[This is Death, this is Death with the skull face/body, creepy eyes, black robe and if you look off to the side you can probably see a scythe. He does however have a cat sitting on his shoulder like it's a totally comfortable place to hang out. It might look a bit weird is what I'm saying. Death however speaks up.]



[The cat on his shoulder does not seemed freaked out by this skeleton at all, in fact it may be purring.]



[Come have tea with Death....and his cat. Please?]
11 February 2015 @ 09:33 pm
[The face of a young boy sitting quite casually in one of the shuttles appears on the screen. All the steady eating has brought his apparent age closer to nine or ten, even if he's really probably thirteen.]

For the new people, my name's Gavroche. I work down in the shuttle bay. Everyone needs to help out on board. If you want to learn about fixing the shuttles, I can show you all about it.

[19th century street urchins are the obvious experts]

If you want to actually learn to fly them you should talk to Monsieur Wash, his number's CFO» 023 » 064. He's the one to talk to about actually joining up, too.

[He's about to hang up when he remembers one more thing]

Oh! I noticed there were an awful lot of new kids this jump. We should stick together.
11 February 2015 @ 05:01 pm
[This is the first time Dorian's used this strange device of his to broadcast, though he arrived during the jump before this one. Best to be sure of what you're doing, to take care and try things out so you don't look like a fool. There's also no reason to speak to the group unless you have something important to bring up.

And oh, he does.]

As I remain here, I've gotten more and more concerned. Upon arrival, it was easy to ignore, as there were so many things to get used to, but I'm afraid I can no longer continue to stay silent.

[Dorian holds up the jumpsuit he found in his locker when he woke here. There were his mage robes as well, luckily, which is what he's wearing now - and perhaps that explains the look of disgust on his face.]

It's a travesty that some of you choose to wear this. It's so dull - no colors, no fine fabrics, no accents at all. Is there truly nowhere to procure decent clothing onboard this space ship?

[He says 'space ship' carefully, the unfamiliarity of the words sitting strangely in his mouth.]

I desperately need to be directed to a tailor. There must be other options. This simply cannot be borne.
10 February 2015 @ 01:15 pm
[ There's a muffled fumbling sound, followed by some tapping on the communicator to check that it's working. Having never used anything remotely technologically advanced beyond a clunky walkman that plays cassette tapes, she's still trying to get a handle on how these things work. ]

Jeez. [ Muttering. ] How the fuck do I even-- [ Some more experimental tapping. ] --Oh. Wait. I think I got it.

[ She's got it to her ear now. There's a nervous pause as she listens for any sign of… something. Uh. Maybe she should just talk and hope someone talks back. ]

Um. [ Fuck. Think of something to say, Ellie. ] Sooooo. Stuck on a giant creepy spaceship. Great. That's a first. Oooor… apparently not, because apparently I've been here before? Which, y'know. That's totally not creepy at all or anything. Though, guess it would've been nice to have had a liiiiittle bit of a heads up about that when I was spat outta that blue gunk stuff? Whatever the hell that shit was? Someone to tell me something like, jeez, I dunno, "Hey, little girl, just so you know, you're on a giant fucking spaceship, which you've totally been on before, try not to freak out". Or, "Hey, sooo here's how you work this… phone… thing… which I can tell you've never used before, even though you apparently have and just can't remember it". Ooooor, "Hey, just a heads up that you've been kidnapped - …uhhh, again? …I guess? - aaaand you're gonna be stuck here for the next however long leaping through wormholes and other comic book shit you're probably not gonna understand, have a nice fucking day".

[ She's rambling. Nervous. Trying not to come across as nervous. Probably failing. ]

Soooo, I guess, on that note? Anyone wanna fill me in on what the hell I was doing the last time I was apparently here? Or… [ A pause. The thought of other people like that Marty guy telling her they know her sends a chill down her spine. Makes her feel reeaalll unsafe and out of control. She's doing fine enough as it is with feeling unsafe and out of control without a bunch of strangers talking to her like they know her making it even worse. ] Actually. You know what? Maybe it's best you don't. This place is creepy enough as it is without weirdos talking to me like we're friends or something. No offence or anything.

Oh. By the way. [ No one can see it, but Ellie is rubbing her nose - a nervous habit of hers when she feels scared or uneasy. She has to muster all her strength to not sound as worried and scared as she actually is, especially about what she's about to mention next. ] Guess I should, um, mention while I'm on this thing that I'm looking for someone. An old guy, with a beard, looks pretty pissed off most the time, like he's got a giant stick up his ass.

[ A feeble attempt at trying to sound lighthearted, like she's not worried about not being able to find Joel. There's a pause, though, followed by a quietly worried exhale of breath. ]

I'm gonna guess he's probably… not… [ Can't bring herself to finish the sentence: probably not here. ] Uh. Look, if you see a guy wandering around who fits that description, answers to the name Joel? Just... just tell him there's a little girl looking for him.

[ Another awkward pause. She swallows hard, trying to swallow back the slow burn of panic that keeps trying to rise up her throat like bile. ]

Oookay. I'm done here. Over and out. Or… whatever.

[ More fumbling noises. A quietly muttered, "what the fuck, how do I turn this thing--" and then the feed ends. ]
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 August 2014 @ 11:51 am
[ Mr. John 'The Sickbay is Too Good For Me' Sheppard had been fighting the symptoms of illness valiantly ever since they'd begun. Now - frankly - he looks like shit. His eyes are hollowed out, his wrists are ragged with cuts, and sweat is clinging to every visible part of him. Oh, and he's still incredibly blue.

But that is not why he's posting to the network. That, in fact, would be because he just ripped his comms device off his belt an flung it at the closed door he's having a fight with. The communicator bounces off the wall and lands with a view of the dark stairwell above him, and viewers are subjected to the sound of him yelling and beating at the door with his fists, something which occasionally includes him backing across the frame and throwing himself with superhuman strength at the closed doors.

Which don't budge an inch.

After a moment he backs off, glowering with gold eyes at the closed door, before the recording light from the floor catches his attention, and he scoops up the device. He sits back on the second step behind him.

This is John Sheppard reporting for TCGFM news: I am officially done. Done. This ship can eat me. I'm not going round again. I'm not doing it. [ He swipes sweat off his scaled forehead, and enunciates: ] I am staying right here until whatever malicious, corridor switching, version of Doom Satan it is runs this place unlocks this door. You hear me? I'm done!

[ He pressed his fist into the center of his forehead briefly, then spoke again, and now most of the loathing had soaked out of his voice. ] Okay, so I've got time to burn. Let's talk sandwich fillings. Subway - remember Subway? - you can order anything, let's hear it.
21 August 2014 @ 09:23 pm
[Ianto could make a big announcement, Petrelli-style. He could talk about the last time people started getting sick (though he's fairly certain this isn't stasis sickness all over again), or how everyone should band together to help each other and keep an eye on each other. He could propose that people voluntarily go to the medbay to get their blood tested, or ask people to compare symptoms and severity.

As if anyone has the bloody energy for all that.]

Is there anyone who isn't sick?
As a recent arrival, I'd like to know where to go and to whom I should speak about securing a position in one of the departments.

Thank you for any assistance.
08 August 2014 @ 11:34 pm

so i noticd that no one knows how to do pretty much anything and i figure as long as were all stuck in the same plae with the same people there are at least a few basic things a lot of u should know, esp you new people. theres probably going to be a bunch of people offering to teach you how to cook or work the elevators or whatever or asking you to join departments (you should do that!) but what people WONT tell you is that the ship isnt the only thing that can fuck you up

as long as were all being shoved into close quarters everyone should know how to defend themselves especially if youre small and dont know how to fight someone whose bigger than you r. dont feel like getting jumped in the hall or getting sucked on by a vampire? then i can show you how to take care of yourself

if you want to be in this class fill out this form. if i approve it ill give you a date and time for when were meeting over a secure channel

previous experience:

the ship wont let you have a gun if you dont have nanite access but anyone can get a knife so im mostly going to be teaching ppl how to use those. so just go to a kitchen and get one
23 July 2014 @ 10:32 pm
[When the feed opens, Taylor isn't in the SEC offices. She's in one of the holodecks, recognisable from the walls behind her.]

My name's Tyke, I'm head of Security here. Petrelli's already told you all how thin on the ground the departments are getting, so I won't repeat - you've got any combat or policing experience, you want in the Security department, contact me or Edgeworth for recruitment.

Thing is we're thin on the ground all the way. Thirty-three floors housing approximately two-hundred bodies. We're scattered. It makes us vulnerable. Blind spots for this place to use when it wants to fuck with us.

[Like randomly luring people out into the dark. That had been too easy, even with so many of the contacting other people.]

We're moving to consolidate population before the next jump. Bottom ten floors, more than enough room for everyone. Find an empty room, lock it to your nanites, it's yours. You need a hand moving your shit, my team'll help. This is gonna take the strain off Agriculture's supply runs, our security patrols, and let everyone look out for each other. It'll keep us stronger. Safer.

[She sounds determined, steady about it. This is what they need to do. Should have done months ago, when Jenna had first suggested it. Regrets on that aren't going to help, though, and she looks away, tips her head slightly.]

Meantime, figured some of us might wanna let out some frustrations. [There's a very faint smile in the corner of her mouth, and it fades quickly.] Fight club, Holodeck 3. Same rules as always: no weapons, hand-to-hand only, no abilities unless agreed upon by both fighters. Someone taps out or goes unconscious, fight is over. Spectators welcome.

[[ooc: accompanying mingle/fight log over here! ]]

[[ETA: and a spreadsheet for claiming a new room! You can't unclaim your original room and please be reasonable with how many you take!]]
17 July 2014 @ 10:45 pm
I am the shieldmaiden Lagertha. I was among those who vanished into the corridors just before the nightmare began.

[ to put it nicely. ] There was no sign of my son during my wanderings.

For almost two months, several of you have told me that he isn't here. Or that giving up is the best thing to do. I never will.

[ too bad. the world has jaded her in a million ways and one. but bjorn is all she has left. without him, she has nothing. that just is not acceptable to her. it's bull-headed of her, but it isn't as though she cares. ]

However; I understand that rushing off blindly without a plan is hardly the wisest plan ever made. So, while I form one, I'd like to spar with as many of you as possible. To build up my strength.

[ if she doesn't, she'll go mad. ] Win or lose, there's still a pint or two of ale in it for you if you'd like to try besting me.
17 July 2014 @ 12:18 pm
Hey everyone.

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

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


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

(ooc: feel free to treat this as threadjack city as far as I'm concerned. if you squint it's kind of almost like an ic cr meme?)
16 July 2014 @ 07:43 pm
I'm missing a Dwarf. [ The introduction's abrupt and distracted. It's also noticeably Scottish, and there's the sound of a locker banging shut before he continues. ] Not a dwarf-dwarf, it's a— it's a drone, and it's a very, very delicate piece of technology.

He's not responding to remote commands, so either he's been damaged or someone's— [ Someone's disabled it or shut it away somehow, which isn't a very charitable accusation. Fitz corrects himself for the sake of diplomacy. ] He's gotten himself stuck somewhere. About the size of a golf ball, black, blue lights. I've attached a picture. If you've seen it, please give me a call.

[ Losing important robots, great start. The feed ends as abruptly as it started, but Fitz picks it up again about half a second later to add a quick: ]

And if you've stolen one of the roombas, I'll be needing them as well.

[ Diplomacy!! As for the promised picture, he completely forgets it until a few minutes later. So, somewhat belatedly: grumpy.jpg. ]
14 July 2014 @ 09:17 pm
[The video comes on to reveal a normal-looking 15 year old boy, lying on his bed in his quarters on the thirty-third floor. It looks like he was messing around with the smartphone and accidentally started recording. He makes a stupid face or two for the camera, but once he realizes it's actually going out to people he sits up and looks sheepish.]

Uh, hi. So... I wanted to say thanks for the smartphone, I guess. Always wanted one of these. Too bad it comes with a price of "holy crap I'm stuck in space."

[He looks off to the side, worried. Then back to the camera.]

Look, I get that nobody knows why we're here, or how to get home or anything like that. But it sucks, okay? And I can't be the only one who feels like saying that. I mean, I have stuff I need to do back home. [Under his breath, he adds,] And I'm totally gonna get expelled if I miss any more school.

We don't... have to go to school here, right? There isn't some space high school they're gonna drag us to, is there? 'Cause the only thing worse than chess club is space chess club, am I right?

[No one is laughing at your joke, Sam.]

Right. Well, uh. Later!
14 July 2014 @ 04:59 pm
Got a couple of requests.

[ his cut is stripped off and draped across his lap, one desert eagle resting atop it. jax is in his faded white "reaper crew" t-shirt and shoulder holsters. he's sitting tipped back in the chair. his boots are resting on the edge, not that it's within frame. ]

Anyone with some technical know-how wanna swing by the gunnery? See, we been doing what we can on these fucking turrets and consoles, but there's some shit that's beyond us. A bunch of them are too fried to work, and that's a problem, assuming the shit that goes bump in the night comes at us from the outside. Back home, we get a second opinion before ripping out the guts and starting over, so anyone thinks they can shed some light on the situation, I'll owe you one.

[ it's not as detailed a description as it could be, but as far as jax is concerned there's only so many ways to say "fucked beyond comprehension" before getting redundant. he tugs at the strap of one holster, pausing like he's letting that sink in. ]

I also gotta ask, anyone up here capable of tattooing? It's not like I've seen any place capable of it since we made our last stop. Am I reaching here?

[ probably, but a man's gotta ask. ]

Hey, Hyperion. I gotta talk to you too. You got a minute any time soon?
11 July 2014 @ 07:23 am
[Johanna flicks on the video with a glare. The room around her is dark; the screen lights her face from below. When she speaks, her voice is a little rough and hoarse, like she's been shouting a lot, very recently. (She has.)]

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

And that's where this comes in.

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

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

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

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

21 June 2014 @ 08:10 pm
You're not alone. People you care about are calling for your help, and you want to go help them. I'm going to ask you to be a little more patient before you run off into the dark. We know they're lost, we know there's something pursuing them, we know they need help. But we also know that the most recent post on the network, the one talking about warnings from the captain - a captain we don't have - wasn't made by one of us. That means this problem is bigger than you think; it's bigger than all of us, and it's important we get a clear image of what we're facing before we leave. Shepard's team has gone missing, and other comms have started going off the radar too--we'll start where they disappeared, and if we do this together, we might even succeed. The last thing we need is more of you lost out there because you chose to do this on your own.

Right now I need your help in a different, but just as important way. If you've received a message from someone, we need to hear them. That way we can establish a thorough list of who's missing, and try and piece together what they were all trying to say.

Tyke, as Head of Security, is going to coordinate the rescue. I imagine she'll speak to you shortly herself. Rest assured we'll need bodies on the ground for this one, and I know there's going to be no telling some of you to stay put, so forgive me if I - at least - save myself the effort of trying. The corridors are dangerous: bring weapons, ammunition, your communicator, but don't worry too much about rations--you won't need them.

[ He seems about to sign off, but he has to address that post, the grinding static and the screams underneath it, all of it so familiar to him by now. ]


"They're getting closer." I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like a coincidence. Whatever we find out there, whatever is after our people, try not to kill it unless you have to. Don't get killed, but bear in mind the risk that we may be deceived into murdering people who would be our allies. I can't shake the feeling that we're being set up. Alright. Hang in there, everyone.
08 June 2014 @ 08:38 am
[Unanon. Not that anyone will necessarily know to think 'Holy shit.']

Hey, good ol' buddies of the TQ. I need a doctor. So I guess if you're in medical raise your hand or something. Thanks.

02 June 2014 @ 10:43 pm
[The video feed shows a very pale face in a rather dim room. A popular solution, most likely.]

There are some things I'll never understand about this ship. How it can make people sick without a stomach.

[THere's a grimace and her next comment is directed down toward her lap.]

Ow, Rincewind, claws.

[She looks back at the camera]

The other being how they can enhance these feelings when I don't have nerves.

[Seriously, having to be so mortal is getting annoying!]