13 March 2014 @ 02:17 pm
Since everyone's all about hiring on help these days-- I've got a few things that need doing if there are any bored volunteers. Also a few things on a shopping list if there's anyone that recently arrived with a decent stash

Shopping list is easy: tea, more tea, spices, decent bacon, cigarettes, movies that aren't space knock offs. Watched almost all of those sixteen thousand times each. Though I recommend space Titanic, which is weirdly better than the Leoardo DiCaprio version.

Things that need doing: someone to move something seriously heavy, someone else to make a delivery and pickup.

You'll be paid in space beer or space risotto. Space beer and space risotto is also what we have to trade with for the stuff on the shopping list. And all of it's semi important, especially the tasks. Only slightly less important than the tasks is the cigarettes.
[A pause.] And maybe the tea.


[ooc ps - there is totally not a sneaky vampire plot embedded in here, don't worry!!! but if you volunteer for the delivery & pickup it will entail a rifle drop off and maybe some (lots of) lying. be warned.]
13 February 2014 @ 02:16 am
[ surprise, surprise, Wichita's broadcasting from the back room in the bar, like she did more often than not before she left. it's not like she's had any "man, it's weird to be back" feelings, because- well she didn't even realize she was gone for however many months when she first woke up after the jump. but then she turns on her communicator and there are a million transmissions about shit she doesn't understand, like, at all, and so she figures she better get to this sooner than later. ]


[ hey. complete with a single wave and a somewhat sarcastic kind of grin. ]

First thing's first, for all the new kids on the block, I'm Wichita and whether you want to or not, I'm going to get to know a decent amount of you, because I'm a bartender at the space bar on the 6th level of the passenger quarters. AKA, the only open-to-everyone bar on board. I'm there pretty much all the time. Before anyone asks, no, Wichita isn't my real name, but no, I'm not going to tell you what it is. It's been a really long time since I've been home, but back then I had to learn how to use a gun, and I've gotten pretty good at it, so I also offer up shooting lessons for anybody that wants them. My two rules when it comes to all that are one, no mixing booze and guns, on the range or in my bar, and two, don't be a douchebag. So. If you fit those rules and want to come by the bar or sign up for a shooting lesson, consider this an open invite.

And there's that introduction.


Second thing's second, I understand that my old room was left unlocked while I was gone, and that usually means that stuff is up for grabs, but that's no bueno now that I'm back, so this is me saying it needs to be returned. Immediately. [ the stuff she took from the kitchens and various parts of the ship she doesn't care about, but the stuff her friends left behind.. ] It's a short list, at least. Just drop it off here at the bar, or put it back where you found it, I don't care. Just refer back to rule two if you're looking for inspiration to not just hold onto it.


[ attached is a typed out list of about ten things, which include Justin Taylor's sketch pad, Isaac Mendez' sketch pad, this gun, this shirt, this hat and this gun, and a couple more random things that people she was close to might've left behind I just can't think of them because it's 3am, hehh, all described just enough to know what she's looking for. ]

Oh, and if somebody wants to explain what the hell's been going on on this ship for the last few months? That'd be- great. I guess. [ which is her cue to grab a drink, yep ]
28 October 2013 @ 06:35 pm
[This is a really crooked video feed, and the jerk recording it didn't even bother to wipe his nose before he started, as evidenced by the fact that his face is maybe a little covered in blood. Gross.]

This is a--this is a PSA--that is…public service announcement, for those of you not--not in the know, as far as acronyms are concerned.

I'm just going to start listing things, and if any of it sounds familiar, please come to--to collect your memories, I don't want them. I had more than enough of other people in my head back home, I didn't--

[Right, just give him a second to try and take care of that nosebleed.]

It didn't start out so bad, but now I'm pretty sure I'm dying, or my head is going to explode, or I'm going to leak out all my blood through my face, so if we could all--could get this sorted as fast as possible, I'd appreciate it.

[Here is a big, gross, snotty inhale, as if to emphasize that he is, in fact, dying. It sounds like SSNNNRRRKKK.

When that doesn't work, he drags a hand across his face, leaving an attractive smear of red up his cheek.

If anyone has, at any point this month recalled not having any arms or legs or being a sort of--sort of ball-shaped robot, that's me, hello, and I'd like to--like to talk with you as soon as possible. Confusing, yes, I know, but seeing as I can't really put owners to the memories of…the monster fights and the gang fights, and the--you lot get in a good deal of fights, don't you?

[Cough. Sniff.]

Bill Murray. Is the bloke's name. If that sounds familiar to you. At all. You had a pretty good time, with him? In his house? To my understanding? Then he died. Your friend? Your friend shot him, but, uh, if I had a friend who went around shooting my other friends, I would sort of--sort of reevaluate where we stood, as far as our friendship was concerned. So, uh, sorry for your loss, either way. You can come get your memories, now.
16 October 2013 @ 12:16 pm
So we're all up in each other's heads, which blows, obviously. I feel like I'm ten people right now, and I have no idea who half those ten people are. I was gonna ask around, try and figure it out, but I have a better idea.

[ for a certain definition of "better". ]

Presenting, The Tranquility's Freaky Memory Swap Directory.

Here's how it works: you drop the details of stuff that doesn't belong in your brain. You know, names, places, events, incriminating secrets. Then comb through what other people leave and work out who got all your dirty laundry so you can bribe or threaten them into silence. Got it? Great.

(( i won't be back to this post for a few hours for any tags meant specifically for stiles, but i turned comment emailing off so tag each other!!! you are welcome to ignore the form.))
14 September 2013 @ 12:44 am
All right, here's the thing.

[ "Here" is punctuated by one Jayne Cobb leaning forward and poking at the camera lens. ]

Lots of you are terrible shots. Since Wes is gone [ grumpy bastard; Jayne liked him anyway and will pour one out -- or drink it -- for him later ] that means no one's probably goin' around pointin' out that the gunnery crew'll teach ya how to be better shots or else make sure you stop touchin' weaponry 'cause we don't want to get shot in the ass.

Anyway. You want to learn to shoot an' take care of your gun, you let us know. That's me an' Ric an' Natasha an' Wichita. I got a few people who've asked me already, so I figured I'd extend the invitation out. Some of us can probably help ya with other weaponry, if ya ask nice. If one of them don't want to teach it... I don't know. Hit 'em until they say yes or until they knock y'out, whichever comes first.

[ And this is why no one should let Jayne anywhere near his communicator. ]
09 September 2013 @ 11:02 am
[For those of you who knew him...

That's what Simon types first. But he decides to reword it, because plenty of people probably knew Nathan, for better or worse - mostly worse. Because Nathan. But that doesn't mean he didn't have other friends.

For those of you who might be concerned, Nathan Young is no longer on the ship.

I know he had a habit of practical jokes. But this isn't one.

[He feels like he should say more, but nothing comes.]
09 September 2013 @ 04:08 pm
[so about that insomnia. no, okay, anakin looks pretty much the same as always when he starts the feed (bar the fact he's down to his inner tunic and has a few smudges of grease on his face. and there may still be a few remnants of stasis fluid in his hair. this is what happens when you have a sudden brainwave and forego your usual rituals in order to follow through.]

Has anybody here ever received something in their locker that they know belongs to them, even though they've never seen it before?

[yes, that might be a strange question to ask, normally. but in a place like this? not so much. he's referring to the lightsaber he's currently inspecting (again). one almost identical to his own, bar the larger size and the abundance of black. (and that sith-like blade he isn't going to mention to anybody. nbd)]

Did any of you ever find out how you got it in the first place?

[because seriously. synthetic crystal. red blade. this is not a good thing.

there's a few pings now; ones sent to those from his world, past, present, and future. (or at least those he's already met). it's left open though because he knows there are more of you out there.]

So, how many of us does that make now? How many people who are familiar with Jedi, back in your home galaxy?

[and then a moment's pause before-]

Luke, I know you're here again.

[there's more he wants to say. there always is when it comes to the matter of his future son. but this one feels different. he knows he isn't the same man who was here the last time. and so he also knows he needs to play this carefully.

a slow exhale, a half smile, and then he's locking down the feed for one last transmission.]

[locked to carolyn; viewable to flight crew]

It didn't work.

[okay, no. perhaps some context]

The power cells do hold a charge, and that should be enough to power a shuttle. But it doesn't work. Every time they're plugged back in to the shuttles, the charge disappears completely, and even Artoo can't track where it goes.

Maybe it's... [huff] I don't know. It could be because we're leeching power from the Tranquility, so maybe we could try charging them some other way. But right now, this whole plan isn't working.

[but! he's anakin skywalker. giving up isn't in his vocabulary.]

I'll come up with something else.
08 September 2013 @ 08:58 pm
[ when the feed first comes on, it’s just of jo, sitting at a bar that should be recognizable to anyone who has ventured into the space bar at all in the last couple of months. jo seems fairly relaxed, sitting at one of the bar stools with one leg crossed over the other, her elbow leaning on the counter. she’s watching something off to her side for a brief moment before she turns back to the feed and smiles. ]

Guess this would be a good time to say welcome to the Tranquility to all the newbies. It sucks, so get used to that. I’m Jo, and I help run the Space Bar. All the free alcohol you could ever want, thanks to the lockers.

[ Wichita’s been fussing with a few bottles behind the bar, back to the camera, mostly just rearranging them for no reason, like it matters what order they’re in or whatever. but maybe it does, because it’s not just Generic Shitty Space Booze anymore. like hey, check out the space bar, suddenly looking very legit. not that it’s all out in the open, no. they’re not dumb. her hands rest on her hips as she steps back to take a look, only vaguely aware that Jo’s been recording, but.. they did decide to make this little announcement, so. okay. she’ll turn around and give the comm a nod, even though she’s not sure that she’s even in the frame until she moves to stand next to Jo’s seat. her arms cross on the bar as she leans on it, shaking her bangs out of her face to give it a good looking-over, like she can see every single person that’s watching the feed right now. ]

I’m Wichita, and basically if you ever have plans of getting drunk somewhere that isn’t all alone in some depressingly boring part of the ship, we’re your new best friends. And don’t listen to anybody that tells you the booze sucks and music sucks, it’s not that bad. The booze we get each jump isn’t high-end Earth stuff, and the music is just- reminiscent of a much happier, weirder time.

[YOOOO I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT blares from the speakers and she doesn’t even flinch. ]

And for those of you who don’t know, last jump we took a little joyride over to a ship called the Cyllene. Got out before the ship went murderous, thank god, and didn’t leave empty handed. [ the grin on jo’s face is more than just a little cocky. they made bank from their pirating, after all, and by bank she means all the new bottles plus some unopened boxes behind the bar. ] This shit ain’t free, though. [ she turns it back around to face her and wichita, back to business. ] We’re up for trades, favors, and manual labor of the shirtless-and-attractive variety.

[ Wichita snorts a laugh and nods ] Seconding the shirtless-and-attractive variety. Though if you want, you’re free to harass the current bartenders for shirtless-and-attractive service too. [ a beat ] Not us, but the guys. [ trollololol ]

Oh- [ jo takes the communicator back, turning back to her. ] And just to throw it out there, if anyone has any REO Speedwagon- CDs or iPods or whatever- I’ll do anything short of… [ she trails off, thinking, before shaking her head. ] Actually, no, I’ll do just about anything for some Kevin Cronin. So if you have some- trade?

Crappy alcohol is all still free. As is the incredible service and a chance to not be totally antisocial. But ask for Jo or Wichita if you want any of the good stuff. And- [ jo’s eyes will suddenly get very dark and very intimidating. ] if anyone even tries to touch our loot, you’ll wish you didn’t.

[ and then she just smiles, all threatening looks gone. ] See y’all later, then. [ have a two-fingered salute, a peace sign from wichita, and then the feed ends. ]

[ ooc: it's pretty obvious, but just in case, wichita is in navy and jo's in black, and both are open to respond to this post! we're also going to be putting up an open log for the space bar! ]

H-hi, it's. Is this...? This recording device is different than the one I -- had.

[ he clears his throat, he's pretty sure this is rolling so let's do this, TQ ]

Do I just say, 'The Tranquility?' Or is there some other name we like to be called? Tranquilities, perhaps. Or. Tranquilmen? People? Tranquil people. [ he shakes his head where is he going with this he's forgotten. ] Everyone needs... friends. Even in space. Even when we're all alone.

Maybe especially then. Now-- as it were. I know I was here before. Oh, I'm. I'm Ned. Some people call me 'The Piemaker.' I make pies. Obviously. And I'd like to, again.

[ god how he misses the pie hole. ]

If anyone knew me -- before. The other me, the ... him. That guy. I'd like to speak with them. [ he gives a little half-smile, his eyes crinkling. ] Or if you work in the kitchens. I'd.

I'd appreciate your input, either way.

Also, apparently I used to work at the bar... [ he's so not sure how that works. ned tilts his head and accidentally (or on purpose) hits the end button. ]
08 August 2013 @ 06:25 pm
everyone who had lessons with me lined up
they're off
ask gunnery if you can't deal with it

[locked to gunnery]

taking time off
you don't like it, fire me

[locked to l. martin]

go to my room and take annabelle and the rat
while you're at it, tell derek it's off

[nope, you're not getting any explanations there. whoops.]

ooc; replies will come briefly (until he's got confirmations from the locked stuff). but don't expect any real conversations out of him. whoops.
17 July 2013 @ 12:17 pm
[Taylor looks slightly restless as well as the usual annoyed as the feed clicks on. This isn't an announcement she wanted to be making, but then, when were they ever? Better to get it over and done with. Which also means she doesn't bother with any real introduction before she just starts talking.]

Most of you know about the shooting we had last month. Guy was called Tate Langdon, zero-zero-three zero-ninety-four. He was held in the brig for a short period before taking advantage of a miscalculation in our security in order to escape. [She's definitely annoyed about that, showing through in her tone for a moment before she returns to the same clipped solder-speak she's been using.] Prior to this, he confessed to the murder of Hayden McClaine, zero-twelve zero-twenty.

We increased patrols in the time before the jump, but he didn't enter or leave a gravcouch and his comms are non-responsive. I'm taking that to mean the fucker's a puddle somewhere.

[But she's fully expecting people to argue with her about it. There's a pause, like she's considering ending it there, but decides to continue anyway.]

Newer waves, I'm Tyke, I'm head of security. It's been a week so I'll save you any welcome spiel. [Like she's great at that anyway.] Basics are we run patrols on the populated areas of the ship, and you can contact us if you have any problems. If you've got any armed forces or policing background or relevant skills, we always need more numbers. You can talk to me about recruitment.

Don't go out in the dark. Don't kill each other.

[Cause that's a good note to cut the feed on, right.]
16 July 2013 @ 12:03 am

guess we're all just gonna ignore the fact the bosses fucked off then

okay, they've "been replaced" or whatever. but with the amount of shit that goes on over the network about not expecting new guys to fill the old guys' shoes, that means fuck all

so. whatever. here you go. this is me being responsible again (fuck you stark)

we're down to the final five in gunnery, so if you're looking for something to do on this ship and you're not scared of handling a weapon (yes i mean that literally), we could use you

if you don't know what you're doing, we can train you. If you do, drop one of us a line (016»012, 001»167, 002»022, 010»199, or 017»142) and we can get you started.

(on second thoughts, don't call cobb. he's probably busy jerking off)


[locked to gunnery & tyke]

for what it's worth, my vote goes to romanoff for taking over gunnery. no idea where you guys stand on it though

ooc; anything re: jobs and the like will be auto-pinged to gunnery folks. so have at it if people want to jump in on stuff?
08 July 2013 @ 09:27 am
[The feed turns on to show the Elvenking sitting in the gardens in a chair, a blanket over his lap and one leg propped up. Most notable about this picture is the cat-sized fawn sitting on his good leg, sucking and lapping milk from a rag. The little critter has been freshly bathed and it shows.]

This little one turned up in my locker. I have enough of his mother's milk to feed him twice, but no more. [And if you ask where that came from, prepare to be depressed and probably grossed out.] I understand some of you know how to make blood. If any of you might do the same with a doe's milk, you will save his life.

Merlin, I would speak with you in the gardens.

[The fawn's lapping tongue ventures past the rag and starts licking the Elf's hand. It stops a moment later and lifts its head to sniff at Thranduil's face. It gets a thumb stroking over the top of its head in return. The other hand moves to cut the feed.]
20 June 2013 @ 12:38 am
I, um-- Hello. It's Kurt. I went home for a while, so I might have missed a few things. Here's hoping the space horror has been decidedly minimal lately.

So, I... I have a favor to ask. Is anyone here familiar with...psychology? I understand that things are always rather hectic around here and everyone has their own agenda, but... Well, I'd like to have a talk with you. You don't have to be a professional, but--you know, some experience would be preferable.

You'll have to forgive me if I ask for a bit of a background check first, since it's pretty common knowledge that there are always unsavory characters around here. It's for a friend, by the way. Not-- I'm all right. I will be, anyway.

[ Locked to Team Jailbait or what's left of it; 60% unhackable ------ ]

So, um... How many of us are left?
14 June 2013 @ 10:45 am
So, alright!

[ someone take Wichita's comm away. now. now, now, now. she's sitting in the back room of the bar, not exactly trashed, but on her way. there's 90s music muffled in the background, as always, though she's not paying any attention to what's going on out there at this point. she's been back here, thinking.

how depressing.

I know this ship is mostly all doom and gloom, hey, I've had cold proof of that fact shoved down my throat time and time again. I get it. I know. This place sucks. ... Sorry, oh-two-oh's, but it's the truth.

But listen up. It's been way over a year since a lot of us showed up, and apparently our last jump lasted an additional year, so that means.. we've all missed a birthday. If not two! Or more, if more than one jump lasted that long. Which, to me, is a reason to celebrate. And don't give me any crap about not celebrating your birthday, because no, come on. You should party, you should feel pretty damn great about yourself. You've survived. You didn't let this place ruin you.

That's definitely worth celebrating.

[ and that's definitely something she's still working on convincing herself to be true, so. here's the motivation behind this whole transmission. oh boy. ]

And so, I'm declaring that today is, officially, our universal birthday. Everybody on the ship! It's your birthday today. So, go nuts. Forget about the fact that this place sucks for five minutes and have a drink or eat some space cake - if you can find anything like cake here anymore - do whatever you want. Relax. But mostly just try and do whatever you can to forget that this place is eventually going to k-

[ woop, crashbangbam. that's what it looks and sounds like when someone drops their comm in the middle of a sentence, oops. oh well. there's a muttered just do it! before she shuts off the comm. prepare yourselves crewmates, for the best game of pretend Wichita can muster considering.. everything. she'll try and help with the whole chilling out thing. she's not a con artist for nothing. ]
03 June 2013 @ 01:16 pm
I was hoping it wouldn't come to a shipwide transmission, but:

Who exactly keeps sending my droid metal flowers?

[They are ugly as sin and madly made, but Obi-Wan is not going to add that. He finally has his shit under control enough to wonder about this little bit of....well. Whatever this is.]

She wants to know.
22 May 2013 @ 11:12 pm
[ dean doesn't look happy when the feed turns on. unlike before, that hint of smugness isn't present either, as it's all down to business seriousness today. he looks tired, a little ruffled you could say-- like someone who hasn't really seen any rest.

and it holds true enough, too. there's no time for resting when you're searching, worrying. ]

There isn't a day on this ship when somebody ain't missing, is there? [ despite the conversational words, his voice lacks anything inviting. he has his favorite gun in his hands, is reloading it with a new magazine, and tossing it into a small bag filled with a few things.

looks like he's going somewhere, and it won't be just a quick trip either. ]

If anyone sees Jo Harvelle, keep her safe and lem'me know. Starting to look like she's been missin' for a few days now… [ he cocks the gun experimentally before flipping the safety back on and tucking it away. ] …which means it's time for a little search and rescue.

SEC, I guess this means I'm taken' a few days off from patrollin' and whatever.

[ a hint in his tone suggests that if that's a problem, keep it to yourself. ]

I'll be back before the jump with her.

[ or he'll try to be. if he isn't… well, that'll be the end of yet another winchester. ]
[ neal takes a long time to prepare for this broadcast, even more than his usual. he's in the devore ( largely relegated to 'look, don't wear' by now ) for extra confidence. the usual fedora is off, though, the better to expose his new scar. there's an almost mocking edge to his charm, an aggressive tilt to his smile because the best way to handle your issues is pretend they're nonexistent.

he takes a moment to fuss with the cuffs before speaking, just to torment certain people ( cambridge ) more. ]

I know the representative from the great state of Montana already made his monthly PSA, but I thought I'd follow his good example for once and add my two cents.

[ his smile drops, eyes finally matching his mouth in full. ]

I wouldn't edge out of civilized territory if you like the idea of leaving the ship ever again, because the best option out in the wilds is agreeing to extend your stay as long as you're wanted. That's the shining light in the distance, and it comes at cost.

[ giving that a bit of a weighted pause, neal raises a hand as if to brush away the truly pretentious bullshit he just laid down and in an instant his smile is back, bright as if it never left. ]

Now that I've done my civic duty, I also wanted to mention I have a still and a reputation for being a deeply superficial person when it comes to my taste in aesthetics.

[ to wit: 'i make good shit'. the warhol shout out's for you, josh. ]

I'm in the market for... just about anything, really. Stories seem to be the currency of the day-- [ sup, madge-- ] So try one of those, if you want. The worst thing I can say is 'try the bar, their alcohol is free'.

[ his smile falters a little at the mention of the bar, but it's quick enough to go unnoticed. ]

I'd slip in a warning about the Kardashian menace, but reliable authorities tell me it's not as funny as I think it is. [ his expression clearly says: and look, i still think it's hilarious. ] But one PSA really is all I have in me, so...

[ with a little half bow he stole off robb stark, he's out. ]

( ooc | for the scar think roughly like peter's in five years gone, albeit more obviously new and raw. )
09 May 2013 @ 07:30 pm
[he doesn't post to this forum very often, but when he does there's always some meat to it. Tate likes to see what people will do, he's a provocateur, digging at a wound to see what it'll look like as it bleeds and the reaction it'll get.

this is nothing like that.

his hands are trembling and he's bitten his nails down to the quick. there's something raw and volatile in his voice, and it shakes when he speaks. less like tears and more like fear.]

I can't find— I can't find Hayley.