21 February 2014 @ 09:02 am





       
SHE'S GOING TO GET THERE IF YOU DON'T STOP HER. TIME'S RUNNING OUT IF YOU WANT TO LIVE THROUGH THIS.

BETTER HURRY. :)

 
 
12 February 2014 @ 11:09 am
[ peeta's got the device propped up on something when he switches it on, and it stays steady when he steps away to take a seat on the edge of his bed. he's wearing the standard issue tranquility jumpsuit, sleeves rolled up against the heat in his room, and he leans forward onto his elbows as he begins to speak. his tone matches his posture; despite the arguably tense topic, he seems relaxed. ]

I know people are worried about what happened on the bridge. I agree that we should find out what went on inside, but others already have that covered — and I'm more interested in why none of the mutineers are dead. [ slightly harsh wording. nobody had expected them to get out of there, so there's no point in talking around it. ] I've only been here for a month, and people have a lot of warnings about the ship being dangerous, about how it's out to get us. Which makes me wonder why all of us aren't dead, either. Some of you have been here for months already, right?

[ it's a rhetorical question. he's heard months, over a year. he still pauses before continuing, if only because he's making a slight switch in gears. ] Where I come from, the people in charge have a system. They created it to make people frightened and to keep them from having hope. They could probably just kill everyone if they wanted to, but they still need us — they need us to work, keep their Capitol running.

I think the ship's the same. I don't think it wants to kill us. I think it needs us for something, and that the events I've heard about — the stations it brings you to, the trials it engineers, they're trying to push us to do something. But this is where the comparisons to the Capitol stop. If all it wanted was inaction, it would've killed everyone on the bridge, but it didn't. I think it wants something else, and it needs us to do it.

[ another pause, and this time he offers a slight smile when he continues. maybe a bit out of place, but it becomes clear enough that he's taking amusement at his own expense. ] But I'm new here, so I couldn't tell you what. Normally I'd say it wants us to fight, but I've been told that doesn't accomplish much. I guess that's why I'm asking you — if there's anything that seemed like a hint, or a command, or a reward.

Everyone's caught up on solving the mysteries behind these things. I know this is probably just because I'm bad at riddles, but I'm more interested in the results. How they make us behave and what we're being taught to expect. I have no idea if we want to listen, but I think it'd be a good idea to try to figure out what it's asking us to do.
 
 
[ lydia is sitting on her bed fiddling with what looks like a leash that isn't attached to the dog it's normally attached to. it almost looks like she's not paying attention to the feed being on before she looks up and smiles a tight sort of smile. ]

Assuming that more than just one or two people made it back from that really ill-advised trip to the bridge, I don't feel bad asking you all this question instead of crying about people dying. [ the smile becomes a little tighter then, like she already had cried before the jump. after a shake of her head it's gone like it was never there in the first place. ] Say you have powers at home and on this ship and they were working perfectly fine when you were at home and when you found your way on this ship.

[ she pauses, like she has to figure out how to word the rest of what she's saying before she continues. ]

Has anyone had their powers go from working perfectly fine on this ship to not working perfectly fine? Maybe even working in ways that are not even remotely how they're supposed to work in the slightest. I mean, it's a little weird and I'm looking for some perspective. Or a base to compare something to. [ she hastily adds: ] I'm not asking because of me. Mine— I'm just not asking because of me.
 
 
Report to Tyke at the doors to the bridge and give her any aid she requires.
 
 
21 January 2014 @ 05:03 pm
[ like so many of robb's network addresses, he appears with grey wind at his side. he's in the gardens, sweat sticking his curls to his skin as grey wind huffs beside him, for once not pacing impatiently as robb speaks. ]

It seems the ship has seen fit to save the strange temperatures for those who slumbered through them last month. I suppose there are few left who remember the ship growing cold once? Perhaps it feels the heat suits us better.

[ robb's tone suggests that is most certainly doesn't suit him, but is that really a surprise? starks have ever been more suited to the cold. ]

If you would all permit me, I would ask to speak with any who slumbered, this month or prior, for last month was not the first that has seen people remaining trapped within their pods. I dreamed, and I would know if they were shared, or if any recognize that which I saw. Time has passed, and yet I've still not made sense of all that happened within those dreams.

[ grey wind makes a soft noise, almost a whine. robb doesn't reach a hand to soothe him, as if it's important neither of them seem unsettled. ]

Lastly, I would speak with Erik Lensherr, who I hear has returned once more, and Cesare Borgia, if he will indulge me with an audience. And my family, those of my House and those who carry my banner, I've news to share with you.

[ robb takes a breath, and grey wind gets to his feet, shakes out his coat, and paces off camera. robb chuckles, and cuts the feed on a murmur too quiet to be heard. ]
 
 
14 January 2014 @ 07:22 pm
[ hey, tq, it's dean. he's looking... well, a little more restless than normal, and mostly because now that it's been some time after the jump, he's finally accepted that yet another friend has left the ride. he rubs the knuckles of one hand anxiously before looking at the communicator. ]

Any of you ever had a friend or two in this ship who you know ain't around back home anymore? Sucks when they go back, doesn't it. Especially when home isn't just a box six feet underground, but... [ but purgatory, where you personally put them.

it hurts. it sucks. ]


But something a lot more dangerous. Guess we should learn by now to hold on to 'em as hard as we can while we still have 'em, instead of...this. [ as sincere as he is, he can't quite help the strained smirk, like it really is all some big joke. ]

But since I can't do that, I'll ask for the second best thing; anyone feel like doin' a little sparring? And I mean the off the record kind, no punches pulled stuff. You know, fun. [ it's something he's good at, something he could just lose himself in for a little while, so it's worth a shot. ]

Those easily bruised and ready for tears-- or too busy whining about the temperature need not apply. And if you ain't sure, we can even throw a bet of some kind on the winner-- whatever works. Even you freaky supernatural critters are welcome.
 
 
12 January 2014 @ 08:46 pm
[Death is rather old fashioned so he's still not very good with this technology even though he's been on the ship for a few months now. The video shakiness for a moment probably doesn't help to soften the fact that you are now staring into the face of a skeleton in a black robe. The voice seeming to just appear in your head rather then entering your ears via the normal route probably doesn't make things better either.

Sorry, he can't help it.  He also sounds a little hesitant.]

THIS MAY SOUND LIKE A VERY ODD QUESTION ....ESPECIALLY FOR THIS LOCATION.

BUT ARE THERE ANY UNIVERSALLY ACCEPTED MARRIAGE TRADITIONS? BESIDES THE END RESULT I MEAN? 

 
 
08 January 2014 @ 11:50 am
[ spike turns to his ~companion~ as he regretfully pulls his shirt on. it’s a beautiful tropic day in the gardens and he was intending to enjoy it, but maybe he and pete should say their hello-again’s to the community at large. ]

You know what I could really go for right about now? Jammy dodgers. Been dreaming about them all month…

That's the first thing you're gonna say? [ peter glances over, undoing the leash on izzie's collar. ] - Actually, I'm not even a little surprised that it's food you want to tell the network about.

[ sigh. ] Nothing I dreamed about had anything to do with food. Could've used a few less nightmares, but now I just want to know what's up with my dog.

[ spike shoots peter a look before immediately stooping down to greet said dog, patting her head and pretending her dad didn’t just say a really rude thing!! ] Isabelle, darling, don’t listen to him, huh? [ though upon closer inspection… she looked a little more rotund than usual, maybe. grumpier, slower. he glanced back up. ]

What has your brother been feeding her? [ he asks sharply, hands over the lab’s ears so she couldn’t hear them talk about how fat she was. that was before he picked one ear up and spoke into it for dramatic effect. ] He gave you all the jammy dodgers, didn’t he?

[ izzie groaned, and spike stood up. it was a puzzle though, to be sure. ]

I'm not even sure Nathan knows what those are, Spike. Besides, he wouldn't share them even if he did. [ he shoots the camera a look, then stares a little longer before looking back at spike, leaving izzie to her unpleasant sounds for a moment. ]

You're sure that's all you dreamed about? Anything else? [ network, tell him he wasn't the only one please. ] Or are cookies really all you've got to say for yourself?

Are you sure that's appropriate for the network, Peter... [ yeah, he's just looking to get slapped at this point. ] Alright, alright. So I had nightmares too. Sometimes the biscuits sprang to life, with little angry-faces like and chased me around the ship.

[ he's definitely getting hit the second the feed goes off. ]


(( responses will come from both spike and peter petrelli unless otherwise specified. ))
 
 
08 January 2014 @ 09:26 pm
( nothing about what's happened since nuala made her choice makes a great deal of sense to her. she lives, inexplicably, but there is a wound in her where once her brother was; a hollowness she can't account for, in point of fact the very opposite of what she might have imagined her afterlife to consist of. dressed in strange clothes and adrift in a place even stranger than the BPRD's headquarters, handling truly peculiar technology--

--it is all very small, in the wake of that most important detail. it is, however, a sort of smallness that permits her anything else to think on while she gathers herself enough to, perhaps, investigate its cause. her first contribution to the comms network is therefore simultaneously accidental and very much with purpose: a period of audio recording where nothing much seems to be happening, video of Nuala's hands as she turns the device over several times, of her face as she examines it. audio, again-- an exasperated sigh, a little jostle, and then a startled vocalization followed by a bit of scrambling, and then, finally--

Nuala, having at some point prior to this transmission found her way to the room she's been allocated, looks composed of nothing but determination to be composed. )


Hello.

( ...and patience. she has that, too, in great stores. this is a device for communication. someone is going to communicate with her. eventually, this will begin to make sense again. )
 
 
07 January 2014 @ 08:54 am
[ katniss is new, or at least, this version of katniss is new, but she's heard people saying that soon the alarms will sound for the "jump". she remembers the last "jump", the one that dumped her here, and she doesn't really want to relive it. ]

Why do we have to get back into those pods?

[ katniss is wary about questioning the way things are here, when she's still not sure this isn't just some kind of arena. but she also doesn't really know how to do one-on-one transmissions, or private lock something, and she's a little slower at texting than she'd really like, so a question she might normally just ask haymitch is addressed to the network as a whole. ]

Some people are still in them from the last time. What happens if even less people wake up?

[ overall, she's against it. ]
 
 
02 January 2014 @ 01:08 pm
I am looking for a dog, or else a pup. Unwanted or unclaimed, though it should go without saying.

Some have expressed concern for their animals in this heat. Provide them with water and they ought not to grow dangerously hot. If they do, wet a cloth with lukewarm water and rub their skin.
 
 
19 December 2013 @ 06:47 pm
[On comes the video feed, to show one (1) Booker DeWitt. His collar is a little undone and his sleeves are rolled up higher than usual due to the heat, but that's not the reason why he's addressing everyone today. The issue of the temperature and people seeing "shadows" doesn't escape him, but he figures he'll be keeping an eye on network posts for any development in those departments.

Right now, he has something else on his mind, and as always he gets straight to the point.]


Got a question for the people on this ship with -- [what's the proper phrasing to use? Even though he's the one asking it still sounds awkward leaving his lips] --unusual abilities. Does this place seem to affect them in odd ways, such as some of them not even workin' at all?

[Oh, and those watching might also notice Booker's left hand and part of his forearm, which is smattered with patches of sprouting black feathers and nails that have grown into long black talons. Yeah.

Even as he speaks, he's shaking out the aforementioned limb with an annoyed grimace, and it begins to revert back to its everyday appearance of a normal human arm.]


Or is it just me?

[Damn vigors. More trouble than they're worth.]
 
 
14 December 2013 @ 06:13 pm
[Thranduil is sitting stiffly against a tree almost like it's his own throne. Most people who've seen him have seen him grumpy. He is not grumpy now. He is pissed.]

In all things I have tried to show patience. [His voice is dripping with ice.] I have lent my aid and resources to this ship, I have offered my hospitality and friendship and asked nothing in return, and what has happened? I have been robbed.

[His lip curls in a slight snarl.]

One of you took from me a precious necklace, a gift to me from a friend I am unlikely to see again. It is silver with pearls and diamonds and was wrapped in a cloth and hidden from sight. If you return it to me, I will be merciful and no charges will be pressed. If you do not, I have many eyes aboard this ship. It will be found.

[The feed cuts off.]
 
 
14 December 2013 @ 09:17 am
Good day. My name is Miles Edgeworth; I am with the Security team. As ever, I would like to request that any new arrivals with expertise in law enforcement, the military, or combat contact me to discuss potential employment.

[He would also like to request that all you dicks stop talking about The Worst Holiday Ever, thanks. And he would like to distract you from it with this:]

I should like, also, to discuss our backgrounds. I have done this in the past, I will grant, and as such I beg a bit of patience from those who have previously seen such questions. Nevertheless, I believe that discovering the commonalities amongst us will assist in the uncovering of the reason why we were brought here; more, a general census will, I think, assist in preventing people from falling through the cracks, as it were.

[And it will GET YOU BASTARDS TO SHUT UP ABOUT CHRISTMAS FOR FIFTEEN GODDAMN SECONDS]

I have attached a text document. Kindly open this document, fill it out, and submit it to me. Note that number five is quite optional, but an answer would be appreciated and potentially quite helpful.

survey.doc )
 
 
14 December 2013 @ 03:10 am
[Shepard looks terse, just a little short tempered. She has bigger fish to fry right now, but taking the occasional potshot? Sure, there's time in the day for that.]

I know it feels a little warmer in here, [south of the equator natives holla!] but are we really thinking it's Christmas? As far as I knew, we're pretty scattered across the board when it comes to our personal timelines and it's not like anyone's counting how long we're in stasis during the jump.

I'm calling it now: it's really new Armistice Day. I know most of you don't know anything about the First Contact War, but I hope you'll take this opportunity to remember those who fought for you in whatever universe you come from.

[Talilock, encrypted like whoa]
Garrus, I have a job for you.
 
 
13 December 2013 @ 09:36 am
[Charlie looks tired. Her skin is a bit paler than usual and there are faint circles under her eyes. She's still smiling, though.]

So. I heard some rumors [she almost said 'a little elf told me' - be grateful she has at least some tact, you all, seriously though] that Christmas might be coming up. Anyone want to fill me in on if that's true or not? I'd check but the calender on my tablet didn't update to, uh, space time or dates.

[A slightly awkward pause as she realizes that's probably not the best way she could say that but, well, there it is. She shrugs then smiles again.]

Anywho. So. Christmas. On a spaceship. [No, Charlie. You will not reference Doctor Who. No. Instead have another awkward pause then her smile fades to a 'really, folks, really' kind of look.]

Is this something that's actually happening? For serious?

[Heavily filtered like whoa to all those in Communications]
[As soon as she has the filter set, Charlie refocuses on the screen and she smiles lightly.]

Hey there. For anyone who can see this that I haven't met, hi. I'm Charlie, you better be in Comms because if you aren't I'm going to find out and we're going to have a problem and, well, if you are in Comms... I need your help.

[A breath as she starts to explain.] See, I was tweaking the coding that lets us know if key words are mentioned in posts and, well, after way too many cups of coffee and definitely not enough sleep, I'm pretty sure it's done. Still needs some tweaking and I'm pretty sure nobody else wants it to start yelling at you in a faux human voice when you don't react fast enough so that'll have to be worked on, but yeah. I totes made this coding my bitch.

[A pause to draw another breath.]

Problem is, there are a lot of variations of 'I need help' and unless you all want me to give this coding some kind of sentient understanding [she leans a little closer to the screen] which you don't want me to do, bee tee dubs, because it won't end well [she clears her throat and gets back on topic] then we need to figure out a way to let the coding recognize all possible word choices.

[Her eyes widen as something occurs to her.] Oh! And any ideas on how to make it know the difference between things like 'I need help because the ship is about to explode' and 'I need help to bake this cake', that'd be super awesome too. Unless you all want to be bugged whenever someone is trying to make desserts, in which case I guess we can leave that last one in. Who doesn't like cake, right? Except Dean. Dean's all about the pie.

[Have that awkward pause again, and another clearing of her throat.] So, um, yeah. Help and stuff. [Cue a hopeful smile.] Please?
 
 
12 December 2013 @ 11:33 am
[look, it's a face. look, it's legolas's face. you don't see that on the network very often. he looks-- relatively calm, in spite of the drawn eyebrows and overall weariness. or as much as an elf is able to look weary. that might be a smudge of dirt on his chin.]

..It is always painful to lose a friend when the cycles turn. Or two, and one of them for a second time. [not to mention another one in a coma.

he sighs though, lifts his shoulders in what might be a shrug, and pulls on a smile. ned did say something about charm.. a few months ago.]


Seeing as my employer is asleep again, and I think it has been some time since the last one-- the oxygen gardens is currently-- ah, short staffed. [as.. always.] I think we may be able to manage it, but some assistance would be much appreciated, even if you do not decide to join the department itself.

There is some gardening done, but for those less inclined to the soils, there is also the monitoring of the hydroponics [did he say that right, can ned be proud of him for saying it right.] and the water cleaning system. And as always, we would advise that the owners of the the plants in the community garden and the creatures that reside here come by to care for them accordingly. It may be difficult for us in the department to have a hand in everything at the moment.

[shuffling. the camera jostles for a moment, and then a garden.txt file is attached. no, he was not not the one to name it.

he takes on a more serious tone now. the kind that's trying to be serious but also trying not to scare people away, otherwise known as a bit worried.]
I have heard also of a thing known as Christmastime that might be celebrated this cycle. If you require a tree or any other plant from the gardens, please ask for some assistance. If possible I would have them removed in a way that they may still be replanted afterward with little damage to them.

[not to poop on holiday spirits or anything. but if another tree is dragged up haphazardly, he has a bow and he is not afraid to use it.]

Please do not hesitate to ask if there are any questions in regards to this. I may be found here at all times, and there is often someone else from the department here as well.

((ooc: agriculture 101. no hoverdollies and spaceracing for non-dept members, sorry. open to action, set in the gardens of course!))
 
 
10 December 2013 @ 08:18 pm
[The video comes to life in a flourish of black feathers.

There's the caw of a raven, and when the device is adjusted better so that its audience can see the broadcaster, Loki can be seen standing with his arm extended. The aforementioned raven sits on his forearm, head cocked to the side and seeming to look into the feed with something akin to curiosity.

Another ruffle of feathers, and a second raven sits seated on Loki's left shoulder. The sight would be almost comical if not for the fact that there is something oddly imposing about the birds -- large in size, to be certain, but something about their demeanor exhibits a certain cleverness of thought that most ravens would not possess.

Loki smiles. Anyone who has met him before may notice that his hair is a bit longer, but other than that he appears the same. The backdrop is those of the oxygen gardens.]


I've returned to the ship, and yet I've not been gone that long at all, have I? Strange how time is twisted into something incomprehensible in an instance such as this -- but I hardly have a right to complain. Asgard was a reprieve, even in confinement. Svartalfheim was... [He trails off, choosing the right words.] Well. Lacking in a certain glory, but the dark elves were never ones for gilded appearances. I suppose it's a fitting enough battlefield for a glorious death.

I'd like to call it that, at least. Sacrificial. [A twist of his lips, irony escaping his mouth.] Mother would have been proud. Perhaps Odin, as well.

But I digress. [Both ravens then caw loudly, as if on cue.] It seems that despite everything, I've been granted a couple of friends from home. Meet Huginn and Muninn, the King's ravens. Huginn is the one with the annoyed look in his gaze, and Muninn is the one without it. Say hello, the both of you.

[And then (as if also on cue), both birds simply fly off to make their perch in a nearby tree. Loki only laughs, as if this was to be expected.]

Ah. Well. There is always room for improvement, as they say.

[private to mcu!Thor; not really encrypted at all because lol Asgardians encrypting things]

I take it you're still here. In which case I think we may have things we wish to discuss.
 
 
 
24 November 2013 @ 05:45 pm
[ scott doesn't have much to contribute on the theory side of things, but there is one minor mystery that's been bugging him since he got here. ]

Is the pot in the gardens up for grabs?

[ and no, not bothering with anon. it's already everywhere (or seems like it is, but that might have something to do with a heightened sense of smell), it's basically legal back home, and his mom isn't exactly around to be disappointed. he somehow doubts she'd hold it against him in space anyway. that said, manners: ]

Also I'm glad everyone's feeling better after last month. Or I guess just not bleeding from our faces, it's still kind of weird.

And also thanks in advance.