14 July 2014 @ 04:59 pm
Got a couple of requests.

[ his cut is stripped off and draped across his lap, one desert eagle resting atop it. jax is in his faded white "reaper crew" t-shirt and shoulder holsters. he's sitting tipped back in the chair. his boots are resting on the edge, not that it's within frame. ]

Anyone with some technical know-how wanna swing by the gunnery? See, we been doing what we can on these fucking turrets and consoles, but there's some shit that's beyond us. A bunch of them are too fried to work, and that's a problem, assuming the shit that goes bump in the night comes at us from the outside. Back home, we get a second opinion before ripping out the guts and starting over, so anyone thinks they can shed some light on the situation, I'll owe you one.

[ it's not as detailed a description as it could be, but as far as jax is concerned there's only so many ways to say "fucked beyond comprehension" before getting redundant. he tugs at the strap of one holster, pausing like he's letting that sink in. ]

I also gotta ask, anyone up here capable of tattooing? It's not like I've seen any place capable of it since we made our last stop. Am I reaching here?

[ probably, but a man's gotta ask. ]

Hey, Hyperion. I gotta talk to you too. You got a minute any time soon?
 
 
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.
 
 
24 May 2014 @ 12:46 pm
[ ZOOM IN. INT: THE SHIP. There’s something not so dark about the video feed, actually, but it does feature only the back of a chair. Slowly, s l o w l y, it turns around--

And it’s Veronica, with one hand petting an imaginary cat and one twirling an incredibly imaginary moustache.
]

I’ve been expecting you, Tranquility.

[ Too much? Veronica grins, the screen shaking a little as she reaches to pick up the communicator. There’s a whine from somewhere in the background -- definitely doggylike, definitely her dog, since there’s a brown-fur head that bats gently into her other hand that no longer is preoccupied with villanious imaginary pencil moustaches. ]

But seriously folks. Hi, I’m Veronica. I might make this announcement again, but for now, there are a lot of floors and not a lot of security folks. Trust me-- I’ve done the math, crunched the numbers, and sooner or later we’re all going to be putting pig heads on spikes.

[ Out of the corner of the screen, Backup, her dog, apparently seems to be content to chew mildly on her fingers. Veronica…. looks a little disgusted, but love is love, and her nose wrinkles then un-wrinkles in distaste. ]

If you want to make yourself useful, consider this, me, Veronica, poaching you, the citizens of the Tranquility, to change departments and sign up for Security.

[ Sing-song: ]

We have Tyke!

[ One hand -- the hand not currently getting chewed on lovingly -- makes a tiny little paw and claws. ]

Very grr, arrgh.

You’ll love it, I promise.
 
 
30 April 2014 @ 07:05 pm
The hors d'oeuvres and pirates are great and all, guys, but have you ever really considered the consequences of this multi-world space party?

If we're lucky, then we're not from different universes. We just share different addresses in the same infinite space. Maybe your neighbor is 10 to 20th to the 40th light years away from you, and whatever took us here was somehow able to cross that sheer distance of space-time to bring us all together.

And if we're unlucky?

Then each of our universes exist independently. Each universe is its own bubble, a false vacuum governed by its own laws. Laws like energy level, the particles that make up what we are, et cetera, et cetera. In other words, we shouldn't be able to interact.

One of the times where we might interact is if one of these universes were to subsume the other. In my world, we call it a false-vacuum decay. In an instant, the poor bastards of Universe A find themselves functioning under an entirely new set of laws, but wait--

They can't.

There are specific conditions that allow you and the physical world around you to exist. Change any of those conditions, and you're fucked. Either you're gone in an instant, or if you survive, it won't be long. Gravity is going to pull everything together until we've got one giant mass. And seriously, I don't like anyone that much to be that close to them.

I'm not saying that is what's going to happen to us. The fact that we can coexist within the same space implies that the laws of our universes aren't so far off. In fact, it explains the wonky powers issue. But think about it: if a bunch of people are being pulled from different universes, aren't we poking holes in each of these bubbles? Could we be compromising the integrity of each separate universe, until the borders weaken and ultimately everything collapses into each other?

Could it happen? I don't know. I'm not sure if anyone could really know for sure, and all of this? It's pretty damn humbling. Even the most powerful of us are just shitstains on the great toilet bowl of the multiverse. Cheers!

TL;DR: All our universes could collapse into each other. Discuss.
 
 
18 April 2014 @ 12:07 pm
[There a click on, and the clear sound that someone is there, but there's a pause, like maybe someone is making sure.]

Is this broadcast going through?

I think I got it-

Hello, Tranquility, my name is Steve Rogers.

I'd like to be directed to whoever is in charge of Security, if that's not too much trouble. And I'd like to know if it's possible to see out into space. Are there any windows on board?

[Annnnd a pause, and a fumble.]

Is it off?

[And then another pause.]

Sorry, excuse me-

[And NOW it's off.]
 
 
07 April 2014 @ 05:21 pm
[There's an alert sent out to every comms, stating GENERAL ALERT: EVACUATE MEDBAY followed by SECURITY ALERT: MEDBAY. Taylor's voice announcement comes after, obvious from the rhythm of her speech that she's already moving (running).]

Do not enter medbay. All passengers already in there are to evacuate immediately. This is an immediate security situation, and it will be enforced.

[FILTERED TO SECURITY | ENCRYPTED 95%]

I've had a report of possibly multiple explosive devices planted in medical. I need the area cleared of passengers, I need a perimeter secured and held, and then we're gonna need to start sweeping.

[Though what they're going to do if it turns out to be true is a bridge she'll cross when she comes to it.]

[[ooc post with information on what's going on HERE!]]
 
 
10 March 2014 @ 12:04 pm
Does there exist documentation or any record concerning the use or effects of magic on the ship? I am interested in notation on repeated instances of magic during menial or daily activities as well as during times of flux as has recently passed, irrelevant to 'type' or origin of said magic.

I have perused the informational guide as well as backread through the network but this technology is not in use where I am from; I am unsure if I have missed anything due to unfamiliarity with the interface.
 
 
08 March 2014 @ 10:38 pm
 
So!! Okay, hey everybody. How's it hanging? It's Marty here, and I've got some pretty bitchin' news. 

[He's hanging out in a kitchen (where else), and he's got what appears to be something under a sheet, protected under the thin fabric. Judging by the smug look on his face and the twinkle in his eye, he's pretty damn proud of whatever he's concocted. People who have been watching him in the gardens may not be all that surprised by this.]

So, engineering - really screwed some of us up, right? People who went in there got pretty sick, and I'm noticing it's a trend after the jump, too. Meanwhile, here I am, making potato chips. So I think 'Marty, why not make this the best of both worlds?' With that in mind, I present to you my lovechild:



[WA-BAM. He removes the blanket to show a table full of bowls, with sexy potato chips filling every bowl. This is a labor of love, people. Months and months of turning into a stoner farmer, all for this moment. Hell yeah. But wait! There's more!]

I present to you:

Marty's Medical Marijuana Chips!!

Feeling super nauseous right now? Well, these chips here have the goods baked right in; a few of these bad boys and you'll be riding a nice high for a few hours while your sickness clears up. Plus, they taste fucking delicious, and that's the second most important thing when it comes to a little jump vertigo. Granny T ain't got shit on me.

[....]

They're not all gonna be marijuana chips. Just. Jump ones. 

Promise.

[Nobody tell Edgeworth.]

 
 
08 March 2014 @ 05:07 pm
Another Jump has come and gone.

[ hey, Tranquility. Lucrezia Borgia's hair falls freely down her back today and her cheeks are rosy and her lips are smiling. though if you know Lucrezia Borgia, and many do by now, you would perhaps recognize something in her smile, a twinkle in her eye which is impish. ]

I have counted more than twelve jumps, near fifteen and my days on this ship had been many yet today I come to you with a plea, Tranquility.

[ notice the faux!serious expression on her face. ]

There is a man upon this ship who had promised me a most wonderful promise many months ago and failed to see it through. I do not know if it is a regular affair in this person's world to break a promise made to a lady but I have come before you seeking justice from him so he would see it done. Duel him, pester him, chase him down at my name, if you wish it. Only bring him before me or tell him to present himself to me and be given punishment for said offense.

His name is Sirius Black. He is taller than me with dark hair and mischievous eyes and a talent in magic and he had given me his word that he will hold a Christmas upon this vessel. I do not know the months but surely not celebrating it at all is worse than trying to. My Holy Father would say the attempt is as important as the result. I trusted Sirius Black with such and here I am, months afterwards and nearly married -

[ allow her to look very pleased for a moment ]

And not a Christmas in sight. That said, I call upon my friends to deliver him to me so we may settle this matter once and for all.
 
 
04 March 2014 @ 03:39 am
Good morning, Tranquility.

[ Erik is seated at his desk, eyes fixed flat upon the camera. ]

I’m conducting a poll.

[ The suit he’s wearing is dove grey and freshly pressed. The dress shirt beneath it is discolored about the collar, faded brown blotched behind the (flagrant) purple of his tie. He could stand to shave. He could stand to sleep for more than a few hours before addressing the entire network. ]

On a scale from one to ten, with one being the perpetuation of a meaningless existence at the mandate of an invisible hand for some unknown and likely terrible purpose, and ten being, [ he pauses to take a breath and to check down after his notes, ] ten being no harm done with a side of unlikely survival courtesy of a confusing -- but benevolent -- presence, [ he reads directly: ]

How would you rate the outcome of last month’s attempted mutiny?

[ A show of his teeth when he looks up can’t quite pass for a smile, fleeting and thin as it is. ]

Just curious.
 
 
18 January 2014 @ 05:04 pm
[the feed opens on a shot of (a slightly sweaty looking) isaac stood in one of the corridors of the ship. he isn't quite in the unexplored areas yet, but he's close. after spending the past month seeking out a certain familiar face from home (and failing so far), he's debating whether it's time to head further afield yet or not. it's the temperature changes that're the issue here, rather than the potential threats those corridors hold. what if it hits either extreme and he's stuck without supplies to combat it. what if the pack stuffed with sweaters isn't enough to keep him from freezing to death in the next cold patch]

So, engineering is too hot for anybody to head in, and some of the rooms here have ended up pretty cold. [UNDERSTATEMENT. though thanks again, hayley]

Are there any other places that've gotten too- [his sentence cuts off there suddenly, his attention shifting further down the hallway. fixing on something off-camera. taking a shaky breath, he glances back at his device briefly, debating whether or not he should be calling for derek now. but by the time his gaze if back down the corridor again, his reasons for the pause are over. whatever it was is gone.

there's another few moments of silence as he makes a move of his own, doubling back a little further in to the explored areas. a strategic retreat, for now]


...uh. Right. So, like I was asking, what's the likelihood of someone getting stuck somewhere that...I don't know. Burns them up or something?

[he may not have found anywhere like that yet, but that doesn't mean the possibility isn't there. but with that question out the way, isaac takes a moment to change the settings of the feed. to lock the rest of this from those from his world (and hayley/ric/jenna). it's a call he should have made weeks ago. months, even. but that hadn't been an option before. not with derek there helping him. now though-

when he speaks again, his voice is far quieter. he knows the others aren't going to take this well. that even though the people here from beacon hills may have never met the man, they undoubtedly know of him. the problem with going to a high school is that rumors spread far quicker than you'd expect.]


...dad, please. I know you're here.

[a pause, and a final-]

I'm sorry.

[because obviously he's staying hidden for a reason. considering just how their last conversation went, just how it ended up. it's with good reason. he just needs the man to understand that this time won't be a repeat. it can't. for all that went wrong, they're still family.

and with that, the connection is finally cut.]
 
 
10 January 2014 @ 07:34 pm
You know how I say "give me a break", being in a coma for almost a month wasn't exactly what I was talking about. Now, I guess that it's sorta hot around the ship (first of all, get over it it's what happens on ships) and it's kinda not in Shuttle Bay.

Here are some dos and don'ts if you're going to come near my area in the Bay.


✔ Get the hell away from my work area
✔ Bring me beer
✔ Bug Carolyn about everything
✔ Take your complaints to Sulu
✔ Annoy Amidala
✔ Don't ask me who the hell is in Shuttle Bay
✘ Come near my work area
✘ Touch anything
✘ Breathe around anything
✘ Think about touching anything
✘ Think about asking me what I'm doing
✘ Talking to me
✘ Thinking about me
✘ Thinking about the state of the ships
✘ Asking me what that sound is
✘ Complaining if you get shot because you broke all of these rules


Failure to comply means getting shoved out of an airlock. Or something, I don't know. Don't talk to me or even look at me.
 
 
[ ned addresses the feed nervously as always, but with a purpose today. the rest of you may be worried about a monster in your midst, but this posting has a much more mundane goal in mind. ]

As some of you might already know... I was--am? The pie, the proprietor of a pie eatery and bakeshop, my Pie Hole. I mean, the. The Pie Hole. In space. Not that it was ever in space before, but it will be. Now. In the present and space-oocupied moment. Presently. [ what. he clears his throat. ]

Chuck, for those of you who--who already know her. [ and now starting to get pink... ] My girlfriend. And, and myself will be taking pie orders whether it's a simple apple pie or a delicacy only found on your home world. I will do my best to replicate it here with our limited resources. And eventually, I do plan to have an established establishment with a full pie menu, as well as some possible... extras, as much as I regale myself as a self-proclaimed pie purist. Which I think, self-proclamation is the only way to actually be proclaimed in pie purity... Uhm. So. Requests.

[ he holds up a little board that says "22-09" with a bright smile. ] This is my number should you care to stop by or, call. What better time for pie than when we all are, surely, in great need of comfort. And what more comforting food could there be.

Oh! Before I forget. For those of you who might come from terrible places without pie? There will be a pie-tasting assuming we don't all die of heat-exhaustion or giant invisible monsters.

[ another bright smile before he disconnects! ]
 
 
03 January 2014 @ 04:35 pm
So— let me get this straight.

[ Veronica looks sweaty because, you know, apparently the Tranquility believes it's in the tropics in space. She makes a face, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. ]

My laptop, somehow, needs to get recharged. My camera seems to be busted, because it's either that, or everyone has seven days to live, and I'm trying this thing called optimism. I'm all out of crosswords, this is not the vacation that I signed up for, and apparently there is a big giant monster only some people can see that wants to kill us. [ That, and people here either seem to spend their time drunk as hell or being big mystical beings who do mystic things. (Veronica is not worried. Veronica is not worried because Veronica has accepted that this is, like, at least 81% real, and by that juncture the rest of it is just— you roll with the punches. You adapt. You try really, really hard to distract yourself by doing literally any job that falls into your lap.)

That's her. Veronica Mars, modern college girl on the go: the sequel.

In space.
]

I'm already helping Edgeworth, but if anyone wants me to do an odd job, point me in that direction. You'd be doing me a favor — it's better than just sitting around, trying to deal with the fact I really should have listened more to my AP Physics teacher when he talked about string theory. And, uh—

[ She pauses, her nose wrinkling. ]

I've never— This— whole inter-dimensional science fiction thing? Is new to me. So if there's some kind of, cultural, verbal address that would be more polite when it comes to people who aren't— humanesque, I'd appreciate it if someone could fill me in.

[ God, how is this real. Still hallucinating? Maybe. It's definitely hot enough to be. ]
 
 
31 December 2013 @ 11:55 am
going to find the damn thermostat.

volunteers welcome, amateurs not.

survival skills required.
 
 
14 December 2013 @ 06:37 pm
[ Erik does not introduce himself, but appears hard-faced and grim on the readout. He does not smile; his eyes (an affable blue) are set dead on the camera at an apathetic remove. The lines around them are matter-of-fact. They look like they’ve been there for years. ]

For those of you with a ‘gift,’ who rely upon -- or even value -- the courtesy and discretion of their peers in keeping such matters beneath the radar,

[ there is a distinct clink and slosh when he reaches out of frame to tip an invisible bottle over an invisible glass ]

I advise you to think twice before placing your faith in my erstwhile colleague.

He is passionate, but not always in possession of the best judgment.

[ A wind upward at the corner of his mouth fails to reach his eyes. ]

This message has been brought to you by ‘Magneto,’ and half a bottle of chardonnay.

[ The video cuts out before his voice does. ]

Enjoy your stay.
 
 
15 December 2013 @ 01:26 pm
I'm sure you must all see a lot've messages like this.

[ The man who appears is one who has appeared on the network before -- soft-faced and earnest, anxiety tested in the lines next to his eyes and a direct sort of stare that manages not to miss the tiny camera embedded in the device he's holding. Still, he smiles, just a little.

His address is slow and not exactly formal, just considered. ]


My name is Charles Xavier, and I'm newly arrived. You'll have to forgive me if I ask any questions you've heard before, though I'm doing my utmost to gather what I can on my own. I believe I've got the basic picture, although any advice is of course appreciated.

What I would most like to know is how many are here that had some sort of... [ He hesitates. ] ...gift. A natural ability of some kind, beyond the usual human faculties. A conversation would be of great interest to me.

Thank you.
 
 
14 December 2013 @ 09:17 am
Good day. My name is Miles Edgeworth; I am with the Security team. As ever, I would like to request that any new arrivals with expertise in law enforcement, the military, or combat contact me to discuss potential employment.

[He would also like to request that all you dicks stop talking about The Worst Holiday Ever, thanks. And he would like to distract you from it with this:]

I should like, also, to discuss our backgrounds. I have done this in the past, I will grant, and as such I beg a bit of patience from those who have previously seen such questions. Nevertheless, I believe that discovering the commonalities amongst us will assist in the uncovering of the reason why we were brought here; more, a general census will, I think, assist in preventing people from falling through the cracks, as it were.

[And it will GET YOU BASTARDS TO SHUT UP ABOUT CHRISTMAS FOR FIFTEEN GODDAMN SECONDS]

I have attached a text document. Kindly open this document, fill it out, and submit it to me. Note that number five is quite optional, but an answer would be appreciated and potentially quite helpful.

survey.doc )
 
 
12 December 2013 @ 11:33 am
[look, it's a face. look, it's legolas's face. you don't see that on the network very often. he looks-- relatively calm, in spite of the drawn eyebrows and overall weariness. or as much as an elf is able to look weary. that might be a smudge of dirt on his chin.]

..It is always painful to lose a friend when the cycles turn. Or two, and one of them for a second time. [not to mention another one in a coma.

he sighs though, lifts his shoulders in what might be a shrug, and pulls on a smile. ned did say something about charm.. a few months ago.]


Seeing as my employer is asleep again, and I think it has been some time since the last one-- the oxygen gardens is currently-- ah, short staffed. [as.. always.] I think we may be able to manage it, but some assistance would be much appreciated, even if you do not decide to join the department itself.

There is some gardening done, but for those less inclined to the soils, there is also the monitoring of the hydroponics [did he say that right, can ned be proud of him for saying it right.] and the water cleaning system. And as always, we would advise that the owners of the the plants in the community garden and the creatures that reside here come by to care for them accordingly. It may be difficult for us in the department to have a hand in everything at the moment.

[shuffling. the camera jostles for a moment, and then a garden.txt file is attached. no, he was not not the one to name it.

he takes on a more serious tone now. the kind that's trying to be serious but also trying not to scare people away, otherwise known as a bit worried.]
I have heard also of a thing known as Christmastime that might be celebrated this cycle. If you require a tree or any other plant from the gardens, please ask for some assistance. If possible I would have them removed in a way that they may still be replanted afterward with little damage to them.

[not to poop on holiday spirits or anything. but if another tree is dragged up haphazardly, he has a bow and he is not afraid to use it.]

Please do not hesitate to ask if there are any questions in regards to this. I may be found here at all times, and there is often someone else from the department here as well.

((ooc: agriculture 101. no hoverdollies and spaceracing for non-dept members, sorry. open to action, set in the gardens of course!))
 
 
08 August 2012 @ 07:18 pm
[Great, one of these things again. This was all feeling a little too familiar. A video shows up on the network, but Lisbeth's face is barely visible. It may seem more like an accidental video. The left side of her body is visible.]

I don't do well in confined spaces.