Sam Winchester (
collegedropout) wrote in
driftfleet2017-09-22 06:33 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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?
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?
voice.
voice.
[ stern and stiff. she's in a mood. ]
voice.
[He's worried for Miss Carter. He's worried for a lot of people. Miss Looma is gone, for one thing... and others are potentially gone. He doesn't want to mention something she already knows, though; it's hard enough as is.]
I've been sacrificing the bistro's food supply for the meanwhile, until they're back on their feet. It's not much, but we've all been living quite well before The Melting Pot, so we'll do without until the next waystation or planet.
voice.
voice.
Oh, um. Oh.
[Jarvis is not so smooth at the possibility that Peggy has lost crew, not as well as Steve. So he fumbles for a moment, before he says more steadfast:]
That's not an issue whatsoever; I'll come fetch you.
[He'll... lend you himself, if needed.]
voice.
[ and keep an eye on him. and, oh lord, she feels like she has ground to make up with the man. wrongs to right. ]
voice.
I shall be there shortly.
[The question is, where will you be to find?]
voice.
action.
[But he'll be waiting. Perhaps even prepared to take the shortest of naps where he sits in his seat, and at her arrival she may be spectator as to why - he's dressed in his best, of course, as always, but his hair is a bit mussed, time lost to the concept of keeping it slicked back and completely orderly, and there's a bit of weariness to the lines of his face. It's not quite a common Jarvis sight; he finds a certain amount of sleep imperative, after all, and even with the occasional gripping nightmare as of late he's always made sure to get that time in.
But, you know. Exploding planets. Being helpful to the cause. The usual. His spirits are by no means completely sunk -- guy just needs a very long and scheduled nap later. He does offer her a small nod, polite and as routine as him picking her up to go on one of their little journeys back home.]
Miss Carter. Shall we get to it?
no subject
and she feels a stab of guilt. there are things she hasn't told him -- and that discrepancy chafes at her now. enough so that she can't manage a proper smile. that's easily explained; now's not a smiling time. ]
Give us a hand? [ she holds out the crate -- lord knows she doesn't need help carrying it, but maybe she's eager to give him an easy job for once. ]
no subject
... Though, the professionalism never lasts too long, in Peggy's good graces.
She has a habit of getting him to be himself. It's both lovely and frustrating.]
I happen to have two hands, so I believe I'm more than sufficiently prepared.
[He takes the crate, passes it back toward the back of the ship. His mind does wander to the surplus of canned goods kept in the different storage areas as emergency rations -- but then he remembers that it was usually their pilot who stocked it. He's not about to ask her to offer a potentially dead man's supplies, and certainly not callously in Miss Carter's presence. He's supposed to help improve her mood, not slap it in the face metaphorically. He clears his throat.]
Is Mr. Rogers alright? The others from home?
no subject
and in the wake of his help, she wipes her hands on her trousers. ]
He's perfectly alright. Tired, a bit sore, but nothing we haven't both ourselves recovered from with a bit of time and rest. [ ... ] I think he's humouring me by staying in bed.
The rest from home have all checked in.
no subject
'Do as Peggy says', I believe is the saying?
[Don't worry, Jarvis catches on fast. But also, it's a matter of listening to the heart of the person you love... He admits, it makes his heart ache, and he feels a little envious. Terrible way to be, that. He feels like a scoundrel every time.]
no subject
peggy belts herself in. ]
That is indeed it. [ dry, dry, dry. ] And for once, Captain Rogers has taken it to heart.
no subject
Oh, I don't know. I believe he may take everything you say to heart.
[Jarvis can relate.]
no subject
Be careful where you tread, Mister Jarvis.
no subject
In the wake of her not-mood, Jarvis is cool and composed.]
I am not treading.
[He turns, switching to the controls.]
... Merely offering my own... personal experience.
Perhaps I am envious of you and Mr. Rogers, if you want my honesty.
no subject
[ the words are out before she can think better of them. ana, peggy reminds herself. of the pain and the suffering and the proto-loss on jarvis's face. it drives her attention off the butler. until that point, she'd been staring him down. now she moodily looks the other way, biting down on the edge of her thumb. ]
no subject
[His voice is light, if not a bit sad.
He hadn't meant to make the air any more awful that it already was.
Perhaps he should keep his mouth shut.]
Regardless of how I feel, I've always been happy for you and Mr. Rogers.
I would never want you to doubt that.
no subject
christ. telling him at any point will create a crisis. she's certain of that and that alone. ]
I don't. [ she forces herself to tell jarvis what he needs to hear just now. ] I don't doubt it. Not one bit. Do be happy for us -- I will gladly pay witness to that happiness. But don't envy us. Please, Mister Jarvis.
no subject
Thank you for setting me straight.
[Optimistic, Jarvis! You must be optimistic. Nobody likes such a complainer.
Stiff upper lip, and all of that nonsense. He feels stupid for even frowning over a short absence. And to do so at Peggy, who has been heartbroken for someone she'd thought she'd lost... He feels like he must really make it up to her, for setting him straight. He manages a slight smile, starting them on their way with both hands on the controls.]
And at any rate, enough about my woes. We have people to help, don't we?
Much more productive.
(no subject)
(no subject)
voice.
voice.
voice.
Once I get my group somewhat settled, I'll come around.
voice.