13 March 2012 @ 10:42 pm
That debacle was pretty much something out of an extra terrestrial movie where various sentient beings are abducted from their home planets and jam-jarred for observation. The subjects are convinced that their confinement is inescapable, gradually assume complacency, and adapt to their new lives under the oppressive scrutiny of a humongous totalitarian microscope. They eventually all but forget Big Brother's watchful eyes behind concealed cameras recording everything down to the minutiae of their daily lives, and any genre-savvy movie enthusiast could easily tell you what's soon to follow.

It's actually not half bad. I'm sure someone out there has had it worse.

Let's get down to business. I'm taking a roll call.

Raise your hand if you're familiar with any of the following chumhandles:
  • gutsyGumshoe
  • tipsyGnostalgic
  • golgothasTerror
If you're not one of them, that's also cool. I'm not going to be disappointed.
 
 
10 March 2012 @ 11:10 pm
[Looks like someone forgot to make this audio only. Looks like someone is feeling a little tipsy...

... Looks like KENZI is sitting on the floor of a hallway, staring at camera like it's something she's never seen before.]


This boat SUCKS MONKEY BALLS! I mean it literally... just-- it ... if it had a mouth. Monkeys would sit-- on the...


Monkeys are douches.


[She looks up, confused, and rubs at her eye] I don't remember where I put my bed... or my Bo. You guys-- you are so lame. And I can't-- WHERE is my fucked up guardian angel-dog-sword-guy? Or the cute kid. And the other kid. And the one with the sunglasses INSIDE! You don't need sunglasses inside SPACE, Robin!

[The feed cuts when she drops the device.]
 
 
07 March 2012 @ 12:34 am
:33 < so um
:33 < best get the bad stuff out of the way, i guess
:33 < ive recently learned that people disappurr quite suddenly on the ship
:33 < several of my furriends have been among them
:33 < at furst it was pretty distressing, but it kinda makes sense in an abstract timey wimey way
:33 < assuming events continue from our points in time, weve gotta get back to our own universes SOMEHOW
:33 < provided our entry into this universe doesnt mean we got thrown into some paradoxical mess
:33 < then again we arent in the game as fur as i know???
:33 < bluhhhhh
:33 < the more i think about it the more confusing it gets!
:33 < anyway, i find it much better to think about the story that *could be* instead of going around in circles with faulty logic
:33 < since i didnt have anything to paint with, i decided to write a story about it instead!
:33 < sure beat the heck outta moping around my room all the time
:33 < i WAS gonna call it "scenario #1" buuuuut now i think ive got a better title!

The Great Catsby


this is the greatest fanfiction you will ever read )

:33 < (im much more inclined to drawing, but i hope you enjoyed the story nonetheless! h33h33!)
 
 
02 March 2012 @ 05:38 pm
Let's play a game. "It's called What Do We Actually Know, and What Do We Want to Know About the USS Gigantitude?" Or as you all like to call it, Tranquility.

Here's an example:

+ I KNOW that there are certain hallways that are off limits.
- I WANT TO KNOW what's behind those locked doors.
(and who's willing to break some rules with me to get those answers?)

+ I KNOW that a lot of us are from different places, and different times, and different ..worlds, apparently.
- I WANT TO KNOW what we all have in common, so we can figure out why we're here. This giant boat is obviously picky, why did we make it to the final round?

If I can't get home, then I wanna know why I'm here. Any ideas? No idiotic answers either, this is me trying to be serious for five minutes.
 
 
01 March 2012 @ 09:18 pm
 
[That is one surly looking alien sitting on a piano bench, a guitar -- just holding it. Not plucking, not strumming, not even tuning. Just holding it.]

Albert Wily is missing.

From what I can gather he's been missing since before the incident in the corridors.

So -- how many is that now? So much for our vaunted security -- official or otherwise -- or the people who pretend like they're authority here-- How many have to vanish before any of us do anything?

Useless. All your talk of organization, of safety -- and not a one of us are safe -- and we don't even know if it's one of us -- or one of them.

[He snorts softly, eyes cutting to the side, before he kills the comm signal]
 
 
22 February 2012 @ 12:13 pm
[ Sherlock is adjusting the video. He's squatting on a chair. The floor, which is sort of in view, is covered in papers. All scrawled over in haphazard notes. He rubs his hands together, eyes intense and focused but there's a ghost of a smirk threatening to break free. His words are precise, perhaps said far too quickly. ]

- Alright. First disappearances, Eight people attacked, an unknown number lost in hallways and now skeletons. Oh this is Christmas.

There's a mute button for those of you that don't care for it or are too slow to comprehend, but I think best when I think out loud. Inputs, provided they aren't dull would be most helpful.

[ Fingers press against the tips of his nose. ]

Now, let's dissect this, shall we? Examine what is factual. One, every jump cycle leads to the disappearances of more people. Two, something on this ship is attacking people. Three, reports of people getting stuck in corridors and finding a door, a door that says open me. Followed by: "Don't believe everything they tell you" and "why don’t you sit down and rest a while? sorry about the mess. best i could do on short notice. you’re welcome." all of these signed with smiley faces. End of obvious facts.

Let's do this backwards start with the fourth point. The smiley face, signatures are important. Take a peek at the way it was worded, first with Hello. Greeting, familial, informal. - Those of us in the first batch [ He'll put air quotes on the first batch. ] had seen it in an abandoned elevator if my sources are right. The second being, the message on the door - open me. lower case, smiley, red paint. Because of it's position we can also rule out child, or anyone too short. The strokes get confident in p, e, n and me. O is faded, thinner. Then you enter the room, suddenly - all capitals. What do all capitals suggest? Urgency, look at me. PAY ATTENTION. The strokes are bolder, more confident. We can deduce paint from the texture, left over smudges and brush marks. The writer was not in a hurry - words suggest no hint of emergency; but it's still a point the writer had to get across. Don't believe everything they tell you. Emoticon, again. Now WHO are THEY?

Now, the bones. Cut, scorned and in Tranquility uniforms. The cuts are precise. A more accurate detail in forensics would have been done had the unsettling Jack NOT CHEWED ON THE FEMUR. But we can note that some of the bones are broken. Yet despite the presence of red in the room, none of this is blood. The food can be taken as a gesture of kindness, like the smiley face. Now if the bones had been here a while, they would have collected dirt. Yet, there is no indication of bone decay or dust. How long the skeletons had been there draws a blank. If I had my riding crop, perhaps an examination of the brittleness would have occurred.

We've been dealing with missing people, perhaps they're turning up? We all go through the stasis tubes during jumps, perhaps a few people in the first batch weren't being entirely truthful about just arriving? A cycle of new people every month is guaranteed, and if there were little left. Pretending would have been easy enough to manage with a small group of people. Perhaps, 'they' is a reference to that? It's clearly not a single person we're being warned about. Look at the pronouns! Now, why would people go missing at all? Consider the possibility that the attacks may be a first stage of disappearances and whomever is writing is giving out a warning?

Oh, so many ideas to explore. Give me facts, give me conspiracies, every theory you've drummed up because -

[ Oh he's outright grinning now. ]

The game is on.
 
 
21 February 2012 @ 05:04 pm
[The video crackles on, spinning for a second before the device settles on the floor. The view goes straight up the side of a metal wall to a pitch black ceiling (if there is a ceiling there). It's hard to tell with the angle, but there appear to be dark scorch marks and dents in the wall, still smoking lightly. Some might recognize the scene as the strange room in the infinite hallways. Still, there's no sight of whoever turned the video on, if they even intended to.

Instead, there's the sound of gnawing. Teeth grinding against bone, inhuman jaws snapping with hunger and delight. Whatever it is, it's enjoying its snack greatly. Maybe a little too much.

The recording goes on like that for quite awhile before the connection finally cuts long enough to end it.

(and if anyone wanders into the hidden room later, they might notice a new set of bite marks on one of the skeletons' femurs)]



((there probably won't be replies to this but feel free to tag each other if you want??))
 
 
11 February 2012 @ 08:39 am
[It has been a few days.

More than a few, as a matter of fact, but they may have well been weeks for all the notice that Snape has taken of the passing time. Following the directions provided, he'd found his assigned quarters and directly stretched out on the bed after only a cursory glance around; still too disoriented and weak to do more than note in passing the continued absence of anything resembling a fiery abyss. Not that that was in any way disappointing.

Perhaps—this isn't Hell after all, as it is so peaceful—or at least it would be, if not for that infernal communications machine; its occasional bursts of insipid drivel managing to penetrate his semi-consciousness. Gradual stages of awareness begin with passive toleration, moving on to eyeing it with open disgust, eventually progressing to reaching out a finger and stabbing at it randomly in a futile attempt to turn the bloody thing off. Unsuccessful in that endeavor, he musters up the energy to swing his legs over the side of the bed and sit up with a snarl, taking it in hand with the possible intention of hurling it against the wall in a fit of rage if he doesn't achieve some mastery over it in very short order, as it continues to spew out (mostly) inane chatter.

After about the twentieth (thirtieth? Fiftieth?) mention of gargantuan crew-less spaceships, alien abductors and the apparent destruction of Earth, he's beginning to feel a certain amount of disquietude, to say the least. Perhaps those people in the 'arrival' room weren't quite as barking mad as previously supposed. Unless they all were.

Coherent enough by this point to manage basic navigation of the contraption (muggle technology has never been much of an interest of his, but it's not a complete mystery), he spends some time scanning through some of the more comprehensive texts with growing consternation, grudgingly coming to accept the realization that he is in fact, still alive (his increasing hunger can attest to that in the absence of any other criteria). Alive in outer space.

A while later and without preamble:]
Presumably people are listening, as it has been my misfortune pleasure to be a party to quite a few of your own communications. After sifting through the morass of extraneous non-information available via this device, it has not been difficult to reach the obvious conclusion that no one has a clue as to what may or mayn't be happening here. In the dearth of any solid answers, are there any amongst you who have a theory of some sort? Extra points for it not being completely ludicrous.
 
 
04 February 2012 @ 04:05 pm
[o hey it's Wily again, dressed, as usual, in an absolutely impeccable suit. From the looks of things, he's somewhere in the passenger quarters, and he's completely surrounded by musical insturments of all kinds. Most look like they've been gathering dust.

He himself has an acoustic six string. He's lounging up against a wall, and he's very casually playing the guitar riffs from this.
]

Thought some of you folks might want to know that I found a nice stash of instruments down here in the passenger quarters. Just. You know. Relevant to your interests.

[Chord!]

There's all types, too; classical stuff for you classical types, violins and such, some horns, got a few keyboards and I think there's a grand piano hiding back there somewhere. No clue if it's in tune. And, of course, there's some electric guitars and amps...

Like I said. Just thought you might be interested.
 
 
30 January 2012 @ 02:00 pm
...So, who else here has worked with ships of this size? I'm curious if I'm the only one or not.

And - ah, I guess horror stories should probably be exchanged too. You know the type - failure of critical systems, lone engineering jury-rigs with dangerous parts. Zero-G navigation, if you have experience... seems like the kind of thing that might be worth sharing.

I've got my own stories, but they're a little... hard to tell.
 
 
27 January 2012 @ 10:43 pm
I forgot to say hi to everyone. So hi! [He waves at the camera and puts on a big smile.] My name is Sora.

How are you guys? Getting used to the suits? I think they're annoying; I already want to cut the sleeves and pants. Can we do that? I want to do it!
 
 


[ The video starts, with the above slammed into the screen. And then, the paper relents and moves back to show that familiar loser kid. ]

Hi, I am looking for a really good person to be a best friend for my good friend, orange Dave! He's an asshole but he's pretty nice, and he has lots of friends like me and Rose and Jade, but one of his bestest friends died a long time ago, and it is really hard to be good enough. So I am taking applications for a new best friend for him. Rose and Jade don't have to apply, but you can if you want! And the rest of you can go meet him yourself later, but he's really nice.

[ And it switches to text. ]

 
 
18 January 2012 @ 08:58 am
No sooner do I finish one interstellar voyage than I find myself the unwitting participant of a second one.
I hope, for all our sakes, that its ending is not quite as explosive as my first.
I have my misgivings about this ship, but sudden and catastrophic destruction is not one of them.
That would be too easy.

To the part-time residents of the two universes I've intimately familiarized myself with, hello again.
To everyone else, greetings. My name is Rose Lalonde.
I look forward to the new acquaintanceships, brotherhoods, and nemeses of the coming days here. I get the feeling that we're going to need them.
I have no intention of blindly submitting to the whims of whomever is in charge here. I shall proudly wear citrus as my hue of choice when it suits me. Noir doesn't feel especially appropriate given recent events.
 
 
15 January 2012 @ 06:27 pm
[There is quite a mess in the kitchen area. Sikozu is clean and dressed once more, so there won't be any naked orange ladies on this post. There will, however, be frustrated orange ladies]

One would think that a ship that insists on stealing people from across dimensions would ensure it was adequately supplied to feed those people.

[More emptying of a cabinet]

Everything here tastes like dren.

[She bit into an apple and promptly spit out the bite. Everything was fit for human consumption which wasn't necessarily Kalish quality.]

I think I'd rather starve.
 
 
15 January 2012 @ 10:55 am
oh wow, are we doing this again?
yeah, i don't have anything better than to do!
i'll just be right here in some strange place AGAIN!
bluh bluh bluh, this really sucks.
unless it's been three years?
oh, wow.
maybe i'm three years older?
i wonder why three years older me decided to get a tattoo of a number.
i don't think things are adding up...
i mean uh hello wouldn't a ghostbusters tattoo be even cooler??
oh!!!!!!!!
maybe this is like the numbers for the ghostbusters!
so now when anybody asks who're you going to call, i can just show them this number!
nice going older me.
boy, i'm really smart when i'm older!
 
 
03 January 2012 @ 04:23 pm
[Oh hey look, a giant winged one-armed spacedog with tentacles and an exoskeleton! Everyone who hasn't been acquainted with Jack yet, feel free to boggle at this nonsense. The fuck is this guy even??

For the rest of you, oh hey look, it's Jack and he seems especially pissed off today while standing in one of the kitchens. What's his deal?

His deal is, apparently, steak. He is holding up the fatty leftover bits of someone's dinner, which he probably fished out of the garbage. And by probably I mean yes, yes he did.]


Do you know what this is, you ungrateful fat fucks? This is PERFECTLY good meat going to waste because some of you assholes are too fucking lazy to finish your goddamn food! Fuck, look at some of this shit-- [he's just gonna start pulling shit out of the nearest garbage now. If you have thrown any food out in the last few days, it's probably in there. Jack might have been rummaging through all the garbage cans earlier to collect this shit. All of it's in varying states of half-eaten grossness.] What the fuck do you think's gonna happen if there's a food shortage, huh?! Or hell, why don't you try eating nothing but cardboard for a whole human year or two! That sure sounds like a fucking blast, doesn't it?!

So let's get one thing straight here. If I catch any of you wasting perfectly good food? You're getting a knife to the fucking gut! Got a problem with that? Don't fucking waste anything! It's not that fucking complicated!

[and then he starts eating those leftover garbagey steak bits

delicious]
 
 
02 January 2012 @ 09:30 pm
[ Good evening, Ataraxion. Have +1 wired and drugged up American reporting from his room, dressed in this. One noticeable thing about him is the fact his hair is tousled, and one eye is sealed shut and swollen. The side of his lip looks busted, but he's smiling nonetheless. His glasses are missing; maybe it's easier to see those dilated pupils of his; but that's just because he hasn't put them back on yet. The rest of his face looked banged up a bit, but he flashed Tranquility a dazzling, blood stained smile. He's trembling as he speaks ]

[ ENCRYPTED FROM WARD & RESNIK, 95% ]
Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey HEYYYY YOU GUYS GUESS WHO IS BACK FROM A LITTLE TRIP that's right America is I bet you guys missed me a shit ton I totally would miss me too, hahahahahahaa!!! But I got myself some stuff right some stuff some GOOD STUFF, haahahaa not like saying that suspiciously or anything but I got SHIT GOOD SHIT check it out man check out this clothing piece of cake man cause I'm awesome fighting in wars and training does that for you by the way I don't think I'm immortal anymore this hahaha oh GOD THIS IS BAD REALLY BAD everything hurts and I'm bleeding and not healing and oh my GOD I'M IN AGONY BUT GUESS WHAT I GOT A FUCKING CHAINSAW AND REGRET NOTHING and it LIGHTS UP LIKE FUCKING CHRISTMAS HELL YEAH ow it hurts to talk really fast like this but you know what's PRETTY HELLA AWFUL OH MY GOD.... THE YEAR...
THE YEAR IS 938 AFTER EARTH, AFTER EARTH. YOU HEARD ME DAMN STRAIGHT I SAW A CALENDAR DUDES A CALENDAR THIS IS HEAVY.....
AAAAAHAHHAA---- AFTER. FUCKING. EARTH, HAHHAHAHAHHAH WE'RE SCREWED GUYS WE'RE SCREWED BUT WE'LL GET THROUGH THIS I'LL SAVE YOU I'LL HELP YOU I WILL BE THE HERO AND GET YOU ALL BACK HOME OH MY GOD THE PAIN THE AGONYYYYYYY. FUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK.

[ He's in near hysterics by now, and the feed clicks off. ]


ENCRYPTED TO CAST MATES )
 
 
28 December 2011 @ 09:14 pm
Okay, let me get this straight. We're on a spaceship, right? We're talking about some advanced fuckin' technology here, living in... Space, and all that. So whatever society built the system that got us here, it's all impressive and futuristic and shit. I'm cool with that. That's cool. I've still got a few questions about how it functions, though.

Like the how the fuck it can blip us folks in out of nowhere, and we're flying through space, but apparently these people didn't have Jersey Shore.

[he brandishes a disc with a look of disgust. somebody misses their cable, it seems.]

I'm not so sure about this fancy futuristic society, man.
 
 
[ Two familiar faces flicker to life in video. This’ll be short and what passes for sweet; they don’t have time enough to do anything else. ]

We’ll be stopping at Tansei Station in about an hour.

[ A sigh. Now, the other part. ] Unfortunately, the ship’s too big to dock at that station safely—we’ll need to dock with a shuttle. There’s only one working at the moment, and we’re taking it.

We apologize. That’s just the way things are. [ They can't fit all of you on it, and they're not playing favorites. ]

In addition to fuel, we’ll be stocking our food stores with meat and dairy products, plus a few other things. We’re also taking requests for personal items. We’ll get what we can, but we can’t promise anything; just tell us what you want and we'll see if we can get it. [ Within reason. ]

Try not to break anything while we’re gone.

OOC NOTE ▒ Direct your comments to either Ward or Resnik by placing their name in the subject line, along with the type of return transmission (video, audio, or text). Comments without a specific name in the subject line will be treated as a question directed to the both of them.
 
 
19 December 2011 @ 07:29 am
[ Alright, she's going to make this short and sweet (by Vriska's standards) and remarkably, not take a second to complain about the whole situation. In fact, things might be looking up for her; after all, she's not stuck in a dream bubble anymore.

Vriska's already taken a moment to assess the damage and the possibilities of her being here, and for the sake of her image only she's going to pretend she understands everything that happened. Luckily for her reputation she's already investigated the network before testing it out. ]


cut for homestuck text. )

(ooc: permissions post here! )