driftfleet | § 1st Fairytale

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§ 1st Fairytale

Who: Jilly Coppercorn
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva
When: Mid-day

[Action]

[there's no surprise when she wakes up. No stream of questions or panic or indignant disbelief. When Jilly sits up, she only has eyes for the massive bank of windows and the stretching, open expanse beyond. Her boots are almost silent as she pushes up from the cot and moves closer, just...staring. In a moment, she might notice anyone else awake and wandering around the Hospitality Deck and, eventually, she'll recognize the strange little communicator sitting on the table next to her cot. But--for just this moment--awe wins.

Once she shakes off the initial wonder, those on the Marsiva can find her....anywhere, really. Marveling at the view from the viewing bay, poking at the strange devices in the kitchen, or exploring the baffling maze of empty hallways--Drift Fleet has acquired one curious, tiny artist (just barely 5'0"!), and she's determined to see EVERYTHING.]

[Network]

[It takes awhile for her excitement to settle enough to sit down and check out the communicator, but that only makes her wonder return when she realizes that it feels...familiar. Christy had only just talked her into buying a home computer last month and she really hadn't done much with it, and yet she had no trouble at all finding the video function on this tiny device and switching it on for a close image of a pair of bright blue eyes. The image wobbles as she pulls it back to reveal a small-boned woman with a head of unruly curls (whatever magic Atroma used to get the paint out of the strands hadn't done anything to tame the tangles).]

Hello.

[She smiles, shaking her head slightly] I'm not really sure who I'm introducing myself too, but I'm Jilly. All of these messages...obviously the few of us on this ship aren't the first to show up. You can hear us, too, right?

[she has more questions, of course, but it doesn't feel urgent. For now she's just...curious.]

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Loud and clear. [ aha, a rookie. might as well be pleasant and say hello. ] I'm afraid there's a fair few of us out here. And I'm afraid, as well, that you may be sequestered for some time aboard that ship before your join the rest of us.

Hello, Jilly. My name is Peggy Carter.

Edited 2016-01-13 21:59 (UTC)

[and-- boop! another video feed pops on to show a boy with piercings and dyed hair, and a subtle haze to his eyes that goes along quite well with the stereotypical club-look he's got going on.

the pointed ears, however, are telling in a very different way.]

--Wait, what was your name?

Nice to meet you.

[and she seems to genuinely mean it.]

Some time? [a beat] I mean, this is fascinating. And I can't complain about the view. [just mentioning it, she has to look back towards the viewing bay. A few hours has done nothing to lessen her awe at the sight] --but it seems a bit strange, having so few people in such a big place.

My best guess is that it's some manner of quarantine. [ so much information -- and all at once. peggy realizes this isn't particularly helpful. ] When I arrived, I experienced much the same. No more than a week aboard that ship only to be transferred onto another.

Consider it a waiting room. GP's lobby. Or a queue.

Yes, we can hear you. And no, you are not the first to arrive here. Not by a long shot.

[Wanda tries to make it come off like a joke. It might not land though...]

Jilly.

[She notices his ears and immediately there are questions and bits of excited curiosity that beg for attention, but she also notices other things--cheeks that are just slightly too hollow and eyes that are slightly too dull. Small notes that, for now, mean nothing...but get tucked away as she figures out what she's gotten herself into.]

What's yours?

A quarantine? [she frowns slightly, but it's more an act of concentration than concern. It would make sense, really, if people really were being taken from all kinds of places.

It was also one small mark against this being a dream. Oh, she already knew it wasn't a typical dream. As impossible as waking up in space sounded, everything felt too solid--to real--to be a figment of her imagination. She was too aware. A dream world on the other hand...

But quarantines were physical, not mental, and that would probably mean it wasn't like Sophie's dream city, Mabon.]

Have you been here long?

[Small talk, but also a kind of exploring...though she's not sure what the answer will prove. How long could you stay in a dream before it proved it wasn't a dream anymore?]

Nel.

[the screen jostles as he rearranges-- propping the communicator against something so he can sprawl out on his stomach, by the looks of it. he folds his arms under his chin.]

Jihli means, like... 'wiggly' in elven.

[or, more correctly, it means the sort of soft, gelatinous quality that goes along with things that are fat or infantile. apparently, elven is one of those languages that her augment is happy to translate.]

How many people are on this....show?

[Reality TV wasn't really a thing in her time period, but there's enough that's close for her to get the basic concept]

Edited 2016-01-13 22:45 (UTC)

[The feed offers up the image of a teal metal face with a horn-like protrusion, half-covered in a black and red cloak. The facial plates shift to mirror human expressions, and for the moment he looks pretty happy. His voice, is smooth, pleasant, and way too full of itself.]

Coming in loud and clear. Hello and welcome to the Fleet, Jilly! You don't seem too put out by the change of location. I'm Cayde, Personnel expert on the Bloodsport.

Edited 2016-01-13 22:38 (UTC)

Roughly five months -- give or take a week. [ ... ] Try not to be too surprised. There are certainly others who have been here longer.

[Elven.

Between his ears, his matter-of-fact tone, and the odd sensation of "remembering" knowledge she'd never actually learned, she doesn't even question it. Doesn't try to explain it away as some club-kid, lost in a fantasy. He's an elf. Of course he is.

Maybe it's that revelation, or maybe it's the word itself, but she laughs. No wonder he'd looked confused.]

I guess that really would have been an odd announcement.

That- [she hesitates] That is longer than I expected.

[...]

You haven't heard of a city called Mabon, by any chance?

[he laughs too, easily.]

Yeah, it kind of was.

...Guess your parents didn't know any elven then, huh?

St. Mabyn's, in Cornwall. [ ... ] But you don't sound all that Cornish, dear.

[If Crowley answers the calls of the newbies, it's usually with sarcasm or disdain. Not now, however. This is a familiar face, and it brings a rare genuine smile to the demon's lips. ]

Doodle Girl.

Took your time getting back.

[O-oh. That's...fascinating. His image is even more intimidating than Caboose had been with his armor (before, y'know...he spoke), but Cayde's welcome and easygoing tone go a long way towards countering that effect. Still, her expression shifts a bit more towards wonder as she stares at the image coming back through her feed.]

The Bloodsport is a...ship? [that's not a super comforting name.]

[that gets a laugh] I'm not. I've never been outside of New York. [until now.]

[But she settles into something more serious, after, if not quite concerned] So...this is...real?

[if that's true, does that make it more or less of a wonder? She's not sure]

New York! How lovely--

[ but her cheery smile dilutes. the young woman asks for clarification -- confirmation, really. and she shouldn't let things get too off-track. ]

In a word? Yes. At least, as far as it can be judged. Quite real.

[He chuckles warmly.] Yeah, but don't worry; the only sport we dabble in is poker. I mean, it's sort of a new thing so I can't say whether or not it really has the potential to get bloody ... guess that all depends on people's tempers. [Shrug.]

But come on - you're acting way too cool for a newbie. What's your story?

[Crowley always exuded a sense of cool. It's an image that would have intimidated her at one point, and that she'd be more likely to tease now (at least to test the waters)--but that smile.

It wasn't the oh-so-smooth smile she'd expect from someone who looked...well...like him. The kind of smile that was as much a part of his image as his shades or his obviously expensive suit. This was something else. Real.

She's half-expecting him to mistake her for someone else, but then he calls her that and, if it's a mistake, it's a strange one. Maybe even as strange as waking up in space with a sudden understanding of Elvish.]

You...know me?

[she almost doesn't want to ask. Even without seeing his eyes, it's a nice smile. But she can hardly pretend to know what he means, instead]

[her smile fades a bit, falling to an expression that's hard to read. Thinking of her family was never really smile-worthy, but it was just such an odd clash of thoughts. Her parents and elves. She could comprehend being kidnapped by aliens for a TV show (kind of), but that was just too impossible.

It's really only a beat, though, before she shakes it off and her smile returns--if a bit more crooked than before] That's a pretty safe bet, yeah.

It's short for Jillian, but no one has really called me that in years.

[She's not afraid. Not really. Nothing has happened that makes her feel like she's in danger. But if it's not a dream--

Afraid or not, she does get more serious]

If we're really--

How is that possible?

[she'd watched the moon landing, of course, and while science fiction hadn't held a candle to fantasy for her, she'd read more than a small number of books set among the stars. But this...this was something else entirely]

Ah, that's the question of the hour. And the day, week, and possibly the whole bloody year. In time.

[ her tone gentles. ] It's something of a mystery. We get yanked from our wheres and our whens, and we eke it out here instead.

[ she'll wait to reveal the whole reality show ordeal. space is enough of a loop to be thrown for. ]

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§ 1st Fairytale

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Oh no...I feel bad ;;;

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