27 November 2015 @ 09:17 pm

[ USER NAME: blake ]



blake's dating service? anyone? ( she's not looking to kick it off again okay she's just curious as to how many people remember that shit storm ) for the people who avoided that little gem, little bits of advice/tips/etc. on surviving in a wild forest with things that want to kill us? might be helpful for people who aren't used to this.

i'll start: please please please always be careful about what you stick in your mouth. don't get me wrong i can't tell you how to live your life, but i don't feel like a repeat of a whole camp tripping on hallucinogenic nuts.
 
 
20 November 2015 @ 10:00 pm
So since no one else is going to talk about it...

Let's do a vote. Show of hands. How many of you think we're all alone here? A whole planet of pretty woods, jut for us. And how many of you think that we can't be alone. Maybe there's some city out there. Too bad you can't leave the camp.

And how many of you think that we're, like, totally surrounded. I hear that's a thing. Because there's spears, and they're stealing from us. Blah, blah. Tell me something real. If there's someone out there? I'd like to get to them first. I'd like to think everyone would agree with me, but I'm sure I'd be wrong.

Actually, you know what I'd love? I'd love for them to come by and try to get at my stuff. Consider this an invitation.
 
 
 
31 October 2015 @ 03:15 pm
[ the mirror-shard is clutched in derek's hand. he's obviously unsteady on his feet, being buffeted about by the wind, but he shoves a mask briefly into frame before moving it aside to scowl down at the mirror. ]

Don't put them on.

[ important psa's that can't wait for sobriety, as much as derek resents having to both address people via mirror and do it while wind-drunk. ]

They're dangerous. Don't do it.
 
 
25 October 2015 @ 09:58 pm
[The mirror begins showing a view of Tyke, somewhere in the jungle, a frown of consideration pinching her brow as she looks down at the surface. After a moment, sure that it's "on", she turns to the side, image wobbling violently as the mirror is passed - possibly a little forcefully. There's a very blurred view of more jungle, a brief glimpse of Charles Xavier, and then the image finally settles on Oxford.

Who, for the record, is wearing a somewhat amused but unimpressed smile. Making the new(ish) boy do all the talking, hm? It’s hard work, being the prettiest face for camera. Since, yes, that’s what they based the decision on for who was doing the talking.]


Good day — [What, fellow stranded jungle dwellers? Oxford tries not to wear his most corporate, people-pleasing smile. This isn’t a generic business speech, this matters, and as a result, his expression is faintly grim.] I’m Oxford, most of you will know Tyke and Charles. Some of you will also know we recently went on something of an adventure, and that’s what I’m here to talk about.

The long and short of it is that we appear to be stuck within a particular territory. A sizeable territory, admittedly, but still something of a limitation in the grand scheme of things, I’m sure you agree. [There is a possibility someone here is either giving him a look or a pinch that says get on with it. Oxford laughs mildly, gesturing with a vague hand in a vague direction.] Once you hit a certain distance out there, you start getting nosebleeds, headaches, and my strong recommendation is not to keep going. Please.

[And people using themselves as living test subjects, which he keeps to himself but adds a light note of strain to his voice.]

While we don’t know exactly what it is, we have our suspicions that it’s something to do with the… consciousness that Charles discovered before, that we’re still connected to it. Tethered, if you will. We realise it doesn’t seem like much information, but if you have any further questions, we’ll try to answer them to the best of our advantage. Take care out there, everyone. Don’t push your luck with the perimeter, if you happen to reach it. [He pulls a sudden grin, seemingly out of nowhere.] And now I’m done talking in my daft teacher-voice, you’ll be glad to know.

( ooc: replies are likely to come from oxford, tyke and charles! post is backdated to a couple of days after the stampede. )
 
 
05 October 2015 @ 11:59 pm
[In your hand, if you've been ""lucky"" enough to have been given one, is a dull shard of a mirror. Some friendly bloke probably handed it to you, possibly with an an explanation, possibly not. And now here's why: at some point mid jungle afternoon, you will find that mirror is glowing.

And speaking.]


Hello from your mirror!

[Waving from the narrow surface is an image of Sirius and James, a crisp rendition clearer than any video. Their voices may sound a wee bit tinny, but only just.]

Your mirror, which has helpfully--magically--been connected to all of the other little bits of mirror that we've found--which is replacing the old network, fondly as we all remember it--and by the way, you’re welcome. Thank any witch or wizard you see in passing for this minor miracle, 'cos we’ve worked tirelessly, without rest, to make all this possible.

[A moment of silence to commemorate the kindness of wizards, interrupted by James:]

We accept most forms of gifts. Food's recommended. But I'm not opposed to loads of praise.

Muggles can use it, as well. Just shout at it 'til it works. Some of us were concerned you lot are all five, so rounded edges are a thing. No stabbing anyone with your mirror if they send a message to the bloke you fancy.


No real private messaging, mind. Whatever you send out, make sure you’re wanting the whole world to hear it. I won’t be held responsible for any secrets leaked or confessions made. Nor will James. Will you, James.

Right. Though there's a secret password. Just a heads up. Private messages. Ask me about it later. Especially if you've got something really interesting you don't want anyone to hear.

[The look that Sirius shoots him will go more or less unnoticed and, if noticed, will be otherwise misinterpreted--but James will understand it, and probably Remus, a little bit. He nearly speaks the language, enough to get the broad strokes such as: James Potter, you magnificent creature.]

Yeah, that--and my final note is, I'm still working out emojis, but don't worry. They'll be back.

Cheers, Jungle!


[Twin mock salutes, and they're out! The mirror flickers, and goes to smooth glass again.


red is SIRIUS, blue is JAMES. any questions, please lay them on us at our ooc post!]
 
 
[ The feed begins with a single tone, low, as if testing the audio capabilities of the devices. On the screen is an older man, white haired with bright blue eyes, standing in front of a deep blue banner emblazoned in gold with a circular symbol containing three five-pointed stars. Though his face now is solemn, there are laughter lines soft at corners of his eyes, the set of his mouth one clearly used to the curve of a smile. He only waits a moment before beginning to speak, voice level, carrying an assured authority, a confidence borne from experience. ]

Residents of the Tranquility, I greet you today after many, many years of waiting. My name is Hendrik van Rijn, Prime Minister of the Miraxian Triad, the people who built and launched the ship you've been trapped on. You may not have heard of me, but I have heard of you, and all the terrible events you've been forced to endure as a result of the unprecedented malfunction which took the Tranquility so far from her intended path. I offer you the deepest sympathies of my people, and myself. Mistakes have been made, and I give you every assurance that now, with your return to us, we will find the cause of this tragedy and set things right.

I know you may have heard promises before, and met with the unfortunate souls in our society who prefer to cheat and steal than offer a helping hand. I know you have no reason to trust me; if I'd been through as much as you have, I wouldn't trust me either. But we have someone else here to speak to you, and I hope hearing from her will help to show the truth of our intentions, and allow us to begin the forging of a strong partnership as we move into the future.


[ With a last look to the camera, he steps back, turning his attention to the side and holding out a hand to greet and guide the woman joining him to take center. The woman's face is one known to many aboard the ship. She's gracious as she steps into view, appearing to squeeze the man's hand before she lets go and takes her place.

Odessa Knutson.
]

Thank you, Prime Minister.

[ Her attention turns to the camera then, head tilting to one side as a wide smile spreads across her familiar features. She has a look of health to her. A better diet, some proper sunlight, and time will do that. ]

Hello, Tranquility. [ Spoken in the same way one might ask, did you miss me? ] It's been a long time. Too long. For all of us. [ That smile turns a little sad. They've been through some horrors, haven't they? Time and distance has allowed much of it to become a distant memory. ]

The time has come to stop running. When I left the ship, I didn't know what to expect. We received so many conflicting stories, didn't we? I expected all the worst ones to be true, but it was a risk I was willing to take. I'm sure many of you can understand why. Still, I was afraid that I would find monsters. That I would be thrown in a dark cell and never see the light of day again. Now, I don't say this often, but... [ Her hands spread out to her sides, palms up in a gesture that says just look at me. ] I was wrong. After my escape two years ago, Prime Minister van Rijn's people found me. They gave me food, clothing, shelter, a new life and a new purpose...

To find all of you, and help you to be rescued as I had been rescued. I know most of you aren't like me; I'm starting over here, and I'm happier than I've ever been, but many of you have lives you want to return to.
[ The delight she has in sharing this good news seems genuine enough, especially (or even) to those who know her well. She clasps her hands in front of her, a light in her eyes. ] I've seen what the Miraxians have been working on myself. There's hope, so much hope.

Pack your bags, my friends. We're coming to take you home.


[[ OOC: van Rijn exited stage left once off camera, and responses will come from Odessa Knutson only. ]]
 
 
15 June 2015 @ 04:45 pm
[Serah's face comes in way too close for comfort, if only for a second, before she sets the camera down on a table, propped up, to offer a waist-up shot of her. Offering a smile, she waves.]

I hope everyone can see me. I haven't used the video option much, but we had similar technology on Cocoon. [Her hands intertwine in front of her.]

My name is Serah Farron, and I got here on the jump before the last one. A few of you had talked to me, but I figured I should introduce myself.

Back home, on Cocoon--well, Gran Pulse, I guess, but that's not important--I was a teacher. I don't think we have much of a school set up here, and I know most of us have jobs, but I wouldn't mind teaching anyone up to high school subjects if they wanted it, and I could teach survival tactics as well, but I'm not sure if they'd be useful in space.. I was a jack-of-all-trades teacher since I was the only one in my village, and I don't have any official certification, but I think I can handle it.

[Her smile grows brighter. She's not sure if anyone will take the offer, but she's always willing. It would bring some sense of normalcy, here.]

Also, I'd like to get a job in support or security, if there's any need. Thank you for listening!

[And with a wave and then darkness mixed with the sound of jostling, the feed turns off]
 
 
08 June 2015 @ 03:58 am
BE ADVISED. NEW ARRIVAL ARMED AND POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS. LEFT MED BAY, POSSIBLY HEADING TO THE HIGHER LEVELS LOOKING FOR A WAY TO ESCAPE.
 
 
16 May 2015 @ 01:52 pm
[ Charles Xavier has managed to time this video for a moment when he isn't bleeding from the face, but his face is quite white, like maybe he has been not so long ago. When he speaks, his tone is level and informative-- but in most other ways, a certain amount of anxiety radiates off of him.

One of his eyes has blood blotting over white at the corner from burst blood vessel. ]


I wanted to share something I found when I was asked to examine Felix Laurens. Some of you know I have psychic abilities and-- well, now all of you do. [ Ha. Ahh. Anyway. ] I sought to find out what-- prevented him from speaking directly, or caused him to behave in strange ways, and a little about how he came to be here at all. Last we knew, he was dead.

What I found was a second presence, buried deep in his mind. His consciousness was separated from it by a sort of psychic, membranous barrier, which I don’t know the nature of. In my haste, I broke through the barrier so I could understand what it was, and-- initially, it was just. Sounds. Memories. Thousands of them, and I wasn't able to make any sense of it. But there was something else, too, something intelligent and aware that seemed to see me, like a single searching eye, and tried to-- do something. Pull me in, is what it felt like, to all that noise. Felix helped break off the connection before that could happen, and I experienced symptoms not unlike the ones we're experiencing now.

[ Charles hesitates. Taps his fingers against the desk. Continues, to the point. ]

It's in everyone. Everyone's mind.

This barrier is, anyway. It reads to me as being "thinner" [ you can hear the quotation marks in his tone ] for those who have been here longer, and "thinner" for those that attended Shepard's recon mission a while back. I haven't looked beneath it since I observed it in Laurens, but only because I fear that I'd find the same thing.

It's also-- I believe-- causing the rolling side effects we're all experiencing now, or has something to do with them. I've observed that there is a resistance happening, a ripping, like the barrier is trying to detach from our minds, and then when we seek physical contact and the symptoms abate, the barrier strengthens. Perhaps it isn't a barrier at all, but a--

[ He stops. He hadn't want to ramble and speculate. ]

Study is ongoing, anyway, about what it means for us, what it does to us. I'll put up my own findings in the archival timeline, and keep it up to date. If-- if anyone like me is looking to confirm this phenomenon, I can't stress enough that it's important you go carefully. It will overpower you, given the chance.

[ Grim public service announcement executed, he tries to consider how to sign off. ]

For those that are newer, my name is Professor Xavier, with Xenogen. Sorry about all that.

[ Aaand cut. ]
 
 
13 May 2015 @ 05:39 pm
[ Appearing on the video, Lydia only gives the transmission some of her attention, busy in the science department. ]

Well, Jasper's gone. Making me the senior and only physical sciences officer aboard Tranquility. If you'd like to consider joining, my name's Lydia Martin. We handle everything nonliving: chemistry, astronomy, physics. My most recent pet project has been an effort in mapping the location of the ship at each jump to understand our flight path, perhaps even predict trajectory.

But with the DUPRR team on board, I'm hoping that project will be rendered redundant. Has anyone had a chance to speak to one of them about their resources? Given that you're all holding them hostage.

[ Strong word, perhaps, but most of them are under guard of some kind. The non-combative eighteen-year-old isn't going to tussle with that, thank you. She'll keep her distance and let other people report in on what they've got to say. ]

Oh, and for anyone who knew him? As of jump 043, Stiles is gone, too.
 
 
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?
 
 
[ By the time Blake gets to writing everything up, it's early in the morning on the 7th, some time around 0700. He doesn't particularly enjoy addressing the network, especially not like this, but the information is definitely something that needs to be shared. ]

At approximately 0415 this morning, and according to witness reports, the individual identified as Antti Basher escaped medical quarantine and proceeded toward the main shuttle bay. At this time, it is believe that Basher made contact with Marcus Rothschild and Odessa Knutson. Basher later stated that their involvement was voluntary, but not premeditated.

The above mentioned individuals arrived at the main shuttle bay at 0421 and proceeded to power up a flight-capable shuttle at 432 by bypassing its main security protocols. Due to the small number of Flight Crew Members in attendance, the unsanctioned presence elicited immediate intervention.

Antti Basher was successfully apprehended in the Control Office by Flight Trainee John Blake, but not before accessing the airlock controls. At 0437 the shutter bay doors were opened without the appropriate warning protocols and authorization. This facilitated the escape of Odessa Knutson who currently remains at large. During this time, several members of the Flight Crew, Marcus Rothschild, and at least one unidentified individual were subjected to unsafe conditions caused by decompression.

At 0445 atmosphere reached and maintained satisfactory levels. The Flight Crew Members then discovered the body of the deceased Marcus Rothschild, the apparent cause of death cited as asphyxiation.

The circumstances surrounding Rothschild's death are currently under investigation.

For a information on obtaining a full report of this incident, please contact John Blake or Hoban Washburne.


[ If it sounds like a police report, well, there's a reason for that. ]
 
 
08 May 2015 @ 05:24 am
"Recently, you've all been told that there is a traitor.

"So you should probably know what it was I did."

[She pauses, searching for the words while she lets that sink in for a heavy moment. One might note that her tones are different; she doesn't sound like her usual robotic self when she speaks. Quite the opposite, actually. Rey sounds almost like-human. In her own way, you could say that this her one big "fuck you" to Smiley. You think she wouldn't tell everyone? Well, now she is. Full disclosure. So there.]

"I entered the dark corridors shortly after the DUPRR crew had docked the ship. Before long it became apparent that the things infesting the hallways weren't approaching me with any hostility. Because they weren't attacking, I was able to reach the secondary shuttle bay more or less without much incident. During that trek I made an effort to avoid others, not knowing the extent of the compulsion and whether it would also drive me to harm anyone who stood in the way." [Well, it's mostly the truth she speaks. You're welcome, William.]

"All that remained was the DUPRR pilot, Neson. Needing his trust, I tricked him into coming with me by pretending to be a person who was trustworthy. It's something I've become rather good at, actually -- pretending to be someone else, much like how I am right now. Despite the fact that something wanted me to kill this man, I decided to will against it.

"It didn't work as intended.

"Instead, I took him to the White Room. I opened the door. And I led him through.

"He's likely still in there right now, where it's kept him."

[She stops, still dizzied from the jump. The more she speaks, the more hoarse her voice gets. She hasn't been using it that much lately, and it's clear from her shadowed eyes and worn features that she's been neglecting more than just sharing this information.]

"Apparently, doing this has-- 'stopped the clock', whatever that means.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
 
 
02 May 2015 @ 11:36 am
Something happened.

[there's a moment's pause. It's taking a lot to make this post. More than he thinks he's capable of. But after all that happened with dean--]

During the recent…invasion.

[okay. Right. He needs to just get it out and deal with the fallout afterwards. His voice sounds more certain when he continues. As though he's simply reciting a few facts as opposed to potentially gaining a ship full of enemies.]

Those who have been here for some time are likely aware of the existence of a creature from my world called a Hellhound. They are invisible beasts capable or tearing souls from the bodies of the living in order take them to Hell.

A number of them arrived during the recent invasion. But without passage to Hell available to them, they deposited those souls in a place they considered safe. Here, that meant the room assigned to me.

[and that's…where it gets difficult again.]

Souls are one of the strongest sources of power in existence, and my Grace had been depleting for some time. I didn't…think. I—

[okay. Let's try this again.]

There are those here who people may have noticed have been behaving differently since the invasion. They may not be sleeping as much, or they may be capable of pushing their bodies further than they should. They may be less empathetic than they once were.

There is a possibility that they are a victim of this. If that is the case, their souls are with me.

I need to return them.

[another pause, and a final--]

…I'm sorry.
 
 
28 April 2015 @ 02:20 pm
[ Home vs. the Tranquility is an obvious choice for most people. For the ones from somewhere particularly awful, the ship's the better option; and for some, there isn't much of an option at all.

Fitz had spent several months thinking he was part of the latter group. He'd thought home meant certain death, so he should appreciate cheating it while he had the chance. Since that had been proven wrong, home had resumed being the obvious choice, despite all its complications — but now Jemma's here, and things are somehow better than they'd been back at the Playground. Add to that a friendly research team offering help to the passengers of the TQ, and the end result is dwelling on questions he probably shouldn't be.

And a broad question for the network, minus much context.
]

Whenever the ship's docked somewhere, it's been too dangerous to stay. But if it wasn't, or if you could get off the ship without going home, would you? If it were possible to go somewhere safe. Different, and not home, but safe.
 
 
28 March 2015 @ 04:00 am
This is Raven Reyes, CEO. [ her words are quick, a little businesslike but mostly just concerned and ready to get shit done. ] I'm down in Engineering and I'm sticking around, so if you need help anywhere lit, odds are I'm the quickest rescue you've got.

Text, call, doesn't matter, just get in touch and tell me everything you can about where you are and what the hell's after you. The sooner, the better. I'm working with strategy, not firepower. If you wait too long, there's not much I can do.

[ end transmission. now she's just going to monitor like crazy and wait for the scared and the reckless to blow up her phone. ]
 
 
28 March 2015 @ 04:27 am
[The feed opens on Tyke in the SEC offices, expression the usual set lines that indicate another security broadcast, another load of fucked up going down on the TQ.]

This is Tyke, head of Security. You all saw that. We need to go in, find them, and get them to safety.

[Certain and hard on the last. This won't be a repeat of the Scylla. She's determined not to play into Ward and Resnik's hands again, but she's fully aware it won't be possible to hold anyone back from getting involved.]

Don't underestimate the hallways. You're heading out, come down to SEC, floor 001, pick up supply packs and weapons. Get in a team if you don't have one.

[There are rows of ship-standard black duffel bags sat on the long board table behind her, packed up, ready to go. She hasn't waited around. She's been preparing since Gunnery's announcement. But there have been some changes on any single plans of recon and recovery, because now their people are under threat, and she knows her priorities.]

Anyone not heading out, get to medbay. We're gonna secure and fortify it, get it stocked. You need an escort getting over there, call us.

[A beat, frowning at the camera.]

Watch out for each other.
 
 
10 February 2015 @ 01:55 pm
[ Natasha’s face on the screen is blank and unreadable, but for those that know her, she’s probably very unamused. She doesn't like it when questions aren't answered, and even less so when she’s actively told not to ask. It just makes her want to ask more.

But this line isn't secure, and Natasha knows better than to push her luck this early on. Thinking of this like a mission is the easiest way to deal with it. ]
Hi. Natasha Romanoff. Some of you have apparently already met me, even though I don't remember it. I've heard a rumor that SHIELD agents are here, so if you could check in with me, I'd appreciate it.

[ As for work, she'll deal with that later. Right now, she has to get settled and get information from people who might actually give it to her. She considers a moment, and then tilts the corner of her mouth up into a tiny smile. ]

Also, I'm into collecting fossils, so if anyone's seen Captain Steve Rogers around, let me know.
 
 
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.]