Calibration Post 1, "Daytime"

[thespaceopera]

[ Not long after the shuffle, there's a ripple of static over the network - loud, sudden, and seemingly with no origin. It's puzzling, but there's no indication that it's going to happen again...

Until a minute later. Another surge of static comes in over the speakers, and then a voice - one some may find familiar, though not necessarily welcome, after all of this time... It's Diamond. Long time no speak, hmm?

Clearly, not all is well. She sounds very far away, for one. For another, she sounds... skeptical, almost alarmed. There may actually be real concern in her voice. ]

Again? Twice in one c--

[ Her sentence is cut short with a strangled gasp, followed by a moment of silence. What follows may be the sound of metal dragged across metal, but it's hard to place. When she speaks again, it's uncharacteristically monotonous. ]

... Bring them in.

[ A blip of lost time passes right after those words, before every passenger mysteriously wakes alone in their own unfamiliar room. The style of decor resembles that of the Marsiva's Hospitality Deck, if any passengers should remember what that's like. It sounds and smells the same as the host ship as well, all clean and chrome, but this set of rooms has only been used once, and for the very same purpose that befalls the fleet contestants now.

As for their hosts, there is no immediate sign of them, though some may recall a series of hideous, half-electronic screams before their memories begin to blur upon arrival...

Welcome back to the Marsiva, dear passengers. It's time for round two of calibrations. ]

[ This mingle will cover all non-calibration room interactions. Please continue to come back to it for the duration of the plot! You are, of course, free to post any other mingles/posts/etc. that you'd like. ]

Comments

[darksmokerising]

[She's missing her clothes. Like. Her clothes. Whatever she's wearing? Yeah...not her's. At least they fit. At least she's wearing something. The blanket is pushed away and Merlan's on her feet and boldly striding out into the hall. Yeah. She's gonna be really loud right now.]

Where the hell are my clothes, why do I have a door with my name on it, and what the fuck is up with the clothes I am wearing?

[She scowls at nothing in particular and leans against the doorway, muttering under her breath.]

Aw, c'mon, mates, I don't even get my smokes? What is wrong with people's sense of common decency?

[collegedropout]

Hey, hey, inside voice.

[The tall fella wandering through the halls. Their rooms aren't anywhere near each other, probably, since their names are alphabetically far apart — but hey, he just wanted to go make a real breakfast while he had a chance; that crap in the fridges almost looks like bacon. If you squint sideways.

He looks sympathetic, though. He's not really one to sass and look it, like Dean.]

I'm, uh... guessing by the questions you've only been awake for — a minute? Two?

[darksmokerising]

Hit the ground running, I guess. [Merlan nods slowly and drops her volume back down to a very much quieter normal. Inside voice, right. Which means they're inside...somewhere. She wrinkles her nose a little] Habit. And yeah. A minute sounds about right. The last time I woke up somewhere weird shit went south pretty fast, mate.

[Okay. Right, nothing is attacking her, this is good. Her shields up and not being assaulted by anything abnormal, so she can let go of the fight or flight. She does take a moment to sag a little against the doorway.]

This isn't Kansas and you're definitely not Toto. So, what? [She spreads her hands a little and squints up at him. Way up.] Trickster? Djinn? African dream root shit?

[collegedropout]

... Definitely not Kansas, no...

[He'd know, since he lives there. But anyway.

His eyebrows just slowly raise as she carries on, and... um. Huh. Buzzwords, hello.]

None of the above, actually.

... Ever been kidnapped to another universe?

[darksmokerising]

[Merlan gives it a real long minute, racing through lore and some of the craziest bullshit she's come across, lets out a long resigned sigh, and pinches the bridge of her nose.]

Well, shit. [She drops her hand and just shakes her head.] So much for that job near Dingo. A Mutjinga, a buncha missing kids. If I don't check in I guess Aunt Lillian'll get to it, but seriously?

[She holds up a hand and goes for maybe another hot moment. Maybe two. The bottle in her room, well, that's not something to waste. The hell if she's touching that yet just for some sense to get knocked back into her. He gets another long look and then she's settled.]

Yeah. Okay. Another universe. [She squints a little.] Big question is, does this other universe have tea in a real cup?

[collegedropout]

[Lord child, slow the roll -- Sam can only take in so much before he wags his hands, a "whoa whoa" gesture.]

Wait a second here -- a little more caution, throwing hunting around, huh? Cups can wait.[He sighs out of his nose; alright, so maybe someone from his universe. He doesn't recognize her, but the accent gives him a clue why. Question is, how hard will it be to change her ingrained way of thinking here?] I mean, it's obvious you're one, but we've -- uh, got non-humans on board, and you're going to get yourself in trouble out the gate.

[This ain't my first rodeo.]

[darksmokerising]

Look, if something's doing no harm, I'm not gonna knife up even if I had one. That's [she waves a little and gives him a weird look] a stupid way going about it. Wow, I am not cool with the stabbing everything.

[She points down the hall to where he was headed.]

So, cups. [He's really, really, freaking tall. Lord have mercy.]

I mean, new universe just got dropped on my head. And you're a Hunter so, drinks, food, discussion of shit. And no hunting, Cowboy, message received. Also. Psychic, so, lots to talk about. Like, why is America so goddamn stabby?

[collegedropout]

Uh, it's not that you'd stab them; it's that you're mentioning that you hunt creatures they might frequent bars with...

They're not gonna just assume you won't-- [... She really is a chatty hunter, too. And full of her own concerning assumptions. It reminds him a little too much of Britain's kind of -- scholars. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Okay, cool. Hunter and psychic. Got it.] Why are people outside of America so eager to tell us how stabby we are while they also like to stab things? Come on.

[Seriously. First British Men of Letters, now Australia.]

[darksmokerising]

Here, now, sure. And [Okay, she actually looks really hurt at the assumption.] I don't enjoy stabbing things. But for all intents and purposes, that's all I hear about America. Doesn't mean it applies to you or a handful who don't. All I know is what I hear and the Hunters I gotta stop from killing the wrong shit. There's a balance I gotta keep.

[Merlan kinda shrinks back into herself, half eyeing him like he might bite. She's not even trying to read him because it's shit manners. But he sure did a good job taking wind out of her sails. The next time she speaks, it's pretty quiet.]

I'd rather be getting another degree than hunting anything. Learning about things is better than any of the things I've had to do. You Hunt. You should get it. Maybe to everyone else out there I'm just a science nerd trying rack up as many degrees as I can between road trips with my auntie. That's what it should be.

[collegedropout]

[Jeez, he's only just met her and she's going a mile a second.

Sam might be a little more social than he was back home, but he's feeling a little trouble navigating this one.]

Okay, well. Now you know how I feel.

Relax a second.

[Because he can't seriously keep up with all this.]

... How about I just point you to the kitchen, huh? One thing at a time? You can ask me about, y'know. Whatever this place is.

[darksmokerising]

...sorry. I'm a little. Freaked out. World view just took a serious header. [Breathing is good. One thing at a time. God. There's too many things going on in her head and she's babbling. She's been babbling. Lillian would have smacked her upside the head.]

Yeah, okay. I can do that. I don't...people well. I do creatures better and books even more so. [No hunt, no focus, nervous energy leaking everywhere. He's right, she needs to collect her shit because this is really not presenting a good impression. What if her molecules like explode? No, pressurised atmosphere equals a safe environment. It's fine. Nothing is killing her, nothing is hunting her, and there is no reason for this stupid panic mode.]

I'm steadier with cup of tea in my hand, I promise.

[collegedropout]

Hey, I get it. It's a lot to take in. [It's easy to get all caught up in this and short-circuit. So he'll just — give her a second to get situated, patient.] I'm not exactly the most graceful guy around, but I've gotten good enough at people to say you're gonna be alright; deep breaths, and all that.

[He smiles a little, offering a hand to shake.]

Um. Name's Sam. American. Ecstatic about stabbing.

I have to do it at least five times a day or I melt.

[What? He can tease, you totally deserved a jab.]

[darksmokerising]

Hi Sam. Like on the door, Merlan. [She grins at him broadly and winks.] So, I assume you live in a fridge, you know, for the days you might melt?

[[She baulks at the handshake a little and holds up a finger before opening the door and ducking back in and waving him in behind her.]

Um. Handshakes are good. Just, um. Help me find a pair of gloves? Pretty sure they were the tan ones, leather, like driving gloves.

[torsion]

[ Jill has a similar mind for being salty about all this, but she luckily managed to find some of her belongings in the lockers. Of course, it's minus anything she might need to defend herself which naturally makes her all the more cranky in addition to you know. The whole multiversal kidnapping thing or whatever this is, but if someone things that she's going to be their entertainment, then they've got a completely different thing coming to them -- whenever she gets her hands on them, anyway.

She's wandering the halls with no particular destination in mind since she's not familiarized with the location as of yet. It's frustrating her, but she manages to look bordering neutral about it all. Considering how she'd left her room and all the names on the doors, it shouldn't surprise her when someone pops out of a room a little ahead of her, but it still manages to. Jill picks up the pace a little when the woman steps out further and upon approach, raises her hands up halfway, a wordless no trouble here in combination with a shrug of her own. ]

Hell if I know. Haven't been here too long myself, all I know is I don't like any of this.

[ And she wants her damn weapons back. She's had that Beretta for what? Close to fifteen years now. ]

[darksmokerising]

I just kind of bolted out of my room, sorry. Ah...yeah, talk about rude awakenings. What did they do, have me in some sort of meat locker before this?

[She can be the sea for a little while until shit starts to make sense.]

Did you find any of your clothes? Or your belongings?

[torsion]

Considering the situation, it's understandable. But... you know, I could do without the visual of being herds of space cattle.

[ It's a highly specific visual, at that. One she'd rather not live again. Rows upon countless rows of cryogenic chambers lined against the walls, floor to floor, too many; a blur. He'd caught her before she could fall to her knees. It was more of an insult than letting her writhe against the cool metal, desperate for air to fill her lungs.

She doesn't like any of this. Dissimilar but impossible to brush aside. But she shows no indication of this, just readjusts her baseball cap with an angled wrist so her eyes are better seen. ]

Just clothing, I'm afraid. I found mine in the room, but can't say if it'll be the same for you. [ She carefully raises her hand like she's surrendering, but pulls out the only personal item she has that isn't clothing or an empty holster and holds it out: her BSAA ID. It has both the acronym and the full title (Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance), that it's the North American Branch, she's a Special Operations Agent, her full name (Jill Valentine), ID number, and her clearance level on it -- as well as a photo where they seemed to deem it appropriate to allow her to wear her hat. ] I don't mind heading in with you, if you're worried.

[darksmokerising]

I guess that's not the best of images.

[Merlan looks apologetic and more than a little wry before thumbing at her nameplate.]

Well, I'm Merlan and honestly, I'd be delighted for the backup. I probably should warn you, I babble when I'm nervous. You can blame my father for that.

[torsion]

Well, here's hoping we don't meet a space butcher, then. We can hightail it if that's the case.

[ She's always thankful for backup, regardless of what their ability or skill level might be. This isn't a BSAA mission, though, and whether she's civilian or not is irrelevant. She just hopes that this isn't any more of a trap -- a trap where you're already trapped. Cute. ]

Hey, I'm Jill. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Merlan. [ She retracts the ID, hoping she got a good luck at it but uncertain if it at all matters or offers any kind of consolation to her nerves. After all, she's ill-equipped for a real all-out battle, if it came to it. ] No biggie, I make inappropriate jokes when I'm under stress.

[ See: space butcher. Either way, she gestures back toward the other woman's room. ]

After you.

[darksmokerising]

Nice to meet you, too. [She lifts her chin a little before nodding.]

Sure and don't worry about it. It's alright. [She laughs, even if it's more than a bit nervous and turns toward the door. Pushing the touch panel is as weird as it was a minute ago. As far as quarters go, it's pretty spartan and Merlan feels kind of stupid the moment she walks back in.

She can see now that some of her things are actually here. Like by the bed on the nightstand, there's her clove cigarettes, her consecrated silver arc lighter, and on the shelf is her Hunter journal and her uncle's pen. And the Glenlivet is on its side next the to journal.]

Well. Solved the riddle of the cigarettes.

[torsion]

[ She smiles friendly but light, just faint enough that it can be caught. Jill has some experience with touch panels, though none of this level of technology; she'd like to dig at it and try to take it apart whenever she's able to. Now doesn't seem terribly appropriate, though. First and foremost, she's more interested in this place.

Jill shows no indication of being judgemental about her fight or flight instincts. It was a natural, if not safer reaction to get out of your surroundings than to curiously dig around. Though she's curious what else might be missing, she keeps her eyes more on the walls for the sake of considering Merlan's privacy. Head tilted up as she looks toward the ceiling then slow, occasional glances in her direction. ]

Never hurts to have a Watson around. [ Meaning herself. ] Glad you've found some things, at least. I'll, ah -- [ She lifts a hand, fingers pressed tight as she makes a circular motion. More to indicate taking a step outside than just a literal looking away. ] -- if you want to change, I mean.

[darksmokerising]

[She rummages around until she finds pants and gives Jill a whatever you want to do shrug. But really? Quick-change pants is kind of something she does well. Once that's done, she decides she's just going to throw her light jacket over the tank she'd been wearing.

It's lighter and cleaner and feels better once she has all of her items save the bottle of whisky on her. Her baggie of weed is missing, so are the rolling papers and she knows she'll have to just deal.]

I don't usually have a Watson, mate, so that's a positive on my day so far.

[torsion]

[ Well, it's nice that someone is so open, but she does a little two had raise and turns her back to Merlan with a a tight smile. Jill's clothes take a little longer to whip on since they're all compression gear, designed to work while she's on the move, but her civilian clothing is good ol' yoga pants and whatever shirt she can put on.

This is well enough for now.

She waits for indication of the change before turning back around, hanging out against the door frame. ]

Well, if it's any consolation, I'm not usually the Watson. [ It's not even an apt comparison, really. She's more a John McClane type -- just one that works well with others. ] Here's hoping there's more positives for us along the way. I'm gonna give this place a look-see, if you'd care to join me? Figure there's gotta be something here that'll leave me a little less clueless... right?

[ Jill doesn't sound so sure about that. ]

[darksmokerising]

[She looked pleased as she pulls on a pair of tan leather driving gloves and smiles.]

Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I think getting ourselves some positives will brighten the day. Maybe a cup of tea along the way.

[torsion]

[ The accent is familiar and draws her attention in; if not from the same place, then a version of somewhere in her world. It's a bit of a comfort. Jill's voice is neutral and mild, her accent northern; pinpointed as northeast or Canadian with ease. Her eyes are drawn to the gloves -- not the kind people typically wear unless they're being used. She doesn't ask what for, though. Her own are soft and black, fingerless for ease of use mostly when she's doing a little lockpicking but it also felt a little more on point when you pulled a trigger and didn't have to worry about fabric. ]

Here's hoping there's tea. [ She's more a coffee gal when it comes to caffeine, but for pleasure tea's not bad. Starting off out of the room and down the hall, she gazes at each name engraved along the way in an attempt to commit them to memory. ] I mean, I'd say we're taking all of this in stride, considering.

[ To put it mildly. ]

[darksmokerising]

I had my moment. Hell, I'm still having my moment. [She lets out a long sigh and gestures toward the door and, well, everything outside.]

I feel better with my gloves, though. Kinda naked without them, you know? Tea will help, too, if and when we find it.

So. [She gestures with a soft laugh as they walk down the corridor.] This is a spaceship, mm, in space? Makes me want to find a window or something. Honestly, the fact that it's cold is actually what I was expecting.