17 July 2014 @ 12:18 pm
Hey everyone.

I'm sure some sort of demographics survey has been done in the past but I haven't seen one since I've been here and I'm curious. I've tried to keep it pretty basic. I know people are touchy about their privacy, and I know some aren't cool with being asked about special abilities/skills/powers/whatever, so obviously skip questions if you want to, no hard feelings. I'd rather just get name/age/planet than nothing at all, you know? Not like I'm going to hunt you down and force you to fill it out. But if you're willing to be more complete that'd be awesome and if there's something you think is important that I didn't include a field for, let me know.

Maybe there's a pattern here somewhere, maybe there's not, but at the very least it might be interesting or provide some useful data for department recruitment or something. Maybe you'll find some friends, whatever.

Thanks!



UPDATE: On request from several of our fellow passengers, I'm adding a 'relationship status' field. You're all welcome. Feel free to edit/update your entries accordingly if you want to.

(ooc: feel free to treat this as threadjack city as far as I'm concerned. if you squint it's kind of almost like an ic cr meme?)
 
 
11 July 2014 @ 07:23 am
[Johanna flicks on the video with a glare. The room around her is dark; the screen lights her face from below. When she speaks, her voice is a little rough and hoarse, like she's been shouting a lot, very recently. (She has.)]

Hi, friends. [She bites out the word.] Just a little message for you all. You've all gotten really comfortable on this hunk of junk you're calling a ship--or what's passing as a ship-- [And she manages a little smirk at that--] --which, come on, it's crap. But I get it, it's not yours. You're all just prisoners here, it did some horrible things to you... yeah.

And that's where this comes in.

[She holds up her arm, where her tattoo is clearly stamped out, fresh and new.]

See this thing? This isn't a fashion accessory. This is bullshit. The last time someone shoved something in my arm and told me to smile and get on with my life, I didn't put up with it. I'm getting this thing out of myself, and if any of you have any sense--you'll do the same. You wonder how they get to you? It's things like this. But I'll bet you already knew that.

Well, fuck that. Fuck all of it. I'm not doing that again.

You want us to join up and help you run this ship? --Or resist this ship, or fight whatever you think is here? Here's my offer. First person that tells me how to get this thing out of my arm without dying, I'll join whatever they're running. And you want me on your side.

[JOHANNA OUT.]
 
 
16 March 2014 @ 02:06 pm
[The video feed is slightly unsteady and held slightly too close to Aidan's face, but occasional glimpses at the edge of the frame suggest he's in one of the media libraries. And also druuuunk.]

Okay, so a few things, TQ. One: [--he holds up a finger--] This place really needs a better night life. One sad space bar? Come on, we're mostly all creative adults. There's probably some music in here. [Which would explain why he's pawing around in a library.] Maybe if we all stopped feeling sorry for ourselves and lightened up a little, the whole seeing messages on walls and space ghosts wouldn't be such a big deal.

I mean weird is normal here. Like people who can read your mind and monsters on the comm. Isn't there a dinosaur or something in the garden? --Or like people come here and then they disappear and it's not even a big deal because apparently they just go back to where they came from or something? That's a good thing, right? [A beat. Awkward. The video feed is hanging at chin level before he realizes and rights it.]

So apparently we should just roll with it and get on with our lives. And two: [--he doesn't hold up a second finger. Pauses for a long couple of seconds.]

No, I guess that's it.
 
 
27 February 2014 @ 01:43 pm
I know bitching doesn't change anything, but I have to say, I am really sick of this place. Especially with all the shit whoever's in charge throws at us. It'd be nice if we could get a vacation from the UUS Deathtrap, but if we ever actually DID get one, we'd probably end up just as fucked as we are on board. Unfortunately, some of us don't have the luxury of hoping we get sent back home.

Which begs the (incredibly personal, I know, so don't feel obligated to answer) question: how many of us on board are dead back home?
 
 
25 January 2014 @ 03:52 pm
[Godric sits on an open, grassy area in the gardens, contemplating a... thing he holds in his hands. It isn't very large, perhaps the size of his hand, and looks very much like a small horse with a single horn on its head. Sadly, it isn't alive, but permineralized into a fossil.]

I received this in my locker during the previous jump--

[Before Godric can continue, he glances up at something just off-camera, a restless shadow falling over him. There's a sound like a chirrup just before a large, straight beak noses into the picture, snatching the fossil cleanly out of Godric's hands.

The communicator falls over, disturbed from its resting place by a clawed foot, allowing for a bug's-eye view of Myfanwy the pteranodon awkwardly gnawing at the remains. It only lasts a moment before she makes a sound of clear disgust, dropping the little creature with an indignant shake of her head. Shooting a look at Godric, she takes off again with a great flap of her wings.

Retrieving the communicator, Godric looks dryly amused.]


It seems that wasn't at all what she expected from a unicorn either.
 
 
14 January 2014 @ 09:45 pm
[ when arya stark faces the camera, it is with all the solemnity of her last video post.

this is not about the fluctuating temperatures, however.
]

I need blankets, [ she begins without preamble, ] and pillows. I would prefer them with color, but any spares you have will be enough.

[ she prefers the ones people receive than the standard issue, but arya has no problems stripping unoccupied rooms if she must. blanket forts are serious business and it is very hot and humid in the gardens. the struggle is real. ]

I also need—hey!

[ the tension breaks with the sudden and utterly unexpected appearance of one (1) shirtless and sweaty gendry. who unceremoniously shoves face and shoulders into the frame. ]

Who are you talking to?

Get out! [ arya shoves her hand at his face to push him out of the shot. the image shakes as she fumbles with the comm and with gendry. ] Don't be rude!

[ the joys of teenagers and almost-teenagers in space. ]
 
 
14 January 2014 @ 07:22 pm
[ hey, tq, it's dean. he's looking... well, a little more restless than normal, and mostly because now that it's been some time after the jump, he's finally accepted that yet another friend has left the ride. he rubs the knuckles of one hand anxiously before looking at the communicator. ]

Any of you ever had a friend or two in this ship who you know ain't around back home anymore? Sucks when they go back, doesn't it. Especially when home isn't just a box six feet underground, but... [ but purgatory, where you personally put them.

it hurts. it sucks. ]


But something a lot more dangerous. Guess we should learn by now to hold on to 'em as hard as we can while we still have 'em, instead of...this. [ as sincere as he is, he can't quite help the strained smirk, like it really is all some big joke. ]

But since I can't do that, I'll ask for the second best thing; anyone feel like doin' a little sparring? And I mean the off the record kind, no punches pulled stuff. You know, fun. [ it's something he's good at, something he could just lose himself in for a little while, so it's worth a shot. ]

Those easily bruised and ready for tears-- or too busy whining about the temperature need not apply. And if you ain't sure, we can even throw a bet of some kind on the winner-- whatever works. Even you freaky supernatural critters are welcome.
 
 
25 October 2013 @ 01:30 pm
[ Angel isn’t excited to be facing the camera - especially considering this is his first ever appearance on the network, he doesn’t look like he’s doing this for the potential shits and giggles. Though it’s… not as if he ever looks like he’s having that good of a time, facing the entire network with a painfully somber expression, it mostly looks like he’s been wrangled into this confession of his. ]

I’m not gonna beat around the bush, at this point there isn’t any reason to. We’ve all got memories we’re batting around, and none of them are the feel good family picture kind. Unless you managed to get the one where I saved a puppy, in which case-- [ -- you didn’t get the one where he’s nailing them to objects. probably a good thing. back to the serious topic at hand. ]

Anything else you get from me? Isn’t gonna be warm and fuzzy, and I already know that a few of you got the worst of it. My past used to be the kind of thing I bragged about and it isn’t anymore-- it’s not who I am now but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still mine. It’s still who I was, and if you want to know more? I’d rather have you ask than let it sit in the back of your head like it does in mine.

[ He knows you guys are out there, he knows. And he’s not going to hunt you down because that just makes it a hell of a lot creepier. But he will fold his arms over his chest and look put off by his own existence. ]

I don’t want anyone’s forgiveness, that’s not why i’m asking you to listen. I’m not trying to make anyone understand the things that I did. But if you want an explanation? If you ended up with memories from someone they called Angelus, spending time in Europe killing more people than you could count- torturing the rest just because you wanted to? Maybe getting cursed with a soul? [ this face he’s making means that he really could go on for awhile. ]

Then those were more than likely mine, and if you want to avoid it, that’s fine. So do I. I’ve done everything I can to try and redeem myself, and I can tell you i’m not the same person I used to be. That doesn’t mean you have to believe it. But you should hear it from me instead of wondering if there’s one more monster on board the ship.
 
 
19 October 2013 @ 09:35 pm
[ there's a click of a lighter, then an inhale, before jax breathes back out. chain-smoking his way through the last couple weeks is hurting his supply, but it's also the best way to deal with stress. and unfamiliar memories. and everything else going on up here. ]

I'm not looking to get all touchy-feely about this shit, but I gotta say it. Some of you people got weird fucking lives, you know that?

[ it's meant to be a joke, but jax ends on a note that's much, much too tense to really carry it off. ]

Anyone figured out how long we gotta put up with the trip down memory lane, or we just waiting till the other shoe drops on this mess and someone's head explodes?
 
 
23 September 2013 @ 02:42 pm
[There's a lot of reasons why Taylor sometimes wishes Kirk was still around, and one of the smaller ones would be so it wasn't always her having to put the alert out. Talking to people still isn't exactly her strong suit. But she's head of security, and there's a pretty big security threat going on, so the network gets another video post, complete with SECURITY PING, before there's blurring and jerking views of the corridors and a few of her dogs while Taylor walks and talks.]

Got some kind of fucked up creatures attacking the ship. Humanoid, likely with extra abilities, unknown so far. Seen three groups of them focussing on destroying whatever equipment they can get their hands on. Could be related to the tech trouble we've been having.

[Not that they seemed like they'd been hiding out anywhere, but doors and lifts screwing up because the ship was priming to start whisking people away again while this was going on wasn't something she wanted to entertain.]

Security, I need all of you moving. We want guard details on key areas in case they start going after the shit we really need. Untrained and unarmed civilians are advised to stay in their rooms, do not engage. Run the other fucking way if you have to. The rest of you use extreme caution.

[Because she knows better than to tell some of you trigger-happy folk not to go looking for a fight.]
 
 
22 September 2013 @ 06:29 pm
[ THIS IS FORWARD DATED spike would usually do this up on video but given the chaos and just how shitty he looks-- oh, yeah, if you haven't seen spike in a bit there's a reason for it. he looks like death. literally. skinny, sallow, low-energy. he's not even quipping like he should be. he's scarcely been here ninety days, but without blood, he's not healing like he should. these demons are giving him the go around and he doesn't like it. so have a raspy english voice, sounding much tireder than usual, which really everyone should expect given the theme around here. ]

I'll tell you all, I've seen an apocalypse or two in my day. And this? This is a bloody disaster.

Floor 22, Room 17. I've got some weapons and hiding spots, but that's not what I'm on about. I'll see you all in the trenches anyway. [ he takes a breath, he might be smoking. ]

...This blood situation, yeah? For us vamps. [ pauuuuuse ] It's wrong, and I'll tell you why it's wrong. This might be a bloody big ship, but it's going to start seeming a whole hell of a lot smaller if we keep handing over human to them--us. To us.

I don't drink human blood, it's a life choice. Let's use an analogy. Now, I talked to an expert on the subject so let's call 'blood' ... 'heroin.' And let's call bagged blood something they call 'methadone.' That's a drug used to bring someone down off scag, if you didn't know. But it doesn't work, and neither does this. Drinking it from a bag? Well. Just makes someone want the real thing.

Over on the Cyllene, guy name of Jayne told me to look for Dr. Tam up in the med bay? But I'm sorry, doc, and anyone else who might have a hand in that concoction -- I don't trust it. Don't ruddy well trust anyone with a beaker and I've got good reason.

There's got to be another way.

[ he hangs up rather abruptly, it takes a lot to get a rise out of him like this. it took the perfect cocktail of starvation, sleeplessness, nightmares and demons from his homeworld but now he's here and he's mad. and yeah, no that's basically it. ]
 
 
19 September 2013 @ 11:24 pm
[Like the rest of you, this woman looks sleep deprived and possibly a little bit deranged. Her eyes are glassy, she seems a little fidgety, as though she's anxiously awaiting something. Anything. A few deep breaths, and she finally stops staring blankly forward and speaks.]

I have a very important question. Very. I'd appreciate any help you can provide.

[Another pause.]

What does "love" mean to you? And what does it feel like? Rapturous? Terrifying? It's a concept to me, nothing more. I've been curious, though. And now that we're all half-incapacitated and sharing things...

[Her attention span seems to weaken for a moment, and she looks away at the wall...]

Also, if anyone knows how to cook something manly, I'd like your help with that, as well.
 
 
[ so, tara's going to skip over how insane all this is, and how she's almost sure everyone and everything around her is a product of being drugged or knocked unconscious via blunt force trauma one time too many. it's-- not useful for one, and depressing for another.

trying to push down how utterly impossible this all is means the expression she turns to the network is her best approximation of the professional, slightly detached pleasantness needed at work. it's not perfect, but it is the best she can gather together over shredded nerves. ]


Does anyone have any acetaminophen-based painkillers? I know we have a medbay, but on the off-chance there's something more familiar I thought I'd ask.

[ and 'are these space drugs safe for fetuses' isn't a question she's necessarily going to leave up to hope and a prayer; it's also not one she'd like to ask out loud. and then, without warning: ]

...again? [ her smile breaks there, frustration and panic looming as she reaches up with slightly unsteady hands to brush at the thin line of blood trailing down and pooling on her upper lip. ] Fuck. [ that's muttered under her breath as she hunts for a towel. her frustration tempers a little as she composes herself, but space is clearly not her favorite thus far. ] And if someone could tell me that's going to stop soon, I'd appreciate it.
 
 
[Spike puts his booted feet up on the table in the lounge, puffing idly on a cigarette. He kinda didn't care about the recirculated air thing given that he didn't actually need to breathe. Instead he's just going to get right to it, leaning over the feed.]

Can't believe what the kitchen here calls 'hot wings.' More like spicy mystery meat, if you ask me. Which you didn't, but I'm telling you anyway. Because there's not one bloody thing else to do up here. Can only walk round in circles so many times before you start getting dizzy. Not that I've done that...

[Instead he's been riding the elevators up and down for the better part of four hours.]

Say, anyone know how to play cribbage? I'd settle for a rollicking game of Operation, at this rate.

[He's away from the screen just a moment, coming back up without his cigarette.]

I know. Charades. Yeah? [He stands up and sets the device far enough away to catch his expression. First word. A person. He flaps his arms like wings then rearranges his brow to hang over his eyes. See what he's doing here... No, probably not. He puts his hands together like prayer and draws a halo over his head with smoke from his cigarette (that he quickly puts down again, off screen).

There's a pause, and then Spike rolls his eyes. He got bored of his own boredom-curing movement.]
You know the guy. He's not really on security, is he?

[The video ends with a slightly melodic laugh and a hoo sound. As in, hoo boy, that's a knee-slapper.

You're welcome, Ataraxion.]
 
 
01 July 2013 @ 11:24 pm
Audentes fortuna iuvat.

Does fortune favors us, Tranquility?

Caesar himself was quite devoted to boldness and fortune; alea jacta est he said and the goddess of fortune favored him for many years.

in the end, she did not. it is a tricky thing, fortune and quite a riddle to guess.


[ that aside ]

An assistance is needed! For baking a cake to a friend whom I favor greatly and who, I decided, celebrates his birthday today.
 
 
[ the feed opens to ( 1 ) katherine pierce, lips pursed and whiskey bottle in hand. she may or may not be drinking from the actual bottle, clearly the epitome of class. ]

As compelling as watching ourselves trip over a message from our resident psychopath is —

[ she offers a pointed brow raise and rolls her shoulders into a casual shrug, the beginnings of a smile in place. read: she doesn't find it very compelling to watch, even if it's on her list of curiosities. ]

I could go for a little less harrowing entertainment. [ a pause and a sip before she offers: ] Twenty questions, only without the annoying guessing. A question for a question, you could say. No rules, obviously — restrictions are boring. Consider it an exercise in getting intimate with each other.

[ she genuinely grins now, leaning back in her seat as she spins a curl around her index finger. ]

Humor me.
 
 
29 June 2013 @ 05:39 pm
[First thing to note: Sam's got a killer hangover.

Second thing to note: he's still in the library, nursing his hangover with coffee and scanning through the network out of sheer desperation for something to find. Anything to pass the time, really. It's hours into his work that he finds something that
might be familiar. Give him a few hours, a little irritation, and nothing remotely helpful in the remaining library aaaand -- ] 

Alright, so get this. 

There's a quote put up on a secondary sub-network, and I think it's from our friend with the red face.

[He scooches in his seat, looking over the words.]

"Such is the appearance of black birds." Now -- I can't put my exact finger on the chapters, but I remember in one of my Mythology courses, there uh -- it was a passage. From an old Greek text I read through during one of our big finals in my last year of undergrad. [A sound of frustration, some moosey grumbling about an Essay From Hell. Then he snaps his fingers, brow furrowed.] Pausanias. He, he wrote a big long piece detailing his firsthand point of view of Greece, way back when; I remember using it as a cited work for a few written works in classic greek literature.

[huff scoff first world college boy problems.]

Or -- it could not mean anything at all. Maybe if doesn't even have to do with the actual passage. Or maybe Mr. Smiles just likes to post from super ancient literature for kicks with no rhyme or reason. 

I don't know. Anybody got extended knowledge in old Greek literature? I don't exactly have the actual texts around to figure anything out, anyway. Don't know if any of you do, or if it even means anything at all. I can't find anything else besides this, but maybe someone who's better at surfing through the different places around here can do a better job than me dishing out more stuff hiding out.

But then there's more. Something about Scylla turning back?

[He'll just copy/paste the full message from the page.]

SUCH IS THE APPEARANCE OF THE BLACKBIRDS.
SCYLLA TURNED BACK; SHE DARED NOT TRUST HERSELF FAR OUT AT SEA.


And speaking of... this. Who's had firsthand experience with this Red Smiley, anyway? How'd those go? I know it hasn't been all that fun, but any kind of first-hand experience about the guy, I'd love to hear. If it's not too much trouble for you.

[Man, his head is killing him.

......................................................]


Or maybe something a little easier: anybody have any remedies for space hangovers?


((ooc: the first part totally just an ic shout out to the tumblr pages, but see if you can figure it out! characters can ICly figure it out too, if they can figure out all that technical mumbo jumbo and actually find the correct sub-networks and stuff. EDIT: there's more stuff, oops.))

 
 
[ Hannibal Lecter's calm blue eyes appear first, incredibly close to the camera, fixed and unblinking, at which point he retreats to a better distance. A smile is almost there, creasing the line of his mouth. ]

Good evening. My name is Doctor Fell, and it has the feel of an evening, don't you agree?

[ He settles down on his chair on the other side of the counter, set up as it is to look like the view of an office, irregardless of the fact that he's recording in one of the kitchens. It's just about possible to see the corner of one of the big freezers in the background. ]

I must come before you today in the wake of such dreadful circumstances as we witnessed several days ago. I hope your injuries are healing well, externally, at least. [ His head inclines, as though in deep thought. ] But in such cases, not all of the harm done is visible. If any one of you would like to discuss your experience - or any other experiences - with a qualified psychiatrist, you need only contact me to schedule a private consultation.

For those who do not, I recommend a solution of ammonia or a paste of baking soda, with which to remove the bloodstains from your clothes.

Finally, I should dearly like to speak to a Murphy Pendleton about his books, and if anyone should happen to know where there might be a ready source of fresh meat, eggs, or milk, I daresay it would guarantee you an invitation to dinner.
 
 
24 June 2013 @ 09:02 am
[ for optimal viewing pleasure, please see the following and allow to run in the background as you enjoy this recording. though the only thing currently in the feed is an angled shot of the treetops in the gardens, this is not an accidental video. there's rustling in the background, like something's moving fast through the leaves coming closer, and it is moving.

a couple seconds later, myfanwy comes flying overhead, a small black shape on her back. it might not be terribly difficult to discern what it is, but don't worry if you miss it, because the pteranodon makes a screech and a sharp turn, sending the shape tumbling off her back towards the device.

river rolls over the feed when she hits the ground, dressed in her tq crew uniform with the legs cut into shorts, hair tied up in a messy bun and hands covered with fingerless black gloves that hardly fit her at all. sky-diving experts or anyone with military training might notice her roll is perfectly controlled to minimise damage, and when she comes back into view, her eyes are wide with adrenaline but she doesn't seem particularly bothered by her fall. ]


Test five. Flight successful. Notes: need to meet higher altitude, consider construction of a harness; ask permission first. No hard turns.

[ she looks away for a second and blinks. ]

I skinned my knees.

[ oops? that's all she says before cutting off the feed. a second later, she attaches a text message. ]

needed:
  • driving goggles ( 1 )
  • cowboy hat ( 2 )
  • chocolate ( dark pref. )
  • colors ( blue unnecessary )
  • tour guide
accepting applications for the last. list name, ident, and qualifications below. willing to trade goods and services.


[ namely: simon's services and stolen goods. double oops? river's permission post is, as always, right yonder with all the necessary warnings and what have you! ]
 
 
[ the thing is, ric knows this is perhaps timed badly, that between everything this might be the least of their worries, but this jump, how it's so twisted with that broadcast of a man who's been dead for almost enough jumps to where only a handful of people even remember him from any broadcast that wasn't from the past. ric remembers him, faintly, in the sort of way you tend to remember the people you see around on the ship more than once or twice. ric likes to call it the small town effect, the ship may be bigger than boston or a number of cities that the various people on the ship are from, but their number is just like a very tiny town. and everyone knows that everyone knows everyone in those places and if they don't, they will soon enough.

seeing the broadcast and seeing some of the other broadcasts had made one singular question pop up into ric's head that he— feels is necessary to ask. if only to learn more about everyone ( that's what a good neighbor does, right ) and their opinions on the entire thing. ]


Bad timing, I know, but figured if I didn't try now I'd manage to forget it the next time it actually was a good time to ask. But anyway, how many of you here believe in ghosts? [ a pause, and a huffed out laugh as he shakes his head. ] I'd say have you seen them, but different worlds, universes, mine is not yours, I'm not assuming the supernatural exists in yours and you don't have to call me crazy for it maybe existing in mine or anyone else's.

But, I'm just a little curious to see if any of you believe in them given— this ship and a lot of things that happen on it. How things are just— fucked up here to where that almost seems sane compared to some things.