27 September 2014 @ 01:53 pm
[A young woman with bright green eyes and a contrasting white streak at the front of her brown hair looks into the camera. Only a little skin, her face, her neck, and a little bit of her décolletage is visible. As the feed starts, she stops biting her lower lip and addresses the camera:]

Hey, ya'll. Has anyone seen a necklace 'round here? I lost it a few weeks ago, and I've been looking, but I can't find anything. It's small- a silver cross, no bigger than a nickel. It's got a tiny diamond on it, too. It's mostly sentimental, so if you see it, could you let me know?

My name's Rogue, if that helps you locate me. Thanks so much! [She gives a small wave with a gloved hand.]
11 August 2014 @ 10:18 am
[ This missive is from an early-teen with black hair and black shades, as well as a confident bearing and an easy smirk. ]

Hey, guys and gals! Name's Robin, and I work for the Communications department.

Welcome - as per the circumstances - to Tranquility for the new arrivals! For everyone, I know this place is big, confusing, rage-inducing - because most of us would prefer to be back home - and generally not fun. Not to mention scary and sometimes pretty evil.

So, I've been thinking, and - for reasons I can explain, if anyone's curious - this goes for the crowd of sixteen and under.

Y'all interested in a movie night? I can probably temporarily turn one of the holodecks into big-big screen, and I'm sure we can find a movie or three that sound at least a little interesting, from the whole media library.

What do you say?

[ Yeah. Because the sixteen-and-under crowd is not even a little negligible. ]

Oh, and for those of you who come from places that don't have movies, yet, they're sort of moving pictures with sound which tell stories!

So, that's my offer. Robin out.
Current Mood: energetic
29 July 2014 @ 10:22 pm

( and then there's a pause; unsure of what to say, or perhaps automatically waiting for a reply. ) Uh, well, I'm Rory. I've noticed people introducing themselves through this over the past few days, so I… am too. ( he loses the thread slightly. ) Hello.

Sorry. I really don't know what to say about all of this. On this. ( leaving answerphone messages into the void? ) It's nice to meet you; I'll be helping out in medical as long as we're here.

Also, I had a sort of question. We've more or less found our way around the living parts of the ship, my wife and I, but I was looking for a few things specifically. ( short beat. ) For example, trousers?
16 July 2014 @ 07:43 pm
I'm missing a Dwarf. [ The introduction's abrupt and distracted. It's also noticeably Scottish, and there's the sound of a locker banging shut before he continues. ] Not a dwarf-dwarf, it's a— it's a drone, and it's a very, very delicate piece of technology.

He's not responding to remote commands, so either he's been damaged or someone's— [ Someone's disabled it or shut it away somehow, which isn't a very charitable accusation. Fitz corrects himself for the sake of diplomacy. ] He's gotten himself stuck somewhere. About the size of a golf ball, black, blue lights. I've attached a picture. If you've seen it, please give me a call.

[ Losing important robots, great start. The feed ends as abruptly as it started, but Fitz picks it up again about half a second later to add a quick: ]

And if you've stolen one of the roombas, I'll be needing them as well.

[ Diplomacy!! As for the promised picture, he completely forgets it until a few minutes later. So, somewhat belatedly: grumpy.jpg. ]
15 June 2014 @ 11:31 am
Has anyone seen an ice dragon?

[ musing, seemingly to herself, atop her bed. nymeria's head and forepaws are pillowed on arya's thighs and belly. she brushes the sleeping direwolf's neck. ]

There’s a story of a girl who was born during winter. The cold was so terrible it stole into the house and past the great fire her father had built and it crept under the blankets piled high on the birthing bed. It killed her mother, but not her. She was born blue and cold but alive and winter was inside her.

[ children of winter. a fairy story. but arya is a northern girl — no, a woman, now — and though she has not seen winter yet, it lives in her bones. ]

She loved everything about winter. The cold and the grey skies. Making enormous snow castles that turned to hardest ice overnight and playing with the ice lizards that swarmed out of the snow, but she loved nothing half as much as she did the ice dragon.

It came to her when she was very young. She could pet it without burning her hands from the cold. And one day, she got to ride it.

She didn't tell anyone, though. No one had ever tamed an ice dragon, you see. Anyone who'd gone close would be found the next day a block of ice. And it was her secret anyway.

One day, when summer had come and winter was still a long ways away, other dragons, fire breathing ones, came with their riders. She hid and she thought she would die but her ice dragon came to her even though it was summer and ice dragons never come in summer. Even though she wanted to leave and be with her ice dragon in a place where it's always winter, she couldn't leave her family to die. And the ice dragon loved her so much it stayed and battled the other dragons and their riders and it froze them all and it won — but its wings were melted and it was felled.

[ arya takes her time running her fingers through her wolf's long warm fur. nymeria continues to nap, and arya finishes her story. ]

She ran inside the house and freed her family, but when she went back outside, where her ice dragon had been was only a pond of always cold water. She saved her family, but no one believed her. No one had ever tamed an ice dragon, after all.

It's only a story, [ she continues, her tone as even as it had been through the narrative, ] but I always hear of weird animals in other places. Mayhaps someone knows of one like it. The only true ice dragon we have is a bunch of stars: follow the tail and you'll go south but if you chase its blue eye, you'll find north.

[ find home, she means. but there is no ice dragon here either. perhaps it is only meant to live inside the stories old nan spoke in winterfell. ]
25 May 2014 @ 10:22 pm
--ill you stop that? You're all about discipline, right? How about you focus and keep your fingernails away from your back? You've just about made the raw skin bleed again... man, those stitches need off, don't they?

[the voice post opens abruptly with an interjection from a voice that some people might recognize as one of the newest comms specialists on the ship, so that this might almost appear to be some kind of accidental recording, before a second voice, far less familiar (except to maybe, like, two or three people-- i'm looking at you bran) answers in something akin to a snarl.]

Don't lecture me, you're not my father.

[which is pretty much the most juvenile thing damian could have said, but give him a break okay, the increased sensory thing was already playing havoc on his hyper-vigilance and then his stitches decided to start itching like mad.

he continues after a moment though, tone a little more measured, in the way that gritting your teeth can be considered measured.

I am perfectly aware they need to come out, which is precisely why i turned this [probably a gesture at the communicator, but since this is voice, nobody gets to see it] on. So would you shut up for two minutes so I can find someone to take care of this, or would you prefer to cut them out yourself?

[audible face palming can be heard over the connection before the first voice cuts in with a little more purposeful direction this time.]

Guys, and ladies, we really need somebody with good medical knowledge for follow-up of extensive surgery. Familiarity with Tranquility's medical resources is a plus. Any takers?

[and then once more from the sullen child in the corner:] Somebody who understands the meaning of discretion.

Sure. But I'd still prefer not seeing that get infected or anything. So medical skills still higher priority.

[today's network post is brought to you by the letter 'd'. for dick and damian are dumb.]

((ooc: red is dick, green is damian, both will probably answer!))
13 May 2014 @ 03:00 pm
[Summer is, as always, beside Bran, when the video begins. The great direwolf--nearly as tall as Bran, even when both are seated--favors the video feed with a calm and even stare, as if he knows that he is being recorded.

Bran, meanwhile, chooses to smile.]

I am Bran Stark, and this is my direwolf, Summer. His sister and his brother both tread these halls as well. They are not tame, and they are not pets--but they will not harm those of the ship, not without good cause. We have many that are new to the Tranquility, who do not know our wolves so well. Should you have complaint against them, call upon those of House Stark, and we will answer for them.

[Official business done, Bran takes up his device, so he can turn the video to his robotic legs. They look a little like metal braces with heavy straps, encasing his crippled legs.]

But this is what I truly wanted to ask about. These are robotic legs. They were made for me by a friend, who was clever and good and true. He knew much of robotics, but he is no longer here.

I would ask those of this ship if there are any aboard that have knowledge of robotics, that could craft legs like these. And, if there is someone with this knowledge--I would ask to speak with them, to commission work much like this. Though it would be a gift, I would find some trade to make for the work that would be done.

[When Bran turns the video back to himself, Summer has climbed onto the bed behind him. The direwolf takes up nearly the entire bed, but is settling down, curled behind Bran like the curve of a chair. Bran smiles again, this time more quietly, pleased, and he rests his free hand atop Summer's head, like an armrest.]

I have been having strange dreams of late. Not the strangest I have ever had--but strange. I wonder if we dream when we are in the pods, when the Jump happens. I know that there are those that have had dreams... but surely everyone must dream, and only a few remember. I wonder what those dreams are.

[locked to arya & robb... & gendry)] )
12 May 2014 @ 04:44 pm
[ elizabeth sits in the grass, with white roses in her hair and her skirts pooled about her. she looks thoughtful and placid to most, and only those who know her passably well may note an undercurrent of sadness in her features. it is there, but not readily apparent unless one has seen and interacted with her often.

her mother's absence and the hell that awaits her family in the future have not been forgotten. they hang like a great weight about her neck, and in the way her shoulders bow a little despite being straight and stiff otherwise. she keeps her eyes averted from the camera for now, as she speaks up quietly: ]

It all began upon a lovely day in spring
A maiden fair stumbled upon a King
Beneath the boughs of a mighty oak
Whilst two boys clutch'd at her cloak

And lo he came upon them there
Stricken at once by the maiden so fair
He gaze'd at her and she at him
Love-struck and helpless to its whim

[ she releases a long breath of air, and finally looks up at her comm device. her face still appears peaceful, as though the words and the act of writing them have had a calming effect. and perhaps they have. she effects a small smile, though, for good measure. ]

I think it a good beginning. What say you, Tranquility? Putting such a tale to words has been a daunting task, indeed.

I shall continue, and add more to it. But I must ask, are there such tales whence you hail from?

[ and if poetry is not your jam, elizabeth has another query. she holds up a plastic container (a stick of deodorant) and a glass bottle (perfume) and various other sundry items she has found. all sweet-smelling, all utterly confusing to a girl from the late middle ages. ]

And I must beg another query of you, if you please: what are these? What purpose have they?

[ anyone who knows her will see that this is only an attempt on her part to distract herself. sitting idle and stewing over the heaps of negativity life loves to send her fmaily's way has never been her thing. ]
19 February 2014 @ 09:49 am
[She's been here a lot longer then she thought she would. Clearly whatever is here is more powerful then the Lord of Hell. So since it appears she'll be here for a while longer, it probably wouldn't hurt to learn more about the sort of people she's trapped with. And of course, you'd want to know about the most important topics....]

If you could take revenge on the people who brought you here, would you?
09 February 2014 @ 04:40 pm
[ instead of speaking right away (partially because while the buttons are clearly labelled, she'd had some trouble figuring out this device), elizabeth strikes a soft tune on her viola. while she can't afford to express her emotions, music has always been a good outlet for them.

she plays on for a little, and then sets aside her instrument with a soft thud so that she might speak. ]

So, this is supposedly a.. ship? It feels more akin to a prison than any ship I have ever seen.

[ those are made of wood. and you can disembark them! what a concept. ]

I should like to know more information about it, if anyone might be so kind as to indulge me.

[ there is one subject in particular which is of concern to her: ]

So far as I know, it is the year of Our Lord 1483. But I have heard this might not be so. Are such occurrences commonplace?
21 January 2014 @ 01:02 pm
[Bran's smile is only a little wan--and that is only because he is distracted, because Summer is distracted. The great direwolf is sitting at his feet, but Summer has grown large enough that he is still visible in the video feed. Something is ailing the direwolf, making him skittish. He huffs a whine as the video begins, and Bran looks down at him, and lays a hand atop Summer's head.]

Be still.

[Summer's ears flick, nervously; he blinks, and whines again. Bran looks to his device, his hand still resting atop his direwolf's head.]

I am looking for paper--perhaps twenty or thirty sheets of paper, that is not being used. Most things on this ship are written by typing, but there must be some paper somewhere. I can make a trade for it, if it is necessary. And I will need tape-- [That is a new word, but he says it smoothly.] --and scissors, with which to cut. They must be able to do fine work, I think.

[Restlessly, Summer raises his head. The video jars a little, and Bran quickly reaches to steady it, as he gives his direwolf a slightly anxious look.]

In Westeros, great tourneys are often held, where knights prove their merit in the lists. That means a joust, though there is sometimes melee fighting as well. I have never seen a tourney, only heard tales of them--and we have very few knights here. So we are going to let our direwolves race instead, and have a feast, just as if it were a true tourney. [Summer whines again, more plantively. He shrugs out from beneath Bran's hand, turning in a tight circle.] Summer, quiet. It is only a shadow.

There must be a prize, at the end, and I have been trying to think of something good. I have ideas, but they aren't very good, so I thought--

[But what he thought is never realized, because Summer moves quite sharply then, twisting away from Bran and the video with a sharp growl. Bran's face pinches in worry, and he grabs hastily for his device, to steady it again, before he shuts it off. It is an ungainly end to the message, but his concern trumps his good manners.]
14 January 2014 @ 09:45 pm
[ when arya stark faces the camera, it is with all the solemnity of her last video post.

this is not about the fluctuating temperatures, however.

I need blankets, [ she begins without preamble, ] and pillows. I would prefer them with color, but any spares you have will be enough.

[ she prefers the ones people receive than the standard issue, but arya has no problems stripping unoccupied rooms if she must. blanket forts are serious business and it is very hot and humid in the gardens. the struggle is real. ]

I also need—hey!

[ the tension breaks with the sudden and utterly unexpected appearance of one (1) shirtless and sweaty gendry. who unceremoniously shoves face and shoulders into the frame. ]

Who are you talking to?

Get out! [ arya shoves her hand at his face to push him out of the shot. the image shakes as she fumbles with the comm and with gendry. ] Don't be rude!

[ the joys of teenagers and almost-teenagers in space. ]
12 September 2013 @ 01:18 am
[Seth has gotten about two hours of sleep in as many days, and he's getting super bored of laying face-down in bed trying to pass out. Also maybe slightly delirious from sleep deprivation but those are just details.

So instead he has settled for dragging everyone who looks at the Network down with him. He's sitting up when he starts the video, his hair is sticking out in all sorts of crazy directions and the fact that he's shooting from the shoulders up makes it obvious that he's bare-chested. Look, it's not his fault Werewolves are naturally allergic to shirts, okay?]

Does this spaceship ever land on planets? If it lands on a planet and there's nobody there, do we get to name it? I'd like to know where to formally submit my suggestions, because I'm thinking Sethtopia.

[For someone who is dead tired, he sure is disgustingly chipper. In fact, he practically bounces in place when he remembers to ask:]

Hey, are there any aliens here?
11 September 2013 @ 10:12 am
[nill is in her and heine's room, sitting on her bed. she's cradling her comm in her hands, and it's directed at the bedside table. on that table is a small pile of white feathers. she lets the camera sit on them for a moment before turning it to herself. her wings are tucked back behind her, though the tops of them look a bit ragged. at least she isn't terrified this time. she still remembers the first time she molted and how scared she was. but now she just looks tired, her hair tied up with the golden ribbon sansa gave her so long ago to keep her hair from catching any smaller feathers.]

If anyone needs feathers for anything let me know. There are only a few now but there will be more.

And hello to anyone new from the last jump. I am Nill. If you need help with something please let me know. I will do my best to help.
19 August 2013 @ 09:13 pm
[The screen shakes for a moment before steadying. Cat looks slightly uncomfortable, not because of the fact that she's addressing the entire network, but because she is so utterly unused to this form of communication. Even the people are foreign, and she has already seen how different their beliefs and practices are.]

Firstly, I plead you bear with me as I learn the ways of this ship, for they vary greatly from Westerosi customs. I will not be offended if I am informed of any missteps I may commit. [She's not going to threaten to behead any people, she means. But she's not above having them hanged.]

[And now, onto business.] My son has already announced my presence on this ship, but I would introduce myself. I am Lady Catelyn Stark, mother to Robb, Arya, and Bran. My children have been here far longer than I have, and I thank the residents of the Tranquility for ensuring that they are safe and well-cared for. House Stark owes you its gratitude.

[She pauses for a moment, carefully constructing her next words.] I understand there are those here loyal to my House, and friends besides. I would have you introduce yourselves, if it please you. If we are to live together amongst the stars, then it is best we are familiar with each other.
24 July 2013 @ 07:53 pm
[ the girl and her wolf sit in front of their newest favorite spot in the ship: the windows in the shuttle bay. nymeria dozes next to her while arya stares at the thousands and thousands of stars. she had tried to count them and got as high as sixty-three before she got confused and had to start over. she only got to forty-seven the second time, but she didn't mind. she had time. ]

where are your favorite places to go on the ship
they have to be good places nothing stupid
i already know about the gardens and the bar so i do not care for that

[ before anyone (scotty) says anything: ] i finished all my work and i am not asking for more

[ and before anyone else (robb) sticks his face in: ] no place that would get me in trouble

[ yes good—wait. ]

thank you

[ perfect. no one can say she wasn't polite. ]

LOCKED to Bran
[ for him, she switches to an audio feed. ]

Do you want to do something?
20 July 2013 @ 07:11 pm
[ the device is set just beneath one of the trees in the garden and allows the viewer to see that someone hanged chains upon chains of these from the branches!! ]

Hey Tranquility!!

[ so where is Rapunzel? heard but not seen! ]


[ and then, from the top of the tree, a waterfall of golden hair flows down and Rapunzel slides down on it until she reaches the grass. ]

Ta da! I hope you're all doing well. I had an idea! You see, Jenna gave me all these pillows -

[ she points towards a small bunch ]

And I have seen others! and blankets! so I decided to build a pillow fort! in the garden! and since it doesn't rain here ever since we're inside it will hold and not get wet, haha!

But I need more blankets and fabric. so if you have any to spare, I'm over here at Chameleon Land at the gardens!

[ Chameleon Land. that's what she said. yep. ]

Thank you!!
08 July 2013 @ 05:33 pm
[The woman who comes on the screen is beautiful, certainly, but also a little.... unearthly may be the word. Even if the pointed ears weren't visible, it would not be difficult to realize that she’s not human. But her smile is charming and genuine and she addresses the network with confidence and poise, which she hopes is some reassurance. ]

Two months it has been now and still I know so few of you. The fault is largely my own- I will admit to being somewhat overwhelmed by the strangeness of this place. But it is a misfortune that is easily resolved, is it not?

Others have asked for your tales; I think I will ask for your songs. Tell me of the music of your worlds, friends, and I will tell you of mine. It seems a topic worthy of conversation and it may bring some comfort to those who have only recently arrived.
24 June 2013 @ 09:02 am
[ for optimal viewing pleasure, please see the following and allow to run in the background as you enjoy this recording. though the only thing currently in the feed is an angled shot of the treetops in the gardens, this is not an accidental video. there's rustling in the background, like something's moving fast through the leaves coming closer, and it is moving.

a couple seconds later, myfanwy comes flying overhead, a small black shape on her back. it might not be terribly difficult to discern what it is, but don't worry if you miss it, because the pteranodon makes a screech and a sharp turn, sending the shape tumbling off her back towards the device.

river rolls over the feed when she hits the ground, dressed in her tq crew uniform with the legs cut into shorts, hair tied up in a messy bun and hands covered with fingerless black gloves that hardly fit her at all. sky-diving experts or anyone with military training might notice her roll is perfectly controlled to minimise damage, and when she comes back into view, her eyes are wide with adrenaline but she doesn't seem particularly bothered by her fall. ]

Test five. Flight successful. Notes: need to meet higher altitude, consider construction of a harness; ask permission first. No hard turns.

[ she looks away for a second and blinks. ]

I skinned my knees.

[ oops? that's all she says before cutting off the feed. a second later, she attaches a text message. ]

  • driving goggles ( 1 )
  • cowboy hat ( 2 )
  • chocolate ( dark pref. )
  • colors ( blue unnecessary )
  • tour guide
accepting applications for the last. list name, ident, and qualifications below. willing to trade goods and services.

[ namely: simon's services and stolen goods. double oops? river's permission post is, as always, right yonder with all the necessary warnings and what have you! ]