01 🌝 THE SAMODIVA - Rebel Base [open]

[pillz]

WHO: Members of the anti-government Resistance, refugees, those seeking shelter
WHERE: The Samodiva, a large, dream-built airship that operates as a mobile base for the Resistance
WHEN: Throughout the plot!
WHAT: Open log for the Resistance base, which includes transport, sleeping quarters, intelligence/communications array, small spaces for training, and Medbay/medical services.
WARNINGS: References to war, injury, drug use, etc.

Welcome to the SAMODIVA, the massive, mobile air base run by the Resistance, made and operated by ImPort abilities. When you're aboard, it's hard to imagine anyone could miss it. Though it's bigger on the inside than the outside, it is huge. It is also: white and yellow, a cheery palette that really pops. Fortunately for everyone involved, the ship is also cloaked constantly from external detection as well as armed to some extent for engagement. (But mainly it's supposed to blow itself up.) Tech-savvy and magical ImPorts are constantly upgrading its systems. It spends a lot of time hovering, but you might be a pilot.

The BAR is an incredibly popular site on the ship, and anyone off-duty tends to be found there even in the unlikely possibility they are some kind of teetotaler. People generally mix and serve their own drinks. There's a lot of Pedialyte around too, to offset the possibility of war-interfering hangovers.

The MESS HALL is outfitted with food that draws from a mix of locally sourced produce, grain, meats, and vitamin supplements. With the amount of bleeding people do during this war, the yellow upholstery is a real design mystery. There are two slots both lunch and for dinner; this arm of the Resistance seems to run on caffeine and protein bars for breakfast.

SLEEPING QUARTERS aboard the ship can't house every Resistance member, but considering that there are other vehicles, safehouses, and bases, it makes sense to limit hosting. Each room is outfitted with bedding, seats, and storage; a third have external windows. Refugees and guests are as often aboard as fighters.

Other spaces include: SICKBAY, with a fully operational if limited capacity surgical suite and a full-functioning MRI machine, and beds for several. STORAGE SPACES, ENGINEERING AREA and the FLIGHT DECK are fairly open-access, but it's hard to miss the SURVEILLANCE and SMALL DRONES patrolling the ship regularly.

Comments

[roughworkdone]

Kaz scowls at the answer and it takes everything in him not to knock the tablet out of Joey's hands. His jaw ticks and he leans into his cane as he works on reining in the annoyance and simmering rage. Fine. Victor is well and truly unavailable.

"Needed information, but apparently it will have to wait."

What can Joey Kavinsky do for him?

"You got anything for pain?"

cw drugs

[pillz]

Joey was half-expecting for the yelling to continue, and he wasn't looking forward to it. In its absence, the defensive rigidity of his spine relaxes slightly. He doesn't quite deflate, but something like it. Whoof. Too early to be relieved yet, though.

"Yes. Follow me."

But helpful, he can do. Joey turns around and waves the tablet. He guides Kaz down the hallway toward one of the residential rings. The doors look nearly interchangeable, but Joey finds his own with ease and taps on the security panel. The mechanics read his nanites, his appearance, the biorhythms thumping in his little thumb, and then the door slides open.

Joey steps in. The room is all sorts of shiny yellow and sleek white, of course, because the whole ship is; it is the world's most unsubtle airship. It smells plainly of

"Weed."

Behold, extricated now from the nearby bookcase, without any irony whatsoever: an enormous bong.

[roughworkdone]

"Weed?" Kaz scowls at the meager offering. His hand tightens on his cane as he debates his options. Leave and look somewhere else; stay and just accept that the pain relief will also leave him foggy and useless for a few hours. He doesn't really like either option.

He hates everything.

"Fine," he snaps. "Set it up."

Kaz doesn't really want to relax, but going in search of something harder that will keep him clear-headed might take him off the ship.

[pillz]

Joey makes a slight face at this less than enthusiastic reception to his gracious gifts. But he does proceed to load up, installing the bong on the desk and pulling out a few bags of herb from the counter inside. "Why is it you're like, the princess and the fuckin' pea of normal fucking social transactions? Bruh is trying to do you a solid, and you make that face."

Hopping up, Joey slides his ass to a comfortable stop on the shelf. He holds up the two bags, allowing his knees to skew comfortably aside.

"Mainly sativa in this one," he jiggles one bag. "So it's a little more activating, energizing for most people. And this one is mainly indica." He jiggles the other one. They look nearly identical, really, but Joey seems bigly self-assured -- as one might, when one is the producer of one's own drugs, and it's all magic more than chemistry, anyway.

Jiggle jiggle. Rustle rustle.

"Either way, you'll be sober in a couple of hours, then Victor's probably gonna be free."