16 May 2015 @ 11:41 pm

after the jump our map began working again
only it showed just the science department (hullo SCI)
only it was slightly larger

took us a bit to realise cos SCI was slightly large to begin with
but once we did realse we went and had a look
one is some sort of lab
other has a void

[attached: a photograph of a set of doors, bent outward, as if something once tried to get them open from the inside, and then someone magically forced them open a bit more so as to peer into the darkness beyond. the darkness is visible from between the doors.]

endless pit of darkness
looks uninteresting but is actually interesting
we have thrown a great deal of things into it

so there you are
dont say this ship never gave you anything

[ic announcement of new locations! feel free to crash the log and explore. nanite storage & research room + "LAB E"]
28 April 2015 @ 02:20 pm
[ Home vs. the Tranquility is an obvious choice for most people. For the ones from somewhere particularly awful, the ship's the better option; and for some, there isn't much of an option at all.

Fitz had spent several months thinking he was part of the latter group. He'd thought home meant certain death, so he should appreciate cheating it while he had the chance. Since that had been proven wrong, home had resumed being the obvious choice, despite all its complications — but now Jemma's here, and things are somehow better than they'd been back at the Playground. Add to that a friendly research team offering help to the passengers of the TQ, and the end result is dwelling on questions he probably shouldn't be.

And a broad question for the network, minus much context.

Whenever the ship's docked somewhere, it's been too dangerous to stay. But if it wasn't, or if you could get off the ship without going home, would you? If it were possible to go somewhere safe. Different, and not home, but safe.
30 March 2015 @ 04:50 am

- deck of cards because someone fifty two pickup'd a couple of mine straight into the freakin air vent

- movie reccs, book reccs, show reccs, hit me

- if anyone has oldies of the motown variety you should hook me up. or just sing them to me, i'm not picky

- do we have meat?? of any kind?? i feel like i've been eating soy for actual years
instead of just one actual year


uhhhhh i inherited flavored lube if that's a thing you'd want

also men's jeans and a leather jacket and really douchey shades

i can basically make you look and taste like That Guy Who Is Full Of Himself But Everyone Wants To Bang Him Anyway if that's a thing you'd want

alternatively i'm kind of adorable and you'll have my undying gratitude and all that

TOTALLY UNRELATED those of you trying to call me to find someone, i am no longer responsible for keeping track of that someone. i'm just saying. cut that shit out
28 February 2015 @ 07:07 pm
Okay, so I'm pretty much ridiculously bored right now, and it's not like I can go anywhere because like 90% of the people who're even awake right now are doing shit in the departments, so.

I don't know. Tell me a joke. The worse the better. If I have to pretty much shun you for telling it, it means you win.
03 February 2015 @ 08:22 am
I know there's been a lot of weird shit going down lately, but all my brain keeps coming up with is how I'd kill for a cigarette.

Okay, "kill" might be an exaggeration. Kinda feel like I'm dying though. I don't know if I've gotten a reputation as a guy who'll take off his shirt and fight for shit or not, but that's something I'd do for a cigarette. Just light it up and put it between my lips if i get ko'd.

Basically, the point of this is if anyone finds a carton in their locker and wants to work out a deal or play for them or something, come see me. I used to be able to make a pack do me a month if I really stretched it. Now I bet I could make one last me the rest of my time on this thing. Everyone's got something like that, right?

Also, ramen. Shrimp or chicken. If you're gonna dream, dream big.

[Hey, for him, smokes and instant noodles are dreaming big.]
14 January 2015 @ 07:02 pm
Okay everyone, stop trying to figure out what the hell we do about all of these messages telling us what to do and instead answer this one very important question:

Ward, Resnik, Laurens. If you absolutely had to, who do you kill, who do you fuck, who do you believe is telling us even a tiny bit of the truth marry?*

*No, Johanna and people who think like Johanna, you cannot kill all of them. It has to be one of each. That's how the game works.
07 January 2015 @ 05:27 pm
Boy, that was a close one! That gas formation was a clever trick.

Hello there.

I know I've already spoken to some of you—I had hoped to do this individually—but it appears we need to move things along more quickly than we'd realized. That ship of yours seems eager to shake us, and we simply can't let that happen.

My name is Lina Barnez. The rest of the team and I have been working on contacting the Tranquility for some time. Unfortunately, our tech isn't perfectly compatible with what you're running on. It hasn't been easy, but we're managing. I don't know how long we'll have.

We're here to help you, but in order to do that, we'll need you to help us. You've been through a lot on this ship: it's a miracle so many of you are still with us. We'd like to make sure you stay that way, but we can only do that if you're completely honest with us.

We know about the events on Strela, the Cyllene and Arima, as well as the Scylla. What happened to those poor people was not your fault, and you have my word that we have no plans to hold you responsible for those events.

But we need to work together to make sure it doesn't happen again. The more you tell us about what's been going on aboard the Tranquility, the more we can do.

[ NOTE: All conversations will be cut off before too long by the engines suddenly powering back up, and the jump alarm sounding to alert characters to proceed to medbay immediately. ]
29 December 2014 @ 08:21 pm
My best mate disappeared. One Jump he was here, the next he was gone. They do memorial services over less. They play sad CDs and run video, put out photos, and everyone gets together for a meal and a cry and a few drinks. I haven't been to a funeral in years and years. I know it's not changed. Humanity doesn't change.

I don't know why I waited a month to say anything about him. I suppose it doesn't matter. Those memorials, and the wakes, and funerals, those are all for the people left behind. I know that and I'm still writing this. You want it to matter. You want them to matter.

I don't know if he's dead or not. And if he is, I don't know what happens to him next. There's no ghosts here, except the ones that have come in with the rest of us. I've been on this ship nearly two fucking years and I don't know any of it. And that's the worst of it. People talk about this ship like it's sentient. Like it's got some bloody personality, someone behind the wheel. We're always trying to figure out bits of it, like it's all somehow going to come clear. Like there's logic to it. There's no logic. It's like a wheel. It turns, and shit happens, and then it turns again, on and on and on. You can trust me on that. I've lived a long fucking time.

What I know is I'm tired of this. Being the last one left.

His name was George Sands. I wanted to put it down somewhere. It's stupid, but now it's done.
28 November 2014 @ 01:46 am
[Video clicks on, and lo, it is a pink faced young man, sitting in a nest of fabric in one of the empty cabins. He hasn't bothered to introduce himself on the network (he's used to just being known), and he's not personalized the cabin at all, just found an empty one and nested there.]

I have watched the winter festival celebrated each year, every year, for as long as I can recall. There is ceremony, there is song, and there is sacrifice. It is curious to me, that you celebrate the winter festivals here, although there is no snow or frost... [Curious, perhaps, but Shrieky looks quietly content, as though he finds this tradition more pleasing than strange.] ...I have seen the decorations, the feasting, and the seed of the gods hangs in the hallway. I have seen your ceremony and heard your song.

So, what do you intend to sacrifice?

[And now his agenda emerges, because in the early years, before monotheism began to take hold back in his home, a certain amount of respect was paid to certain geographical sites. Certain trees. Certain mounds. A certain river which fed into a certain moat... Meaning that sometimes when there was a sacrifice...]

What do you intend to sacrifice, and will I be getting any?
26 November 2014 @ 06:47 pm
so if you see something that looks like mistletoe growing in the corner of your doorway
or elsewhere

DONT APPROACH IT especially with company
GET AWAY FROM IT or else set it on fire
carefully on fire
ill be along to take care of it later


[as part of the aftermath of space christmas, there may be some vicious mistletoe hanging around in certain doorways. some of it bites, and some of it growls, and some of it pursues you until you kiss the person you ran into on your way into the kitchen. classic wizard mistletoe prank gone slightly awry but also it's still funny. mistletoe began concentrated mostly on level 5, but it's spread itself upwards and downwards. and into the SEC offices. and elsewhere. feel free to say that you have been assaulted or do some threads of being assaulted in this post/your inboxes/useful log created for this purpose.]
21 November 2014 @ 10:07 pm
attention people of the tranquility

since that whole violent whacktrip is totally over just in time, this is a reminder that

SPACE CHRISTMAS is absolutely still tomorrow!

summary: if you like someone, give them a gift. also decorate if you can! shiny stuff, esp. in green and red and silver and gold.

if you don't have any gift ideas, i refer you to the following: "give something you have, trade for something, make something, draw something, write something, do a chore for them, cook them a meal, punch someone they don't like, do a stupidly embarrassing dance for their personal entertainment without complaining"

also! 5th floor kitchen is gonna have a tiny christmas... thing idk. not enough food for a feast but i know there's rum and grog bc of a certain old-fashioned party person (you know who you are) and also whatever we can find in basically all of the fridges. which means you might want to come bc some of it's probably your food anyway :')

if you still don't know what christmas is, this is where i direct you to my lovely assistant RICH, official job description: "our space-christmas wtf-is-that guy"

also don't give edgeworth gifts or he's gonna bitch at me again :(
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)
27 October 2014 @ 02:59 pm
Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.

[Nick looks only mildly amused. He's actually had that happen, and it's not so fun, but someone's already said that they're working on it, so....]

There's way too much crappy art on board this thing, and not enough crappy artists showing themselves. I'm getting a little bored of chasing ghosts.

['Unnerved' would probably be a better word, not that he'll admit it.]

So if anyone's got a deck of cards or some dice, let's get something going. We don't even have to gamble, not unless you're willing to take a silver filling for payment.
Who cares if you die?

( feel free to interpret that however you please, denizens of the EXTREMELY POORLY NAMED tranquility! all possible interpretations are acceptable in harry's current state of complete emotional breakdown. he probably doesn't care if any of you die, for instance, and may bitterly resent you for having an actual answer to this question.

who cared when norman died? who really cared. people mourned the man who'd contributed so much, but that man was an idea. an image carefully cultivated. harry knew enough to know better, but even he wouldn't pretend to have known his father, and who's going to care when harry dies? just like norman did.

harry's legacy is just disappointment and isolation. his best friend is his only friend and he's pretty sure they're totally not friends any more, also. everything sucks and he broke a bottle when he got back to his room and he can't be bothered to clean it up, he's just going to sit here and hate all of you, publicly and violently, and

you know, by text, because he looks even shitter than usual. )
09 October 2014 @ 12:06 pm
[ Simon comes into view unsmiling and still, standing framed by one of the unadorned walls of his room. ]

Those of you who aren't human. Or are more than only human. If you lie low, or pass, or hide—why? [ He's quiet, with an Irish accent and a cadence that's steady verging on mumbly, and intently focused. He's not uncomfortable, not fidgety or uncertain, but he isn't quite at ease, either, in front of a camera. He's only using video to make a display of his bloodless face and white eyes. ] Has something happened to you here? Or is it a habit you've carried from home?

We may not be in the minority, altogether.

[ That's less threatening than we could outnumber them, right? Right.

That's also the end of what he'd planned to say ahead of time; he shifts back from the screen, looks aside, and nearly disconnects before more occurs to him. ]

If you want to talk and don't trust this to stay private, I'm in room two hundred on the third floor. You can... [ Leave a note, he almost said, but he's yet to see paper or pens. He raises his eyebrows like a shrug. ] Paint your answer on the wall.

Or knock. I'll be here.
16 September 2014 @ 10:00 pm
Morning, Tranquility. This is William Tsang. I'll be taking over as Chief Medical Officer down here in Medbay for the timebeing, in absence of 1) Peter Petrelli, may his time back in his homeworld be characterized by frequent adventure and beautiful companions irresistably drawn to his ample brown-eyed lust for both, and 2) a specified succession procedure. Hopefully with this change we will see an end to the last of our technological cockups for a bit.

I'm familiar with our equipment and our staff and our weird plagues. I will be referring out appropriately.

Recon Filter | or you're Seraphim Dias | 80% Encryption

Hey. Hello, recon. [William's face flickers into view, medbay in the background. The camera wobbles because he's putting the comm device down after thumb-typing fastidiously in what he felt would be the least time-consuming format for the PSA's audience. He looks normal/slightly hungover.] I'll keep it short.

I been hearing about symptoms experienced by some of us who we's went into the corridors under Commander Shepard. Unlike the syndrome we experienced this past cycle, no two set of symptoms seem alike. Some is emotional, others physical, or behavioral. The degree of impairment is likewise variable. For some of us, they seem to come in and out, possibly coinciding with stress or situational factors. I've yet to confirm everybody's suffering some shit, obviously-- but if you are, know you ain't alone.

If anybody's got a fix, I'm sure we'd all appreciate to know about it. If you'd like to discuss, I'll be in the medbay. I'd also like to run some tests, if you're amenable. No bonesaws, promise. Cheers. [His hand thumps the lens once before the disconnect.]
12 September 2014 @ 05:31 pm
hey it's sally

look, i just remembered something really bizarre that happened like a month ago that might totally have something to do with all of that nanite bullcrap, and i want to pass it off to someone who might actually have any idea what to do with it.

when you reply can you make it private or something? filtered or whatever - i just don't know how to do it in a way assholes can't hack, and i want to know who i'm actually telling this shit to
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.
02 September 2014 @ 04:23 pm
[it's a text message, but not by choice for once. instead, it's by necessity. the idea of trying to talk when he can't really hear himself any more is-- well, it's something he'd like to avoid having to think about too much right now. the message itself is one filled with locks. locks that, thanks to the technology glitches, are next to useless. not that he knows that just yet.]

locked to beacon hills crew; 0% encryption

how many of you are sick right now
how bad

[because waking up ill is never a good thing. not when you're not meant to be able to get sick any more. there's a delay before he finally adds--]

full moon's tomorrow
i think i need to be knocked out this time

[there's no way of knowing whether the room will stay locked or not. or whether anyone else will stay well enough to keep him in check.

and that's it. or at least, that's as far as that message goes. a switch of locks (as useless as it may be) and it's time to do something he knows is a bad idea.]

locked to smiley; 0% encryption

i don't know if you're watching this thing still or not but
you helped us before even if people don't really see it that way
i know we haven't given you any reason to do it again but
what're we meant to do
how do we stop this

ooc; any voice posts will go unanswered as his hearing is deteriorating rapidly. video replies won't fare much better, though he'll at least know they're there to respond to
Hello, Tranquility. This is Doctor Knutson, co-head of Xenobiology and Genetics. I understand this illness has escalated at an alarming rate, and that many of us are experiencing symptoms far beyond what one expects from a strain of influenza.

Specifically, many of us are mutating.

[ If she sounds a little concerned about that, it could be because it's very concerning, and the proper weight needs to be given to the subject. What she doesn't sound is alarmed. Then again, this post is noticeably lacking a visual. ]

It would greatly help the department if we had a better idea of what sort of mutations the ship's population is experiencing. If you would be so kind, please either respond to this message, or stop by the XenoGen laboratories or Medical. Species and the nature of your affliction will be very helpful information. Your condition will be kept confidential, should you choose to respond to me, or one of my staff, in private. Anonymous replies are accepted, though not encouraged.

Please seek out Medical, myself, Professor Xavier, or Doctor Grimm regarding this. Thank you for your time and cooperation.