25 August 2014 @ 10:38 am
[ Soooo… Peter might not be lookin too hot right now but he’s trying his damndest to suck it up for the camera. Granted he could look far worse, the fact of the matter is that he’s supposed to look like he runs the medby, not like he’s about to become one of its patients. But whether or not he doesn’t look 100%, Peter exhales in preparation before he actually addresses the camera he’s just turned on. ]

We know that the majority, if not everyone on board right now is sick. I also know that lots of people have already offered up advice and ways to help others- most importantly, we’re urging everyone to try to do something to help themselves. If you don’t trust the medbay enough to stop by, then at least take it easy. Do what you can to take care of yourselves. Stop trying to buck the system and pretend nothing’s wrong. It won’t help anyone.

That being said, if you do stop by the medbay, we do have ways to help.
[ He pauses for a second, just so he can sigh, a frustrated note to what he’s about to say. ] We don’t have a cure but we can treat your symptoms well enough to offer some relief. There’s a variety of methods and resources we have to offer and even if you aren’t interested or just outright dislike the scientific side of things, then maybe you’d be more willing to take a different approach. All i’m saying is you have options, it doesn’t hurt to consider them.

We’re even starting to consider handing out chicken noodle soup to anyone who walks through the doors. And hey, if that sounds good to anyone, let us know, we’ll see if we can manage it. But, apart from that, i’m handing over this over for some more specifics on what we actually know about the disease we're all up against--


[Swivel camera to William Tsang.

Like his companion, he looks like shit. Everybody looks like shit lately. Still, he looks to be trying to maintain reasonable spirits, maybe for the audience's sake, or his patient populace, for all that he does not (can not) refute the bleak picture set forth by his companion.]
Aye aye, this is William Tsang, medical officer. Right now we don’t fully understand the disease, but we’re working on it. We’ve determined that it is associated with a mineral deficiency in the body, and that knowledge is guiding some interventions.

Speaking of interventions-- lately we've had in more staff, and we've still got the resources-- both magical and technological-- that we've had for the last few months. That includes spells, potions, pharmeceuticals and now, apparently, mineral supplements. Symptom relief appears to last up to three hours at a time. Limits must be taken into consideration depending on what you take-- blood plasma concentration for drugs and herbs, cost to the caster for magic, potential complications in all interactions with the ship's... idiosyncrasies.

As such, these interventions are recommended largely if your symptoms is quite severe: loss of consciousness, repeated falling, high fever, intolerable pain, continuous vomiting and dehydration, that sort of shit. In general, we currently advise rest, fluids, and food.

Please keep in contact with each other-- make sure there's somebody you can talk to for help, that someone knows where you are in case of crisis. If you haven't got anybody, that somebody's going to be me. Or wee Petrelli there.
[He jerks his head in the direction that Peter just went off-screen.] Do your best to discourage each other from giving in to really fucked up cravings. Don't think the nanites can sort out ingested needles or that sort of bollocks.

Thus far, known symptoms include these.
[William holds up a tablet display.] If you experience any symptoms ain't on the list, please alert medical immediately. [A beat, and he remembers to press his face into a smile.] We also appreciate any information about when yous first started exhibiting symptoms, as research is ongoing. Cheers. And back to Pete--

[ Aaaand the camera’s back on Peter. ]

Think that actually covers all of it. For anyone that’s got any questions, feel free to ask. But more important than that, take care of yourselves.

[Text attachment titled: care-providers.4444]
(Contains list of Medical staff, active volunteers, and a note about Granny Weatherwax (potions))

[ blue is peter, pink is william ]
 
 
18 August 2014 @ 09:38 pm
[Well her stuff is moved and helping with food deliveries isn't very time consuming, so Ai has some down time. A lot of down time. Even more then back home. She's starting to realize how little she has to do without her job. Which is why she finally decides to ask another question. Have a quiet voice from a quiet girl]

I'm not used to having so few duties.

What do people do in their spare time here?
 
 
26 July 2014 @ 02:26 pm
[ It's a bit past time since Sam should've introduced himself to the network. He's been running himself ragged exploring this ship, trying to understand it, and especially what caused the disappearances in those corridors. But it came and went like the wind; no source, no logic, nothing. He was used to the unusual, was dealing with a whole 'nother ball game, here. ]

I'm told that there's a Gunnery Crew on this ship. Does anyone have any other information on it and possibly joining?

Additionally, since I'm run into a few people here who have never held a gun before, if anyone is interested in a lesson or two, I'm happy to provide. [ Not that his gun made much of a difference in that...darkness fiasco. He has no illusions that his model will protect him from everything on this ship. But having it on him settles him, as it always has. Maybe some others here would feel safer with a thin veil of protection, as well. ]

Finally, does anyone know where the gardens are? I can't seem to find them. [ Considering this place is as big as Manhattan, it's unsurprising, but he was hoping he'd find it on his adventures on this ship. ]

Oh, and I'm Sam, by the way.
 
 
25 July 2014 @ 02:06 am
[ the camera turns on to reveal sally, up close at first but then she props the communicator up on her nightstand and scoots back to sit cross-legged on her new bed. she lifts a hand to push her hair back behind her ear but seems to think better of it (for bite-scar reasons, not that there's any real way to know that), instead opting to press her palms together with her index fingers to her mouth for a half-second while she thinks of quite what to say. ]

Right, so I know everyone's super busy packing their shit and trying not to live in some weird sci-fi ghost town, but you can totally put that down for a second because I'm seriously bored and we're playing a game.

[ okay? okay. ]

Pretty much everyone has some kind of space booze, right? Good, because there's this game back home - it's called Never Have I Ever. For pretty much the 5% of you who haven't actually heard of it? It's... actually pretty stupid, like for frat guys or thirteen-year-olds who found their dad's stash, but just shh, humor me here. Basically, someone starts off like 'Never have I ever blah blah blah'. Never have I ever ~ridden a bike~, never have I ever... I don't know, jumped off a cliff. Anyway, everyone who has done the Never-Have-I-Ever has to take a shot. Or a sip, or a rain-check for when you do have booze, or even just drink juice or something - it doesn't matter, that's not the point.

The point is, there are apparently way more people on this ship than I realized and I know pretty much nobody, and I know I'm not the only one. Apparently solidarity is a thing, so why not actually get to know each other a little? I mean, beyond that whole A/S/L survey that went around - not that it was bad or anything.

And if you roll in just to, I don't know, shit all over the game or something? Then you're a jerk and a loser and you should suck it up and play anyway. Like, what's the worst that can happen? You forget to be an angry douche for like five seconds?

Anyway, let's tear this shit up.

I can start, this one's easy:

Never have I ever voluntarily left the planet Earth.

[ go ahead and start your own 'never have i ever' top-levels, even if you don't reply to hers. c: ]
 
 
17 July 2014 @ 12:18 pm
Hey everyone.

I'm sure some sort of demographics survey has been done in the past but I haven't seen one since I've been here and I'm curious. I've tried to keep it pretty basic. I know people are touchy about their privacy, and I know some aren't cool with being asked about special abilities/skills/powers/whatever, so obviously skip questions if you want to, no hard feelings. I'd rather just get name/age/planet than nothing at all, you know? Not like I'm going to hunt you down and force you to fill it out. But if you're willing to be more complete that'd be awesome and if there's something you think is important that I didn't include a field for, let me know.

Maybe there's a pattern here somewhere, maybe there's not, but at the very least it might be interesting or provide some useful data for department recruitment or something. Maybe you'll find some friends, whatever.

Thanks!



UPDATE: On request from several of our fellow passengers, I'm adding a 'relationship status' field. You're all welcome. Feel free to edit/update your entries accordingly if you want to.

(ooc: feel free to treat this as threadjack city as far as I'm concerned. if you squint it's kind of almost like an ic cr meme?)
 
 
14 July 2014 @ 09:17 pm
[The video comes on to reveal a normal-looking 15 year old boy, lying on his bed in his quarters on the thirty-third floor. It looks like he was messing around with the smartphone and accidentally started recording. He makes a stupid face or two for the camera, but once he realizes it's actually going out to people he sits up and looks sheepish.]

Uh, hi. So... I wanted to say thanks for the smartphone, I guess. Always wanted one of these. Too bad it comes with a price of "holy crap I'm stuck in space."

[He looks off to the side, worried. Then back to the camera.]

Look, I get that nobody knows why we're here, or how to get home or anything like that. But it sucks, okay? And I can't be the only one who feels like saying that. I mean, I have stuff I need to do back home. [Under his breath, he adds,] And I'm totally gonna get expelled if I miss any more school.

We don't... have to go to school here, right? There isn't some space high school they're gonna drag us to, is there? 'Cause the only thing worse than chess club is space chess club, am I right?

[No one is laughing at your joke, Sam.]

Right. Well, uh. Later!
 
 
10 July 2014 @ 07:18 pm
So it's come to my attention that i'm one of the last ones left on the medical team on board. And now, the one who's been here the longest. [ Peter sounds a touch strained - for a variety of reasons - maybe a little on the tired side. But he's altogether more than willing to be doing this and he sounds enough like it to get by. ]

My name is Peter Petrelli and I woke up from a month long coma to find out that the entire department is under my control. I know I've missed a lot, but that doesn't change the fact that i'm happy to take on the mantle. What that doesn't mean is that I'm planning on trying run the whole thing by myself or considering ruling with an iron fist for my own benefit. But I might as well take the position that's been handed to me by way of default and make the most of it.

For those of you who don't know - who're new around here and haven't heard about it yet, we've got jobs that're set up by departments. That's the simplified version. If you want to hear more about all of them, I might not be the perfect person to ask considering I don't know everything about all of them. But if you're looking for a job doing something, ask around. There's more than enough opportunities for everyone.

But that's not what i'm trying to get at. [ A pause, only noteworthy because of the sigh that follows. ]

After missing a jump and the entire month that followed, i'm pretty sure i'm behind on who all's now in medical and who might want to be. Half of all I want is to meet everyone who's joined that I haven't met already, make sure i've got an actual grip on things. The other half is to try and find anyone who's interested in joining. We'll take anyone who thinks they can offer any kind of help - we're lacking in staff right now, or we were last I knew, and finding some more help would be appreciated.

Or if you just want to stop by the med bay to talk about it in person, feel free to. I'm here now if anyone's interested - I won't be going anywhere anytime soon.
 
 
10 July 2014 @ 04:43 am
And we're back. To those of you who are new, welcome to the Tranquility. For the rest of you, you know why I'm speaking to you now. It's been another month, and those of us who ventured into the hallways last month--whether we made the choice ourselves or had it made for us, here we are. This is our home now, we chose it.

On the topic of Shepard's last message, I know many of you are divided. Let me better frame it for all of you, in the hope it helps you to understand why my stance on it is so hard line. Shepard was punished for trying to pick apart the ship's secrets, held until there was no hope of her getting out. She and her team sent out messages deliberately intended to snare us into the trap - in places they didn't even know what they were saying - to get us to go in there. We resisted. We fought our way back when it threw everything it could at us to get us to stay. Now they apparently want us to go back in. Well it's not gonna happen, and I strongly advise you not to try, even if it's true that I can't personally stop you. Why am I so convinced? Because of something Shepard said.

[ A clip from the message plays, Shepard's voice: ] Formally suggest volunteer only operation. Something is different. Something’s in my head.

Ultimately it's your decision, but don't say I didn't warn you. And believe me, I know what you saw. I saw it too. I saw what I want most in the world, but here I am, and this is where I'm staying.

Javik and Shepard, as usual with those who go missing as well as those lost during the jumps, have been added to the mourning wall in the garden chapel. These were good people, their actions were the actions of heroes, not fools; but most of all, they were friends. I've got a mean streak in me, so here's the deal: you got a bad word to say about them, keep it the hell to yourself. That's my last word on the matter.

[ Nathan is pure Tranquility by now. Gone is the suit jacket and tie, last seen long months ago. He wears clothes bartered for at their last stop, a three quarter length brown leather coat and functional, hard wearing clothes underneath, space age fabrics in dark forest green and darker brown. He's still the same man, but he's adapted. And he's only half done with his talk, his expression still serious. ]

Alright; Tranquility business.

There's gonna have to be a few changes if we're gonna keep living here. Don't mistake me--the ship's gonna step up whatever it's got in store for us, and we can't keep losing unity the way we are. This is jump thirty three, that means thirty three floors; more floors than we have security. Those of you who are new will discover that fresh food from the gardens is only being distributed on floors marked 1 and 6; alternative food is still available in the kitchens on other floors. So agriculture is terrible, the security situation is equally troubling, and then medical most of all; the latter is presently, by way of seniority and...well, other things, in the hands of my brother Peter--you'll find him an apt leader, but he's no surgeon, so good luck if you get appendicitis.

What I'm getting at is a crucial need for people to join departments. Now we've been working on a volunteer basis this far and it's worked fine, but if we don't get people growing food and cleaning up medbay after the jump, fixing shuttles, protecting the halls and maintaining our communications network, survival here is gonna get more and more unpleasant. You like your conversations getting to the right people, don't you? Well so do I. How about them apples? And getting off the ship, despite being a damn deathtrap near every time we do it, that's real great when the oxygen isn't whistling out of the shuttle you're in right? Yeah, I think so too.

If more people don't sign up, we may have to start rationing luxuries...at worst people might start dying, and there'll be no escape route if the ship is gonna blow. I don't want any of that to happen and neither should you.

[ At last it seems like he's close to wrapping up. ]

Last month's losses shouldn't change how we continue to approach survival here, and believe me when I tell you that your first battle is to survive. To do that, we all need to pull ourselves together and keep doing what we usually do, irregardless of our personal feelings. Fight club, space training, weekly dinners, and above all work--routine is how you stay sane; take it from someone who's been here for a while And remember if you decide to get wasted on space alcohol nightly that when your liver fails nobody around here can do a damn thing about it.

But most of all we can get through this if you're all there for each other; we're stronger together. We'll survive together.

Petrelli out.
 
 
08 July 2014 @ 10:16 pm
[Marissa turns on the video the day after the jump. She clears her throat, turning the device so it frames her face just so. The first thing that's obvious is that she has a gnarly black-eye, courtesy of Hanna. The background is just a wall with no distinctive marks. It also may be strange that she's wearing dark gloves. Another strange thing is, she might look a lot like your resident psychic elf and queen of England...

She smiles, and to some it might be a reassuring smile, but to some others, it might be a little off. Her accent is Southern, and her voice is authoritative.
] Hello. My name's Marissa Wiegler. I wanted to explain the debacle that was yesterday.

There is a girl on this ship. Her name is Hanna. She is a very disturbed girl. Her father has brainwashed her into thinking I would do her harm, turning her into a deadly weapon for his own selfish benefit. She is highly dangerous and manipulative. I don't recommend talking to her or interacting with her at all.

She has already assaulted me once. It won't happen again. I will be in hiding until I can be sure that I will be safe. Do not be fooled. She was genetically altered to be the perfect soldier.

Trust me. And stay safe.

[And she turns off the feed. For the curious, this is the ongoing thread of the 'debacle'.]
 
 
11 May 2014 @ 12:10 am
I'm looking for SHIELD.

[ That's it. That's the message. On another day Maria might be a little more communicative but for now this is more important. She has a few names from Thor but she'd like to know who else is here - SHIELD and associates. And other. People she'd rather avoid broadcasting to that she's here.

Do you know them? Are you SHIELD? She'd be very interested in knowing ]
 
 
10 May 2014 @ 07:34 pm
( nuala isn't often in the room given to her by the tranquility - so rarely, in fact, she hasn't been there since that very first broadcast that brought her to the ship's wider attention. she's there now, though, her hair still damp but tied low at the back of her neck, pulled out of her way, dressed in a simple gown of pale blue.

it's a bit more rumpled than she usually appears, but then, she's not alone, either. the beast periodically visible in the background of this broadcast may explain the slightly rueful pleasantness of her expression, and the fact she hasn't even bothered trying to straighten fabric she knows is likely to just get rumpled again the second her new friend decides she hasn't been paying enough attention to him (eg ALL OF HER ATTENTION). )


This fine gentleman's demeanor leads me to believe that he expects particular companionship. If that companionship is yours, you may collect him from the room number listed in this broadcast within the next hour, or from the elven flets any time after that.

Thank you.

--oh, no, no, my dear, it isn't a toy--!

( the feed cuts off as nuala hurries to rescue her father's silver prosthetic hand. )
 
 
08 May 2014 @ 10:53 pm
Hello, my dear friends and employees, or otherwise unpaid labor, of varying qualifications and levels of skill. [The woman in the video looks like a man, actually.

Specifically, a younger specimen, fair-skinned, possibly English in ancestry for those of us for whom the idea of England has not gone entirely out of style or yet to come in. He has squidgy eyes, floppy brown hair, a smirk that gets him laid, sometimes, usually only if he's using it to format a particularly nerdy pick-up line. Charles probably looks approximately as inebriated as the last time you saw him, if you saw him since Arima, but that certainly is his comm device.]
This is Charles Xavier, whom you should recognize as the leadership of the recent Xenobiology undertaking in the etcetera etcetera.

[He waves, vaguely. Etcetera. From the perspective of the video, it appears that the left half of his shirt buttons has been closed up two holes too high, leaving the front obviously misaligned.]

I regret to report that I'm entirely pants at drinking, and I am in consequence quite shagged. Not in the fun way, [he reassures.] No, I reassure you in that department I remain devoutly deprived. However, I would like to encourage you all to take the day off work, as I will be nursing a hangover in the thing. [He gestures off-screen, vaguely also.] And we must lead by example. Tuhraah.

[Click.]


(OOC: Done with permission.)
 
 
29 April 2014 @ 10:47 pm
When I got here, someone told me that it might be better if I kept my powers hidden.

Since then, I've seen people who have powers talking about them here. It's nice that I'm not alone anymore, but it's not nice to be afraid of what might happen if everyone knows what I can do.

I might have been able to help a few days ago if I had known what was going on. For example, I haven't tried it before, but I think I might be able to put out fires. I just want to be sure that it's safe for everyone if I make the attempt. I don't want to hurt anyone.

So, what do you think? Do you have powers? Were you born with them? What can you do? Do you hide your powers here? Is there a reason why I should, or why I shouldn't?

Also, can you do the same things that you could do at home? I've been practicing alone, and I can't. I'd like to understand that, too.

If you don't have powers, are you afraid of people who have them?

If you're trying to keep any of this a secret, you don't have to tell me who you are.

Thank you.
 
 
29 April 2014 @ 08:09 pm
[ For so long, Frodo's told himself to stay strong. He was in a place far away from home, away from a purpose and away from his dearest friend. He had friends here; many of them were from Middle-earth as well. But there were enemies out there as well, ones who haunted his very dreams when he slept. They were here, and they were real, and that's why he had to put on a tough face.

But the sudden news has stripped him naked, so to speak. When Frodo shows his face, he looks sickly. His face is pale and his eyes are red. He doesn't try to smile; there's too much weighing on him to make him even attempt one. His eyes are glazed with tears, that show a lot more about how much he hurts than he'd ever dare to let on.

Frodo can't hide it now. His limit's been met. ]


How do you go on, when you've met an end? [ His voice is raspy, and weak. ] When you've met your limit, what do you do?

[ His one hand is clutching to the Ring that hangs from his neck. It's heavier than ever, and the chains holding the necklace in place is cutting into his skin. It was like it knew that he was upset, and was feeding from it... ] Oh, Merry. My poor cousin...

[ A pause. ] How can I go on?
 
 
[ Nathan wears his black bomber jacket and jeans, a rare occurrence for a video post. His hair is slicked back, he's made no effort to shave, and...is that a sword tied across his back. Yes, yes it is. He looks downright rakish, more ne'er-do-well than politician. ]

Let me bring all of you up to speed. If you haven't been watching the network in any detail recently, you won't be aware of the fact that our deceased friend and victim Felix Laurens took to the airwaves to speak to us, ostensibly because he had the information we needed.

Laurens, for those of you who weren't here at the time, commanded the Scylla and her crew, a ship of raiders - pirates - that attempted to strip the Tranquility more than a year ago, and caused most of the damage on our two hundred and fifty passenger floors, destroying at least one of them when the Scylla was ripped from our hull during the Jump.

Laurens was certainly helpful; he told us that the place we're approaching is called Arima, a no-good dive for pirates and villains of all kinds, who'd kill you so much as look at you. Whoever took that shuttle fled there, probably to try and find a way off the Tranquility for good, and if they can do it, there's absolutely no reason why we shouldn't be able to do it too.

Now I'm not saying it won't be risky. Hell, the universe out there might be more than we can deal with, but in two and a half years we haven't found a way to make this ship send us home. This might be the only way for us to break the cycle once and for all, and with it leave behind all its mysteries and its brainwashing, and the threat of death, disease or madness that hangs over us every day. At the very least, we need to find out who stole that shuttle, and why they thought it was time to abandon ship.

With Carolyn's permission, I'd like to volunteer to fly the first shuttle down there. Anyone who feels like they could offer assistance securing the landing platform, you'll get priority seating, and I'll attempt to use my experience to establish radio contact with the ship, let everyone know whether or not it's safe. For the rest of you, there's time to think about if you're ready to try and leave, and while we don't have many pilots left, there should be just enough to get us all down there. Even so, Laurens has made it clear that we shouldn't waste too much time thinking. We have days--four at most.

You all have an hour to make your decisions and pack. Do not wear your ship issue jumpsuits, and keep your tattoos concealed at all times. Come armed, and look tough. There's a chance this may be a one way trip, so anything that's precious to you should come along now; there's no knowing whether we'll have the opportunity to come back and get it.

------

Text (added two minutes after the video post goes live to the network)

Do not bring: horses, dinosaurs, heavy armor, large collections of animals, the entire content of your wardrobes, volatile chemicals/weapons/explosives.
Watch this space for further updates.


Private to Netherlands )

Private to Peter Petrelli )
 
 
19 April 2014 @ 10:50 pm
[The feed clicks on to nothing but black. There are muffled noises nearby, someone muttering or speaking as the camera focusses and refocusses, attempting to stabilize a picture of a shadowed environment. The muttering seems to get closer, a rhythmic cadence apparent to it even as the voice remains low and dry, until finally the words can be made out—]

—the scuppers glut with a rotting red.
and there they lay—
aye, damn my eyes—
all lookouts clapped
on paradise—
all souls bound just contrariwise—
yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum.


[There's a pause, and more sounds of rustling and static, and then the device's light is finally turned on, cutting through the shadow to show half a man's face. Harshly featured, pale and haggard looking, and possibly familiar to some on board. He doesn't stay completely in the light, retreating back to a dim distance from the camera and taking a drink from a clear bottle before he starts singing again.]

fifteen men of era good and true—
yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum
every man jack could have sailed with Old Pew—


[—it continues, performance unhurried, maybe waiting for an interruption.]
 
 
19 April 2014 @ 11:54 am
[ A mixed media message graces the network. First, it's text. ]

there is a void that is dark and the dark has form we all stand upon the edge of the void and we
pray
ask god for forgiveness the audacity of asking god for anything we do not
expect what
will be delivered unto us for we


[ And then it shifts seamlessly into video and sound, a voice picking up where text left off as if there were no difference. ]

...will be rewarded in the end.

[ A woman's voice. Raw at the edges, but holds a serenity at its centre. The video is blurry. Blue. Water. The reflection barely visible is straight on, as if the video were transmitted through her eyes. A halo of pale blonde hair. A gaunt but pretty face.

A queasy turn of motion. The video rights itself, handheld, a blur of an Olympic sized pool, reflective tiles. ]


I know a lot of you have been here for a long time. I haven't. This confinement is vast. We're trapped in the sheer size of space. Empty corridors, an empty galaxy. Monotony that makes you starve for boredom, because excitement never portends anything good. At least I can see anything I want to see.

So tell me.

[ She angles the communicator back to herself, the blue, dappled reflections of the pool casting strange shadows over her face. If anyone is familiar with the tall blonde woman who lives on level 29, you may have noticed she's been missing. A smile, suddenly, one that shows her eye teeth. ]

How do you stop yourselves from going completely crazy?
 
 
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.
]
 
 
01 April 2014 @ 10:15 pm
[ elizabeth is seated, and can be seen plucking curiously at the strings of an instrument she has never seen before. it appears similar to the lute, but much larger. this is the first time she has ever seen a guitar. looking over, she notices that her comm is finally broadcasting. yay!

she effects her usual smile, appearing nothing other than cheerful. the strength of the mark she wears is improving here. ]


There is a saying that goes somewhat like this: Ubi bene, ibi patria. In other words, where one feels at ease, there is their country. I have wondered, if that is so for the rest of you. Or if perhaps some of you feel more at ease here than whence you hail from.

[ she is getting to a point, promise. ]

Happiness can be such an abstract concept. Yet I find it possible to find here more so than at Court.

But there is another saying: Aliis si licet, tibi non licet. Simply because others are permitted something does not mean that you are.

Thus if you are not permitted to be happy, what are the permissible steps to take in order to acquire what little joy which may be found?
 
 
Now that I've had the opportunity to see what this ship has to offer, I thought I might introduce myself properly to those of you I did not see in the lockerroom.

[ adam lifts an eyebrow, he's done much more reading than exploring, but it's time to show his face. it's time to get ahead of the people from his world. he's considering doing a really terrifying thing: being honest. ]

My name is Adam Monroe and while it is a pleasure to meet you all, I'm sure we can all agree that there could certainly have been better circumstances. Still, I suppose it could always be worse.

[ he tilts his head, wondering how convincing that sounded. ] I do have a few inquiries that are sure to label me as a new arrival, but here, as they say, goes nothing:

Is there any certain rule or order of law in this place? I understand there are departments that carry out individual tasks, but is there no legislative branch of any kind? I only ask because with so many different people on board, there must have been conflict on this subject before. [ and he wants to avoid ruffling any feathers. ]

I also wonder if anyone has puzzled out the meaning behind these blasted numbers. [ he can't help glancing at his tattoo, frowning slightly in the process. ]

Lastly, is there some manner of - weapons cache? Or an itemized list, perhaps, of all the items that have become public property. [ no reason for this, none at all!! ]

Before I get too far off-base or I begin to bore you all with the intonation of my voice: I would very much like to offer any help I can to the ship at large. I am not overly technical, but I can get by, and I have seen more than a few posts asking after those with a veteran background.

[ he feigns insecurity, wavering between shutting the feed off and keeping it open-- ] Thank you, fellow passengers, for your time.

[ and that's it. ]