare appropriate accommodations as quickly as possible. However, the immediate priority is to supply passengers with meals and other appropriate provisions. Please accept this with our sincerest apologies."

At the close of those words, the elevator doors to either side of the lounge area open, and self-propelled carts - the kind you might see in industrial kitchens - roll out. Their lower shelves are stacked with bowls, cups, and those plastic utensil holders filled with spoons, while the upper halves are full of food and drink. Specifically, the majority are full of cafeteria pans of oatmeal, the kind with the metal lids that keep the heat in. In addition to the oatmeal, there's a wide variety of raw fruits and vegetables, and some additional options for throwing in your oatmeal such as cinnamon, honey, both brown and white sugar, shaved almonds, and other things that can be made from plants and stored for a long time. There are also two carts at either end full of hot drinks - one of tea, one of coffee - and one each of cold drinks such as fruit juice. There do not appear to be any meat or dairy offerings, although there's both almond and soy milk for your coffee if you can tolerate the substitutes. (It tastes somewhat metallic, like it was dehydrated for a long time, but the coffee and tea themselves taste quite fresh.)

Once the carts have wheeled themselves out, the voice continues from the speakers.

"In order to better serve our passengers, we would like to ask you a few questions. First: What is your locale of origin? Second: Why have you come?"

OOC INFO

For OOC questions about this event, please use the OOC Questions header in the comments below. To respond to the Ship's questions, or ask it some of your own, please use the Talk to the Ship header. Otherwise, this post is a mingle, and players are encouraged to post their own top-level comments for their characters and reply to each other.

Following this post, simple food will be available in this area during "active" hours, starting from around dawn to two hours after sunset (the ship's days, at least at present, are about evenly divided). At night, the food carts roll away into one of the restaurants around the edges of this area. Instead, wheeled dumpsters with grabbing attachments collect up the old furniture and cram it into themselves, and starting the second night, 'new' furniture takes its place, mostly dining tables and chairs of various sizes.

Characters now have theoretically full access to the ship; however, the elevators are only mostly functional as debris is cleared from them. The rear elevators go all the way up the residential levels, but only as far down as deck 3. The front elevators only move between decks R0, 0, and 1.

More information on the schedule of shipwide upgrades will be available on the event plotting post in a few days. Until then - at least it's dry weather and smooth sailing for a while?

Comments

[luciacorina]

i. Onwards and Upwards
She doesn't entirely trust mysterious instructions from unseen voices, but if the others follow them, she'd rather congregate where the people are. She follows the lights to a staircase--entirely bypassing any elevators, as she doesn't recognize the strange metal boxes as anything but an odd cupboard--and up, thoroughly relieved to see the sun.

The voice thanks them for their cooperation--she doesn't quite like that word. It apologizes, and seems confused at their presence, like perhaps it isn't what abducted them, or at least it wants them to think that it isn't.

Appropriate accomodations. All she can think of is a ballroom and a swing. She needs to know what kind of cage this is.

ii. Song

It's dry, and there's light. Lucia Corina drifts over to a reasonably intact chair and sits down, taking off her pack. She carefully takes out her zither, unwrapping the protective oilcloth and checking it over for damage. Once she's satisfied that it survived the rain, she starts absently putting it back in tune, humming and then quietly singing as testing strings slowly turns into a melody.

Music may be particularly fraught when she's been abducted, but she is... what she is. She was taken as a songbird for a reason. She'll always be a musician at the core.

iii. Wildcard

(Up for any other ideas! Feel free to poke me on discord for plotting.)

song

[mamamias]

When Mario hears music begin playing, he immediately gravitates towards the source. Oh!! It's Lucia Corina!! A grin is already stretching across his face as he approaches her, bouncing a little to the tune - whether the tune is lively enough for that or not.

"Hello! I'm glad to see your instrument is okay... what did you call it again?" Despite everything, Mario has never seen a zither in his life.

[luciacorina]

Lucia Corina looks up with an empty smile. It’s always best to be polite to ballgoers. But—no. There are no elves here, she’s not… this isn’t her swing… she blinks hard and shakes her head. “Where… the ship?” The details of the room and its strange denizens filter back into her awareness. It’s the confusing knight, who does seem very nice, if entirely baffling.

She manages to recall what he asked. “A zither. I’m fortunate the water didn’t make it through the oilcloth. I think the wood is probably a little too humid, but it should be able to dry back out without warping or cracking.” Her fingers don’t stop plucking a tune as she speaks. Her instrument, at least, she always knows.

[mamamias]

Mario politely tilts his head at her, waiting until she recognizes him. That faraway look... Peach gets it sometimes, and they don't talk about it, but that doesn't mean Mario doesn't recognize it. "Yes, the ship!" Mario chimes, happily. "You okay?" He wants to be sure.

"A zither, huh! Neat." He whistles a little along with her tune, just a bar or so. "You know, I've-a never seen one before. But I do love music!"

[luciacorina]

A more genuine smile. “I’m as well as may be, under the circumstances. And you?”

“They’re a popular instrument, in my homeland. What sorts of instruments are more popular in yours?” If he loves music, he probably has some idea what it’s made with. His whistling is well in tune with what she’s playing. “I would ask if you had any requests, but I’m afraid I’m unlikely to know any song with which you are familiar.”

[mamamias]

"I feel much better after having a meal, that's for sure!"

Mario laughs. "Oh boy..." The sheer scope, the gap in their technological standards, becomes apparent to him, again. How would he explain something like a drum machine? No, maybe he better pick something else. "There's all sorts of music where I'm from! I wouldn't even know where to start." He taps his chin, head bouncing a little with the music she plays, while he thinks.

"I guess Jazz is-a pretty popular lately... Er, that's a style of music. It uses a lot of trumpets. Piano is also-a pretty popular, at least in the music I like." ABBA, his beloved. "And more traditional music where I'm from will put the voice in the spotlight." He has a soft spot for opera.

[luciacorina]

"It is certainly good to have a hot meal, after the chill of the storm."

As for trumpets... "The... military instrument? They're popular for... recreational music?" How peculiar. "I don't know what a piano is. It sounds like something... quiet?" Sorry, Mario, this was not successfully not confusing.

tfw you google pianos and discover they are like THE most insane instrument to try and describe

[mamamias]

Drat.

And there she goes, concerned about military and wartime again. It baffles Mario, until he remembers that it's not like the Mushroom Kingdom even needs an army, considering it has him.

"Well, sure. If you don't need them for the military anymore, you're gonna have to find something else to do with them!" Is what he assumes that timeline looked like, anyway. He's not exactly a musical history nerd. "They add a certain punch, you know?"

She's never heard of a piano..... "Er. Piano is-a..." Upon trying to describe a piano, Mario has no idea where to start, especially since he is personally most familiar with electric pianos. "You know uh, xylophone? The carved wood or stones that you hit with-a hammers to make notes? Piano is a bit like that, except you can play with just your fingers." There might be something about hammers hitting strings in there, but Mario isn't sure enough about how that works to explain it. He's already bad enough at explaining things as it is.

[luciacorina]

"I suppose punch is certainly something they would add... does one play them indoors?"

Lucia Corina is definitely picturing something closer to a kalimba, but close enough. "I see. There are a great diversity of instruments, in your world?" It's not that there aren't many kinds of instruments in hers, but... she gets the definite sense that Mario's has more. "The music must be interesting indeed."

also song

[highjustice]

"I'm gratified to see that your instrument remained in acceptable condition."

Neuvillette comes by midway through the tuning process, but he stands off to the side until she pauses. He's not particularly knowledgeable about instrumentation, but he's familiar at least with the sound of in-and-out of tune music, as the human ear defines it. Furina does, after all, adore musicals above almost any other play.

oops she’s not quite here

[luciacorina]

Lucia Corina looks up when the man speaks. Tall, handsome, well-dressed— a typical honored guest. Questioning her ability to do her duty. “My performance is unimpaired, my lord.” Her eyes are wide and blank with a touch of fear, nothing like the wry respect he’s seen before. Her hands never falter on the strings, the tune steadily shifting into something rich and compelling and slightly uncanny, with a thread of an urge to dance within it.

writes this tag then realizes he needs a new icon about it

[highjustice]

Neuvillette isn't sure what prompts it, when she was so much more comfortable and confident before, but he does know enough of human emotions to recognize that something Isn't Right.

She wasn't afraid of him before, and surely there is more to fear from a strange man in the dark in an unknown place than there is here, in the light of day, among all these people?

The confusion isn't that obvious on his face, but he carefully draws in a breath and then - ever so gently - places a hand over the strings where she plucks them. "Miss Lucia Corina," he says, tone firm but concerned. "Are you quite well?"

[luciacorina]

Lucia Corina’s hands stutter to a stop on the strings and she blinks in confusion. “My lord? Does my performance displease?” There is no sign of recognition in her eyes, and the fear is growing. “Would you request a different tune?” Why does he know her name? None of the elves care about the name of a pet. “I… do I know you?” The room is strange. Everything is strange. Something isn’t right, but she can’t quite catch it, the plants growing on the floor adding a touch of terrifying familiarity.

[highjustice]

Oh, this is very worrying - and not a circumstance he entirely knows what to do with. Neuvillette takes a brief, almost invisible glance around, but Furina is busy with the oatmeal and he certainly doesn't trust Tartaglia with a potentially delicate situation.

"I cannot claim to go so far, but we did encounter each other during the storm. Do you remember? We discussed its anger at some length."

[luciacorina]

“Storm? There— the Lady never—“ Her eyes clear a little and she blinks again “I— your honor? We’re— it’s not— I’m not there. I escaped?” She’s still uncertain, but almost present.

[highjustice]

"You are not in the place you're remembering." He can't say if she escaped - if this place could even qualify as an escape from anything - but he can say that much with certainty. He does not remove his hand from over the strings. "Come back, Lucia Corina."

[luciacorina]

Lucia Corina stares at him, scraps of memory filtering in. Not blood, but water. Lightning. Anger in the storm. “The ship. We— we’re on the ship. You’re— the Iudex. I’m sorry, your honor, I— lose track sometimes.”

Breakfast Time!

[helborn]

Casper passes a careful gaze over the food, a soft glow lighting up his pant leg for a moment. ... No magic. He isn't surprised, given the seemingly technological nature of the place. He's not sure about any substances in the food, but... he can understand Lucia Corina's hesitation.

He sidles up to her and nods. "There's no enchantment on the food. ... I can tell you're worried about it. But you need to eat to keep your strength up."

So does he, but he's been munching on leaves. Tasty salad. Still, the food here looks a lot more palatable than what he's been eating lately.

[luciacorina]

Lucia Corina startles for a moment, then smiles up at Casper. “It’s not magical at all? You can tell? It didn’t seem likely, but I… I can’t bear to risk being enthralled again.” She appreciates that he checked, and that he’s thought to reassure her about it. “I just figured I’d… I’ve some jerky and things in my pack, that would last me long enough to see if anyone else who ate was acting strange. But a hot meal would not be unwelcome.” She casts a slightly covetous look at the porridge and fruit.

[helborn]

"I can tell. I can detect hidden magic. ... I'm not going to let you get hurt again." Not like that, for certain. And if someone wants to try to take her away then they can expect to be cruising for a bruising.

He puts a careful hand on her shoulder. "... Please take care of yourself, okay?" She's very... alive for a dead person and he's not sure if she can die... so best to treat her like a living person. "We don't know what's out there waiting for us."

[luciacorina]

“…thank you. For checking. I… that makes me feel a lot better about it.” She smiles up at him, then visibly nerves herself and steps forward to pick up a bowl and fill it with porridge and fruit. If Casper says it’s safe, then she trusts that. “I wish I knew what brought us here, and why. The uncertainty is… knowing the expectations, at least, was easy.” Her eyes are full of shadows for a moment, before she shakes them free and steps carefully back to the table where she left her things.

[helborn]

His expression goes soft(er) when her eyes shadow and he taps her on the shoulder. "You're here." He lowers his hand when she 'comes back', grabbing an apple and heading after her. He sits across from her and watches her for a moment, concern in his gaze. But he drops it as she seems to be... okay.

"Honestly though I was supposed to be at a conference so this is at least less boring." Sure there's long stretches of nothing to do but at least he's not getting shoved into manual labor or being yelled at.

[luciacorina]

She’s… mostly steady, right now. Casper being here and protective definitely helps. “A conference? Of what sort?” She’s not quite sure what this signifies in context. “Will you be missed?” She glances away for a moment. “There isn’t much of anyone to miss me.”

[helborn]

"My mother will be upset that I'm not there to represent her interests, but other than that I don't know if anyone will miss me." And his mother being upset isn't the same thing as being missed.

As for what sort of conference... "There's monsters appearing in my world called Titanspawn. They're the uh... well. Spawn of the Titans, ancient enemies of the gods. And it seems like the Titans are getting free."

[luciacorina]

"So your... utility will be missed, but not your person." Lucia Corina grimaces. "You're not a thing to be used."

"Enemies of the gods winning free sounds less than ideal, when you're... related to one?" She thinks he implied as much, anyway. "Are you--targeted?" Are you somehow safer here?