ss_noanga | Arrival #4

For the Crew

Between one blink and the next, the crew find themselves drawn back to the bridge, perhaps for the first time, perhaps not. It is a feeling, a pull, a tug; it doesn't matter how, only that they are there to witness the flash of light, the hint of a portal on the floor (it fades between blinks), the ragged breathing of two fae in their ears, and a word related to the ship stolen from their minds to be replaced with another: 'Noanga'.

Not that the crew has time to question Navi-No about this: they have new faces to deal with.

And... they too have a 'gift', again. It's the same as the new arrivals.

(OOC Note: The word is mod determined and part of the mystery of the Noanga.)

New Arrivals

You remember giggles, a touch of the faerie, the glimpse of a glimpse of figures, and the faint, indescribable words whispered in your ear. Then, between one blink and the next, you stand alongside others who share the same confused or alarmed look as you stare out at the spacious area before you. The area is the intact, gleamingly sleek bridge of a spaceship straight out of science-fiction, complete with holographic viewport taking over one wall, while gathered people mill about, including a giant robotic griffon-dragon some 23' at the shoulder.

Something tells you this is the only truly functional area to be found on the ship. That these people are the only people on the ship.

There is a weight on your dominant wrist: a fancy gold bangle that cannot be removed by any means. While it isn’t a brand, it does feel like a mark of something, and soon enough you notice that each bangle has one large jewel. Each jewel is one of three colours. Heliodor Green, Spinel Purple, and Zircon Blue.

Finally, you see a somewhat friendly looking AI hovering before you. It dips then does a delighted twirl with another dip at the end.

"Greetings, Invited! I am the Ship's Pilot, a Navigational Artificial Vector Interface – Noanga's Operator. Call me Navi-No of the Noanga." The mechanised voice is distinctly that of a generic British Butler and about as chipper. "It looks like you're trying to figure things out. I'd be delighted to provide assistance: I see you're all sporting some rather fetching bangles. Are you perhaps wondering about those?"

No. Not a Space Butler. It's Space Clip-It given a body, and, as you will very soon discover, about as accurate as Chat-GPT is.

And it's your (armed) pilot.

And, you also notice a that you are wearing, over your existing clothes, some strange, glittery, ice-cream themed woolen jumper you don't recall putting on. It's actually really fluffy and perfectly warm!

Oh, and you have some kind of pendant around your neck. The stone is your favourite colour.

Claim quarters

The first order of business is survival. Or at least finding a room for yourself. Luckily, there's plenty to pick from! Big and small, shaped for creatures who once measured from a child-sized three feet to titans towering at forty. Some rooms remain intact, dim but liveable. Others are half-eaten by dereliction: doors jammed, walls bowed inward, ventilation systems coughing dust. To claim room is to gamble: Will you risk wandering deep into the forgotten corridors or skirt the truly derelict zones for something grander, or settle for what’s close and known?

Exploring the Noanga

Once, the Noanga must have been a marvel of engineering and technology. Once. But now it's now it is a semi-derelict thing that travels the stars while some strange life clings and renders it somehow still liveable, though the Bangles will beep warnings when a character strays from the liveable sections.

The ship smells faintly of ozone, rust, and the synthetic tang of recycled air. Everything feels lived-in yet long abandoned.

Yet despite its state, there's lots to do and find, even without being able to get into the engines or control the bridge.

Chose Your Own Horror

Maybe you want to go deeper into the ship!

The deeper you go, the more likely you’ll encounter unstable gravity, radiation leaks, or things that have made themselves at home during the long years. Ignore the Bangle's warnings and wander too far into the dereliction, and they will shriek. The oxygen mix is wrong, the temperature too low, or the gravity plates stutter, leaving pockets of crushing or weightless voids.

Or worse.

Note: Anything found within the danger zones will not follow characters back into the safe areas. It's almost like they can't...

Perfect.... Ice-cream??????

SOMEHOW, the only thing the replicators wish to serve for the next few days is ice-cream themed anything. It tastes just like home - like a parent or guardian got it for you, but that is probably just your imagination and nothing to worry about. Everything's fine.

Ice cream makes things better and it's not weird at all that it tastes like home. Stop poking the replicator. It won't help.

... It's probably best you don't think too hard about this. That you just enjoy it.

Veterans of the Noanga will know that things are Very Likely Not Fine, more so when Navi-No shrugs and answers in ice-themed puns that don't answer anything outside end you on a wild chase across the ship that ends in you finding a Special Rock that you now just have to keep on your person.

Wooly Mayhem!

Wool. Wool. Wooly wooly wool. There's bales of it around the ship, but not all of it wants to stay in the bales. Some has somehow spread all over the place. In your hair, in your food. On the walls. In your rooms. Especially in your rooms.

In the aquarium?!? Though, now it's just a sad soggy mess that needs to be repeatedly fished out. Best to toss that out an airlock or something.

It's like someone unleashed a wool bomb on the ship. Or... maybe there are sheep? There seems to be faint baa'ing now and again and it's coming from... your rooms?

Oh. And there's also hay bales, too. Lots, and lots of hay bales.

((Note: there are no real sheep, at least. Unless you really want a real sheep and all that entails?)

Make your own location.

What it says on the tin! Want a gym? Pools? Indoor rock climbing? Sure! Go for it! The skies the limit.

code bases by tricklet

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Things Niko did not expect to see -]

How come you get a myuu?

[Niko, making Good First Impressions already by being a whinging baby? Yes, yes they are.

Also their shadow has eyes. And it's colder around them. It's fine. Check.]

[Morgan's first reaction isn't to react to what's said, nor double-take what looks like Viridian's leader or someone that could be his sibling, it's to notice the chill and the shadow. Tell-tale signs of a Gengar lurking. A deadly predator that has taken many a trainer's life, saying nothing to the dangers of the full-grown Gengar, which takes exponentially more lives yearly. But she doesn't shudder, showing fear to one would be a death sentence.

But she should probably stop staring at that shadow in the eyes, and instead looks at the individual in front of her.]

I have a license to own her, is why.

[Equally good impressions by a rather direct response with a slight side-eye. One must be licensed to handle one of these god-like species, after all.]

... License?

[Niko scoffs, but it's more confusion than disbelief.]

What stupid way to say caretake. You don't own god-species. No-one does.

[For all they have a lugia, they don't own Rian anymore than Kris owns her suicune.]

Anyway, didn't know the Sakurai had a myuu...

Arrival #4

Arrival!

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