10 February 2014 @ 11:42 pm
[The image on screen screams witch. And old woman with grey hair in a stern bun. Dressed in black. Including her hat. Her pointy hat. She also doesn't look terribly pleased, though anyone who has been on the ship long enough is probably used to that.]

Seems we get more 'n' more magic usin' folk every jump. Likely start trippin' over each other if we ain't careful.

Never really held much with covens and the like. But they got their uses fer keepin' track of what everyone else is doin'.

[By which she of course means she can keep track of everyone else's business.]

Worth gettin' together with tea and the like. Make sure there ain't cross spells goin' that'll tear a hole in everythin'.
 
 
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.]
 
 
20 January 2014 @ 12:49 pm
When you’re a kid, maybe you say to yourself:

"I wish I could go to Disneyland."

"I hope I'll get my cock sucked by fifteen. By sixteen, I better be banging someone in the back of dad's favorite car.”

"One day, I’ll get into Harvard and become a brown-nosing yuppie making bonuses bigger than my insecurity complex. I’ll get married even. Have a kid, maybe two. A dog. And if I'm really lucky, I won’t be miserable.”

Those are the sort of wishes that come true. The mundane ones. You don’t say: "Well, one day I’d really like to go up into space. Maybe spend a night or two in a space ship. A journey through space? Oh man, why not? Not like we've only gotten as far as the moon. ”

And then, bam. Space.

Life doesn’t work like this. You don’t get what you want and when you do, it never comes free. So, what’s the catch? Probing, space slugs taking over our brains, being sold as human cargo to a far away planet, a floating menagerie? The options are endless.

((ooc: If you guys could hit up this permissions post, it would be much appreciated. ))