11 May 2015 @ 09:15 pm
We're losing people.

[It's not a good opener. Tyke's in the SEC office, the central screen standing as backdrop behind her, but her expression doesn't seem as sharp as it usually is for these announcements. The slight pinch in her brow isn't unusual, but there's a slightly cloudy quality to her eyes that doesn't dissipate as she continues talking.]

There's less people at the jumps. Our overall population's getting smaller. You'd think we'd be getting bigger over time, not this.

[Her frown deepens for a moment, and she takes a breath. Seems to pull herself up straighter, words coming stronger.]

My name's Tyke, and I'm head of security. Anyone that hasn't heard it before: security's here for your safety. Things here are gonna try to kill you or fuck with your head. We wanna make sure that doesn't happen.

One way you're gonna help on that is by sticking together. Move down to the first ten floors. Join a department. They maintain the basic functions of the ship around you, and they're all fucking understaffed. Don't let any of this shit make you think we've gotta turn on each other.

[Pain twists her expression sharply, suddenly, has her leaning forward slightly, a thin trickle of blood running down from her nose. She wipes it almost immediately, red smearing on her face and the back of her hand. She glares at it, irritation and frustration palatable, snarling in her voice.]

Is anyone else getting these fucking headaches?
 
 
26 March 2015 @ 08:02 pm
 
Anybody here ever go to college?

[That's a random question, yo. Marty is actually busy with his engineering gig right now, checking on the systems and making sure everything isn't five seconds away from going topsy-turvy on his ass — one of the great perks about being in this department, but hey, it's a small crew and shit's gotta be done. He's pretty hopeful to go work on his potato farm through, after leaving it hanging for so long.]

I don't know, man, I kinda' really miss it. College was the best years of my life, probably? If there was anything to leave a high note on, it was my last few years back in school; sure, before that I was a mostly-freak and stuff, and maybe the class clown in high school, but once you go to college, you sort of realize everyone is crazy. Or tolerates crazy. To a suspicious level. Maybe college does something to the brain. Melts it out of your ears. Or maybe the liquor is doing all the brain melting.

Anyway... nostalgic, I guess. All work and no talking makes Mr. Mikalski a dull bro. 

You guys the party type back then? Or were you the ones who actually studied in your rooms and ignored the wild rumpus beginning outside?

......

On second thought, I think there's a ton of high school kids here.

Sorry about spending your school life stuck on a big spooky ship, by the way. I'll give you snacks as apology.
 
 
12 March 2015 @ 11:23 pm
A query, for those who have been aboard a while...

How is it you find the will to continue, when you have lost, over and again, those dear to you on board? Losing the ones from your own world or time feels like a deep enough blow... but equal are those from other worlds, who you cannot hope to see again should you be spirited home.

To add insult to injury, when sometimes these dear souls appear again, they are quite anew. They recall nothing of your friendship, or their time here, and are as strangers.

It's a melancholy truth, is it not? We can stomach death, for death promises the bliss of a great beyond where all are one, or otherwise, nothing at all and we shalln't be bothered by what we cannot know.

But this? This waking between death and life, where people reincarnate as themselves, but not the same...

How do you keep from letting it smother your joy? The idea that your loved ones can be taken from you in a moment, and almost worse: may return to you changed, and distant. And can we even hope they should return, to such a place as this?

[Added, as a quiet aside:]

...Poor Feuilly, patient man that he is, who puts up with me asking such things constantly.

But I should truly like to know how others cope.
 
 
08 March 2015 @ 08:33 pm
[ one day octavia will have something useful to say on the network.

today, unfortunately, is not that day, and the morning after the jump the tranquility is blessed with this little piece of poetry.
]

ATTENTION! SEEKING:
HOTTIES FOR A LITTLE FUN WITH A CUTE (sometimes) BUBBLY BLONDE

MUST:
- not be a dick (non negotiable)
- be attractive (subjective so you know feel free to put your hand up even if you don't think you're a babe)
- have a sensitive side (our blonde here is a little on the shy side when it comes to the lip to lip action)
- not be as dull as watching paint dry (please for the love of all that is good know how to hold a conversation)
- don't be super old. that would be weird.

applications can be made here for review by me (octavia) before being passed onto the blonde. just so you know, she doesn't wind up with anyone weird or creepy.

good work guys, back to your regularly scheduled work or whatever.


[ and, as an afterthought: ]

also, bellamy blake is gone, whatever that means. home, hopefully. just in case he managed to actually make any friends here despite the handicap of being a huge dork. thought you should know.

[ now she's done. ]
 
 
[It's been a while since L has addressed the network in any capacity: he's been occupied with one thing and another. Today he sounds unusually weary, but people who see him on a daily basis know that this has been a frequent state for him for the past two months: there have been highs and lows, and they've been extreme on both ends.]

This is Ryuuzaki, speaking on behalf of Communications. I'll be discussing several things today.

We'd like to remind you that your private communications should never be considered completely private. For the past few months, we've all been using a different style of encryption than the one that was previously available. Communications now believes that we have a good understanding of how the new style works. If we can figure it out, someone else certainly can, if they're determined enough.

[It rankles him to have to admit this, but the people who are worth hiding the information from probably don't need to be told to be careful about secrecy to begin with, and letting everyone else know is a matter of good PR. Aside from that, if he doesn't, it's very likely that someone else will.]

Following on that, we still haven't been able to create any encryptions of our own that the rebooted network will accept. If you find that you're able to do that yourself, it's possible that we could use you in the department.

On another note, I've heard some concern that van Rijn's people are eavesdropping on our network. While I can't guarantee that they won't hit the archive if they're ever to gain control of the ship, the method of their contact two months ago didn't utilize this network at all. It was a direct external signal to the communicators themselves. It's extremely unlikely that they're following our current internal discussions -- I think if they were, we'd have heard from them more and in a different way.

[He pauses, and when he speaks again, his tone has shifted in a way that indicates a change in topic.]

I don't think any of us can deny that there have been several important developments in the last few months.

There's always some value in sitting back and trying to determine what we know -- and those of you who are new here should certainly direct your attention to the documents which Support posts in the first few days after a jump. It's vital that you're up to speed. I've attached some useful information to this message.

However, I'd like to propose a different question:

What don't we know?

What are we still trying to determine? In which areas are we lacking information? I'm looking for specific questions, not broad subjects -- try to break them down. Likewise, if you think you can answer one of these questions -- definitively, no wild guesses -- please do so, so we can remove it from the list. If you have information you'd like to share, leads, that might also be helpful. It's always a good idea to use the network to document anything you learn.

These questions could determine new avenues of investigation, or if we receive further outside contact, we may be able to pursue some of those subjects in that way. Even if that turns out not to be the case, it may help us coordinate our efforts.

I'm afraid I'll have to apologize in advance to a few of you -- Ward, Resnik, Charlotte, our smiling friend -- it's possible that we may be discussing you as if you aren't here. [His tone turns slightly wry.] Try not to take it personally.

[He has never in his life cared, not even in the least, about that sort of thing: he'll call someone a murderer when they're in the same room if the evidence fits the accusation. He'll even relish it. But he understands that any of those three could chime in on this conversation, and that the situation is different, because he's calling not for their arrest, but for a discussion that may touch on details that they'd rather were private.]

[OOC note: About the network and hacking! Regardless of what L is looking for, user-created encryptions no longer work on the network as of 1 November 2014 -- and they may never work again. It's a change in game mechanics! A single, extremely robust level of security is available to everyone, simply by marking messages as private before sending them.

It will take even a top-level, technopath-type hacker at least three months of full-time effort to figure out how to hack a message marked as private under the new system, and they will flag SEC several times in the process. Working as a group (dealing with other duties and fluctuations in character availability), it has taken Comms about four months. The amount of time it will take someone to decrypt a single message after they've spent several months working on figuring out how the encryption itself works will depend on the hacking character's level of skill and the length of the message in question, but it will be very slow work even for the best of the best.

L's search for encryptions that aren't built into the system is probably in vain, but characters who are interested in trying may still be interested in joining Comms. They can also make the attempt on their own time, of course!]
 
 
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. 

[SHOTS FIRED]

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:]


[HOLLA TRANQUILITY, HERE'S TO ANOTHER MONTH WHERE HOPEFULLY NOTHING ELSE WILL GO WRONG FOR FIVE MINUTES.]
 
 
08 February 2015 @ 01:45 am
[ jax’s hair is still wet and dripping, but he’s made it down to gunnery, has his comm in his lap, hoodie over the back of his seat. he’s lighting up a cigarette, lets it dangling from his lip as he stows his lighter away. ]

Looks like another batch of new arrivals, right? Everyone make it okay?

[ as flippant as it sounds, it’s a genuine question. jax pauses a minute, then drags a hand back through his wet hair as he continues speaking. ]

I’m betting someone’s gonna post up the How-To guide any minute now, but for now you’ll have to make do with the informal shit.

[ and you can’t really get any more informal than jax, who tips his head back to blow a smoke ring, buy himself some time before he starts speaking. ]

I’m Jax Teller, I’m the CGO and if you got interest in lending a hand down in Gunnery, come down and see me. You got interest in any of the other shit, Sciences or Engineering or Flight or running Security for this barge, speak up, someone’ll point you in the right direction. We’re all about lending a hand these days. [ jax grins around his cigarette, lifts a hand to lift it away as he exhales a stream of smoke. ] Other than that, you’re in space, yeah. Don’t do anything stupid, read the Survival Guide, and you’ll be fine.

[ for a given definition of fine, anyway. which jax is clearly aware of, flashing a grim smile at the camera, flicking ash from the tip of his cigarette as he tacks on-- ]

And if you want smokes, talk to Ned.

[ at which point jax snickers to himself, then hangs up. teller out. ]
 
 
03 February 2015 @ 08:22 am
I know there's been a lot of weird shit going down lately, but all my brain keeps coming up with is how I'd kill for a cigarette.

Okay, "kill" might be an exaggeration. Kinda feel like I'm dying though. I don't know if I've gotten a reputation as a guy who'll take off his shirt and fight for shit or not, but that's something I'd do for a cigarette. Just light it up and put it between my lips if i get ko'd.

Basically, the point of this is if anyone finds a carton in their locker and wants to work out a deal or play for them or something, come see me. I used to be able to make a pack do me a month if I really stretched it. Now I bet I could make one last me the rest of my time on this thing. Everyone's got something like that, right?

Also, ramen. Shrimp or chicken. If you're gonna dream, dream big.


[Hey, for him, smokes and instant noodles are dreaming big.]
 
 
21 January 2015 @ 05:18 am
This is Raven Reyes, CEO.

It's been mentioned a few times now that being tracked and boarded involuntarily isn't a possibility, but an inevitability. I'm not here to weigh in one way or the other. I'm here to make sure you're ready, just in case.

You were told to familiarize yourself with the operation of Tranquility-issue space suits and armaments. I can teach you that.

On top of that, I also want to get a hell of a lot more people familiar with how to launch and operate the shuttles, and how to tell which ones are even safe for launch in the first place. I don't know what kind of enemy we'll be facing here. What I do know is, we're stuck in a big metal ship that wants us dead, and that same ship is being tracked by agents who probably also want us dead. It's good to have some kind of escape route, even if that escape just puts you a little farther from the immediate target. After all, deep space doesn't give a shit if you're dead or alive, and in the event of an on-board battle of some kind I'd call that an improvement.

So if you want to learn any of this, say something. It could save your life.

And you're probably sick to hell of hearing this by now, but if you're unemployed and wouldn't rather hang yourself than get a little dirty, Engineering wants you. Especially right now, when everybody's stretched so thin.

Last thing: If you're good with suits, armaments, or shuttles, speak up too. It'd sure be handy if I weren't the only one dishing out the safety-first lectures.
 
 
15 January 2015 @ 02:19 pm
so is there a way of checking who's arrived on this thing besides the old fashioned hunt them down method? like a log of arrivals/departures or a sign in sheet or something?

asking for a friend.
 
 
16 March 2014 @ 07:13 pm
what happens to the stuff that goes in the toilets
yknow
poo n the pee
and whatever else you flush down those things anyway
like do they get released into outer space to drift forever
so aliens can find it and go what the fuck
or is it like reused in the gardens
what if thats our sole purpose on this ship
to keep the plants growing with our matter and shit
no pun intended
what if the plants are actually alien overlords
oh my god
 
 
08 March 2014 @ 10:38 pm
 
So!! Okay, hey everybody. How's it hanging? It's Marty here, and I've got some pretty bitchin' news. 

[He's hanging out in a kitchen (where else), and he's got what appears to be something under a sheet, protected under the thin fabric. Judging by the smug look on his face and the twinkle in his eye, he's pretty damn proud of whatever he's concocted. People who have been watching him in the gardens may not be all that surprised by this.]

So, engineering - really screwed some of us up, right? People who went in there got pretty sick, and I'm noticing it's a trend after the jump, too. Meanwhile, here I am, making potato chips. So I think 'Marty, why not make this the best of both worlds?' With that in mind, I present to you my lovechild:



[WA-BAM. He removes the blanket to show a table full of bowls, with sexy potato chips filling every bowl. This is a labor of love, people. Months and months of turning into a stoner farmer, all for this moment. Hell yeah. But wait! There's more!]

I present to you:

Marty's Medical Marijuana Chips!!

Feeling super nauseous right now? Well, these chips here have the goods baked right in; a few of these bad boys and you'll be riding a nice high for a few hours while your sickness clears up. Plus, they taste fucking delicious, and that's the second most important thing when it comes to a little jump vertigo. Granny T ain't got shit on me.

[....]

They're not all gonna be marijuana chips. Just. Jump ones. 

Promise.

[Nobody tell Edgeworth.]

 
 
04 March 2014 @ 03:39 am
Good morning, Tranquility.

[ Erik is seated at his desk, eyes fixed flat upon the camera. ]

I’m conducting a poll.

[ The suit he’s wearing is dove grey and freshly pressed. The dress shirt beneath it is discolored about the collar, faded brown blotched behind the (flagrant) purple of his tie. He could stand to shave. He could stand to sleep for more than a few hours before addressing the entire network. ]

On a scale from one to ten, with one being the perpetuation of a meaningless existence at the mandate of an invisible hand for some unknown and likely terrible purpose, and ten being, [ he pauses to take a breath and to check down after his notes, ] ten being no harm done with a side of unlikely survival courtesy of a confusing -- but benevolent -- presence, [ he reads directly: ]

How would you rate the outcome of last month’s attempted mutiny?

[ A show of his teeth when he looks up can’t quite pass for a smile, fleeting and thin as it is. ]

Just curious.
 
 
Communications is reading multiple responses inside Engineering ATT. Must be assumed that Smiley's intimation that he has "cleared the way" is indeed accurate. More information requested from eyes on source.

Crew member Charlotte is crucial source of further information. "Mistake" we've been waiting for. Given fates of previous resources, WITSEC imperative.

Comms standing by. Petrelli out.
 
 

[Static. Lots and lots of static. Not that it much matters, because at the start, Marty's just rambling about random shit. Stupid little stories from home; there are probably other voices from the brig muffled here and there in the background as he makes his way from the small crowd of mutineers to record what is probably going to be a swan song affair. He's never been very good about any of this. Or particularly graceful. Accepting death is easier for him than it maybe should be, but he's not exactly wanting to die. Again. So. There's that.]


░░░▒▒▓▓▒▒░░ --ad idea. Anyway, ░░░▒▒▓▓▒▒░░. Maybe I should just do some ░░░▒.

░░░▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░

Story time? I guess. [A little laugh; maybe a crazy one? He's not sure. He's exhausted. And maybe a little high.] There was once a jester, was friends with a noble ragtag team ░░░░░ -- there was a knight and his fair medic. Super attractive couple, I'll admit I'm jealous there. There was a scholar, and then there was a foxy fair maiden. They all decided to leave their domain for a little ░░░▒▒▒░░, but they didn't realize that someone had followed them. Someone from a cult, people who... Well, they liked to sacrifice people to make the Gods happy. Because gods are always sadistic fucks in a lot of stories, right?? This one can go eat a ▓▓▓▓▓▓. Anyway... The jester noticed something was amiss when they arrived to their eden of rest. But unfortunately, the cult's undead minions -- killed the kindly medic, left the group ▓ in shock. Wasn't much later that the jester got his dumb ass impaled on a garden shovel. Who does that, right?

▓▓▓▓▓▓

Then... I mean, the jester didn't catalog a lot ▓▓it, but despite their best efforts, the remaining team couldn't leave. The cult had used ancient power to lock them all in a forcefield. ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ the knight was killed when he'd tried to find a way around it, and the scholar -- they got him, too. Eventually... it was just the fair minx of a maiden. Alone, with these -- these undead freaks. She fought so fucking hard, let me tell you. This maiden? She was secretly a warrior. She fucking survived.

[He smiles from behind the camera.]

Suddenly -- the jester! Holy crap, he's alive! You wouldn't even have guessed right? Scrawny little weirdo made it after all. ▒▒▒y bust through the zombies, find the cult's ancient lair, and descent with no where else to go. ▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░ Monsters. The cult had monsters of all kinds, all lore, hidden in the depths in cages. They would use these monsters to kill unsuspecting sacrifices, year after year, and so... so the fair maiden had an idea. Attacked from all fuckin' sides, the maiden warrior released all the monsters from their cages, and the cult didn't stand a chance against their own ▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░▒▒▒▒░░. 

They made it to the ritual room -- and met the asshole leader of ancients. She told them that....

[There's a long pause. A thoughtful, sad one, really.]

She didn't tell them anything. Because the fair maiden put an ax through her head, and they -- the two got out. Together.

[He snorts a little.]

They probably figured they'd go on another trip to space, I bet, but that'd be kind of outlandish, huh?

H▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░▒▒▒▓▓▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░... ░░░░░░

[The rest sort of fades into static off and on again.]
 
 
02 February 2014 @ 09:56 pm
09:07
Bridge is ours. No resistance encountered.

09:12
Doors locked. Not opening from the inside. Attempting manual release. Request assistance.
 
 
01 February 2014 @ 08:37 pm
[ When the feed comes on, everything is in its place. The Comms device is set squarely on to a view of a desk, a large American flag hangs on its pole in the space behind Nathan, decked out in his best suit. A painting hangs on the wall behind him. This may be the last time he addresses the ship, in which case he’s going to do it right. ]

Good afternoon, Tranquility.

For those of you that don’t know me, my name is Nathan Petrelli. I arrived here on the sixth jump, and I’ve been working in Communications ever since. I was here when we all still reported to Resnik to keep the ship running, and I was here when Ward executed the prisoners we took from the Scylla. I’ve been here through most of the worst things that the Tranquility has thrown at us, and never once - not once, in almost two years - have I thought to stop cooperating with the whims of this damn ship.

That ends today.

At 0900 tomorrow morning I intend to take the Tranquility’s bridge. I make this post here, now, because this isn’t just about me, this concerns all of us. So, perhaps against my better judgement, it seems only right that those of the rest of you that are as restless as I am should have the opportunity to join me in this endeavor.

Some of you will call me crazy. You’ll think that makes you sane. You’ll call this mutinous. But let me ask you--how willing are you to carry on the way we have been so far? The distortions we see in the mirrors; the people that are watching; no longer just out of sight; our secrets, no longer secret; the weight of paranoia that is weighing all of us down, month after month. How long do you want this to go on without making a stand, without feeling like you’ve actually done something about it?

I don’t know that this is going to be safe. I don’t know if any of us are going to come back, and maybe some of the less morally indulgent types around here are gonna see it as good reason to lock us all away. I’d like to remind those people that in the absence of an actual captain, this isn’t really a mutiny. We can argue about it lawyer style if you like. Might as well, it might be the last argument we ever have. But please don’t feel as though you’ll alter my resolve.

We have to change what we’re doing. We have to make a stand. And you can shut your mouth right now, Neal Caffrey. I haven’t forgotten what you said; this is about weighing the risk.

[ At last Nathan takes a deliberate pause, steepled his hands in front of him. ]

If you’re going to volunteer, then please consider the risks. You may die. You may go mad. The rest of this crazy crew might decide to throw you into space. This isn’t a decision that you should be making quickly, but I’m sorry, this is all the time we’ve got. If you have even the slightest of doubts, you should stay behind.

Some of you--I know you’re gonna volunteer, and I reserve the right to veto your offers. You know who you are, and you have responsibilities. I’m not tearing apart the infrastructure of this ship if I can help it. Others...well, I need you where you are. Plan B.

Hopefully the next time I speak to you, it’ll be from Tranquility’s bridge. Be safe, and good luck to all of us. Petrelli out.


[ OOC: This is the corresponding network post to the volunteer sign up here on the OOC comm. If you don’t know what’s going on yet, then take a read through. ]
 
 
23 January 2014 @ 11:18 am
[Guess who totally refuses to take off his long-sleeve shirt? This nerd. He can't handle people looking at his scrawny bod, okay. His self-confidence is at an all-time low in terms of physical prowess. Leave him alone. More importantly, he's covered in dirt from the gardens and is a sweaty mess -- a mix of weed smell and Ferngully, or something, with a doofy bandana tied around his forehead like he's an 80's break dancer or something. He sighs out a big dumb breath.

Also
this is playing in the background from his mostly-fixed CD player. No regrets.]

Gardening's fuckin haaard, guys. Maybe it's just the heat talking, but damn.

But -- I think I got it. I think I'm getting this shit down pat. Soon, I'll be done with phase 1, and then I'll finally be able to harness the power of the ye' olde Space Potato. Marty's Potato Chips'll be a bigger hit than -- okay, no, sorry. I know I overdo the marijuana jokes. Whatever. Point is, I think gardening and making stupid junk food might be my life's calling. Anybody have any ideas for other foods from home we're all desperately missing? What kinds of food supplies do we have around here, anyway? We got blueberries; I made some bitchin' sorbet, which is plenty close to ice cream. 

We're learning. Adapting. Getting faster, better, stronger. Sure, this place sucks on many occasions, but at least we can sit around in trepidation with munchie foods. 

...

Who's gonna be my guinea pig for potato chip flavors? 

Also, Topher [that guy below him in the network posts who has his face and vice versa; hi topher] just reminded me, weird shit's been going on here this jump, too. Anybody else been getting creeper vibes from things in the halls? I mean, maybe I'm missing out because I hide under my blankets and shake my head until things aren't creepy, but I think the ship's fucking around again. 

...

Beyond the usual heatstroke or frostbite issue.

...

Also sorry about Topher's intensity, newbies. He's the mad scientist one between the two of us.

 
 
22 January 2014 @ 03:34 pm
[Abbie is adjusting her device so that the feed shows up clearly and so she isn't being filmed in a stilted manner. That would be annoying!]

Alright. Seems a little late to be using this, but better now than never.

[She brushes some of her hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath before continuing.]

Hi. [She gives a small shrug and a wave.] I'm Lieutenant Abigail Mills and I'm from Sleepy Hollow, New York. Call me Abbie if you want. Right now though, I'm currently with the SEC that's been established aboard here. I may not have any crazy powers or special abilities, being human and all, but I'd like to think I'm more than dependable when it comes to security matters.

Formal introductions aside, I gotta ask about the things people are seeing in the mirrors and about the people who were dreaming in their pods. I'm hearing things about beasts and warped edges and frankly, I'm more than a little concerned.

[There's a pause before she hesitantly adds:]

I've been there before, believe me. And that was before I woke up and found myself in space. There has to be a purpose and meaning behind them.
 
 
18 December 2013 @ 11:30 pm
 
[Marty is busying himself by making a fan out of shitty old cardboard bits, completely exasperated. This whole its-getting-hotter-with-no-signs-of-stopping thing is sort of Not Good, but he's trying to make the best of it. Despite the growing temperature aboard the Tranquility, he's still fully dressed. He's also somehow in a ridiculously good mood despite the humid air, which is probably partly because Dana is here and alive and he's so fucking glad.] 

Now I know how my brownies felt like. Minus the feeling of being digested, but we can't all do that many new things at once.

[What, come on, haven't you ever considered your baked goods and their emotional statuses?]

And, like, dudes like me? No way we can strut around in trunks like most of you — which, by the way? The sexy people versus normal people ratio here is pretty fucking high, like, 100 to 1. And I'm the 1. I swear to christ, sometimes I wonder if half of you came from a planet where everyone is ridiculously charmingly good-looking. 

It's not like I've got hairy nipples or an outtie -- y'know, a grotesque one, not one the cute ones, but I'm waaaay too skinny and pale for a swimsuit competition. People could probably just mistake me for printer paper up until they can't fit me in the tray.

I know, I know. "But Marty! Your personality outshines your sex appeal!" You're too kind.

[grin grin grin

we might all burn alive ok

but it's all good, fuck it]

If anyone turns into a microwave burrito, we should probably all just play Tetris in the freezers. Who's with me? We can experiment with ice cube trays, see what kind of abnormal ingredients make the best or worst ice-pops. Pickle juice is surprisingly delicious after your second or sixth joint.