Video - Turning the dial!

[shockjock]

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.]

Comments

[shockjock]

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.]

[helmsplitter]

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?

[shockjock]

[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?

[helmsplitter]

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?

[shockjock]

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.

[helmsplitter]

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.

[shockjock]

[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.

[helmsplitter]

[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.