[Video]

[tallasaking]

[Tyrion is, not surprisingly, at the Malum. What might be surprising is that he is absolutely drunk off his small-man arse. He looks blearily into the video camera, and states in a Very Slurred Tone.]

The Lords of Atroma can suck my gigantic cock.

[He paused, then added darkly.]

And for whomever who cares about these things, and why bother? Lady Sansa Stark has left us once more. I have no idea who she shall come back as - perhaps as a little girl or the Queen of the North. Either way ... she will not be the Sansa I knew.

[He took another long, Long drink off the glass of wine in front of him, before sighing.]

...Don't bother hunting me down - I am at the Malum. I plan on keeping my normal habits of ...what is the word, depressing thoughts until I pass out here on my stool.

[He waves at the camera.] Tah, Fleeters. Until I regain consciousness once more.

(i) video + action

[survivalistcookbook]

Who: Eugene Woods et al.
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Aboard the Starstruck
When: 8/4

[Action]

[Within a few minutes of waking up on the Marsiva, blearily patting around for his communicator, and scrolling through the most recent broadcasts from the fleet at large, Eugene has a pretty good idea of what's going on. For one, he's not on the ship he went to sleep on. Another thing, these are a whole heck of a lot of unfamiliar faces on the network suddenly. And he somehow doubts he got sucked into a different spacefaring reality show.]

[No lie. He does stare at the ceiling for awhile. Mutter some choice words at it, and the shower, and his large tray of food in the cafeteria. But there's no point in getting on a broadcast and yelling about it, when it's obvious he's stuck bobbing around the timeline of this place until they're done with him, so he waits out his time. When he's finally deposited on the bridge of the Starstruck, he's picking his way past pudding cups and confetti before the jingle's even done. He wants to get down to the kitchen and see what he has to work with. When he meets his crewmates over snacks, it's going to be on his terms.

Crepes, maybe. They have to have enough for crepes.]



[Broadcast]

[A few hours and several rounds of paper-thin pancakes later, Eugene figures he might as well pop onto the network. There are still some familiar faces around, after all. And he's pretty sure he might even owe a few of them pasta.]

Well, looks like it's time to introduce myself to the class.

[He's sitting at the galley table, arms folded, still faintly flour-speckled. Chance meetings and some decent, productive work have smoothed his resentment down to a rueful quirk that dogs at the corner of his mouth, sits tired around his eyes.]

I'm Eugene Woods. Formerly of Earth, though a significantly more zombie-infested Earth than most of you are hopefully familiar with. It looks like I'm the new cook here aboard the Starstruck, so if anyone has the inside angle on where I can source produce, seasonings, and meat, I'm all ears.

[Not all credits, unfortunately, but shh. Details.]

As for anyone I've already met-? Heh. [He gives a dry little smirk, sarcasm by way of feigned ego.] Just let me know where they've been holding my fan mail, okay?

[ you can't do that right now. ]

[spellsteal]

Who: Belthazar and you!
Broadcast: Y
Action: The Goldstone.
When: After the shuffle

( Read more... )

[broadcast; video]
[Once he's had dinner started (because Light knows these people have probably never had a decent meal in their lives), he sorts out his new room and his personal shopping list. If he's going down to whatever planet they're docked at, he wants to make sure he gets the necessities-- cooking utensils, meat for the freezer, fresh vegetables, spices, and whatever else they can possibly grow on their own.

As always he's doing twenty things at once, but he pauses because he really needs to see how much time has passed and if anyone he knows is still here. He fidgets a little with the device until he can turn it on again.

He hasn't grown up too much since he was last here, with a healthy amount of baby fat still in his cheeks, but his eyes are a bright gold instead of their old radioactive green.]

My name is Belthazar. I was here, once, but between all the time that's passed at home and coming back, I haven't figured out how long it's been. The food still tastes like a different four-letter word, so I suppose things haven't changed all that much.

... I feel as if I'm waking from a very long dream, but I'm not sure which one's the dream. [He runs a hand through his bangs.] Er, right, my list. [He fumbles a bit with a pen and paper and tries to pretend he isn't a graceless creature.]

Does the Iskaulit still have a greenhouse? And, is there a place in this system where I can shop for a kitchen?

[He has more questions, but food is always a good place to start.]