driftfleet

Who: Nami
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Nnnow-ish

[This is not happening. Nope. There were happy endings, and sunshine, and portals home, and she damn well walked through one. Not only does this quiet, sterile place bear no resemblance to, y'know, a brigantine sloop or a crazy ocean, but she's turned up here alone.

She was pretty sure the animus were on the level with the whole going home thing. The fact the Adstringendum communicator is giving her nothing but static when she tries to use it is, uh. Not comforting, to say the least. She explores the accessible area in due haste, looking for anyone she recognises. Or anyone at all. And then she sits cross-legged in the middle of the one hallway and tries to get the communicator working by prying at it with fingernails, hitting random buttons, and eventually just hitting the wall with it a few times before tossing it away from her with a huff.

Not happy doesn't really cover it.

She finds the broadcast system, staring down at the controls suspiciously. She shouldn't know how to use this. But, well. In the absence of being able to do anything else-- ]

----

This turning up in mysterious new places thing was old the first time it happened. Where the hell is this, and what hoops do I have to jump through to get home? [Sweet, sweet sarcasm. But at least she's holding onto her temper.] And where's my staff?

And-- and who fixed my shirt?

[Serious question, that one.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[TRUE FIRST]

You're in outer space!

And your shirt must have been fixed by... I don't know. Magic space elves?

[HUZZAH]

[Also, it might be good Steven is the first person to chime in, because that gives Nami pause. You're a kid. Pretty clearly. So she isn't talking to some evil kind of space kidnapper or whatever, okay fine.

...bad feeling.]

Actual space, huh...? [She ducks a nervous glance toward the windows she'd kind of tried not to look out of. She's twitchy enough as it is. But she sounds a lot warmer when addressing Steven, anyway.]

Well, I don't want to be here. I've got other things to do. Do you know how I can get home?

[Oh, another new person. Nightingale turns on the video to reply, interest piqued by that mention of a staff.]

You're on the Marsiva, right now. Is this not your first interdimensional shithole, then?

[The Marsi-what. Nami blinks, and glances up at the surrounds for a moment. But it's the next part that really gets her attention.]

...no. I just came from one. I was meant to be going home.

[But come on, how many times can this happen? Maybe she's actually still in Adstringendum after all. ...really high above it. Yeah. What the hell.]

I'm guessing you're not responsible for me being here.

If I was, I'd be home myself. I'm not really the kidnapping type.

My name's Nightingale, and this is my second one, too. I wasn't even meant to be going home yet, but... Anyway, if you give it a minute, your implant should put the knowledge right in your head.

[Nami's eyes widen in alarm at that knowledge. An impla-- what kind of implant? But her fingers are already creeping up to the side of her head, feeling the tiniest little bump there.]

...you're kidding me.

[Nope. Um. Actually. She's right. It's a long time before she blinks, and shakes herself a little, giving a sickly smile.]

Nightingale, huh? Ah-- I'm Nami.

Believe me, I wish.

[Nightingale is notorious among her team for having an incredibly poor sense of humor, but even she can't be that bad.]

It's nice to meet you, even if it's in these circumstances.

What the implant isn't telling you is that the food on all the other ships is total shit. You should enjoy what the Marsiva lets you have while you can.

[No, can't you see how sinister he looks?]

That's right! But, um... [He frowns.] I'm sorry. I don't know a way home, or I'd be trying to go home too. Being in space is cool and all, but I have to work on some important stuff.

But it looks like we're all stuck in these spaceships...

We're still trying to work out how to get out of this one. And they take away your weapons when you arrive.

[Welp, that's three people who are in the same boat. So... this really is the same deal as Adstringendum. Her eyes narrow. Maybe she's still in the same place after all. In a matter of speaking.]

Who's "they"?

[She sounds slightly less waspish now she's just talking to someone in the same boat, but Nami's still seething.]

[Woah, hey now. Hold on. Rogue recognizes this one... and she's talking about it like it's been a take two for her as well, so...

Don't mind the gorgeous desert sunset in the background of this video, or the weird looking zebra horse.]

That place ya where before ya came here -- didn't happen ta have wings as a mandatory fashion requirement, did it?

[Excuse you I think I WILL mind it because what the hell why is there a desert and a horse--thing-- uh--

--wait, what?]

Uh, no. No wings. Not in that place, anyway.

...are you from Skypeia?

[We kind of have a whole culture at home that sport Luceti wings, whoops.]

[Oh well. One of the other weird and awful places, then. Rogue wasn't particularly close with Nami, so... she didn't really have feelings on it one way or the other, it was just good to know. A little... empty, maybe.]

Skywhat? No. [Rogue shook her head.] Nevermind. I'm guessin' the Helpfuls filled ya in by now?

[TV Show, space, etc.?]

Yeah, I'd noticed the food. And the screens and the-- it's like it's a really nice prison cell or something.

[She still sounds distracted, because processing a whole bunch of equations she didn't really know before is not only disconcerting, it's fascinating to a navigator. Give her a second.]

So I have a bunch of knowledge I didn't before. And staying on the Marsiva is temporary. What happens next?

So far all I know is my weapon's been stolen, I'm suddenly a pilot, and I'm moving ships soon. Oh, and apparently my shirt might have been fixed by helpful space elves.

[So kidding on that last part.]

I'm still getting the rest.

[People haven't been particularly direct. Not that she blames the kid she's talking to, he's a kid.]

[Heh to the 'helpful space elves.']

Aw, ya got a bad lot, then. [And apparently... not going to immediately draw a better one with her. Rogue was terrible at this -- hated doing it and didn't really want to improve.] Guess folks are distracted by bein' planet side.

[Enter the zebra horse into the background of the video again.]

You get suddenly teleported to one of seventeen ships, where you hope you get along with the others there, and you stay there bored between planets.

[Oh, totally sinister. Those puppy eyes, very manipulative, gj.]

That's not... comforting. [She's hauling back on her desire to swear here, just for you.] You've been on a spaceship all the time you've been here? Never gone down to any kind of land?

Yeah, uh-- you're not on a ship. We're not all stuck up here?

[That zebra, man. What the hell.]

[Hey, be nice to her zebra horse thing. He might look weird, but he's a sweetheart!

...okay, so yes, he looks really weird.]

Ah - no. [At least this was a topic Rogue felt comfortable discussing -- good news!] Seems like every month an' a half or so, we get dropped off on a planet ta increase the ratings. We get ta do odd jobs an' buy things.

[Shrug as if to say: It's a living.] ...breathin' the fresh air's awful nice after a while on those ships, though, gotta tell ya.

[....]

That's it? No homicidal gods or anything like that?

[Doesn't seem kosher.]

Wait, homicidal gods? Were you at that kind of a place before, too?

I bet. [She doesn't want to be here that long, but there's a sort of hopelessness that makes her think stubbornly declaring she won't be is a waste of time. She just came from Adstringendum. Hah.

Of course, I'm gonna zero in on the important word here.]

Ratings for what?

Yeah, kind of. More homicidal spirits than gods, but...

Does the name Thalatte mean anything to you? Or Deireadh?

[Maybe this is the same place. In which case, Thalatte's a jerk.]

Not those names in specific, but... There were a bunch of places like that one.

Does the term 'color-coded amnesia shithole' mean anything to you?

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