[Rage at the Eclipse] - The First Phase [Applications now Open again!]

"Thank you," Chroma bows. "I am Chroma. Welcome to the crew."

While they traded questions and answers, yet another biped hurried over from the airlock, another latecomer to the group. The gathered aspirants collectively groaned.

"I'm Shotgun Jones, and yes! I say the teal lady, the Tauroc, and...THAT ONE!" he shouted to the lady who ran up. "You're all great!"

He then looked to the mooks.

"And I'd say...you...you...you...you...and you...you too..." he said, looking over six mooks as well.

"Hey what the fuck." said a mook that wasnt picked.

Mnestia, entirely out of breath, looked over the room confusedly.

"...Wasn't there. Going to be an interview? Or something?"

"I ain't the sole authority, but I like the look of you!" Jones said. "You've got good energy! All nine of you! Now, tell us your names."

"Interviews are merely a microcosm of your true self," Chroma says plainly. "In addition to your names, I would like your pronouns too. Just for courtesy's sake."

"One more key question!" said Wilnarr with a grin. "Any of you know who I am?"

"Strange process, but... sure!" Mnestia walked closer, cloak billowing dramatically. "I am Mnestia Laona, thaumatologist, occultist, archaeologist... and mercenary, I guess, if you care about that more! But then again, it seems like showing up nearly on time was the only qualification needed..."

She paced back and forth as she spoke, unable to stand still for very long at all. "Nonetheless! I have found the pronouns 'she' and 'her' to my liking! And I'm afraid that I have no idea who any of you are. Could you enlighten me on that front?"

"Does anyone watch holovids anymore?"grumbled Wilnarr. "Do you at least know the difference between a Terclitian songbird and a microphone muffler?"

"Well, I can assume that one is a bird, and one is... not a bird? Unless the names are intentionally misleading, of course!"

"Alright, that'll do," said Wilnarr, grudgingly. "Better than my sound crew that one time on Terclitius. Poor little fluffy thing was just sitting on a pole for a second and they started waving it around. You're on the team!"

Zigrund roared Zigrundly.

Gunda smiles at being hired.

"Excellent, excellent! One moment while I grab my pod."

She goes out for a minute to lug a large case on a pallet over.

"Some assembly required but once it's all together it'll let me do delicate exterior repairs on your ship."

"Thank you, Mnestia," she bows to the shapeshifter. "My name is Chroma Steel. I am what you call. A xenodoctor."

Chroma helps Gunda with whatever she's doing.

"So, what does either birds or knowing about film crews matter for running a ship?" Lucy asked. "And why is everyone magic? God! Least we're filling out the ladies side of things, and maybe one of them can magic food out of thin air." Lucy, resident skeptic to the practicalities of magic. "Gunda I agree with, but I guess we can't afford to say no anyway. Shall we show this batch the ship and give them a chance to either duck out or figure out what we need to fix the damn thing?"

"I... may know a ritual for such a thing. You would be surprised what you can accomplish with the thaumaturgical arts!" Mnestia strikes a bit of a pose, her tone of voice worryingly approaching a Dr. Orpheus sort of inflection.

"...But," she continues, returning to a more reasonable stance, "I also know how to fix things. Maybe not permanently, but quickly. If that's more of what you're looking for."

The technomage gives a polite bow to Chroma.

“I’m Elmas. Any pronouns you would like to give me, I’m more than happy with. Keep them the same, change them up, create brand new ones - anything you please, friend. Most biobeings seem to default to feminine ones. I myself am simply glad to be given a window into how folks perceive me. What, perchance, are the pronouns of you and your crew?”

They rise from the bow and push a pair of spectacles up their nose, grinning excitedly. “If there’s another magimancer hereabouts, my excitement has increased onehundred fold! So much to learn, so much to see... excuse me, but does your ship have WiFi capabilities?”

"Not sure! Regardless, far as I'm concerned, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, and you all have hire votes from me," Shotgun said, referring to Elmas, Mnestia, and Gunda. "Our ship is a rundown pile of crap and desperately needs love and attention."

"Hey whose in charge here again?" asked a mechanic approaching the crew at the interview table, instead of a data slate he was looking through an old fashioned clipboard with actual synth paper on it, he even used a pen. Weirdo.

"Him." Lucy says, jabbing a thumb at Wilnarr. "There a problem, cause we need to show people about."

"Oh no problem just wanted to get youse guis to clear up on what exactly youse wants us to do with the ship." the mechanic said, still looking down at his clipboard, flipping a sheet and turning to Wilnarr. "Is youse in charge here?"

"Nobody's in charge here, don't think," Shotgun told him. "And uh...what are the options? Did you finish checking it out?"

Wilnarr grins at clipboard man. "Yes my man, what do you want?"

Lucy snatched the clipboard off the guy and ran her eyes down the sheet. "Okay, we need people who can unpack and work with Schrön loops, I can handle that, problems with the Soletta screens with dust and lack of good cleaning supplies, the Farcasters need fine-tuning and recalibrated to the Vulcan Microminds, 3rd generation brands. The MDA is full of viruses and low-grade porn. The Quantum Reasoning Computer suffers from ennui and depression because some muppet plugged in the Fuzzy Logic Thinker while it was turned up to max settings. And the coffee machine won't make espresso, not can't, won't. That's page 1."