We will stay here now, yes? Because the ship is broken and we cannot go home.

[And chances are low that they will manage to get off planet, but Muscovy doesn't really see a point in that - the planet is warm and while, like every other place, it has its dangers, it seems like a fertile place that one should be able to make a good living on.]

So everyone should get married and have children, yes? Because unless you're immortal you will need them to take care of you when you get old, or ill. And it will be less scary to live here when there are children around, because it will feel more like a place that is home to everyone, yes? And it is a warm feeling to be with family and home, so it will make everyone happier.

If you know whom you want to marry but you don't know how to tell them, you can write them a letter and I will bring it to them!

And if you don't know whom to marry yet, you can tell me and I will tell you who else is trying to find someone to marry and then you can look at each other and talk about it. And then you can have children and be happy, yes?
 
 
05 February 2016 @ 02:07 pm
Attention, citizens.

The suspected criminal has been captured and detained, with the assistance of Citizen Hawke, and Citizen Rogers. She is being held under a charge of larceny.

I am keeping armed guard over the suspect, but am presently refraining from taking any punitive action. My own capabilities suggest the guilt of the suspect, however - understanding there is no clearly established legitimate political authority - I turn to the camp-citizenry for the question of how best to practice justice.

We therefore require corroboration from others capable of the necessary interrogation techniques, to discern the truth of the matter. With no material evidence, the contents of the suspect's mind - her thoughts and memories - are the only conclusive source of proof. Luckily, I believe we have several citizens capable of such an inquiry.

There is also the larger question of standards of conduct, rule of law and expectations of propriety which are not well established. This is as good a time as any to seek consensus on the matter.

May Justice and its flower, Peace, be well served.
 
 
24 January 2016 @ 10:18 am
[After a lot of thought she's decided against video, because she still doesn't like talking and wants to get her point across without messing it up]

My name is Chell. I'm one of the few people left that worked in Agriculture on the ship.

Looking for people to help in the new gardens. You don't need to know anything about farming or growing food, just have to be willing to listen to instructions and help out.

If you do have experience, that would be great.

If you have any questions leave them here or come looking for the woman in the orange jumpsuit.

Thank you

 
 
15 November 2015 @ 03:28 pm
[Hello, fellow planetfall survivors. Today a rather reclusive individual is accessing the network for... well, probably the first time since the digital network was re-established by the resourceful group involved. Having his ear up against a whole bunch of human chatter was not something Algidus had been interested in; he'd, in fact, let his phone run dry and had to charge it at a hard line just for this occasion.

But it was an important one. Though Algidus didn't want to admit it, he was beginning to become worried--it had been a long time since he'd seen or heard from the one person who had actively agreed to help him in this place. And while mild discouragement normally wouldn't have been enough to keep him from using the bandwith-devouring video function of the phone, today he's opting for voice because he's having a hard time completely masking the concern in his expression. He doesn't want anyone to see even a trace of weakness.]


This is a... humble request for information. I--has anyone seen or heard from AJ recently? [And then, just in case a name doesn't ring any bells, he adds on:] ... Human. [Well, that probably goes without saying.] Woman. Tall, lanky, uh... long, dark hair. Sharp features. Often came into camp with me to make trades. [Then, just to attempt to mask the fact that he actually cares even a little for a human:] She and I were working together on something. Something important. If she's not here any more then I will need to... pursue other avenues.

[He pauses, tries to think of anything else to say, and finds himself not only coming up short but feeling an unfamiliar emotion welling up inside of himself. Rebelling against it takes up his focus, so for now, he's cutting his broadcast and waiting to hear from others.]
 
 
 [So. We found a body. Not pretty. 

Hughes would rather not cause a panic, but these people are exceedingly good at handling bad news. Besides, enough people were there, so it's not like it's all top secret. Still, best get to it while the getting's good. Because someone out there might also have some information that may be of use.]


I hate to use the new system for anything other than stupid emoticons, but — right to business.

There was a murder in the camp. His name was Radek Mendoza, one of the original Tranquility crew members. From what I can see, he was violently stabbed to death; his face was somewhat mutilated, but his fellow crew was able to identify him for me. From what it looks like, he had come back into the winds and was possibly attempting to retrieve supplies, maybe wanted to find a different place to seek cover. Whatever the case, his crew members hadn't seen him since before the winds began.

There were also masks. Two masks around the area. But other than that...

... It's still a process, putting some pieces together, but I or someone involved in keeping records will update you if anything big happens. Until then, we could use anyone who has some experience, should they want to offer; the body hasn't been examined in detail yet. Maybe it's a fool's game considering we're not exactly a investigations bureau and our supplies are limited, but I figure we might as well be thorough about it, in case it becomes a problem later on...

Which I hope it doesn't.

Examiners, forensic aid, anyone handy with tech — anything could be useful in getting the fine details.

[He's not going to say it, but it's possible someone in the camp could have murdered him. After all, those masks? Those gale winds? 

Caused a lot of mental stress. 

... Or it can be...] 


I don't know if I even need to say it, but we're not alone on this planet. I'm guessing you guys got the hints?

That's probably something we should also address. The elephant in the room, right? And here we thought we were having enough fun with the environmental difficulties alone.

[That is concerning. To say the least. 

OOC: Anyone who was at the scene on the 1st,
head on over here and let us know what your contribution would be, if you think your character would have been there on day one! If you'd like to poke in here to get an idea of where your person could go, you're more than welcome! Also questions are great, but I'm also still awaiting potential mod answers on questions Hughes will be asking, so apologies if I'm a bit slow on the responses! Basically this is just for some discussion to bloom about either the murder or the idea that they're not alone on the planet, so feel free to threadjack and have at it.]
 
 
28 October 2015 @ 12:40 pm
 
Umm... Do you think...

Are last names -- important?

I was, was thinking maybe... I dunno... My real mom had a last name, but I never used it... Lots of people got last names, though.

Maybe I could have one, too...?

[Not that he has one in mind. Only -- he does, but he's not sure if it's allowed. Is it? He wishes he knew.]
 
 
[ACHOO.

...

Okay, now that he's got that sneeze over with — excuse the scruffy mongrel on your mirror this fine afternoon. Sun's going down, leaving everything shadowed and orange.  He's found himself a decent opening, where he's still hidden under the cover of trees, but he's got a good glow of sunlight through the clearing. Max is — actually using the mirror, despite the nagging in his head telling him it's not a great idea. But he's just. Getting some stuff handled, okay. This is the best way to ask around without having to actually be in people's presences.

Nill don't watch this, thanks.]

... Need paper, and something to write with.

I can trade food, or radio parts. Could make a good blade for anyone if they need it.

[.......]

That's all.

[Bye.]
 
 
05 October 2015 @ 11:59 pm
[In your hand, if you've been ""lucky"" enough to have been given one, is a dull shard of a mirror. Some friendly bloke probably handed it to you, possibly with an an explanation, possibly not. And now here's why: at some point mid jungle afternoon, you will find that mirror is glowing.

And speaking.]


Hello from your mirror!

[Waving from the narrow surface is an image of Sirius and James, a crisp rendition clearer than any video. Their voices may sound a wee bit tinny, but only just.]

Your mirror, which has helpfully--magically--been connected to all of the other little bits of mirror that we've found--which is replacing the old network, fondly as we all remember it--and by the way, you’re welcome. Thank any witch or wizard you see in passing for this minor miracle, 'cos we’ve worked tirelessly, without rest, to make all this possible.

[A moment of silence to commemorate the kindness of wizards, interrupted by James:]

We accept most forms of gifts. Food's recommended. But I'm not opposed to loads of praise.

Muggles can use it, as well. Just shout at it 'til it works. Some of us were concerned you lot are all five, so rounded edges are a thing. No stabbing anyone with your mirror if they send a message to the bloke you fancy.


No real private messaging, mind. Whatever you send out, make sure you’re wanting the whole world to hear it. I won’t be held responsible for any secrets leaked or confessions made. Nor will James. Will you, James.

Right. Though there's a secret password. Just a heads up. Private messages. Ask me about it later. Especially if you've got something really interesting you don't want anyone to hear.

[The look that Sirius shoots him will go more or less unnoticed and, if noticed, will be otherwise misinterpreted--but James will understand it, and probably Remus, a little bit. He nearly speaks the language, enough to get the broad strokes such as: James Potter, you magnificent creature.]

Yeah, that--and my final note is, I'm still working out emojis, but don't worry. They'll be back.

Cheers, Jungle!


[Twin mock salutes, and they're out! The mirror flickers, and goes to smooth glass again.


red is SIRIUS, blue is JAMES. any questions, please lay them on us at our ooc post!]
 
 
[ In a string of familiar faces, two more appear on the video to join in. Devon Resnik, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, crew jumpsuit stained with some mixture of grease and blood, looks tired as she speaks. ] He makes an impression, doesn’t he? By now, what he’s offering might have started to sound pretty good, but you can’t let yourselves be blinded by desperation.

[ With her warning out of the way, Ward steps in, expression flat and hard. ] You can't let him have the ship. You know what you're capable of now. You'll be putting that power in his hands.

[ Side-by-side, in an indistinct hallway of the ship, broadcasting from what seems to be a sturdy, built-in terminal, Ward and Resnik continue to snowball one another’s comments, picking up from the end of one another’s sentences as fluidly as if they were their own. ]

And all that control you think you’ve gained over the ship will be for nothing. Do you think it was an accident that it wound up back in Miraxian space?

It wants to be here. You've been fighting. This isn't where you stop.

[ The emphatic insistence in his voice edges on hard desperation. This isn't a day they'd ever wanted to see. ]

We have no intentions of letting van Rijn get his hands on this ship or any of its tech. You don’t want that either, so let’s figure out a plan and stop him.
 
 
[ The feed begins with a single tone, low, as if testing the audio capabilities of the devices. On the screen is an older man, white haired with bright blue eyes, standing in front of a deep blue banner emblazoned in gold with a circular symbol containing three five-pointed stars. Though his face now is solemn, there are laughter lines soft at corners of his eyes, the set of his mouth one clearly used to the curve of a smile. He only waits a moment before beginning to speak, voice level, carrying an assured authority, a confidence borne from experience. ]

Residents of the Tranquility, I greet you today after many, many years of waiting. My name is Hendrik van Rijn, Prime Minister of the Miraxian Triad, the people who built and launched the ship you've been trapped on. You may not have heard of me, but I have heard of you, and all the terrible events you've been forced to endure as a result of the unprecedented malfunction which took the Tranquility so far from her intended path. I offer you the deepest sympathies of my people, and myself. Mistakes have been made, and I give you every assurance that now, with your return to us, we will find the cause of this tragedy and set things right.

I know you may have heard promises before, and met with the unfortunate souls in our society who prefer to cheat and steal than offer a helping hand. I know you have no reason to trust me; if I'd been through as much as you have, I wouldn't trust me either. But we have someone else here to speak to you, and I hope hearing from her will help to show the truth of our intentions, and allow us to begin the forging of a strong partnership as we move into the future.


[ With a last look to the camera, he steps back, turning his attention to the side and holding out a hand to greet and guide the woman joining him to take center. The woman's face is one known to many aboard the ship. She's gracious as she steps into view, appearing to squeeze the man's hand before she lets go and takes her place.

Odessa Knutson.
]

Thank you, Prime Minister.

[ Her attention turns to the camera then, head tilting to one side as a wide smile spreads across her familiar features. She has a look of health to her. A better diet, some proper sunlight, and time will do that. ]

Hello, Tranquility. [ Spoken in the same way one might ask, did you miss me? ] It's been a long time. Too long. For all of us. [ That smile turns a little sad. They've been through some horrors, haven't they? Time and distance has allowed much of it to become a distant memory. ]

The time has come to stop running. When I left the ship, I didn't know what to expect. We received so many conflicting stories, didn't we? I expected all the worst ones to be true, but it was a risk I was willing to take. I'm sure many of you can understand why. Still, I was afraid that I would find monsters. That I would be thrown in a dark cell and never see the light of day again. Now, I don't say this often, but... [ Her hands spread out to her sides, palms up in a gesture that says just look at me. ] I was wrong. After my escape two years ago, Prime Minister van Rijn's people found me. They gave me food, clothing, shelter, a new life and a new purpose...

To find all of you, and help you to be rescued as I had been rescued. I know most of you aren't like me; I'm starting over here, and I'm happier than I've ever been, but many of you have lives you want to return to.
[ The delight she has in sharing this good news seems genuine enough, especially (or even) to those who know her well. She clasps her hands in front of her, a light in her eyes. ] I've seen what the Miraxians have been working on myself. There's hope, so much hope.

Pack your bags, my friends. We're coming to take you home.


[[ OOC: van Rijn exited stage left once off camera, and responses will come from Odessa Knutson only. ]]
 
 
Hey, guys, it's Hughes. :) 

Since I am in communications, I have been spending a horrible amount of time getting used to this insanely advanced technology — thank you for that, by the way! The best way to arrive in a new and totally dangerous world is also learning you're completely behind by many centuries! 

But I have adapted. Made great progress! Look, I can do faces. :) 

:( 

6_9 This one looks dizzy. 

:'( And we have a sad one here.

I need more! Please send me your faces ASAP, it's gravely important. So much more enjoyable than typewriters! No need for white ink or ribbons or buttons jamming! I wrote an entire letter to my friend Roy missing my R key.

So essentially I was diving him insane because I wote oy eveytime his name came up.

He eally hated me.

Anyway, hone your art skills! Show me what you can do while I'm on the clock. I'll need more than two things to focus on around here, because my attention span is far too used to being split three different directions.

Look. I made a flower for my favorite people (you know who you are).

............._ _
..........._{ ' }_
..........{ `.!.` }
...........,_/Y\_,'
............{_,_}
..............|
............(\| /)
.............\| //
..............|//
...........\\ |/ //
.......^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I CHALLENGE YOU TO... AN ART COMPETITION. I SCORE BASED ON CREATIVITY AND EFFORT. 

OR WHATEVER ELSE YOU CAN DO WITH THIS THING. 

I've already figured out the picture taking part.

;)

..._

thanks sirius for the face tips :))))
 
 
18 July 2015 @ 05:12 pm
002  
Hi! I'm Skye.

[ Waving at the camera is Skye, hair pulled into a braid over one of her shoulders, long-sleeved shirt pulled down over her hands. ]

I guess some of you already know that. I mean, not just the people I know, but the people who I don't know I know 'cause I was here before. [ She shakes her head. ] Point being ...

I know we're all dealing with the same thing right now. These powers, manifesting out of nowhere. At first, I thought it was great. You idealize that sort of thing when you don't have it, but ... [ She bites down on her lower lip. ] I've seen some pretty messed up things since then. Not just seen, but felt. What it's like to be missing body parts, to smell my own flesh burning, to kill people. And I don't—

It's not a walk in the park for anyone, okay, I get that. I just want to know if anyone's found a way to, like, control it, or stop it.
 
 
15 July 2015 @ 01:27 pm
This is Shepard. Further investigation into the empathetic connections, etc. seems to suggest consistent results throughout, with strength increasing in--

[ Crash. Shepard looks up, alarmed, then swears under her breath. ]

Hold on. [ She sets the comm device down, then calls out: ] Hey! That isn't for you to eat! ... Ah, shit. [ More grumbling, then a strange, definitively alien, bark-like cry. ] Going to have to get that replaced. [ Beat; cue thumping that increases in volume. ] Wait a second--

[ The device tumbles from its surface, seemingly held in the mouth of something that breathes loudly as it runs laps around the small room. With a few more curses, the redhead commander can be seen in flashes trying to get it back, then manages to tackle the offender with a series of struggling grunts.

Finally, Shepard again. She looks wearied and apologetic. ]


Sorry. I was going to say, with strength increasing in the manifestations, especially. Though, I'd guess it's equal across the board with these new abilities. Can't say for sure. If you've got more experience with the others, the... memories and telepathy, I'd like to hear about it.

[ She gives a few of the creature behind her, who is tearing her pillow to shreds. ]

It's a Varren. Should be harmless, but I'll keep him in here in case he gets hungry, and... uh, violent.

[ The Varren in question yips happily, clearly pleased with itself. ]

Shepard out.
 
 
 I've been practicing pretty hard!!

[HEY GUYS WHAT IS UP. Takeshi is looking far more cheery than his last entry had been around here, his hands into excitable little fists.]

We're gonna be the best team ever! This is so great; we're gonna be heroes like this, and we'll work together, and... I made stuff from my old house with my head — really!! Really, I did! I made a chair, and I made a... a lamp! And I made the TV — it... it didn't turn on or nothin', and it goed — it went away like all the other stuff from my head... but it was a TV! 

[He is super stoked about this power business. He's likely been terrorizing the people who stay in the gardens with it. Tragically.]


We should get connected more! If I don't know you! So we can share pictures in our heads. And words! 

Watch — look at this, look, I can show people pictures!

[He closes his eyes, putting his hands on his head in deep concentration. Anyone who is around Takeshi enough to have one of those connections — someone he's bumped into, someone he finds his friend, someone deserving of teamwork — will get the very brief flash of memory through Takeshi's eyes. It's only just him back in his world, crouched down in someone's dirt patch that is supposed to be a garden; he's playing with two mangled-up action figures, the paint scraped off in random places. 'Pow, pow, pow! Don't run from Muscle Rider — you can't get away!! Villain!'

Then the memory flickers out. Takeshi breathes out deeply, rosy-cheeked but proud.]


That's... that's all I'm good at so far... so — we should practice...!

[RIGHT MOM, RIGHT. LET'S PRACTICE BEING COOL POWERED PEOPLE KAY.]
 
 
22 June 2015 @ 08:25 pm
hullo im posting a survey on behalf of Support
Support asked me to
answers here please but direct all questions to mr R J Lupin hes head of Support surveys thats why he asked me to do this one for him
interdepartmental unity

SURVEY.URMOM.DOC )
 
 
19 June 2015 @ 12:21 am
[Rey is looking significantly different now than most have seen her prior to the jump. For one, her hair is much shorter, almost pixie-ish, but not so much as cut as it has been growing back. While she has an array of new scars, the most notable one right now would be a nasty-looking horizontal gash across her throat that resembles a knife blade.

[Other than that, she looks no more worse for wear than her last public appearance. But she's not really here to talk about her harsher mien.]


"Other people saw it, right? Outside of the pods at the jump?

"Seems that it's been watching us for a long time."

[She looks away briefly, biting the inside of her cheek, and then back to the screen.]

"Whatever is happening to us, this connection we share... Perhaps it's supposed to help us fight it. Not sure how yet, but if it wants us alone and it can't control us to the point where we have it scared, it'd be nice to think that we've been given more of a fighting chance than the old crew ever had." [Hey, she's at least trying to be optimistic here.] "So maybe we should be learning how to control our link, rather than resist it."

['The clock has stopped.' 'It means the path planned for you is gone now.']

[Taking a deep breath, her eyes close. When they reopen, her expression changes. Even her voice is different when she speaks; suddenly hardened by fortitude.]


"Don't know about you, but I say fuck it. I plan on taking my own path."
 
 
This is Mystique.

Some of you may recognize me from the Jump star-mapping and timekeeping projects, where I collaborated with passengers from the Science Department and Flight Deck. Some more details on those works are here and here, but we've been keeping the latest updates on those figures in other storage because of the network presence of hostile entities.

I've never joined a department. I know I'm not alone. There are more possible reasons why a passenger may have made this decision, even if that decision is only to wait. In the majority of cases, we are interested in sustaining life on this ship, and we all know that this is becoming more crucial with every passing Jump. Many of us coordinate with departments as it is.

I'm offering and requesting help with making this happen more often and more efficiently.

PERSONNEL MANAGEMENT

  • Potential volunteers: let me know what skills you have and what/kind of projects you'd be interested in working on.
  • Department heads: please let me know if you are willing to accept formal volunteers. If you want to specify a representative for contact and training from your department, do.
  • Roster of volunteers is now here.
  • Resident software experts: I've started to hammer together some basic software to make tracking easier, but I may need a tech assist too. I'm trying to keep it separate from the native nanite programming, and I doubt integration is possible, but a scheduler could be great.
PROPOSED PROJECT MANAGEMENT (pending departmental cooperation)

  • Flight Deck: complete construction of combat spacecraft and other equipment
  • Gunnery: complete construction/repairs of weaponry
  • General: maintenance, repairs, general assistance
  • Updates pending department input
My assumption is that volunteers will require supervision, training, and assistance with access to department-specific equipment, and work schedules will need to be determined. Serious disagreements should be resolved with someone getting fired; silly ones, I suspect we don't have time for.

If there is enough interest to proceed, I will make the information available in a few weeks.


OOC Note )
 
 
27 May 2015 @ 07:17 pm
[The video camera settles on Galadriel, in Medbay, rather than her usual broadcast location of the Oxygen Gardens. It’s an oddly sterile, modern looking background for her, but somehow, it works; she seems confident and utterly at ease. She greets the camera with an official little nod and begins to speak.]
Many of you know me already. For those of you who do not, I am the Lady Galadriel and today I speak on behalf of the Medical Department.

I am certain that recent trend of headaches and related symptoms have been missed by no one. The medical staff have wasted no time in doing research on these symptoms and we have come to some conclusions, both as to the cause of these ailments and how they might be healed.

It appears- [For the first time, she seems mildly uncomfortable, as if the world of MRIs and CT scans is still something slightly alien to her. At least William is behind the camera if she gets a question she absolutely can’t answer.] - it appears as though the head pains are caused by small injuries to the brain, which increase seemingly without reason. We have found nothing effective in preventing this, save one thing- physical contact with another. With this, the injuries cease and healing may begin.

I need not say, I assume, that ignoring such symptoms is foolhardy beyond reason and may even be fatal. I urge you all to take care and invite you to ask whatever questions you may have. I will answer them to the best of my abilities.

[ooc: Anyone who wants their character to go into a coma feel free to miss this announcement due to network glitches or be trapped away from others with the elevators and navigation glitching starting May 28th, etc, etc.]
 
 
26 May 2015 @ 04:10 pm
[When the feed switches on, it shows Hiro flushed, breathless, and clearly ducked into a small, dark hiding place with a hand pressed to the side of his head and his eyes shut. He tries to keep his voice down when he speaks so that he won't be easily found, but who even knows what someone might be able to hear. Keeping his voice low also helps with the headache that started pounding behind his eyes; which had happened so suddenly that he'd stumbled into things and gotten him into the mess he's in at the moment.]

So-- here's a question. Totally hypothetical... but let's say you got caught sneaking into areas you shouldn't be in or touching things maybe no one wants you to touch. What would you say is the best way of getting out of it?

[He only asks because his usual tactic of "play the totally innocent/dumb kid card" doesn't seem to work so well on the few staff members he's run into in the engineering area, and even the "I'm so sorry, my head's been hurting and I got confused" angle failed. All of which has ended up with him kind of backed up into a corner. He wouldn't bother asking a whole bunch of strangers otherwise. Hiro bites his lip, glances outside of his little hiding spot, then turns back to the camera with a slightly sheepish look.]

It's not as bad as it sounds. I swear. I just... needed some things.
 
 
11 May 2015 @ 09:15 pm
We're losing people.

[It's not a good opener. Tyke's in the SEC office, the central screen standing as backdrop behind her, but her expression doesn't seem as sharp as it usually is for these announcements. The slight pinch in her brow isn't unusual, but there's a slightly cloudy quality to her eyes that doesn't dissipate as she continues talking.]

There's less people at the jumps. Our overall population's getting smaller. You'd think we'd be getting bigger over time, not this.

[Her frown deepens for a moment, and she takes a breath. Seems to pull herself up straighter, words coming stronger.]

My name's Tyke, and I'm head of security. Anyone that hasn't heard it before: security's here for your safety. Things here are gonna try to kill you or fuck with your head. We wanna make sure that doesn't happen.

One way you're gonna help on that is by sticking together. Move down to the first ten floors. Join a department. They maintain the basic functions of the ship around you, and they're all fucking understaffed. Don't let any of this shit make you think we've gotta turn on each other.

[Pain twists her expression sharply, suddenly, has her leaning forward slightly, a thin trickle of blood running down from her nose. She wipes it almost immediately, red smearing on her face and the back of her hand. She glares at it, irritation and frustration palatable, snarling in her voice.]

Is anyone else getting these fucking headaches?