duck tales, oo-ooh!

[frigidaire]

Who: Crew & Visitors of the Wonderduck
Action: The Wonderduck
When: a mingle for the month of January!

[ come one, come all, crew members and visitors alike. come play terrible rec-room games or eat awful, overly processed food! or just mingle! ]

Comments

[frigidaire]

[ one morning, one might find Isaac in the kitchen. he's currently attempting to make something for breakfast, and failing. it looks more like a science experiment gone wrong with various 'meat' products and powders and gels. he's making far more of a mess than anything, so it might be wise to either run in the opposite direction, or offer to help.

if you're lucky to have missed the mess of food in the kitchen, though, you might find him in his bunk, attempting to get some entertainment out of the silly asteroid game. there are the occasional sounds from the game, frustrated little murmurs or sniffles. he might still have the remainders of a cold from their planet visit.

otherwise, please, bother him wherever you might see him wandering around the ship. the days on the ship are long enough as it is! ]

text...

[grounds]

[It's one of those times where Isaac's sniffling and game noises are loud enough to be heard outside of his room. Octavia's coming back from the cargo bay, only stopping when she hears his... sad state. Rolling her eyes, she jumps down the ladder to her bunk and turns on her comm.]

You have been challenged to a game of Hangman by OCTAVIA BLAKE! Do you accept?

Y/N

[The automatic game invitation has better texting etiquette than her.]

[frigidaire]

[ he's surprised to see the game pop up on the screen, and he considers it for a long moment. he doesn't accept right away, but instead flips through the com's menu options to send a message. ]

seriously. hang man. the game options on this ship suck.

[forsometimenow]

[Jennifer could, as usual, be found in her infirmary a lot of the time, checking her stocks of medicine and supplies, going to the planet to buy or barter for what she needed, and making up first-aid kits she could distribute to her students and to other ships.

Other times, she could be found trying, much like Isaac had been doing, to cook some of the food she'd gotten from the planet, as she was pretty sick of protein. However, she wasn't much of a cook, so her creations often turned out being... not terrible, just bland.

She was starting to come down with the symptoms of the disease that had been going around- it was inevitable- and once that happened, she avoided the kitchen and slept a lot, so if one needed her, she'd be in her hotel room on the planet.

Or perhaps you'd like to find her someplace else? Write up a scene.]

[grounds]

[Routines aren't something Octavia's used to, if one doesn't count certain processes back on the Ark. To her, they're almost foreign-- conveying a sense of stability, maybe even comfort in her environment. While it's not like she'd openly admit it, Octavia's realized she's fallen into a thing that's eerily close to one.

Days not spent on the planet consist of a variety of activities. She's found some choice recipes for food she likes, and she's taking her time reading through some of the books that have been added to the media selection. (Movies are being watched very sparingly.) But mostly, she can be found down in the cargo bay around the exercise area. Sometimes it's practicing boxing on the punching bag or drilling sword swings into her muscle memory. Sit ups, push ups, all those good old favorites happen, too.

Still, with how busy she can be, she's rarely ever declined a chance to talk with anyone.]

[feathery]

[Davesprite doesn't use the exercise area around other people as a rule, but he walks through it plenty. In fact, he passes through it twice—perhaps shockingly leaving Octavia in peace—before he finally stops on his third trip.]

Dude, you've been here for a while.

[grounds]

[The first two times he'd passed by, she'd been practicing boxing stances and hits on the bag. The third time-- now the interruption, she's switched to kicks. Octavia's sweaty, breathing hard, probably starting to stink, and not giving a damn.

She drops her leg from the side of the bag and turns to face him in one motion. A grin greets him, followed by a tired sounding laugh.]

What, waiting your turn? [She's teasing of course.]

[feathery]

[Hello, Wonderducks. This is your captain speaking. No, really, he won't shut up. There is a 50/50 chance at any given time that, whatever room or hall Davesprite is sitting in or walking down, he's talking. Probably to his nearest victim, though the fact he mumbles sometimes doesn't help the elaborate bullshit he's spewing. If he is understandable, though, he's curious, because:]

What are you doing. [Is it important? Can he come with? Does this guy ever sleep? (No, not really.)

Eventually, he picks up Salt Planet Disease. And...doesn't realize it. While it's already uncharacteristic he's spending this much time on the ship—Arslae is Too Cold—it's even weirder when he's rummaging around the kitchen in a tank top instead of a hoodie (everyone has probably heard him complain profusely about frostbite). When he starts sneezing—and it's strangely soundless, like bird sneezes—it sparks. For the more unlucky in his vicinity, it might leave tiny orange laser graffiti or watermarks on the nearest surface. A lot of this is onomatopoetic permutations of sneezing, curse words, and caw.

Later, he gets stuck halfway phased through in a door. Being sick with powers is hell.]

[frigidaire]

[ Salt Planet Disease is not fun by any stretch of the imagination and Isaac, too, is feeling under the weather. he's just been on the planet trying to find some cure for it (which he found, but it's pretty gross), when he walks past a door with about half of a Davesprite in it.

he completely walks past at first, but pauses, retraces his steps and stares a moment, a few sniffles in tow. Isaac's not looking too hot either, pale and racoon-eyed, never mind the way when he sneezes? his eyes go a bit too close to amber. ]

... You didn't tell me you were also some kind of weird X-man, Davesprite.

[feathery]

[Davesprite has been trying to pull himself out of the wall for several minutes now, to no avail and to his growing panic. So, of course, he goes completely slack when Isaac walks by. Like nope, nothing to see here, folks. This is 100% where the birdsprite wants to be. It isn't even a conscious response, just him not knowing what the fuck else to do (and also maybe trying not to freak out).

On the upside—can this even be considered an upside?—he has most of his torso and part of a wing sticking out, so it's a little less futile than it could be. On the downside, the jarring stop from getting stuck means he basically winded himself with a sneeze.]

Yeah, well. Surprise. [It's strained.] Who would have figured ghostbirds could do ghostly shit.

[thezerothlaw]

[Illness is vaguely alarming to Daneel in general, as he's had very little experience with it. He's pretty sure that sneezes aren't supposed to leave marks like that. Pretty sure. He looks directly at a caw, and back at his captain.]

Is this normal for you?

[feathery]

Ugh, no.

[He is so offended by the idea that he's sick that he's entertaining the idea that maybe he's allergic to Jade's fox. Never mind the fact he was surrounded by who knows how many of the little assholes at the pet shop.]

I mean which part. 'Cause the fireworks are within the realm of reason, I guess. Normal for my feathery freakshow.

[thebarkside]

[ newton finds davesprite first.

well - newton finds davesprite's feathers first. sorry, bro: this is one little arctic fox who is trying to scramble up the back of your legs to playfully nip at some of those feathers.

jade... is probably in earshot, but she'll likely be wandering by on her own very soon, too. ]

[fedupwithyourbull]

[Bright and early on the morning of the 10th, you can hear the jingle that heralds new arrivals on the bridge. Investigation leads to a girl standing there dumbstruck with confetti in her hair and bow.]

... What was that?

[frigidaire]

[ ... seriously. Isaac likes sleeping, he enjoys getting rest because otherwise he's up too early and has to try and kill time on the ship. it's harder to do than one might think.

but there's the jingle, and Isaac needs to get up for breakfast anyway. so as he's leaving his room and heading toward the kitchen, he stops, blinks a little sleepily to the girl. ]

Welcoming committee. [ he gestures to some vague space over their heads. ] Atroma has a bad sense of humor.

[feathery]

[Davesprite doesn't exactly need to sleep, but it takes him a few to investigate and he ends up poking his head around the doorway. He still looks a little ill around the shades, but who's paying attention.]

Whoa, hey. Been a while since we've had a noob. You didn't go knocking over your faux pudding dessert, did you.

[jamminshield]

[Steven rushes to the source excitedly. Let's say he managed to obtain a party horn at a way station and immediately blows it in greeting.]

Welcome to the Wonder Duck! I really like your bow!

[thezerothlaw]

Welcome to the Wonderduck. I am Daneel Olivaw. I'm aware that this is an unsettling experience, but perhaps I can offer some assistance?

[Yes, he's for real.]

[thezerothlaw]

[The kitchen is something Daneel hasn't paid much attention to, to be honest. He doesn't eat. He doesn't even have a sense of taste, not really. Still, his crewmates do, and in a desire to feel useful, he's trying to see if he can make something more elaborate out of the very simple ingredients provided. He is not a cooking robot, but he thinks he knows a principle or two. You might catch him in the process, or he might approach you with the result, offering a taste. Maybe he'll take a request.]

[thebarkside]

[ jade doesn't mean to creep, honestly. she's just admittedly sort of curious as she lingers in the doorway - she hasn't really spoken with daneel, and some people get pretty serious about their cooking. oh, well; there's a sleeping bundle of fur cradled carefully in her arms as she steps in, and she clears her throat softly to announce her presence. ]

Hey! What are you making?

[cajunspice]

[Remy’s average day is set more or less to a routine:

Grabbing a quick drink before spending an hour or two working out in the rec room, before showering then having breakfast in the kitchen.

Most of his day on board is split between general clean up and any maintenance he is capable of doing with his level of skill, chatting to others through the communicator or annoying his shipmates, wasting time with the gaming facilities in the rec room, and going over his stupid digital media he was gifted by their hosts (really, a digital origami book and no paper to use with it...).

At ‘night’ he is found experimenting with the food options in the kitchen for himself and the crew, including making the most of his limited supply of flour he had picked on Arslae to trial out baking and frying foods, hoping to make something half decent out of what they had available to them on the ship.]

[slushfund]

KITCHEN

Disgusting...

[this is the worst food of all time. yes, more than all of the fast food restaurants combined. processed can of shit after processed box of shit, hiruma goes through the large refrigerator, cabinets, drawers—and throws the far more paltry junk to the floor. he's never seen so many packets of onion soup and spam in his goddamn life. what do they expect him to eat, here, with no doubt subpar cooks and food that'll rot holes in your gut before you even have the chance to get launched out of an airlock?

amassing a rather large, scattering pile of the stuff, clicking his tongue in disdain, he pushes his face into another cupboard.]

This is some serious bullshit.

[sorry for the mess, he thinks he's alone.]

CARGO BAY

[when in doubt, exercise. after that meal, hiruma feels sluggish enough to search for something high-energy to do so there'll be a chance of sleep in his late night forecast. he's not exactly loud until he spots a fist-sized ball on the floor of the bay, then things start to become bothersome, throwing the thing at the wall at precise angles that send it right back at him. breaths are choppy as he runs full tilt, working off excess stress and the mutiny of thoughts trying to force him into a corner; he won't crouch and hide and cry.

not a fucking chance. not to mention he's only seen the crew members of the wonderduck in passing, nodding his greetings, making himself assimilate and learn the environment. there's no hostility—not yet—and he's taking it as a temporarily good sign.

when his steps start lagging, his toe catches on the rubber mat of the treadmill, and entirely by accident (a very rare occasion), he staggers. harmless, only the ball is sent off course, trajectory set for the cargo bay door. let's hope you have quick reflexes, or can take a projectile to the forehead like a champ.]

kitchen

[thebarkside]

[ holy shit, that certainly is a mess. jade stalls in the doorway to the kitchen, squinting at hiruma and slowly angling her head to the side, as if that might make it easier for her to suss out just what the hell, exactly, he is doing. ]

I can grow you some vegetables, if you want.

[ it comes in a deadpan, though she makes sure she's loud enough for him to hear with his head shoved into the cupboard. ]

But you're gonna have to put all this stuff back, first.

cargo bay;

[feathery]

[Davesprite mercifully has the quick reflexes thing going for him and swerves sideways, the ball ricocheting off the door and back to Hiruma. He follows its path to the crew noob with a look, which effectively parses out as an underwhelmed really, dude?]

Kind of intense for a greeting, don't you think. [He glances around the rest of the bay, before he pockets his communicator and wanders in. He is decidedly less orange than his icons suggest and mostly looks normal besides the crow wings attached to him. And, y'know, the sunglasses indoors, but those are a fairly minor offense in the grand scheme of him.] There are easier ways to take the ball game into the hall.

kitchen;

[frigidaire]

[ Isaac knows the woes of the terrible space food perhaps better than most. he would do anything for solid, warm food from back home that lacked the synthetic and slightly gooey taste this stuff has.

so Isaac simply leans in the doorway for a minute, watching as the guy accumulates a serious mess. ]

Tell me about it. I'd kill for a pizza. [ which isn't wholly untrue. he might do damage if it meant he'd get real, solid food. ] But believe it or not we have better food than some ships, so. Welcome. [ ... he should try to be a little less sarcastic, but here they are. ]