01: I turn this corner, get on this spaceship...

[poetontheinside]

Who: Ray Kowalski
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: 16/4, pre-Shuffle

[A]

[It's not like Ray's graceless-- he's a dancer, right, he can be light on his feet, one-two-three-end-up-in-space, but right now it looks like he's mostly forgotten how to move at all. You can laugh at him (and you could, because in the kerfuffle he's managed to turn on the communicator) but only as soon as you figure out that there's a person underneath the sheer amount of winter clothes currently on the Marsiva. There's a mostly-empty backpack, a hideous parka, a warm (holy shit too warm) middle layer, and a suffocating base core layer. Then there's the hat, the weird-ass circular scarf-thing, two types of gloves, snow boots, sunglasses--


There's some muffled cursing coming from underneath all of this, but eventually there's a frustrated groan and a thump as about half of the aforementioned layers fall to the floor. All through the process, there's muttering.]

Look, Frase, not that I'm callin' you a liar or nothin', but all this time you been bragging about how freakin' cold it gets up North, but I'm kinda disappo-- [He pokes his head out of his last layer, hair mussed, eyes big.]

Fraser?

[B]

[However things get explained to him, he suddenly knows a shit-ton about space. And spaceships. A lot about space ships, actually, so much that his hands get a little itchy. It's weird to be here, without Fraser, when they've spent so much time together since starting his undercover assignment-- especially after they'd left for their Northern Adventure. It makes him feel a little anxious, like he's not sure how to behave without the Mountie at his side.

And when Ray gets anxious, he has to find something to do. So he starts walking around the Marsiva, and he finds things to do-- because he's a Detective, more than anything, and Finding Things Out is his gig, his jam. Specifically, he finds things to take apart, carefully, decisively. With the world of knowledge now inside his head, it all makes sense, and he settles into the work, seeing it, feeling it. It's cool. It's really cool.

The communicator's with him, on a table or on the floor, and despite the whole 'Engineering Augment' thing he keeps turning it off and on accidentally. Feel free to tell him not to take the ship apart.]

Comments

[poetontheinside]

...Uh, okay. Geez. [The sound dies out as he puts the communicator in his pocket (a lot less heavy than his own phone, back home, had been).

It's obvious when he's arrived, since there's the muffled sound of cursing-- impressed, but Jesus Christ crap on a cracker he's in space.

A rustle, and then his voice is clear again.]

Holy shit.

[justamobster]

Like I was sayin', welcome to the fleet. And yeah, we're in fuckin' space.

[poetontheinside]

I was on the freakin' tundra! [This is, obviously, a problem. It was also kind of a vast wasteland but, you know, at least he knew what he was facing, there.]

[justamobster]

Sounds like this's an improvement, yeah? [ It's partially sarcastic. On one hand, space. On another... Dragons don't do well in the cold. Neither is ideal. ] Can prob'ly nix the parka, yeah? Won't do you much good here.

[poetontheinside]

You say that now, but who's givin' me any guarantee I won't wake up tomorrow, back there, in nothin' but this thin layer? I'd be missing the parka, that's for sure. [Arguing over details: the coping method.]

[justamobster]

Does happen. People go home from these kinda places without anyone expectin' it. But s'rare that someone gets the bum rush that quick. But hey, you wanna waddle 'round like a penguin in alla those clothes, s'up to you.

[poetontheinside]

I did say I wanted an adventure, teach me to shut the fuck up about bad ideas like that...

[It's mumbled, as he's clearly talking to himself. It'd be easier to be in denial about this if the evidence weren't right in front of him, plain as day. Or... night, as the case may be.

Eventually, he shakes himself and remembers he was talking to someone. He sounds grim and overwhelmed when he speaks, even if he's still staring out at the stars.]

Anything else I should know?

[justamobster]

Yeah, for one, cameras. [ Ladon doesn't really like acknowledging that part of being here, but he's not going to leave someone new in the lurch. ] We're some kinda entertainment for some folks called Atroma. So best you shower in your skivvies if y'don't want a buncha strangers seein' your business.

For two, you got an augment. S'a thing they go puttin' in your head before you wake up here. No one's had any luck diggin' it out yet. [ He sighs at that, and there's a clicking sound as he goes about lighting a cigarette. ] Good part's it'll teach you how to do useful shit on whatever ship you wind up on. Bad part's it'll keep track of you. No goin' off the grid here.

For three, you'll get assigned a ship soon 'nough. Name's Ladon Ceto, m'the pilot on the Tourist. Welcome t'come split a bottle o' space hooch. Might take the edge off, yeah?

[ Talk about an infodump. Ladon's at least getting good at giving the newbies a run-down. ]

[poetontheinside]

[About halfway through Ladon's explanation there's a little sliding sound, then a thump, as Ray lets himself slide down a wall and sit on the floor. He's still looking out at the stars, half-amazed and half-in shock.

He has a lot of questions, even though some were just answered, but something short-circuited right now and he's working on getting himself back on track. There's just one question, something that comes from deeper inside of him:]

Why me?

[justamobster]

Hell if I know. Place I was stuck at before just pulled people outta their worlds at random, through some rift thingummy. Here, looks like we're gettin' hand-picked by our fuckin' "audience." S'a combination of regular Joes and people outta penny comics here. Ain't noticed any pattern.

[poetontheinside]

So, uh... Space hooch, huh?

[justamobster]

Tastes more like shoe polish than liquor, but it does the job.

[poetontheinside]

[He makes a wordless sound of agreement-- he could obviously use a drink, and doesn't care about what the taste is like] And the, uh, whatchamacallit-- that thing, in your head? We all get it?

[justamobster]

Ain't met anyone yet who don't.

[poetontheinside]

What'd you get?

[justamobster]

Pilot. Can drive the ships and shuttles 'round no problem, so long as I don't think 'bout it too hard.

[poetontheinside]

[He thinks on that for a minute-- excuse him if he's incredibly slow, but it's been a long few... minutes.

He realizes that he's been doing that. As long as he doesn't think about it too hard, there's all this stuff in his head that he doesn't know how it got there. Like, he can look at some of the little doors in the wall, and he just knows how he can use them, what they're good for. And he definitely has never been on anything like this before.]

What uh, what other kinds are there?

[justamobster]

[ Ladon has to think about that for a minute. ] From what I seen... weapons, communicatin', some sorta... science-y one, hell if I know what that does. Then practical shit, like cookin' or fixin' the ship.

[poetontheinside]

Y'think I coulda gotten that last one? I've never seen a thing like this before, but I kinda-- know stuff.

[justamobster]

S'possible. They put 'nough in your head that you can get around if you ain't been in space before. Guess you'll know for sure once you get placed on a ship, yeah?

[poetontheinside]

Yeah. [He groans, and it's obvious that he's heaved himself up again.]

Hey, uh, thanks for-- [there's a frustrated noise as he probably gestures wildly trying to explain what he means, then realizes that Ladon can't actually... see him.] explaining, and all that. I'm Ray. [A beat, as he remembers that he can use his own name again. He's no longer undercover, that's for sure.] Kowalski. Detective Ray Kowalski.

[justamobster]

Detective, huh? [ Welp. Ladon will have to be careful not to let his guard down too far. ] Well then. Good t'meetcha, Ray. Ladon Ceto.

[poetontheinside]

[He's been known to get good hunches, every so often.]

Yeah, Detective. Why? 'S that weird or somethin'?

[justamobster]

Nah. First cop I've met here, s'all.

[poetontheinside]

[He relaxes, obviously satisfied with that explanation.]

What, you don't got uh, space patrol or anything like that?