Eugene Woods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
survivalistcookbook) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2018-08-03 10:21 pm
survivalistcookbook) wrote in driftfleet2018-08-03 10:21 pm
Entry tags:
(i) video + action
Who: Eugene Woods et al.
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Aboard the Starstruck
When: 8/4
[Action]
[Within a few minutes of waking up on the Marsiva, blearily patting around for his communicator, and scrolling through the most recent broadcasts from the fleet at large, Eugene has a pretty good idea of what's going on. For one, he's not on the ship he went to sleep on. Another thing, these are a whole heck of a lot of unfamiliar faces on the network suddenly. And he somehow doubts he got sucked into a different spacefaring reality show.]
[No lie. He does stare at the ceiling for awhile. Mutter some choice words at it, and the shower, and his large tray of food in the cafeteria. But there's no point in getting on a broadcast and yelling about it, when it's obvious he's stuck bobbing around the timeline of this place until they're done with him, so he waits out his time. When he's finally deposited on the bridge of the Starstruck, he's picking his way past pudding cups and confetti before the jingle's even done. He wants to get down to the kitchen and see what he has to work with. When he meets his crewmates over snacks, it's going to be on his terms.
Crepes, maybe. They have to have enough for crepes.]
[Broadcast]
[A few hours and several rounds of paper-thin pancakes later, Eugene figures he might as well pop onto the network. There are still some familiar faces around, after all. And he's pretty sure he might even owe a few of them pasta.]
Well, looks like it's time to introduce myself to the class.
[He's sitting at the galley table, arms folded, still faintly flour-speckled. Chance meetings and some decent, productive work have smoothed his resentment down to a rueful quirk that dogs at the corner of his mouth, sits tired around his eyes.]
I'm Eugene Woods. Formerly of Earth, though a significantly more zombie-infested Earth than most of you are hopefully familiar with. It looks like I'm the new cook here aboard the Starstruck, so if anyone has the inside angle on where I can source produce, seasonings, and meat, I'm all ears.
[Not all credits, unfortunately, but shh. Details.]
As for anyone I've already met-? Heh. [He gives a dry little smirk, sarcasm by way of feigned ego.] Just let me know where they've been holding my fan mail, okay?
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Aboard the Starstruck
When: 8/4
[Action]
[Within a few minutes of waking up on the Marsiva, blearily patting around for his communicator, and scrolling through the most recent broadcasts from the fleet at large, Eugene has a pretty good idea of what's going on. For one, he's not on the ship he went to sleep on. Another thing, these are a whole heck of a lot of unfamiliar faces on the network suddenly. And he somehow doubts he got sucked into a different spacefaring reality show.]
[No lie. He does stare at the ceiling for awhile. Mutter some choice words at it, and the shower, and his large tray of food in the cafeteria. But there's no point in getting on a broadcast and yelling about it, when it's obvious he's stuck bobbing around the timeline of this place until they're done with him, so he waits out his time. When he's finally deposited on the bridge of the Starstruck, he's picking his way past pudding cups and confetti before the jingle's even done. He wants to get down to the kitchen and see what he has to work with. When he meets his crewmates over snacks, it's going to be on his terms.
Crepes, maybe. They have to have enough for crepes.]
[Broadcast]
[A few hours and several rounds of paper-thin pancakes later, Eugene figures he might as well pop onto the network. There are still some familiar faces around, after all. And he's pretty sure he might even owe a few of them pasta.]
Well, looks like it's time to introduce myself to the class.
[He's sitting at the galley table, arms folded, still faintly flour-speckled. Chance meetings and some decent, productive work have smoothed his resentment down to a rueful quirk that dogs at the corner of his mouth, sits tired around his eyes.]
I'm Eugene Woods. Formerly of Earth, though a significantly more zombie-infested Earth than most of you are hopefully familiar with. It looks like I'm the new cook here aboard the Starstruck, so if anyone has the inside angle on where I can source produce, seasonings, and meat, I'm all ears.
[Not all credits, unfortunately, but shh. Details.]
As for anyone I've already met-? Heh. [He gives a dry little smirk, sarcasm by way of feigned ego.] Just let me know where they've been holding my fan mail, okay?
no subject
no subject
[Not about the charming company, though!
No maybe a little about the charming company. Part of that might have been an honest request for information, though, so:]
It's been about...almost a year and half. Minus a couple months.
no subject
[It might be weird, but knowing it's been that long feels sort of . . . good? It makes the disorientation feel more justified, anyway, which is nice. And he almost can pretend he really did get a vacation from this.]
How have you been?
no subject
[The way he says "exciting" is really, really dry. Like they were everything except exciting. Lyuku especially has stuck with him a little. La'toli wasn't great either.
...And the implications of Nariba Relia. Man. The Atroma suck.]
no subject
So are we talking crushing boredom-? Or was that a 'wrong kind of exciting' sarcasm I'm hearing there.
no subject