( open ) our ag wing's back and you're gonna be in trouble (hey now! hey now! our ag wing's back)

[initiates]

Date & Time: October 31st, 3313, 11:59PM - November 3rd, 3313, ????
Location: Agriculture Wing, Moon Base to start. Cafeteria, warehouse, docking bay, VR rooms, Transport Pad, or Observatory later on.
Characters: Any & all!
Summary: Space Zombies are allowed out of the Agriculture Wing, slowly revving up their systems to try and infect and absorb as many of the Transports (or 12 Initiative Members) as possible.
Warnings: Log will be locked for potentially graphic violence. Please warn in threads should the violence or gore become graphic.
Notes: Specify a date and location in your top comment. You may specify multiple dates/locations. Specify a time if you wish as well.

Everything is a success at first, from the cool rush of air out of the Agriculture Wing once the doors are fully unlocked, to the heady sense of accomplishment for finally moving forward on something good for the long-term usability of the Moon Base. It's intended to remain a resource, after all, but not be a permanent home. Fraying tempers and the sense of cabin fever descending on Transports continues to showcase how important it is to get back down on Earth to regain some breathing room.

There's little enough dust between all the unmoving, unlit structures, many even supporting the barest dried husks of what once grew there. Upon the lightest touch, they disintegrate, turning into a dust that falls to the ground. The silent rows will be reclaimed and turned into functioning units, based on Transport efforts, and Transport time invested in the project.

There's just one problem. Something stirs in the reclaimed wing, among tangles of hosing and wiring. Skitterings and movements that make no sense for a long abandoned Moon Base. The further in Transports go, relying on magic or technology to generate light past the bare minimum maintained by the base, the more disturbing sights they may run into.

Of course, the most disturbing of all might be lying just around the far corner -- but don't worry, it's only a flesh wound. Try not to get surprised in the machinery, caught suffering from not looking up or caught making out with anything unsavory this holiday season, Transports. We need all of you to stay alive!

We can't bring you back right now!

Comments

[anklets]

[If she needed any more than just the one, she wouldn't have chosen this. Scooping Miranda up does not go as gently as she'd honestly prefer, but let's be honest, here: even the jangle of thin arms and- well, thin everything is kinder than the gnashing, rotting things below, and she'd rather they gnaw on her heels than Miranda's.

You don't get airsick, do you, Miranda?]

[timehalt]

[ Not during heroic rescues, darling. Miranda clutches tight to whatever she can, trying to be as tiny as possible, and also not mortified this has to happen. God, let her not be the reason Lenalee trips up. ]

I'm--I'm not too heavy, am I?

[anklets]

[Lighter than Allen, and that's an issue she'll need to review with utmost seriousness later, hand-in-hand with the persistent application of Thanksgiving dinner.]

N-No!

[Adrenaline is an amazing thing, and with necromorphs carpeting the hall behind, it's in no short supply.]

[timehalt]

[ Lenalee, you're too kind. Miranda wants to help, in any way she can, so she fumbles for her Innocence, trying not to jostle Lenalee too much. ]

Give me--a, a second and I can--

[ She touches her Innocence and pulls. Time Reverse activates in a flood of tiny clocks, healing wounds and giving back whatever energy Lenalee's used up in the past few hours. Miranda can't concentrate enough to give more than that, but every little bit helps, right? ]

[anklets]

[Sucks the colour back into her cheeks, and it's something else completely, still, to be placed under Time Record's effect, not pulling poison from the wounds but pulling the wounds themselves. The tight lines bracketing her mouth relax, a fleeting half-smile.]

Gently, Miranda.

[It's a little much, to watch Miranda whittle herself like this.]

[timehalt]

[ Sssh, just let her do this. For both of their sakes. ]

It's fine, it's fine. I can at least do this.

[anklets]

Just. Gently.

[Anything in the world for that smile to surface from beneath the blanket of happier circumstances. She does not let the woman from her guard until the housing doors have sealed behind them.

Miranda is set on her feet.

And stared at, expectantly.]

[timehalt]

[ She think's she's doing quite well; not too exhausted, maybe a little sleepy, but certainly good enough to keeping going--that is, until being set on her feet makes her brow furrow and her body sway. Maybe give her a moment. She'll be fine in a second, she's sure of it. ]

...Lenalee? What's wrong?

[anklets]

Miranda, [ delicately, ] how long did you say you were out there for?

[timehalt]

In that corner? Ah, only four or five hours.

[anklets]

[Let's face it, this is necessary dismay:] Miranda.

[timehalt]

[ Oh no! Is--is Lenalee angry? But--but she didn't mean to make her angry! ]

I'm--I'm sorry. I just--I didn't know what to do and I couldn't--they kept chasing me and I was--I was really scared and I couldn't think of--I'm sorry! I'm really very sorry!

[anklets]

Miranda...

[She makes up for her earlier bonejangling with the most caring hands coming now to grasp for Miranda's.]

It's alright! I'm not angry. [ brow furrowing ] I just- wish we had our golems here, these tablets are useless.

[timehalt]

I'm sorry.

[ Everything really is her fault, isn't it. ]

I lost mine weeks ago.

[anklets]

[Expression faltering; she means to reassure!] You see? If they were at all like our golems, they'd just find their way right back to us. The Initiative could have done so much better.

[timehalt]

You think so?

[ But you could write things with the tablet thing-y. At least, that's what happened when she'd checked the network... ]

[anklets]

At the very least.

[Guiding Miranda down the corridor, she doesn't need to ask which unit she lives in because she already found out for herself.]

We can live on the moon, but our communications devices are only portable so long as you have a way to hold onto them?

[timehalt]

It--it is a bit silly...

[ But Miranda's can't help a bit of defence for the things. It was her fault for losing her device. ]

But they did have things the golems didn't. And--and I'm sure they've had many things to worry about, it must have just slipped their minds...

[anklets]

Either way, there's nothing for it now, right?

[Flashing a smile! Though her hands are still sweaty and she's careful to keep them to Miranda's sleeve.] We'll find you a replacement just as soon as there's a chance afforded to us.

[timehalt]

Ah, right.

[ Miranda's just glad Lenalee is here and she's not hallucinating. Feeling the physical presence of her hand is better than anything else right now, really. ]

I'm not sure that's a good idea. I'm not...very good with technology here.

[anklets]

It's certainly advanced, isn't it? Everyone back home would be so amazed. I still have a hard time believing it.

[timehalt]

The Science Department would have a field day with it, I think. Though I wonder if they'd get any sleep at all with so many projects to look after.

[anklets]

They always did push themselves too hard.

[timehalt]

Mm, but they never let it overwhelm them. Ah. [ Well, actually... ] Most of the time, at least.

[anklets]

[Herding her into the 200 unit, grateful that she hasn't yet had to employ Matron tactics.]

No. They've never not lifted themselves back to their feet.