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driftfleet2016-02-20 11:28 pm
amicably_absent) wrote in driftfleet2016-02-20 11:28 pm
Entry tags:
Itsa mingle!
Who: SS Golden crew and any visitors
Broadcast: Probably not
Action: SS Golden
When: When you'd like!
[It's a mingle! So mingle!]
Broadcast: Probably not
Action: SS Golden
When: When you'd like!
[It's a mingle! So mingle!]
Celeste the celestial
[Oh, has she ever been trying to avoid this. But there have been a few meals of necessity already, even with them still at the space station, and now she's decided that perhaps she needs to branch out a little. Get creative. Mixing any of these... questionable foodstuffs sounded like a "recipe", if you will, for disaster, but eating them plain hasn't done much for her palette.
At a complete loss, she finally checks the recommended recipes, and the first makes her snicker aloud.]
"Asian" Chicken. Why do I doubt that very highly. [But she's still dispensing the necessary ingredients, her expression dubious and slightly disgusted.]
Bunks
[It's a bad day. Celeste can't pinpoint why, what's suddenly left her feeling so terrible when she seemed to be on an upward trajectory since her traumatic arrival on the fleet, but somehow getting out of bed just seems like too great a feat to manage. She's in her jumper, as uncomfortable as it is to sleep in, because she'd be fine in cotton undies and a tank top but hasn't gotten a read on everyone else's comfort levels yet (and her fashion money was not being wasted on pyjamas) - while the ship slowly reaches its usual levels of activity and bustle, she just lies there, not sleeping but staring either at the bunk above her or straight out from her own if she's rolled onto her side.
This must be depression, she thinks. It's like every part of her, her body and energy level and mind and emotions, are wading through quicksand. She recognises it from earlier points in her life, although she didn't have a name for it then, and she hates it.]
Bridge: With shipwide voice broadcast because I do what I want
[Celeste has her allotted work, and she certainly does it, but she's not exactly what one could call constantly busy. Especially not with two other communications officers on board. More often than not, she can be found fiddling with that smartphone-looking device (or a total mystery to those not familiar with modern Earth technology) and vacillating between frustrated and wearily hopeless until she finally slams it down and sets up a voice broadcast to her shipmates.]
Hello, my darling crewmates - this is Celeste Blackwell, one of your esteemed Communications Officers. While I've been trying to get to know everyone here, I haven't quite got all our positions straight yet, so I wanted to ask: who's the engineer on our home away from home? I've got a little technical issue quite secondary to the running of the ship, and I simply hoped to have a quick discussion about whether or not they could be of assistance. Obviously if you, whoever you are, are in the middle of a repair that could mean the difference between life and a very brief future as space junk, there's no need to do so now. But if you happen to be free, I'm on the bridge. Thank you!
[A very proper and formal announcement, albeit sprinkled with hints of warmth, which don't come through at all in her terse, agitated tone. Obviously she's on the hunt for Glitch, but anyone can answer to give her the info she needs, poke her a bit about what she's doing, or whatever takes their fancy.]
no subject
[It's the only place you can find Glitch. He left the Golden quite a while ago and hasn't been back. He gets the feeling there's somewhere he's meant to be, but it just slips away and within a few days, he's completely forgotten he's the engineer on a ship.
He's going to need someone to return him back where he belongs. Or at least stop him scavenging for food, though he seems to be getting on fairly well with a few of the traders. He's repaired a couple of box doohickeys and he's getting fed out of it.
Someone, please, take him home to the Golden.]
no subject
As he was passing by . . . Ah. Their engineer, the Scarecrow. Wandered a little far from the familiar, but that is his tune until the song ends. ]
Glitch, isn't it?
no subject
He looks up as his name is called, blinking and giving an absent smile.]
Hello? yes! Hello, have we met?
no subject
[ The meeting was now, their meeting was then, their meeting was a pebble in the stream of time. ]
Are you lost?
no subject
Maybe? I suppose I'm lost, if there's somewhere I'm meant to be. But if there's nowhere I'm meant to be, then no, I'm not lost!
no subject
I suspect you are meant to be on the ship. At least, long enough for you to realize the difference between lost and found.
no subject
Who are you? Do I know you?
no subject
[ How to say this without coming off as odd to someone who already is an oddity in his own right. . . ]
I am one of your ship mates. We are meeting for the first time.
no subject
[He sounds overwhelmed and disbelieving.]
Where did I get it? Why did I give it such a boring name...? Is it actually golden?
[He pauses.]
Hang on. You used my name. How do you know my name?
no subject
[ Leto wonders if Glitch can retain this much information. He needs actual bonds to make this work. ]
no subject
A ship. A big ship then...]
There was a sleep creeper. He got in bed with me. I don't know what else he did...
no subject
[ He retraces Glitch's timeline, slipping into the past. His expression clears up. A man named Sascha, apparently. ]
I don't think he, ah, did anything else to you.
no subject
But we can't be sure of that. And that's not the point! Creepy sleep creeper.
no subject
Besides, most people would avoid touching him on principle. ]
Did you tell him off?
no subject
Of course I did! And he got indignant that I was upset!
[Leto may actually be able to see it happen. High emotions, stress, something fires and then midfires in Glitch's remaining brain, a sequence that never completes and instead resets to where it was moments before.]
He got indignant that I was upset!
[And the same things starts to happen again. He'll keep doing it until the feedback loop is interrupted.]
no subject
I'm sure it won't happen again.
no subject
Damn right it won't. I don't sleep where he is. I could... make a thingy.
[He pushes his fingertips together. There's thoughts, sparking, hints of the former brilliance trying to push out.
Then he looks somewhere else and then back, blinking. Wiped free again.]
Hi! Have we met?
no subject
Yes, we have. Just now, in fact.
[ There must be an easier way of doing this. But magic . . . or magical impairments were beyond his skill to heal. ]
no subject
DG! The witch!
[He's off again, some other time and place.]
no subject
[ He'd shake him a little, if it would help. He can't use his skills on someone with a wandering mind . . . so to speak and Leto was loathe to touch anyone without their permission. ]