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Oct. 28th, 2023 06:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigochildAccess Level: Open to All!
Who: The 13th cycle's lucky contestants...
Broadcast: None (probably)
Action: Marsiva Hospitality Deck
[Years ago, the Hospitality Deck had been the perfect image of gleaming and facelessly-neutral welcome. For a dozen cycles, this was the epitome of the airtight automation that the Drift Fleet was known for. Newcomers were ushered in, tended to, and dealt out to their respective ships like clockwork.
Hundreds and hundreds. Without fail.
Now, instead of being greeted as guests (or, at the very least, beloved lab rats,) there is only the stagnant feeling of error here. For once, this place feels as though it's in agreement with its captives: they aren't supposed to be here.
It's all still clean, but old. Some of the lights on the wall-mounted communication panel are flickering, and a few of the overhead lights are burned out completely. The air smells stale. The massive bay of windows still showcases the looming glory of space and a fleet of smaller ships--but there's a whole swarm of them now, and they float there as half-destroyed flotsam.
The lucky passengers of the Drift Fleet's thirteenth cycle are arriving, but it's hard to tell if anyone in the universe notices.]
Who: The 13th cycle's lucky contestants...
Broadcast: None (probably)
Action: Marsiva Hospitality Deck
[Years ago, the Hospitality Deck had been the perfect image of gleaming and facelessly-neutral welcome. For a dozen cycles, this was the epitome of the airtight automation that the Drift Fleet was known for. Newcomers were ushered in, tended to, and dealt out to their respective ships like clockwork.
Hundreds and hundreds. Without fail.
Now, instead of being greeted as guests (or, at the very least, beloved lab rats,) there is only the stagnant feeling of error here. For once, this place feels as though it's in agreement with its captives: they aren't supposed to be here.
It's all still clean, but old. Some of the lights on the wall-mounted communication panel are flickering, and a few of the overhead lights are burned out completely. The air smells stale. The massive bay of windows still showcases the looming glory of space and a fleet of smaller ships--but there's a whole swarm of them now, and they float there as half-destroyed flotsam.
The lucky passengers of the Drift Fleet's thirteenth cycle are arriving, but it's hard to tell if anyone in the universe notices.]
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