Tranquility, I've a proposal for you. I've been dying for a game of pool, and since I've had a few people express interest in playing -- more than I expected, to be honest -- I've an idea. Let's have a tournament, shall we? Teams or singles, makes no difference to me. All for fun, of course, I haven't anything but bragging rights to offer the winners.

If you're interested, come by the recreation room on level whichever level has the pool tables and join in.

[Pinged to Ianto Jones, Mason Lockwood, Matthew Keller, and Aidan Waite; Public & Unencrypted]
I expect to see all of you there. No excuses. If you don't show, I'm going to declare automatic victory for myself and never let you live it down.

[Howard Stark; Unencrypted]
Can't quite come up with a creative reason for this, so I guess I'll just go with 'how are you?'


[OOC: Actual log for this is forthcoming right here.]

[Tommy's been scarce since the fog and rust overtook the Tranquility like a month ago. Sure, he's made appearances on the Network, here and there, but they've been few and far between. Other than that, he's mostly kept to himself, drinking at the bar or holing up in his room. The whole fucked up experience took a lot out of him, made him confront a few things that he'd been in denial about, namely: 1) he's dead and 2) he has a major drinking problem. Unfortunately, revelation number one fed into revelation number two, so...

As usual, Tommy's had a few too many to drink. It's rare that he gets on the Network sober, and today's no exception. He's sitting in his room, guitar propped on his lap, smiling, although it's more sarcastic than anything else. His words are a little slurred-- looking at him, you can practically smell the alcohol on his breath.]

Hey. So, I've been wondering. [He drums his hands lightly on the guitar.] How many of you are dead men walking? Or women, I guess.

I'm just curious. Wanna know how many of us are out there, people who can't go home, because they-- [He stops short, then laughs, shaking his head.] Because they're six feet fucking under.

Let's get a show of hands here. [He raises his. It's worth noting that he's not wearing his wedding ring. Tommy's not exactly on the market-- EVEN THOUGH HE'S SUCH A CATCH-- but he's coming to terms with the fact that he's never gonna see Jeanie again. Well, "coming to terms" with the help of space beer. Tommy drops his hand and plucks at his guitar idly, still smiling that thin, sarcastic smile.]

You know, I'm still not convinced this place isn't hell. [He looks at the camera for a beat, thinking, as if he wants to say something else... then leans forward to cut the transmission.]

[OOC: SORRY FOR POSTING AND RUNNING FOR... THE ENTIRE DAY. My net crapped out very shortly after I posted this, then DW wouldn't let me log in ablhailfhwioho. Tags will commence in the morning once I've had some sleep.]

There are no mermaids.

[ oh hi tranquility. how's it going. had a lot on your plate these past few weeks? the fog and all that? yeah that must've been awful. ANYWAY, MOVING ON TO REAL PROBLEMS. who even lets this kid talk, he sounds like. twelve.

twelve and incredibly put out by this, thankyouverymuch. ]

There are no mermaids though there is a great deal of water to swim in. And without mermaids, there has been a dreadful lack of murder. I should like this ship much better if there were a proper drowning. [ wow that was not pc at all. peter's tone however, is somewhere between cheerful and petulant without ever quite being just one. somewhere in the background is the faintest sound of leaves being trampled as he stalks about- before he suddenly comes to a halt. ]

Also there are not so many pirates, and without pirates there is not enough stabbing and bleeding. And however could there be adventures without gutting?

Red-Face, can you hear me? [ is he-? y e p. he's totally trying to talk to smiley. ] It is terribly dull without them. If you should keep playing like this, I am sure I shall forget how to have fun!

Just so it can't be said that I'm a girl who doesn't follow through- ta daaaa.



And before you think about making fun of it, consider that I am seriously hung over and still managed to make this stupid thing without using comic sans, okay? That's an act of mercy. I'm pretty much a saint with that kind of self-restraint. [ it's hard to see the girl in question, when she's busy flashing this ugly calendar at you, but glimpses of Hayley's face can be seen from time to time, peeking out from under the hood of a sweatshirt. ]

I took the liberty of arbitrarily assigning holidays after what everyone was kinda talking about the last time I asked? And then like, threw in a few of my own. Holidays are in red, because hey nothing terrible ever happens when things in red end up on the network right? Okay! Ummmmm.

Something-tember the 4th is go find a personified country that gardens and follow him around for an hour asking the most irritating questions you can think of day.

Something-tember the 14th, as every second decided upon Wednesday of every made up month, is slap a lawyer on the ass day.

Annnnnd Something-tember the 21st through 23rd is Space Thanksgiving, because I like eating and holidays built around food should always last more than one day because. Food-comas. And you know, pie. Which is a thing that frankly, should just happen more than one day a month, alright?

But there you have it. Ask and you shall receive etcetera etcetera.
Man what does this say about me and my free time.

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