Urge to Kill... Rising...

[namisan]

Who: Nami
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Bloodsport.  Or the planet's surface, I guess.
When: Now

[So Nami had been intending to grow her hair out again, but recent events have proven it's gonna take a little more time.  As of a week ago, her hair has been carved back to its short status for reasons she hasn't bothered sharing, and she's been in a terrible mood for the entire time.  Which has much less to do with her hair and more to do with her two temple runs and the treasure (or not) that she found.

On the other hand, this sponsor delivery she's just found in the Bloodsport's cargo bay really just rounds off the feeling she's being picked on.] 

...cute.  At best, you're late.

[Sup, Flooters.  This is Nami kicking a crate-sized box over, sending glittery, silky hair ties and ribbons and combs and assorted accessories bouncing across the floor, her voice that cheerful sickly sweet that will rise the hackles of anyone who's spent too much time in close proximity with her.]

Free to a good home!  It's in the Bloodsport cargo bay, come and take it by all means.  [Be warned, though, this pile of hair accessories are the kind you'd expect to find in a kiddie aisle that's been painted obnoxiously pink.]  I'm not gonna be here.  I hope they're all gone by the time I come back.

On that note, I'm going up to the surface.  I doubt anyone else is heading up that way, but I'm going up to test some stuff and that'll make the area hazardous to suddenly turn up in, so.  Fair warning, just avoid the area around these coordinates.  [Coordinates given.  It's a freaking planet of water, there's plenty of surface area, but her luck is inconvenient at best so let's avoid anyone haplessly surfacing in the middle of a lightning field, yeah?]

I hope everyone else is having a better week.

[Now excuse her, she's off to vent her frustration with a waver and a glorified storm stick.]

Eighth Blight - voice and action

[bryces_pup]

Who: Riona fresh off her canon update, and you
Broadcast: Yes
Action: On the Blue Fish, if desired
When: Forward dated to the morning of 3/13

( Pre-broadcast… )

[Once she settles on her choice of words, she flicks on her device. She sticks with voice for now, not wanting to startle anyone unnecessarily.]

It seems that I’m awake.

[To those very familiar with her, they may notice a certain rougher quality to her voice, a sort of coarseness that wasn’t there before.]

Yes, yes, we all know the questions that come next: what did I miss? Has anything changed? And of course, how long have I been out? [A pause. Her tone deadpans.] I remember this place. The natives thought sudden introduction to their water to be the best way of acclimating us to their home. [Assholes.] So, it couldn’t have been for too long.

[There’s a sound, almost like a laugh.] How this place makes a mockery of time…

[Time. It’s not a luxury she has back home. Here, though, she has it in spades. It almost disconcerts her. It feels sort of wrong, that’s how unused to it she is now.]

If you so wish to see me in person, I’m on the bridge on the Blue Fish. Be mindful if you do, though. [A wry, humorless smile stretches across her face, and it’s evident in her tone.] It’s been awhile.

[And with that warning, she shuts the feed off there.]

✮ video.

[uprightness]

Who: Steve Rogers + you.
Broadcast: yep.
Action: on the starstruck, if you're inclined!
When: current.

[ It has been a long time since Steve Rogers has done one of these little network announcements, seven months, if you want to be specific about it. Some things have changed, others haven't. He still looks awkward about addressing a whole lot of people at once for something that isn't an emergency. The uniform is gone, however, replaced by a simple blue t-shirt and jeans and the shield is nowhere in sight.

He seems to have spread many sheets of paper all over the Starstruck's kitchen. Some feature tables of dates - undoubtedly a calendar in the making and others feature, well, drawings; each sheet contains one scenery. They would strike some people as rather familiar, a hand-holding tree, a sandy beach, the market of the tri-fraction system with people wearing clothes in various colors, the woods of the Lagan system, the Nebula lights and lastly, the mountains of Siourew and the Co’kal. ]

I meant to finish a few calendars by New Year's Eve but it seems I'm behind on my deadline.

[ To say the very least. He rubs his chin, there's a beginning of a stubble there. How many days has he devoted to this as of late? it's hard to tell. ]

I'm not going to write years on 'em, since it's different for all of us but I thought it might be a nice way to keep up with dates and holidays.

[ He frowns and confesses, ]

I feel like I've left some things out - and some of you have seen planets I haven't been around to see for myself. I figured I'd ask - if you have the time, you can describe some of them to me and I'll add them to the calendar. It can be anything you liked on any of the planets we've been to.

[ and, okay, fine - ]

I could use a description of where we're currently docked, too.

[ How can a person so big can seem so awkward? ]

Thanks you.

video. sponsor drop... FLAMINGOS EVERYWHERE GOD SAVE THE QUEEN

[edwinjarvis]

Who: Jarvis and you
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Tourist
When: Today!


[Jarvis had just been returning to the SS Tourist after a day of working in the water and at the bar on the Iskaulit — it's clearly the Atroma's doing, some sort of surprise for the butler that must've been quite desired... clearly... He stumbles a bit in the dark, confused, because when is the cargo bay ever dark?]

Hello? Captain??

Mr. Schott?

.... Miss Price? 

[He flicks on the main lighting system at last after a mild curse hitting his knee, and he's horrified by what he sees, as Hotel California plays muffled over the speakers. Not played by anyone on board, of course. But that's not the worst of it... No, the worst of it is that he finds himself... surrounded. By plastic...pink... flamingos.]



Oh... dear god.

... 

[He plucks up a note.]

"To Edwin Jarvis, to help with the homesickness, a kind sponsor has decided to offer an army of your favorite Earth creature..."

[He looks to the left. Flamingos. To the right. Flamingos. There's some sitting in the shuttle seats. There's one wearing one of his ties.

Jarvis wipes a hand across his forehead, looking to the floor in his shock.]

... This is the worst day of my life.

[One of the flamingos tips over and clatters.




DISCONNECTED. 


....

no, no, this is not over!!!



RECONNECTED.]



What in the bloody underworld am I supposed to do with dozens upon dozens of these?!

[hands on HIPS!!!! LECTURING THE ATROMA!!!!]

This is a sour waste of resources!! I would like a recall! Nobody wants your army of — of — hellbirds!

[... Outside of the SS Tourist, they've also peppered the ocean floor around the ship with flamingos, too.]