driftfleet | Entries tagged with finrod felagund

Who: Finrod & you
Broadcast: Video, fleetwide
Action: On the Bishop, if you wish
When: This morning

[Finrod has taken a little time to make himself presentable before turning on the communicator, though he still looks a little disoriented. That's probably inevitable after being asleep for nearly a month.

He gives a smile and a little nod of greeting, as is his usual opening.]

Good morning. [There's a hint of amusement in his voice there.] I know that there have been new arrivals while I have been... indisposed and I would offer you welcome. I am Finrod Felagund, captain of Bishop, and if there is aught I might do to ease the discomfort of your arrival, you need but ask. Members of my crew, in particular, should not hesitate to approach me, even if only to talk.

For those of you who know me already- I believe we have much to catch up on! I look forward to speaking with you. [Which is his way of saying 'please let me know that you're alright and still around.']

faithfulwisdom

Who: Finrod
Broadcast: Fleetwide video
Action: You can find him on Cirrusa City, mostly. Or the Bishop.
When: 8/20

[As usual, Finrod (dressed in Moxie colors, but they are so similar to his regular wardrobe that one could be excused for not noticing) opens his broadcast with a polite little nod of his head.]

It seems foolish not to take advantage of benefits offered by membership in these groups. Yet I imagine that I am not alone in having interests which cross faction boundaries- and, of course, there are some who will not wish to align themselves at all. Therefore, I suggest a series of exchanges. I am certain many have already begun such trades among their closest friends, but I see no reason the idea should not be expanded.

I, for one, have found myself affiliated with the Moxie factions and am more than willing to purchase goods or obtain tickets and the like for anyone wishing to take advantage of the lower price.

castintoflames

Who: Maedhros & Finrod
Broadcast: Nope!
Action: On SS Bishop.
When: Slightly backdated to a few days after Maedhros boards the ship.

Avoiding his half-cousin was cowardly and there was little he detested more than cowardice. Thus, after settling into his new, strange quarters, he sought Finrod out.

"Cousin? We have a conversation that is overdue, do we not?" he forced himself to breathe deep and stay calm, yet he dreaded what was to come, "I will tell you the truth no matter how difficult."

No longer would he run from the shadows. If he planned on staying at Maglor's side - and Fëanor's - he needed to be stronger. What had passed could not be changed, but the future was undecided. There was comfort in that.

He was free to be himself again - free of the Oath.

castintoflames

Who: Maedhros & YOU
Broadcast: Fleet-Wide.
Action: Open to HS Marsiva.
When: Morning.

(Marsiva's hospitality cannot erase what Maedhros has endured. He is dressed cleanly and his hair is braided neatly and away from his face. Even his burns have been healed with minimal scarring. But there is something untamed in his eyes.

Something that burns like a hungry, desperate fire.)

...why? (His low voice resonates clearly, cutting through the air with ease. He needn't ever shout.) Surely these quarters are not located within the Halls of Mandos?

(He feels life flowing within him and it is wrong. Lifting his only fist, he hits the nearest wall, clenching his teeth.)

Do not trap my fëa. Arda is safer with me dead.

faithfulwisdom

Who: Finrod
Broadcast: One for the crew of the Bishop and one for CR
Action: He's hanging out on the Bishop, if you want
When: Slightly backdated, let's say 5/9

[Video, locked to the Bishop]

[There’s a noticeable difference from Finrod’s usual appearance on the communication devices. His easygoing demeanor is gone, replaced by a decidedly more commanding air. He has chosen one of his finer tunics for this, and his hair is carefully braided back and away from his face.
As the video begins, he sits perfectly straight, his shoulders squared, and a confident , welcoming smile on his face. With a polite little dip of his head, he begins to speak, his tone more formal than most may be accustomed to hearing.]

Le suilannon

There are, I believe, a few of you I have not yet met- something I hope to remedy soon- but for that reason, I think it best to start with an introduction. I am Finrod Felagund and I have been serving as a Communications Officer aboard the Bishop for quite some time now. None of you have failed to notice, I am certain, the recent departure of several of our crew members, including our former captain. Due to these changes, I have been promoted to the position of captain.

I wish to assure you, first, that I have no shortage of experience in the role of a commanding officer. I have spent the last several hundred years as a leader, on and off the battle field. Secondly, I wish to welcome you all to come to me with any difficulties you may have, or simply so that we might know one another better. The invitation will remain open as long as I am aboard this vessel.

I look forward to continuing to work with all of you.

[Video, locked to his friends (minus Maglor), if you think he would have included you in the list, you are probably right.]

I have a favor to ask of you, if I might. My cousin, Maglor, has arrived and will, no doubt, have difficulty adjusting at first. [And there’s something else that worries him. How worn Maglor seems at times, how weary. But he is hesitant to speak of that aloud, let alone to a group.] I ask only that you show him the same generosity and kindness that you have shown me in my time here. He is, by and large, an agreeable sort, even if he may be a touch thick-headed at times.

thespaceopera

The Captcha is upon us, but the party isn't over! Feel free to continue your threads here, start new ones, and continue the dance party!

- Original Mingle
- OOC Post

[[OOC: ~~Wait for Sections!~~ Sections are up! Feel free to use the section prompts or make your own! We'd also advise against just linking back to your original mingle post for the sake of players with slower computers.]]

bythewaves

Who: Maglor
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Now until shuffle

Broadcast

He comes awake in a gasp, hands flying immediately to weapons that are not there as he rolls into a wary crouch. The man is slender, almost beautiful, long dark hair and clear grey eyes that seem to glow from within. He is dressed in what are best described as robes - once fine but now faded and worn, if clean due to the efforts of whoever put him there. Almost innocuously compared to the shabby state of him, there is a silver eight pointed star pinned to his clothes that looks impossibly untarnished and is obviously of very high quality.

"Who is there?"

Action

Maglor moves silently through the halls, no sound of his footfalls. He is wary, anxious - this is something totally outside his experience. But then he passes a window looking out and he stops, a cry of wonder breaking from his lips as he falls to his knees. A hand comes up to his mouth, the other gripping the harp that seems to have been the only thing that came with him, as silent tears run down his face.

"A! Elbereth!"

lunaes

Who: Cress Darnel & everyone
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: the marsiva
When: 2/25 super early in the morning

[ The first thing the Fleet gets from Cress is a shot of narrowed eyes and blonde curls as she kills the feed upon noticing the communicator. It's not terran or lunar tech, not the kind she's familiar with, but it's easy enough for her to navigate.

The second thing they get, some time later, comes from the viewing bay of the Marsiva, where Cress sits with her legs crossed as she hunches over the communicator, one hand continuously reaching up to fiddle with the ends of her hair and start to try to twine it around her wrist before she realizes it's not long enough for that, still. Not long enough in the way it used to be, at least.

Her hand drops, and she clears her throat. ]

I - [ She's listened in on some things and read others, watched entertainment feeds, but - ] Can someone talk to me? Please?

[ Her voice is very small and very fragile. She's trapped again, and there isn't even the familiar image of the Earth outside this viewport. It's a bigger cage than the last one, but her hands are shaky and her eyes dart around nervously, her unease clear. ]

About - about anything. Please. This is Cress - Crescent Moon - Crescent Moon Darnel. [ She has to keep correcting herself, not used to her full name, or her last name, and Cress flicks one hand, flustered. Then she tries for a smile, a little happier and more confident than she actually feels. ] We get to - um, go planetside? Am I understanding that right? This isn't -

[ Another vague sweeping hand gesture around the viewing bay, and her voice goes softer again. ]

- Nevermind. Do you have a favorite song? A favorite story? Anything. [ If the answer is "no" and she's stuck inside a spaceship without any breaks at all to that being a thing, she might actually cry, so she backtracks from the question. Without her noticing, she starts twirling some hair around one finger, biting her lip. ]

faithfulwisdom

Who: Finrod Felagund
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: Bishop
When: backdated a few days, let's say the 26th.

[Congratulations, Drift Fleet. You are being treated to a little tune of Finrod's own composition. Because some days, you just feel like announcing things in verse, apparently.]

When the night is at its longest, we gather ‘round the fire
Drink is shared and tales are told as the flames grow ev’r higher.

The custom comes to naught without a sun to mark the days,
But merry voices hold shadows of many kinds at bay.

Our journey is no garden path; we do not walk with ease.
Any reason for song and drink is one that must be seized.

[Okay, okay. He'll put down the harp and address the camera a bit more serious. Only a bit, though- there's nothing truly serious about any of this.]

In other words, my friends, Turuhalmë, an annual celebration of my people is, I think, here. It’s impossible to truly know, since I have no notion of how my calendar lines up with any other used here. Regardless, I think the occasion worth marking. According to tradition, we should gather around a fire, tell tales, and make merry long into the night.

However, as I am not precisely enthused about the idea of making a return to the planet and our ships are not equipped with hearths, I will settle for the making merry and telling of tales. You are all welcome to join me; I am on the Bishop for the moment, though if the group should grow large, we may have to relocate.

[ooc: With apologies to Tolkien and poets everywhere. It's been a long time since I've done anything that's not freeverse]

preformthisneigh

Who: Cheese Sandwich and YOU
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Bishop
When: Tonight!

[Cheese appears on the video feed, BEAMING excitedly. He's in the Bishop's cargo hold, which has been decorated with paper chains and vaguely Christmasy (but not TOO Christmasy) decorations, tinsel, little lights, you know the drill. There's also a single card behind him, because ALLEN remembered and now he is the best. Good job, Allen.]

Happy Hearthswarming Eve everypony! This is a special holiday where I come from where we celebrate the founding of our country. We have this big feast the day after and raise the flag of Equestria BUT tonight is even more important, because it's when we get together and have parents to tell the story. I'm the only pony here so ...uh you just got me, but hey, we work with what we got.

( OOC cut for length )

And that's how Equestria came to be. Thank you, thank you, don't forget to tip your waiter.

[Bishop Crew]

Hey guys! Look under your beds and then come meet me in the cargo bay! Another tradition this time of year is that everypony living together that day puts their own little hoof-made doll of themselves on the hearth to signify togetherness and all that good stuff. We haven't got a hearth but hey, we can make do with some...boxes or something, right?

[And sure enough, under their beds will be a little crocheted doll of themselves. It's not a bad likeness actually.]

stagstorm

Who: Robert Baratheon
Broadcast: Fleetwide video.
Action: The Marsiva
When: Soon.

[The camera catches view of a man who is as thick as he is tall standing in front of the massive windows that separate the safety of the Marsiva from the inhospitable void of space on the other side of it. For many, this would be a breathtaking view of the cosmos. The King saw it only as a nuisance. Dressed in rich silk and velvet with a antlered crown on his head, Robert Baratheon was no man to be toyed with and he was eager to be free, even if he could not fully comprehend what he was seeing. He had never been a learned man and the concept of space itself was so far beyond his sphere of experience. He saw nothing but a night sky and though he could not see the ground, that only posed a problem to be solved later.

Later meaning after he had broken through the glass with a chair that he had caused significant damage to by beating it repeatedly against the window. With each thrust he roared in something between fury and excitement.]

That's right! Try and cage me, you bastards! Do you think this metal prison can hold me? Come now! Have at me!

[Yet for all his bravado and effort, the window did not even crack. Besides that, he was not so fit as he was in his youth. Winded and exhausted, he eventually righted the dented chair so he could sit on it instead. Only then did he turn his attention back to the communicator. He could not say why or how, but he understood that it was meant for communicating. He twisted in his hands a few times before deciding to play the fool and speak into it.]

...well? Does this damned bloody thing work or not?

steeledskin

Who: ~~Sansa Stark~~Alayne Stone and YOU!
Broadcast: Video (fleetwide)
Action: Marsiva (bathroom + hallways + kitchen)
When: Early morning.

[ she stares at her refection -- standing in the communal bathroom on the marsiva. another morning, which had followed hard upon another night. at least she could only assume they were mornings and nights by the waning of the lights, and the jarring onset of such cryptic dreams. these nightly journeys into strange places and stranger memories exhaust her, and with girlish vanity she touches the dark circles under her eyes -- so starkly visible in such a perfectly reflective surface, far better than even the best polished metals in king's landing. my name is alayne stone, she mouths to herself -- more bewildered now by the obvious dark dye in her hair than she'd ever been before. sansa is gone; sansa is dead. but already her roots are beginning to show copper--!

she gathers her hair into a simple plait and fastidiously straightens the dress she'd worn to the tournament feast in the vale, and the same dress she'd worn when she'd woken up elsewhere on the marsiva. it would need a washing, soon. but she had no handmaid to prevail upon. so, looking almost as dreary as she felt, she walked solemnly and slowly back to her assigned room: nothing to keep her company except a fur-lined cloak and a mockingbird pin.

she had avoided the bizarre little message-givers for so long. but having slyly watched someone else use theirs on the previous evening, she dares to address whoever else might be listening: ]

Please. I want to go home. I'm not supposed to be here.

[ it doesn't occur to her that no one else should be, either.

but once she's been thoroughly schooled on that front, she can be found drowning her private sorrows in the kitchen, her gaze stuck on the warmed milk filling her mug. she can't decide whether she's relieved or angry she can't return to where she's meant to be. ]

geonomy

Who: Everyone! EVERYONE!
Broadcast: IF YOU WANNA
Action: Everywhere! EVERYWHERE!
When: Mid-September - Mid-October

[How's your ship doing, pardners? Is it still pretty damaged? Is it glitching out hardcore? Well, there is one place to land to take care of all that, and that's on a dusty old moon in front of a planet that no one wants to go to. On this moon, you'll find a civilization that looks a lot like one's stepped into a wild west movie, hardened cowpolk and mutant horses and all. Will you become a vigilante, hunting bounties and stopping gangs from doing their dirty work? Will you go exploring planetside, with a cowboy hat and a stalk of wheat in your mouth to complete the look? Good luck with that; there is no wheat. This town ain't big enough for all you flooters, but make it so! For the ratings!

In other words, it's a planet mingle! Get 'er done!]

[September Planet info here]

faithfulwisdom

Who: Finrod
Broadcast: open broadcast
Action: let's go with N/A for now
When: August 28, earlier in the evening.

[Finrod appears on the communicator, offering the viewers his best smile.]

Good evening. [Or what passes for evening in space. It’s hard to tell. Look, just roll with it.]

I have been doing a great deal of thinking as of late and it occurs to me that I have been most fortunate in the friends that I have made here. Most likely it need not be said, but I come from a world with technology far less advanced than that which is used here. Had certain individuals not taken pity upon me, I would have been at a great loss for far longer than I was.

I think I should like to do something similar for others, if I can.

I still cannot claim expertise in the technology here, of course, but I have been here long enough to develop a working knowledge of it. And I believe it may be easier for me to explain such things to another with a background similar to my own. I may promise, at least, a patient ear and a lack of overly complex terminology.

( Private to Beverly Crusher )

( Action for Tek )

ino

Who: Beverly Crusher & Yamanaka Ino ... AND YOU!
Broadcast: Video
Action: On the Iskaulit only
When: Now!

[ The video feed turns on, and there's a blonde girl with a much taller redhead.

They're in an empty-ish room on the Iskaulit, it looks like, and Ino checks to make sure the feed is going before speaking up. ]

Hi everyone! Dr. Crusher and I had an idea, we wanted to see if you guys were interested ...

[ She'll glance over to the other woman, waiting for her to speak up ]

We're thinking of setting up a garden over here on the Iskaulit. I know I, for one, could use a more natural retreat from the confines of our ships during longer stretches of travel between planets. I'm certain we could redirect some of the current water systems for irrigation, and there's more than sufficient space here to build sunlamps and the other equipment we'd need. [She smiles.] Unfortunately, while we both have experience working with plants, I'm afraid neither of us are particularly adept engineers.

[ Ino nods along, grinning a little at the very end of Beverly's statement ]

Now, I know there's plenty of you out there who've got the know-how to help us out. Soooo, what do you say? I've already got a decent stash of seeds and stuff that we could start planting right away, given we've got the right light and water conditions. Of course, we'll also gladly accept any donations or -- y'know, help from all the budding horticulturists out there, so on and so forth.

So? Do we have any takers?

thespaceopera

[It hasn't even been a week, but the jingle announcing the Shuffle chimes out from every speaker. And your host's voice follows quickly, sounding just as bright and confident as she has all month.]

Good morning, dear passengers! Are you ready for another Drift Fleet Shuffle and letter from your adoring fans? I know I sure am! What a lovely, lovely month this has been-- an impromptu summer vacation you could say. We will all be so sad when it's over.

Even the influx and departure of passengers has been lazy this week. It's barely a ripple in the water.

Oh-- and don't you worry about those minor malfunctions we've been experiencing. Our technicians have them almost squared away, I'm sure. Not that I've heard many of you complaining, however...

[She breathes a knowing little chuckle before she continues, and there is a rustle of paper near the microphone to signal the upcoming fan letter.]

Now, this letter comes to us written on lovely blue paper. It really fits the theme. I wish you all could see it.

Ahem, "dear Drift Fleet, I have been watching you for several cycles now, and I wanted to say that I've been enjoying the camaraderie that the passengers have been showing this cycle, but it still doesn't compare to the ninth. Are we going to be disappointed again? I'm concerned that these passengers don't have any drive. So, my question to each passenger is, what is your motivation to win? Why do you think you are going to win the Drift Fleet?"

[And Diamond just can't help but take a big, thrilled breath upon the conclusion of the letter.]

--Well! What a good question! It's one that I think we've all been wondering for some time now, so please... do tell us all why you are the one that has what it takes to win.

And remember, the worlds are watching!

[Once again, the broadcast silences but the line is left open and waiting.]

ooc: → here
(as before, those who responded to the last Shuffle broadcasts will have had noticeable little bonuses to their ratings earnings for the week. apparently, audience participation really is a big hit!)

hymnals

Who: Adrasteius; perhaps you
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Bishop; kitchens
When: N to the O W

[Adra's in the ship's kitchen, seated at the table. A shimmering, golden aura limns his entire body, concentrated particularly at the crown of his blonde head. The faint impression of angelic wings blinks in and out of corporeality on his back as he speaks, sometimes seeming almost solid.]

I'm here today to speak to you about the Light. No, I don't mean that thing in the ceiling, or the sun, or any physical, mechanical sources of illumination, so let's nip that idiot question right in the bud. I'm talking religion, people, which some of you desperately need. A religion that isn't bullshit.

[He leans forward; steeples his hands.]

First of all: no gods. No capital G 'God' or 'Maker' or 'Creator' or what-have-you. No offense if that's part of the dogma, I guess, but it doesn't strike me right. Most of the gods I've met needed a swift kick to their many-mouthed faces, personally.

Second of all: no judgment. Of course, those who wield the Light can and must judge, but the Light itself brooks no discrimination. Whatever you've done, and for whatever reason you've done it, the Light forgives. The Light is grace: by definition, ever present, albeit never deserved. A gift of the universe.

Because, you see, the Light is an omnipresent, divine force. It is the name we give to every person's individual connection the universe. Under its teaching, we recognize our place in the great span of space and time--and our responsibility to influence the universe positively, to bring comfort, to soothe pain, to offer hope.

[Adra gestures with his hands, and as he does so, Light sparks from his fingers. The energy darts around the room, looking for all the world like a cascade of shooting stars. He might be trying to show off a little--or, at least, just trying to demonstrate that what he's talking about can be empirically observed.]

Practitioners follow a path of three virtues: respect, tenacity, and compassion, taught in that order. Don't worry: I won't go into it. Not today.

[But another day. Sooner rather than later.

The glow around his body fades. He smiles, a beatific, genuine expression.]

The point is--religion doesn't have to be damaging. It doesn't have to be oppressive. There are philosophies, churches, that work for good. Mine is one of them. It's here for you. I'm here for you.

Just letting you know.

faithfulwisdom

Video

[As we all know, Atroma adores catching the “real life” moments of its contestants. That’s really the only explanation for why there’s video footage of a sleeping man on the network.

More specifically, a sleeping version of your resident elven prince, looking not-so-princely. It turns out that all those flowing golden locks make for some magnificent bed hair when you’ve been suspended in cryosleep for a few weeks.

But, lo! Sleeping Beauty stirs! Finrod groans and sits up, blinking his way to wakefulness and running his hand through that mane of golden hair. Then he turns, picks up his communicator, and looks at the date.

There’s a loud exclamation of surprise given in Quenya, followed by:] Weeks!

[Yeah, you…might want to let him know he’s being recorded.]

Later in the Week/Action for a Casino waystation

[Having cleaned up considerably and had time to explore the waystations (and the planet, but that’s another story) a bit, Finrod looks much more himself. He’s even indulged in a bit of gambling and had some luck at it.

He inserts his voucher into the prize the machine, not really expecting anything substantial. His eyebrows raise immediately when the glimmer of gold comes from machine- and his jaw practically drops when he reaches down and discovers just what he has been given.

A necklace. But not just any necklace- a gift he was given by the dwarves, crafted of gold and jewels. A beautiful, ostentatious, weighty thing- and he is glad to have it back in his hands. With a smile, he clasps it around his neck. It’s a fair bet that he’s not going to be taking it off any time soon.]

arcanepower

Who: Anyone who wants to come!
Broadcast: If you want to.
Action: SS Bishop and anyone present.
When: April 2nd through the 15th, if you'd like! A little fudging with dates is allowed.

[We're not going to talk about tripping balls on April Fools or the inevitable hallucinogenic hangover. Let's talk about... uh... Tadashi's love life. Or someone's choice in fairy lights. Or the fact that there are still freaking ostrich bobbleheads hidden in places around the ship, months later.]

devilsinthedetails

Who: Cole Turner and you. yes, you. even you over there.
Broadcast: none!
Action: EVERYWHERE except the marsiva obviously
When: April 3rd

[No matter what ship you're on, there is a guy shimmering on it at any part of the ship you might be, not really caring where he shows up because that doesn't seem to matter to him. What seems to matter is that he's looking at a watch and disgusted by what he finds there.]

That's the worst time yet. I used to be better than this. Have I gotten lazy...or dare I say it, old? No, that can't be. I'm obviously just out of practice.

[And unless he's interrupted, he just looks like he's psyching himself up before he shimmers out to the next place, apparently trying to beat his time? idk, demons are weird and really vain.]

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Entries tagged with finrod felagund

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