29 April 2015 @ 09:05 pm
[John turns on voice because he looks too much like a wreck to turn it on video. He's fine. His voice doesn't even sound too bad.]

I'm alive. Dealing with shit. Not the point of this.

I'm struggling with nightmares and insomnia. If someone would be willing to help me with that, I can pay you back somehow.

I also need some clothes patched up, if anyone's good at sewing.

[He's about to leave it like that, just quick and business-like, but he sighs, continuing.] You know, my mom was a good person. So was my dad. He was a cop, and he always fought for justice and the right thing, and he's the reason I'm a cop myself. Sometimes whoever or whatever's in charge gives us horrible things in our lockers. But sometimes... sometimes, it leaves nice things.

[He flips on video for a second, and all that's visible are his fingers holding up a photo. The photo has a woman and a man with a small boy, all smiling. Yes, that's John's family. And yes, John looked like a dork as a child. His hands move a little, but just to turn it back to voice.] Tell me about your families, if you'd like.
28 March 2015 @ 12:11 am
[ Hey, Tranquility! It's your resident busybody who has no authority or jurisdiction, and no justifiable reason to be taking point on this one, here to kindly inform you he's decided to try and take point on this one. He appears solemnly, wearing that well-perfected dangerous hunter face. How scary. Such intimidating. ]

I'm gonna make this quick and to the point.

[ He declares, voice barking out frank orders like a damn drill sergeant or something. ]

Those people on board- those are people. Not some... evil... dictatorship, not a bunch of spies from the goddamn dark world, not soul-sucking ringwraiths here to steal your jumpsuits. They're just people, and they need a rescue, not a lynch mob.

[ Have a firm and pointed look, because he knows some of you are planning on shooting first and asking questions later. Screw that. ]

I'm going. Anyone who wants to come along and help, I'm leaving in an hour. And before you sign up just to turn around and put a bullet in them as soon as we get there, I want to make one thing clear.

[ And let the cold, dark look in his eye carry just how serious he is about this: ]

You try anything stupid, I'll knock your ass out myself and leave you in the hallways for whatever's hungry.

[ end transmission. ]

( after 1 IC hour (so a few tags) Dean will abruptly stop replying and will be focusing on surviving the hallways. anyone is more than welcome to tag along to his big ole rescue group of friendship and mistake-making! )
10 December 2014 @ 01:46 am
So I have a few things to talk about it. First, I'm always looking for a sparring partner, hand-to-hand of course, but I could also use a target practice buddy. But I could also teach people if that's something anyone would want.

Okay, second thing. Frankly, I'm tired of burnt or otherwise messed up meals. Could I get a cooking 101 class from someone? I can offer hand-to-hand training, shooting training, or booze in return. And just be aware that you're working with perhaps a lost cause. And yes, I ate out a lot back home.

Finally, if someone had a big problem with guilt, how would this person be able to get past it? Like to stop blaming themselves?
07 October 2014 @ 07:02 pm
[another peaceful morning on tranquility-or, er, tranquility's equivalent of peaceful, nobody has died today anyway- is suddenly broken by a small explosion, somewhere on one of the higher floors that isn't really being occupied.

and if anyone is wondering just what the hell that was all about, jasper is scrambling onto the network just two minutes later. goggles askew on his head and a dark smear on one cheek as he smiles waveringly down at the comm, the sight of smoke wafting up behind him just barely visible over one shoulder. his voice is slightly raspy but for anyone that's spoken to him recently, it's getting much stronger.

Hey, so. Don't worry about the noise or anything, we've just never used these kinds of accelerants before and we're trying to work out a formula for heat and range of the blast.

[he frowns a little and rubs vaguely at the stain on his cheek, only managing to spread it around even more.]

And I don't need to hear anything about how dangerous explosions on a spaceship can be okay, Raven and I both grew up in a space station, I think we know what we can get away with safely. [and then he's back to grinning again because, well, blowing shit up, how can you not smile, right?]

If anyone has something small of theirs that they'd like blown up-- maybe a trinket from an ex [slight, barely there glance over his shoulder at something (or someone) off screen] or something else you don't want any more, feel free to bring it by!
04 September 2014 @ 01:27 am
[John's been trying to stay off the network. He sounds and looks worse than he is. He thinks. He looks pretty bad, though. He's sweaty, tired-looking, and pale with dark, dark circles under his eyes. Now and then, you might see a space between teeth where another tooth should be, or missing nails on his hands.]

I know I've been quiet. Sorry about that.

[He winces as he settles back down on the bed. His voice sounds tired and hoarse.]

I've just been wiped, but I guess I'm not getting any better. I've gotten the gist of what's going on from your posts. I don't have anything helpful to add, except if you need help, call me.

[He sighs, thinking for a few moments.] What would you do if you were on a path of self-destruction, but it was the only way to redeem yourself? Would you continue in the hopes of being redeemed? Or is your well-being more important? Being vague here on purpose.

[That's not alarming or anything. Good job, John.]

If I know you, a quick 'hello, I'm alive' text or something would be helpful.

And I'm just a cop, but if you need some muscle or an extra pair of hands to help with finding out what's going on, I'll be there.
11 July 2014 @ 10:01 pm
Okay, I was warned this spaceship is creepy, but it goes straight for the visual distortions?

I guess I should introduce myself. Detective John Kennex. If you've come across a synthetic named Dorian with dark hair and blue eyes, a woman named Anna with dark hair and brown eyes, or a small but authoritative woman named Maldonado, let me know. It's important.

Anyway, I'm new and I could use a tour guide. Any volunteers?

[He usually wouldn't ask for a tour guide, but he really wants to learn more about this place.]

[ooc: Just in case you were wondering, in regards to the visual distortions, John's having side effects to a drug.]