Last time I was this ruttin’ drunk, Mal got married to a-- a-- [ there are some words there that sound vaguely like butchered Mandarin; it’s a futuristic dialect, but the man speaking it is also so drunk that it sounds like the communicator can’t quite translate it. ] An’ I passed out.

But he did later, ‘cause he kissed ‘er on the mouth.

[ The device suddenly turns over, Jayne staring down at it. From the look of him and the several empty bottles sitting next to him -- on the floor -- he’s been drinking for a while. Reaching for another bottle of something that looks extraordinarily cheap, he takes a swig, then sighs. ]

I miss my guns.

[Marty has retrieved his things from the locker; themos-bong, I've missed you so much. So, so much. He has it in his lap and sets it aside, plenty done with it for a good while. It's given him clarity; time to reflect on his life, on his future, on an evil ship doomed to ruin him as much as everything else has.

Okay, so he actually just came into his room, curled up, and cried for a little bit. And then smoked more. It's his depression solution.

But he's good now. He's cross-legged on his bed, looking as though he's been pondering considerably on the state of the Marty. Only whatever redness to his eyes can be contributed to his bong, if anyone questions it--he's too busy focusing on the now, instead of the then. It'll do him no good to let it drag him down; he can keep having all this doubt and survivor's guilt, but he can't let it crush him--because it wouldn't be fair to the others, when they never got the chance to come back.

No, he can figure it all out. He can think long and hard and maybe he can help these people where he couldn't help his own.]

Have you ever wondered if this place is your world's future? I know that's really morbid thinking and all, but this has to be in somebody's future--doesn't it? Maybe something crazy happened, people had nowhere to go, so they ran off to space. It's not like it's the craziest idea out there; we had--whole movies dedicated to stuff like this. Syfy originals. Books. Hell, I think I heard a radio story from ye olden days about it.

[He waves a finger at the air, looking off distantly.]

... I just can't figure out where everything went crazy aboard the ship--maybe there's some... entity. Like a spirit, or a god. Maybe it's getting its sick thrills off making us dance around like little lab rats. Or maybe it's whatever those hypothetical entities created. Maybe--maybe we're just being watched by something that brought us here just to see what we'll do. People say there's no reason we're here, or we haven't found one. But if I had to bet my piggy-bank back home on something... it'd be that. I'd guess it's also why it won't let anyone go out too far from home plate. Or why there are people who aren't people anymore.

Whatever we do, we gotta stick together. Or else... things'll just go from worse to worser. We gotta hang in there. Fuck Smiley and the monsters and the lack of wonderful snack foods--we gotta... just stick together...

[He's rambling now, whoops. Sighing at the sir, he reaches over, grabs his bong and talks as he turns the top, condensing the whole thing down into a normal thermos mug. ILU, thermy.]



I'm gonna go try to invent new things in the kitchen. Anyone wanna go? This place needs way more comfort food, and I'm pretty competent at Macguyver-ing together something worthy of consumption. Might even be able to do it without setting the whole ship on fire, too.

[HA HA it was a joke

just a joke

and then he wanders off without shutting down the feed. Distantly, and growing fainter:]

Maybe I can manufacture some space strain of toaster strudels. 

[And true to his word, he'll be in the kitchens to see what awful abominations he can make wunderbar. He'll answer anything there, too, while he's at it and he remembers to retrieve his comm. Now... what does this place have in the way of sweet stuff? Surely lots of cans and cans and cans and oh look boxes. Feel free to actually find him there, casually drinking from said thermos.]

[ When the feed comes on, Jo's leaning over the counter of a bar. Wichita's bar, Space Babylon, if anyone recognizes it from that alone. ]

Just to send out a heads up, but I'm gonna take over management of the bar for a few weeks. Same hours, same everything, I'll just be your one and only.

[ Have a very proud, 'I suddenly have all the power' kind of smiles. ]

Name's Jo, if you're interested. And before you start asking, no. I don't know where Wichita is. She just told me to take over and I did. [ they have that kind of agreement. ]

Though if anyone's got some free time and would like to hang around and bounce, it would be much appreciated. As much as I wanna run this place entirely on my own...thanks, but no thanks. And yeah. That's it.

[ And Jo gives a sort of wave/salute/what have you as she cuts the feed back off again. ]


[[ ooc: and here's the open bar log for anyone who wants to come by and hang out with jo, or throw up an open tag or anything. Jo will probably be hanging around, chatting it up with any and everyone. Free alcohol, guys, how can you say no. ]]

[ instead of a feed starting, a 'program' begins to run, scrolling down across the screen. no, this isn't really a post (though it kind of is). deal with it. or... y'know, don't. it's entirely up to you. but chuck won't be responding to anything himself. it's a game okay, A REAL GAME. BE ENTERTAINED and choose your own adventure. (p.s. responses of any form are allowed.) ]


.....

> .RUN ADV004
interactive fiction story -- intersect corporations
copyrighted © 2009 by intersect co. all rights reserved
release 001. serial number 890023

( title sequence not ic cut! )

> WELCOME TO YOUR ADVENTURE!!!

Choose wisely on your quest through the caves to defeat the terrible trolls.
They may have thick skin but you do not.

> start _


> YOUR ADVENTURE BEGINS ....

You awaken to find yourself in complete darkness, rock hard ground beneath you. You are entirely unharmed and soon discover you are able to move freely through an open space. The only sound that can be heard is the faint dripping of water in the distance, accompanied by its echoes.

WHAT DO YOU DO NEXT?

> _

[Bail does his best not to show just how confused he is right now. Even surrounded by strangers, he defaults to habits acquired when those around him looked to him for guidance. But he has questions. It's only natural.]

Is there a library to be found somewhere on this vast vessel? I wish to learn of the space we are travelling through. More importantly, of the people on the worlds we might come to.

[A pause while he further considers the situation]

Failing that, would anyone here be able to explain the local political and cultural climate?