[Haymitch is drunk, which is not really that surprising, but normally he keeps that shit private and doesn't really bother getting on the network much- drunk or sober. He doesn't trust it.

But he's hit that point where he's stopped caring.]

Thing about the Games [he says this like this isn't a Game- whatever, most people know he thinks that and the rest can draw their own conclusions] is they have to keep it interesting. It's not enough to just kill each other. Most won't- they'll try to stick it out as long as they can. To try and cheat the system or because they fight better in packs. [he sniffs] So the Capitol created the mutts. Sent these genetically engineered beasts to start ripping people apart to make sure the audience was entertained.

We've got mutts here. [obviously.] Those things in the labs. And elsewhere now.

[Haymitch doesn't normally talk to this much and he's just drunk enough to be babbling like a crazy person, but when he speaks next, it's with near perfect clarity.] One of the last games, we thought they were using the dead tributes to make mutts. Got me thinking about how there are a lot of unaccounted for people who used to be on this ship. Probably killed, but then there's those prisoners in the cell blocks we just found.

[There's a pause as he recalls some of the phrases he's heard bandied about from the stuff they found down there.] Scientists were taking numbers- that's what they were calling them. Makes you wonder what they were doing with them.
16 August 2013 @ 10:10 am
No. No, no, no.

[ the video is sideways, giving a slanted view of river nearby on the floor of her room. there are scraps of paper all over the floor; colourful, bright. childish drawings torn apart.

she wraps around her knees, hands covering her head. river hasn't slept in three years and this week alone, she slept for three days. three days of silence, three days of bliss. she wanted the dreams and they came to her. it was so easy to let go, wasn't it? ]

Wake up. Please wake up. They can't - they tell you to lay down and you do. You stay because they said it, it's in you and -

[ she shakes her head, rocks back and forth, muttering 'oh God, no' under her breath. she told derek. told and tried to stay awake, but sometimes she just gets so tired of holding on. the sun goes dark and chaos is come again. ]

They don't get up again. The skeletons stay and they don't lie down. It's the Pa - no - it's her. It's in the air and it won't stop. It wants to keep you, it wants to keep you, she wants you and you're hers.

[ she screams 'please wake up' one last time just as she grabs her device and throws it as far away from her as she can.

not very far. there's nowhere to run. ]
We haven't had a jump that exciting in months. Smiley, a puddle of someone outside the medbay and a jump that felt a little different than normal. Almost makes me think that was just the start. I know, Tony, don't do the thing where you ruin the calm, but seriously, we're overdue for it. Personally, I vote for no pirates this time, but that may just be me and the residual annoyance of them.

[ this is so not actually what tony meant to open up with, but it's meant to sort of break the ice a little bit before he moves onto the important question. not to mention, maybe even pressing the issue of feeling weird after the jump was partially important to him. but details.]

Speaking of exciting jumps though. We all know that sometimes you get weird things from home and the like from the lockers on occasion. If you haven't, sucks to be you. [ a beat where tony takes a moment to take a drink of something. ] Show of hands, how many people got something that didn't look like it was from home, or seemed to just hop right over the bad line and into the territory of unpleasantness that may or may of not prompted you to scream what the fuck? Or whatever profanity you're fond of.

Don't be shy, I'll admit it, I found a shin bone in my locker and since I don't moonlight as a surgeon that cuts off limbs, that definitely shouldn't have been there. So, spill, satisfy my curiosity about this.
09 August 2013 @ 10:57 am
[Godric is sitting, slumped casually in a chair in one of the common areas when he turns on the video feed. When he speaks, his tone is soft but clear, and he remains thoughtful as he speaks unhurriedly. This isn't a speech he's had planned out, but he knows what he wants to say.]

With every jump, we receive a variety of new passengers from a variety of different worlds. To some, this ship is not so dissimilar to what they are accustomed to. To others, it is the most foreign thing they have ever known. The worlds we come from vary like grains of sand, and although the welcome guide offers a rudimentary introduction into the unknown, and an invaluable insight into what has already come to pass here, it can only do so much to ease the culture shock.

As our worlds are different, so too are there differences in the types of people we are accustomed to, and how we react to those people. Some of you have vampires in your world, or werewolves, or shapeshifters. For others of you, these are merely fictional stories. But this ship acts as a nexus, and the first thing that any of us must understand is that all things are possible here, and not all things are as you might expect them.

I am a vampire, and not the only one aboard this ship. There are a few of us, but we are as varied as our worlds. Where some of us may have no reflection or cannot be recorded, for example, [he smiles here, the humor obvious] my kind certainly can. We have different cultures and different sleeping habits, and indeed, different eating habits, which is the thing that naturally concerns most newcomers.

While all vampires feed on human blood -- the sole thing we all have in common -- it can affect us differently according to our natures. Some of us, it seems, choose to refrain entirely from its consumption and come to no harm for it. Some of us can eat food and survive on that alone, the same as any human. And for those of us for whom this is not an option, there are synthetic options provided by medical, as well as many kind and generous people aboard who have willingly donated their blood so that we will not starve.

I tell you all this to reassure anyone who has recently come aboard, and found themselves alarmed by our presence. While I cannot vouch for all of us any more than a single human can vouch for all his species, I can say that most of us mean no harm, and wish only to live as peacefully as we can here. I tell you this also so that any vampire new to this ship can understand we are not in hiding, and that aggression is not welcome. And while I cannot speak for any other supernatural species aboard, I hope you will all understand that you have friends here.

[He leaves off there, but leaves the feed open for questions.]
[ there's a part of lydia that wonders if this is stupid. if that after her last foray ( god, why did so many people care about her problem with peter ) with anonymous text and her problems and the network that maybe this was uncalled for, maybe she should just come clean and be herself and ask everyone if they were having problems like this. except, this is just as damning, isn't it? little miss lydia martin thinks killing peter hale will solve all her problems just like she thought doing what he wanted would solve them and yet, here she was, still sleep walking, still with nightmares and still— finding her mind in pieces she didn't know were still broken. ( they shouldn't have been why were they. ) she just wants to be normal again, she just wants to feel normal again. not like whatever this is. ]

When you get gangrene the treatment is to cut off the portion effected in order to try and save the rest of the tissue. Sometimes you have to amputate things, but that's not always what happens. You think that cutting it away is supposed to help. And it does sometimes. Other times you die anyway despite the efforts and it's bullshit.

That's morbid and— I shouldn't have started off with that. Whatever, you think something will make everything right again and then surprise the joke's on you, you still feel like a mess and it's— that's still not the point and is maudlin in ways that I don't do. I'm not even that intoxicated to justify it.

Original point of this, so you don't start laughing at the anonymous freak who can't shut up and get to the point. Has anyone been having sleeping related problems? I don't mean nightmares, because of course you're going to have nightmares here unless you're some person who thinks this is a walk in the park. But, sure, tell me about you special ones that aren't just consequences of the ship. What I mean is sleep walking. Waking up in places you don't remember falling asleep in. And I guess maybe another aspect of that is— have you had black out moments here. Where you're in one place, and then in another but you don't know how you got there. And if someone were to ask you, you couldn't answer what happened. You just were in one place and then suddenly you were in another and you don't remember even walking or running or whatever there.

God, I sound like a crazy person asking this. This is why I did this anonymously. No one wants to talk to a person after they sound crazy like this and I like talking to people for the most part. I don't feel like being shunned like that.
[ The video clicks on to show Carolyn in the shuttle bay (of course), standing in front of one of the windows showing the vast expanse of space. After letting the camera roll for a moment so that you, dear viewer, can come to terms with what you're looking at, she focuses it on her face and starts to speak. ]

This is overdue, but we're going to be having another information session on space, space travel, and the features we're aware of on board the Tranquility in a few hours. Make the time to attend. For those of you who want to get caught up on the previous lessons, I'll include a link to the recordings.

We're going to be going over everything, including evacuation protocols, but I'm going to be paying special attention to what I know about stasis. [ Which admittedly isn't much, as they use cryosleep, but it's more than most of the ship. ] It's been a popular topic lately, after all.

[ There's some fiddling with the buttons and after a pause, viewers will have a link to a sub-network with the videos embedded. ]

If any of you newcomers are interested in joining the flight crew, whether you have experience or not, we'd be glad to have you. Come on down and talk to myself, Hikaru Sulu, or John Casey.

[ Carolyn pauses, shifting a little uncomfortably. ]

For those of you that knew her, Kara Thrace has gone home.

[ Aaand: ]

The kittens are ready, if those who talked to me are still interested.
24 June 2013 @ 09:02 am
[ for optimal viewing pleasure, please see the following and allow to run in the background as you enjoy this recording. though the only thing currently in the feed is an angled shot of the treetops in the gardens, this is not an accidental video. there's rustling in the background, like something's moving fast through the leaves coming closer, and it is moving.

a couple seconds later, myfanwy comes flying overhead, a small black shape on her back. it might not be terribly difficult to discern what it is, but don't worry if you miss it, because the pteranodon makes a screech and a sharp turn, sending the shape tumbling off her back towards the device.

river rolls over the feed when she hits the ground, dressed in her tq crew uniform with the legs cut into shorts, hair tied up in a messy bun and hands covered with fingerless black gloves that hardly fit her at all. sky-diving experts or anyone with military training might notice her roll is perfectly controlled to minimise damage, and when she comes back into view, her eyes are wide with adrenaline but she doesn't seem particularly bothered by her fall. ]

Test five. Flight successful. Notes: need to meet higher altitude, consider construction of a harness; ask permission first. No hard turns.

[ she looks away for a second and blinks. ]

I skinned my knees.

[ oops? that's all she says before cutting off the feed. a second later, she attaches a text message. ]

  • driving goggles ( 1 )
  • cowboy hat ( 2 )
  • chocolate ( dark pref. )
  • colors ( blue unnecessary )
  • tour guide
accepting applications for the last. list name, ident, and qualifications below. willing to trade goods and services.

[ namely: simon's services and stolen goods. double oops? river's permission post is, as always, right yonder with all the necessary warnings and what have you! ]
17 June 2013 @ 02:47 pm
[ the feed opens on uhura’s hands as she picks up a piece of black paper. there’s an indistinct noise, and the feed goes shaky, right before sulu puts down the comm, balances it in front of them. ]

There. Fold it like that, with a sharp crease. Like I showed you.

[ not that sulu’s tutelage is all that effective, considering how hard he’s working to keep the situation with his hands on the downlow. ]

I tried that, and last time I ripped the paper. [It’s flat, and would almost be self-deprecating, if she weren’t so amused. For someone as detail oriented as Uhura, the idea that something that sounds as simple as origami, would be outside of her ability to comprehend is almost laughable]

Like this? [She folds one corner in, slower- to make sure the alignment is right, and runs the nail carefully along the crease]

Yes. Just like that. [ sulu taps her wrist with two fingers, in encouragement, before picking up the ripped sheet and flattening it out along the table. his eyes flick up to the camera, then back to uhura. ] We need to try for a thousand. I have enough paper for that.

[The encouragement gains him a soft smile in answer, a brief flicker of her eyes in his direction, before she makes the next fold as carefully as she can manage] Why a thousand?

Because if we manage a thousand something good will happen. [ sulu doesn’t say miracle and he doesn’t say good health or good luck but it’s what he means. he presses a palm against the ripped sheet of paper, covering it before addressing the comm. ] And if anyone else wants to learn, we’ll be happy to teach you. [ since sulu assumes uhura’s going to pick this up in a matter of hours. it’s just how starfleet kids roll. ] We’re in the common room on the sixth floor.

( ooc: the red font is nyota uhura! )
13 June 2013 @ 11:26 pm
[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.
[ joe's not so much ill at ease on camera as he is just happier off, and the lack of desire to throw his metaphorical hat in to this particular ring bleeds through into his slumped posture. he's got his actual hat off and set to the side, because this calls for company manners which means your nicest flannel and no hat, as you do. ]

Name's Joe Davis, based outta Pernambuco. [ a beat. ] That's just about on the far edge of the farms on Pasiphae, right. [ since as it's been made abundantly clear, he's the only one who knows that sort of thing off-hand. ]

Nobody's wanted to tell me too much, but I get the sense something about this whole thing makes me look dangerous. And I understand that, and whatever questions you gotta ask I'm ready to answer them. [ in part because there's only one of him and a lot of everybody else and it's the smart call, but that can go unsaid. ] I guess I just wanted to say this is all new and confusing to me, too, and seeing as I'd rather not end up pistol whipped, if it's all the same to everybody-- [ yeah, dean, he saw that-- ] I figured maybe I'd make the first move, since it's seeming like maybe I've landed in a tight spot without meaning to here.

[ he looks down, rubbing at the back of his neck with a thumb, a little uncomfortable. ]

I'm not much for speeches, but it seemed like the thing to do-- think that's about it, anyway.

[ and with that, he's out. ]
[ There is white and red and black, bone and blood and rotting flesh, when the camera first blinks on. Some fiddling, dirty fingers tapping at the lens then pulling it back reveals that the rot is not a human passenger but bovine; the cow that has been on board since Strela, effectively smashed by the jump by all appearance, but rotted already -- rotted for months, by the look of it. (For a year, its owner will tell you, and forensic analysis will back up her story.)

More fiddling, those filthy fingers and long strands of dirty golden-blonde hair (falling, from the looks of things, coming out in chunks and joining the cow on the floor of the ship) covering the lens until Jaye can look into the screen properly. Once again, she looks like a mess. It's worse, this time. Worse physically and mentally, and it's easy to tell by how she interacts with the camera, slides her thumb up over the lens and bobs her head like a bird. It's almost like she can't quite remember what she's supposed to do. ]

I heard voices, [ she starts, voice a hoarse, scratchy mess. Unlike last time she doesn't try to save it, pushes on as if she's talking to herself and her dead cow and not anyone who's listening. ] Are you back? It's been so long. I didn't mean to leave -- I couldn't get there. I was so close and just like him, just couldn't get there. The halls just kept going and then the ship screamed and I had to change before I did, too.

[ She shifts onto her haunches, rocking back and forth, not looking at the camera -- looking around instead, taking in how things look with eyes that aren't the compound eyes of an insect. One hand moves up to move some hair behind an ear and the hair simply falls down in strands, leaving a patch of bare scalp behind on her head. ] It was red again. Red and angry, so angry, the whole time. I didn't mean to do it this time, I didn't -- but I figured it out. They're the same, aren't they? Exactly the same. Trickster and hero and villain all at once. "Fear not, I will help you."

[ There's a laugh, then a sob, then both at once. ]

Don't be mad. A year isn't forty. Just-Like-Creator took the flesh and threw it over the land, and there grew the tribes of men.

[ One hand reaches for the skull of the cow, for the rot covering it, and draws. :) ]

((ooc: Explanation over here!))
At the risk of ensnaring the ire of those of you who would rather live in what is best defined a bubble of willful ignorance— but has anyone noticed that it's been rather quiet in the time since our friendly pirates were murdered?

I'm not complaining, of course, because I do enjoy calm as much as the next person who's relatively sane but it's not as if we have much control with what happens on the ship. And I'd hate to discover that maintaining a normalcy bias— the willful ignorance I mentioned— manages to lull us into a false sense of security.

Then again, perhaps I'm just being pessimistic and that we're just enjoying a break we all needed and I'm just making you, my fellow victims of circumstance needlessly worry due to my own unrest. Still, I am curious as to whether or not I'm the only one who's considered this.
20 May 2013 @ 10:46 pm
[ the camera turns on to show gwen holding a sword that is sheathed, the handle basic yet beautifully crafted, well made.] The events as of late have made it clear that we may need to defend ourselves from those we do not know. Enemies outside of our ship and... well, erm, perhaps the monsters that lay within. [ space rats.]

[ she pulls the blade from it's sheath to show her work, smiling softly as she lays it down and addresses the camera once more.]

I would like to offer my services to those who are in need of a sword. My father was a blacksmith and taught me his trade- [ cue a sadder sort of smile.] I can also make smaller blades. I only ask that you use them to defend yourselves and not on one another. We must work together to protect our temporary home. I share a forge with Fili and Kili, who are also master craftsmen.

[ awkward pause.]

Thank you. For your time.
[Takeshi has had a lot on his mind, lately. Some days, he wants to run to his most precious people and hug them and tell them how much he loves them--some days, he wants to call them names only good little boys call the people who raise them do. But then there are some days where he gets scared: his dad at home loves him, takes care of him, supports him. He says Takeshi is his kid. Takeshi believes him. But now he's in space with these new... he wants to call them parents. They feel like parents--the good kind, he thinks, anyway. He's mostly just used to the kind that let him down. 

Do they like him back? Like a son? Do they even want a son? Is he being bad, having so many people he wants like this? What if--they go away, when he tells them all this? He's scared of being alone again. He doesn't want them to go away. So... he asks Reaper for a favor, and once the message is encrypted good and proper, he asks the community a few things.

Grown ups tend to know things like this, right...?]


I... There's one, two [he counts them off just in case y'all need that visual] people I like a lot on the ship that... I mean, I like everybody, but these two are special! Heder and Mr. Ned--he works in the garden--they take good care of me and give me food and give me baths and they're nice to me, 'cept when I'm doing things that aren't good to do. But that's 'cuz they protect me! They're not my real mom and dad--but should I... if--should I call them that? Will they still like me if I do? I don't want them to think I'm being bad. I want them to keep being like my parents... I wanna call them that...

What if they don't like me no more?

'Cuz before, I didn't have good parents. And then I found my new dad at home--he's the best and strongest!

Will he be mad if I had more than, than--just him as a papa? Will he be mad if I had more? Can I have two dads and a mom, even if I had real parents before?

[This is all just so confusing. He's not sure what to do. He re-counts off on his fingers, adding the other 'parents' in his life, frowning. There's his dead dad and his mom-who-didn't-like-him and her mean boyfriend--but he doesn't count, right? And then there's Kaze and now...]

I think I have too many moms and dads... I think that's okay... I don't know. What do you think? What should I do...?


I just don't want them to leave if I say.
19 April 2013 @ 02:43 pm
[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.]
11 April 2013 @ 02:14 pm
[Marty has retrieved his things from the locker; themos-bong, I've missed you so much. So, so much. He has it in his lap and sets it aside, plenty done with it for a good while. It's given him clarity; time to reflect on his life, on his future, on an evil ship doomed to ruin him as much as everything else has.

Okay, so he actually just came into his room, curled up, and cried for a little bit. And then smoked more. It's his depression solution.

But he's good now. He's cross-legged on his bed, looking as though he's been pondering considerably on the state of the Marty. Only whatever redness to his eyes can be contributed to his bong, if anyone questions it--he's too busy focusing on the now, instead of the then. It'll do him no good to let it drag him down; he can keep having all this doubt and survivor's guilt, but he can't let it crush him--because it wouldn't be fair to the others, when they never got the chance to come back.

No, he can figure it all out. He can think long and hard and maybe he can help these people where he couldn't help his own.]

Have you ever wondered if this place is your world's future? I know that's really morbid thinking and all, but this has to be in somebody's future--doesn't it? Maybe something crazy happened, people had nowhere to go, so they ran off to space. It's not like it's the craziest idea out there; we had--whole movies dedicated to stuff like this. Syfy originals. Books. Hell, I think I heard a radio story from ye olden days about it.

[He waves a finger at the air, looking off distantly.]

... I just can't figure out where everything went crazy aboard the ship--maybe there's some... entity. Like a spirit, or a god. Maybe it's getting its sick thrills off making us dance around like little lab rats. Or maybe it's whatever those hypothetical entities created. Maybe--maybe we're just being watched by something that brought us here just to see what we'll do. People say there's no reason we're here, or we haven't found one. But if I had to bet my piggy-bank back home on something... it'd be that. I'd guess it's also why it won't let anyone go out too far from home plate. Or why there are people who aren't people anymore.

Whatever we do, we gotta stick together. Or else... things'll just go from worse to worser. We gotta hang in there. Fuck Smiley and the monsters and the lack of wonderful snack foods--we gotta... just stick together...

[He's rambling now, whoops. Sighing at the sir, he reaches over, grabs his bong and talks as he turns the top, condensing the whole thing down into a normal thermos mug. ILU, thermy.]

I'm gonna go try to invent new things in the kitchen. Anyone wanna go? This place needs way more comfort food, and I'm pretty competent at Macguyver-ing together something worthy of consumption. Might even be able to do it without setting the whole ship on fire, too.

[HA HA it was a joke

just a joke

and then he wanders off without shutting down the feed. Distantly, and growing fainter:]

Maybe I can manufacture some space strain of toaster strudels. 

[And true to his word, he'll be in the kitchens to see what awful abominations he can make wunderbar. He'll answer anything there, too, while he's at it and he remembers to retrieve his comm. Now... what does this place have in the way of sweet stuff? Surely lots of cans and cans and cans and oh look boxes. Feel free to actually find him there, casually drinking from said thermos.]
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.
11 April 2013 @ 11:49 am
So now that we've got ship kittens, it got me thinking about some things.

Anybody here have a family? Are they with you here? Or your best friend? Hell, even your pets. I'm kinda curious as to the state of things, especially right after the jump.

[Locked to Ult!Tony and Bela:]

I'm fine, just in case you were gonna ask.
10 April 2013 @ 08:17 pm
[ the video begins with finch perched somewhere in what looks like the bar, blond hair pulled back in a short tail. he lifts a hand in a brief wave, mouth quirking in a small, almost startlingly charming smile. (maybe not so startling if you already know what he is.) ]

Uh. Hey, Tranquility. Figured it was a good time to-- [ a pause, expression taking on a faintly sheepish note as he glances away, rubbing the back of his neck. welp. even if it's kind of necessary, it still feels strange, sometimes. ]

Well, anyway. Two things! [ he glances back at the feed, holding up his index and middle fingers, wiggling them. ] First thing's first, for those of you who're new this jump-- Hi. I'm Finch, and this is a personal ad. I'm the resident incubus, unless another one came with this crowd. Now what the hell does that mean for all of you, you ask. Well, I'm glad you're wondering, 'cause it means a couple of things.

[ he leans back a little, blowing a few strands of hair off his brow. ]

First of all, yeah, I really do fuck to eat. Which means that I'm always looking for people willing to go to bed with me once or twice a week. If you do volunteer, side effects are that I'm gonna' know exactly what you want in bed and how to give it to you, so if you're hiding shit, you may not be interested-- though who the fuck am I to judge what gets you off, right? Second-- you'll be pretty exhausted for a couple of hours afterward, but some sleep should fix that.

[ a shrug. ] So that's the first thing. The second, ah-- [ despite himself, he actually looks a little embarrassed at this. ] I was, uh, trying to go back to school before I was kidnapped, so. I dunno', if there are teachers or.. I just wanna' start studying again, you know? I also kinda' need a job. I was an assistant for a tattoo artist back home, but I pick shit up quick, so.. [ a vaguely uncomfortable glance, copper coloured eyes sliding away again. ] Let me know if you need some help with something, right? It's good for me to keep busy.