09 April 2014 @ 05:00 pm
Alaric Saltzman and Jenna Sommers went home. I know a lot of you were friends of theirs, and they were here for a long time. I'm sorry for your loss.

[ it's short, but elena doesn't really know what else to say. just that hurt to type, and she can't... she just can't. knowing what they're going back to, that jenna is dead and ric is going to go crazy and then die too... she doesn't want that for them, doesn't want to think about it.

for all the tranquility's faults -- and faults is putting it lightly -- she at least had jenna and ric. her family was mostly put back together, and it was safe so long as they didn't try to do anything stupid. now they're gone, and damon doesn't remember anything, and honestly, she just wants to go home. there's nothing here anymore that makes staying worth it.
]
 
 
13 March 2014 @ 02:17 pm
Since everyone's all about hiring on help these days-- I've got a few things that need doing if there are any bored volunteers. Also a few things on a shopping list if there's anyone that recently arrived with a decent stash

Shopping list is easy: tea, more tea, spices, decent bacon, cigarettes, movies that aren't space knock offs. Watched almost all of those sixteen thousand times each. Though I recommend space Titanic, which is weirdly better than the Leoardo DiCaprio version.

Things that need doing: someone to move something seriously heavy, someone else to make a delivery and pickup.


You'll be paid in space beer or space risotto. Space beer and space risotto is also what we have to trade with for the stuff on the shopping list. And all of it's semi important, especially the tasks. Only slightly less important than the tasks is the cigarettes.
[A pause.] And maybe the tea.

Thanks.



[ooc ps - there is totally not a sneaky vampire plot embedded in here, don't worry!!! but if you volunteer for the delivery & pickup it will entail a rifle drop off and maybe some (lots of) lying. be warned.]
 
 
11 March 2014 @ 05:35 pm
[She'd kind of hoped the rifle would show back up in her locker after the jump, but that's apparently more optimism than the good ol' TQ merits. So:]

someone took something from me when i was in engineering
u know who u r
give me my shit back
 
 
10 March 2014 @ 12:04 pm
Does there exist documentation or any record concerning the use or effects of magic on the ship? I am interested in notation on repeated instances of magic during menial or daily activities as well as during times of flux as has recently passed, irrelevant to 'type' or origin of said magic.

I have perused the informational guide as well as backread through the network but this technology is not in use where I am from; I am unsure if I have missed anything due to unfamiliarity with the interface.
 
 
08 March 2014 @ 05:07 pm
Another Jump has come and gone.

[ hey, Tranquility. Lucrezia Borgia's hair falls freely down her back today and her cheeks are rosy and her lips are smiling. though if you know Lucrezia Borgia, and many do by now, you would perhaps recognize something in her smile, a twinkle in her eye which is impish. ]

I have counted more than twelve jumps, near fifteen and my days on this ship had been many yet today I come to you with a plea, Tranquility.

[ notice the faux!serious expression on her face. ]

There is a man upon this ship who had promised me a most wonderful promise many months ago and failed to see it through. I do not know if it is a regular affair in this person's world to break a promise made to a lady but I have come before you seeking justice from him so he would see it done. Duel him, pester him, chase him down at my name, if you wish it. Only bring him before me or tell him to present himself to me and be given punishment for said offense.

His name is Sirius Black. He is taller than me with dark hair and mischievous eyes and a talent in magic and he had given me his word that he will hold a Christmas upon this vessel. I do not know the months but surely not celebrating it at all is worse than trying to. My Holy Father would say the attempt is as important as the result. I trusted Sirius Black with such and here I am, months afterwards and nearly married -

[ allow her to look very pleased for a moment ]

And not a Christmas in sight. That said, I call upon my friends to deliver him to me so we may settle this matter once and for all.
 
 
06 February 2014 @ 08:32 pm
[ The whole post is broken up by static, Rebecca's voice quiet, like she's speaking more to herself than to the network. They're not words anyone is going to want to hear, and she doesn't know most of the people on the ship; they're not words necessarily meant for them. But somehow, she feels like she has to share. ]

It's easy, killing. [ At least, in comparison to the other thing on her mind. ] People do it all the time. Maybe not most of the people here, maybe not on purpose -- but people do it. They kill to protect themselves, to eat, for a cause. They even do it on accident. How many times a day do you think you kill insects, back home -- without even trying? It's a lot, I bet.

Dying... that's hard. People are scared of it. People don't want to die; there's more they could do, things that they never got around to. Plenty of people die before their time, on accident or because something or someone killed them.

Dying for someone is the hardest, I think. It's easy to be selfish. It's easy to let someone else do it, to not act. It would have been so much easier for all of us not to walk into the bridge, to try and find things out. And yeah, we could have done a better job. But we didn't do it for no reason.

I'm not saying that, if we die, we died for all of you. I'm not saying that I want to die, for all of you or for one of you. But... if you think about it, later -- if we do die -- then maybe that's how you'll think of it.

[ A pause, then a slight laugh, broken up by static. ]

Or, you know, you call us stupid. Guess we deserve that, too.
 
 
23 January 2014 @ 08:28 pm
[ It's all just black. For a few seconds.

And then there's suddenly an all encompassing flash of yellow light, filtered through fabric, followed by some muffled grumbling.

YUP. Somebody's done a butt dial. More like a pocket dial, but whatever. And it all goes back to black for a couple more seconds before it happens all over again, a distinctive crackling added to the soundtrack along with a 'shit!', the light turning an ambient orange as it flickers angrily.

.. Hey. You. Stop guessing that someone is a pyro. Because he isn't.

After another second, Peter goes for his comm with the intention of- oh. Double shit. That would be some awkward staring right there
]

Sorry. [ awkward… ] Wasn't trying to give anyone a show. Or anything at all, I'll just- [ but he hesitates before cutting the feed, brows furrowing by way of sudden light-bulb inducing ideas. ]

Is anyone maybe interested in doing a little trial and error experimentation? I promise that you won't die in the process or anything and the worst that'll go wrong is you'll need an... injection at the end of the day. Sounds worse than it is. It'll even end up making you feel better than when you even agreed to help. [ Because someone’ll totally agree to help after that little intro. He clears his throat, starting somewhere else. ]

But if you know anything about physics or... or radiation. On how to just control atoms? The atoms that make up anything in particular. [ God he's going so far out on a rope right now it's not even funny. In fact, it's making him cringe. ] Especially someone with an ability where you can control an element... more than just use it, but manipulate all the parts that make it up. On it's actual atomic level- I could use the help. The science behind it's a little above me, but if you've got your ability fine tuned all the way down to a molecular level.

I could use your help?
 
 
21 January 2014 @ 08:39 pm
[Behold, all and sundry shipmates, a young woman, most likely unfamiliar to you all. She has dark hair, she's wearing expensive-looking sunglasses, she has a cigarette between her manicured fingers, and she's not smiling. As a matter of fact, she looks more bored than anything, which wouldn't be inaccurate. It's Penelope, and she's annoyed. Get accustomed to this.]

Okay, so. Quick question.

Are you seriously telling me that this spaceship is not only haunted as fuck, because it is obviously haunted as fuck, you guys, what the fuck is up with that, but nobody has tried to set up any wards or barriers or anti-evil magic protection of any kind? I mean come on, this should be like kindergarten baby shit. Surely somebody's tried something, but since there's no like, history books of this hideous floating evil space basement we all appear to be trapped in, I have to ask.

Nobody's tried magic? Seriously?

[There's a brief pause as she attends to her cigarette, and then it goes back to balancing between the fingers of her hand. She tends to gesture with it, vaguely, as she speaks, presumably for emphasis since her voice is a practiced monotone of affected disinterest. It's all extraordinarily irritating, and it's very much intended to be so.]

Apropos of nothing, since there's so many honest-to-god wolves on board, are there any werewolves around? I need a donation.

That's all. Back to your regularly scheduled cowering-in-fear-awaiting-all-our-inevitable-hideous-deaths, or whatever it is you do for fun around here.

[...That bit about the werewolves goes totally unexplained, because Penelope promptly ends the feed.]
 
 
18 January 2014 @ 03:32 pm
[Cecil is in his room, shuddering, arms wrapped tightly around his body. Is it fear? Is it the cold?

His closet door is open, and there's a bedsheet draped over it -- covering the mirror.

Cecil's fingers press into his sides, pulling at the fabric of his shirt, nearly tearing it. He stares straight ahead, his bright eyes wide; unseeing.]


My mother always said that it would be a mirror.
 
 
18 January 2014 @ 05:04 pm
[the feed opens on a shot of (a slightly sweaty looking) isaac stood in one of the corridors of the ship. he isn't quite in the unexplored areas yet, but he's close. after spending the past month seeking out a certain familiar face from home (and failing so far), he's debating whether it's time to head further afield yet or not. it's the temperature changes that're the issue here, rather than the potential threats those corridors hold. what if it hits either extreme and he's stuck without supplies to combat it. what if the pack stuffed with sweaters isn't enough to keep him from freezing to death in the next cold patch]

So, engineering is too hot for anybody to head in, and some of the rooms here have ended up pretty cold. [UNDERSTATEMENT. though thanks again, hayley]

Are there any other places that've gotten too- [his sentence cuts off there suddenly, his attention shifting further down the hallway. fixing on something off-camera. taking a shaky breath, he glances back at his device briefly, debating whether or not he should be calling for derek now. but by the time his gaze if back down the corridor again, his reasons for the pause are over. whatever it was is gone.

there's another few moments of silence as he makes a move of his own, doubling back a little further in to the explored areas. a strategic retreat, for now]


...uh. Right. So, like I was asking, what's the likelihood of someone getting stuck somewhere that...I don't know. Burns them up or something?

[he may not have found anywhere like that yet, but that doesn't mean the possibility isn't there. but with that question out the way, isaac takes a moment to change the settings of the feed. to lock the rest of this from those from his world (and hayley/ric/jenna). it's a call he should have made weeks ago. months, even. but that hadn't been an option before. not with derek there helping him. now though-

when he speaks again, his voice is far quieter. he knows the others aren't going to take this well. that even though the people here from beacon hills may have never met the man, they undoubtedly know of him. the problem with going to a high school is that rumors spread far quicker than you'd expect.]


...dad, please. I know you're here.

[a pause, and a final-]

I'm sorry.

[because obviously he's staying hidden for a reason. considering just how their last conversation went, just how it ended up. it's with good reason. he just needs the man to understand that this time won't be a repeat. it can't. for all that went wrong, they're still family.

and with that, the connection is finally cut.]
 
 
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.]
 
 
[ here's the thing, nico's familiar with this sort of heat, it's not pleasant, especially considering how the ship normally feels, but he can handle it. does that mean he has to like it? nope. ]

Not to call this minor problem to attention, but has anyone noticed that's it's getting warmer? It isn't scorching hot but it's enough that I can tell there's a temperature difference.

[ there's a pause in the feed when nico considers leaving it just at that, because he doesn't really want to bother mentioning the other things, not until he knows more about them, but at the same time it reminds him of things from home and that's— not at all comforting. ]

How many of us have seen flickers of things this month? Not the normal shadows that most of us write off, because when do we not have those on this ship, but— I mean flickers of movement that seem to be going too fast for any of us to actually see what's moving past us. If anything.

[ and if there's a huff of air at the end of that, like nico just realized how insane he sounded, well that's his business. and it prompts him to end up just hanging up, because he's incredibly mature. ]
 
 
15 December 2013 @ 01:26 pm
I'm sure you must all see a lot've messages like this.

[ The man who appears is one who has appeared on the network before -- soft-faced and earnest, anxiety tested in the lines next to his eyes and a direct sort of stare that manages not to miss the tiny camera embedded in the device he's holding. Still, he smiles, just a little.

His address is slow and not exactly formal, just considered. ]


My name is Charles Xavier, and I'm newly arrived. You'll have to forgive me if I ask any questions you've heard before, though I'm doing my utmost to gather what I can on my own. I believe I've got the basic picture, although any advice is of course appreciated.

What I would most like to know is how many are here that had some sort of... [ He hesitates. ] ...gift. A natural ability of some kind, beyond the usual human faculties. A conversation would be of great interest to me.

Thank you.
 
 
06 December 2013 @ 11:02 pm
[ this video begins with the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. Which might be odd since there's no glass in sight. Instead there is only Morgana who hadn't showed her face on the network since her arrival for this specific reason. She takes in a deep, long breath, turns around, mutters something in a language that sounds ancient and two glasses rise into the air, zoom around the room quite quickly, nearly do a perfect circle around each other ---

before smashing into each other mid air. ]


-- blast it.

[ when she turns back her eyes would glint with gold for one second - but the next, they will be their natural green. ]

There are others with magic on the ship, I have heard. I wonder what are the odds of finding someone with magic who is also gallant enough to come and mend these.

[ and yes, that is a challenge. if you're a wizard and and a decent person, clap your hands. ]

-- there is something else I have meant to ask. I know there are physicians aboard this ship. I wish to speak to one, privately.
 
 
22 November 2013 @ 01:39 am





             
DON'T FORGET WHAT I TOLD YOU. YOU'LL HAVE TO MOVE FASTER NOW, BECAUSE IT STILL WANTS TO KEEP YOU.

JUST LIKE IT KEPT THEM :)







( ooc | all responses from smiley will be text. )

 
 
12 November 2013 @ 11:08 pm
[There are several seconds of heavy breathing. Ethan tries to speak once and fails. He'd been so ready for death, and here he is, apparently whole and relatively healthy. But there was the poison. 60 minutes on the dot and he blinked and--now he's here, with no Shaun in his arms. He doesn't remember moving. He must have died.

It's the only explanation, really. He's died, just like his other self told him he would and now he's here and his soul is getting mixed up with other people's souls because there's a memory in his head that isn't his own.

He tries to speak again and succeeds this time, though his voice shakes.]


Is this--is this hell?

[He sounds caught between petrified and resigned, like he thinks he deserves it. Which he does.]

I know...I know it won't make a difference, but for what it's worth, if there'd been another way I would've taken it.
 
 
10 November 2013 @ 01:13 pm
"Judging by some of the numbers, it's been twenty-five jumps so far. Have lived on the Tranquility for over two years now."

[Rey stops and considers this. She's met a lot of people, and seen a lot of people go. In fact, she's not even sure how many of the 001's are left on the ship, and is reluctant to find out.

[Why am I here.]


"Suppose after that long, it would count as a residency here. Am also a century old now, evidently." [But hurr, what are birthdays? And does it even count when she doesn't know what month it currently is?] "Feels much longer after having so many people in my head."

[Unfortunately she isn't just talking about the empathy of other people, though.]
 
 
08 November 2013 @ 07:06 pm
While all of you are no doubt rather busy with your reunions and other such things, I believe it is prudent to take this moment to offer the services of myself or my colleague, Miss Sommers, in dealing with any of the issues that many of you have been confronted with in the last few weeks.

[ Hannibal is all neat collars and cuffs as usual, his black hair neatly groomed back, the lights adjusted so that the red in his black eyes stays hidden; the kindly and professional Dr. Fell, that's all. But for those who received memories from him, there might be a rumble of some familiar evil that menaces them; perhaps something they can't quite put their finger on. ]

Memories, particularly those of the kind we experienced, are difficult enough to overcome when they are indeed our own. Emotional conflict, losses, and for most the absence of friends and family that is not even your own to mourn, can be devastating if not turned in the appropriate direction. Some of you have been the victims of more vicious and unsettling images, such as may conflict with your own peaceable nature. I urge you not to combat these on your own. The psychological impact may be more grievous than you might at first imagine, and in those cases, the experience of a professional is a crucial tool in your continued well-being.

You are welcome to drop in any time. Please do not hesitate. If a confidential meeting or 'home visit' is required, please contact myself or Miss Sommers directly. Thank you for your time.
 
 
08 November 2013 @ 10:52 am
[ this is going to be short.

annabeth doesn't even know why she's doing this at all, because anyone who cares enough will know, but wichita deserves something more than that. she's been here for ages, knew everyone, right?

this video is similar to her last, so long ago. her jaw is set and her eyes are dark, but where there was a storm raging behind them before, there's nothing. an empty look of pain, but not surprise. what more could the ship do, anyway? ]


Wichita's gone.

[ that's all she really wants to say, but the weight of all of wichita's things around her keeps the feed on. annabeth swallows, her eyes moving off to the side for half a moment before they return. ]

I don't know if- [ okay wow, this is a lot harder than she expected it to be. ] She's got a lot of stuff here. Some of it I'm keeping, but if anyone else knew her and wants to come by...

[ she bites her lower lip, before cutting the feed there. they can figure it out. ]