01 November 2013 @ 07:24 pm
I normally wouldn't advocate this particular method, but I'm so very tired of all this endless bleeding, on my part and on the part of everyone else.

[ there's a beat, irene shaking her head, fussing with the pipe that was once sherlock holmes but now belongs to her. ]

So in the interest of making this easier for all of you, let's give this another go. A proper go, and see if we can't match a few of you up with less effort than running around like headless chickens.

If you've a bit of memory, just make mention of it. Do be detailed enough to attract the attention of the owner in question, but discreet enough so as not to upset those would prefer their privacy. And then hope for the best.

Here now, I'll start. I'd like to know who it was that was kicking my stasis pod so violently while I was in stasis coma. Do make yourself known.

[ irene smiles, ( hi ned!! ) and then she cuts the feed. ]

[ ooc | i've turned off comment tracking, so please feel free to threadjack away in here, use this as craigslist, whatever you like! ]
 
 
28 October 2013 @ 07:25 am
Contact.

[ will sounds like he's giving a lecture when he comes on the screen. he's looking directly into the camera — it's easier to make eye contact with a device. ]

That's the key to all this. If you're receiving foreign sensation, you need to track down the person it originated with and make skin-to-skin contact. It'll stop the side-effects, and eventually — hopefully — break the connection. Doesn't have to be more personal than a handshake.

[ a pause, and he glances down, off-camera, visibly discomfited by the fact that the hand not holding his device is in the grip of another. ]

An... extended handshake. Whatever timer this thing is working on, we think letting go resets it.

[ the screen’s upended as sherlock hijacks the device, settling on his face (at an admittedly slightly awkward angle) a moment later. ]

But in the meantime— I’m sure you’ve all noticed that the physical links are current, unlike the memories, and arguably offer us a great deal more control. Passive sensations are the exception, but if I were to hypothetically hit my hand — as our resident neurologist has demonstrated — then Mr. Graham would feel it. [ and by hypothetically he means he's tested it, several times. ]

In the case of mutual sensations, like, say, holding one’s hand, this creates a unique feedback loop; the sensation of their hand in yours, and yours in theirs, et cetera. [ speaking of hand-holding, holding will’s hand is getting in the way of his usual gesturing; the screen's unsteady as a result. ] While I'm reluctant to test the theory with present company — no offense — I imagine this could apply to other neutral or positive sensations. If one were to engage in sexual intimacy with their link partner, for instance, then the moment of—

[ in another blur of abrupt motion, will takes his device back — and also his hand. no offense. ]

Better reset the clock to zero, Mr. Holmes.
 
 
17 October 2013 @ 08:30 pm
[Initially, he was going to give a proper sort of introduction over the network; enough time had passed for him to "settle in", as it were, and he felt it necessary to pierce the veil of non-communication sooner or later.

But now, the point seemed rather moot, what with everyone's memories being tossed about the place. It appeared that the residents here were already forcibly getting to know each other a bit better.

Regardless, he settles for text.]


What does it feel like to have your most cherished memories, your most hated actions, your darkest secrets -- all potentially flitting about in the head of a complete stranger? Is it freeing? Humiliating? Or are you indifferent; what is a single memory without a lifetime of context, after all?

And as for those who would rather not wax philosophical: Hello, Tranquility. What a welcoming this is turning out to be.
 
 
13 October 2013 @ 10:47 pm
[This is a new voice. A smooth voice, canyon-deep and deliberate in its enunciation. Occasionally, the speaker breaks from his practiced tone, but, for the most part -- this sounds like a professional.]

Hello, everyone -- however many people and non-humanoid entities that word may entail. I won't take up too much of your time tonight, but I'm sure you've all noticed it by now. The stray feelings, arriving out of nowhere, and with no apparent courier. The images, too.

Oh, the things I've already seen so far. The things I may never stop seeing. The things now imprinted, permanently, behind my eyelids.

[He sighs, but he doesn't sound aggrieved. It's a soft, dreamy exhale, a gentle 'aah' that's slightly incongruous with the low, dark octaves of his voice.]

I just wanted to say, to whomever may be behind this: you're doing a great job. Simply fantastic. We had an emotional entrepreneur in my little hometown, and I thought I was impressed by their work, but this is a cut above! Full-featured memories, delivered right to us, and without any long and frustrating sign-up process.

It's a great service, and you're performing it so efficiently. Why, if this keeps up, I may never have a feeling or thought of my own again. My sense of self might become completely sublimated to a foreign set of memories and experiences. I would have no identity-based responsibilities whatsoever.

Dream vacation, right?

So keep up the good work, whoever you are. Five stars.
 
 
[ here's the thing: sleep deprivation makes idle whims seem like fantastic ideas-- and neal's not full up on self-control as it is, so two weeks of barely any sleep just raises great idea to best idea on his personal scale.

as such he's leaning against the wall behind his bed, pupils slightly blown. what is an intro he can't even. ]


Not we, my dear, you. I'm leaving you here.

You're what? Rhett, where are you going?

I'm going, my dear, to join the army.

[ his posture changes between; other than a few flat vowels slipping in as rhett, pushing for the accent seems a little too much and posture is good enough to convey the suggestion of gender, if you're careful. ]

Oh, you're joking. I could kill you for scaring me so.

I'm very serious, Scarlett. I'm going to join up with our brave lads in gray.

But they're running away.

Oh, no, they'll turn and make a last stand, if I know anything about them. And when they do, I'll be with them. I'm a little late, but better late than--

[ it's tricky to overlap your own voice, and his grimaces a little and shrugs as if apologizing for the lack of actual interruption in the scene. ( sleep deprivation or pretentiousness: the world may never know. ) ]

Rhett, you must be joking.

Selfish to the end, aren't you? Thinking of your own precious hide with never a thought for the noble cause. [ he yawns widely, skipping scarlett's line in the process. ] Why? Maybe it's because I've always had a weakness for lost causes, once they're really lost. Or maybe, maybe I'm ashamed of myself. Who knows?

[ he pauses, body language returning abruptly to his usual. ] I missed something, there. Anyway-- [ and back to the show. ]

You should die of shame to leave me here alone and helpless.

You, helpless? Heaven help the Yankees if they capture you. Now climb down here. I want to say goodbye.

[ that makes him pause, one that extends out into another jaw-cracking yawn and neal slumps down even more, almost prone now. ]

There's more, but it's really better with someone else.

[ and he's out. ]
 
 
13 September 2013 @ 05:23 pm
[ She'd just as soon use the video function if 'sleep deprived' was a better look for her. But it isn't. She's got bags under her eyes that are barely concealed with makeup and her hair is tossed up in a lazy ponytail, not to mention she's wearing her pajamas. So she sticks with text for now, even if her future plans involve being seen by people anyway. ]

Anybody up for mani-pedis? I can't sleep and I'm bored.

[ Because mani-pedis are always the answer, right? ]
 
 
13 September 2013 @ 12:20 pm
[The feed opens on a very green view of some dense shrubbery. It holds there for a second before panning to the right, where the greenery breaks at one of the many paths Agriculture have slowly been clearing through the overgrown jungle of the Oxygen Gardens' upper levels.

There's something blocking this particular path, though: an instrument that looks similar to a piano, but smaller and of a more ornate shape. It's clearly out of keeping with its surroundings, would look better maybe in someone's library or up on a stage (or in a museum), and quite how it got there can't be determined, the foliage around it completely undisturbed - but it hasn't been there long enough for any of the plants to encroach and start making it a fixed feature of the gardens. Yet.

The video stays there for a moment, giving the viewer a good look at the harpsichord, before Josias turns the comms to face himself, expression quietly amused. Then he cuts the feed, with the following text sent immediately after, obviously typed up in advance.]


As lovely as it is to see a real harpsichord in person, the gardens are hardly the proper place for it - for numerous reasons, least of all being damage to the instrument itself.

I'm assuming, given the way we tend to be delivered things from home, that this belongs to or has some significance to someone on board. If you could come claim it as quickly as possible, please. I'm sure we can even spare some staff to help you move it to a better location, if need be.

Thank you.
 
 
21 August 2013 @ 12:24 am
Tranquility!

[ though it's been a while since she had spoken to the ship, Lucrezia seems to be in a merry mood. All silks and ribbons and pearls and most importantly, a cheerful, bright smile that has been somewhat absent during the last few weeks.

She might seem exactly as she did when she first arrived here. ]


I am bound to announce on the presence of one very important on our ship. I have given him enough time to present himself and since he had neglected such, I will be handling his introduction.

[ this is the life in the Borgia family. ]

Announcing the arrival of His Eminence, Cardinal Cesare Borgia whose robes have not been provided by the ship yet it cannot take from his devotion. A man of brilliant thought and sharp mind, wise and knowledgeable in languages, history, strategy and certainly in dance!

[ oh my God, Lucrezia, he would want them to fear him not wish to dance with him but what can you do. ]

One of the finest men our Rome had ever cared to deliver and I promise myself not to be terribly biased by being his sister.

[ a smile and then. ]

I would wish for you to show him the same kindness you had shown me; I have told him only gracious things about the ones who inhabit this ship, it would not do for him to think his own sister a liar.
 
 
15 August 2013 @ 01:23 pm
[ sherlock's in space. he's more or less come to terms with that, because the facts don't lie, and the facts say space - or at least a working model. he could ask targeted questions about the informational posts and the major players. he probably should, though he's fairly sure he won't get much more than what he's already gotten by reading other people's conversations.

the priority, currently, is the ridiculous reactions people keep having to his name. ]


2 Qs. 1: Have U heard of SHERLOCK HOLMES. If Y, which 1.

[ he's aware of a few. the question is admittedly petty and self-indulgent (and possibly stupid), but it beats working blind. ]

& 2: NE1 have HANDCUFFS? NTHG 2 trade, CHRITBLE DNTN.

[ unrelated to the first question, obviously. that's it for a few seconds, then: ]

Also ROPE. 200lbs/SWL 10, 5 @ push.
 
 
14 August 2013 @ 12:52 pm
[The feed clicks on to reveal a woman who has certainly dressed to leave a very specific impression. But the difference between this, and the woman who seemed kind, but lost in the locker room, is staggering. Her entire countenance though polite, is detached. Regal, and severe]

While I have only been here a few short days, I have already become acquainted with plenty of information on the circumstances we find ourselves in. We find ourselves in. We have all been taken from our homes, from our duties, our families- And any course of action should be decided on and taken together.

We should not be a group divided and yet we are. It's come at a great cost. [It's clearly not a rehearsed speech. She pauses as much for effect, to allow it to sink in- As she does to gather her own thoughts for the best way to continue. Her only aim is to generate discussion- To perhaps set up the building blocks for change, because things certainly can't continue as they have. She's done enough digging to be quite sure of that, ty pirates]

The information- it can be difficult to find, or simply isn't being shared at all- Intentionally conflicting or misleading. Primarily between the separation amongst the departments. How can we hope to return to our homes, to enter fruitful negotiations with those running this ship, without trust? Without making all our resources available to each of us?

I'm certain this is an idea that has been shared before, and so it is my hope that some of you are like minded, and that if you are not- I have said something that will resonate with you. Offer you a new perspective. If you would like to talk about this matter further, please, don't hesitate to contact me. My name is Padmé Amidala.

All opinions should be heard, and I welcome them. [She doubts she'll get much of a response, or much of an agreement- rather, the population is far too large for that- But it's a start]
 
 
12 August 2013 @ 11:26 pm
Is anybody here a fan of Poe? I got this in my locker last jump:

[There's the sound of a paper rustling. Firo clears his throat.]

"Thy soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy..."

[He continues to read, impatiently speeding up at the end so the lines of the last stanza run together.]

To be honest, I never really got the end back when my friend used to read it. But it’s creepy, isn’t it? Really suits this place.

What I'm wonderin' about is if it's supposed to be some sortta threat or message. 'Cause just comin' out and sayin' it would be too easy, right?
 
 
12 August 2013 @ 05:04 pm
The ship at large should be pleased to know that not all of us were recipients of mangled body parts at the most recent jump. The time-honored Tranquility tradition of strange gifts from home magicking themselves into our lockers is not lost. Some of you were just unlucky this time, it seems.

That said, I am now in possession of a quantity of yarn, among other things. While I do not expect the aforementioned 'other things' to be of interest to anyone but violin enthusiasts and collectors of cocktail glassware, I have a hunch that knit goods such as scarves or communicator cozies might be somewhat in demand aboard a ship that rarely, if ever, deigns to pit stop near actual civilization. I am willing to offer this service in exchange for other goods and/or services and/or information, and can provide references and examples of my work.

In the event you enjoy this craft or would like to learn, I've also been given a few sets of spare needles, provided you don't mind that they seem to be made of suspect materials. If there is enough interest, we might even be able to start an organization more colloquially known as a "Stitch and Bitch". We have a great deal to talk about these days, after all.


((OOC: Hit up the opt-out post if you'd like me to turn the text off!))
 
 
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 @ 06:36 pm
[Right, okay. She can do this. It's just a piece of technology and Jenny's good with that. The video clicks on to show a young woman with bright blond hair pulled into a ponytail and a plain olive green shirt. This particular girl is standing near a window in the shuttle bay. When she speaks it's with a decidedly British accent - for those that even know what that means.]

Hello, I'm Jenny. [She gives everyone a smile before turning her attention to more serious matters.]

This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I set out to explore the universe. If I'd wanted to be stuck somewhere I would have stayed on Messaline. Out of the tunnels and into the hallways isn't much of a change. What do you people do here for fun besides get creepy things in your locker?

Does anyone know if people's ships show up here? I don't exactly know what happened to my escape shuttle so if it turns up let me know. I'd like it back, it's something I borrowed. [Borrowed she says with a bit of amusement. Who knows when she'll get the chance to return it.]

Seems my dad might've been here at one point. [Not that Jenny recognized the face to go with the name. Technically it isn't really even a name.] Can't say I'm surprised, he does travel a lot. So if any of you know the Doctor, I'd like to meet you.

[Okay, now she's done.]

Right, thanks.
 
 
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.
 
 
10 August 2013 @ 11:58 am
[Eponine's holding the video upside down. Not that she's aware of that. Actually, she's only just managed to get the thing on and working without a barrage of messages about jumps and vampires and some sort of Smiley. Coupled with men who claim to be dead, no matter how nice they might be, and a woman who hands out silk shifts as if they were dresses - and food - Eponine's just a little bit overwhelmed.]

I cannot be dreaming. It has gone on too long - it is too lovely to be a dream. And it feels too real to be in my mind. But... but only, how can it be true? How can any of this be true? Such things where we can see one another when we are not face to face? And... and the man speaking of a vampire and blood - how can it be? Is it magic? Is magic real?
 
 
09 August 2013 @ 06:53 pm
So now that I've read the handy little welcome manual and have established that this place is entirely too creepy--

[ She looks at the screen and sighs. Traces of concern and what might be fear accompany her mostly unamused look. It's probably pretty obvious that she took the time to make herself look at least semi-presentable before contacting the network. Her hair looks generally tucked into place and her usual daily makeup has been applied. ]

Is there anybody here who knows me? [ She expects at least a few yeses. She's practically New York royalty in her world. ] My name is Charlotte Clarke. I want to know if my family's here. The Graysons. Or anybody else from my world, I guess.

[ She basically just doesn't want to be here alone. ]

Also, I need to speak to a doctor. Preferably one who knows what they're doing.
 
 
09 August 2013 @ 10:57 am
[Godric is sitting, slumped casually in a chair in one of the common areas when he turns on the video feed. When he speaks, his tone is soft but clear, and he remains thoughtful as he speaks unhurriedly. This isn't a speech he's had planned out, but he knows what he wants to say.]

With every jump, we receive a variety of new passengers from a variety of different worlds. To some, this ship is not so dissimilar to what they are accustomed to. To others, it is the most foreign thing they have ever known. The worlds we come from vary like grains of sand, and although the welcome guide offers a rudimentary introduction into the unknown, and an invaluable insight into what has already come to pass here, it can only do so much to ease the culture shock.

As our worlds are different, so too are there differences in the types of people we are accustomed to, and how we react to those people. Some of you have vampires in your world, or werewolves, or shapeshifters. For others of you, these are merely fictional stories. But this ship acts as a nexus, and the first thing that any of us must understand is that all things are possible here, and not all things are as you might expect them.

I am a vampire, and not the only one aboard this ship. There are a few of us, but we are as varied as our worlds. Where some of us may have no reflection or cannot be recorded, for example, [he smiles here, the humor obvious] my kind certainly can. We have different cultures and different sleeping habits, and indeed, different eating habits, which is the thing that naturally concerns most newcomers.

While all vampires feed on human blood -- the sole thing we all have in common -- it can affect us differently according to our natures. Some of us, it seems, choose to refrain entirely from its consumption and come to no harm for it. Some of us can eat food and survive on that alone, the same as any human. And for those of us for whom this is not an option, there are synthetic options provided by medical, as well as many kind and generous people aboard who have willingly donated their blood so that we will not starve.

I tell you all this to reassure anyone who has recently come aboard, and found themselves alarmed by our presence. While I cannot vouch for all of us any more than a single human can vouch for all his species, I can say that most of us mean no harm, and wish only to live as peacefully as we can here. I tell you this also so that any vampire new to this ship can understand we are not in hiding, and that aggression is not welcome. And while I cannot speak for any other supernatural species aboard, I hope you will all understand that you have friends here.

[He leaves off there, but leaves the feed open for questions.]
 
 
[The second level of the Gardens is in the background and Netherlands? Might as well be the personification of so done with this shit instead, right now, and when he speaks his voice is tight, not tired.]

There's another goddamned dinosaur here.

[His lips thin, and the next part of the rant is way off-script but like he cares. So done.]

The Gardens aren't the ship's fucking playground. They grow food. Make oxygen. Filter the water. Air, and shit. It does not have to house all of your goddamned pets, or be your living room, or test area, or vacation, or - whatever the hell you think it is. It's a pain in the ass to take care of. Without half of you treating it like it's your right to take advantage of and then leave for the department to clean up. The department isn't big. There's four levels and kilometers of produce to take care of. We'd be too fucking overworked even if you assholes didn't tear up the place whenever you fucking felt like it.

[HUFF. He scowls and crosses his arms, and yeah, he's going to keep right on with the telling the entire ship how he really feels, in vividly pissy detail.]

Stop treating the gardens like they're yours. Because you all suck at owning shit. [Well - a flicker, unsure.] Most of you, I mean.

[Yep and then he's back to business.]

If it doesn't stop, I'm finding a way to lock out anyone who isn't in the department.