26 May 2015 @ 04:10 pm
[When the feed switches on, it shows Hiro flushed, breathless, and clearly ducked into a small, dark hiding place with a hand pressed to the side of his head and his eyes shut. He tries to keep his voice down when he speaks so that he won't be easily found, but who even knows what someone might be able to hear. Keeping his voice low also helps with the headache that started pounding behind his eyes; which had happened so suddenly that he'd stumbled into things and gotten him into the mess he's in at the moment.]

So-- here's a question. Totally hypothetical... but let's say you got caught sneaking into areas you shouldn't be in or touching things maybe no one wants you to touch. What would you say is the best way of getting out of it?

[He only asks because his usual tactic of "play the totally innocent/dumb kid card" doesn't seem to work so well on the few staff members he's run into in the engineering area, and even the "I'm so sorry, my head's been hurting and I got confused" angle failed. All of which has ended up with him kind of backed up into a corner. He wouldn't bother asking a whole bunch of strangers otherwise. Hiro bites his lip, glances outside of his little hiding spot, then turns back to the camera with a slightly sheepish look.]

It's not as bad as it sounds. I swear. I just... needed some things.
25 May 2015 @ 01:13 am
[A somber face on the video feed. When last he addressed the people on board, it was about loss, and how to cope with it here.

Irony was indeed a cruel mistress, was she not...?]

As... no doubt you will have seen. Seraphim, who was here-- a long time. She has departed us, by more natural means that disappearance, and less natural means than a gentle and faraway death.

She was surely too young for such a fate, and far too goodly. For those who grieve her, like I, I offer condolences.

[A deep breath here, to square himself to the reality, and to keep calm in this.]

But let her passing be not in vain.

Before passing, she left for me, a message. Part of which she hoped to share with all of you. I will read that part now, that perhaps someone here knows how better to make of it than I, and can look at it and know what she meant to impart to us all.

She said you all have to know. It was her final wish.

[And so, reading from a part of that transcript, that it is much too raw and painful, too personal, to simply post the entire message she wrote to him.]

There is an entire other side and it's white...

Deutsch was right.

Tell them it's SU(3) structure...

--rallel univer--it's a compact universe--side the Jump...

[There was the mathematical notation, too, but it was much too long for him to make sense of. The begging, and the emotions still to read on page; this, he would keep to himself. That was meant only for his eyes.]

That's all.
12 April 2015 @ 09:22 pm
[There is a small girl looking at you from the video screen ship. She still looks a little sad, like she's been crying recently but ignore that. She has important things to say.]

Hi,  my name's Newt.  This is my second jump but I didn't get to introduce myself last time.  I thought people should know that Ripley went home. She was my friend so I'm going to be looking after her cat for her until I see her again. His name is Jones and he's very important.

Also when the monsters were attacking last time I saw one from home. If there's any eggs left, you have to be careful because they'll jump out and on your face and then you'll die when they're born in your chest. Fire works best for getting rid of them before they get at you. If you get too many of them they'll take over the ship and kill everyone. And we don't have anywhere to run to.

13 March 2015 @ 11:26 pm
[the feed opens on a shot of a half empty bottle of tranquility brand ~space whiskey. along with another empty bottle lying on its side beside it. to anyone familiar with the bars on the ship, it may be possible to recognize the fact that the feed is coming from the wrong side of the bar. that inside of being sat beside it, he's instead stood on the inside of the counter. (easier access to the alcohol. and considering there's no bartender, it made more sense to him. it did take an entire liquor store last time).]


[…okay, whoops. there's a pause; time spent squinting down at the device. he's making a call to the network, so maybe it'd be a good idea if he laid off the "dead" languages. when he speaks again, there's a weight to his words that comes largely from having to focus so hard on what he's saying. on making sure that he's actually using the words he wants to use.]

There are games I have seen humans play before. Ones that involve drinking copious amounts of alcohol for amusement.

[there's another pause then. one that's only interrupted with the sound of a drink being poured in to a glass. far more than a single shot. it's gone moments later; swallowed easily, and with very little impact on his current state.]

Show me.

[what are manners? look, he has other priorities right now.]
16 February 2015 @ 12:05 pm
I have been thinking.

[Eponine avoids looking into the camera, favoring, instead, to look beyond it.]

After the events of the previous jump... For those of us who are dead where we come from. Here, are we... undead? For we have come back to life here.

If so, why are we different from the zombie dudes? I wore rags, too, once, and was nothing more than flesh and bones. [She's gained weight here, becoming healthier, from her gaunt looks before.]

Yet I breathe.
08 February 2015 @ 07:38 pm
Hi, hey, howdy, konnichiwa, what's up, and how's it hangin' — been a while since I did one of these.

I mean, it's been a while for this place, anyway; I'm still wrapping my head around, you know, the whole "you were gone for like months" thing when I feel like I've never left. Pretty fucked up, right? I feel cheated out of some trauma or whatever. Good times. But seriously, I've heard it's been as rough as it ever is; hope you guys have been hanging in there. I've only been back a month but it feels kind of tense after that spooky monster problem.

[That said, Marty is actually in a great goddamn mood, so he's gonna damn well spread his cheer.]

As payment, I like to formally introduce you to Marty's Power Hour here aboard the Horror Ship Ala Mode. If you've got any Top 100 Songs from the 80's, 90's, or early 2000's, just shoot me a request and I'll see what I got! I can't guarantee anything, but at least you guys can always clean your weird ol' space rooms to the beat of some of the greatest Earth hits ever. Featuring mostly old pop and rap, because those are the single most important genres of all time. No offense, rock, plenty offense to country. 


Here's a good ol' classic, from me to you! Don't do drugs, kids, unless her name is Mary Jane.

And just for your information, I do know the entire dance routine, thanks.

[There's a click, and his shitty old self-fixed CD player is spinning out a tune:]

05 February 2015 @ 10:18 pm
[Filtered from the Serenity crew]

[Throughout the message, Wash keeps glancing at something just off screen. He's not exactly his usual happy goofy self.]

A lot of things recently have gotten me thinking. Some of you have kids, right?

[He glances to the off screen object again and sighs slightly.]

What's it like?
( this jump brought a few unexpected things for ilde; mementos of her marriage (the sentiment of keeping everything she wore on her wedding day; the somewhat more realistic picture of what brought them together in the form of some racy pictures of her strapping british husband in his prime), a confusing photograph of girls she doesn't think she knows with the handwriting of a man who should be dead dated years into the future, poetry books she's missed having at hand ... alcohol she's missed having at hand. there are conclusions to be drawn. most of them can wait.

she has a two-thirds full bottle of a respectably aged calvado, and just poking into the frame is an enormous feather of something that's been set down on the table beside her; looks like her room, although at this angle, it could be anyone's. there is quite the uniformity to them. )

Courtesy Daddy, I intend to have a well-deserved drink and I don't intend to become one of those women who drink alone in the middle of the afternoon, which means I require an accomplice. Apply within.

( ilde is one of those women who drinks alone in the middle of the afternoon. )
30 November 2014 @ 10:01 pm
Brethren aboard, I come to you today with an enquiry most... well, most abnormal.

I wonder-

[A pause here, squinting, as if not entirely sure how to phrase such a thing. Perhaps it will sound like lunacy, but then, he is very used to being called eccentric anyway. So maybe simply coming out with it was for the best.]

-I wonder if anyone has before been contacted, on their devices, by someone outside of the ship?

Someone not aboard, who does not even know the name Tranquility, and perhaps is not even very familiar with the technology here, as I was once not... Someone curious about us, and this place.

[And unwilling to say why, though he should not wish to alarm anyone by making this sound more cloak-and-dagger than it ought.]

Has anyone else ever communicated with such a person? A voice in the void?
15 November 2014 @ 07:44 pm
[ Skye's mostly watched the network, sending a few texts, but otherwise avoided people in any form since she woke up here. She's getting a little tired of ducking behind doors, though. It's like being back in her van and after being on the bus for so long, she's actually feeling lonely and claustrophobic at the idea. There has to be someone here with useful answers. ]

So is everyone here from Earth or what?

Anyone heard of SHIELD? Or HYDRA? I know someone who's really into Captain America. Is that a thing here? Is it too much of a leap to assume that you've heard of America at all?
Who cares if you die?

( feel free to interpret that however you please, denizens of the EXTREMELY POORLY NAMED tranquility! all possible interpretations are acceptable in harry's current state of complete emotional breakdown. he probably doesn't care if any of you die, for instance, and may bitterly resent you for having an actual answer to this question.

who cared when norman died? who really cared. people mourned the man who'd contributed so much, but that man was an idea. an image carefully cultivated. harry knew enough to know better, but even he wouldn't pretend to have known his father, and who's going to care when harry dies? just like norman did.

harry's legacy is just disappointment and isolation. his best friend is his only friend and he's pretty sure they're totally not friends any more, also. everything sucks and he broke a bottle when he got back to his room and he can't be bothered to clean it up, he's just going to sit here and hate all of you, publicly and violently, and

you know, by text, because he looks even shitter than usual. )
26 September 2014 @ 09:45 pm
[Here is a very squinty look as Combeferre looks out, er... tries to look out at the network, anyway.]

It having been a long several weeks, this may not be the best of times to ask some medically related questions, but I have been getting my headaches...migraines, you call them, in the future, with more frequency since my spectacles were, ah, destroyed in the corridors a while ago by what I think was meant to be a ghost of my...

[What exactly IS Marius to him, right now? Combeferre had never liked the man so much as he had been completely baffled by him, a bafflement that had lead to his giving Marius a cooler reception than he probably deserved, and he had wanted to like the man for a while, even here. That was, up until Eponine, and, while he will not say that Marius should have returned Eponine's love (particularly as that would leave him minus a girlfriend), he does believe that the younger man still ought to be worked harder to be kind to her, and he certainly was annoyed enough with ghost Marius to attack him, anyway. And then, he'd been just plain angry, and, well, it is a complicated situation, he supposes.]

Well, a ghost from my past, I think it suffices to say, and that has really nothing to do with my question. I've been having problems without my spectacles of any rate, and I have been wondering about...is there some way to create a new pair here, or to do the laser procedure I've found mentioned in some of the medical books I have been looking over, lately?

There IS still the method of waiting and seeing if a jump is kind to me, but if it cannot happen, I would be curious if there is anything else that might help me as well.
Current Mood: curious
21 July 2014 @ 12:10 am
[The video feed opens on a Combeferre who is grinning slightly idiotically. It’s a different look for in public spaces, honestly. Jehan and Courfeyrac may recognize it, but they are the only ones from home who do . Clearing his throat, he begins to speak after a bit more of setting up.]

I have rather an important bit of news to share with everyone, particularly those of you who were so good as to help me see the way out of tiptoeing around the truth.

So good to help! [That would be another voice, low in pitch and gravely.] Michel! To whom are you addressing? Tell me it was Jean and Reynaud, and no other. [By now, a rather small girl, a few years younger than Combeferre has made her presence known, frowning at the screen. Say hello to Eponine, everyone.]
announcements, cuteness and wayward chairs! )
Current Mood: cheerful
17 July 2014 @ 09:48 pm
[ Your resident 19th century cynic is overdue for an introduction. But, in his defense, it's taken him a while to figure out how the hell to use a smartphone-- there are a lot of things to get used to for him here, okay?

The first thing that appears is his dark eyebrows knitted together in a face that's obviously puzzled but intelligent looking. He's rather enjoyed the challenge of tinkering with this thing, and he shows a triumphant smile when he realizes he's done it. ]

Wonderful. A strange piece of equipment, but nonetheless remarkable.

[ Clearing his throat. ]

Hello, all of you unwilling citizens of this terrible place. You may call me Grantaire. I suppose this is an introduction of sorts since I have only arrived a few short weeks ago and this is, I'm sure, the first time many of you have seen me. I appeal to you because I'm looking for some... [ he hesitates over the word "friends," but he's not sure he qualifies for that endearment amongst some his group from home. ]

...acquaintances of mine from my previous life, who I've been told are on board but I have not met in this vast place as of yet. Given the violent and, apparently, tumultuous nature of existence we seem to be in here, I think I should find them before the next "jump" sees fit to do away with them. Odd, isn't it? How fleeting everything is. Well, at least we have use of these to find each other; it's certainly a helpful tool.

[ Tapping his screen emphatically as he speaks. The communicator makes an electronic noise as the camera turns around and back to him, making his eyes widen with surprise. He raises his hands away from it, afraid of making another error. ]

...My apologies, I'm still trying to master the use of it. I won't bother you all any more, in any case. Should you have met anyone by the name of Bahorel or Combeferre, please inform me. Or if you are one of them listening here, that would make this exceptionally easy.

[ With a smirk, the feed ends. He did figure that bit out well enough. The big red circle was certainly eye catching. ]
11 July 2014 @ 07:23 am
[Johanna flicks on the video with a glare. The room around her is dark; the screen lights her face from below. When she speaks, her voice is a little rough and hoarse, like she's been shouting a lot, very recently. (She has.)]

Hi, friends. [She bites out the word.] Just a little message for you all. You've all gotten really comfortable on this hunk of junk you're calling a ship--or what's passing as a ship-- [And she manages a little smirk at that--] --which, come on, it's crap. But I get it, it's not yours. You're all just prisoners here, it did some horrible things to you... yeah.

And that's where this comes in.

[She holds up her arm, where her tattoo is clearly stamped out, fresh and new.]

See this thing? This isn't a fashion accessory. This is bullshit. The last time someone shoved something in my arm and told me to smile and get on with my life, I didn't put up with it. I'm getting this thing out of myself, and if any of you have any sense--you'll do the same. You wonder how they get to you? It's things like this. But I'll bet you already knew that.

Well, fuck that. Fuck all of it. I'm not doing that again.

You want us to join up and help you run this ship? --Or resist this ship, or fight whatever you think is here? Here's my offer. First person that tells me how to get this thing out of my arm without dying, I'll join whatever they're running. And you want me on your side.

08 July 2014 @ 07:23 pm
[The camera flickers to a start, lens half-blocked by a slim finger as it is joggled into place. A sharp buzzing can be heard every time there is a muffled thump against the phone, until the communicator finally unlocks with an artificial click.]

Hello…? Ah, Hello!

[As the video steadies, a young woman comes into focus, arms held aloft to keep the camera in place. The communicator wobbles occasionally as she uses a free hand to adjust her ruffled and somewhat cumbersome skirt.]

My sincerest apologies. It told me to tap to ‘unlock’, which I did, but it seemed…unresponsive. To be quite honest, I can only hope that anyone can hear me, even now. But no matter! Even if one can only hope someone is out there, listening, it is far better to speak out than sit in the silence doing nothing at all, wouldn't you say? Well, whoever you may be.

[Feeling a little more confident in the device's usage, she pulls the communicator closer to her, no longer at a full arms length. While she seems relatively calm at first glance, there is an underlying urgency to her tone.]

Well, that being said, I wondered if perhaps anyone saw or knew of an older man, peppered grey hair, a kind and caring look about him? He answers to U. Fauchelevent; he is my father, and I can hope that he may also be somewhere on this ship. I have not seen him since arriving here.

[Her concerned countenance gives way to a pretty blush at the mere thought of her next inquiry. It's silly, since she's already asked Eponine, who hasn't seen hide or hair of him, but that doesn't mean no one else might have.]

And…if anyone has seen a young man, one who goes by the name of Marius, could I perhaps inquire of him as well? Well, I had hoped that--

[The video feed cuts off.]
02 July 2014 @ 09:10 pm
How do you keep faith, here? How do you remember that God wants...how do you keep some kind of faith, keep from losing your mind with the things that happen to us?

My whole life I've heard God; all I had to do was listen and there He was, like music, like a symphony, and even when I was at the height of being terrified, there He was just working the notes of this great symphony. But then I followed that music, I followed Grigori, and I did something and now I can't hear anything, for the first time I've lost God and I just want Him back-

What if I did was unforgivable? What if saving another person isn't enough? What if what I did has stained my soul?

How do I keep believing that God loves me when I can't hear Him anymore?

How do you keep faith?
21 June 2014 @ 08:10 pm
You're not alone. People you care about are calling for your help, and you want to go help them. I'm going to ask you to be a little more patient before you run off into the dark. We know they're lost, we know there's something pursuing them, we know they need help. But we also know that the most recent post on the network, the one talking about warnings from the captain - a captain we don't have - wasn't made by one of us. That means this problem is bigger than you think; it's bigger than all of us, and it's important we get a clear image of what we're facing before we leave. Shepard's team has gone missing, and other comms have started going off the radar too--we'll start where they disappeared, and if we do this together, we might even succeed. The last thing we need is more of you lost out there because you chose to do this on your own.

Right now I need your help in a different, but just as important way. If you've received a message from someone, we need to hear them. That way we can establish a thorough list of who's missing, and try and piece together what they were all trying to say.

Tyke, as Head of Security, is going to coordinate the rescue. I imagine she'll speak to you shortly herself. Rest assured we'll need bodies on the ground for this one, and I know there's going to be no telling some of you to stay put, so forgive me if I - at least - save myself the effort of trying. The corridors are dangerous: bring weapons, ammunition, your communicator, but don't worry too much about rations--you won't need them.

[ He seems about to sign off, but he has to address that post, the grinding static and the screams underneath it, all of it so familiar to him by now. ]


"They're getting closer." I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like a coincidence. Whatever we find out there, whatever is after our people, try not to kill it unless you have to. Don't get killed, but bear in mind the risk that we may be deceived into murdering people who would be our allies. I can't shake the feeling that we're being set up. Alright. Hang in there, everyone.
02 June 2014 @ 10:16 am
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.]