10 November 2013 @ 08:49 pm
I knew it.

[ hyde's got his sunglasses on, but even those don't conceal the suspicious squint he's sporting. when he speaks the tone is all excitement, words tumbling out in a rush. his hair still damp, and there’s the faint suggestion of smoke as he gestures. in the background someone’s moving around, though hyde doesn’t turn to watch. a shirt flies past his head and lands on the bed behind him. ]

This is a government experiment, isn't it?I knew it, I knew these existed, and no one ever believed it! I knew NASA was a front, exploration my ass, they're using space just for this mental shit, aren't they? Did you stick a tracking device up my ass when you tattooed me, huh? Huh?

[ there's a pause, the first stirrings of uncertainty, maybe fear. when hyde takes a pause, it’s the first time the person in the background becomes visible, finally fully dressed and tired of hunting for a blowdryer, to see who he happens to be talking to. she leans over his shoulder, eyes widening immediately and a loud gasp following ]

Oh my god, Steven! There’s people in there! [ her nose wrinkles a second later] And they’re so weird looking.

Wait your turn, Jackie! I’m trying to make a point. The future’s full of government stooges, whatever, we’ve got to document it. [ for all his obvious irritation, he doesn’t flinch away when she puts her hand on his shoulder, leans in close to look. ] Hey, who's in charge here? Is this transmitting? Hello? Why even give me this thing if you're not gonna answer me?

[ ooc | the blue font is jackie burkhart! ]
08 November 2013 @ 06:58 pm
Is there anyone still dealing with, uh - bonding issues - since the jump?

I feel like if I start thinking I'm out of the woods, it's gonna bite me in the ass - but it's been a few days since I had the pleasure.

[ grudging sarcasm drips in her voice. the whole connection bit seems to have been fairly constant over the past few weeks - emma had barely gotten a breather, herself - but still, she's hesitant to go the optimistic route when everything's so overwhelmingly sucked for her lately. not even lately - since the curse broke, really. right now, she hasn't entirely ruled out a full-stop hemorrhage and vulcan mindmeld (or your appropriate, un-fourthwally sci-fi equivalent) being some fourth ring of empathy hell. ]

Maybe next time, we can just try trust falls, instead.

[ honestly, she's been trying to dodge coming to the ship's network about this at all for fear that anyone who'd gotten memories from her like irene had might crawl out of the woodwork and recognize her. but at this point, she wants answers more than she wants to hide from her past mistakes, and her present vulnerability. ]
27 October 2013 @ 10:30 am
You know what? This is really silly.

And I'm really sick and tired of all this hiding and lying to people; I'm not even that good at it. And for what? On the off chance that, out of all the people dragged here from all over the multiverse from different planets and points in time, one of them is going to be a religious nutjob with the intent to kill me?

No. You know what? I'm more powerful that some guy who believe's he's doing "God's work" by killing innocent teenagers. I don't need to live in fear of-- of someone finding out, of all these memory shenanigans, of... bigots.

Peeps of the Tranquility:

My name is Cassie Blake, and I'm a witch. A full-blooded, hundred-percent witch. [The corner of her mouth tweaks upwards, like she finds something about that sentence funny.]

I like to think I'm a pretty peaceful person, you know? I don't like fighting. But if there's anyone here who has a problem with my evil witchiness, well, you can find me on level 20, room 5. Bring it.

Otherwise, peace out.
21 October 2013 @ 03:52 pm
If I get drunk, will the other person getting my memories get drunk too?

[He's. Probably already a bit touched by alcohol. Again. Someone needs to take his communicator away from him when he gets into these moods.]

Sorry. [Pff. That was a burp in the making.] It's... hard to deal with. I'm getting headaches. It's like everything's too sharp. Off-balance. I'm not sure how to describe it.

... I wonder what you're seeing. Whoever you are.

[He's... slightly worried about his secrets spilling all over the place, but. Not talking about them specifically is probably the safest bet.]

She's pretty, right? My wife. Her name's Carmo. I bet you would've loved her.
17 October 2013 @ 04:40 am
[There are several orders of business, here, and Lisbeth gets right down to them: no greeting, no please, no thank you.]

I want to know how many people have left the ship and then returned. With or without memories of being here before, and how long they were gone. Firsthand accounts or otherwise.

I also want to know how often our brains and bodies are fucked with and whether anyone's unaffected. I know this isn't the first time.
[And if you're stupid enough to go blabbing to a stranger about the memories you're experiencing, be her guest, but she's not asking for that.]

I need these items:
- disposable camera
- soldering iron
- copper wire
- electrical tape

Contact me privately and we'll arrange something.
22 September 2013 @ 10:51 pm
[Have another odd-hour network post brought to you by rampant insomnia. This one's in the science labs, and thankfully there doesn't appear to be anyone else around to witness what Zeke's been doing with the equipment. He only signed up a week ago, and if nanites can be revoked, he's very possibly on his way to losing them. Not that the prospect seems to be bothering him, looking just as unaffected and confident as usual - even if there might be more of a slouch and sluggishness to him than can be written off as 'bad boy teenager'.]

Looks like the good doctors aren't gonna come back on the air to admit it, but you should all know by now sedatives aren't cutting whatever bullshit's messing with our heads. And I don't know about the rest of you people, but I'm getting sick of feeling like some Dawn of the Dead extra.

[Which will be a really good excuse for why he strayed into the land of bad decisions, when he looks back on this. In the moment, though, he just holds up two little clear plastic pots with a small amount of white powder in them.]

Skat. My own personal recipe, adapted from limited resources, so let's call it version one-point-five. [His hand tips, almost like he's offering the tubes to whoever might be on the other side of the comms.] Guaranteed to crank you up to eleven, burn the fog off, let you do some thinking again. Selling for the low low price of whatever the hell you've got, man.

[He really doesn't sound like he actually cares, because it's not like there's much to do business with here. But he does pause, glance to the side.]

While stocks last.
[ here's the thing: sleep deprivation makes idle whims seem like fantastic ideas-- and neal's not full up on self-control as it is, so two weeks of barely any sleep just raises great idea to best idea on his personal scale.

as such he's leaning against the wall behind his bed, pupils slightly blown. what is an intro he can't even. ]

Not we, my dear, you. I'm leaving you here.

You're what? Rhett, where are you going?

I'm going, my dear, to join the army.

[ his posture changes between; other than a few flat vowels slipping in as rhett, pushing for the accent seems a little too much and posture is good enough to convey the suggestion of gender, if you're careful. ]

Oh, you're joking. I could kill you for scaring me so.

I'm very serious, Scarlett. I'm going to join up with our brave lads in gray.

But they're running away.

Oh, no, they'll turn and make a last stand, if I know anything about them. And when they do, I'll be with them. I'm a little late, but better late than--

[ it's tricky to overlap your own voice, and his grimaces a little and shrugs as if apologizing for the lack of actual interruption in the scene. ( sleep deprivation or pretentiousness: the world may never know. ) ]

Rhett, you must be joking.

Selfish to the end, aren't you? Thinking of your own precious hide with never a thought for the noble cause. [ he yawns widely, skipping scarlett's line in the process. ] Why? Maybe it's because I've always had a weakness for lost causes, once they're really lost. Or maybe, maybe I'm ashamed of myself. Who knows?

[ he pauses, body language returning abruptly to his usual. ] I missed something, there. Anyway-- [ and back to the show. ]

You should die of shame to leave me here alone and helpless.

You, helpless? Heaven help the Yankees if they capture you. Now climb down here. I want to say goodbye.

[ that makes him pause, one that extends out into another jaw-cracking yawn and neal slumps down even more, almost prone now. ]

There's more, but it's really better with someone else.

[ and he's out. ]
[ Good space evening, Tranquility! Did you say you wanted two exasperated, vaguely concerned doctors this evening? Yes? Good! Because there are two of them. Simon and Bones are broadcasting from the familiar backdrop of the Medbay, and it's clear that what they're about to say is very important. Simon speaks first, rubbing the bridge of his nose between two fingers before addressing the camera. ]

If the recent network posts have been any indication, it seems that many of you have been experiencing insomnia. We're not sure if it's a result of the most recent jump, but Doctor McCoy and I wanted to take a moment to remind everyone that we do have treatment available in the Medbay for anyone who’s been having trouble sleeping.

[ There's a moment when Bones looks at Simon to make sure he's done mentioning the insomnia and the fact that there is the sleeping aids available from them. Unlike the other remedies from everyone's various homes, Bones thinks they may be more effective at combating the issue. He ends up rubbing at his eyes and picks up where Simon had left off. ]

We'd start you off at the smallest doses, of course, and if that doesn't work, tell us and we'll work up from there. In addition, there's been a rash of several of you all coming in with bloody noses, ears and occasional burst vessel in your eye or eyes. Or if you're supremely unlucky, you may have been caught on camera suddenly bleeding. Chances that all of you who've had those issues are coming into Medbay is slim to none, but both Doctor Tam and I are wondering just how many of you all— [ Not us, because clearly neither of them have dealt with it, really. ] have had that happen at least once or twice since this past jump. And if it's happened, how many times, as well as, where. Meaning your actual location and the place you were bleeding from.

We can't stress enough how important it is for you to come to Medbay if you think you're ill. Burst blood vessels in the eye will usually heal on their own, but a checkup never hurts.

[ Well, except when they do, but that's obviously not the point he’s trying to make. ]

[ But Simon, a little suffering is good for the soul! Except fine, valid point to make, even if Bones ends up giving him a bit of a look. ]

And if it actually does, then wouldn't you know it, we can fix that. [ But right, yes, they got what they needed to say out and someone's gotta end this feed with something better than that so as Bones is reaching over to cut the feed, he does say one thing as if to say goodbye. ]

At the off chance you're ill and you don't come by and I find out, I'm not above coming to find you and dragging you down here for that check-up.

[ And then the screen goes black. ]

( Green for Simon, Blue for Bones! )
15 September 2013 @ 12:37 pm
[You know how sometimes, when you go for a really long time without sleep, you write things that seem really profound? Things that seem like really marvelously good ideas?

If not, see below.]

It has been some time since I engaged in any data collection: please fill out the following survey so that more data might be collected.

Level of education:
Place of origin:
Annual income:
Length of time you've been here:
Last time at which you slept:
Do you think we ought to have a system of law in place?:
If not, would you have objections to being provided with an informational pamphlet as to how laws are put in place to protect individuals from the state & not necessarily vice versa?:
If not, do you not see that as perpetuating your own preconceived notions?:
Why do you think we are here?:
Why do you think we are currently unable to sleep?:
How many "incidents" have you been caught up in (e.g., Strela, when we lost power, getting stuck in the hallways):
How did you comport yourself at that time?:
Would you like to
Are you currently experiencing adverse physical effects?:

This survey will be analyzed, using statistics & science.

Thank you.

With regards,
M. Edgeworth
11 August 2013 @ 07:46 am
[ the number's a 022, but there's no questions about where they are or when they get to go home. will doesn't even really want to be making this post, but people are talking about animal bones, human remains, blood. and that's kind of his gig. ]

I'm not a trained forensic analyst, but if we've got the equipment to do so, I'd be willing to try and take a look at the organic tissue people found in their lockers. I got meat. Anyone else?
08 August 2013 @ 02:53 pm
anyone else feel like they need to scrub their skin off right now?


[ what with smiley's post and the slightly more horrified noises around the medbay and lockers, plus the inexplicable itchy feeling she'd been having that's making the hair on the back of her neck raise - almost like something was just out of sight and they were too late to know it. ]
24 July 2013 @ 01:05 am
hey tq

too much talk about serious things lately. yeah i know we have to take this place more seriously, it's dangerous, we're overdue for something bad. but i can't do anything about that right now! and that's pretty frustrating.

so. let's play a game to lighten the mood! two truths and a lie. i'll go first.

1. i'm bored and i have a cold
2. i survived multiple attempts on my life before coming here
3. i'm a normal teenager
I dunno how to swim. 

[Wow Takeshi, what a good opener. Give him a second, he's getting to his weird point; kinda just popped into his head while he was dreading the idea of learning how to swim, and all.]

Everybody's got stuff they dunno! Right? I dunno how to do lots of things... like — I can't whisple [yes he said it like that, shut up; he also demonstrates how he can't whistle by blowing spittle in a sad attempt to.] And I don't think I can drive cars. I never never tried, but I don't think I can. My feet are too short!

[Because obviously that's why five-year-olds (six-year-olds? is he six yet?) can't drive.]

I know lots of things, too, though! I learned how to make pasta, a-and — I can write some, 'cus Heder teaches me sometimes. I know my alphabet, and I can do car-wheels and backflips, those're easy. Does everyone got stuff they can't do but they wanna learn? Maybe everyone can help eachoff—eachother learn it. What kindsa' stuff can you do?

I wanna learn how to fight better, too... Everyone says I shouldn't, but I — I think it's important. Heder, Nederlands, it's important, right? Is that bad?

[He needs to know you guys are backing him up here! FIGHTING IS SO IMPORTANT OKAY, IT'S WHAT HE'S SURPRISINGLY CAPABLE AT. But at the same time, he thinks they'd be mad if he outright said 'can anyone show me how to punch and kick like the cool kids'. So he doesn't. But he strongly hints at it, because even if he's one of the youngest passengers, he knows his way around words. Sneaky little booger, like that.]

I don't punch and kick very good... but I can throw things good. Heavy things! And I can run... so I guess I can run-hit. I know how to run-hit. But if bad things happen, it's good to know how to do the other stuff, too! 'Cus I like the ship, but it's scary sometimes, and sometimes you gotta kick and punch...
19 July 2013 @ 09:49 pm
[someone already has a bottle of vodka for herself, but is walking in the general direction of space babylon.]

Yeah yeah, everybody keeps saying this ship is full of creepy-crawlies and psychotic emoticons but I haven't seen any of those things yet so I'm just gonna pretend they aren't real for the next few hours. Sooo I don't know really what the month or day is in this place, but I've been keeping track and according to my records it's my twenty-first birthday today.

[she throws both her hands in the air and lets out a "woo!" enjoy the brief video recording of the ceiling as she walks. she quickly corrects herself. she looks a little rumpled, but no worse for wear.]

I mean, back home it doesn't matter really but in the place I was before this, twenty-one was when people could actually legally get alcohol. So there's that.

[she stops walking and holds up the bottle, squinting at it.]

Yeah, I need something to mix this with. So come introduce yourselves to me okay? Make me a drink. Help me celebrate this pretty arbitrary age. Show me whatever it is that people who don't drink until they're twenty-one do when they finally turn twenty-one.
[ 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.
10 July 2013 @ 11:05 pm
[Hi, Tranquility. Remember Andy? He remembers you. Probably. Doesn't matter, because he found the alcohol and drank to forget his latest woe. Except now he wants to do nothing but talk about it.]

She's - she's a great woman. My wife. Maria do Carmo Correia. That's my wife. You probably jus' knew her as Carmo. It's a really pretty name, isn't it? I like it so much. That's a real Portuguese name.

I love her so much. Y'know? And I guess now she's... gone, or something. Back home, right? That's where people go when they don't wake up like the res' of us. [pause. Something got caught in his throat.

Yep, that was a burp.


[Onwards.] But it's a good thing that she's home. I'm not sad. [just pathetically drunk.] Would've been nice to... say goodbye. Kiss her one last time. But now she's with Tomás and everything's right with the world. He's gonna give her trouble without me around, you can count on that.

[There's a sigh, smile present, but it eventually fades to something thoughtful and... well. Sad. Andy puts the glass down and buries his face between crossed arms, voice muffled by his sleeves.]

I jus' love her so much.

[That would be a weird sounding, strangely animal-like whine.

Then he hiccups.]
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. ]
[The screen is showing a very anxious little boy. He doesn't use the comms very often for just anything at all - no, Takeshi's all about being practical, using it for when he has a question or something to that effect, or maybe threatening somebody. So it's no surprise that he's kinda serious right now. Like he's working on summoning up the courage.]

Um... I dunno if - if it's bad to ask right now, but... Uhhh... I wanna... talk to some doctors...

I'm not hurt! I'm okay! But - can you - check my head? 'Cause at home... I had a chip. It's called a chip, my dad said. They put it in my head, and it makes people's heads a'splode. I don't think it works no more, 'cause - 'cause I talk about stuff I shouldn't talk 'bout, and I'm okay still, but I don't want my head to a'splode. Someone said I need to see if it's okay. So I am!

[A pause.]

I'm okay, though! Heder - Ned - don't worry.



oh lawdy, child.

Suddenly the camera turns to a panda bear, sitting on Takeshi's second bed, chewing quietly on a stick.

He looks at the camera, pauses, and then goes right back to his task.]

And!! This is Hoi Hoi! Please don't shoot him! He's a nice bear. He just likes hugs. I gotta find bamboo for him. I think he'll like that more than the people food he eats.
30 May 2013 @ 07:16 pm
If you were a superhero, what would you want your power be? And would you tell anyone about it?

I used to read a lot of comic books.

[And by 'used to' he really means right before he came here.]

I guess I've just always liked superheroes. They have powers, gifts, things that make them special. But there's always pain too. They lose people that they love, or they have to hide their true identity. Their lives are never perfect.

Maybe I should've started by asking if you would WANT to be a superhero.
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.