SI-5 Log | Entry #CRT024 | Crashlanded

[questionsonly]

WHO: Warren and you
WHAT: Warren's going to do what he does best: get working
WHERE: crashlanded Galley
WHEN: end of August
NOTES: No warnings to begin with. If you'd like a starter, or to plot for something, feel free to ping me on plurk @ yarnzipan

With everything going on on the Galley, all the loses, all the punishments, he's been keeping an eye out for a moment when he could perhaps do his part'; he's a secret agent, but most of those avenues are magical. He can do plenty... but he doesn't have 'powers' like some people that can explode helpfully past the restrictions of this place. However, all that changes when Sariss's last message sends the ship crashlanding into a darkened hellscape.

The boat, and it's Captain, is no longer a problem. Instead, they're down to the really important parts: surviving. Surviving until he can get back to the people who matter. And making sure that the other people here survive too.

His first stop is the kitchens to see what's on hand and what can be stretched. If there's anyone there from the Barge, he'll see if he can convince them to look after the food, to keep things at least nominally under control. The crew mess is next to do the same, and he starts making plans given there's no telling how long the 'electricity' will hold out.

Then he's hunting around the decks to see if he can find his people, Bargizens of all shapes and stripes. He wants to get them collected, wants to get them working together. He knows they know how to do it, unlike these Galley folk who he doesn't trust until he sees some work out of them but he'll happily talk to the Galley folk, Advocate or prisoner who seem keen to band together and work on their survival.

Then it's testing things out, which he'll be interested in doing with any Bargizen (or Galleymate) he trusts, between Advocates and prisoners: can they leave, what's the effects, how safe is it? He himself will be careful venturing outside the ship and given his senses, he'll skip any light source as being more dangerous than it's worth. His first priority, however, is seeking if he can find the materials for clay and possible food sources; shelter seems set for now.

Despite the fact that he's been careful not to show his powers to anyone on board before now, he's as often to be found in fur as on two legs when he heads out on an expedition. He's not seeking out new landscapes and exploring for the hell of it: he's going to be going on supply runs once he finds out sources and asking people to come with him.

One day, he'll tire of being competent. One day. Right now, he doesn't have the luxury.

Comments

crew mess

[gonnaburnitdown]

There's no telling what will happen next so he sent Hei Ye out into the wilds trusting the man will survive whatever the place attempts to throw at him before turning his attention to the food. The kitchen was stocked with basic supplies that could keep so first was to take the fancier food from the crew and move it to the kitchen. He didn't think that anyone would disagree with him - and if he did, well as much as he acted like a simple politician he still was a Zhang. And he was very very tired of playing nice.

He sorted the supplies into two piles and when the door opened he turned, gave a short nod, and motioned to the food.

"We will need to use the easily spoiled food first or preserve it. I know several ways to create hard tack out of the rest if you'll help me move it all to the kitchen?"

Re: crew mess

[questionsonly]

There's not even a discussion, just a nod.

"I probably know how to make something out of the ones you don't," he says as he starts looking at the piles, "and we should have supplies to get some canning done for even the easily spoiled stuff."

A pause.

"Warren. Or Kepler. Whichever works for you."

Re: crew mess

[gonnaburnitdown]

"The fruit can be turned into leather as well," he adds with barely a shrug as he starts emptying out the instant and dried goods setting them in a third pile. "Or pickled."

He finally found some folded boxes and starts putting them together to make it easier to carry the goods.

"Zhang Rishan. I hope you don't take my status against me here."

[badbutsad]

This isn't even the second ship crash Hunter has been in. And after he takes a second to do inventory (no limbs broken, dizzy but no head impact so no concussion, some of the lashes have reopened from the impact but non-urgent) he's out of his room, ignoring the faint groans of an Advocate he's never cared to meet, and making his way through the ship.

His pale hair is a beacon in the gloom, and while he can't see any better than a human in this his pupils still have a faint red cats-eye glow.

[questionsonly]

Warren will call his attention when he sees him; the pale hair is convenient for right now, but given what's all around them, might not be so convenient in the future.

He can smell the blood, but he's going to focus on other things.

"Have you seen anyone else since the crash, Hunter?"

[badbutsad]

That's... Kepler, right? He's rarely interacted with the man but he straightens automatically, ready to report.

"No one yet, I just got out of my room. But I can do a headcount, make sure the remaining Barge residents are all accounted for." There's no pull of emotions in his voice, locked firmly away under the well-practised veneer of survival mode.

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel is not a graceful man at the best of time, but blind in the dark and down one eye that is still distressingly fresh for an empty socket is absolute peak clumsy for him; but a thousand monkeys on a thousand typewriters and all that means he does, somehow, stumble his way onto the deck without dying.

He does, however, immediately faceplant when the deck turns out to be on a different gravity alignment to the stairs he came out of.

[questionsonly]

"Jesus Christ, Eiffel..."

A familiar pair of hands is going to get around his shoulder and start helping him to deal with it. Warren looks a little tumbled, but nowhere near the mess Eiffel's at.

"Good to see you alive, Officer Eiffel."

[littletonoidea]

He doesn't smell great up close; no infections yet, but whatever the inside of an eyeball is made of is seeping steadily into the gauze patch over his eye. And he nearly fights back when Warren grabs him before he recognises his voice.

"--you too, Colonel," he offers, and there's no denying the intensity of relief in his voice, that there's someone here who can actually take charge. All of this is striking a bit too close to home, to not make him skittish as hell. "What's the sitrep so far?"

Look, even Eiffel can function well in a life-or-death situation. He's stepping up whether he realises it or not.

[reformedsinner]

Blind and one-handed, Gonou had been tossed like a rag doll across his room when the Galley crashed: dark bruises are blossoming over his jaw and hidden under his long-sleeved shirt. They're not stopping him from trying to discover what happened.

He goes to the Deck first, trailing his good hand across the wall. Without his eyes, he's limited in what he can learn. But it will be something.

He learns, first, that the Deck is tilted; he has to climb out slowly, adjusting his footing as the world seems to slide sideways, and dig his claws into the first railing he finds.

Warren will find him there, face turned upward so that the algal snow drifts down onto the gauze swathing his eyes, ears flicking restlessly as he tries to understand the strange world he stands in now.

[questionsonly]

If there's one thing he knows about wounded animals, it's to move slow and deliberate and don't assume anything. Surprises are the worst thing.

"Gonou," he says once he's about twenty feet away, "it's Warren. Kepler." He can see what's obvious, but he's going to ask about what's not. "Do you have any other injuries beyond what I'm looking at right now? And have you seen any of the others?"

[reformedsinner]

Gonou doesn't turn his head towards Warren, but his ears go still at the sound of a familiar voice.

After a moment of silence, he decides that he can't possibly pass up a straight line so perfect.

"I'm afraid I haven't seen anyone in a while," he says, and turns around, revealing the gauze wrapped across both of his eyes. One of them, of course, had been missing previously. The other -- well, his missing hand may give away its whereabouts.

"A few bruises from the crash," he adds, tone turning briskly efficient. "Nothing broken. Who have you seen?"

[tarakan]

When the ship crashes, Hilbert immediately makes his way to the Infirmary. He's thankful enough that there isn't currently an Advocate there, but he knows that won't last for long. Still, at the moment he has three goals. One: take account of Infirmary's stock. Two: stash some equipment away for himself before anyone catches him. Three: patch himself up.

All Hilbert knows is that due to the impact, he smacked his head against something hard enough that there's a nasty looking wound at his temple. And if he's wounded, imagine how poorly those already missing an eye or hand might be.

When Kepler enters the Infirmary, Hilbert's succeeded on goal three, is working on goal one, and absolutely isn't going to make goal two. When he spots Kepler, Hilbert pauses, gives him a nod, then goes back about his business. "Most of the medicine seems intact. Few bottles are broken and one piece of equipment is trashed, but triage is doable."

He doesn't like Kepler and Kepler doesn't like him. But hopefully Kepler feels the same way as Hilbert: now isn't the time for petty dislikes or distinctions. Now is the time for all hands on deck.

[questionsonly]

He'll get the answer from the gruff nod that he gets from Kepler; they can bitch over chess games when there isn't injured people and a mess to clean up before they figure out how to survive.

...that doesn't mean he isn't watching Hilbert. But it's priority two instead of priority one.

"I didn't get to inventory properly before we crashed; let's get an inventory and-" He pauses. "...would someone else's hands work better than yours right now? I've worked as a field medic before."

[tarakan]

Hilbert shakes his head. "I have already done triage on the Galley," Hilbert explains. A wry little smile plays on his face before he points out, "Others simply have not realized it. I can do this."

This is easy. This is good. Detach yourself from your thoughts, detach yourself from worries, just do what you can.

[power_of_yes]

John had been at the Oars when the ship crashed, and, nursing a sore head and arm, manages to break from the rusty chains and crawl out. His Advicate is nowhere to be seen, which is fortunate, so he manages to slip away in the confusion.

He all but stumbles into Warren, grabbing onto his sleeve like a literal lifeline.

[questionsonly]

And Warren will swing his other arm around to wrap around John.

"Steady," he says quietly, "we're alive. We're crashed but we're alive. We'll get through this."

[power_of_yes]

"I know," he assures him, catching his balance and straightening up. He puts a hand to his bruised and aching head. "Has anyone been outside yet?"

Deck

[major_rawne]

Rawne's up on deck, staring out into the darkness. If he was an Advocate, he'd be gone already, out exploring things. But he's not, so he's just watching. Wanting. Hating that something that looks so very like freedom is still out of his grasp.

Re: Deck

[questionsonly]

"Keeping watch?"

There's not many people that he trusts to be up here, out here, but Rawne's got military experience, at least.

Re: Deck

[major_rawne]

Rawne looks over at him. "More or less. If I could, I'd be out there. But I'd sound the alarm if something started coming at us."

supply run

[blindmanforhire]

Hei Xaizi was not one to sit idly by when he can get something but he also wasn't one who would go out of his way unless he was paid to do so. Which meant that he was outside in the darkness because he was getting paid, and paid well by his current standards by the Fuguan Zhang to explore. And while it was refreshing to finally not be blind by all the light in the ship, the landscape reminded him too much of the South King tomb.

At least there weren't any shibie underfoot.

After fighting and killing one of the creatures in the dark he headed back to the Galley, dragging his kill behind him. So Warren would see him coming out of the dark, eyes covered by dark glasses, hair straggling into his eyes and a dead beast behind him.

"Yo! Wanna see if it's poisonous to eat?"

Re: supply run

[questionsonly]

That gets a firm nod.

"I'd also love to hear about how fast they tend to be, how they behaved, and if you went after it or if it went after you."

[deuceoftears]

Jedao is locked in during the crash, but the instant his mothsense returns he trips the lock and heads up to the deck. He shudders as he emerges, feeling the solid weight of a real, whole planet, the deep gravity well right beneath them. And out there - the shapes of the rolling dunes, the strange gradations of density between silt and sand and - whatever those things are. He heads for the railing, leaning out, trying to pull himself over it but somehow prevented.

[questionsonly]

"Hoooold up, friend," and the voice is steady and even. He's not trying to stop him, since it's clear he doesn't have to. But he doesn't want him panicking at being stopped.

"You know what's out there?"

It's his first question, before anything.