(no subject)

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Who: Bloodsport Crew!
Broadcast: if applicable!
Action: yes, that!
When: during the medieval-funtime world!

[aaaaay bloodsport how u doin'. how's life around the ship? what have you already dragged back from ye olde renaissance world? what trips are you planning? what's broken and why isn't it fixed yet? who's flying this thing?

mingle, talk to your newer crewmates, go nuts.]

Comments

Open as an open thing

[puro]

[Personnel office]

[Therapy is a fairly new career path, in Manolo's time. It most certainly hasn't caught on on his tiny backwater town, at any rate. It's not the job he would have picked for himself, but it's still exponentially better than trying not to get gored by a bull. He likes helping people, and he might as well do some good, while he's working on an escape route.

He can often be found in his office, door open, sitting on his chair with his feet resting on his desk. More often than not, he's playing something on his guitar. Sometimes just a random collection of notes that somehow work together; sometimes he plays something a little more recognisable.]

[Galley]

[He's not a good cook. Like, at all. But they haven't got one aboard, and food needs to be eaten somehow. He's rather dejectedly prodding what looks like a charred bowl of protein mush with a spoon. ]

...I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to look like this.

OPEN | any time

[birdsbirdsbirds]

GOOD DAY;

[he's taking a break from the medieval festivities to mess around in the bridge... under the various control panels, wrenching and drilling and screw-drivering things, pulling out circuit boards, occasionally welding something together. after a few hours of this, the screen he's under lights up, with a bright, colorful display! it's accompanied by cheery, 8-bit music. it looks like he's managed to start up some kind of... game.

there's a snake, and cute little pixelated fruits, and bright colors, and... the music can be heard down the hall, for sure. what's going on in there?]

BAD DAY;

[well, it was only a matter of time before his nightmares started catching up with him.

it's the dead of night. lights out. his sleep has been like the grave for the last few hours... until now, as he's started moving. restless. turning over. muttering very quiet nonsense under his breath.

--until he suddenly twitches awake. shoots bolt upright, panting, clawing at his shoulders as if to get something off of them. the darkness hits him a second later. it's just--his room, he's just in one of those cots, this is the ship, this isn't--

he glances over, holding his breath. was he loud? did anyone notice? maybe they're all asleep, and he can just...

he slips out of bed, almost silent, leaves the bunk room. he's not wearing anything more than sleeping pants, but he doesn't care--he just needs to move for a little bit. get his nerves to even out. let the dreaming fade from his mind.]

[limitstorm]

[galley]

[ if you haven't seen riku around the last few days, don't worry!

you aren't the only one. since they've arrived on the planet, riku has made it his job to be mostly unseen; he's stalked around and observed all there is to observe. he has to gauge any and every threat, and it's a good thing he's hyper-vigilant, or this would be really hard. but three days afterward, riku starts to show his face around the ship again, if only slightly. a flicker of him in the galley here, a moment in the armory there.

but it's finally a day of rest, and riku looks exhausted as he flips some crumbled-minced protein in a frying pan. finally, a stovetop--he's been dying for one.

mmm, beef protein. ]

[armory]

[ the best thing that comes out of wandering around the planet is that riku has finally found tools.

so you may be walking by the armory and find that the door is open, and riku's on the floor. and riku is whittling away at a small piece of wood. he's trying to still his shaky hands, and he's halfway through carving a little orb. it's like he's cutting the figure out of the wood itself. it's definitely not done, he's shaping the underside of it now, but he looks ultimately focused, even when it's put down and he glares at his shaking hand.

his tremor is gonna be the end of him. how is he going to make a clocktower with shakiness? ]