Provided we don't have some sort of space-ship- slash-world-ending-catastrophe, we're having a pool party after the next jump. Two days after. That's right, you heard me, a pool party. There will be snacks, music, and of course, swimming. [ she gives her usual chipper-i'm-in-a-party-planning-monster-mode smile. its charming, i promise.] We all need a little fun, I think.

If anyone wants to volunteer to help setup or has ideas or anything... I'm open to hear about them. [ mostly.]


[Private to Elena and Bonnie]
[ NEWS TEAM ASSEMBLE ] So... I know I didn't discuss but I figured you'd want to help me? It'll be something to do. [ something that doesn't involve the deeper drama going on the ship and their lives.]

does anybody have knitting needles i can use or know where i can get some?





... anyone actually know how to knit, for that matter?

[really stiles? the first thing you actually choose to post to the network and it's this. you're impossible. you're also not helping jason's nickname for you right now.]

[ the feed starts to complete blackness — it resolves itself into a clearer picture of a leather uniform once aramis steps back, though he also just so happens to be upside down. at least aramis has learned enough in his days aboard the tranquility so far that he notices and fixes it a moment later, leaving it lopsided, but the right way around.

he steps back a little further, coming to stand next to porthos. they are both armed, swords strapped to their sides, and not in the ship's jumpsuits but rather in their leather uniforms.

aramis holds a pistol, considering it. his voice is thoughtful. ]

They do say I am quite good with these.

[ porthos, for his part, is still staring suspiciously at the sleek looking square on his end. but he lets up long enough to add - ]

Finest in all of France, I’d wager. The better to serve their Majesties, King Louis XIII and Queen Anne.

[ it’s a spiel they’ve been through before. aramis’ eyes narrow. ] Speaking of their Majesties — if they are here as well, rest assured that we will find them and not look kindly on anyone who has committed treason and harmed them.

[ there’s a gruff hemm of his throat, before porthos adds; ] And if you’ve done likewise with two men who go by Athos and D’Artagnon, it may not be treason, but we’ll be looking just as unkindly.

[ aramis smiles at that, cheerful almost despite the dangerous edge to it. ] To those who are likewise captives, we swear to aid you where we can.

[ and he tips his head. ]



( blue is aramis, black is porthos! musketeers in space, aw yeah!! )

Prior to the jump, an emissary of our local human population melted the door to my quarters shut.

[ Erik glances aside and then back again. Terse. ]

Accidentally, [ he qualifies. He does not make much of an effort to look (or sound) convincing on that account. ]

If anyone has a means to forcing it open again, I have my favor to offer in return. Contact me via this message or in private.

[ There must be an implied thank you somewhere in his reach cross-body to terminate the transmission. Surely. Those with prying eyes may notice an off-color tinge under his arm, and there’s a glimpse of faded blood stained brown at the sleeve. Even after frequent washing, it looks as though he’s been wearing the same shirt for several days. ]

[ This is Bonnie's first post from her pod in Communications. After learning she found her mother, received help, and then lost her, she hasn't felt social. But, her job means she should be social. She's supposed to be talking to people. She's supposed to be friendly. She remembers when she was friendly. She remembers when her only problem was Caroline being disappointed in her cheerleading spirit. She also remembers when her grandmother was eccentric and not a witch.

She remembers when she wasn't a witch. When numbers didn't reoccur in her life, when she couldn't find birthday candles in a drawer she'd never opened.

She remembers when she wasn't living on a floating space station. Spaceship? She's still not well-versed in the difference.

But, alas, she faces her pod, sitting in her swiveling chair.

She had a question, something about how people deal with learning information from their future, but she doesn't ask for help. Nor does she need it. She knows how to cope. That's her life. Coping.

She's done talking about herself. Or, she's done feeling sorry about it.

Which is why she disappears. The screen switches off again. In truth, she's up from her chair and heading out of the communications area. It's an elevator away from stealing something from the bar, something that will go down with a good burn. But, she'd like to not be the girl who's always at the bar on the network. That isn't her. So, she swipes the bottle and a shot glass and heads back.

Again, she sticks her device inside the slot at her communications pod so about ten minutes later, she pops back up again. ]

Hey, TQ. [ Something she learned from Aidan. She pours a shot for herself. ] I'd like to play, how screwed up is your life. The rules are simple. Whoever's life is more screwed up - [ She looks at the screen. ] Drinks.

[ Not exactly a professional thing to do, but she's kind of done right now. Her best friends are both vampires. Two vampires she hates more than anything are on board. And one vampire her best friend loves killed her mother whom she still hasn't met. So, no, he will kill her mother. So, here she is. ]

I do have to warn you. I'll win every time. [ Unless Elena answers. She doesn't even bother locking this from Klaus or anyone. Anybody who wants to chime in, chastise, judge her even? They are more than welcome.

She is not okay.

She lifts her shot glass. ] Any takers?

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. ]

[ Warning, Tranquility, but two more than slightly inebriated teenagers have pushed the wrong button on Caroline Forbes' device. That's right, here, before you is a grinning Caroline. Behind her, stands Bonnie, leaning her head in. Caroline may have given Bonnie the grand tour, and by grand tour, the narration means she was led to the bar. Which is where they are currently. ]

Elena Gilbert. Answer your phone. We’ve called you, like, a thoooousand times. [ Okay, so twice.] Come to the space bar. We’re having space drinks. [ Bonnie interjects with--] Pretty awful space drinks. But, drinks, Elena. Get your butt down here! Up here? [ She looks at Caroline.]  Are we up?

I don’t know and the drinks are not awful. [ Caroline takes a swig of her drink before] And Elena if you don’t come, I can’t promise we won’t dance on the bar and-- [ Its now that she figures out this message is not private.] Whoops. We’re on the network, Bon, so.... Anyone else who wants to drink with us, should! [ And Bonnie chimes in too--] Yes! Bonus points if you're cute and not trying to kill us! Did I just say that out loud?

[ And Caroline is going to butt in with--] Yeeeep. And no Klauses allowed.[ and she mouths, drunkenly ‘Hi Tyler” to the camera before cutting it off.]


[ ooc: caroline is purple, bonnie is blue. one or both might reply to commnts. also action is possible/encouraged!]

[The video feed is slightly unsteady and held slightly too close to Aidan's face, but occasional glimpses at the edge of the frame suggest he's in one of the media libraries. And also druuuunk.]

Okay, so a few things, TQ. One: [--he holds up a finger--] This place really needs a better night life. One sad space bar? Come on, we're mostly all creative adults. There's probably some music in here. [Which would explain why he's pawing around in a library.] Maybe if we all stopped feeling sorry for ourselves and lightened up a little, the whole seeing messages on walls and space ghosts wouldn't be such a big deal.

I mean weird is normal here. Like people who can read your mind and monsters on the comm. Isn't there a dinosaur or something in the garden? --Or like people come here and then they disappear and it's not even a big deal because apparently they just go back to where they came from or something? That's a good thing, right? [A beat. Awkward. The video feed is hanging at chin level before he realizes and rights it.]

So apparently we should just roll with it and get on with our lives. And two: [--he doesn't hold up a second finger. Pauses for a long couple of seconds.]

No, I guess that's it.

[a video feed from a non-disclosed location brings up to show two roombas ready to fight to the death.]

( CUT FOR BIG TEXT )

[ The comms device is on for a few moments, the picture bouncing around one of the rooms like a merry go round, before it finally it settles on a messy long-haired young man. His eyes squinting at the device for a few moments. Not in confusion, more in annoyance. The camera shifts again as he lowers the camera enough to rest on surface before he’s leaning forward.]

First of all. Fuck this place. And fuck whatever bought us here.

Because while wondering around in space sounds like a fun idea. It’s less appealing in practice.

[ His voice is slow and careful, there’s almost held back humour at the whole situation. Because of course this would fucking happen to him. There’s a lull in conversation there, as if he expects someone to answer him. With no answer he continues.]

Fine. Does anyone have a beer at least? Because this shit isn't exactly the easiest to swallow.

Out of curiosity, if someone were to have a certain...affliction. Does anyone have any idea what this fun little ship would do to it?

[Eventually locked from Klaus]

I never thought I would say this, but even I can't drink myself into tolerating this place. Other than people being stupid and making stupid choices that might or might not affect us all in the long run, is there any sort of entertainment here other than the booze?

Any at all?

[Salvatore Brothers]

So how is the polite way to get blood in this place? Or should I just bite the first idiot that seems easy to be compelled enough?

Look, I'm even bothering to ask.

[Ilde]

How is my favorite person in the whole ship doing? Not as bored as I am, I hope.

[Elizabeth of York]

How do you fare? Being much more of a lady than myself, I can't possibly imagine how this place has forced you to change your habits.

 
So!! Okay, hey everybody. How's it hanging? It's Marty here, and I've got some pretty bitchin' news. 

[He's hanging out in a kitchen (where else), and he's got what appears to be something under a sheet, protected under the thin fabric. Judging by the smug look on his face and the twinkle in his eye, he's pretty damn proud of whatever he's concocted. People who have been watching him in the gardens may not be all that surprised by this.]

So, engineering - really screwed some of us up, right? People who went in there got pretty sick, and I'm noticing it's a trend after the jump, too. Meanwhile, here I am, making potato chips. So I think 'Marty, why not make this the best of both worlds?' With that in mind, I present to you my lovechild:



[WA-BAM. He removes the blanket to show a table full of bowls, with sexy potato chips filling every bowl. This is a labor of love, people. Months and months of turning into a stoner farmer, all for this moment. Hell yeah. But wait! There's more!]

I present to you:

Marty's Medical Marijuana Chips!!

Feeling super nauseous right now? Well, these chips here have the goods baked right in; a few of these bad boys and you'll be riding a nice high for a few hours while your sickness clears up. Plus, they taste fucking delicious, and that's the second most important thing when it comes to a little jump vertigo. Granny T ain't got shit on me.

[....]

They're not all gonna be marijuana chips. Just. Jump ones. 

Promise.

[Nobody tell Edgeworth.]