Ricki Tarr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rickitikitarr) wrote2015-03-08 10:47 am
rickitikitarr) wrote2015-03-08 10:47 am
1. video
[Ricki Tarr, latest inmate arrival, is still getting his feet under him. He's been on board for a little while now, but let's face it, he's a field agent from the 1970s, getting used to graphical user interfaces of his messenger has put up a bit of a roadblock in terms of his making contact.
By the time he's confident enough with the flimsy, cheeping little device to make a video post, his stomach is growling, so the very first message is a simple video shot.
It's poorly framed, he has no real idea of how to centre himself in the lens, and the light in his room is dark and low and terrible for any sort of filming. But from the dark, what's visible of his half-in-the-frame expression is still and steady;]
The first living creature to orbit the earth was a little Russian mongrel named Laika. She was a pretty thing, with a clever cast to her eyes and pricked up, pointed ears. On the fourtieth anniversary of the Bolshevik revolution they flung the little thing into the sky.
In fact, the Russians had been launching dogs into suborbital flights for a few years before, but none attained the notoriety or captured the imaginations of the world like little Laika. I was rather young when she was sent to space, but recall thinking the entire proceedings terribly inhumane.
The Soviets say that she was euthanized before her oxygen ran out. The British and Americans question whether that is true. The Russians question whether that questioning is deliberately spread propaganda meant to make them seem monstrous. In the time since, I think both sides have lost track of the original truth of the matter. But the question of her ultimate cause of death aside, I wondered whether she might be hungry, thirsty or afraid, uncomprehending of how it was possible to see stars all around her... I actually can't recall reading whether Sputnik 2 was like this ship, with windows or not. Laika may not have seen stars spinning in the sky, but I'm sure the sounds and sudden lack of gravity must have been rather frightening for such a little dog.
[His voice is low and steady, the pictures his paints are matter-of-fact and vivid. He accent is an odd, old one, London tempered by a childhood racing through Penang streets and other colonial holds. He takes his time with the story before concluding;]
Which is all to say, given the apparent flexibility of space and time on this vessel, if we see her while we're out here, I must simply insist that we make a stop.
By the time he's confident enough with the flimsy, cheeping little device to make a video post, his stomach is growling, so the very first message is a simple video shot.
It's poorly framed, he has no real idea of how to centre himself in the lens, and the light in his room is dark and low and terrible for any sort of filming. But from the dark, what's visible of his half-in-the-frame expression is still and steady;]
The first living creature to orbit the earth was a little Russian mongrel named Laika. She was a pretty thing, with a clever cast to her eyes and pricked up, pointed ears. On the fourtieth anniversary of the Bolshevik revolution they flung the little thing into the sky.
In fact, the Russians had been launching dogs into suborbital flights for a few years before, but none attained the notoriety or captured the imaginations of the world like little Laika. I was rather young when she was sent to space, but recall thinking the entire proceedings terribly inhumane.
The Soviets say that she was euthanized before her oxygen ran out. The British and Americans question whether that is true. The Russians question whether that questioning is deliberately spread propaganda meant to make them seem monstrous. In the time since, I think both sides have lost track of the original truth of the matter. But the question of her ultimate cause of death aside, I wondered whether she might be hungry, thirsty or afraid, uncomprehending of how it was possible to see stars all around her... I actually can't recall reading whether Sputnik 2 was like this ship, with windows or not. Laika may not have seen stars spinning in the sky, but I'm sure the sounds and sudden lack of gravity must have been rather frightening for such a little dog.
[His voice is low and steady, the pictures his paints are matter-of-fact and vivid. He accent is an odd, old one, London tempered by a childhood racing through Penang streets and other colonial holds. He takes his time with the story before concluding;]
Which is all to say, given the apparent flexibility of space and time on this vessel, if we see her while we're out here, I must simply insist that we make a stop.
[video]
His accent is pure Dublin Irish, his face... probably a little jarring, to someone still used to the wholly human: he is very obviously and unabashedly undead, his face bloodless, eyes white. Despite that, his expression is warm, voice friendly.]
Welcome aboard, Ricki. Are you settling in okay?
[video]
Surviving, thanks. You've got the best of me, I'm afraid-?
[Curious about his name.]
[video]
It seems like the welcome wagon got to you before I did, but I thought I'd see if you had any other questions...? They tend to come up in a place like this. Especially for the recently deceased.
[video]
[There's always something.]
[video]
[video]
[He admits, with a nod. Everyone has their own take on the situation, after all, and he's going to have to go back through this footage all from the beginning tomorrow and possibly again the day afterwards, but hearing this part from the start will do him good.]
[video]
[As friendly as Simon has been so far, this question is delivered with pure cynicism. His mouth twists skeptically.]
Basically, for better or worse, every so often something hits us and things... change. Sometimes things -- the surroundings, I mean -- and sometimes us.
[video]
[A rueful laugh.]
You're right, I suppose hoping that it will suddenly begin to if someone can just explain it properly is actually absurdly wishful thinking.
[video]
...Marginally.
[video]
[Is his comprehension thus far.]
My first question is where in heaven's name did these figures come from? They're shockingly specific.
[video]
As far as I know, I think she -- the one who wrote it up -- actually did the calculations. Recorded every incident, averaged it out.
[video]
Takes all sorts, I suppose.
Well, my most pertinent question, then, is when are we next due?
[video]
[video]
Just a warden assignation to contend with before then, and any flooding, I suppose. A nice slow start.
[video]
Re: [video]
You all must get dreadfully used to orienting the newcomers, but I do appreciate it.
[video]
Besides, I'll admit that I'm a little biased -- I don't manage to get to all the newcomers.
[video]
[Reassuring him, because he hardly minds.]
[video]
I do try to talk to as many of the inmates as I can. I know most of you don't look like I do, but at least that means you can believe me when I say that I know how jarring it can be to wake up and realize that you've died.
[video]
But now that it's on the table he looks closer, and sucks in a curious breath through his teeth.]
That a product of this place as well?
[Not quite willing to slow down and think about himself in those terms quite yet.]
[video]
We had a Rising in my world. One hundred and fifty thousand chosen from among the recently deceased to return from the grave and live again among the people.
I'm not ashamed to say that it was the best thing that could have happened to me.
[video]
[Shaking himself.]
I'm sorry, I'm sure I'm being utterly tactless. I've just never imagined such a thing, let alone thought it possible.
[video]
More unimaginable than Purgatory in the heart of outer space?
[video]
[At least as. He can't help but picture his own dead rising, the people from home.]
I'm sure the ability to experience shock will burn out soon.
[video]
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