what's the status of this ship? besides crashed
and what class is it? which system did it come from? i've never seen anything like it and i've flown almost everything there is
who was its pilot? its crew? does it have a hyperdrive generator? something this big should
you might know it as the jump drive. that's a term i've heard thrown around but nobody seems to really be able to explain it
i need to know every detail

there's obviously extensive damage all over but the worst debris can probably be stripped away
with time and the right tools
which i need
all of them, all of the tools
i don't care if it's a wrench or a hydrospanner, i need it
just put them in a pile somewhere and i'll sort through the mess
if there's a droid handy, i'll need that too
and lots of rope

i'm going to get this thing flying again
 
 
01 January 2016 @ 01:04 am
after seeing that last post, was thinking of the disappearances in general.
not just the handful that have also vanished without a trace recently.

just worried that people have been a little too quick to assume that everyone vanishing are going home, even if that's what the ship did each jump when it was still spacefaring.

so does anyone have other theories as to where people have been going?

home after all? taken? obsolete?

perhaps our "friends" in the jungle may have an idea?
 
 
13 December 2015 @ 08:01 pm
This isn't a Support survey because Support no longer exists, but if you have a moment:

(1) Are you working on anything you need help with?

(2) Do you have help to offer other people?

(3) Do you have any weird skills that you don't currently know how to use but might come in handy someday if we're in the middle of a crisis and need someone with e.g. an extensive knowledge of 1800s Australian history to save us all?

(4) If we make a short paper guide to where we are and what's happened, so that in the event that we're all killed in one go by acid rain or vicious dinosaur-bears but the ship continues to turn out new people, they have something to go on, what do you think should go in it?

(5) Do we have a better name than dinosaur-bears?

Thank you. :)
 
 
20 November 2015 @ 10:00 pm
So since no one else is going to talk about it...

Let's do a vote. Show of hands. How many of you think we're all alone here? A whole planet of pretty woods, jut for us. And how many of you think that we can't be alone. Maybe there's some city out there. Too bad you can't leave the camp.

And how many of you think that we're, like, totally surrounded. I hear that's a thing. Because there's spears, and they're stealing from us. Blah, blah. Tell me something real. If there's someone out there? I'd like to get to them first. I'd like to think everyone would agree with me, but I'm sure I'd be wrong.

Actually, you know what I'd love? I'd love for them to come by and try to get at my stuff. Consider this an invitation.
 
 
25 October 2015 @ 09:58 pm
[The mirror begins showing a view of Tyke, somewhere in the jungle, a frown of consideration pinching her brow as she looks down at the surface. After a moment, sure that it's "on", she turns to the side, image wobbling violently as the mirror is passed - possibly a little forcefully. There's a very blurred view of more jungle, a brief glimpse of Charles Xavier, and then the image finally settles on Oxford.

Who, for the record, is wearing a somewhat amused but unimpressed smile. Making the new(ish) boy do all the talking, hm? It’s hard work, being the prettiest face for camera. Since, yes, that’s what they based the decision on for who was doing the talking.]


Good day — [What, fellow stranded jungle dwellers? Oxford tries not to wear his most corporate, people-pleasing smile. This isn’t a generic business speech, this matters, and as a result, his expression is faintly grim.] I’m Oxford, most of you will know Tyke and Charles. Some of you will also know we recently went on something of an adventure, and that’s what I’m here to talk about.

The long and short of it is that we appear to be stuck within a particular territory. A sizeable territory, admittedly, but still something of a limitation in the grand scheme of things, I’m sure you agree. [There is a possibility someone here is either giving him a look or a pinch that says get on with it. Oxford laughs mildly, gesturing with a vague hand in a vague direction.] Once you hit a certain distance out there, you start getting nosebleeds, headaches, and my strong recommendation is not to keep going. Please.

[And people using themselves as living test subjects, which he keeps to himself but adds a light note of strain to his voice.]

While we don’t know exactly what it is, we have our suspicions that it’s something to do with the… consciousness that Charles discovered before, that we’re still connected to it. Tethered, if you will. We realise it doesn’t seem like much information, but if you have any further questions, we’ll try to answer them to the best of our advantage. Take care out there, everyone. Don’t push your luck with the perimeter, if you happen to reach it. [He pulls a sudden grin, seemingly out of nowhere.] And now I’m done talking in my daft teacher-voice, you’ll be glad to know.

( ooc: replies are likely to come from oxford, tyke and charles! post is backdated to a couple of days after the stampede. )
 
 
10 October 2015 @ 11:59 pm
[ The image that appears on the mirror screen is not a person at all, but the ground. Specifically a patch of dirt, scraped smooth by the Tranquility's slide. There is a tin can half-embedded in the soil, and what looks like it might be a blanket in a lump beside it. ]

So, things are falling from the sky. Apparently? I assume I'm not the only one who noticed.

[ A hand, tanned and scabbed, enters the frame to gesture at the stuff, flicking a finger against the can. The noise it make sounds like someone flicking a tin can. (Dull in more ways than one. Also like it might hurt a little.) ]

Did anyone happen to see anything that might explain this? Did anybody find anything extra weird or interesting? I knew this planet thing was seeming too normal to be true.
 
 
[ 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.
 
 
[ jax is leaned back in one of the seats on the gunnery observation deck, twisting his heavy rings round his finger. the comm is propped ostensibly on his monitor while jax slouches back, ill at ease. ]

While we're chewing over Odessa's offer, I got something else to put on the table.

[ more like a heads up. jax's expression is serious, the twist of his rings a more clear show of anxiety than he's displayed on comms in his entire stretch on the ship. ]

Our rescuers've got us surrounded. Sensors are picking up a mess of ships out there. I figured that's about as worthy of discussion as everything else she and her new best friend are puttin' on the table.
 
 
[ 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. ]]
 
 
19 July 2015 @ 11:21 am
[Since coming out of the Jump with four years of new memories and six months of isolation, William has organized his thoughts somewhat. Most importantly: happiness requires survival. Apart from that, some nebulous but helpful facts about manifestations and the way that Clarke Griffin's life sucks unadulteratedly lately. He has this on his mind when he gets to typing.]

william tsang again. i'm a dr. now but you can just call me william.

for the past 3 weeks, ms. clarke griffin and i have been working on using manifestations to replicate equipment and supplies. we've determined that magical effects won't manifest (e.g., potions), but functioning technology can be duplicated to the extent that the person knows what the fuck they're doing. the effects will outlast the manifestation. although we haven't worked a lot on anything besides what the department needs, this probably applies to other stuff you're interested in.

please share your tech specs, but don't leave advanced weapon details unlocked/unfiltered. you may want to direct those remarks to xg, sec, or gunnery. thanks.

do you have an intermediate-to-advanced understanding of biochemistry, physics, and technology as it relates to medicine? let us know. we may have some stuff to share with you. thanks to the regular occurrence of disasters/emergencies, most of our work is focused on triage, mobility, and crisis stabilization. the medical bay is equipped to provide practice.

our current replicable medical inventory includes:

- procoagulants
- handheld cauterization devices (heat, but also laser, chemical)
- defribillators
- epinephrine/injectors

these resources may be extremely helpful while we have our abilities, but dangerous too; again we need you to practice until it works or not fuck around. we may also be able to advance your knowledge thanks to our new abilities. dr. bones mccoy and tadashi hamada are especially tech-savvy, and might be willing to provide more guidance. i will be consulting about manifestations of tech that's more invasive or is of risk disproportionate to the scenarios you're likely to need them in.

again, galadriel is deputy cmo should i be kia/whatever. cheers.


OOC: Corresponding mod note here. You can also fire me questions/corrections via Plurk/PM. Sorry for the spontaneous name-drops, Medbay! Note that ~practice~ involves cloned tissue rather than human experimentation. I can start a log if you like!
 
 
11 July 2015 @ 10:12 am
I haven't really been around. Sorry about that. [ Samantha needed the downtime after her stunt with the void, now she's socially refreshed with a better handle on her new lifestyle. She stuck with the buddies she made in her first month to help her learn about life-in-space and the telepathy-crap. ] I'll try to be more social from now on.

Nothing exciting happened. I got the hang of this mind reading stuff thanks to Rey. It's pretty awesome after you get over the nosebleeds. And I've been working on my dream walking when it decides to fucking work. It's hard to concentrate with the headaches. And I don't know what the Below I'm doing.

Long shot to ask, but does anyone know anyone that might have some freaking experience with this dream stuff?


[ ooc: dream walking permissions! ]
 
 
09 July 2015 @ 11:07 pm
Tests conducted on blood samples taken from the prisoner quarters have identified DNA previously isolated in samples taken from gurneys in the labs.

[ No hello, no good evening, Tranquility. Erik delivers the news with flat affect, leaned lazily off center in his seat. He’s wearing a white lab coat, one eye masked blind behind a patch and the other set dead on the comms device. Speaking of blood, the fingerprints smudged into his lapel are a familiar shade of reddish brown, for those who’ve been on board long enough to ruin a shirt or two.

He doesn’t look happy to be here. These days he rarely looks happy to be anywhere. ]


[ And Charles is here too, his own comms device sat in front of him and transmitting nothing, fingertips occasionally tapping the screen in favour of shuffling around paper notes.

He also isn't happy to be here, but he combed his hair and everything. His lab coat is clean. ]


The gurneys, along with reinforced cages, appeared on level two of the science department several months ago. Relics, perhaps, of the genetics lab that came before. As for the samples themselves, they contained evidence of human and animal hybridisation.

The blood stains also possessed inactive nanites, which meant I wasn't able to identify them definitively using the nanite technology that's been made available. However, I took some micrographs, and compared them with micrographs taken previously, and they were visually identical to active nanites with programming functions like
[ and you can hear the disdainful air quotes as he reads it off his device ] "manticore advancement" and "manticore adaptation".

The manticores were prisoners. They were moulded by Van Rijn’s scientists.

[ Erik is more concise. He seems to be having some trouble separating his teeth. ]

Naturally Eszter has been mum on the subject of interplanetary conquest.

More vocal on the topic of saving the human race as she knows it. [ Somehow, Charles' input doesn't really undermine what Erik just said. He elaborates; ] I believe that what went on in the science department was kept a secret -- the majority of the original crew had no idea what was happening. They believed the Tranquility was their salvation and hope. I was able to get-- this impression from Charlotte Danaiu. What she knows is rather limited, but what she has access to knowing is. Greater.

[ This isn't Charles' favourite part, because it feels beyond his usual abstraction. He manages not to glance at Erik. ]

The presence I've talked about taking root in the ship, that has access to our minds, that has abilities we've begun to tap into-- upon talking to Charlotte, and reading her mind, I received the impression that it came here on account of the manticore experiments. I don't know how, or what it wanted, and I also know that no one on the ship intended it to happen, but-- it's what I think Resnik meant, when she talked about retribution for their sins. Something about what they were doing brought it about.

[ And he finishes there, not so eloquently, but unsure how to talk about it much further. ]

We’ve decided to call it Moira.

[ Also eloquent. Erik picks up again before Charles can interrupt with more than just a 'seriously?' side along glance: ]

We’ve consolidated what we know about it and the humans we’ve encountered from this universe into a table anyone can update. I’m attaching a link to the file to this transmission.

The aim is transparency and education. We should all be on the same page.


[ He leans forward to disengage the device, filling the frame. ]

Thank you.

[ OOC: Erik is maroon, dark green is Charles. FILE LINK - this is an IC document, feel free to contribute with IC knowledge and experiences. Characters need not feel obligated to identify themselves when making entries. ]
 
 
30 June 2015 @ 04:05 pm
Hey. So here's an easy poll. Bit shorter than the standard, just one question.

How many people aren't getting any of the shit everyone else seems to be getting? I mean none of it. Can't exactly say that I'm sorry but still. Universal experience excluding a few of us? And there's got to be more than just me.




[And what's the significance? Is there any? But speculation is dangerous, and he's got paranoia enough on his own, so. It'll just stay at that, for now.]
 
 
04 June 2015 @ 09:27 am
curious updates from this side of the ship, in continuation of this last post.

since then, several things have occurred in direct relation to the effects I last described. the observable ones include:
  • inc░░░░sed pain and bleedin▓▓░▓░ly treatable by physical contact with others (see medical's update re neurological damage)
  • the psychic observation being that the "ripping" sensation continues in earnest where that membrane area is attached to our minds, and physical contact triggers a "strengthening" of that area that resists that ripping
  • it also appears to make that membrane area "thinner"
  • the psychic whiteno▓░ going on behind the membrane seems to have increased in activity (imagine an angry beehive)
  • as of latest observance, I can sense the ripping/pulling become weaker
  • last but not ▓▓░st, ▓▓░cinations/projections of various stripes tailored to past experiences or ▓▓░chological states
  • here's the thing.

    when I talked about this presence before, I talked about its influence exerted over us -- as if the membrane were a window, and the ░░░ng on the other side of it is shading through its influence like light.

    what I've begun to sense is the opposite:
    I believe we are imposing control over or towards "it". I think it is trying to detach from us, for whatever reason, and we are collectively not letting it break free, and this resistance is only increased via physical proximity, and the more the merri░░░░░

    in extension and in support of that idea, I think we have more power than we realised.
    in the past week, I have ob▓▓▓ed our ability to 'find' people and dimin░▓ the effects of our projections. not only are we overcoming these projections ourselves, but it's very possible that we are in fact generating them by accident, and focus is allowing us to tame them. I think we are even changing our environments around us to 'find' people more efficiently, however subconsciously, and that this "thinni▓▓░ of the membrane is granting us access to these abilities.

    I implore▓▓▓▓o remain in contact with others to avoid harm. those on the passenger quarters end should gather together and equally try to help people get to safety. the clock is ░icking towards next jump and we have friends on the wrong side of the ship.

    we need to st░░░ ░onsidering how to get them back and whether we have the power to do so.
     
     
    16 May 2015 @ 01:52 pm
    [ Charles Xavier has managed to time this video for a moment when he isn't bleeding from the face, but his face is quite white, like maybe he has been not so long ago. When he speaks, his tone is level and informative-- but in most other ways, a certain amount of anxiety radiates off of him.

    One of his eyes has blood blotting over white at the corner from burst blood vessel. ]


    I wanted to share something I found when I was asked to examine Felix Laurens. Some of you know I have psychic abilities and-- well, now all of you do. [ Ha. Ahh. Anyway. ] I sought to find out what-- prevented him from speaking directly, or caused him to behave in strange ways, and a little about how he came to be here at all. Last we knew, he was dead.

    What I found was a second presence, buried deep in his mind. His consciousness was separated from it by a sort of psychic, membranous barrier, which I don’t know the nature of. In my haste, I broke through the barrier so I could understand what it was, and-- initially, it was just. Sounds. Memories. Thousands of them, and I wasn't able to make any sense of it. But there was something else, too, something intelligent and aware that seemed to see me, like a single searching eye, and tried to-- do something. Pull me in, is what it felt like, to all that noise. Felix helped break off the connection before that could happen, and I experienced symptoms not unlike the ones we're experiencing now.

    [ Charles hesitates. Taps his fingers against the desk. Continues, to the point. ]

    It's in everyone. Everyone's mind.

    This barrier is, anyway. It reads to me as being "thinner" [ you can hear the quotation marks in his tone ] for those who have been here longer, and "thinner" for those that attended Shepard's recon mission a while back. I haven't looked beneath it since I observed it in Laurens, but only because I fear that I'd find the same thing.

    It's also-- I believe-- causing the rolling side effects we're all experiencing now, or has something to do with them. I've observed that there is a resistance happening, a ripping, like the barrier is trying to detach from our minds, and then when we seek physical contact and the symptoms abate, the barrier strengthens. Perhaps it isn't a barrier at all, but a--

    [ He stops. He hadn't want to ramble and speculate. ]

    Study is ongoing, anyway, about what it means for us, what it does to us. I'll put up my own findings in the archival timeline, and keep it up to date. If-- if anyone like me is looking to confirm this phenomenon, I can't stress enough that it's important you go carefully. It will overpower you, given the chance.

    [ Grim public service announcement executed, he tries to consider how to sign off. ]

    For those that are newer, my name is Professor Xavier, with Xenogen. Sorry about all that.

    [ Aaand cut. ]
     
     
    ( this isn't exactly how enfys planned to introduce herself to the ship's network, but in fairness, enfys hadn't actually planned to do that in the first place, having not exactly been given a lot of 'figure out what the fuck' time before some more 'seriously, what the fuck' got loaded up onto her plate. she's been scrolling through for information - thanks, person who put up all that support info, you're a doll - but it's sort of a truncated quest, given that she has a very specific problem needs dealing with posthaste.

    his name is ivan, and she's currently standing on his throat. )


    Right, hi, so--

    I have a vampire needs drying out. I had a look at the info, but I'm gonna be straight with you, I skimread because I'm in a bit of a pickle, so if I'm barking up the wrong tree, by all means, forward me the fuck on. You lot looked about right. Anyway, he's--

    ( she breaks off. unseen, she manhandles ivan briefly to get a look at his arm. there are some sounds that do not suggest this is an entirely pain-free enterprise. )

    Number is 035 189. He's having a bad day, he should sleep it off behind a nice strong lock. I can get him there, someone just give me a bell and let me know where I'm going. Navigating from, uh, the stasis pods. Which are disgusting, in case anyone needed a reminder from fresh eyes.

    Ta, much.
     
     
    08 May 2015 @ 05:24 am
    "Recently, you've all been told that there is a traitor.

    "So you should probably know what it was I did."

    [She pauses, searching for the words while she lets that sink in for a heavy moment. One might note that her tones are different; she doesn't sound like her usual robotic self when she speaks. Quite the opposite, actually. Rey sounds almost like-human. In her own way, you could say that this her one big "fuck you" to Smiley. You think she wouldn't tell everyone? Well, now she is. Full disclosure. So there.]

    "I entered the dark corridors shortly after the DUPRR crew had docked the ship. Before long it became apparent that the things infesting the hallways weren't approaching me with any hostility. Because they weren't attacking, I was able to reach the secondary shuttle bay more or less without much incident. During that trek I made an effort to avoid others, not knowing the extent of the compulsion and whether it would also drive me to harm anyone who stood in the way." [Well, it's mostly the truth she speaks. You're welcome, William.]

    "All that remained was the DUPRR pilot, Neson. Needing his trust, I tricked him into coming with me by pretending to be a person who was trustworthy. It's something I've become rather good at, actually -- pretending to be someone else, much like how I am right now. Despite the fact that something wanted me to kill this man, I decided to will against it.

    "It didn't work as intended.

    "Instead, I took him to the White Room. I opened the door. And I led him through.

    "He's likely still in there right now, where it's kept him."

    [She stops, still dizzied from the jump. The more she speaks, the more hoarse her voice gets. She hasn't been using it that much lately, and it's clear from her shadowed eyes and worn features that she's been neglecting more than just sharing this information.]

    "Apparently, doing this has-- 'stopped the clock', whatever that means.

    "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
     
     
    08 May 2015 @ 11:30 pm
    ( people acquainted with milagros would be forgiven for being concerned that her being seen making a video for the network is a harbinger of terrible things, because she doesn't exactly strike anybody as 'a social type'. in fairness, this is not a social message, but although she is the bearer of some bad news, it's largely housekeeping and her brisk attitude reflects that. the backdrop to her message is a desk in an office that will look familiar but not quite right to her patients-- all the right small touches, subtly wrong locations.

    her serene air remains as it ever does, suggesting vaguely that she's waiting for something to impress her, and finds the universe slightly wanting. )


    A few brief announcements on behalf of Medical and Xenogen.

    To the first - I have recently left my position in the Medical department and taken one in Xenobiology and Genetics. This will affect none of my current patients, who I will continue to work with from my new space, but means that I will no longer be taking on medical cases without a referral through our CMO, William Tsang, who is welcome to bring patients to my attention at his discretion. Any of my current patients who wish to have a referral back to someone remaining in the med bay full time are free to speak with me about this at their leisure.

    Further, to Xenogen, Professor Snape is no longer with us as of this past jump. If the professor was working with you, please speak with us at Xenogen to see that your case is referred to the next most appropriate member of our current team. If you have concerns about your referral, Professor Xavier is available to discuss them with you.

    During the previous jump cycle, Professor Snape relinquished his authority as CXO back to Professor Xavier, who retains that role going forward and with whom you should also speak if you are interested in joining the department. Like all departments, we are experiencing a dearth of intelligent, inquisitive minds; we are currently looking for those of a scientific background to round out our team, but will consider other relevant expertise.

    ( and she's not allowed to veto people, apparently. god, charles, you'll let just anyone in. (yeah, he let her haughty ass in.) )
     
     
    05 May 2015 @ 09:37 am
    Hello. Sirius & I had a go at mapping the ship, & it went a bit wrong.

    Not wrong like the boggart went wrong. Don't worry. Everything is fine, except our map, although to be safe everyone should avoid the lounge on 005 near the 070s rooms for a day or two while we sort it. It's possible that the spellwork is off. But as we're actually very good at this (I promise) the more likely explanation is that something else is off.

    If things had gone according to plan, it would have been a map that was anchored to the ship & able to move with the corridors & so on. It's hard to explain what happened, but we have it recorded.

    ATTACHED )

    It still looks like that. We've been watching it for a while & nothing has changed. If anyone has any ideas, we would love to hear them.
     
     
    02 May 2015 @ 11:36 am
    Something happened.

    [there's a moment's pause. It's taking a lot to make this post. More than he thinks he's capable of. But after all that happened with dean--]

    During the recent…invasion.

    [okay. Right. He needs to just get it out and deal with the fallout afterwards. His voice sounds more certain when he continues. As though he's simply reciting a few facts as opposed to potentially gaining a ship full of enemies.]

    Those who have been here for some time are likely aware of the existence of a creature from my world called a Hellhound. They are invisible beasts capable or tearing souls from the bodies of the living in order take them to Hell.

    A number of them arrived during the recent invasion. But without passage to Hell available to them, they deposited those souls in a place they considered safe. Here, that meant the room assigned to me.

    [and that's…where it gets difficult again.]

    Souls are one of the strongest sources of power in existence, and my Grace had been depleting for some time. I didn't…think. I—

    [okay. Let's try this again.]

    There are those here who people may have noticed have been behaving differently since the invasion. They may not be sleeping as much, or they may be capable of pushing their bodies further than they should. They may be less empathetic than they once were.

    There is a possibility that they are a victim of this. If that is the case, their souls are with me.

    I need to return them.

    [another pause, and a final--]

    …I'm sorry.