LexiLestrange4167
Space Cadet
Hello everyone! You can call me Lexi (35 yo she/her). It's great to meet you and thanks for clicking onto my thread!
Sci-Fi Horror is one of my absolute favorite genres of media and I am craving a RP with these vibes. I am feeling a story set in space; maybe a close confines situation on a space station/craft of some sort, mixed with some mysterious planet exploration. I love a good dash of corporate corruption and conspiracy in my sci-fi horror. I am craving a human-centered story in which humanity knows that alien life exists and deep space travel has been well established. However, extra-terrestrial life is mostly a mystery and only 'non-intelligent' micro-organisms have been discovered. Keen to make our crew the first to discover a smart, predatory being!
I do not have a ton of rules. My only non-negotiable is that I will not write with minors - this is not a writing skill issue on the part of the minor but a comfort issue on my side since I am in my mid-30s. I also really want a writing partner who enjoys planning and talking ooc about our story. Also, patience, please! I have a really stressful job in a stressful industry, so my posting frequency can vary- I will always let a partner know if it will take longer than two weeks to reply to a story post (I am usually more active than that).
I am a literate writer who enjoys a good, long post but I also love mixing up post lengths for action and dialogue-heavy scenes. I love having a cast of NPC characters to flesh out the world that my partner and I can both design and control. I am always open to doubling, but also happy to focus on one POV character with a nice cast of NPCs.
I love playing both male and female characters and do mxf or fxf [cis, trans, and nb!] ships. Not into alien species pairings, sorry!
Lastly, I am happy to create our own universe or set it in a pre-existing universe (ALIEN!! DEAD SPACE!!) but with all OCs and an au.
I've included a writing sample below so you can see if you think we'd vibe! You can send me one if you'd like but I am happy to trust your judgement if you think we'd make compatible partners based on my sample.
Vibes: morally gray; teamwork for survival; body horror; close quarters; isolation; [seemingly] uninhabited planet; corporate conspiracy; divided loyalties; picked off one-by-one; apex predator; clashes between science and security officers
Seyama-Meyers Corporation Headquarters: November 14, 2230
âThree weeks, six days, fifteen hours, five minutes and thirty secondsâŠâ Stellan stated, eyes scanning the impassive faces across the table. âThat is the amount of time that has passed since Proxima Centauri b went dark. No communications, no signals, not even as much as an automated emergency alert⊠From a colony of more than 1,000 people⊠It has been three weeks, six days, fifteen hours, five minutes and-â Stellan pulled his sleeve back methodically, and flicked his gaze to his watch and then back up to the corporate board â-53 seconds since I informed Mr. Takagi of the gravitational anomaly that emanated from this area at precisely the same time. And it has been three weeks and five days since I submitted my fieldwork proposal to Mr. Lucas. I havenât received as much as a confirmation of submission.â
The eyes across the table remained impassive, unreadable. The boardroom was pregnant with an indiscernible tension. Stellan would be damned if they expected him to fill the silence.
ââŠWe received your proposal, Dr. Blomqvist.â It was Takagi that broke the silence. As soon as this bureaucratic dismissal passed his lips, the quiet sterility reigned once more. Mr. Lucas subtly pivoted his head to make the briefest of eye contact with Mr. Moyes, who reciprocated in turn. Stellan bristled.
âYou simply do not realize the implications of this anomaly...â Stellan rose abruptly from his chair, sending it skittering backwards. He tapped the digital screen mounted on the wall behind him awake. The Seyama-Meyer corporate logo flashed across the screen; he grimaced at the sight of it. âLights, 20 percent,â as the room darkened, he pulled up a map of the Alpha Centauri binary system on the screen. Stellan stood slightly to the side of the screen, the model of the planetary system throwing technicolor across his pale visage. âLook at this. HereâŠâ Stellan circled the planet labeled Proxima Centauri b with his finger, and a thin red line trailed his touch. âProxima Centauri b, perfectly normalâŠâ Stellan double-tapped the screen, and the celestial bodies started moving. ââŠ.until nowâŠâ a sharp pulse emanated from the center of the planet, sending ripples into space far beyond it. Still marveling at this phenomena himself, Stellan played it over again, watching it for what had to be the thousandth time in the past few weeks. 'What the hell is happening here?'
Stellan looked back at his managersâ faces, which were barely visible in the dark save for Mr. Moyesâ glasses reflecting the screenâs light back at him.
âLights, 100%âŠâ As the room brightened, the corporate boardâs faces were still unreadable, save for the tinge of impatience from Moyes. 'Why canât they see the significance of this?!'Stellan cleared his throat, deciding to take a different tack.
âIf my models are correct, what we just witnessed here was an incredibly accelerated process of gravitational collapse, occurring at the heart of Proxima Centauri b.â Stellan rested his palms on the table, leaning forward. The steel was cold beneath his hands.
âDr., save the academics for your lecture circuit. Why does this matter?â Mr. Moyes finally spoke, his voice cutting like a knife. Stellan felt a spike of hot anger pass through him, but Mr. Takagi thankfully spoke before he could.
âMr. MoyesâŠâ His voice was level. âWe do not employ the worldâs leading scientists to stymie their research. Go on, Dr. Blomqvist. But please do get to the point.â
âThank youâŠâ Stellan gave Moyes a hard look before continuing. 'If any of you morons even skimmed my proposal, you would know why this matters.' âThis event matters because, simply put, it should have been impossible. Do you realize what the end product of gravitational collapse is?â
Takagi did not move his eyes from Stellan, but Moyes rolled his while Lucas peered at the other two to see their responses. 'Of course not â all they care about is the corporationâs bottom line. How ironic that all research proposals must first be backed by idiots who have probably never taken a basic science class in their lives. Maybe I shouldnât have left academia⊠One of my freshman could have answered that.'
âThe end product of gravitational collapse is a black hole. Total, all-consuming, nearly infinite destruction,â Stellan spoke each word as a staccato for emphasis. âThe unending collapse of matter into itself - into its smallest point. What about this picture does not add up?â Stellan set the video to a loop, with the pulse emanating out from the planet, and back in, over and over. 'Besides the fact that only stars have been known to collapse, but best not muddy the water'.
âThe planet is still there.â 'Top of the class, Mr. LucasâŠ'
âYes. Despite this absolutely immense expulsion of energy that can only signal the creation of a supermassive black hole, nothing changes. Not even the planet that seems to have caused it. No celestial bodies around the event seem changed; the pulse has left no discernible footprint.â
Stellan felt a wave of satisfaction when a look of curiosity and unease finally passed the board membersâ eyes.
âAnd yet, since the exact moment of this event, the Ad Astra terraforming colony has gone completely dark. What happened at the moment of this event? What caused it? How has it impacted Ad Astra? These are questions that simply cannot be answered from a distance. Fieldwork is absolutely necessary in order to find out.â
âCould this have been caused by a Seyama-Meyer technology? One of the experimental ones related to this specific terraforming project?â Lucasâs voice betrayed his concern 'Got you, you greedy morons⊠Always with the bottom line.'
âThat is an excellent question, and one that I am sure your shareholders would be acutely interested in dispelling. However, that too can only be determined by an expedition to the site.â Seconds felt like hours as the men on the other side of the table again exchanged wordless glances with one another. Takagi finally rose, followed by the other two. He walked around the long steel table, his strides sleek and measured. When he reached Stellan, Takagi extended his hand.
âThank you, Dr. Blomqvist,â his voice had the warmth of the table beside them, but his palm was clammy. âWe will review your proposal and give you a timely response.â Stellan gritted his teeth, shook the manâs hand, and watched as they filed out of the room. 'Damn bureaucratsâŠ'
Before the end of business hours that day, Stellan found his proposal packet left on his desk, with APPROVED emblazoned across the front of it.
******
Dracona Defense Systems Headquarters: November 14, 2230
The sinking feeling Cris had in her stomach felt a lot more justified since she opened her teamâs most recent assignment this morning. Three weeks, six days, fifteen hours and thirty seconds. 'Damn it, girl⊠Whatâs going on? Where are you?' Their last conversation had been an argument, ending with Marla cutting her feed off. 'Was the fight that serious?' Marla had given Cris the cold shoulder before over smaller spats, and she just gave her the space she needed to figure herself out. But she had never disappeared for so long. This time felt⊠Different⊠And now that she was officially assigned to the expedition that will investigate this radio silence on Proxima Centauri b, Cris knew it was different. These multi-trillion dollar corporations pinched their pennies tighter than her grandmother used to, and fieldwork in a system so far away was astoundingly expensive, even with the latest breakthrough in quantum gravitational drives.
âReady for another round of babysitting a bunch of eggheads?â Jason Millerâs voice cut across Crisâs thoughts like a whip, but it wasnât a particularly un-welcomed interruption. Left to her own thoughts, Cris could create scenarios more unnerving than the B-team in Draconaâs intelligence services division. Leaning against the door jam, the athletically built man was wearing his signature, far-too-small t-shirt.
âYou know it,â Alex responded absentmindedly without even looking up, his feet kicked up on Crisâs coffee table, and his hands tinkering with a small metal robot of some sort. Even after knowing him for years, his thick southern drawl still occasionally bemused Cris.
âAt least tell me this assignment comes with overtime payâŠâ A third voice groaned, as Jason tripped forward into the room, thanks to a strong shove by Matias. This initiated some good natured rough housing, which sent a coatrack clamoring to the floor.
âDonât you losers have somewhere other than my office to hang out?â Cris shook dark thoughts from her head and towards her motley crew.
âYeah, plenty of places. But youâd miss us too much, Maâam,â Jason retorted, plopping down on the couch next to Alex.
âHEY! Watch it, manâŠâ Alex grasped the metal skeleton, as if the slightest blow could make it combust. Knowing him and his interests, it probably could, and at any second.
âWhere does Grigory go? Why donât you all make it a scavenger hunt to find his hiding place.â Even in her current mood, a smirk pulled at her lips when she thought about how upset The Russian would be if these idiots interrupted his concentration in the middle of a workday.
âMaâam, you never answered Matias about overtime⊠I had better be making a good chunk if they are shipping us out that farâŠâ Jason asked, giving Alexâs âprojectâ a sidelong and somewhat cautious glance.
âNo overtime, MillerâŠâ Cris answered to a cacophony of groans. âBut, interestingly enough, it comes with hazard payâŠâ
âThree weeks, six days, fifteen hours, five minutes and thirty secondsâŠâ Stellan stated, eyes scanning the impassive faces across the table. âThat is the amount of time that has passed since Proxima Centauri b went dark. No communications, no signals, not even as much as an automated emergency alert⊠From a colony of more than 1,000 people⊠It has been three weeks, six days, fifteen hours, five minutes and-â Stellan pulled his sleeve back methodically, and flicked his gaze to his watch and then back up to the corporate board â-53 seconds since I informed Mr. Takagi of the gravitational anomaly that emanated from this area at precisely the same time. And it has been three weeks and five days since I submitted my fieldwork proposal to Mr. Lucas. I havenât received as much as a confirmation of submission.â
The eyes across the table remained impassive, unreadable. The boardroom was pregnant with an indiscernible tension. Stellan would be damned if they expected him to fill the silence.
ââŠWe received your proposal, Dr. Blomqvist.â It was Takagi that broke the silence. As soon as this bureaucratic dismissal passed his lips, the quiet sterility reigned once more. Mr. Lucas subtly pivoted his head to make the briefest of eye contact with Mr. Moyes, who reciprocated in turn. Stellan bristled.
âYou simply do not realize the implications of this anomaly...â Stellan rose abruptly from his chair, sending it skittering backwards. He tapped the digital screen mounted on the wall behind him awake. The Seyama-Meyer corporate logo flashed across the screen; he grimaced at the sight of it. âLights, 20 percent,â as the room darkened, he pulled up a map of the Alpha Centauri binary system on the screen. Stellan stood slightly to the side of the screen, the model of the planetary system throwing technicolor across his pale visage. âLook at this. HereâŠâ Stellan circled the planet labeled Proxima Centauri b with his finger, and a thin red line trailed his touch. âProxima Centauri b, perfectly normalâŠâ Stellan double-tapped the screen, and the celestial bodies started moving. ââŠ.until nowâŠâ a sharp pulse emanated from the center of the planet, sending ripples into space far beyond it. Still marveling at this phenomena himself, Stellan played it over again, watching it for what had to be the thousandth time in the past few weeks. 'What the hell is happening here?'
Stellan looked back at his managersâ faces, which were barely visible in the dark save for Mr. Moyesâ glasses reflecting the screenâs light back at him.
âLights, 100%âŠâ As the room brightened, the corporate boardâs faces were still unreadable, save for the tinge of impatience from Moyes. 'Why canât they see the significance of this?!'Stellan cleared his throat, deciding to take a different tack.
âIf my models are correct, what we just witnessed here was an incredibly accelerated process of gravitational collapse, occurring at the heart of Proxima Centauri b.â Stellan rested his palms on the table, leaning forward. The steel was cold beneath his hands.
âDr., save the academics for your lecture circuit. Why does this matter?â Mr. Moyes finally spoke, his voice cutting like a knife. Stellan felt a spike of hot anger pass through him, but Mr. Takagi thankfully spoke before he could.
âMr. MoyesâŠâ His voice was level. âWe do not employ the worldâs leading scientists to stymie their research. Go on, Dr. Blomqvist. But please do get to the point.â
âThank youâŠâ Stellan gave Moyes a hard look before continuing. 'If any of you morons even skimmed my proposal, you would know why this matters.' âThis event matters because, simply put, it should have been impossible. Do you realize what the end product of gravitational collapse is?â
Takagi did not move his eyes from Stellan, but Moyes rolled his while Lucas peered at the other two to see their responses. 'Of course not â all they care about is the corporationâs bottom line. How ironic that all research proposals must first be backed by idiots who have probably never taken a basic science class in their lives. Maybe I shouldnât have left academia⊠One of my freshman could have answered that.'
âThe end product of gravitational collapse is a black hole. Total, all-consuming, nearly infinite destruction,â Stellan spoke each word as a staccato for emphasis. âThe unending collapse of matter into itself - into its smallest point. What about this picture does not add up?â Stellan set the video to a loop, with the pulse emanating out from the planet, and back in, over and over. 'Besides the fact that only stars have been known to collapse, but best not muddy the water'.
âThe planet is still there.â 'Top of the class, Mr. LucasâŠ'
âYes. Despite this absolutely immense expulsion of energy that can only signal the creation of a supermassive black hole, nothing changes. Not even the planet that seems to have caused it. No celestial bodies around the event seem changed; the pulse has left no discernible footprint.â
Stellan felt a wave of satisfaction when a look of curiosity and unease finally passed the board membersâ eyes.
âAnd yet, since the exact moment of this event, the Ad Astra terraforming colony has gone completely dark. What happened at the moment of this event? What caused it? How has it impacted Ad Astra? These are questions that simply cannot be answered from a distance. Fieldwork is absolutely necessary in order to find out.â
âCould this have been caused by a Seyama-Meyer technology? One of the experimental ones related to this specific terraforming project?â Lucasâs voice betrayed his concern 'Got you, you greedy morons⊠Always with the bottom line.'
âThat is an excellent question, and one that I am sure your shareholders would be acutely interested in dispelling. However, that too can only be determined by an expedition to the site.â Seconds felt like hours as the men on the other side of the table again exchanged wordless glances with one another. Takagi finally rose, followed by the other two. He walked around the long steel table, his strides sleek and measured. When he reached Stellan, Takagi extended his hand.
âThank you, Dr. Blomqvist,â his voice had the warmth of the table beside them, but his palm was clammy. âWe will review your proposal and give you a timely response.â Stellan gritted his teeth, shook the manâs hand, and watched as they filed out of the room. 'Damn bureaucratsâŠ'
Before the end of business hours that day, Stellan found his proposal packet left on his desk, with APPROVED emblazoned across the front of it.
******
Dracona Defense Systems Headquarters: November 14, 2230
The sinking feeling Cris had in her stomach felt a lot more justified since she opened her teamâs most recent assignment this morning. Three weeks, six days, fifteen hours and thirty seconds. 'Damn it, girl⊠Whatâs going on? Where are you?' Their last conversation had been an argument, ending with Marla cutting her feed off. 'Was the fight that serious?' Marla had given Cris the cold shoulder before over smaller spats, and she just gave her the space she needed to figure herself out. But she had never disappeared for so long. This time felt⊠Different⊠And now that she was officially assigned to the expedition that will investigate this radio silence on Proxima Centauri b, Cris knew it was different. These multi-trillion dollar corporations pinched their pennies tighter than her grandmother used to, and fieldwork in a system so far away was astoundingly expensive, even with the latest breakthrough in quantum gravitational drives.
âReady for another round of babysitting a bunch of eggheads?â Jason Millerâs voice cut across Crisâs thoughts like a whip, but it wasnât a particularly un-welcomed interruption. Left to her own thoughts, Cris could create scenarios more unnerving than the B-team in Draconaâs intelligence services division. Leaning against the door jam, the athletically built man was wearing his signature, far-too-small t-shirt.
âYou know it,â Alex responded absentmindedly without even looking up, his feet kicked up on Crisâs coffee table, and his hands tinkering with a small metal robot of some sort. Even after knowing him for years, his thick southern drawl still occasionally bemused Cris.
âAt least tell me this assignment comes with overtime payâŠâ A third voice groaned, as Jason tripped forward into the room, thanks to a strong shove by Matias. This initiated some good natured rough housing, which sent a coatrack clamoring to the floor.
âDonât you losers have somewhere other than my office to hang out?â Cris shook dark thoughts from her head and towards her motley crew.
âYeah, plenty of places. But youâd miss us too much, Maâam,â Jason retorted, plopping down on the couch next to Alex.
âHEY! Watch it, manâŠâ Alex grasped the metal skeleton, as if the slightest blow could make it combust. Knowing him and his interests, it probably could, and at any second.
âWhere does Grigory go? Why donât you all make it a scavenger hunt to find his hiding place.â Even in her current mood, a smirk pulled at her lips when she thought about how upset The Russian would be if these idiots interrupted his concentration in the middle of a workday.
âMaâam, you never answered Matias about overtime⊠I had better be making a good chunk if they are shipping us out that farâŠâ Jason asked, giving Alexâs âprojectâ a sidelong and somewhat cautious glance.
âNo overtime, MillerâŠâ Cris answered to a cacophony of groans. âBut, interestingly enough, it comes with hazard payâŠâ
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