driftfleet | Video - Turning the dial!

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Video - Turning the dial!

Who: Livewire
Broadcast: Network
Action: Anyone who happens to be on the Heron
When: 2/21

[Yep, the Heron's high-voltage communication's specialist was still glitching out. But as she didn't presently look like a walking Tesla coil, and instead looked like someone on the tail end of an all-nighter. Twelve of them. And siphoning off more power from the ship than usual had done nothing to fix that, so she'd resigned herself to being a lazy lump. A bored lazy lump. Currently propped up against her station and idly zapping the console with one finger as she cycled through what seemed like an endless stream of traffic. At least she was considerate enough- or more likely, lazy enough- to not transmit her search over the entire ship's intercom system, and was keeping her noise-making limited to the bridge.]

Nope. [Bzzt!]

Nuh-uh. [Bzzt!]

Bo-ring. [Bzzt!]

[Eventually, she'd glance up and realize she was being recorded again, but the most she can muster is an annoyed roll of the eyes. Something was definitely off, but it was arguably better than an angry electrical discharge.]

Y'know, for a galaxy jam-packed with all kindsa weird aliens, you'd think it'd be easy to find some decent tunes.

[...this was probably not the best use of the ship's communication's suite, but yep. She was definitely just sitting there scanning all frequencies just to find something to listen to. How any alien life could make it all the way to space travel and not have Space Radio was inconceivable for her, so darn it, she was looking for it.]

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Start droppin' stuff on 'em. They survive gettin' squished, congratulations, you got yourself a winner.

[Or a superhero. Or a supervillain. Either way, it counds as not technically a human, right?

Also, the mental image of somebody trying that should not lift her spirits. Not that it raises them too high, considering present circumstances, but it does make the tiniest little smile show up.]

I've been tryin' to fight 'em, but everyone seems to be against that.

[Which makes him annoyed and it shows in his voice. He doesn't get why everyone here is so negative about war. War is good! War gives him something to do!]

Instead, I gotta ask everyone.

[Alright, since he's over the fact that she's not quite human or spirit, he flips his video on and gives a half salute at the screen.]

Ossu. I'm Doudanuki Masakuni, the war sword. Who're you?

[The sudden change of heart regarding face to face contact get's a slight eyebrow raise, but nothing more than that. She just doesn't have the energy to needle people over every little thing like she usually does.]

So stop askin and just do it. This is supposed to be some kinda lame reality show, right? Nothin' drives up ratings like a scrap or two.

[She'd have probably caused a little mayhem herself if there weren't some serious logistical concerns involved- namely, not wanting to be stuck drifting through space with no way to change course. She'd have to keep any mayhem saved for special occasions- and somewhere off the fleet.]

Don't look a sword to me, kid. The name's Livewire- guess you could say I'm the resident lightning rod.

[Which was both accurate, in that she very well could make lightning strike her now, and a bit of gallows humor. Normally she'd be a little more giddy about that two for one combo.]

Ain't a kid.

[He's 630+ years old, kthxbai.

But he grabs his sword and brings it into viewing, opening the sheath just enough to show the blade before snapping it shut again.]

That's what I really look like, but since you can't go wielding yourself without hands? [The sword goes away and he shrugs, gesturing to his body.]

Without my Saniwa here, I don't got orders on who to fight or when. It's been borin', but not borin' enough to go smackin' people without askin' if they'd die first.

[She'll quietly take all that in, and go over it a few more times in her head, before narrowing her eyes at him to respond in the most appropriate manner she could...]

...that's the stupidest thing I ever heard! And I come from someplace where a grown man flies around in blue pajamas and red underpants!

[And for some reason, the Atroma decided she was a good candidate for handling diplomacy aboard her ship. Her. Despite that.]

[He shrugs.]

Dunno about men flyin' around in their underwear [That sounds really stupid...why would you do that? There's so little protection??? And there's birds???] but that's what I am, a sword spirit.

Unless you mean not tryin' to fight people without permission, then I dunno. Since I gotta live here and none of the other swords are around, figured it was the safest way to get my kicks in without killing nobody.

[Hey, super-fashion's a weird business. Some people wear underwear outside their clothes, others go her route and have a plunging neckline that goes past the navel. None of it makes sense and it's a good things he doesn't have pictures of this stuff.

She'll just let out a sigh of resignation and flop back in her chair and stare at the ceiling a while.]

Whatever. Not like this place hasn't raised the bar on weird enough already.

[One of her crewmates thinks Coffee is some sort of rare luxury commodity, okay? Where she comes from you can get a cup of the stuff for a buck and change. At a gas station, not some fancy merchant stall.]

So, what other dumb rules do you sword spooks gotta deal with?

Not fucking up the timeline for one.

[The biggest one. Really.]

Which I dunno if I'm doin' just by being here. We don't travel forward in time, only back.

[He scratches the scar on his cheek with one finger and thinks.]

Don't mess with your former masters or change time. That's pretty much it. We got a war to fight, so don't stick around in one place too long or the weird shit happens and you might all die.

[Keibiishi were terrifying, okay.]

Uh...that's probably it. So yeah, don't mess up time.

[None of that made sense but it's not like she's got anything else going on, so she'll try to make sense of it. Albeit in a distinctly half-assed way.]

Hold on a second Zorro [he probably has no idea who that is and she's past the point of caring]

If you only go back, how're you gonna run into some "former master" by goin' back further? Wouldn't the last one be forward?

[Where was Doc when you needed him? She wasn't equipped to deal with this paradox stuff.]

'Cause all my masters are dead?

[Like...hundreds of years worth of dead.]

I'm from the year 2205, and we mostly go back to the feudal days of Japan where the enemy's trying to change time.

So, if we go back to a battlefield I used to be at? Yeah, I could run into one of 'em. Or the other swords might. Their masters tend to be more famous.

[He pauses and then snorts.]

I know it sounds stupid. Try bein' me and havin' to live it.

How 'bout I take your word for it, and we just call it even?

[She'll just. Go back to trying to figure out the whole living-in-a-time-traveling-sword thing when she's a little more awake.]

This whole mess bein' real in the first place is more'n enough weirdness in my life.

Heh, yeah, that's true.

[He laughs a little, and the sound is rough, like he isn't used to it yet.]

So, you new here then? I came in sometime last month, I think.

[And that's enough to make her scratch her chin to ponder just when exactly she showed up. It's kinda hard to keep track of that sort of thing when there's no reliable day/night cycle and the last time you went to bed was years ago.]

New enough. I think that sounds about right. Still tryin' to figure out how to keep track of stuff.

[Alright, ceiling's boring now, she's just gonna get up and pace around a bit- that's gotta help perk her up, right? No]

I'd ask for a clock if I wasn't sure it'd show up with seventeen hours on it and marked up in some sorta freaky alien gibberish.

Usually once in a cycle, there's a bunch of new people who show up, or weird shit happens with the ships.

[Like those two ships that just mushed themselves together just a short while ago.

He watches her get up and disappear, raising an eyebrow.]

Clocks here probably ain't worth having, 'cause there's no sun to measure the length of days...

Hey, you okay? You always fidget this much?

You mean that confetti and lazy fanfare crap? Great. So, we ever need to know what day it is, count the kidnap-ees.

[This was a terrible method for keeping track of time! She'll brush off that question in due course though- you know, once she registered it was directed at her. The only one on the bridge. Shut up.]

Yeah, yeah- just peachy. Feels like I'm low on juice is all. Which I'm not- pretty sure I could power one of those puddle-jumpers for a few hours.

[In her case, that statement's a literal one- she'd been siphoning off power almost non-stop since this little spell started, and expending virtually none of it. But for some reason, it felt like she was running off an exceptionally low charge. Even though she was well aware she had enough energy stored she could probably jump-start the Heron itself in a pinch.]

Pretty much.

[Speaking of, he can't recall hearing of anyone new this time. Although he did see those two ships crash and the ensuing chaos.

But dang, gurl, chillax. He watches her for a moment and scratches his head. His captain's been seeing things, a zubron on the ring world wouldn't leave him alone for hours, he kept fuzzing in and out of reality for awhile, and now this? Maybe.]

What juice?

[He isn't familiar with that term.]

Like fruit?

[She is plenty chill, in fact, that's the problem. She's trying to get back to her usual overly-energetic self because everything else isn't working. She will pop back on screen, if only to once again marvel at just how often she had to explain the simplest things (to her, anyway) to people on this stupid space cruise.]

No not like fruit, you moron! It's a figure of- look.

[You know what, forget this. Visual aids probably work best.

So observe closely as she just points her hand at the nearest console and is promptly rewarded with a nice arc of electricity firing out from the controls. She'll fix it later- if only because it wouldn't do to keep trashing food sources. The power lunch only lasts a few seconds before she plops back down in her seat and promptly slumps back like the exhausted, sleep-incapable being she is.]

Get it now, sword-boy?

Yeah, yeah, I get it. And don't call me a moron just 'cause you can't use real words, Sparky.

[How's THAT?

...

Yeah, he knows it's weak, but whatever, he doesn't care.]

So you got enough energy, but you're still tired? You sick or something? Or is it that weird crap going on with the things in our heads again?

I'll call you whatever I feel like- maybe 'Sword-Boy, The Glorified Prison-Shiv Poltergeist."

[She's tired and veering hard toward tired and cranky, alright? Time traveling sword spirit or no, she will not be out-spited. By anyone.]

Probably that last one. We ever meet the Head Jerks in charge of settin this thing up, I might just make an example outta them.

Sure, if you think you can remember all that, Sparky.

[He honestly doesn't care what people call him, as long as it isn't an insult. Plus he only knows a few of those words. Score one for being dumb.]

If you ever meet the ones in charge, good luck. No idea what they are, but I'll help you kill 'em if that's what you mean.

[Have the laziest shrug ever in response, Masakuni]

Hey, if I can't, I'll just make up somethin' else. It'll work itself out.

[While she wasn't usually one for murder- caped heroes ruining her fun aside, anyway- that offer definitely was one worth considering.]

I'll keep that in mind, sword-boy. If there's a bunch of 'em, I might be able to use the extra help roundin 'em all up before the fun starts.

[Greeeeat. He rolls his eyes, but it's not like he isn't used to having people muss up his name all the time.]

As long as they ain't vital to whatever timeline we're in now, sure. Last thing I need is to corrupt something.

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Video - Turning the dial!

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