wager (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
siegel) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2014-10-24 05:32 pm
siegel) wrote in driftfleet2014-10-24 05:32 pm
Entry tags:
uno
Who: Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, & errbody.
Broadcast: fleet-wide, video
Action: marsiva funtimes
When: oct. 22, night (lil backdated)
( video )
[ The feed starts off as video first, before switching through the various modes of voice, text, and quickly skimming through the archives. Sooner or later, he flips it back to video. Figuring it'd be best to switch and leave the mode as is, the last thing he wanted was to be accused of poking through things he wasn't supposed to. ]
The feed seems to play on other stations like this one. Saves in the archives as it runs, too. Think our boss has something to do with this?
[ Sliding off his old guard mask, he tilts his head towards someone off screen. Though their voice is caught easily enough. ]
Hard to say. Someone obviously is responsible for this. [ Her voice is strained and ends on a huff, while she zips the suit up as high as it can go, giving it an extra tug even though it is at its limits. ] Regardless, we should stay on our toes.
Well, I don't think we're gonna start connecting the dots on our own anytime soon. So might as well ask... [ At least there seemed to be somewhat helpful replies on the announcements he'd sifted through. With that, he crosses his arms and after a minute or so of shifting and leaning on the edge of the desk; he asks: ] Anyone out there mind filling us in on all this?
[ Not questioning why he knows vague ideas of space and space travel all of a sudden, either. ]
( action )
[ To anyone still milling about the Marsiva, two middle aged teenagers are currently standing around the comms station a little after their broadcast. With the beefy looking guy in a pink yukata a few sizes too small and the lady beefcake in a gaudy blue catsuit. They're digging out a bunch of small post-its with a few scrawled on napkins from their pockets or folds, with the former sliding his old fox mask to the side of his head as he goes over their loot pile.
Eventually they move onto the communicators, things they're more familiar with than dealing with patron spirits or bathhouse customers of Koriko. Exchanging their frequency numbers and sending texts to test out the connection. And, occasionally, leaning over each others shoulders to try out a number of different emoticons before simmering down. Although the awful late night TV shows pull their attention from time to time. Interesting. ]
Broadcast: fleet-wide, video
Action: marsiva funtimes
When: oct. 22, night (lil backdated)
( video )
[ The feed starts off as video first, before switching through the various modes of voice, text, and quickly skimming through the archives. Sooner or later, he flips it back to video. Figuring it'd be best to switch and leave the mode as is, the last thing he wanted was to be accused of poking through things he wasn't supposed to. ]
The feed seems to play on other stations like this one. Saves in the archives as it runs, too. Think our boss has something to do with this?
[ Sliding off his old guard mask, he tilts his head towards someone off screen. Though their voice is caught easily enough. ]
Hard to say. Someone obviously is responsible for this. [ Her voice is strained and ends on a huff, while she zips the suit up as high as it can go, giving it an extra tug even though it is at its limits. ] Regardless, we should stay on our toes.
Well, I don't think we're gonna start connecting the dots on our own anytime soon. So might as well ask... [ At least there seemed to be somewhat helpful replies on the announcements he'd sifted through. With that, he crosses his arms and after a minute or so of shifting and leaning on the edge of the desk; he asks: ] Anyone out there mind filling us in on all this?
[ Not questioning why he knows vague ideas of space and space travel all of a sudden, either. ]
( action )
[ To anyone still milling about the Marsiva, two middle aged teenagers are currently standing around the comms station a little after their broadcast. With the beefy looking guy in a pink yukata a few sizes too small and the lady beefcake in a gaudy blue catsuit. They're digging out a bunch of small post-its with a few scrawled on napkins from their pockets or folds, with the former sliding his old fox mask to the side of his head as he goes over their loot pile.
Eventually they move onto the communicators, things they're more familiar with than dealing with patron spirits or bathhouse customers of Koriko. Exchanging their frequency numbers and sending texts to test out the connection. And, occasionally, leaning over each others shoulders to try out a number of different emoticons before simmering down. Although the awful late night TV shows pull their attention from time to time. Interesting. ]
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[ She gestures a little toward Chris. ]
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What sort of job was...it?
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[ She doesn't look it, but it's also a weird thing to lie about when she could very likely make something up that was less... well. Gardener. ]
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.....Gardener???
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arr wheeze sam's also apparently a pirate
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I dunno... But it still seems. Weird. To do it dressed like that...
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[ Please that sort of place can't afford a bodysuit like this. Look at this thing, after all. The material's thick -- seemingly similar to leather -- and molded to her body perfectly. Whatever it is, it obviously isn't something commercial. ]
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....A bathrobe?
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It's a yukata. A traditional Japanese garment.
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