16 September 2013 @ 06:36 pm
[Noah never dreamed that it would come to this - literally. His dreams are peaceful, and he wants nothing more than for other people's to be the same. And yet it only took being on the ship for a year to change his mind. But if anything could, it's the Tranquility.

He looks tired, but who doesn't these days.
]

I'm in need of a favour, perhaps a big one. I'm in the market for a certain form of training, hand-to-hand, no weapons. I'd like the focus to be on self-defense. I think.

[Suddenly reminded of those customers who used to come into his shop, wanting something but not having the slightest idea what.]

I've been unable to protect the people I care about, my fellow passangers, even myself. I'd like to change that. I believe I'm strong enough, and I'm no stranger to pain.

[He grimaces before his next words.]

I've just never cared much for hitting.

In return, you'd have my thanks, and a few dinners made with what's left of my stolen spice rack. I have saffron.

[Look, if that doesn't convince you nothing will.]
 
 
05 September 2013 @ 05:30 pm
[Have a beaming Combeferre, onscreen, wiping his hands on an apron. From the looks of things, he has been in the kitchen.]

Greetings, everyone!

I am pleased to update the entire ship on my progress in learning your new technological cooking methods, which have finally resulted in an edible, and delicious meal. You are all invited to a dinner party in the next few weeks, prepared entirely by myself.

I do hope many of you can make it.
 
 
Current Mood: happy
 
 
22 August 2013 @ 12:12 am
[Hello, Tranquility. Have a Combeferre who is obviously fascinated by something or other, by the look of intense concentration on his face as he peers out at the camera. And he’s even managing to focus on his face and not his eyebrows, so there is some progress there at least. And when he begins speaking, well, it’s obvious that SOMETHING has happened.]

Well. Tranquility. It appears that there is more on board here than we would have first imagined. The media libraries in particular, when one really attempts to delve into the ship itself, can be more useful than we’ve seen so far. I’ve come across [He snooped across, let’s be honest.]

A device which projects to my communicator and has allowed me to download

this

[Combeferre is looking into the screen expectantly again, leaning forward a little as he does this.]

I...think this has something to do with the structure of the ship perhaps? A building plan? A schematic perhaps, for engineering? There should be some way for me to send everyone a copy if someone could be of assistance in terms of the programing needed to do that? I am not quite sure WHAT I’ve found here but I would welcome any help in figuring this out.

[text later:

Edit:

With the help of the Communications department, the information should be available to all passengers who would like to have a look.
 
 
Current Mood: curious
 
 
12 August 2013 @ 01:41 pm
[The video clicks on to reveal Poppy, though those of you who have met her before might notice that she's looking considerably different. Not just her hair, but her features as well, have suffered subtle changes, enough to make you question her identity, but maybe not completely disbelieve that Super Belle and Poppy Chadwick might be the same person.]

Right. There we go.

Hello, all. You may know me as Poppy Chadwick.

[Deep breath.]

Those of you who remember my last post... I'm afraid there was a very intention behind my questions. I am considered a superhero in my home world: Super Belle. I don't suppose anyone is familiar with that name.

[anyway-] My real identity is - was a secret, and I'm sure you'll understand why this is a bit difficult for me, but - my time here has led me to believe this is for the best. I've recently joined the security team as Super Belle, so if there's anything you require, I'd be happy to offer my help.

[Pause. This feels awkward, but she got through it. Good for her!]

... I suppose that's it for me. Thank you for listening.
 
 
10 August 2013 @ 10:05 pm
Please humour me the fact I've no desire to go down there and find out for myself: was all the tech from the genetics labs destroyed? The computers are what I'm wondering about, specifically.

I believe some were retrieved shortly after the place was discovered, as well, but I admit I have no idea who they ended up with. Word on either would be appreciated. I have a personal investment, as much as I'm loathe to associate myself so directly with the place.

Thank you.
 
 
[Alex hasn't exactly been the best at sleeping since -- well, since before his brother died, really. There's his time in the hospital where they had him knocked out on medications, but he honestly has a hard time remembering any of that. Too busy living in his own little world, mostly. Since Silent Hill? He's not a fan of sleeping, period; having a few hours is good enough, and if Heather ever poked him in the direction of sleeping pills he'd have to pass on that for a number of reasons that's hard to really talk about, even with her. He's not too proud of his stint with psychosis.

But talking in general is getting easier (and maybe he should hit up that Irene chick for her heart-to-heart she asked for; maybe he will). Just like... sleeping has. In fact, he wakes up ten hours later with his eyes practically glued shut and has to roll himself out of a dreamy lounge. The dreams were good -- Josh alive and not cold and blue-lipped, Elle hugging him and inviting him out to the lake -- Murphy and Heather, acting as if nothing bad had ever gone wrong in their lives, meeting him for dinner somewhere. He dreams about living here in the ship, happy, content. Dreams that Josh would come here like so many of the dead do, and he could apologize and pray he'd forgive, and they'd get to try again. And he'd do it right this time.

Just... good things. Good -- no, great things. Even with his contentment in staying on this ship, if only for the family he's made... he hasn't been this fucking happy in a long time. Asleep, anyway.

Alex just can't bring himself to think good things just happen here. Not four for four. 

A borderline disgruntled voice comes through in an entry, belonging to a scowling face.]



Okay... ever since the jump, my sleep has been really great, and I've been having good dreams that I've never had before -- no signs of monsters or creepy shadows or... crappy life issues or anything that I usually have to work with; it's all really damn calming and I actually like all of it. Hell, I've been sleeping more than I ever have since coming on board. Since before that, even.


[.....]


Something's not right here.


 
 
08 August 2013 @ 02:53 pm
anyone else feel like they need to scrub their skin off right now?

ugh.


[ what with smiley's post and the slightly more horrified noises around the medbay and lockers, plus the inexplicable itchy feeling she'd been having that's making the hair on the back of her neck raise - almost like something was just out of sight and they were too late to know it. ]
 
 
02 August 2013 @ 06:51 pm
[Click. Oh, look. Some of you might recognize this face, even if it's on the wrong person. But never mind that Irene, Poppy has decided long ago that she's little more than an impostor.]

Right. Good evening, passengers. My name is Poppy Chadwick - I'm a reporter of sorts back home, and there's a question I'd like to ask you all so I can get a little more familiarized with the nature of our current... crew.

[The pause is deliberate, but not exactly suspenseful.]

Where I come from - I don't mean just London, I mean my world - there exist several humans who were born with super powers, most of which serve the community as superheroes. [Poppy is one of them! But she isn't going to spoil that for you yet. There's an issue called secret identity, and she's trying to figure out how she's going to work around that, if at all.] Is there such a thing where you come from? It's hard to imagine a world without them, but I've come across several kinds of people I wouldn't have imagined having in it, either, so. There we have it.

I thank you for your time in advance.
 
 
 
 
24 July 2013 @ 08:58 pm
[After a few seconds the static clears, revealing the face of a rather cheerful young man in a baseball cap. He smiles charmingly at the camera before speaking in a thick Georgian accent.]

Hey there, guys. So, I been here a few weeks now an' I was just wonderin' if there's anything you folks like to do 'round here.

[His hand comes up and he adjusts the white and blue cap, though it looks the same when he's finished.]

I been dyin' just sittin' 'round in my room all day, so... ya know. If somebody wouldn't mind helpin' me out I'd be real grateful. Thanks.

[He offers another smile before ending the feed.]
 
 
24 July 2013 @ 01:49 pm
ill make this as short as i can givven the sevverity a the situation as im comin to realize it
i spent most a this jump wwatchin all a you on my patrols an general non security wwanderins an i gotta say that some a you really need help

so basically if you need a haircut
an most a you do dont evven pretend that your owwn personal hack an slash jobs are doin you any favvors cos they most definitely arent an i havve pictures to prove it
contact me so i can actually make sure you dont look like a fuckin vvagabond
free a charge i just dont wwant the next time wwe run into homicidal pirates or alien hivve minds to be a stylistic disaster

the number is 001 » 018 so remember: if you feel like you look sloppy you probably do an that means you need a haircut



((OOC: this is real, this is happening, and im totally serious i will rp eridan cutting your characters hair if you want to do such a thing. alternatively you can just pretend eridan gave your character a decent cut at any point in time i dont know i just have wanted to do this for a while))
 
 
21 July 2013 @ 01:25 pm
[Combeferre's expression is awkward, and a little sheepish as he stares into the console, and there is no small amount of soot in his frankly wild hair, while he is cleaning off his spectacles, then glancing back into the camera.]

A question for my fellow passengers:

How does one get out of something when they realize they have no talent for it, but are already promised to work on that thing?

Also,[Combeferre's expression here is particularly sheepish somehow.] I seem to have managed some minor destruction to the kitchen on the 16th deck. Can someone explain to me WHY the silver rimming on the mugs caused it to spark and then explode? I really would like the scientific reasoning so that I can learn to understand it, if there is one.

Thank you.
 
 
Current Mood: curious
 
 
15 July 2013 @ 01:44 pm
[ There's absolutely no preamble as Jayne settles in to say what he wants to say. ]

Why'd I get weird porn in my locker? Is this what y'all look at here?

[ Because he does not approve. ]
 
 
12 July 2013 @ 12:33 am
[ hello again tranquility. three guesses who's back and looking incredibly worse for wear. even in the worst of days with the lack of proper resources during her first time around, she didn't look like this. it's as if someone had slowly been draining life out of her ( and resistance ) — well, that had kind of been the point, but let's not linger on that too much. just try not to mention how dull her hair looks. ]

I knew it was possible to come back. I mean, I saw it happen but— I guess I never thought it would. It wasn't exactly what you'd call top priority.

[ but where one might expect anger or bitterness at thought of being back, she almost sounds a little bit... relieved. if you squint. ]

At least I remember everything. [ she hopes. ] Or maybe we can play a game of twenty questions and work out if there's any gaping holes.

— one last thing. [ the comm's placed down so she can jerk up the frayed bits of a torn sleeve. there's a few bruises here and these ( some old, some from a recent incident in the gardens ), but the tattooed numbers are what she wants attention directed towards. ] This changed from last time. Anyone got a clue how or maybe an answer for why would they even bother?
 
 
[ there's a part of lydia that wonders if this is stupid. if that after her last foray ( god, why did so many people care about her problem with peter ) with anonymous text and her problems and the network that maybe this was uncalled for, maybe she should just come clean and be herself and ask everyone if they were having problems like this. except, this is just as damning, isn't it? little miss lydia martin thinks killing peter hale will solve all her problems just like she thought doing what he wanted would solve them and yet, here she was, still sleep walking, still with nightmares and still— finding her mind in pieces she didn't know were still broken. ( they shouldn't have been why were they. ) she just wants to be normal again, she just wants to feel normal again. not like whatever this is. ]

When you get gangrene the treatment is to cut off the portion effected in order to try and save the rest of the tissue. Sometimes you have to amputate things, but that's not always what happens. You think that cutting it away is supposed to help. And it does sometimes. Other times you die anyway despite the efforts and it's bullshit.

That's morbid and— I shouldn't have started off with that. Whatever, you think something will make everything right again and then surprise the joke's on you, you still feel like a mess and it's— that's still not the point and is maudlin in ways that I don't do. I'm not even that intoxicated to justify it.

Original point of this, so you don't start laughing at the anonymous freak who can't shut up and get to the point. Has anyone been having sleeping related problems? I don't mean nightmares, because of course you're going to have nightmares here unless you're some person who thinks this is a walk in the park. But, sure, tell me about you special ones that aren't just consequences of the ship. What I mean is sleep walking. Waking up in places you don't remember falling asleep in. And I guess maybe another aspect of that is— have you had black out moments here. Where you're in one place, and then in another but you don't know how you got there. And if someone were to ask you, you couldn't answer what happened. You just were in one place and then suddenly you were in another and you don't remember even walking or running or whatever there.

God, I sound like a crazy person asking this. This is why I did this anonymously. No one wants to talk to a person after they sound crazy like this and I like talking to people for the most part. I don't feel like being shunned like that.
 
 
16 June 2013 @ 06:42 pm
I'm starting to wonder if I'll be home in time for my thirtieth birthday.

[Noah still has a couple of years before he really has to worry about it, but time does fly on the Tranquility. Who knows, the next jump might be all it takes.]

I had a lot of plans centered around that number. I was going to have my own studio by then. I wanted my brother to be living with me by the time we were thirty.

[He pauses in his sketching, tips his chin up thoughtfully.]

That lovely wedding dress reminded me that I'd also hoped to be married by then...

Some things are out of my control. I can't bring my brother here to be with me - wouldn't if I could. But being here doesn't have to rob us of everything. So, Cillian-

[Has there ever been a proposal on the network before? Is there about to be one?

Nope.
]

I'll be working late tonight. No studio, but I can still do what I love. Tyke, I have a couple of those designs drawn up. Pop in and take a look, and if you're happy we can get started right away.

So Tranquility, what were your plans? Are any of them things you can do here?
 
 
08 June 2013 @ 04:02 pm
For those of you that knew him, Cambridge (SCI » 011 » 015) is longer aboard the ship.

[ That's it, that's the post. Any responses will be delayed by a couple of hours while Oxford lurks angrily in his room, waiting out his headache and trying to resist the urge to destroy what few possessions he has (you'll have more luck if you simply turn up on his doorstep). ]
 
 
27 May 2013 @ 12:01 pm
 
We don't all know each other, do we? We hoard so many secrets, because it feels safer, it feels quiet and better if we just don't give into what we want to say.

I don't say a lot. I can't. I lost the ability to speak three weeks after I turned fifteen. My mother thought it was for attention, she thought it was because I was being dramatic. I think it's the opposite of dramatic. No more voice. My voice flew away.

Everyone keeps asking for stories but I think what people really want is to learn about each other. I don't have a lot of stories.

My name is Seraphim. I've been here a year. I'm seventeen. I'm a twin. I don't speak. I don't know how to be alone, but I spend a lot of my time alone. I had a boyfriend, once, who used to call me little dove, and I think I loved the pet name more than I loved him. I play the piano and the violin. I hate going to temple, and I hate church even more. I tried to use math to prove that my brother will be alone for the rest of his life. I miss my mask.

This is the bravest thing I've ever done.

[Encrypted to Medical]

I have a bottle of drugs - they're anti-psychotics, I don't need them, I'm not crazy, I think you should probably take them from me.
 
 
16 May 2013 @ 10:08 am
 
[She sounds like every word is said with thought, intentionally, carefully. She still isn't sure everyone can hear her, that's all.]

Hello. My name is Annie, and I'm new onboard from the last Jump and I'd like to-

[Okay now she feels self-conscious]

Tea! I have tea! If anyone would like a cuppa, I have an extra mug as well, if you'd like to meet!

Are these conversations on this device usually this terrible to start?