[MISSION: HYRYPIA] the moon drops one or two feathers into the field

[isorropia]

CHARACTERS: Everyone
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :055
SUMMARY: Two veteran hosts arrive on the Station and a mandatory meeting is called. It's time to prepare for a new mission.
WARNINGS: Just chill dudes having a chill time. (Will add warnings as necessary)


I. THE SHIP.
((closed to one thread with a maximum of two player characters; first come, first serve; please don't nab this if you want to play an AFTERMATH prompt and vice versa))

[Early in the day, one of the hangar's platforms rotates upward into place. On it sits a long, bird beak shaped ship. For a moment it has all the appearance of being held together with little more than hope and a prayer. Its nose panels are scorched from the punching in and out of atmosphere and its wings have a rugged, rudimentary sweep to them. Then the illusion melts away and the ship becomes fundamentally concrete, though no less strange as it twists into a shape more closely resembling some complex origami. From it comes two hosts, both in elaborately layered stiff edged garments that cloak them from neck to knee.]

Double time, darling.

[The pale alien flashes a broad grin at her comrade as she vaults from the cockpit to the hangar floor. Her partner, hood thrown back and his scarves unwound to reveal short, tawny fur and two sets of small horns, tosses two bags down after her then follows her down.

The ship seals itself after them like a fan folding closed.]

II. MENTAL LINK.

[There is a strange, unfamiliar voice in your mind. It comes without a greeting and without the polite request for attention, but rather like a voice over an intercom, curt and low:]

( Hosts will report to the briefing room in- ) [the measurement of time that filters into your mind is not quite numbers, untethered by the standards of one people, but the meaning of it is clear- approximately 15 minutes] ( You have received the mission info on your personal databank. Proceed to the location upon review. )

[There is no invitation to continued conversation, but there is the impression of a location, one which you are unfamiliar with. The space it occupies pressed into your mind like a seal into hot wax. You can find it. You know it.]

III. BRIEFING.
((thread jacking encouraged for this - speedier back and forths seem like the funnest way to accomplish a group meeting; tag order will be treated cavalierly at best in any group threads!))

[Not far from the hangar deck, the corridors curve and then abruptly dead end at a circular room with a series of tiered benches seemingly carved from the Station's structure. Is this where you meant to be? Well, the voice had seemed like it wasn’t optional.

At the center of the small briefing room sit two Hosts. The first, a tall narrow alien with long pointed ears and solid green eyes sits straight with military precision, facing forward and not moving except to breath. The second, a pale alien with fringe touched by gold and dark lip lacquer is sitting in a spindly chair and aggressively typing on her tablet. She's shed her elaborate outerwear for one of the Station's bodysuits. She doesn't look up for a long time.

Eventually once everyone is seated, Rhan folds her databank up into a cube, sets it on the pedestal beside her and strokes along its side to trigger a projection of glittering gossamer images into the dim room's center.]

Let's get down to business, shall we? Hopefully you've all done your homework, [She arches an eyebrow, flashing a quick grin] --so the nuts and bolts won't be shocking. But Siva'co and I wanted to go over a few particulars before we take you all on this charming little adventure. Namely this one:

[She taps the side of the cube with her finger with a click of her long fingernail. The briefing report sent to the hosts earlier scrolls rapidly to the line '--one of these major diplomatic factions is believed to have been infiltrated by 'Enemy' agents.'.]

Now we've worked rather hard for the last year in this universe and we both would be very unhappy for all that effort to go down the drain just because someone thinks they'd like to be a hero. Isn't that right, Siva'co? I don't know how much contact you've had with our good friends out there, but let's be clear about this: if the Enemy becomes aware of our presence on this planet, this mission will be aborted. They'll get whatever they want out of this universe and, most importantly, some of us will die while running with our tails between our legs.

[Rhan tips her head to her partner.]

How do you feel about getting killed by someone with ideals, Siva'co?

[There is a long pause before he answers- and it is difficult to read his face exactly, but he seems somewhat exasperated.] Whatever the source of the failure, to die for reason other than the success of the mission is not acceptable. All must fulfill their roles with focus and dedication in order to see victory. Foolishness will not be tolerated.

[Rhan looks back to the assembled Hosts, cheerful smile unflagging.]

Questions?

IV. AFTERMATH.
((each prompt limited to one thread, first come first serve; please don't pull one of these if you nabbed THE SHIP prompt and vice versa.))

SIVA'CO.
[Regardless of the fact that the meeting is complete, Siva’co does not immediately leave. Rather a) he waits, stiff backed and formal by the door as Host’s filter out, not particularly inviting conversation but not fleeing, either. When the last host has left the room, he is found b) in the Training Wing, working his way through a number of the exercise machines with a single-minded focus, breathing heavily through his noses, hooved feet silent on the treadmill and the foam mats.

RHAN.
[After the briefing sessions, someone quick on their feet might manage to catch Rhan a) in the corridor leading from the briefing room. But you'll have to be very quick as she clearly has things to do and is shortly swallowed up by the labyrinthine corridors of the Station's interior. Some time later, she appears b) in the library, making space to shelve a series of small leatherbound books. Rhan flips open each one to check the label on the first page as she takes them from the open bag at her feet. The bag itself appears to be stuffed with…. well, stuff in addition to the books.]

Comments

[isorropia]

[She laughs again, louder this time. Oh Karn, that someone back home could hear such a question asked of her. Her reputation would be in shambles.]

Well I don't know about you, but I don't usually make a habit of wearing enough clothes for six or seven people. Unfortunately, I also don't usually make a habit of getting myself killed if it can be avoided. But I suppose if that's old fashioned, I'll just have to live with it.

[Badum ch. She's hilarious.]

Do you come from somewhere where you're dressed like this all the time? [She pats one of the stacks of cloth, all intricately stitched brocade and layers of stiffened silks.] Or are you really so unadventurous that you don't even want to try it?

[inflori]

[ Petre scrunches up his nose, trying to decide if she's answering a different question, or if she's just following through with an assumed behavior, and making fun of him. Hmm.

Too dumb to tell. ]

Of course I don't wear this. It'd be easier to wear a fat-suit and do like - some sumo wrestling. Do you even know what that is?

[isorropia]

I'm very good with context clues. [She flashes him a quick smile and a well timed eyebrow quirk.] I guess I just don't see what the big deal is. If you don't wear this junk every day, isn't it a little exciting? I don't know about you darling, but I find there's something appealing about pretending to be someone else entirely.

[She lifts up one of the heavy cloaks and holds it before her, draping it across her shoulder. All right, perhaps one criticism: these rich earth tones really aren't her color, are they?]

[inflori]

It'd be exciting if it didn't look like it's gonna make me trip all over myself.

[ Complaining is included in the Petre package, yes. ]

I pretend to be someone else all the time. Didn't you hear about what we did on the last mission?

[ He crosses his arms, tipping his chin up. There are memories of pretending to be a huge purple lobster alien wearing too many bright colors, slipping through the anticipation of having a reputation. ]

[isorropia]

I don't know - did you hear what we did on ours?

[She smiles at him, one eyebrow arched high and something decidedly cheeky in the upward tilt of her chin. See? She can be a petty little brat too.]

[inflori]

[ Has he met his superior, ironic and frilly match? Petre seems to think so - or, at least, seems to be undecided on whether she should be competition at all. If nothing else, she's engaging in this conversation, which helps him not back down. ]

-- no. But it's not like we were the ones who came to your ship.

[isorropia]

[There's that laugh again, clear like a bell and humming through her frills.] Your ship? [Like it's the funniest thing she's heard all day.] My mistake, I didn't know my tenant rights had been revoked.

[She's still chuckling, but waves away the whole dick measuring element of this conversation with an easy motion of the hand. Nevermind all that. Back to the interesting part:]

No, you know I can't say I've heard much of anything about you or your little army here. Just as I imagine you haven't heard much about me or my little cell either. So why don't you tell me all about it, hm?

[inflori]

[ When it comes to causing laughter, Petre is either surprised that his jokes are the source, flippant when he's the only one amused, or irritated when he's the only one that's not. Being called out on the spot doesn't fly over too well, either, thus taking his attention away from alien features to curse a familiar attitude. ]

Right. Like I'm supposed to believe you're actually asking. [ She's established herself as a know-it-all, man. ] You can stop making fun of me now.

[isorropia]

Oh, but I am actually. Really, I'm very curious. [Know-it-alls really must ask questions if they're to continue knowing it all, right? And despite the light, airy tone she certainly seems serious - and expectant as she folding the cloak back up over her arm and sets it back down into the pile she pulled it from.

She can't help it that he's so hard-nosed about being a little shit heel that it comes back around to be entertaining.]

Honestly, I'd like to know absolutely everything about your friends as well. Beyond the part where they apparently all have very strong opinions about blowing planets up.

[inflori]

[ Here comes the unexpected fourth option: someone else makes him laugh about things third parties are doing.

With a snort: ] Right. That sure was fucking precious. I like how they bitched at me when I said I'd just eat the guy from the other mission to get it over with.

[ Arms crossed, he adjusts his posture. ]

So yeah, they're a bunch of idiots and hypocrites. They'll probably end up blowing up the planet on accident anyway. So maybe you should make sure you're not on it when they do.

[isorropia]

Noted.

[The second point is easy enough to take in stride - certainly he isn't telling her anything she doesn't already suspect might be true in regards to the other hosts and how broad the possibility of things going terribly wrong is-, but my - that first one? The part about eating someone?

Isn't that interesting. And revolting, but that's neither here nor there.

Rhan cheerfully resumes building out her piles of supplies.]

I can't say that's a particularly common taste, though. I suspect cannibalism gets an eyebrow raise in most company, really.

[It's not actually cannibalism - unless they were on a planet full of humans or a carbon copy of where Petre had come from, but really it's a far more elegant way of saying 'eating cognizant beings is pretty whack, dude'.]

[inflori]

Well. [ Petre twists his nose with the thought of an argument he's used before, but no one really seems to agree with. Is actually cannibalism? ] That last dude was an alien, so I don't see why they were so hung up about it.

[ At which point he regards her with the same thought in mind. Not whether he should (could) eat Rhan... just if that would be considered cannibalism. After all, she does look pretty whack herself. But in a cool way. ]

What do you eat? [ Hmm. ] Shrimp?

[isorropia]

I suspect it's more the part where you're eating a thinking, feeling, logic-capable individual. But it's just a guess.

[There's no judgement there whatsoever - at least it doesn't sound like it -; it's merely an observation.]

My diet consists of a little bit of whatever someone decides to serve to me. I'm not picky.

[Though humanoid flesh isn't really her thing. Officially.]

[inflori]

So you're like those people who can't eat animals if they can see their eyes. Or if they're cute.

[ Wowowow. ]

Yeah? Somehow I thought you'd have some super fancy, high-maintenance diet.

[isorropia]

Not exactly. I'm a person who can't eat something they've had a conversation with a moment ago. Call it a weakness of mine.

[Besides, there are plenty of cognizant aliens who don't have eyes and aren't terribly cute. She's not sure she'd want to eat any of them either. Rhan draws a large box down off one of the equipment tables, popping the latches and levering it open. Ah, there. From it she begins to pull out binoculars, stuffing them under her arm so she can distribute them.]

My digestive system isn't particularly happy with red meat so I try to avoid it. But in general my people have evolved away from needing to only eat things that live or grow in the ocean. [She gives him a sly sidelong look.] Don't think I've forgotten about this 'being other people' note, by the way. Feel free to explain that one whenever you like.

[inflori]

It's not like I talk to the people I eat, either.

[ He does. Sometimes. Just not long enough to give a shit about them, and/or long enough to decide they're a waste of oxygen in need of a better purpose.

Taking a few more steps closer, now at an actual position to feel some ease, Petre starts to pick up random items for closer inspection. He'd be lying if he said a couple of them don't look cool, even if he could do without the rest. Like, 99% of the rest. ]

What? Oh. Yeah, I can shape-shift into anyone. [ He flicks two fingers at his head, carelessly. ] It's my symbiote's thing. What's yours?

[isorropia]

Well isn't that handy.

[It sounds like she means it. Very useful - the concept of having another face at their disposal. Particularly if it means they have a man on the inside who doesn't have to be swaddled in cloaks and robes, so obviously a part of their delegation. Nothing says undercover like literally looking exactly that the being you're meant to be.

Rhan begins to deposit a set of binoculars on each pile of folded fabrics.]

Me? I'm a screamer. [Wiiiink.] Busted eardrums. Sonic vibration. The whole kit and kaboodle. It's very dramatic.