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+1 tragic grump
Mar. 10th, 2018 12:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vartexWho: Messer & you!
Broadcast: NA
Action: The Blameless
When: after arriving in the new system
( a: On the Blameless! )
[His brief stint on the Marsiva had given Messer a chance to wake up, acclimate to the idea of his new location- and with it, a tentative understanding of why he's even alive. Walking through the hall and finding the empty expanse of space ready to greet him through the window was at least a comfort, something familiar, peaceful, almost. It's not Ragna, it's not Elysion, it's not even Al Shahal (though that's a relief). His hand drifts to the back of his neck, feeling for the augment, taking quiet note of the new information pouring into his mind, and trying not to be overwhelmed by the disturbing nature of this place.
His calm demeanor is interrupted when he's suddenly teleported to the bridge of another ship, confetti and pudding on hand to add to the absurdity of it all. It isn't "his" ship just yet, however, and his professional instincts kick in, so rather than explore the rest of the ship he finds himself a corner of the bridge and pulls out his communicator, reviewing old logs, researching everything there is to see on the network. That's where he'll be until he speaks to someone with some authority. Rank and file is important, after all.
Once that's settled, then he'll venture into the rest of the ship. Find his room, meet the crew, gather intel. And... organize the cleaning robots, apparently? His new job is so weird.]
( b: A ghost on a ghost planet )
[It’s strange. He’s never been overly fond of crowds as a concept - he likes to keep to himself too much - but the lack of any is far too alarming. It leaves him an open target on the street, nowhere to lose himself. Sticking to the edges of buildings can only help so much. And being armed with one of the guns from the Blameless armory is little comfort. (He needs to find a place for target practice ASAP.) The way this planet functions is suspicious as hell, so rather than looting he’s stalking around the place, collecting information, and watching everyone and everything. He’s more or less waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pounds and pounds of free food everywhere, and he doesn’t touch a crumb.
...He should probably steal some clothes, though. This one outfit isn’t going to take him very far.
The way he wanders around with a quiet, calm expression instead of gawking at everything probably makes him look more like a native of the planet than a new arrival, and it doesn’t help that he watches every single member of the fleet that passes him by, either. So that’s a thing.]
Broadcast: NA
Action: The Blameless
When: after arriving in the new system
( a: On the Blameless! )
[His brief stint on the Marsiva had given Messer a chance to wake up, acclimate to the idea of his new location- and with it, a tentative understanding of why he's even alive. Walking through the hall and finding the empty expanse of space ready to greet him through the window was at least a comfort, something familiar, peaceful, almost. It's not Ragna, it's not Elysion, it's not even Al Shahal (though that's a relief). His hand drifts to the back of his neck, feeling for the augment, taking quiet note of the new information pouring into his mind, and trying not to be overwhelmed by the disturbing nature of this place.
His calm demeanor is interrupted when he's suddenly teleported to the bridge of another ship, confetti and pudding on hand to add to the absurdity of it all. It isn't "his" ship just yet, however, and his professional instincts kick in, so rather than explore the rest of the ship he finds himself a corner of the bridge and pulls out his communicator, reviewing old logs, researching everything there is to see on the network. That's where he'll be until he speaks to someone with some authority. Rank and file is important, after all.
Once that's settled, then he'll venture into the rest of the ship. Find his room, meet the crew, gather intel. And... organize the cleaning robots, apparently? His new job is so weird.]
( b: A ghost on a ghost planet )
[It’s strange. He’s never been overly fond of crowds as a concept - he likes to keep to himself too much - but the lack of any is far too alarming. It leaves him an open target on the street, nowhere to lose himself. Sticking to the edges of buildings can only help so much. And being armed with one of the guns from the Blameless armory is little comfort. (He needs to find a place for target practice ASAP.) The way this planet functions is suspicious as hell, so rather than looting he’s stalking around the place, collecting information, and watching everyone and everything. He’s more or less waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pounds and pounds of free food everywhere, and he doesn’t touch a crumb.
...He should probably steal some clothes, though. This one outfit isn’t going to take him very far.
The way he wanders around with a quiet, calm expression instead of gawking at everything probably makes him look more like a native of the planet than a new arrival, and it doesn’t help that he watches every single member of the fleet that passes him by, either. So that’s a thing.]
