driftfleet | Open/Mingle

Entry tags:

Open/Mingle - Roll Call.

Who: Sam, and you, and anyone; tis a mingle of sorts.
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: SS Bloodsport, if you wanna find him.
When: After the planet is struck - Sept 22nd.

Note: Feel free to tag each other and inform everyone of whatever you need to, post-planetary explosion! I'll tag here and there, but consider it more of a mingle for people to touch bases about casualities and making sure people know they're okay (or if someone's injured.)

[Sam sits, triumphant in their mission but also defeated in spirit. Because yeah, they got the ship off the planet, and there's a whole civilization of people who get out of there... but he also is already too aware there is at least one fatality on their end already. Looma's last broadcast had been expected, especially after she'd sent him a warning beacon as the meteor pressed down into the planet's atmosphere, speeding, ready to smash the thing to pieces without effort.

Looma at least faced her death as one would expect, for her people. He imagines they would be proud.

Still, he sounds deflated at the thought, as he speaks a more leveled and straightforward response:]

... We've lost Captain Looma, of the SS Bishop. Umm... for what it's worth, she did it on her terms. I'm sorry.

[He's carried out the task of divvying up the blood from the blood drive, in case anyone from any particular ship needs it; there've been some injuries from shrapnel and citizen unrest, he's pretty sure. That's about all he can do, now, other than check in on the gardens... make sure Fie's work is continued alongside her, because it's important to keep those plants alive and thriving.

He slumps a little in weariness, sighing at his desk where he sits on the SS Bloodsport.]

... Role call?

Who's, um. Who's missing?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He gets this late, relieved for a moment.]

Merlan? Kind of mean, taking so long to give a head's up. [But he doesn't sound pissed; he can hear the weariness in her voice, so he just hopes she's not injured from that chaos.] ... I was worried. Thought you might've been left behind.

Sorry about the length of time. I pretty much just woke up.[She can't even begin to stifle the yawn.]

We had some last minute, ah, magical...difficulties that we had to solve on the fly.

[There's a long pause.]

I need so much coffee right now.

Yeah, well, if there's one thing you can scrounge up across the fleet, it's coffee.

What kind of magical difficulties are we talking?

Mm. True. Too bad I haven't the faculties, mental or physical, to attempt to make one.

[The pause is long and sobering and when she finds her words again, her voice is incredibly worn and a little muffled as she buries herself into the blankets a little more.]

We almost lost the teleport entirely with our last trip.

Hey, if your body says rest, best to listen to it.

Should we be checking on the teleporters? Making sure they're back to efficient shape?

[Sounds like they were kind of strained, unless she means a different means of teleporting.

He wouldn't be surprised.]

Mn, I may crash for a little longer after this. [She stifles a yawn though half her first word was almost certainly swallowed by the yawn itself.] Checking on them would be a good idea, though, especially if you haven't heard from them.

For the most part, we're okay.

Got it. Both of you make sure the other doesn't do anything to hurt rest time.

The worst is done; should slow down from here now that the immediate danger's passed.

[See hypocrite: Sam Winchester, who is going to tucker himself out with work.]

Ah, that kinda rest time.

[Her laugh is soft.]

Well, I'm not sure I can offer a promise on that. I'm sure you know what a ridiculous thing that'd be. Almost everyone parked on these ships are likely to be terrible patients with little in the way of patience. I'll do what I can, though.

[Merlan's voice turns mock stern. She may not be in his head but he seems the type along with the rest of them just going by his advice.]

And you, hm? Try not to make your own life poorer for your own efforts. Don't think I won't track you down and haul you back to your quarters for actual sleep in a real bed.

[Maybe she'd suck at it right now but screw it. She'd give it a try.]

Hey, I plan to have at least four hours. That's a sleep jamboree for a hunter.

Sam.

Make it six or I'm going to hunt you down and chuck pillows at you.

[She'd make it happen, somehow, even if she stole every pillow on the ship and maybe another one besides.]

... How about five? Meeting halfway?

Besides, I'd be all for having extra pillows.

Five and a half.

[Merlan's gonna haggle like she's in a market.]

If you want pillows, I can totally arrange that.

[Theiving pillows to throw at Sam seems like an adequate use of her time.]

Five an a quarter, with some pillows thrown in.

Deal.

...as soon as I can move without feeling like I haven't any bones.

[Some pillows? Hah. All the pillows. Prepare yourself, Winchester.

There will be pillows.

Lots of pillows.]

Sure thing. Don't turn to jelly by the time I see you again, okay?

I'll do my best to be in the neighborhood of not-jelly. [Somehow she just about managed to get in the wink, too.]

And you - don't be burnt toast.

Sounds unpleasant, so I'll definitely do that.

[And if you'll excuse him, he's gonna go faceplant his bed and try to sleep..]

[Don't even ask where she got all the pillows. Just don't. Merlan, with her floating pillows, didn't sneak attack Sam because he'd had enough surprise attacks in his life. But there she was, six hours later, tapping at his door.

Besides the pillows, she also had something that was pretty close to hot chocolate with marshmallows in hand. All of these things were good and warm and comfortable and they were the best of de-stressors.]

[When he opens his door, he's not really sure what he expects. Not a meteor anymore, at least. But instead he stares blankly at her and the floating pillows. Really, the hot chocolate is completely missed in the wake of the floating pillows.]

Oh. You're being haunted. By, uh, pillows.

[#sick joke sam]

It's an invasion of the poofy kind.

Oh.

Hmm.

[She wrinkles her nose a little and there's something flannel and plaid attempting to get through.]

What is it, my ghostly friend? [A plaid arm flops at her wrist and the collar flaps around.] Ooh. That's right. No plaid shirt, no entry. No? No...hm. Well, if you insist.

[The two cups she's holding go in opposite directions to each side, while the pillows seem to form clusters as the plaid shirt settles itself around her. She winks as she takes the cups back.]

I have the shirt, two cups of hot cocoa and a moderately sized army of pillows. This is the good kind of haunting, Sam Winchester.

[Oh jeez, Merlan, that's way corny.]

Where the heck did you even find that many pillows around here?

[Extremely corny. She grins.]

Duplication spell, I put a time duration on it so they'll hang around for a maximum of a few days but I can always tweak it. It's a shame it doesn't work on food. That was the first thing I tried. Studying with a mage has been amazing.

... I'll bet. I've learned a hell of a lot thanks to this multiple universes thing, too.

[Gardening is the big one, but shhhh. He pushes a bit at a pillow floating nearby.]

The food thing sure would be helpful right about now. But I guess keeping it formed and being able to eat it would be a little much...

Khadgar and I have been experimenting with combining his magic with the magic from our universe. Mixed results but it did save our lives on that last teleport. I think, as long as we have ingredients we can probably create something edible. Like everything, magic is what you put into it.

[The pillow boops his fingers lightly. Another one bonks his nose.]

Even the angelic kind of magic. [She scrunches her nose at him, knowing very well angels are a raw spot.] I don't know if I'll ever be able to teleport, though. Growing things, however? I'm pretty sure we can do a hydroponics bay or something if we can find space.

[Merlan looks well pleased by the thought and the idea lights her face with promise. A pillow nudges him gently.]

Gonna invite a girl in or what, Sam Winchester?

Ahh -- sure, no, yeah, come in.

[He motions very ungracefully toward his room. Let it be known, for all of Sam's cunning with sharp objects and his ability to fixate on spellwork and research, he's still awkward as heck when it comes to a girl wandering into his general proximity. He's not always soulless Sam, okay, we can't always be Mr. Cool.

The room is kind of plain, really. There's a hell of a lot of papers on a desk, and a small shelf of books -- and a plant, it seems, Sam has been tending to on a dresser. Otherwise, it's very much about as homely as an inexpensive motel room. Ha.]

... If you can't do any of that, at least you can make a decent pillow fort?

Edited 2017-10-22 10:32 (UTC)

Open/Mingle - Roll Call.

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[Action: 6hrs Later]

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[Action] /offers that joke a paper bag of its own

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