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driftfleet2015-03-12 03:48 pm
hymnals) wrote in driftfleet2015-03-12 03:48 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Adrasteius & you
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: The Marsiva
When: 10th-14th
broadcast;
[Adrasteius is not a graceful sleeper. His small body tosses and turns under the bedsheets, as though he's in the grip of nightmares; sweat makes his lips and forehead shiny. After about a minute of this, he startles awake. Rather than sitting up straight in bed, he instead lies still, stone still, like a rabbit sighted by a fox. For a brief moment, he appears vulnerable, frail, afraid.
But then his expression hardens into confusion and rage. His hands grip the bedrails, and he does not jolt up in bed but rather leap out of it, throwing the sheets back with such violence that they cascade to the floor in one big pile.
Ears pressed flat against the sides of his head, Adrasteius glares this way and that, grinding his teeth. The stark, mechanical design of this new prison reminds him of Tempest Keep, albeit significantly less colorful.
Had he been taken in the night? Bastards.]
Just what the fuck is going on here?
[He bangs angrily on a wall.]
I've done nothing, do you hear? Nothing! You have no grounds! No solid grounds, anyway ...
action;
[When he leaves the room -- when he finds that he can leave -- Adrasteius can be found just about anywhere on the ship, pacing angrily, hissing curses. He's got a better idea of the situation now, barely. First, it's clear that he is on a space ship, but it's certainly not of draenei design. No, this is another set of captors entirely.
If anyone comes within striking distance, Adra will shout to them, demanding to know the identity of their fascist overlords and what makes them think they have the fucking right to just pluck people out of their god damn beds. He has children! He has mouths that he must literally feed! His wife doesn't care to cook. His family will starve.
And, besides all that, it's just not fucking right.]
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: The Marsiva
When: 10th-14th
broadcast;
[Adrasteius is not a graceful sleeper. His small body tosses and turns under the bedsheets, as though he's in the grip of nightmares; sweat makes his lips and forehead shiny. After about a minute of this, he startles awake. Rather than sitting up straight in bed, he instead lies still, stone still, like a rabbit sighted by a fox. For a brief moment, he appears vulnerable, frail, afraid.
But then his expression hardens into confusion and rage. His hands grip the bedrails, and he does not jolt up in bed but rather leap out of it, throwing the sheets back with such violence that they cascade to the floor in one big pile.
Ears pressed flat against the sides of his head, Adrasteius glares this way and that, grinding his teeth. The stark, mechanical design of this new prison reminds him of Tempest Keep, albeit significantly less colorful.
Had he been taken in the night? Bastards.]
Just what the fuck is going on here?
[He bangs angrily on a wall.]
I've done nothing, do you hear? Nothing! You have no grounds! No solid grounds, anyway ...
action;
[When he leaves the room -- when he finds that he can leave -- Adrasteius can be found just about anywhere on the ship, pacing angrily, hissing curses. He's got a better idea of the situation now, barely. First, it's clear that he is on a space ship, but it's certainly not of draenei design. No, this is another set of captors entirely.
If anyone comes within striking distance, Adra will shout to them, demanding to know the identity of their fascist overlords and what makes them think they have the fucking right to just pluck people out of their god damn beds. He has children! He has mouths that he must literally feed! His wife doesn't care to cook. His family will starve.
And, besides all that, it's just not fucking right.]