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[Once again, the Shuffle day comes and goes without a word from your chatty hosts... And once again, a day late, all ships suddenly receive a broadcast signal that plays out of every speaker in the Fleet. Even ships that are completely powered down receive the transmission--though it's not coming in very clearly.

There's a lot of static, no cheery jingle. Crackly, distant music comes through in pieces, along with a man's crooning voice, humming and singing an old song. Eventually, he can be recognized as Beau. There's a woman too, Diamond--who sounds wearily amused. It's nothing like the chipper voice that passengers are used to. These aren't voices for the radio; like the last broadcast, these voices aren't meant to be sent to the public.]

Happy birthday, baby... ♫

[Diamond, hard to hear:]

Oh you... Must we do this every time? It gets old, you know...

[More singing:] I dont even know your name... ♪♫ [A weak laugh.] --Very funny.

Though you never met... ♪ [A loud crackle eats the other sounds for a moment. When it dies down, a cold, robotic voice can be heard saying something, but it's far away...]

--Why is that light on? I think it's syncing up...

Oh. [Beau, for a moment, sounds more professional.] Get ready darlin', here it comes.

BROADCASTING ÌN͞ ̸͝T̢E̴̡͜N̕̕.̵̢̀<..

[The countdown, which was so clear last time, is almost immediately overwhelmed with sharp, screeching interference. The signal drops again, leaving every ship in silence.

...Guess they haven't made much progress on fixing whatever's going wrong, huh?]

(ooc: Atroma won't respond, but you're welcome to thread out reactions and discussion here anyway. Just another wacky day in space, right...?)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Right... [She makes a displeased face. Seriously?] That's wonderful. Really.

[Octavia rolls her eyes at that. Come on now.] Ugh, okay, point taken. Someone likely has to, right? Even in space this stuff would cost money.

[Not that she really worried about that at home.]

You're telling me. I can't get good shots when the power's like this.[He's teasing, kind of, but the flickering power doesn't make his job easy.]

I've got a feeling it's multiple someones. Automatic food dispensers seem like they'd cost a lot.

[He wrinkles his nose.] Oh, uh, I'm Shawn, by the way. I'm an engineer, but I'm still kinda learning the ropes as I go along.

A shot of what? [Photography terms are lost on her. She's thinking firearms.]

They're not that impressive. Trust me. [She tilts her head a bit, a slim smile visible.]

Octavia, security on the Wonderduck.

People? Scenery? Whatever I can take a picture of. [He reaches for his camera and holds it up.] I'm a photographer back home. And I guess an amateur one here.

Good to meet you, Octavia-- wait, the Wonderduck? Who names our ships?

[Asking the important questions, as always.]

[There's a long pause before she lets out a short, somewhat sheepish laugh.] Not exactly what I was thinking of, but this makes more sense.

[A snort.] No idea. Probably the same morons who can't fix their broadcast system.

[Headtilt.] Yeah? What were you thinking of?

[Of course. He scrunches up his face at the thought.] I thought my ship name was bad. We're the Golden, but it's like the Golden what? The Golden Duck?

Guns, I guess. It's hard to tell with people here. [It's not entirely a lie.]

It still beats the Wonderduck. I can't even say the name seriously. It's that bad.

[Now there's a scary thought, him and a gun in the same sentence. Shawn's gonna pretend that he's not staring at her like she's grown a third head...]

Uh... fair enough. Think we could ever petition for a name change?

[Octavia can't help but scowl at him now. Forget the ship names for a moment.]

What's with that look?

Nothing.

[But that's not the answer either of them's really looking for, so he shakes his head.] I mean - you're security, so it makes sense, but I'm not much of a fighter.

[She pauses, ~~checking him out~~ looking him and down-- or what she can from the feed.]

How old are you?

Seventeen. ["Almost eighteen," he wants to add, but that seems a bit unnecessary.] I uh, I just graduated high school.

Same here. [A quick pause.] Minus the high school thing, long story.

There's a lot of people my age or younger back home who were forced to become fighters pretty damn quickly. Sometimes you end up where you never really saw yourself.

[He nods, his expression sombering.]

Yeah, I--I'm sorry. I thought my world was weird, but the more I talk to people, the more I'm starting to realize that maybe I was the "normal" one.

[She gives him a puzzled, but amused look.]

Thanks for the sentiment, but your world would probably be weird as hell to me. I'm really thinking there's no such thing as "normal" you know? You did the high school thing, and I'm getting used to not having to hunt for my food right now.

[Now he feels kinda sheepish...]

How's that going, by the way? I'm used to grocery stores, and even I'm kinda thrown off by all the food dispensers we've got.

They're weird, but I actually like them. Better than what we had on the Ark as far as I know. Good variety, too.

Right? People've been complaining, but I don't know. I kinda like the fact that you push a button and bam, there's dinner.

Nothing bad from what I can see.

Until they glitch up and--

[There goes the power. For real this time. Shawn groans a little too loudly.] I'm gonna have to continue this later, but it was good meeting you, Octavia.

Yeah, same, I guess. Good luck with that stuff.

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