( 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

[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?

[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.

[ryuji]

[It takes a moment for him to notice the skeleton hand, and his head tilts in a weird sort of... what the fuck else is going to happen on this station sort of way, and gives up trying to make heads or tails of anything. The retreat is noticed though, and he doesn't come any closer than he already is. Ryuji's horrible about personal space bubbles, but not when someone is glaring at him so sternly.

He chocks it up to her probably just waking up in his place.

Welcome to hell, Morgana.]

It's a... uh. Communicator. We're callin' em smartwatches around here though. They let you talk to other people... like a text message.

See, here.

[Types in his own UN (@skull) and sends himself a text from her device.

Hi Ryuji! You're so cool

The coolest

Thanks for helping me back there ;)]

You... you alright? [He sets the device on the floor next to her for her to take back. Don't leave that thing around. His own communicator buzzes with the retrieval of the newest text.]

[hating]

[ she listens intently. it's easy to see with the way her golden gaze focuses on the device as he explains it, and demonstrates it. a communicator, he says, and then instantaneously sends himself a message through the one she'd had strapped on her wrist moments ago. it's incredible; nothing short of terrifying in it's efficiency. ]

...A smart...watch... I see. Because it is... intelligent...

[ she gets the idea, and slowly retrieves her own.

upon reading the message, her expression slips back into disdain, and morgana very sloooooooooowwwwwlllllyyyyyy imitates ryuji, typing out a message: ]

a lack of self awareness is unattractive

[ it like, takes a solid five minutes to send though? he can watch her type it? it's the principal of the thing. ]

It's pointless to ask me such a thing. I will adjust as need be.

[ryuji]

[Oh my god, it's like watching a senior citizen discovering a keyboard for the first time. How long before she figures out the wonderful world of 🍆's and 👏's. It's all the rage these days. Maybe these days. Time is kind of hard to understand when you're presumably millions of light years away from home.

He watches Morgana go through the motions, thinking that there's some hope for kinship here, the blossoming of a beautiful thing, when.







Goddamnit.]

You coulda just told me that.

[Dead eyes her.]

Actually no, don't tell people that to their face.

[hating]

[ this senior citizen is old as balls, but she's still got a radiant smile. when ryuji voices his displeasure, the mask of disinterest cracks. a vibrant smile, like a grinning jack-o-lantern, breaks across morgana's visage. staring at him straight on, she speaks in her soft, lilting voice. ]

A lack of self-awareness is quite unattractive, my dear.

[ the last person who tried to dad her ended up dead!!! ]

[ryuji]

[Okay, that's all cool, emo and evil stuff going on with her expressions and she's definitely probably that black widow type of personality that any rationally minded person should steer far, far away from. But oh man, that web looks exciting, and she.



She just called him dear. Ryuji's smirk is uneven, potentiated by his own ego growing larger than his actually scrawny ass. And just like that, he goes from "dear" to "deer in the headlights".]

I mean.

I, uh.

Can't be all that bad, huh? I'm practically helpin' you figure this space shit out!

[hating]

People say that, but is it really true?

[ morgana raises her hand - the skeleton one, placing the thin, spindly fingers over her lips. she seems to consider her own words, as if wondering if it is true. ]

It's the sort of thing someone with something to hide might say, in order to highlight their supposed good intention. A person who wants for nothing in return for their good deeds might see no need to highlight them. So, tell me.

What is it you want?

[ryuji]

[Man. That skeleton arm probably has a story behind it, and Ryuji absolutely wants to know how it got there and if it's going to wreck havoc on the station or pull out some weirdly super human abilities, and--- Morgana, you're about to get that rude question dropped on you like operation dumbo, but the supposition that he's after something strikes him as a little weird and throws him off guard.

Sure, back home... if someone walked up to him in Shibuya and started propositioning to help him (GOD NOT THOSE TWO OLDER DUDES WHO KEPT FLIRTING WITH HIM, PLEASE ANYTHING BUT THAT???), he'd be apprehensive as hell too. Probably tell them go fuck off. But without the f-word. He's not that derelict.]

Well... yeah. I mean, you'll figure it out soon enough, but there's a bunch of us living up here. Like... maybe close to 100 people? It's a station floating out in space, and. [Okay, maybe that skeleton hand is starting to creep him out a little bit. But it's still kind of cool.]

We... uh.... only really have each other up here, y'know? I'm not looking for anything in return, honest.

But that said. If you want me to leave ya alone, that's cool too, Pippithrowstocking.

[hating]

[ ...

...

a nickname? without even telling her or asking her for her name? morgana could easily have realized this if she'd, you know, looked at the communicator. that said, it's not really a priority for her, most probably unlike the vast majority of the people her age on the ship. he gives her a lot of information, and morgana can only focus on the nickname. ]

...My name isn't.. Pippithrowstocking.

[ she does not supply one, though. that would be easy! ]

[ryuji]

[This is the sort of conversation he can get behind though, since it opened the door and Ryuji peeks his head in, and then throws his body straight into it. It's not like that was a ploy to intentionally get her name, but it works out pretty well.]

Huh. That's not the impression I got.

[Maybe you shouldn't throw your communicator around when certain blond idiots are within bludgeoning range. He smiles, friendly in his demeanor, but it has all the hallmarks of a boy that's too rowdy for his own good. Also, too earnest.]

Soooo.... how about we dispel this crazy illusion thing we have goin' on and you tell me your name?

[hating]

I haven't even the slightest clue of what horrible things you must cook up in that empty hollow of your's called a head.

[ crazy illusion? does he mean her arm? morgana glowers, looking down to the impersonal metal of the floor before she answers. it comes out like even giving him this much information about herself makes her feel ill - and it does. ]

Morgana.

[ryuji]

[Empty... hollow of a head. Ryuji stares at her. Doesn't know whether or not he adores her or hates her.]

...Uhh.... Obviously you can't cook shit up in my brain, because then I'd be dead.

[GOT 'EM.

He does, however, notice the discomfort in speaking about herself, which is fine. Ryuji picks up on it and doesn't press for information like he normally would. The typical stuff. What dimension of the world are you from, how messed up in Earth back where you're from. That sort of thing.]

Good to meet you. I'm Ryuji, by the way.