driftfleet | all aboard the ss blamless

Entry tags:

all aboard the ss blamless

Who: Crew of the SS Blameless and visitors.
Broadcast: Nope
Action: SS Blameless
When: March, or until we feel like a new one.

[It's a mingle! Get out of the car!

Unique ship notes for new crew and visitors: giant, unmissable scorch marks currently line the walls of several corridors leading from the cargo hold to the bridge!

Also, thanks to Kate, we now have a SWEARS AND ATTITUDES JAR displayed prominently in the kitchen. Whenever someone's being naughty instead of nice, they're compelled to deposit a few credits (or at least an iou) into the awaiting jar.

Also also, we are all still bunking together. HAVE FUN.]

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text:
Jesus, I'm just as receptive to guests as the new guy but I don't consider it especially demanding that I at least know their name and occupation along with some brief summation of their past. Christ on the cross - at least pretend we're legitimate. Oh - shit - is this live? Well, the hell with it.

action+labs:
What - oh God no, dear. [ Miranda raises a rocks glass of something opaque with a pinkish color. ] One thing you learn serving on the Normandy if that it's an organic substance then you can turn it into alcohol. This I consider an especially advantageous experiment with bubblegum flavored vodka.

[ She laughs when she takes another pull. ]

Oh, don't tell Luke - he's a dear and I'm working on something more practical for him.

Edited 2016-03-09 04:37 (UTC)

[If someone was brewing alcohol on the ship, then his sense of smell was going to catch on quick. It's what had him standing here in the doorway in the first place, though he wrinkled his nose at the notion of bubblegum flavor.]

Got anymore of that?

a. CARGO HOLD

[There isn't really any place open and private on the Blameless, so Luke opts for the cargo hold to meditate. Not that you'd know it, considering he's doing a headstand in the corner. Then again, if you watch closely, you might notice things beginning to... float. A few scattered credit chits, some crates, your keys...]

b. KITCHEN

[Man cannot live on protein blocks alone. Luke has been spending what little money he has buying fresh food for the Blameless kitchen. Of course, Luke doesn't really know anything about food that isn't vaporator mushrooms or Alliance-issued rations; he's mostly been buying whatever looked good and hoping it's edible.]

[This means his purchases have been almost entirely vegetarian. He's stocking the pantries and pulls a rhubarb out of the bag, staring at it for a moment.] ...Huh. What do you think this is?

[How did he know you were there? He never turned around.]

c. SHUTTLE

[The shuttle in the Blameless' cargo bay isn't much, but he'll take what he can get; he's spent too long grounded. He's revving the repulsorlifts when he pops his head out-] Hey! Want to go on a ride?

[He doubts this thing can go very fast, so he might as well have someone along for the joyride to keep from getting bored.]

d. WILDKARRDE

[Luke's schedule is pretty simple on the Blameless: wake up, complain about the food, do whatever routine maintenance (or completely unnecessary fiddling he can think of) that needs doing, go out for work, come back, meditate, repeat. He doesn't sleep in the captain's bedding, but on whatever bunk's free. It should be noted that he sleeps like the dead, even on the uncomfortable standard-issue bedding.]

If we have any uninvited guests aboard the ship at any point, please feel free to inform security immediately. I will deal with them... swiftly.

It's rhubarb. Don't eat the leaves and cook it with sugar.

[ She's not startled at being noticed. Padme has spent more than enough time around Jedi to expect anything else. ]

[Azula is standing there in the kitchen doorway, having seen Luke enter the kitchen moments earlier and then decided to follow. It's been a good two weeks since Azula's injury, and she's healed well enough by now-- if not incredibly crabbily. Today seems to be a good day. At least-- she's not openly sulking.]

How would I know? [It doesn't sound petulant or irritation when she says it, this time. Just bored. An indication of a good mood from Azula, to be sure.]

Honestly, Luke. Do I look like a farmer, to you?

[Ahsoka lets herself in to the Blameless to check on Luke, only to be greeted by a peculiar sight indeed. When she sees Luke meditating while doing a handstand, she can only stop and stare, eyes perplexed.

She says nothing, not wanting to disturb him and preferring to wait until he's finished, but her presence in the Force is clear as ever.]

[Cargo Bay]

There's few places suited for working out in a ship this small, but the cargo bay works in a pinch. While still at the station, he does his jogging on the station. Once in space, he's on the treadmill. But his primary workouts are all strength based. So lacking a solid punching bag, Logan has discovered that one of the low hanging pipes is strong and sturdy enough for pullups. Lacking any weights (other than his adamantium skeleton), he settles for lifting himself one arm at a time. His fellow passengers may find this a particularly traumatic process, given his lack of shirt and the thickness of chest and arm and back hair.

[Corridors]

He still stubbornly refuses to play the role of janitor - at least until the ship finally leaves the Starlight. Without the option to go play cab driver anymore, he begins to sink into his duties. Mostly this involves carrying around a mop, which he plants in the floor so he can rest his hands and chin on, while 'supervising' the cleaning droids do all the work for him. Every now and then one will bump into his foot as if to indicate he should help, which tends to result in him kicking the droid back and causing it to squeak and beep in alarm before scurrying off to sulk and clean. It's a tough job, but he sure as hell ain't gonna do it.

[Kitchen]

He drops another credit into the Swear and Attitudes Jar. Sometimes he does it even when he hasn't done anything wrong yet. At this point, filling up the jar is his way of protesting the notion of even having one. He's gonna swear and have an attitude no matter how expensive it is. So fuck you.

[Azula appears in the doorway as Logan fills the swear jar, then she leans casually against the frame on her non-injured side. Grinning. She's been recovering well over the last two weeks, though the fact that she stubbornly refuses to wear a sling to limit the usage of her injured shoulder has slowed down the recovery process a little. Still, she's not sulking anymore, and she can move around freely now without wincing or needing to be delicate about it. So that's a plus.

Though, perhaps maybe not for Logan. At least a sulking Azula was an Azula that stayed out of his way.]

Planning for your next misdemeanor in advance?

So, you made space-pruno. [ kate doesn't know whether to look amazed or horrified. probably a bit of both, to be honest.

she glances 'round the labs. ] Just promise me you didn't make it in a toilet bowl.

[ luke and kate have the same sort of idea -- except instead of forceful meditation, she leans (quite flexibly) more towards yoga. with the last of the chips she'd borrowed from clint, kate bought herself what passes for a decent mat, and she unrolls it a respectful distance from where luke is...standing on his head. alright then.

but when she kneels down to secure the laces on her shoes, she realizes her mat isn't staying put. first, its corners curl. and then like some slow lazy bird, it lifts off the floor. ]

Holy shit, [ kate announces her surprise, shattering the peaceful moment. ]

"I don't trust them," Kate nudged a small cleaning droid with one of her sock feet. "Last night, I couldn't get to sleep -- just thinking about them, y'know, rising up."

She had a towel around her neck -- ostensibly to protect her shirt from hair that was still drying. Picking up a corner, she squeezed the terry cloth around a section of damp hair. All this recycled, life-supported air had a tendency to make her frizzy; she didn't care for it.

( BUNKS )

[ what's an archer to do without a bow? without arrows? kate isn't someone overwhelmed by paranoia and desperate to always have a weapon on her person, but it would be nice to keep her aim on point. to practise, because -- without super-aim or super-speed or super-power -- she doesn't want her core skills to grow stiff and unfamiliar. it's about time to get back on that horse, but before she can do any aiming she needs something to aim with.

and that is why the ship's cook is sitting on her bunk with bare legs dangling over the edge. she's pilfered about a third of the kitchen's butter knives and, with the help of a little sharpening tool, she's honing them down to a fine point. nothing too wicked, but (in time) they should be sharp enough to throw at a mounted target. she works during the 'day', but the scrape-scrape-scrape of her isn't a sweet sound. ]

( KITCHEN )

[ hungry, blameless? kate's got you covered. mostly. the food's not great, but not is it utter slop. for the most part, she prioritizes simple dishes that are guaranteed not to make her crew barf. experimentation can come later.

throughout the month, she can be found prepping and cooking within an hour or so before the supper hour. and every morning she makes use of the single stove-top burner to steep some tea. it's not her preference (she aches for coffee, but only gets it when she visits clint) but she's doing the best with what they have.

and if anyone has any complaints? she'll point at the swears & attitudes jar on the counter. ]

[Azula, for her part, has been noticeably sulking in (blessed) silence since she lost the election to Luke. Though it has had one benefit-- not being out and about has helped her injury recovery easier, though she still stubbornly refuses to wear a sling to limit the movement of her injured arm.

Azula does have one up on the rest of her crewmates, however-- she's been here longer than them. She had time to rake in money on the Starlight long before her tussle with Logan, and rake it in she did. Once she's recovered enough to walk around with ease, she didn't waste any time going to the markets and securing a few weapons of her own. Loathe as she is to bother with them at all, if there's one thing her fight with Logan has taught her, it's that she can't rely on fire and lightning alone in this place. Especially not on a spaceship in flight.

Unfortunately, Azula can often be found sleeping during the day cycle hours. Less people in their communal bunking area to bother her with their snoring, and she makes most of her money in the underground, which doesn't really get going until the evening. She also sleeps, then, with one of her throwing knives under her pillow. Like all good paranoid princesses do. Naturally.

Without missing a beat, grumpily, she now rolls over and throws it at the wall near Kate's head from her position in bed. It's an intentional miss, but not by very much.]

Some of us are trying to rest.

[ kate sits a little straighter. her eyes grow more alert. but she doesn't jump -- she barely flinches, because part of having such a good aim of her own involves understanding when the trajectory of something else isn't going to slice through her head. what she does do, however, is set aside her makeshift knives and fishes azula's out from where it had fallen. there's a sizable nick in the metal bulkhead. ]

Careful, [ she drawls. ] I don't think any of us want a breach.

[ and it looks like she's totally keeping that (much better) throwing knife. thanks, princess. ]

Edited 2016-03-09 14:47 (UTC)

[No matter-- Azula didn't exactly Kate to just throw it back to her. Azula is not a person accustomed to worrying over money or things that are easily replaceable, after all. She'll just steal it or take it back later. Or buy another one. The important thing was getting the scraping to stop.]

A breach would be preferable, at this point. Why not just go buy some weapons? It would be easier than all this.

It's called frugal-living. [ kate does sound a little sanctimonious, doesn't she? but then again, she used to live the easy and moneyed life until her dad cancelled her credit cards and marooned her in california with a supervillain. ] Besides, I'm not making weapons. Not exactly. These would make some pretty crap weapons.

Well, I wasn't going to mention it.

What are they for then, if not weaponry?

[ how magnanimous of you, azula. ]

They're...practice. Honestly? I want to put up a target or three in the cargo bay. But the thing with targets is that you need something to throw at them. I considered picking up some darts, but -- [ she raised one of her knives-in-progress and coolly demonstrated the different between chucking a knife and throwing a dart. ]

Darts just aren't me.

I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss darts. They can be very effective.

Oh, sure. They're effective. Never said they weren't. [ calmly, she checks the edge of the same butter knife she'd used for her demonstration. ] Just said they weren't me.

I see. So what precisely is "you," then? If you had to pick a weapon.

Bow. [ that's easy. she doesn't even hesitate to answer -- after all, no matter what her misgivings are surrounding azula and her bad manners, kate isn't a secretive person. and as soon as she gets her hand on the right equipment, it's not like she'd skulk around and hide it. ] As in and arrows. I'm...an archer.

[ sure. why not. ]

Hm.

[Archers can be useful, too. Depending.]

Are you good?

Azula? [ kate leans forward on her bunk. she watches her ship-mate, and smiles. she's proud of what she's accomplished, and isn't about to shy away from claiming it for herself. ] I'm great.

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