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. )
 
 
25 October 2015 @ 01:14 am
I’ve captured two of them.

[ Erik is still short of breath, teeth and eyes cut bright against the mud smeared swarthy around the cinderblock of his head. ]

Juveniles. They’re penned in the clearing outside of camp.

[ He blinks hard, blind eye rolling white in its socket. ]

I’m not sure what to feed them.

OOC: Backdated to just after the stampede. OOC post with details here.
 
 
18 October 2015 @ 11:36 pm
[There's a distant rumbling in the jungle, like an imminent thunderstorm on the horizon. But it's not a storm, that much can be seen when the mirrors activate sometime around noon, if not a little before.

[Surprise! It's Rey's face. She's in a tree, trying to hold the mirror as steadily as she can while the ground continues to violently shake. As mere seconds pass, one can tell that it isn't an earthquake, either.]


"Head's up. If you're in the jungle, you may want to take higher ground just to be safe."

[She shifts the mirror towards the ground below, from where she's standing in a tree. There is a whole herd of hooved animals roughly five to five and a half feet tall, while smaller ones are struggling to keep up behind them.

[As they blur by, some may notice the spears jabbed into the bodies of many of the creatures. Rey certainly has.]


"Don't know if they're headed directly towards the camp, but they'll probably come pretty close.

"...Be careful. There's a fucking ton of them."
 
 
18 October 2015 @ 06:19 pm
[Oh, but this will be short and sweet. Still, she wishes the new mirror network functioned a little differently right about now. What she wouldn't give to be able to hide the slight tremble in her voice, or eyes that are just a little shinier than they should be.]

Has anyone seen Fitz?
 
 
[ACHOO.

...

Okay, now that he's got that sneeze over with — excuse the scruffy mongrel on your mirror this fine afternoon. Sun's going down, leaving everything shadowed and orange.  He's found himself a decent opening, where he's still hidden under the cover of trees, but he's got a good glow of sunlight through the clearing. Max is — actually using the mirror, despite the nagging in his head telling him it's not a great idea. But he's just. Getting some stuff handled, okay. This is the best way to ask around without having to actually be in people's presences.

Nill don't watch this, thanks.]

... Need paper, and something to write with.

I can trade food, or radio parts. Could make a good blade for anyone if they need it.

[.......]

That's all.

[Bye.]
 
 
[even though the feed is garbled, rikkus' frustration and something akin to fear are clear in her voice]

Don't be ▒▓▒▓ing idiots. Get to medbay or somewhere not en▒▓neering! Trust me, you don't want a▒▓ of what's here.

[there's a short pause]

I need my engineering cr▒▓ on deck though. Stay together, stay safe. Find Fitz, stick with him. He'll ▒▓▓▒▒▒

[the feed abruptly cuts to white noise]
 
 
29 July 2015 @ 08:33 pm
There's somethi▒▓ very wrong with engineering. [ The announcement's accompanied by a convincing visual: a view of one of the lower walkways in engineering, the rails on one side twisted. The ladder up to the next level is warped, too, cut off several feet from the landing it's meant to be attached to. One of the walls just to the right of the camera seems to buckle as the view's turned away.

The shrill sound of metal distorting and grinding wavers in and out, a steady background noise that's broken only by short bursts of static. When the camera turns to face Fitz, the lights flicker and stay dim. Very horror movie chic.
]

I can't get back to the ▒▒ive or out of the blo▒▓ hallways, and it's— [ He pauses, glancing off screen for a second. There's no clear evidence of what's got his focus, but another low whine of metal makes it easy to assume. ]

Rikku says it's the s▒▓▓ ▒▓ the last time engineering went tits up, but I haven't been able to fi▒▓ her or anyone else since it started. [ A louder crash of noise this time that begs a second of distracted silence, then a curt: ] If you get anywhere near engineering, use ex▓▒▒▒ ▒aution.

[ Then the feed stops. ]

( OOC: Replies will happen, but they may be icly delayed! Post coincides with second part of July 31 plot. )
 
 
Our time is short, so I'll be brief.

[Since fighting could break out any minute]

Over the past few years, I've managed to amass a rather... non-Alderaanian collection of weapons. Far more than I could ever use myself, but I suspect we may need such things in the near future. The blasters are probably the most useful, but I also have a... slightly absurd number of lightsabers if anyone can use those.

[Filtered to Comms]

I'll leave one of the blasters in the department so we have somethin available at all times.
 
 
22 July 2015 @ 03:42 pm
Well, it's official. "Someday" and "An emergency" are here. We need the zippy little battle craft and we need them now. This is basically all hands on deck for anyone I've flight trained.

[With one notable exception]

And if I haven't flight trained you, these still need a crew to work the weapons, so keep listening.

We have two kinds of shuttle. Harpy have some missile capabilities but are mostly for getting up close and personal with everyone who now wants to kill us. Need at least three people to keep them working. Wyvern are for sneaking around and dropping a nasty surprise from a distance. We need at least four people working those.

So speak up if you want on crew. And if I've flight trained you but you aren't sure about actually being the main pilot on one of these, tell me now. We could still use people working the guns who can step in if anything happens.

Gavvers, Newtie, I have a different job for you two.


((OOC: I've created a Google Doc for keeping track of who's flying with who. Let me know if you want me to just arbitrarily stick your character in any crew that needs them))
 
 
[ 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. ]]
 
 
18 July 2015 @ 05:12 pm
002  
Hi! I'm Skye.

[ Waving at the camera is Skye, hair pulled into a braid over one of her shoulders, long-sleeved shirt pulled down over her hands. ]

I guess some of you already know that. I mean, not just the people I know, but the people who I don't know I know 'cause I was here before. [ She shakes her head. ] Point being ...

I know we're all dealing with the same thing right now. These powers, manifesting out of nowhere. At first, I thought it was great. You idealize that sort of thing when you don't have it, but ... [ She bites down on her lower lip. ] I've seen some pretty messed up things since then. Not just seen, but felt. What it's like to be missing body parts, to smell my own flesh burning, to kill people. And I don't—

It's not a walk in the park for anyone, okay, I get that. I just want to know if anyone's found a way to, like, control it, or stop it.
 
 
15 July 2015 @ 01:27 pm
This is Shepard. Further investigation into the empathetic connections, etc. seems to suggest consistent results throughout, with strength increasing in--

[ Crash. Shepard looks up, alarmed, then swears under her breath. ]

Hold on. [ She sets the comm device down, then calls out: ] Hey! That isn't for you to eat! ... Ah, shit. [ More grumbling, then a strange, definitively alien, bark-like cry. ] Going to have to get that replaced. [ Beat; cue thumping that increases in volume. ] Wait a second--

[ The device tumbles from its surface, seemingly held in the mouth of something that breathes loudly as it runs laps around the small room. With a few more curses, the redhead commander can be seen in flashes trying to get it back, then manages to tackle the offender with a series of struggling grunts.

Finally, Shepard again. She looks wearied and apologetic. ]


Sorry. I was going to say, with strength increasing in the manifestations, especially. Though, I'd guess it's equal across the board with these new abilities. Can't say for sure. If you've got more experience with the others, the... memories and telepathy, I'd like to hear about it.

[ She gives a few of the creature behind her, who is tearing her pillow to shreds. ]

It's a Varren. Should be harmless, but I'll keep him in here in case he gets hungry, and... uh, violent.

[ The Varren in question yips happily, clearly pleased with itself. ]

Shepard out.
 
 
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. ]
 
 
08 July 2015 @ 05:04 pm
[This month, your welcome arrives in the form of your friendly neighborhood Frenchman. He looks ... Tired is probably the best word for it but he still manages a polite smile before getting straight to the important things]

Bonjour, Tranquility. My name is Guillaume Feuilly and I am with the Support Staff. While there is much we do not yet understand of the ship and her ways, let me reassure you that we are still all quite alive despite what we have each awoken from. [There's a small wry smile at that before continuing]

That said, please make yourself familiar with the following for any answers you may be seeking.

THE RUNDOWN » What happened, where you are, what to do.
SUPPORT DEPARTMENT INFO » Who we are and what we do.
REFERENCE* » Basic facts about the ship and solar system.
A TIMELINE OF EVENTS » This will take time to read thoroughly, but we strongly recommend it.
FAQ » Please read this before asking a question on the network.
SPACE TRAINING » If this is your first time aboard a space ship, please watch these helpful videos.
LOOKING FOR WORK? » If you have any questions about the departments, track down a chief officer or someone who operates within it about recruitment.
COMPLAINT BOX » Need to get something off your chest? Bring it here. We might just be able to do something about it.

If you haven't already, it would also be prudent to find quarters in the first ten floors of the ship. There is a safety in numbers, especially recently. I would not wish for anyone to be caught unaware where no aid can reach you.

If there is any more unanswered questions, please, feel free to ask myself or any of the other members.


[There's a pause as he goes to turn the video off, hesitating for a moment before]

And a question of my own perhaps. Has anyone in fact, noticed any new faces this jump?
 
 
02 July 2015 @ 10:03 pm
[Max knew this whole stupid mind powers thing was a generally awful idea. Elizabeth and even a little bit of Rey's work on the comms (even if he still would rather glare at her, in private) had done a relatively bang-up job making Max think maybe there was a shadow of possibility this powers business would actually do any good for them. Besides — if he could calm his mind down enough to actually control it, he would stop giving away memories and hallucinations and feelings all willy nilly. So yes, he tried focusing, tried materializing things, tried to keep it all in check. Nothing too personal — just channeled it. Other than a few rather personal thoughts hovering through the cracks from other people he'd never know the names of, he has had pretty good luck.

'Til of course, a particularly rough series of nightmares had caused him to muck things up. He'd woken up in the corner of his room with something heavy and rough against his jaw and cheekbones and lips. Somewhere in his fervent dreaming, he'd gone
and materialized that fucking muzzle; the same one he had supposedly locked up in his locker, kept away so that it couldn't actually get used against him again. And now it's on his fucking face. 

So he does the totally wise thing, which is struggling pathetically to remove it with his hands before he rushes into the nearest kitchen and starts pulling out drawers and ripping open cabinets. The motions are rough and not too careful, and his network device crashes onto the ground and displays him pretty much wrecking one of your kitchen areas. This drawer? He's pouring it out on the counter and digging around. It's all spoons, who needs spoons. There's a knife and he tries to shove it under the padlock behind his head and scrape it open, but it's just grinding down the grooves on the blade.

As he pushes over appliances and spills someone's coffee, this is an approximate translation one can hear while he spits the dummy:]


Fucking [INCOHERENT CURSING] shi—fuchgk [INCOHERENT GROWLING] my face, for fuck's sake, bloodghy— [???????] FUCK!

[WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL YOUR SHARP THIN STABBY OBJECTS, I THOUGHT THIS WAS AN AWESOME HIGH-TECH KITCHEN

EGG-BEATERS ARE NOT GOING TO FUCKING CUT IT.

He tugs pretty pathetically on the long chain hanging there, slips his fingers under the thick metal bands before he tries to shove a butterknife into the keyslot.

....

THWUMP.

This the sound of his forehead softly thunking against the cabinet door in frustration.

... Well, maybe there's a decent nail file somewhere in engineering or something...

Fuck your powers y'all can eat your powers and get indigestion and cark it, for all he cares.]


((OOC: Action permissible for Nami and Elizabeth, have fun girls.))
 
 
01 July 2015 @ 05:14 pm
[ NO FILTER: MEDBAY RECRUITMENT ]
[For those who have seen William Tsang's typing at all in the past month or two, it comes as no surprise that he's opted for video. He's in his white coat, meticulously groomed and just as meticulously-- not hungover, the quiet sterility of Medical Bay all chrome and blue light behind him.] Oi oi.

If you've got experience or want experience in medicine or the healing arts, please apply today. You don't have to be a fucking brain surgeon, although we could use a couple more of those. [A beat. He blinks hard.] We've got need for: field medics and EMTs, psychiatrists, nurses, medical scientists, pathologists, pharmacists, robotics experts, magical healers, potion-makers, and people who just straight-up like to clean. We're making use of the volunteer program as well. Please give us a bell if you're interested and capable of learning. The nanites and other technology does a lot of the heavy-lifting, but we still really need personnel.

The past few clusterfucks, Medical Bay has become something of a stronghold. That stronghold is weaker when we're understaffed.

We have a few medical practitioners in these past few Jumps, although we've lost a few too. Our current staff is as follows. Contact them when you need help, and they'll do their best to provide an assist. Some are combat-ready, others prepped for room visits, and some operate strictly out of the Medical Bay.

[William attaches a spreadsheet, that is also carefully groomed of typographical errors.]

NAMETITLEMAGIC/SCIENCE AND SPECIALTY
William TsangChief Medical OfficerResidency-level Physician, Magical Healing
GaladrielHealer, Emergency Deputy CMOMagical HealingExpand roster )
[ FILTERED TO MEDICAL BAY: ...WELL, SOMETHING! ]
So, [William's masque of sobriety and lucidity is probably less convincing to those of you who actually see him at work day-to-day. But he does look decidedly less run-down today, for the purposes of his video, than usual. And very gamely, he continues:] A slew of you lot are new. Some of you are really small, and might have even gone completely unnoticed since joining due to a general failure to be observed over the counter-tops. If I fucked up any of your task and ability descriptions, please let me know, and I'll-- [he gestures vaguely.] In any case, I should've made introductions earlier.

So here goes. Any of you guys ever played doctor?

[He hoists a morbid-looking dummy into view of the camera, its plastic chest-plate missing. Dozens of sockets for missing organs, all of its alarm lights off for the moment. Someone's competing for creepiest manifestation.]

Let me know if you want to do a meet-and-greet, and I'll set up the shift rotation. Whoever ain't on-call can maybe join in a toast to Dr. Simon Tam, Lúthien, Lily Potter, and Dr. Jennifer Keller, may they be remembered as those who held any number of passengers' herniated intestines in during disasters past. Updates and advisories on the ship's latest methods of confusing and killing us, also welcome.

Even if not, say hi to each other here, too. Some of you probably need friends or some shit. [William's understanding of psychiatric health ends here!] Cheers.
 
 
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.]
 
 
22 June 2015 @ 08:25 pm
hullo im posting a survey on behalf of Support
Support asked me to
answers here please but direct all questions to mr R J Lupin hes head of Support surveys thats why he asked me to do this one for him
interdepartmental unity

SURVEY.URMOM.DOC )