driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Aaron
Broadcast: Network - OTA
Action: Anywhere aboard the SS Bloodsport
When: Saturday

ACTION » SS BLOODSPORT

[The new arrival on the bridge makes a quick getaway, out of the lights and the sounds of the area and into the corridor, slipping as best he can with his 6'1" frame into the shadows just on the other side of the doorway (but not before pocketing a couple of those pudding cups, one can never be too greedy when it comes to sources of food).]

This can't be real.

[The words are uttered just above a whisper before he reaches to his belt, where an empty knife case hangs, and his slightly uneasy disbelief is quickly replaced with panic as he pats his pockets (however unlikely it is that he absentmindedly slipped a big knife into a pocket instead of his holster). He takes a steadying breath, eyes darting about before heading forward warily, slipping into the kitchen/galley area. Seeing no one else around after checking several hiding places, anyone who investigates the sounds of opening drawers will find a man with curly, dirty blood hair rifling through the utensil drawers looking for...something.

Once he's found a steak knife (which is better than nothing, thanks), he's going to continue exploring every door he can open on this ship, so the odds of him stumbling upon another crew member are pretty high. No matter what state he finds them in, he raises his hands to show he means no harm.]

I don't want any trouble. I just need some answers. My name is Aaron.

NETWORK BROADCAST » AUDIO

[Later, once he's gotten his bearings more he makes the following broadcast, careful and diplomatic in his wording. He still doesn't know what to make of this place or the people in it, and he doesn't blindly trust people the way he used to.]

Hello. I've only just arrived recently, and I'm under the impression many of you have been here for much longer. If you can offer me any sort of insight into this setup, I'd really appreciate it. To start things off slow and hopefully on the right foot, my name's Aaron, and I've been assigned as a Communications Officer on the SS Bloodsport.

Also, if the following names sound familiar, or you happen to own any of them, I'd be happy to hear from you:

Rick Grimes. Daryl Dixon. Glenn Rhee. Maggie Greene. Abraham Ford. Rosita Espinosa. Michonne. Carl Grimes. Sasha Williams.

[He lets a moment pass before ending his broadcast.]

Thank you for time and any help you can offer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That maybe breaking isn't what we need to do?

[He doesn't know much of anything about space ships...except what he knows from science fiction, but he knows a little about boats, at least enough to throw out a suggestion.]

There has to be...I don't know, vents? Some sort of system, and those would require access points.

You'd think so, but if it doesn't want you to go some place, you're not going to.

We're not just sitting here with our thumbs up our asses. [ Bluntly. ]

Actively? What if it doesn't know?

[He winces at Carl's retort, nodding.]

I...I know you're not. Glenn's here. And Daryl. If there was a way to get to Maggie, you would have. I just...

[He cares about her, too, okay.]

...that doesn't mean I have to like it.

Edited 2018-11-19 05:32 (UTC)

You know we're being watched, right? Listened to? That they can control us if they want?

[ Carl taps behind his ear where the augment is. ]

Anybody explain what these do, yet?

[He'd heard about a lot of it...except that middle bit, and he frowned as Carl continued.]

What do you by control us?

They call them glitches, but they can make us change or make us forget. Sometimes it's harmless, but those other times? They're not good people.

...what about the other times, Carl?

[ He shakes his head, looking serious. ] People get hurt.

I'm going to need more information than that, Carl. This sounds important.

You'll probably see for yourself soon enough, the Atroma don't really stay quiet for long one way or another.

If you're curious, the network probably has documentation pretty far back.

[ Clearly he doesn't want to talk about it.]

[And Aaron can read a room. He's not going to push anymore an this for now.]

Okay. [He nods.] So, which one of these ships is yours?

[He's actually a little surprised they haven't all come together. If Rick were here, he'd probably have made it a requirement.]

[ God bless Aaron and his capability in being able to feel out a situation. ]

I'm on the Red Fish.

...the Red Fish? [He cracks a smile at the name.] Is there a Blue Fish?

Yeah, but no One Fish or Two Fish.

[He nods, restraining a smile and crossing his arms.] What about an Old Fish or a New Fish?

If you want to get technical, if you were assigned one of those ships, you'd be a new fish.

Technically, yes. [He laughs.] But instead, I was assigned to a ship that sounds like it should hold gladiatorial battles.

At least your ship doesn't look like it held gladiatorial battles?

...Do I even want to know?

[ Carl shrugs. ]

Most of it was here before I got here.

Most of it?

You know how it is. People want what you have, and you defend it.

[That actually explained a lot about why there were ship mounted guns.]

...raiders. Or... [And he smirks.] Or would we call them pirates?

You can call them whatever you want, most of them weren't anything after that.

[ Because honestly, anyone who tried to take what they had was eliminated. ]

[Aaron flexes his jaw for a moment, and nods resolutely.]

Did that happen fleet-wide?

action;; Bloodsport

postocular - 2018-12-15 16:41 (UTC) - Expand

customplates - 2018-12-17 23:07 (UTC) - Expand

postocular - 2018-12-17 23:09 (UTC) - Expand

customplates - 2018-12-22 18:15 (UTC) - Expand

postocular - 2019-01-01 01:20 (UTC) - Expand