THE DRIFT FLEET

Who: Dezel and you
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Malum only.
When: Evening.

[audio;]

[The voice that graces the communicators isn't a frequent one. It's low and rough, belonging to a man who has lost something dear to him yet again. Even so, the consonants are clinical. He doesn't sound like the sort of guy who wastes time.]

For those who knew him, Sora's gone.

[He's checked every asteroid, the party, god, even some other ships. He came up empty. He runs his thumb invisibly over the wayfinder Sora made for him way back when-- a good luck charm for the seraph with incredibly bad luck.

There's never enough time.]

Maybe he'll be happy at home. Who knows.

[He doesn't know what else to add, so he just shuts off the feed and goes to work.]

( [action at the Malum] )

Who: Everyone's welcome!
Broadcast: No
Action: Málum, Crowley's bar on the Iskaulit
When: The latter half of March, until they leave the system.

[Though there are 'dry bars' down on the water planet, Crowley's bar is still open. Even the apocalypse couldn't close this thing. Whether you're angsting over something you got from home or you just DON'T TRUST THE OCEAN, there is a leather seat at Málum waiting for you.]

Who: Dezel and whoever!
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Redshift district
When: Late December

[action;]

[After visiting the planet for a while and deciding it was too cold for his tastes, Dezel has decided to stick to whatever parts of Hotel Corona that aren't entirely offensive to his seraphic senses. The fake forest? Totally out. The fake beach? Not much better, but at least he can soak. The weird games? Not much fun when you're invisible. And he can't really see the nebulae outside the window, so that's out, too.

Still, Dezel is an adult and he has some idea of adult fun, unlike the other kids in his company. While he waits for the Fleet to leave the system and return to dead air and dead space, he peruses the full range of seedy bars available. One might find him cutting a dark silhouette in the corner as he drinks by himself. Or, if someone can't see him at all, they might notice a floating mug or wine bottle that everyone around seems to ignore. There's no way the bartender can't see that, right? And yet he keeps looking away every time the bottle moves.

Weird.]

[audio;]

[Here's a voice you don't hear often-- but he's here to educate people about animals.]

All the animals I saw on the planet were aquatic in some way. The planet's probably mostly water beneath the snow and ice, not that you can tell.

So how do they keep warm?

[Ice clinking in a glass fills a brief silence.]

Animals that live in frigid climates have a thick layer of fat beneath their skin. In water-dwelling animals, it's called blubber. Blubber is valuable enough that people melt it down for fuel, leather, and other things.

If you see something that has fur, it's not the same kind of fur you'd find on a dog or cat. There's usually two layers: the underfur, which is dense and keeps heat trapped; and the guard hairs, which are rough and long in order to repel snow and water. Wet fur doesn't insulate well, though, so most hairy animals live above the water. Jumping in is a death sentence unless they have enough fat.

... Just wanted to clear that up. There's some stuff in the museum that's completely made up, so I wouldn't be surprised if they got that wrong, too.

Who: Dezel and you
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Crowley's bar or the Huntress, whichever you prefer.
When: Now

[audio]

[Someone is definitely growling. You'd think he was a dog, but then he seems to form words. Every consonant sounds like a knife against stone.]

I'm staying away from the planet for a while. If anyone needs me—

[He hesitates.]

—too bad. [And he hangs up.]

( [action on malum and the huntress] )

Who: Dezel and whoever
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Yes, if you're on the Golden or the polluted moon!
When: April 2nd, various

[video; the golden]
[The feed shows what appears to be the Golden's main hallway, though there's no one in it. And yet there is audio. Someone is clearly talking.]

This is for everyone on the Golden and whoever might think about coming here. The second room on the left is off-limits. If I catch someone sleeping in here, I'm kicking you out. I don't care if you can see me or not. I can't see any of you, but I don't use your things or sleep in your beds.

[He scoffs and cuts the feed.]

[action; we like the moon]
[Dezel was given a mask, but he's not using it. It's hanging off his belt-- and it's decorated like a dog-- but don't you dare point that out. He's standing at the edge of the woods, arms out, little metal pendulums swinging from his fingers as he calls on his native element.

There's a wicked breeze afoot, tugging branches off trees and picking up dead leaves; anyone who can't sense seraphim will simply see a dust-devil whirling in place. But the important thing is that he's trying. And around here, the air actually seems breathable.

Before it's swept away into the unrelenting smog, that is.]

Ugh. This isn't working. [Damn it, trees. Do your job!]

[ooc: Dezel's sensing permissions are here. Over the network he can be heard but not seen, and in person, you have to have some kind of sensitivity to hear or see him. Shipmates who've been on the Golden for at least a month should be able to hear him either way, however.]