1st Blight - Video and action

[bryces_pup]

Who: Riona
Broadcast: The entire network
Action: On the SS Blue Fish
When: After the weekly shuffle

Action on the Blue Fish

[You've got an armored lady on board, Blue Fishies. Unarmed, of course, but that makes her all the warier as she glances around uneasily. Too much of this is foreign to her. The fact that there's something in her head telling her what some of it is makes it worse. Like the taint in her telling her when darkspawn were near, but much more potent and a lot more invasive. So having the armor on may seem unnecessary, but it's all she has and it makes her feel a little safer. Much like a child clinging to a stuffed animal. A metal one that could break a jaw.

She moves over to the food set out, scrunching her nose at it. Maker, none of it looks right. Not that Fereldan food was the be all and end all of fine cuisine, but at least there were recognizable ingredients in it. This was... not food.

Her upbringing obliged her to at least take some and try it. Though she was relatively sure that her lessons didn't account for being kidnapped and offered not-food to her...]


Video

[So after settling in and having had time to take stock, Riona finally feels comfortable in attempting this messaging thing. With any luck, someone else from Ferelden - or Thedas even - got brought here as well and could perhaps explain a bit more what was going on.

Or, honestly, just conversing with someone else from her world would be a relief at this rate.]

Assuming this isn't the worst drunken stupor or dream in history - and I'm still not entirely certain it isn't - I understand I am to be here for some time. And that I am to work on this ship [The word is said with a hint of skepticism. Ships float on water, not fly.] in that interim.

Maker's breath.

[She heaves a sigh.] Okay, fine. Well, no, it's not fine but it seems I have little recourse in that regard right now. I mean, did you really have to take my sword and shield? I don't use it willy-nilly.

Anyway, is there... truly no way to send word back to our homes? Not even a message? [Her next words are considered carefully.] My absence will be noted very quickly, and likely would cause a panic amongst certain parties. I only wish to avoid that. [And stop her husband from launching a huge search campaign for her.] Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated. Thank you kindly. [She forces a polite smile before she fumbles with the device, finally getting it to shut off after a moment's struggle.]

Comments

[unconfines]

["Cousland" rings a bell with him in that I-might-have-heard-this-name-before-but-also-maybe-not sort of way— his Warden-Commander is an Amell, but the story of the Cousland massacre most likely floated around bars he rolled through in his time outside.]

Oh, you know. It's rough, but I manage. [He waves one hand at the camera.] Welcoming people at the first confetti pop. Counting shuttles. Arranging workplace nameday parties. Very important stuff. I have a little plaque and everything!

[Incidentally, it's the actually important stuff he won't mention.]

[bryces_pup]

[It might be for the best he doesn't. She really doesn't like talking about that whole massacre bit.]

Well it's not an important job without a plaque! Or some other little thing announcing to everyone what they probably already know. But I'm sure your crew appreciates your tireless efforts. Not just anyone can arrange those parties and keep all the dates straight.

[unconfines]

Exactly. Morale is a thing, or so they tell me. And we haven't even had anything dramatic happen for ages, I've got to keep busy somehow.

[bryces_pup]

Oh, it's definitely a thing. Best judged by how much everyone is complaining.

Well that just won't do. Makes for rather boring entertainment, doesn't it? Isn't that the whole point of us being here?

[unconfines]

So they keep saying! But did you know [he leans conspiratorially towards the camera, like this could be in any way private without, like, actually making it private] we hardly even get any fan letters anymore. Perhaps the worlds decided we were boring ages ago. All— however many there are of them.

[bryces_pup]

Fan letters? Like... the audience people actually wrote to all of you? [There is so much that doesn't make sense about that.] How in the Maker did they get here? I don't think crows can fly in this, and certainly not fast enough to catch up to these ships.

[unconfines]

You're asking the wrong person if you want the answer to that, I'm afraid. Though I can tell you that no crow would last very long out there anyhow. Vast empty void, and all that.

[Technology, how does it work.]

You've seen the little messages that people can send back and forth on the communicators, yes? Can't be much different than that, can it?

[bryces_pup]

That is true. Not that I... get how that works, but I can see it well enough.

[TECHNOLOGY IS WEIRD.]

Anyway, I suppose I've kept you from your essential captain-y duties for long enough. You do what you must, I'll... sit here being confused for a little while longer, and then we meet for those drinks?

[unconfines]

[He tips an imaginary hat at her.]

Til then! Don't worry, there's likely to be a whole brigade of people here ready to answer whatever questions you might have. And later I'll be there to help you drink away the ridiculous ones! [Brightly:] I'm a helper.