Ciaphas Cain (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greatlyexaggerated) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
goneawayworld2020-05-16 04:01 pm
greatlyexaggerated) wrote in goneawayworld2020-05-16 04:01 pm
Entry tags:
THE EMPEROR PROTECTS [OPEN]
Who: Cain and OPEN!
What: Technology mishaps, general socializing opportunities, chainsword!
Where: Around the rig. Specifically Training Halls and outside the communal bathrooms.
When: Before the upcoming corporate drone event.
Warnings/Notes: None in particular, but check Cain's permissions. Will match format!
[training area]
[Cain is in the training area holding a ridiculous weapon. It's a sword, if a sword was actually a chainsaw on a stick, and had a mechanical belt of metal teeth running down one side of it. And had a stylized eagle's wing embossed on the side. As well as a small wax seal and strip of parchment...? It looks like it's got significant heft to it, but Cain handles it easily, like an extension of his own arm.]
[He examines every inch of it discretely, not really trusting Jorgmund to have done something funny, but finally thumbs the activation rune when it passes muster. He's in no less conscious danger than he really was a moment ago, of course, but having his trusty weapon in his hand again is a balm to his paranoia.]
[It immediately roars to life and Cain starts running through the complex patterns of attack and defence with his chainsword, years of familiarity meaning that his movements fall into fluid instinct like he's run through the drills a thousand times before. It's almost meditative, the familiar reverberations running up his arm as he thrusts and swipes at thin air. He doesn't quite trust the training droids, and leaves them well alone.]
[Sorry if you're peacefully minding your own business on the other side of the massive hall, it does sound like somebody's just rip-started a lawnmower in here.]
[technology troubles]
[It's 7:50am. Cain is standing close to the entrance to the communal bathrooms, towel slung over his shoulders, sweaty as an ork and just a pale shade away from losing his temper like one. The reason he isn't inside yet is because at some point, his communicator was set to hover in the air and follow him around, and he can't seem to figure out how to make it stop following him.]
[Understandably, he doesn't want to walk into the showers with his communicator and give people the entirely wrong idea. If he can't figure it out soon, he's going to be odoriferous as Jurgen until tomorrow.]
[There's ten minutes until the allotted time to shower is up.]
[Cain, out of desperation, quickly closes his eyes, mutters the Catechism of Activation, and performs the Canticle of Appeasement. In a poor imitation of the tech-priests he'd seen do this, he hammers his fist three times on the same spot.]
[Wildcard!]
[Feel free to catch Cain around the rig, doing whatever! Lemme know if you want to plot out something alternate.]
What: Technology mishaps, general socializing opportunities, chainsword!
Where: Around the rig. Specifically Training Halls and outside the communal bathrooms.
When: Before the upcoming corporate drone event.
Warnings/Notes: None in particular, but check Cain's permissions. Will match format!
[training area]
[Cain is in the training area holding a ridiculous weapon. It's a sword, if a sword was actually a chainsaw on a stick, and had a mechanical belt of metal teeth running down one side of it. And had a stylized eagle's wing embossed on the side. As well as a small wax seal and strip of parchment...? It looks like it's got significant heft to it, but Cain handles it easily, like an extension of his own arm.]
[He examines every inch of it discretely, not really trusting Jorgmund to have done something funny, but finally thumbs the activation rune when it passes muster. He's in no less conscious danger than he really was a moment ago, of course, but having his trusty weapon in his hand again is a balm to his paranoia.]
[It immediately roars to life and Cain starts running through the complex patterns of attack and defence with his chainsword, years of familiarity meaning that his movements fall into fluid instinct like he's run through the drills a thousand times before. It's almost meditative, the familiar reverberations running up his arm as he thrusts and swipes at thin air. He doesn't quite trust the training droids, and leaves them well alone.]
[Sorry if you're peacefully minding your own business on the other side of the massive hall, it does sound like somebody's just rip-started a lawnmower in here.]
[technology troubles]
[It's 7:50am. Cain is standing close to the entrance to the communal bathrooms, towel slung over his shoulders, sweaty as an ork and just a pale shade away from losing his temper like one. The reason he isn't inside yet is because at some point, his communicator was set to hover in the air and follow him around, and he can't seem to figure out how to make it stop following him.]
[Understandably, he doesn't want to walk into the showers with his communicator and give people the entirely wrong idea. If he can't figure it out soon, he's going to be odoriferous as Jurgen until tomorrow.]
[There's ten minutes until the allotted time to shower is up.]
[Cain, out of desperation, quickly closes his eyes, mutters the Catechism of Activation, and performs the Canticle of Appeasement. In a poor imitation of the tech-priests he'd seen do this, he hammers his fist three times on the same spot.]
[Wildcard!]
[Feel free to catch Cain around the rig, doing whatever! Lemme know if you want to plot out something alternate.]
tech
[Nora, dressed fetchingly in two towels, one on her hair and one wrapped around her body, waves as she starts to breeze past Cain on her barefoot and still rather damp way back to her quarters.]
Probably want to turn that off before you hit the showers.
[Yes, Nora, that is the goal here.]
no subject
Yes, that's the intention. Unfortunately, I can't seem to - [thud, thud] get it to stop following me.
[The machine spirit must be very playful. Or clingy. Or spiteful. Maybe he should call it Mira.]
no subject
[With no concern at all for the sentiments of the device's machine spirit, Nora snatches the comm out of the air and pokes at the screen, trying to figure out what Cain's doing wrong.]
These things are such junk, I swear...
[There are a couple of beeps and the screen goes dark. Nora offers it back to him.]
You had it locked in hover mode, it won't sleep that way.
no subject
That's why it must have been misbehaving, I've been keeping it from rest this entire time. No wonder it was furious with me.
[Obviously its sleep was disturbed because of his constant prodding and the spirit was disgruntled with him. Now he feels slightly bad for being a frightfully negligent user. This is why they need a cogboy around.]
no subject
[Nora is looking at him like he's sprouted a second head. Dude, what?]
It's...it's not mad at you. [w h a t] It just won't go into sleep mode because if you've got it on hover you're probably on a call and you don't want it switching off on you.
[He actually seems a little upset about this, so Nora ventures a comforting pat on the arm.]
You didn't break it. They're pretty tough.
[Don't ask her how she knows that or why it involves falling off the climbing wall.]