( OPEN ) system zero

[hating]

» WHO? Morgana + anyone who wants to get hit in the face with a communicator
» WHEN? 5/18, you know, around then
» WHERE? deck 6 corridors, observation deck
» WHAT? Morgana wakes up, thinks her communicator is possessed and then yells at the moons (Old Witch Yells At Space)
» WARNINGS? None, but I'll edit accordingly and warn in subject lines if anything comes up!


a; outside level 6 quarters

[ all things considered, this is not where she expected her soul to end up.

the cold, grimy floor of the deck corridor is not so unfamiliar to her that morgana is perplexed. no, it feels like somewhere she was before, and this dim lighting certainly doesn't help. there are key factors missing, and she uses those to ground herself. Don't forget about those things. It is not the same, she tells herself.

far less familiar to the girl is the device that buzzes. it comes alive, and it's looping message is curious. morgana thinks it's just someone speaking directly to her, and upon discovering it is not a person...

...the source of the noise, whatever this curious device is, must go. metal doesn't speak. morgana wastes no time in disposing of it.

by throwing it into the corridor.

you know, with her skeleton hand. there's a redhead with long braids lobbing her communicator down the corridor with such a disdain for the thing, you might think she was doing it for the vine.

hope it doesn't hit you in the face? ]

b; observation deck

[ the other point of offense was that hideous jumpsuit. morgana doesn't have spare clothing, though, so she raids the room she claims as her's, and can be spotted in the observation deck. the sheets off her bed have been pulled free of the mattress and wrapped around her like a cloak, covering most of her body. this is much more appropriate, she thinks - now, if she had a belt and some way to sew sleeves into it...

...but that's not why she's glowering out into space. her expression is hard, steely; she doesn't look particularly approachable. morgana is standing there, arms at her sides, one flesh hand exposed and one skeleton hand peeking out beneath the sheet settled over her shoulders. ]

...And I'm to believe there were two moons all this time? What sort of madman dreams up a world with two moons? I have to say, it's unique, at least.

[ she's calling it stupid. going quiet, the girl stands as still as a statue. she seems unaware anyone is at all present in the room with her...? ]

What are your ears for if not to listen? Decoration? I must say, my dear, I was hoping you might have an opinion on the doubling of that particular celestial body.

Comments

[hating]

Are you an expert in balls?

[ this tag was begging for that. ]

I can see plenty of stars now, so I am not so sure I believe in that.

[potentite]

Depends on the type of ball, ma'am! Ballistics are most up my alley. And, well... um...

[He scrunches his nose, trying to think how to explain.]

I think it only works when you're on a planet? Since we're just floating out here all akimbo in space, the moons can be all... moony.

[hating]

And is that a scientific word?

[ he's so strangely polite to her. it's... different. nostalgic. she watches his scrunch his face up in thought and thinks he's quite innocent; her words are still barbed. ]

I've never read texts dealing with... outer space or anything of the sort. Books were a luxury, a precious tome to be regarding with respect for the person who put all their hard work into it. [ not much reading gets done by peasants. ]

[inwaits]

You lived on your own for so long and never learned?! [ was she living off rice and raw vegetables when she was living in the witch's hut?! somehow, this is super scandalous to giselle. really, it was a little shocking now that she realized they'd never spoken about it. but there were many things they had never talked about. they had grown to have a decent relationship during their time together, but there were certain boundaries giselle knew she couldn't cross, at least at that time. it felt.. nice, to be able to talk with candor. ] Well here, why don't I teach you something quick and simple? How about.. porridge! Let's see..

[ she starts to rummage through the mess hall's stock, only to find that.. it wasn't a great selection. ]

W—What's even going on in here? These storage conditions are bizarre. Hm.. maybe we can't make porridge after all.. [ she starts fingering her way through the stock again, this time with a fine toothed comb. ] Oh! I know what we can do. Grab the garlic for me, please. And I'll just get.. this. [ thankfully, there was vegetable oil and bread that looked fresh enough. she starts spreading the oil on it generously, then tries to find any kind of device that looks like it could produce heat. it takes her a good second, but eventually, they're cooking with gas (or plasma? who knows). ]

[potentite]

Um, 'ballistics' is! 'Moony' is, um, probably not.

[Despite her less than warm attitude, he can't help but be interested in her. Though it would be very rude to ask her about her dead parts. He thinks? He is pretty sure that has to be some sort of faux pas.]

Do you... want to know? Um, not that I'm by any means any sort of scholar. I just read some stuff. So um, if you have any space questions, I could try? Maybe some of grandma's knowledge rubbed off.

[splinten]

Yeah, probably. It kind of sounds like you're saying you're some kind of time traveller though.

[This is cool, and kind of interesting?]

[hating]

You can read it as such, if you wish. I can certainly see why you would think that. For myself, I would clarify it as something only possible because of my will.

[hating]

[ she's taken aback by how easily he offers that.

maybe in another time she would trust like that again. ]

No. I do not.

[ this time, though, she can't. ]

[potentite]

[Somehow, it feels a little like he was just scolded.]

Oh! Um, yeah. [He fidgets with his sleeve, clearing his throat.] Well! Sometimes it's nicer to just look at the stars instead of knowing stuff about them anyway. There's a movie I adore, um... this one character says something like... we never just look at them. The stars. [A beat.] Uh, he said that for a different reason... but it's nice to just look without much else buzzing in your skull sometimes I think.

[hating]

[ truthfully? in some manner of speaking, he was - morgana can't let anyone get close to her. ]

And you have things buzzing around in your skull often enough for you to look at the stars and learn about them? [ the joke is that morgana's voice is so soft and sweet, it's hard to imagine her saying such cruel things. it drops a little, like she's merely curious about how it came to be that way for him. ]

...I don't disagree with you. It's merely that we are perfect strangers, and I'm not the sort to make business with strangers, my dear. Don't take it so harshly.

[potentite]

[The concept makes sense enough for him, so he nods.]

Strangers frighten me, so I understand! But since everyone's in close quarters, I'm um... trying to just... get along I guess.

[He isn't sure if telling her his name will help? He thinks it helps him. But he doesn't know why she doesn't like talking to strangers, so he can't be sure.]

Um, I'm Jake. And... everyone here's pretty lost on everything and most of us are strangers I think. So it's probably a mite... awkward even for people who like that stuff.

[There are. Probably people who like talking to strangers? He won't discount that.]

[splinten]

Which means it isn't that. [There's a pause—a moment that's experimental and curious. He tries reaching out, and—sensing who she is. Sensing her soul.

Jesus fuck, her soul is old.]

What do you mean by your will?

[hating]

[ ...
......
......... ]

I am Morgana.

[ he reminds her so much of giselle... ]

Just because I gave you my name doesn't mean that I am your friend now. I have no true need for such things now. I wouldn't worry too much about those you barely know, Jake, since you have yourself to take care of. Strangers frighten you, and whatnot.

[hating]

It is merely one part of the sum.

Let me answer you with a question of my own. I would rather enjoy hearing your thoughts on the matter, you know. Rather than what is it, I would like to ask... what do you believe it is? Not think. Believe. They are two different things - one is more likely to rot the other from the inside out, as though it were a piece of fruit left in the sun for too long. Always lingering, always present, always filling your heart with dread and hope... So, my dear... what do you believe that means?

[potentite]

[Somewhat flustered, he shakes his head quickly.]

Oh, no no, I wasn't— I wouldn't assume that, no worries.

[He can't imagine anyone wanting to be his friend. Morgana just stating it outright stings but it's nice that she's clear about it at least.]

But um, no, I... Just because they're strangers doesn't mean I can ignore them. They might need help.

[oculusriffs]

Yeah, it’s a pretty sacred ritual on my planet. There are forms to fill out and processing fees and everything.

[Dave knows he’s setting himself up for a potential insulting nickname. but, he’s also curious to see if she plays along? and also, she has an entertaining way of speaking, he wants to hear what else she comes up with.]

[ryuji]

[SHIT FUCK WHAT THE HELL

Beamed, right on the goddamned nose, Ryuji flinches backward, aghast that something had careened right down the hall and landed squarely against his eskimo kisser.

He looks around. More space ghost shit?

Picking it up, he notices that it's a smartwatch, like the one he has on his wrist. Also, it's unregistered. He looks around for the source of the baseball pitcher that just RUINED HIS GODDAMNED AFTERNOON.

Looks like it came from that girl who was chilling on the floor. His eyes lull into a compassion for the vengeance that grows within his heart and types in a few strokes to the communicator, registering a network ID.






@PippiThrowstocking

Approaches her.]

This yours?

[merging]

I mean...

[He gestures to like everything???]

I heard there were people from worlds where humans didn't even have proper plumbing. So there's the refresher for one thing, then the holonet and the comlinks. Space travel in general? The replicators in the mess hall too. Oh, and there's a few droids on board with us?

[wingstosee]

[ morgana's not the first person on the station to react like this. actually, she's probably in the majority? so venus doesn't flinch away from the gaze, as self-conscious as it makes her. she just focuses on what's in front of her - a communicator in front of her, and a woman with a skeleton arm.

sorry, morgana. kind of hard to hide things around someone who has native, 360° vision. ]

Oh my god. I'm sorry! I don't think it's broken, but you should really-

[ she's on her knees on the ground, trying to pick up the smartwatch and check for damage, when morgana's words finally sink in. an angel.

venus doesn't mean to laugh. she especially doesn't mean for it to be as utterly undignified as it comes out- a full laugh stuck in her throat, her free hand flying up to her mouth as her eyes widen and her shoulders shake. oh my god. why does this keep happening?? she waits until the laugh's a bit more undercontrol, and only then does she say- ]

Um. Not exactly? Sort of the opposite, really.

[hating]

Please skip the nickname then and refer to me as Morgana.

[ morticia wasn't too off! maybe morgana was even his next guess?? ]

What planet are you from, my dear?

[hating]

[ she's walking around okay though?!??!!!! ]

...The proper plumbing thing, yes... I can relate. [ in that case, at least she isn't the first to show up without really. know what a toilet is. ]

What is a droid?

[hating]

Unfortunately so, my dear. [ in response to his observation - it is different. ] Though I imagine it is quite far for everyone here... We are all the same as the other, lost in time and space... literally.

My world has nothing in common with your's. I've never heard of such tales... [ mostly. probably. she's not supposed to have heard them, at least. it wouldn't be appropriate. ] Though the sacrifice of one so others may live is nothing new to me.

[hating]

[ ... this really is someone like giselle. it makes her skin crawl. ]

Do you truly believe that strangers deserve your help, my dear? That they are worthy of your time? That they won't turn you at some point? ...Or perhaps you expect something in return.

[hating]

[ there's a lot going on here, and morgana processes it quickly. the thing smacks the boy. the boy picks it up. the boy... uses it?

... her expression is sharp when he approaches, and she seems to close in on herself. ]

I merely woke up with it. I've disowned that thing - I haven't even the faintest clue what it is.

[hating]

Would it suit your taste more if I said I didn't bother to commit to memory? I have had no need for food in centuries, my dear.

[ morgana has been in the kitchen since her death, yes, so to speak. she went where michel went. if anything, his version of "cooking" is more fresh in her mind than anything. boiling everything seemed... sufficient enough...?

garlic is something she remembers, however. unwinding the cap, she inhales the scent. it's pungent, and seems to be... fairly okay. morgana wonders how long this all has been sitting here for several moments before replacing the top, and placing it on the countertop nearest giselle. ]

I'm not used to things like... this. Flavor-wise, I mean - a slice of bread suits me well enough, Giselle.