driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Espio
Broadcast: Fleetwide - Text
Action: On the Golden
When: September 23rd, because shuffle!

[By now, everyone must be used to people wondering how and why they're here, and then perhaps throwing confused temper tantrums over being here. Surely the new passengers ought to be filled with questions for all the lovely people within the Fleet to answer? Or perhaps accuse everyone of kidnap?

After being on the Marsiva, and now being on this little ship, Espio has managed to work his way through what confusion he had, and now he's just... angry. If he could encrypt this somehow, there would be a very angry wall of incomprehensible ranting on the network as he vents, but since his ID number will be associated with him eventually, his anger is condensed into two simple sentences that express none of his feelings and don't help him feel better at all:]

That's the third time. Hope you know I hate every single one of you.

[No signature is given. He doesn't care to identify himself right now.]

[And on the Golden...

The confetti was unappreciated. The pudding... well, okay, that got eaten, because while it was kind of plastic-tasting to him it was still a free sweet. Espio isn't particularly inclined to explore his new surroundings, though. He's kind of still mad at said surroundings. His exploration of the vessel is therefore slow, consisting mostly of lurking in corridors or on the bridge, pulling faces at things, and shooting any fellow crew members an irritable glare rather than doing the sensible thing and introducing himself.]

What do you want?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I do fear more for the ladies and your ratings if they're forced to black out half your sentences.

You can't convince me you haven't met "ladies" with worse language.

And I'll start caring about my popularity about never, I think.

You and Renart are so very vexing. It is a game, Espio. One should play to win such a thing. There may be a means we can use to escape if we have the resources for it.

It's a game I'm not playing.

And even if there's some means to escape, which seems unlikely, just where the hell am I going to go?

Renart's said some of the planets are pleasant. At least we might find a way out from under the eye of what audience might exist. Although, she did tell me the lavatories and bedrooms do have some level of privacy, for your peace of mind.

[It's helped Monty's peace of mind.]

[With his limited exposure to reality TV, Espio can actually buy that. After all, there are some things that just can't be broadcast...]

Wonderful. New planets. Great. I'm so enthused by this.

[Monty rolls his eyes.]

At least there's life. Presumably of a variety that doesn't want to eat or parasitize us.

Edited 2016-10-08 06:40 (UTC)

You do know that both of those are pretty much guaranteed, right?

Somehow, I think it outside the realm of my belief ability to conjure that up for us here, and considering I'm the only one with belief between the three of us here, we might well be safe from any jinxing.

Belief alone won't change the world, never mind multiple worlds.

We're here for entertainment. Not everywhere we visit's gonna be sunshine and meadows. Where's the drama in that?

Some people do prefer their drama of the heartfelt variety, rather than the vicious and violent.

[Monty is one of these people, Espio. He is very much one of them.]

Perhaps our audience falls more into that category.

[And yet, serial murderer for revenge... seems like TV drama material to Espio.]

Some. And then some want to see monkeys in tights beat each other up, and yet more want to see the look of terror on people's faces.

[That was different. He didn't enjoy... well, all right. He'd enjoyed murder rather a lot.]

I don't think we've got any monkeys here.

(no subject)

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