16 December 2015 @ 11:15 pm
Answer any of the following privately to receive a more difficult puzzle in reply.

1. What is the name of the land of fire with the burning mountain in it?

2. There is a four-digit number, with digits abcd (d in the ones position, c in the tens, and so on), that fulfills the following conditions. What is the number?
    a = b/3
    b = b
    c = a+b
    d = 3b

3. You are running in a race. Just before the finish line, you pass the person in second place. What place did you finish in?


1. Search with your mind, not your feet. This is for entertainment purposes only. Don't go looking for a burning mountain.
2. Send answers privately. Don't spoil it for anyone else.
3. Unless someone donates prizes, the only prize is more puzzles.

Read more... )
27 November 2015 @ 09:17 pm

[ USER NAME: blake ]

blake's dating service? anyone? ( she's not looking to kick it off again okay she's just curious as to how many people remember that shit storm ) for the people who avoided that little gem, little bits of advice/tips/etc. on surviving in a wild forest with things that want to kill us? might be helpful for people who aren't used to this.

i'll start: please please please always be careful about what you stick in your mouth. don't get me wrong i can't tell you how to live your life, but i don't feel like a repeat of a whole camp tripping on hallucinogenic nuts.
08 July 2015 @ 04:46 pm

[a pause. okay, so this really sucks. he hadn't asked him about keeping her here. hayley wasn't on the list, and now--]

Hayley Marshall has gone home, which...I guess is a good thing. She had a kid back there, and...

[no, it sucks. and now that means he's down one of the few good things he had left here.]

Whatever. She's gone, and considering it looks like nobody else turned up this jump, she probably won't be back.

I just wanted to make sure her friends here knew. Sorry.

locked to beacon hills crew;

[a lock, and a short delay while he works out what to say here. he isn't sure how well any of this will go down. whether he even can come back, given all that's happened. but he at least has to try.]

...I want to come back.

[it's a quiet admission. it's still difficult, and he doesn't know how he will take this. (he's not fooling himself in to thinking that he can't see this.]

I want to come back, and I know you're just gonna want to lock me up again. But don't make me stay in there. You can't.

[it isn't a statement. isn't anywhere near as certain as it would have once been. instead, it's a request. a plead. he wants to come back, but he can't if it means staying locked up indefinitely.]

Tell me there's a way to make it work. Please.
18 May 2015 @ 10:42 am
All right. I’ve got two things.

So if gettin'... um... close to people makes us bleed less, it seems like now would be a good time to get people together to spar. So I’m offerin’ now, if anybody wants to meet in the gym or whatever.

[Because that should work just as well as holding someone’s hand or hugging them, right? And it’s much less weird and embarrassing--Firo's sure that the ship's intending to torture them even more with the "solution" to their problem and he'll do his damndest to get out of it.]

And the second thing I got... Well, it’s kinda gross, so I won’t show it right here. You’re welcome.

[He hesitates, realizing he really should have rehearsed this at some point. How the hell does he explain this?]

I got an eye in my locker. Thought I’d ask around and see if anybody wants it, ‘cause I sure as hell don’t want this thing hangin' around and watchin' me sleep. Somebody said Medical might be interested.

And no, it’s not all gross from sittin’ around. I’ll show you if you want.

[By all rights, it should be kind of gross, given how long ago the jump was. This eye is a bit... special. As most immortal eyes are.]
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. ]
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?
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."
28 April 2015 @ 02:20 pm
[ Home vs. the Tranquility is an obvious choice for most people. For the ones from somewhere particularly awful, the ship's the better option; and for some, there isn't much of an option at all.

Fitz had spent several months thinking he was part of the latter group. He'd thought home meant certain death, so he should appreciate cheating it while he had the chance. Since that had been proven wrong, home had resumed being the obvious choice, despite all its complications — but now Jemma's here, and things are somehow better than they'd been back at the Playground. Add to that a friendly research team offering help to the passengers of the TQ, and the end result is dwelling on questions he probably shouldn't be.

And a broad question for the network, minus much context.

Whenever the ship's docked somewhere, it's been too dangerous to stay. But if it wasn't, or if you could get off the ship without going home, would you? If it were possible to go somewhere safe. Different, and not home, but safe.
08 February 2015 @ 07:38 pm
Hi, hey, howdy, konnichiwa, what's up, and how's it hangin' — been a while since I did one of these.

I mean, it's been a while for this place, anyway; I'm still wrapping my head around, you know, the whole "you were gone for like months" thing when I feel like I've never left. Pretty fucked up, right? I feel cheated out of some trauma or whatever. Good times. But seriously, I've heard it's been as rough as it ever is; hope you guys have been hanging in there. I've only been back a month but it feels kind of tense after that spooky monster problem.

[That said, Marty is actually in a great goddamn mood, so he's gonna damn well spread his cheer.]

As payment, I like to formally introduce you to Marty's Power Hour here aboard the Horror Ship Ala Mode. If you've got any Top 100 Songs from the 80's, 90's, or early 2000's, just shoot me a request and I'll see what I got! I can't guarantee anything, but at least you guys can always clean your weird ol' space rooms to the beat of some of the greatest Earth hits ever. Featuring mostly old pop and rap, because those are the single most important genres of all time. No offense, rock, plenty offense to country. 


Here's a good ol' classic, from me to you! Don't do drugs, kids, unless her name is Mary Jane.

And just for your information, I do know the entire dance routine, thanks.

[There's a click, and his shitty old self-fixed CD player is spinning out a tune:]

23 January 2015 @ 10:57 pm
[ The feed opens on the familiar view of the security offices, and the possibly very familiar view of Tyke looking really annoyed. Though central on the video, there are two young men stood behind her, one looking particularly sullen, the other sheepish but friendly. ]

For any of you newer to the ship, my name is Tyke, I'm head of security. I'd give you the usual rundown on what that means, but we've got more immediate shit to deal with. It's been reported that there's a creature called a boggart loose on the ship.

[ She says 'report' and 'boggart' half incredibly unimpressed, half irritated. ]

This boggart shouldn't pose an urgent threat, but it's still gonna be trying to freak people out.

[ At which point she decides she's not the one that should be explaining the details of weird magic monsters, and steps back enough to nudge Remus more fully in front of the camera.

He knew it was coming eventually, but Remus still gives Tyke a startled look, then Draco an expectant one, shuffling to the side to make more room for him in the frame. There's a long second before Draco moves an inch in a helpful direction, his expression stormy and focus cast past the camera lens like he's ignoring it as Remus addresses the network. ]

It's a nonbeing--a nonhuman spiritous apparition. It can't hurt you-- [ is a lie told out of the impulse to be reassuring, followed by a mild grimace and swift correction. (And a cynical glance aside from Draco.) ] It won't kill you. It might hurt you. We're very sorry about all of this.

It will appear as something that frightens you. Whatever you see, it's not real, but it is corporeal. And amortal. You can't kill it. Get away from it, and let one of us know where you saw it. If we can pin it down somewhere, we can take care of it.

[ No they can't. ]

It will help if you stay in pairs or groups. If it's trying to scare more than one person, it might make mistakes.

You might get lucky, [ because Draco had to chime in eventually. ] If you're a-- if you're non-magical, you'll probably be too dense to see it as anything but a figment of your imagination. 'course, maybe not now.

It'll probably be found in dark spaces, you know, waiting in your wardrobe or under your bed, or in the bathroom before you turn the light on, or--

[ Remus steps on his foot--placidly, but not very subtly. Not interested in letting anymore wizard squabbling get played out on the network, Tyke neatly steps in again. ]

We'll be working on containing and dealing with it. Stay in your rooms unless necessary, report any sightings, and keep your heads level.

[ The last thing she wants is real passenger on passenger harm done because of this thing stirring people up. To her side, Remus tightens his mouth in a way that's half smile and half wince, like well there you have it, and glances at Tyke to check for permission before he shuts off the feed. ]

[[ ooc: blue is tyke, red is remus and green is draco! ]]
08 January 2015 @ 04:53 pm
[ It's been a while since Killian's bothered with the network, and anyone familiar will notice some obvious changes. He's looking 50% less pirate, for one, though he probably still qualifies as a modern facsimile. His hook's out of view as he addresses the camera, flashing a broad, agreeable smile. ]

I realize we've all got more pressing matters to attend to, but if you've a moment for a quick question—

[ A brief pause. He probably should've thought this out before starting the feed. Instead he's running on irritation, and it's only now that he's second-guessing the idea of being completely upfront. Gold may be gone, but the ship isn't precisely full of saints. Telling them his heart's gone missing is a vulnerability he'd rather keep off the table.

And even if they haven't got villainous intent, he's pretty sure the majority of them will just make bad jokes. Vague it is.

If you've found anything curious in your locker with the past jump, I'd like to hear about it.

[ Plenty vague, also plenty easy to ignore. As much as he doesn't want to be asking for help in the first place, there's already been about four near-death incidents he'd rather not repeat. The smile fades, expression more sincere as he makes a reluctant addendum. ]

I've recently made a trip home, and it seems something of mine's been misplaced on the way back. Anyone who assists me in finding it, I'll be in your debt.
15 November 2014 @ 07:44 pm
[ Skye's mostly watched the network, sending a few texts, but otherwise avoided people in any form since she woke up here. She's getting a little tired of ducking behind doors, though. It's like being back in her van and after being on the bus for so long, she's actually feeling lonely and claustrophobic at the idea. There has to be someone here with useful answers. ]

So is everyone here from Earth or what?

Anyone heard of SHIELD? Or HYDRA? I know someone who's really into Captain America. Is that a thing here? Is it too much of a leap to assume that you've heard of America at all?
13 November 2014 @ 09:32 am
so what do we know?

[ ooc: threadjacking encouraged! ]
27 October 2014 @ 02:59 pm
Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.

[Nick looks only mildly amused. He's actually had that happen, and it's not so fun, but someone's already said that they're working on it, so....]

There's way too much crappy art on board this thing, and not enough crappy artists showing themselves. I'm getting a little bored of chasing ghosts.

['Unnerved' would probably be a better word, not that he'll admit it.]

So if anyone's got a deck of cards or some dice, let's get something going. We don't even have to gamble, not unless you're willing to take a silver filling for payment.
Who cares if you die?

( feel free to interpret that however you please, denizens of the EXTREMELY POORLY NAMED tranquility! all possible interpretations are acceptable in harry's current state of complete emotional breakdown. he probably doesn't care if any of you die, for instance, and may bitterly resent you for having an actual answer to this question.

who cared when norman died? who really cared. people mourned the man who'd contributed so much, but that man was an idea. an image carefully cultivated. harry knew enough to know better, but even he wouldn't pretend to have known his father, and who's going to care when harry dies? just like norman did.

harry's legacy is just disappointment and isolation. his best friend is his only friend and he's pretty sure they're totally not friends any more, also. everything sucks and he broke a bottle when he got back to his room and he can't be bothered to clean it up, he's just going to sit here and hate all of you, publicly and violently, and

you know, by text, because he looks even shitter than usual. )
15 September 2014 @ 08:59 pm
Hi. This is Claire Bennet. You might know me. You might not. Nathan Petrelli is my father and, obviously, that means Peter is my uncle.

At this point, I'm sure that everyone is aware, but if you aren't: they have both gone as of the last jump. I'm not really equipped to deal with the holes that they left in their respective departments, so I won't waste everyone's time trying to offer a helping hand in that capacity or anything. I hope the positions get filled soon, even if they are big shoes to fill.

My main thing here is that... well, Nathan and Peter left me with three dogs. I thought about giving the two puppies up for adoption and, you know, running a background check to make sure potential applicants had never murdered a hamster or anything like that. But the more I think about it, the less right it seems to give away something that isn't mine to give. That being said, I need some help in about two departments here. Okay:

1. Can anyone go over the process for getting animals into the grav couches before the jump? Is there a special procedure I should be aware of? Do I just... plop them in there or what?

2. Is there any kind of, like... doggy daycare out there? Should there be? Should we just organize a ship-wide animal meet-and-greet of some kind? Along those lines, let's talk puppy play dates. Not even necessarily with other puppies. I know the dogs spent some amount of time with the comms department, too, so if anyone ever wanted to walk any of them... that would be great.

I'd really like to do this right, since they belonged to my family, and they obviously both cared about them.


EDIT: does anyone know how to use a sword? Specifically, a samurai sword.
04 September 2014 @ 05:32 pm
[ The video feed begins on a room bathed in Christmas lights. Or at least in lights that are red and green; certainly there's no holiday cheer of any sort involved. It's not the steadiest feed, but it moves slowly as it sweeps across the space. A flashlight beam follows it, illuminating large tanks full of fluid. The color is difficult to make out, brown beneath the color filters of the lights. ]

This is Kate Bishop and the search team. [ Her voice is recognizable despite its hoarseness, and she speaks at a normal volume, no whispering. There are other voices in the background, and shadows shift as other people (members of the team, one hopes) move around the space. ] We believe we've found the source of the stasis fluid. It's a room sealed to Medical access at the end of a long corridor of supply closets leading away from the Medbay toward the center of the ship. The doors we've checked have been marked with red paint and should lead the way. [ You know, just in case they for some reason don't make it back. You never know around here. ] You'll know them when you see them because every one Sirius checked is marked with a dick.

ANYWAY as you can see, there are tanks. That fluid is blue, it looks like stasis fluid, the light's just weird in here. You can't see from here but there are pipes that lead toward the Medbay. More importantly [ She moves forward here, toward a bank of control consoles, and the light follows and sweeps across them. She names them in turn. ] Oxygen Management, Gravcouch Management, Nanite Management. We can access the system but it won't let us make any changes. What we can do is take the tubes of nanite fluid physically out of the system, but when we started to do that we got a bunch of errors. I think if we take them out the couches just won't fill at all at the jump. So we need to have a plan if we're doing that. Maybe bringing shit here is a better idea? I don't know how things're going in Medical, you'll have to let us know asap.

Anywa-- what? [ Another voice in the background has the video wheeling as Kate turns, and there's a queasy moment of dipping and spinning before she gets it focused again. In the frame now is a small cannister of the sort used in the Science Department. It is sitting on the floor next to the console. It is uncapped. Someone's finger Hook's hook points at it. ] We just found this next to the Nanite Management station. We'll get it back for testing since it's pretty damn suspicious.
30 August 2014 @ 01:27 pm
[ Kate feels as miserable as most aboard but at the moment looks on the better side, pale and flushed at once, dark circles beneath her eyes, but seemingly in possession of all her hair and limbs and minus any conspicuous growths. She's sat on a bed in the passenger quarters, comm propped on the bureau near her head as she looks into it. Her voice is thick and hoarse. ]

So whatever this is is clearly only getting worse. I know people have been testing the food and water and air and seem to be coming up empty, and the only other thing I can think of that we've all been exposed to is the stasis fluid. The gravcouches have all been drained, so unless anybody has a sample lying around to test... I'm thinking we go find where it comes from. If we can find the source maybe we can figure out if it's been tampered with or infected and how to cure this.

[ She pauses to clear her throat, fingers pressed against her neck. They're even paler than the rest of her, grey-ish in comparison, a sickly purple around the nail beds. ]

If anyone wants to help, let me know. The more the better. Especially if you know more about those parts of the ship. I don't have departmental access to anything and there's a lot of this shithole to search especially if we keep getting locked in the elevators trying to get anywhere. [ Or getting sidelined by hideous mutations and unbearable pain, but that goes without saying. ]