You'll forgive me for what a horrendous goody-two-shoes this makes me sound like, but I have got to find a productive way to fill my time here.  I'm one of those crazy people who doesn't mind learning and/or working (I mean I have my limits and skills like anyone but hey) so.

I guess this is a reverse help-wanted ad, sorta? 

[Hello, everyone! It's late, late night, and you're now being treated to the sight of... bare skin!? What?

Yes, it's bare skin, a bit out of focus, but that's what it is. The holder of the device sighs in what she hopes is a thoughtful manner.]

I know the science of it, the biology, yes, but I don't like it. Legs are troublesome enough...

[The feed is flipped over to reveal a young woman with dark, mussed hair and a haughty look. She sounds completely perturbed, but somehow bored at the same time.]

...inefficient as they are. This is a nuisance.

[Camera back to skin, camera back up. Yes, by now you may have figured out that she's showing off one slender leg.]

There's hair. On my leg. On both legs, actually. I don't know whether to be fascinated by the wonder of the human body or completely disgusted.

[Let it be known, Marty drops his comm before he finds a body - there's a sharp clanging noise as it bleeps on video, recording a muffled, panicked voice as the video points to the ceiling--]

 Hoooly shit -- holy shit, holy shit.

[There's the sound of feet scuffling, a soft plunk of something liquid being displaced, shoes squeaking. All the while, the nasally mantra of curse words and mumbled confusion continues for a little bit.]

Hey--are you--??

He's dead -- jesus. [A deep breath.] Awww maaan... Sorry, dude, that blows.

[Suddenly the device is picked up, showing Marty's confused face; it's video? He looks back, swallows hard, places his gun out of camera back into his belt as the screen catches what appears to be blood and a man's leg in the corner of the screen, in said man's passenger room. That would be Manfred Von Karma. Marty had stumbled upon his corpse, and it's all history from there.]

Aaaahm -- there's. Uh. There's a fuckin' dead guy up here; he like, just died. There's no pulse or anything, I checked, but I don't think -- he hasn't been dead for a long time. Maybe we should lock our doors? Everybody should probably go inside their rooms? Who the hell do I talk to about this?

[He seems thoroughly disgusted by his knee, looking up, exasperation and anxiety bleeding together.

Not quite as panicked as he could be; he's been around some fucked shit. But still -- this is bad. This is really bad.]

Gaaaaah, I touched blood. Fuck. Sorry.

((OOC: Part of Edgeworth's murder mystery plot! See post 1 and post 2 in the ooc comm for details. Marty's gonna be taken in and questioned as a possible key suspect in the crime until Edgeworth steps in to 'confess', don't mind him. People who might find him on the scene are totally okay for action instead of video, or whatever.))

( two idiots walk into a bar -- or not. it's really just danny and han sitting together with a couple bottles of empty beers and a deck of cards between them. it seems kind of depressing, if you think about it.

danny is the first to wave at the camera, an amused smile on his lips. )

Well, this has been interesting, but I thing we need to change things up a bit.

( han looks at the camera and back at Danny, a wry expression on his face. )

We could be playing sabaac, but there isn't much to work with.

( but, han's a gambling man, even as he cuts the cards and deals between the two of them.)

These names are terrible for card suits, by the way.

( funny how danny knows what a sabaac is. fucking star wars comics, man, and fuck han solo for actually existing. )

I don't know, I think they're kind of appropriate. I mean - this is a heart, isn't it?

( he shows one of the cards in his hands - a three of hearts - before throwing it away and replacing it with another from the remaining deck. you would think that he'd try to be quiet about the cards he's been holding, but he doesn't seem too bothered. )

Not enough people if it's just the two of us.

( as if han has a clue. he deals it out, holding up the jack of spades: )

What the hell is a "Jack" supposed to be?

( and he sort of has a point. he throws it in, calling a bluff or something or the other, or maybe han just doesn't know what he's doing. it's hard to tell.)

I'd say we hold a poker night. Then they'd say that they're poker champions and that poker has no place on this ship. Or that poker ruins friendships and that we should be making friendships with cards.

( he might be projecting some bitterness. maybe.)

( danny just blinks at the jack of spades lost in the pile. man, what a waste. )

From what I remember? Someone just went and called it that for no reason. It's supposed to be 'Knave', but they confuse it with the 'King'. I could be wrong, though.

( he shrugs. people are dumb. )

Maybe if you ask nicely, they'll stop by. Maybe they'll even show you what they've got.

( the camera gets a shot of his nice smile from that. is he conning you? he's conning you. though, to be fair, he's more like challenging the audience to prove han wrong and prove him right. )

( don't pull that move on him, he invented that mood. han throws his cards down, face down. )

Oh, please join us for poker night. We'd love to have you. In fact, bring friends, bring beer and bring something we can play you under the table for.

( that was supposed to be sarcasm. but there is one thing that sarcasm cannot hide:)

We're at the bar, come find us. If you bring a Jedi, we'll take your money and then throw you out. If you are Jedi, you're not invited.

( and they're out. )


( OOC: there will be log for this. soon. hold the phone. THERE'S A LOG. )

[the feed turns on and chuck is briefly out of frame for a moment as the view focuses on a collection of cup pies sitting on the kitchen counter in a variety of flavors before it turns back to her]

Been a while since I made these but they look good, right? [she just smiles, looking fairly chipper as she continues talking] They're cup pies. Single serving of pie with a honey baked crust.

I have been working with the bees on the upper floors of the oxygen gardens for the last several jumps but just yesterday I was able to harvest most of their honey so I thought I'd put it to some good use.

Though between both these cup pies and the honey, I have quite a lot here actually so if anyone is interested? Just let me know or you can meet me in the kitchens on the fifth floor.

[ Peter's not exactly thrilled to be appearing on film, like handing over his location to the FBI with bells on, and he's not out to try too hard to pretend that he is. But he's taken part in his fair share of interrogations (on both sides) and he can seat himself in front of a camera and look serious.... and entirely well-intentioned, hopefully. ]

I don't do bored. I've never actually done bored very well, but before all of you jump on me and say I should give it a week and there'll be something for me to do- [ he holds up a hand; talk to it. ] I'll save you the time. I believe you.

Absolute chaos and destruction - combined with space's every attempt at a science experiment - should definitely give people something to do. [ Peter talks almost entirely with his hands, gesturing unconsciously all about. ] Not sure i'd expect anything less, but hey, not judging anyone if they choose to keep out of the fray, either. But the rest of the time, in-between one horror movie plot and the next, i'm not capable of sitting around and acting like this is the next best thing to a vacation without the benefits of getting to relax. Even though I can find my fair share of things to do, they won't be accomplishing anything. And at the end of the day there's only so many card tricks I can practice.

[ yes, okay, he's getting on with it. ]

I know there's departments, and I know what most of them are for. [ ... he pauses for a second and then shakes his head. ] Okay, I probably don't know everything they do, and I want to change that. I want to know more. Not sure I know much about farming, i'll just fess up to that now, but what I really want to know, is which departments need the most help. What you're looking for, what I can do to make things easier. Holding down a job isn't exactly a specialty of mine either, but I still want to get involved as much as I just... [ tensing for a moment, he finally sighs. ] -I like a good challenge.

You want to know what I can do? Sure, fine. But i'm only showing you mine if you show me yours.

[ it's a rare thing when damon decides it's time to pick up his communicator and make a proper post to the network. typically these things are waaaay more...self-serving, especially for him of all people. but in the light of recent events there's an inkling of obligation that's been nagging at him.

he should know by now on this goddamn ship that maybe running into the arms of these not-so-standard impulses is not the way to go. pretty ironic considering the message he's trying to send here. ]

Hey, newbs and the rest of us who've been here way too long—I don't know what it is that makes you completely ignore advice, over a year of evidence, the most basic of human instincts like hey, maybe this is going to be a dumb idea. Either way you're failing miserably and I'm going to take it upon myself to reiterate this reminder:

Do not go wandering into the ship.

Really, I can't be clearer than that.

[ there's a pause on the audio feed, like damon's sudden thorough irritation is stopping him from saying the other important thing on his mind. the silence only lasts about ten second, and when he speaks again his voice is way less authoritative and way more solemn. ]

For anyone who knew him, Stefan Salvatore is gone. Home.

(  text | private | to elena 013 » 066  )

[Jim doesn't address the ship with a hello this time around, instead cutting to the chase, the only warning the somber look on his face and the fact that he's sitting down. he isn't at a desk and there's a dirty scuff mark on his jaw, so it's clear that wherever he's making this broadcast from, it's in the middle of repairs on the ship.]

What happened with the pirates was a tragedy. [a beat] In my own universe, if we could we'd send the deceased back to their home planet for their relatives to handle. Barring that, we would opt for a space burial by jettisoning the body into the stars, whether through coffin or cremation.

[it's a little romantic, especially for Jim, but while he might not personally be very spiritual or religious, he understands that there are many who can't stand the dead being spoken of as just another body to get rid of. he, himself, still sees the dead as people— individuals he couldn't save. the dead deserved respect, because once upon a time, they'd been living and breathing and thinking.]

I know the final say will fall to medical, as it's their facilities that will need to be used in either case— [and he nods, an acknowledgement to the medical staff on board] — but I believe a funeral service should be held and would be good for all of us. A loss of life this huge can effect people in ways we might not initially expect, and we've had losses of our own number that deserve a proper goodbye.

[he's speaking of literal losses, yes, but he's also speaking of the figurative. a loss of innocence was just as tragic as the loss of a life. Kurt's post, speaking of the girl at the end of the play, came to mind, and the loss of Gingersnap was a startling blow for anyone who knew Tyke and her dogs.]

There's an outdoor chapel in the oxygen gardens, should anyone want to make use of it, or should anyone elect to hold an official service. Enterprise, we'll be meeting at Chase's apple tree on the second level at 18:00 hours. Anyone else wishing to attend is more than welcome.

I realize we have our work cut out for us with the jump only a few days away, but we need to remember to take care of ourselves and our own. We're all we've got up here, whether we like it or not. Taking a half hour of one day won't hurt.

Kirk out.

(welcome to the shuttle bay with han and obi-wan. excuse the fact that there's a shuttle that han's stripped and that obi-wan generally looks like he has a bad feeling about all of this.)

I think if you follow the guidelines set by the Security Team, you should be safe. Stay in groups. Don't engage.

(there's a beep and a long protest as Arfour says something, but she's not in view. that's when han just takes off his goggles off to actually prove obi-wan wrong.)

No, this is what you do. If you see a pirate? Shoot them. (wait, this is a jedi he's talking to.) Or use the Force, you know what you do.

(obi-wan looks irritated for a moment, but he'll take this moment to roll his eyes and cross his arms)

If you don't have training, don't engage.

If you don't have training, get someone else to shoot them. If they talk to you, shoot them. If they even look at you, shoot them. If they ask you how you're doing, shoot them. If they're dying outside your room, watch them die and then shoot them to make sure they don't get up.

(han's getting a little serious about this.)

I'm going back to work.

(aaaaaand Obi-Wan walks a little away, Arfour beeping after him, but she's still not visible on screen)

Don't touch anything, I'm redoing the - (han was running after him before running back to turn off the communicator.)

[The feed crackles on to show a man leaning in close to the camera over some kind of console. Everything about him seems dry and harsh, from the lines of his features to the colour of his eyes, like too much sun and dust has sapped all the softness out of him. And his voice — when he finally speaks after a long moment of simply looking silently at the camera — is a light, husky tone, rough-edged.]

Tranquility. [A pause.] I am Felix Laurens, I am captain of the Scylla. My crew and I are boarding this vessel. We will take what we want from it, and then we will leave.

[A very long pause, where he seems to be considering something, looking at the camera silently.]

Keep out of our way and you won't be harmed.

[And with that, he's done with the message. He turns and walks away from the camera, revealing a view of the room behind him — though much smaller and less well-kept, it's a clear match to the shuttle bay. Part of a blonde head ducks into view after Laurens finishes speaking, clearly trying to find the 'off' switch for the console.]

Did he just—every time. Every fucking time.

[That remark garners him a bony elbow to the ribs, sneaking in from just out of sight to jab hard at his exposed side, voice quiet but still impatient.] Shut up. [Extending her arm out a little more to jab at the console, Hayes severs the transmission.]

Last time I was this ruttin’ drunk, Mal got married to a-- a-- [ there are some words there that sound vaguely like butchered Mandarin; it’s a futuristic dialect, but the man speaking it is also so drunk that it sounds like the communicator can’t quite translate it. ] An’ I passed out.

But he did later, ‘cause he kissed ‘er on the mouth.

[ The device suddenly turns over, Jayne staring down at it. From the look of him and the several empty bottles sitting next to him -- on the floor -- he’s been drinking for a while. Reaching for another bottle of something that looks extraordinarily cheap, he takes a swig, then sighs. ]

I miss my guns.

I have never been here before. I have no idea who any of you are right now.

Sorry

-Chell

[Private Text: Wheatley]

Not falling for your tricks again. Will punch you again if you try anything.

[Simon's not exactly used to filming himself, but the video is still perfectly centered when he begins. He sits down, briefly returning to that old habit of making sure that his bangs are swept perfectly to one side before he starts to speak.]

[His orange jumpsuit hangs in the background. He’s wearing the generic ship one because it's cool. ...If you're Simon, it's cool.]

I've been aboard this spaceship for two days now. So far I've heard a lot of what to do and what not to do. But can anyone tell me why I was chosen?

[Simon glances about nervously, but his eyes are glossy with excitement when he looks back.]

I'd also like to know if there are any extraterrestrials on board. Like in Star Voyage 13.

[Yeah, he has the box set of 1 through 12 too.]

I-I mean you no harm, I've just always wanted to meet one.

I hope you're all well rested after that little experience. Caffeine is good for the post-jump blues, so if any of you missed my black coffee and a sit down in the jump bay, I'd recommend you get on that now. And for those of you who are a little more delicate, I'll reassure you--the jitters are a lot easier to deal with than the alternative.

My name is Nathan Petrelli; I was Senator for the state of New York. Here, I manage the Communications Department. If you have any skills with computers, managing databases and information, or no skills at all, and want to learn how to use the computers here in exchange for a nine-to-five, you can show up to our office on 001 and I'll give you the tour. Just look for the door with Communications stenciled on the outside. We're understaffed presently, and I'd be grateful for any help we can get. Just sign up, we'll find a place for you, and if things don't work out you can move elsewhere with my personal recommendation.

We'll be resuming classes Tuesday and Thursday afternoons tentatively. That's day 2 - tomorrow, and day 4, students will get a schedule. We do everything from learning about the ship and how to use the holodecks and communicators to learning to cook, sew and for the older students, fire guns, etc. Two afternoons, that's all I can offer, but the youngsters on board are usually welcomed into the various departments and mentored by experienced adults in the fields of science, flight, medicine; whatever you want. I can put you in contact with the right people if you have something specific in mind. If you're a teacher--well, it should be obvious that I could do with the help. Two afternoons isn't much at all.

I'm also responsible for the outside chapel in the Oxygen Gardens, open for members of every faith without restriction. A memorial wall there lists the names of people who have been and gone, and a book is open for anyone to leave a message. In the case of an emergency, the Oxygen Gardens is the safest place on the ship. A base of operations will usually be set up down there. If things go awry, it's a good place to be. We have a Sunday service every seventh day. Today is day one, if you're wondering.

What else is there...? Listen attentively to the information you read, stay in the common, well lit areas of the ship, don't eat anything that smells as bad as it looks. Try not to go space crazy. Shuttle bay has the only window you can see out of, if you're desperate to see it for yourself. Take care of your fellow passengers, and keep on Tyke's good side.

I'm done talking for now, but you're welcome to ask any questions you might have, for instance 'When do I get to go home?' That's always a good one.



( Filtered to Tyke; comms encryption )

[Seems like just yesterday that you were seeing this guy's face on the network. Maybe because you did, except this isn't the prince who was offering sword fighting lessons. Far from it on so many accounts.]

I'm afraid I'm worthless for sword training or fight club, but I'm still willing to spill a few drops of blood.

[Which sounds a little strange coming from a guy who goes out of his way to be about as threatening as a golden retriever pup.]

Body art - tattooing, specifically. I've done a few people on the ship, and wouldn't mind doing a few more if it's the sort of thing that interests you. My colours are limited, but that's about all that really is. Everything else is safe and sanitary.

[Because even on a ship of rats and monsters, hepatitis is a thing. Noah pauses, a slight grimace before he continues.]

If you're not eighteen, I'd suggest you wait until you are. Or at least lie to me, you might just win me over. Especially if there's a few hundred years or miles between me and your parents.

[ From the doom and gloom of everyone's existence around here, rolls a voice that's... well okay, not very doom and gloom-y but give him a second. He'll get there. ]

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
[ aaaand... a moment of silence. or appreciation. or both. both is good. whichever you'd prefer, because moz just needs a moment to enjoy. or quite possibly brag about this font of information in his brain. now, let's continue. ]

I'm just curious -- no one's actually shot an albatross around here, right? For fun or sport or just to see what might happen if you did, because i'm starting to hope that one of you showed up with some dice. Just, y'know, in case. And by 'in case' I mean every single day. Because those dice might just come in handy when any other frightful friends show up, and that's when i'll be there to remind you.

[ sigh, can you hear him shaking his head? ] I've begun to realize that you'll never run out of stories to tell because of this place, you'll only run out willing ears. The considerable lack of people - [ to use as underground sources ] - to play a game of parcheesi with is starting to become more of a disappointment than I ever thought it could be. What am I supposed to do with my sunday nights now? And if one of you tries to tell me to pick up Go Fish, i'll have you know that I'm only willing to sink so low.

And i've already sunk to the levels of bottom of the barrel three dollar cabernet, which is like licking the floor of a subway tunnel. [ .... er. ] Not that i've ever done that before.

[ well..... ] I might have paid someone else to do it.

But that's not the point. There's only so much boredom one man can stand. Only so many times you can play three-card-monte with yourself before you start getting it on the money. And the payout on that's not so big, if you catch my drift.

[After a moment's fiddling where muted swearing can be heard but precious little seen the feed flicks on to display one terribly bored looking tanned elf. Between the set of his jaw and the twist of his lips the displeasure he's been feeling for the last however long is quite visible, though he does his best to put on a charming smile for the ship.]

I know when we arrive on this very fine vessel we are given, without our consent, a mark for purposes in keeping tally of who is on the ship, translation, so on and so forth. And while it is a nicely done tattoo it is not precisely to my taste, mm?

[He turns his cheek to the camera, tracing a line up the black curves marked up from jaw to temple.]

These now, I like a great deal more and it makes me wonder if there is anyone else that would rather regain just a little bit of themselves by choosing a tattoo of their own design and placement to make up for what was graciously given without asking. I've skill and experience in the art and would be willing to lend my services to anyone interested.

My supplies at the moment are somewhat limited but depending upon what you would like done I am certain we could come to some sort of arrangement.

[Please. Someone. Anyone. It'll be something to do, some sort of project, something to focus on and while his expression is not quite pleading it is eager for some manner conversation centered around something he can understand for once.]

Well, hey there folks.

[The Mayor sits in his room, smiling cheerfully down at his communicator. He's a nice-looking man with a friendly voice and a kindly demeanor.]

Wow - what an adventure, huh? [He raises a hand to forestall arguments.] Now, before anyone gets mad at me, I'm not saying, "Gee, it's great to be here." I've got plenty to get back to - heck, I'm the mayor of the greatest city there is, and I don't want it to have to get along without me! But that doesn't make this anything less than an adventure, and I say even if we're mad or sad or something we still make the best of it.

So let's start out with introductions! "We all already know each other," you're probably all groaning, and I say to that, settle down, let me catch up a little. I'm Mayor Richard Wilkins of Sunnydale. And I'm really glad to meet each and every one of you, and I'm looking forward to having more adventures with you all!

And now it's your turn. Be nice to me, and step forward and tell me your name and what you do here.