let's call it a grand opening •

[spaceling]

WHO • everyone
WHERE • deck 2: corridors & mess hall
WHEN • day 1
WHAT • characters arrive
WARNINGS • please warn in the subject headings



[ you wake up on an abandoned spaceship in an unfamiliar quadrant of space, unhurt, but nauseated and dizzy, wearing whatever you were wearing before, with no possessions but what you were carrying with them.

the corridors are dark and grimy, dimly lit by lights that flicker now and then. it's cold enough to see your breath fog up before your face, but artificial gravity and life support seem to be working just fine.

welcome to your new home. ]

Comments

[causae]

[ the man is tense (cassian notices) and handsome (cassian doesn't pay it much mind), but there is no attack, though his fingers curl around the stick in his hand in a way that suggests that it is a weapon no matter how fragile it looks. it isn't until the man offers a smile, strained though it may be, that cassian lifts his own hand away from his blaster. ]

Fine.

[ he is unhurt. beyond that, his well-being doesn't matter. ] Do you know where we are?

[negativechill]

[ gellert's hand relaxes but he doesn't tuck his wand away, just in case. he's not familiar with a blaster but he's seen guns in the past and it's similar enough that it puts him on edge. he could defend against it, but he would rather not have to. ]

Unfortunately no. [ a pause while he considers what to say next. it's unwise to show vulnerability but just as unwise to not know what one is getting into. it's a difficult decision. finally: ] I'm afraid I do not have a frame of context for anything like this in the least.

[ other than the fact that the grey walls scream prison. ]

[causae]

[ the thought of encountering someone not used to space-travel or being on a ship is so unusual that cassian doesn't, at first, consider the possibility that the man in front of him might mean that when he says he has no frame of context for this. that thought only crosses his mind a moment later, pulling his brows into a frown. ]

What do you remember? [ he asks instead of hoping for clarification. he has no intention of trusting anyone, but establishing whether their experiences match up or at least seem to match up is a start toward either working together or determining if this man is lying. he hopes. ]

[negativechill]

[ gellert watches this man with an understandable bit of wariness. despite his questions he definitely seems more comfortable in this kind of space (not out in space, gellert has no reason to think of that yet) if not in this particular situation. ]

I was in my home. [ a brief but honest answer. ] After that, there is a... gap that I do not remember. Then I woke here. I have no idea what happened in between.

[causae]

That is true for me as well.

[ cassian hadn't been home, but the gap, waking up here, that's true enough. he doesn't know if this man is lying or telling the truth, though his wariness suggests that maybe he's as unbalanced as cassian would feel if he let himself. ]

[negativechill]

While it's interesting that our experiences entwine, therein still lies the matter of how it happened and why.

[ he smiles and it's friendly but in some ways unsettling to someone that's very observant. it's not so much that it's totally faked but that it's slightly off. that could be easily explained by confusion and unease, however. ] Have you made any attempts at exploring yet?

[causae]

I've looked around.

[ cassian presses his lips together. he'd like to think that years as an intelligence officer have made him a good judge of character and there's something off about this man. still, he continues: ] So far, I haven't found anything that tells me why I'm here, or how.

[negativechill]

It's a troubling circumstance that I would like to get to the bottom of as quickly as possible. If things continue at my home without me, things are bound to--I suppose the word would be deteriorate.

[ a small frown. ] Many of my friends will be surely put in danger, I mean. I cannot be the only one with that problem.