Rin [SecUnit] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
itdoesntlikeyou) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
themnemosyne2024-10-23 12:25 am
itdoesntlikeyou) wrote in themnemosyne2024-10-23 12:25 am
Log: File_01 Routine Maintenance
CHARACTERS: Rin and OPEN
TIME: Various - around engine fixes
LOCATION: D Level science labs
WARNINGS: tbd
Most of the ship is achingly empty, when Rin takes to pacing the corridors of it. Ten people aren't enough to truly fill a single deck, let alone the entire ship, and it makes the entire place feel haunted. Maybe it's because of the bodies that were found here. Killed where they stood, by the ship's AI. Rin passes a corridor where they'd found one of the desiccated corpses. They'd been fallen in a jumble, like they'd been walking down the corridor when L3TH3 had just...
Rin looks away and continues their not-a-patrol pacing, down towards the lifts.
Sticking each to their specialty areas, the current crew might be able to completely avoid each other, if they so chose. D-Level is bustling, relatively speaking, with the vital work on the Engines, but Rin turns towards the front of the ship, ducking away from the Engineering bays and the fab stations, their wandering taking on a more structured pattern.
The weird thing, they find themself thinking, is that it all smells clean. The cabins, the workspaces, the rec space, the workshops. Everywhere that people live and work, confined… there’s always a faint smell of the detritus of the living. Like dirty sock smell.
They never thought they’d miss it.
A. Aeroponics
The aeroponics garden is a mess. Rack upon rack set up for farming, for gardening, each bundle of roots with a mister for nutrient supply... all of it dead. Brittle stems and crumbling barely-recognizable leaves dot the suspended medium, crumbling to dust practically at a glance.
Rin examines the frames with ill-disguised disgruntlement, walking the rows set up between the sets, occasionally poking and prodding at them. They've put on the faceguard of the PSI-C0R3 mask for the process, as needless as that may be - they make a survey at the nozzles and reservoirs for the nutrient delivery system. Each poke and prod is combined with a glance towards their CL-10 screen, enlarged so they can pull up at least three different diagrams, data tables, and at least one photo of a plant.
One poke results in a decidedly squishy sound, and Rin recoils so fast they nearly slam into the opposite rack set, CL-10 skittering out of their hand and under one of the racks. They stare at it, then decisively scrape their fingers off on the closest frame, getting rid of any residue that might remain. "Who the fuck thought plants on a spaceship was a good idea," they mutter aloud, glaring at the aeroponics setup. "She could have at least vaporized them properly..."
B. The Labs
EXPERIMENT IN PROGRESS. KEEP OUT!
- I mean it, Cornell
The sign is posted on one of the many doors of the science labs, in large letters and underlined for good measure.
Across from it, Rin has found a wall to lean against as they tap a the screen of their CL-10. They're slowly and meticulously updating what looks like an inventory list with their neural interface, but every few minutes their eyes drift upwards, catching on the sign again, and the input slows further. Then they come back to themself and start entering inputs again. The process repeats for a few rounds.
Then they abruptly close the Cl-10's hard light screen and step forward, to open the door.
C. Advanced Computing
This room, Rin has saved for last.
The first sign of their presence comes in the form of sound, drifting down the hallway outside of the R&D space. Voices, and occasionally music, low enough to be audible but not intelligible until the door itself is opened.
Inside, Rin has methodically but definitively taken over the space. A few of the computers out of the row have been marked by leaving a check-mark emoji on their display screens - they’ve taken up in front of the next one, the side of the machine open to reveal its neat tangle of wires and circuitboards as Rin swaps between prodding at these and digging through file lists and log texts, tapping at keys. Occasionally they reference a work-tablet hooked up to the current computer.
The only sign that they’ve been here for a while is a single sealed mug left next to the door, far out of the range of any chance of spilling on anything. That and the source of the sounds drifting down the hall: here in the room, it sounds like an old recording: one of the Earth classics, an old detective story. The recording must be positively ancient, a recording of a recording, with the way the sound quality occasionally crackles.
[OOC: using this as a bit of a catch-all! Rin will be at this for several days, around the lending a hand at fixing the engines. Stat is prose but I'll swap to match.]
TIME: Various - around engine fixes
LOCATION: D Level science labs
WARNINGS: tbd
Most of the ship is achingly empty, when Rin takes to pacing the corridors of it. Ten people aren't enough to truly fill a single deck, let alone the entire ship, and it makes the entire place feel haunted. Maybe it's because of the bodies that were found here. Killed where they stood, by the ship's AI. Rin passes a corridor where they'd found one of the desiccated corpses. They'd been fallen in a jumble, like they'd been walking down the corridor when L3TH3 had just...
Rin looks away and continues their not-a-patrol pacing, down towards the lifts.
Sticking each to their specialty areas, the current crew might be able to completely avoid each other, if they so chose. D-Level is bustling, relatively speaking, with the vital work on the Engines, but Rin turns towards the front of the ship, ducking away from the Engineering bays and the fab stations, their wandering taking on a more structured pattern.
The weird thing, they find themself thinking, is that it all smells clean. The cabins, the workspaces, the rec space, the workshops. Everywhere that people live and work, confined… there’s always a faint smell of the detritus of the living. Like dirty sock smell.
They never thought they’d miss it.
A. Aeroponics
The aeroponics garden is a mess. Rack upon rack set up for farming, for gardening, each bundle of roots with a mister for nutrient supply... all of it dead. Brittle stems and crumbling barely-recognizable leaves dot the suspended medium, crumbling to dust practically at a glance.
Rin examines the frames with ill-disguised disgruntlement, walking the rows set up between the sets, occasionally poking and prodding at them. They've put on the faceguard of the PSI-C0R3 mask for the process, as needless as that may be - they make a survey at the nozzles and reservoirs for the nutrient delivery system. Each poke and prod is combined with a glance towards their CL-10 screen, enlarged so they can pull up at least three different diagrams, data tables, and at least one photo of a plant.
One poke results in a decidedly squishy sound, and Rin recoils so fast they nearly slam into the opposite rack set, CL-10 skittering out of their hand and under one of the racks. They stare at it, then decisively scrape their fingers off on the closest frame, getting rid of any residue that might remain. "Who the fuck thought plants on a spaceship was a good idea," they mutter aloud, glaring at the aeroponics setup. "She could have at least vaporized them properly..."
B. The Labs
EXPERIMENT IN PROGRESS. KEEP OUT!
- I mean it, Cornell
The sign is posted on one of the many doors of the science labs, in large letters and underlined for good measure.
Across from it, Rin has found a wall to lean against as they tap a the screen of their CL-10. They're slowly and meticulously updating what looks like an inventory list with their neural interface, but every few minutes their eyes drift upwards, catching on the sign again, and the input slows further. Then they come back to themself and start entering inputs again. The process repeats for a few rounds.
Then they abruptly close the Cl-10's hard light screen and step forward, to open the door.
C. Advanced Computing
This room, Rin has saved for last.
The first sign of their presence comes in the form of sound, drifting down the hallway outside of the R&D space. Voices, and occasionally music, low enough to be audible but not intelligible until the door itself is opened.
Inside, Rin has methodically but definitively taken over the space. A few of the computers out of the row have been marked by leaving a check-mark emoji on their display screens - they’ve taken up in front of the next one, the side of the machine open to reveal its neat tangle of wires and circuitboards as Rin swaps between prodding at these and digging through file lists and log texts, tapping at keys. Occasionally they reference a work-tablet hooked up to the current computer.
The only sign that they’ve been here for a while is a single sealed mug left next to the door, far out of the range of any chance of spilling on anything. That and the source of the sounds drifting down the hall: here in the room, it sounds like an old recording: one of the Earth classics, an old detective story. The recording must be positively ancient, a recording of a recording, with the way the sound quality occasionally crackles.
[OOC: using this as a bit of a catch-all! Rin will be at this for several days, around the lending a hand at fixing the engines. Stat is prose but I'll swap to match.]