30 November 2014 @ 12:22 am
[Bahorel can be seen in his room, which seems to have become a bit of a small forest of spider plants, most of which are still in their baby stages. A few have been potted, while some others are waiting to be transplanted, and yet more hang from the original planter in the corner of the room. Although not every surface in the room is occupied, it looks as though it may not take particularly long for such to occur if something is not done quickly. Muttering a bit under his breath,]

A whole new meaning to the word "nursery," Christ...

[Fiddling with the camera just a bit until he can finally see himself amidst all the green. A wide and welcoming grin.]

Halloo, mon amis! It seems my darling Selene has flowered yet again, and at a far more alarming rate than I have seen her do so in the past...

[It may or may not have something to do with that Christmas magic spirit in the air, but such has yet to be determined...]

So I have procured plenty of pots and soil of various shapes and sizes, in hopes that there might be a handful of you who might be interested in taking one for yourselves, or to offer to a loved one as a gift for the upcoming holidays.

If such a thing strikes your fancy, do drop by and take your pick of the litter! Floor 16, Room 132.

[Glancing back over his shoulder, before returning to look at the camera with a bit of a wry grin.]

Doesn't seem like you'll have to worry about missing out, to be honest, but you'd certainly be doing me a favour with a quicker claim.
13 November 2014 @ 02:53 am
[ katniss is slowly getting more comfortable with text. and so she decides to use the network for a quick answer to a question that's been bothering her. ]

Did anyone see Peeta Mellark at the jump?

Could someone go to his room and check on him?

[ you heard it here first, folks, katniss everdeen outsources manual labor. well, that or she's still worried he'll try to kill her. there's a reason she never gets assigned to patrol his former floor. ]
06 November 2014 @ 02:14 am
ATTENTION ENTIRE TRANQUILITY except the creepy-crawlies in the hallways, you stay out

due to the fact that i'm really super sick of hearing about some vague impending space christmas without any kind of actual space christmas, i've decided next month is gonna have space christmas.

so mark your calendars because exactly two weeks after the jump is gonna be space yuleapalooza and none of you actually have any say in it. so don't be an asshole about it. be festive instead.

if you don't know what christmas is: the short story is basically that everyone gives each other gifts of some kind and it's this huge spirit of giving thing and people optionally decorate with shiny shit like tinsel but idk if we have any tinsel? and i guess just ~bonding and closeness~ and all that. togetherness? and like, if you really want to go for accuracy you can turn the heat way down and shiver under a blanket with someone but that's mostly because winter's cold as balls, it's not actually a christmas thing.

in summary i repeat: two weeks from jump, space christmas.

that's pretty much it. later

(fine print: blame sirius)
01 October 2014 @ 04:13 am
[ katniss has had a month of bored recovery after being seriously mutated by last month's illness. she's still embarrassed about the loss of most of her hair, and she isn't a big fan of texting, so this is voice, though she's just sitting on her bed, playing with the pearl she found in the pocket of her suit from home, rolling it between her fingers. it's late. she woke up screaming. she wonders if she should apologize to tyke, sometime, or if that's not something you bring up to your superior. ]

[ initially, she was going to ask someone to take the wedding dress out of her locker before the next jump, so she doesn't ever have to see it again, but instead all the frustration and restlessness and uselessness that's plagued her since her arrival on this ship coagulates into an angry ball. so when she presses play, she just asks one question, direct and simple and with a grit of fury to it that could be interpreted as either petulance or passion. ]

Why are we here?

[ because no matter what happens, no matter how many theories get floated, she still doesn't have an answer to that question. at least the Games had a clear end point, even if the goal was to kill every other person. ]
29 August 2014 @ 03:30 pm
[The video blips on--but as it's meant to be voice, it's not a steady video, or even a good one. The lighting is poor, flickering a little, and at first, the recording is mainly of a hand and a portion of wall. This is one of the lifts, with no life to it. The first sound captured by the recording is a cry of pain, from somewhere off-screen--loud, and low, and agonised--before it cuts off into sharp, panted breaths instead. The video blurs, as Sirius moves--he's the one holding the device, and he hunches over it to record, so most of the image is now his face--]

One of the blue lifts, in the passenger quarters-- it's out. It's stuck, it's not moving. Again. What a shit month we're having. Welcome to space.

[He looks pretty shitty himself, face all pale and hollow, hair damp with sweat. When he turns to look off-video, there's a streak of blood along his cheek, dripping down from his ear. He's looking at someone; he's not alone, the pained breathing, the cry--those belong to someone else. (Sally, actually, midway through a werewolf transformation, not appearing in this film.)]

This lift's meant to be going up to, uh. To one of the higher levels, one of the ones way beyond us. Avoid the passenger lifts for now if you can, I don't know--this one might start up again, and if it does, that's--we'll be all right. And if you do call a lift going up, don't-- jam the door before you let it open, if you can. Wait. You'll know which one this is, you'll be able to hear it, just don't board it. This one's not safe. And no one try and fetch this one just yet. Leave it where it is, just leave it.

[Another sound of pain, from off-screen--louder, more insistent--Sirius bites at his lip, hard, and whether this is to himself, or the Tranquility at large, or Sally, it's not obvious, but he offers--] It's all right.

[Another start of a scream, but by then he's thumbing off the recording, and that's all.]

[[ooc note tho: MOST responses to this will be ic-ly delayed! this is a werewolf transformation in a tiny box scenario. feel free to recognise the voice shouting in pain as Sally's I think that is okay (I will note if that changes).]]
23 August 2014 @ 12:36 pm
I NEEd chains.

[ That's it. That's what you get. Oh, no, wait. She knows exactly what Stiles and Kira would suggest in this moment. She should ask nicely. It's less effort over text than in person, so even though she's rolling around miserably right now because she had it on good authority that weres don't really get sick unless it's wolfsbane, she can manage. ]

Please. :)

[ Be friendly!! ]
21 August 2014 @ 01:50 am
[ katniss is restless with illness, crabby with it. she wants to do something to get her out of her head, but she's worked herself too much already today, knows she's reaching a point where pushing through will only make her worse, not better. so she rests in bed, and tries to find something to talk about. she's not very good at small talk, often only exchanges a couple of words and then considers the conversation over, but there's one thing she could listen to people talk about forever. ]

Would anyone like to tell me about their favourite foods?

[ voice, because she still finds texting too fiddly. after a pause, she adds an addendum: ]

Be as detailed as you'd like.
19 August 2014 @ 11:22 pm
[The screen shows an elderly woman in the medical bay. She's dressed every inch the stereotypical witch, complete with black pointy hat. She has a bottle filled with some sort of brownish liquid.]

Ain't blind to the trouble goin' 'bout. Some of ye fools are tryin' to pretend ye ain't sick. Just gonna make it all worse.

[But let it not be said she is entirely unsympathetic.]

Got somethin' fer aches 'n' fevers here. Ain't anythin' fer the cause but it'll help fer a bit.

[She makes not promises about the taste]
01 August 2014 @ 08:03 pm
[it's a video feed, not that it helps much. not when the screen is almost pitch black. she's hidden away somewhere, the lights cut and the only illumination in the room coming from an empty bottle of jack daniel's; the current home of three glowing bioslugs, hidden beneath an unfamiliar pile of cloth and only barely letting out any of the blue glow coming from that bottle.]

Some asshole once told me how important it was to stay in the light. [hi riddick] I guess that shit's true no matter where you go.

[she leans closer to the camera, her expression almost amused as she continues--]

So, anybody wanna fill me in on what's really out there?

[out in the deserted corridors that keep throwing her back out]
24 July 2014 @ 11:54 pm
Ovid once said, sunt superis sua iura.

[ the gods have their own rules. ]

And so does this ship - and they are always changing.

[ a pause and a smile. ]

My skill with a blade is pitiful at best. One cannot name me a warrior or a knight.

[ some would name her a queen. ]

I find it most useful to fight against armed with gioia di vivere! Such a small battle but I cannot say I have ever lost it.
17 July 2014 @ 12:18 pm
Hey everyone.

I'm sure some sort of demographics survey has been done in the past but I haven't seen one since I've been here and I'm curious. I've tried to keep it pretty basic. I know people are touchy about their privacy, and I know some aren't cool with being asked about special abilities/skills/powers/whatever, so obviously skip questions if you want to, no hard feelings. I'd rather just get name/age/planet than nothing at all, you know? Not like I'm going to hunt you down and force you to fill it out. But if you're willing to be more complete that'd be awesome and if there's something you think is important that I didn't include a field for, let me know.

Maybe there's a pattern here somewhere, maybe there's not, but at the very least it might be interesting or provide some useful data for department recruitment or something. Maybe you'll find some friends, whatever.


UPDATE: On request from several of our fellow passengers, I'm adding a 'relationship status' field. You're all welcome. Feel free to edit/update your entries accordingly if you want to.

(ooc: feel free to treat this as threadjack city as far as I'm concerned. if you squint it's kind of almost like an ic cr meme?)
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.

10 July 2014 @ 04:43 am
And we're back. To those of you who are new, welcome to the Tranquility. For the rest of you, you know why I'm speaking to you now. It's been another month, and those of us who ventured into the hallways last month--whether we made the choice ourselves or had it made for us, here we are. This is our home now, we chose it.

On the topic of Shepard's last message, I know many of you are divided. Let me better frame it for all of you, in the hope it helps you to understand why my stance on it is so hard line. Shepard was punished for trying to pick apart the ship's secrets, held until there was no hope of her getting out. She and her team sent out messages deliberately intended to snare us into the trap - in places they didn't even know what they were saying - to get us to go in there. We resisted. We fought our way back when it threw everything it could at us to get us to stay. Now they apparently want us to go back in. Well it's not gonna happen, and I strongly advise you not to try, even if it's true that I can't personally stop you. Why am I so convinced? Because of something Shepard said.

[ A clip from the message plays, Shepard's voice: ] Formally suggest volunteer only operation. Something is different. Something’s in my head.

Ultimately it's your decision, but don't say I didn't warn you. And believe me, I know what you saw. I saw it too. I saw what I want most in the world, but here I am, and this is where I'm staying.

Javik and Shepard, as usual with those who go missing as well as those lost during the jumps, have been added to the mourning wall in the garden chapel. These were good people, their actions were the actions of heroes, not fools; but most of all, they were friends. I've got a mean streak in me, so here's the deal: you got a bad word to say about them, keep it the hell to yourself. That's my last word on the matter.

[ Nathan is pure Tranquility by now. Gone is the suit jacket and tie, last seen long months ago. He wears clothes bartered for at their last stop, a three quarter length brown leather coat and functional, hard wearing clothes underneath, space age fabrics in dark forest green and darker brown. He's still the same man, but he's adapted. And he's only half done with his talk, his expression still serious. ]

Alright; Tranquility business.

There's gonna have to be a few changes if we're gonna keep living here. Don't mistake me--the ship's gonna step up whatever it's got in store for us, and we can't keep losing unity the way we are. This is jump thirty three, that means thirty three floors; more floors than we have security. Those of you who are new will discover that fresh food from the gardens is only being distributed on floors marked 1 and 6; alternative food is still available in the kitchens on other floors. So agriculture is terrible, the security situation is equally troubling, and then medical most of all; the latter is presently, by way of seniority and...well, other things, in the hands of my brother Peter--you'll find him an apt leader, but he's no surgeon, so good luck if you get appendicitis.

What I'm getting at is a crucial need for people to join departments. Now we've been working on a volunteer basis this far and it's worked fine, but if we don't get people growing food and cleaning up medbay after the jump, fixing shuttles, protecting the halls and maintaining our communications network, survival here is gonna get more and more unpleasant. You like your conversations getting to the right people, don't you? Well so do I. How about them apples? And getting off the ship, despite being a damn deathtrap near every time we do it, that's real great when the oxygen isn't whistling out of the shuttle you're in right? Yeah, I think so too.

If more people don't sign up, we may have to start rationing luxuries...at worst people might start dying, and there'll be no escape route if the ship is gonna blow. I don't want any of that to happen and neither should you.

[ At last it seems like he's close to wrapping up. ]

Last month's losses shouldn't change how we continue to approach survival here, and believe me when I tell you that your first battle is to survive. To do that, we all need to pull ourselves together and keep doing what we usually do, irregardless of our personal feelings. Fight club, space training, weekly dinners, and above all work--routine is how you stay sane; take it from someone who's been here for a while And remember if you decide to get wasted on space alcohol nightly that when your liver fails nobody around here can do a damn thing about it.

But most of all we can get through this if you're all there for each other; we're stronger together. We'll survive together.

Petrelli out.
07 July 2014 @ 11:13 pm
My name is Erik Lehnsherr.

[ His voice is rough, still raw from the scrape of the breathing tube up and out through his trachea. Blood from his nose is clagged thick down the back of his throat, the taste of copper on his tongue soured further by bile. ]

For the complacent -- for those of you content to shelter in place gumming canned corn while this ship bends you to its will: you need only ask if you crave the added comfort of certain death.

For the rest of us: we do what we must to survive so that we might live. It’s true that no dead prisoner has ever escaped captivity.

But neither has any man who hasn’t tried.

If you have a chance, take it. If you’re afforded a choice, make it. Fight, and suffer, and die screaming before you pass on an opportunity to break this cycle.

If no one else will take up the mantle of Commander Shepard’s mission, I will.

[ A pause, then: ]

An entity with nothing to fear from the truth has no need to kill to protect it.

[ The feed ends. ]
07 February 2014 @ 08:06 am
All non-essential personnel are ordered away from the doors outside the bridge. Security will be using force to subdue and remove anyone who does not comply with this order. Please use this time to gather your things and proceed to the stasis pods for the Jump.
20 January 2014 @ 08:47 pm
I need bolts — or arrows, I guess. I can work with either.

[ the opening is concise, sweet, and to the point ( if only because she only recently ruined both of them ) like she's already practiced what she's about to say. she pauses and then quickly adds: ]

And I could probably use a sparring partner. [ and while she loves her dad and all the training he can provide, it's not really the same — doesn't really give her that much stress relief. ] I don't really have anything to trade unless you really like leftover chocolate, so...

[ she trails off, gives a shrug, and looks like she's about to turn off the feed before she actually launches into the real basis for approaching the network. ]

This is a crazy and unrelated question, but does anyone have any experience with — [ wait for it. there's a brief beat of hesitation before it comes out. ] — hauntings? Not just the stuff people have been seeing in the mirror or the hallways, but ghosts. Things like that.

[ because that doesn't sound crazy at all — but she's completely aware of how it might sound, so she shrugs her shoulders, sheepish, and tries to convincingly add: ]

Just curious.
 [First, the screen is black, and there's the sound of scuffling, possibly half-dragged feet.

Then the comms unit tilts and whirls — turns upward to reveal a sweat-drenched kid's face, slightly wild hair in need of a trim and plastered to his forehead. He doesn't seem to pay the screen much mind, looking ahead in what appears to be a random, dim hallway. Not very far from home base, but enough that he clearly should have thought this through better. But then, Takeshi hasn't noticed that, now that he's found himself in a particularly hot spot... well, the power suit's not blocking out the heat anymore (not like last month, but he doesn't even realize the ship is making things worse--); in fact, it's making things way worse, and it's clear by the pale skin and the nauseated face that it's actually giving him heat exhaustion. Probably didn't help that he was chasing after something for a few minutes before that, using up valuable coolness and energy.]

Sorry... I thought — I thought I saw a lady, but maybe it wasn't a lady. Maybe it coulda' been any kind... But I saw them go in the hallways... I wanted to stop them 'cus if they go too far, they're gonna get lost...

[He breathes heavy, blinking just as heavily. His head hurts, and he wants to get mad, but he's also kinda' tired. He finally addresses the feed, wiping at his face with a black-gloved hand, all leather, all heavy, grimacing his lips at the discomfort. He blinks hard and forces himself to refocus, even though he feels a little dizzy. Dizzy, but more determined. Or something close to it. He speaks a little louder:]

S'hot out here. They're gonna... get into trouble.

But I dunno' where I am now.

My power suit's... not... M'getting hot. I don't remember getting hot like this before. I think my suit's broken.

Did anyone see a person run in the hall? Did they see anybody? Maybe someone found them. I swear, I saw a person. I don' want them to die — people die and get lost too much. Like Chase... Don't want the monsters to get them. Someone tell them not to go no more.
12 January 2014 @ 02:37 pm

[So either this is a) VERY IMPORTANT TO BIGBY or b) this is his first post to the network and he still doesn't know what he's doing with his communicator. What on Earth in capslock. And maybe he should have chosen video or voice but -- well. He doesn't know how to switch over to either of those now.

This is going to be an awful learning process, isn't it. Be proud he even made an attempt.]
11 January 2014 @ 05:22 pm
[For once, Enjolras is completely bundled up in the majority of his clothing from home, and huddled in a blanket to boot. He looks somewhat resigned -- cold isn't too much of a problem, but he has grown far too used to being on the ship and in a somewhat moderate temperature, barring the last few weeks.]

I do not much mind a respite from the heat, but this seems somewhat excessive. I do not think I have been this cold since I was in Paris. Does anyone know of a place where the climate might be somewhat more, ah, temperate? I welcome any and all suggestions.