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

Well, we do get ugly jumpsuits?

[ There's a weak almost-chuckle there. ]

I say we get t-shirts made at the next planet, though. I mean, unless someone sends us some first.

It's a deal.

[He smiles.]

What should they say? Any ideas?

I feel like "How the hell did we wind up in space" might be a little long for a t-shirt.

Could always just go with "Alexandria: IN SPACE."

[ The caps, of course, to match his dramatic faux-movie narrator delivery. ]

[That gets a laugh.]

I like it. Maybe italicized, you know, for perfect emphasis.

[ And a chuckle back. It's one way to cope, right? The one he does best, anyway. ]

Ideally, I'm thinking we go full 80s logo.

That's pretty retro, Glenn, but I'll go with it, considering that's my actual childhood.

Now all we need to do is find someone on a planet in another galaxy in probably another reality who appreciates the aesthetic, too.

[ And pivoting from that dumb joke - ]

It is ... a lot to get used to. But we've got the few of us from home, and a lot of the other people here are actually pretty eager to help, too.

That is the understatement of the century, Glenn, but I'll take it.

[And he appreciates the brevity.]

Thanks.

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