Eugene Woods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
survivalistcookbook) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-08-06 11:52 am
survivalistcookbook) wrote in driftfleet2016-08-06 11:52 am
Entry tags:
i - action/video - open
Who: Eugene Woods, back again!
Broadcast: yes
Action: SS Wonderduck
When: August 5th, evening
action
[It's like that moment when you walk through a door and forget what you were about to do. Except replace walk with 'teleport', and replace what you were about to do with
'what possible course of events could move you instantly from your bunk to the bridge of a completely unfamiliar ship'. Surrounded by confetti. Back in the standard jumper.
Oh, and minus both crutches and leg.
One undignified topple to the confetti-strewn ground later - one made infinitely more comical for the festive music playing, probably - Eugene has the opportunity to take stock of his situation. Definitely not the Vanquish. Or any other ship he's been on. Too lost and put-out to be afraid, he sits up, finds his communicator, and stares at it flatly.]
What the hell, guys.
[No response. He's not sure why he expected one. Stare still vaguely accusatory, he opens up the network, grabs a cup of pudding, and settles in to dig for some information himself.]
video
So . . . epic mystery nap, huh.
[Eugene's managed to get to the kitchen, but he hasn't moved much since then, scanning his communicator and continuing his long, slow descent down the rabbit hole of what the hell happened. It's been months since he had to play the new-kid-in-town role, and he can't say he's feeling any more fondly toward it now than he did the last time, although for completely different reasons. Last time it was loss, outrage, disbelief. This time, it's just untethered, pure disorientation.
At least with anger, it has a direction. This is just nothing, icy-black as the vacuum of space on the other side of the hull. Dozens on dozens of voices on the communicator, and still, in every second they're quiet he doesn't think he's ever felt more profoundly alone.
He's made himself marginally presentable, finger-combed back the curly chaos of his hair and straightened his shirt. Probably should get up and make something to eat, but the gnawing unease won't let him stand just yet. Standing means looking away from his communicator, and he's still holding out hope that if he studies it long enough, it'll spit up some answer, something to make him feel even a little less lost.]
Shame on Atroma for not even giving a guy a recap episode. Can anyone tell me if I missed anything big?
Broadcast: yes
Action: SS Wonderduck
When: August 5th, evening
action
[It's like that moment when you walk through a door and forget what you were about to do. Except replace walk with 'teleport', and replace what you were about to do with
'what possible course of events could move you instantly from your bunk to the bridge of a completely unfamiliar ship'. Surrounded by confetti. Back in the standard jumper.
Oh, and minus both crutches and leg.
One undignified topple to the confetti-strewn ground later - one made infinitely more comical for the festive music playing, probably - Eugene has the opportunity to take stock of his situation. Definitely not the Vanquish. Or any other ship he's been on. Too lost and put-out to be afraid, he sits up, finds his communicator, and stares at it flatly.]
What the hell, guys.
[No response. He's not sure why he expected one. Stare still vaguely accusatory, he opens up the network, grabs a cup of pudding, and settles in to dig for some information himself.]
video
So . . . epic mystery nap, huh.
[Eugene's managed to get to the kitchen, but he hasn't moved much since then, scanning his communicator and continuing his long, slow descent down the rabbit hole of what the hell happened. It's been months since he had to play the new-kid-in-town role, and he can't say he's feeling any more fondly toward it now than he did the last time, although for completely different reasons. Last time it was loss, outrage, disbelief. This time, it's just untethered, pure disorientation.
At least with anger, it has a direction. This is just nothing, icy-black as the vacuum of space on the other side of the hull. Dozens on dozens of voices on the communicator, and still, in every second they're quiet he doesn't think he's ever felt more profoundly alone.
He's made himself marginally presentable, finger-combed back the curly chaos of his hair and straightened his shirt. Probably should get up and make something to eat, but the gnawing unease won't let him stand just yet. Standing means looking away from his communicator, and he's still holding out hope that if he studies it long enough, it'll spit up some answer, something to make him feel even a little less lost.]
Shame on Atroma for not even giving a guy a recap episode. Can anyone tell me if I missed anything big?
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[He's trying hard not to smile.]
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Well, definitely don't look at me.
Sounds like something you could put out a call about over the network.
[...You know if they were being remotely serious about this.]
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...Maybe? Has the Fleet ever had any real villains? I wonder what happens if the audience doesn't like you.
[See, Felix still 100% (...95%?) does not believe this is actually a reality show, but looking a possible statistics is interesting anyway.
He really is tilting his head to the side in contemplation.]
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[He's not exactly following. Does Eugene mean there might be people who would....what? Get too intense? Poison the food? What?]
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