001 // waitin' for the hammer to fall

[principality]

Who: Aziraphale
Broadcast: Fleet-Wide!
Action: Marsiva!
When: 2/20, afternoon

[He looks confused. Absolutely befuddled. He doesn't seem to know the communicator is broadcasting, either.]

-dreadful, absolutely dreadful! This is clearly not Earth, and I can't call up the higher-ups to ask them...

[He looks down, and gasps a little.]

Oh! OH! Good afternoon? Evening? Perhaps even morning? Greetings. I am a...er...previous resident of Earth- A. Ziraphale. And I would appreciate, er, directions back...to Earth...

That is, if this reaches anyone? Hello? Oh, bugger.

first labyrinth

[lord_wizard]

Who: Felix Harrowgate
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Marsiva
When: 2/20, evening

[The fact that Felix remembers the past four years when he wakes up is the first indication he has that something has gone wrong. Normally the lack of memory loss would be a good thing, but he'd expected, given everything he'd learned, that life would resume as it had been the moment he'd left his own world. Of course, things had been a bit irregular near the end, and he'd had a strange hope that maybe he wouldn't forget.

The network station first records him sitting up in his cot, a man dressed in a rich burgundy coat reminiscent of eighteenth century nobility, his slightly curly red hair tied back with a ribbon. Fingers clad in gold and garnet rings brush first against his forehead, then at his chest where the necklace Ashura had given him still lay, then patting against his pocket where the Sibylline decidedly still wasn't.

As he takes in the open space and the void outside the sweeping windows, the expression on his face shifts smoothly from confusion, to shock, to a vivid anger. He sits up from his bed so quickly that it upends with a clatter]

No! No! [his shout is shrill, edging on hysterical, and much higher than might be expected out of him at first glance. He turns in place, as if looking for something or someone to direct this at instead of thin air, then settles at shouting at nothing]

Damn you, Paradisa! Is is really going to be one last trick? Haven't I served my time? Haven't I done enough?

[His eyes, vivid yellow and pale blue, find his communicator sitting on cot next to his, and he stalks over to pick it up a rather obvious air of contempt. His brows knit together in slight puzzlement amidst the storming anger]

What is this? [The fact that he actually knows the answer to that raises more questions] Is the journal not good enough for you any longer?

THE GALA ON ADSUM (Mingle Log)

[serpentis]

Who: Anyone and Everyone!
Broadcast: Nope!
Action: A ballroom on Adsum
When: 2/21, Evening-Night



[And the night has arrived! Dorian put out an open invitation, and anyone who is interested is welcome to dress up and meet up for a night of dancing and fawning over each other. Make sure to wear your best, everyone! It's a very special episode of Drift Fleet!]

((OOC: There was an open invitiation, but even if your character never replied or has had personal contact with Dorian, feel free to assume he's let them come along or be dragged along by someone else! I'll be tagging some threads, but if you want a thread to be closed, please just say so in the header.))