save_the_souls: (lying down)
[personal profile] save_the_souls
Who: YOU. ME. EVERYONE.
Broadcast: IF YOU WANT
Action: YEAH!!!!!
When: July!

[Congratulations to the crews that did not get themselves blown up! Welcome to the Blue Planet, a planet full of charming islands and even less charming weather patterns! Are you going to take the time to enjoy the beach? Help out with the local Nunnilis population? Get caught in a storm with another person and have a rating boosting sexual tension moment? The world's your oyster!]

[Yeah in other words: ITS A MINGLE GET IN HERE]

[July Planet Info!]
thespaceopera: (red alert)
[personal profile] thespaceopera
[After weeks of relative silence, our intrepid passengers finally travel within visual range of a blue planet. Marsiva's slow-and-steady course makes it clear that this is the Drift Fleet's next destination--but just as your ships come within scanning range and your computers begin to gather data, a fleet of quick little watchdog ships zip out of the planet's atmosphere, heading straight for you!

They do not swoop in for an attack, but hold their positions between you and the planet. They look close enough to cause some trouble, and any working Communications Officer can tell you that they have weapons locked on the Fleet in warning.

The tell-tale sound of an incoming hailing frequency chimes over your ship's alert system. Someone would like you to pick up the phone. Thanks to their augment, all passengers instinctively know that they'll be looking for the Captain or the Communications Officer of the ship--but no one says someone else can't pick it up first.

On the bridge, the hailing frequency can be viewed on screen, along with the attached subject: "Identify yourselves." The notification chime goes off every seven seconds. These ships don't look like they're going anywhere, but they don't want to be kept waiting, either.

What do you do? Will you accept the frequency?]



ooc → see the July Star System post for details about this event! there is no real rush in this post (we won't even be around to begin responding to it until Sunday afternoon), so take your time, feel free to tag each other in this post (maybe try to get your Comms officers off their asses), and there is no time too late to tag into this post. the element of urgency is all IC, and there is no OOC pressure at all.
thespaceopera: (hello)
[personal profile] thespaceopera
[it may be too optimistic to hope that it has something to do with respect, but Atroma has been very quiet. in the wake of the growing stillness on the Iskaulit, neither of the fleet's hosts have broken the peace with their chipper voices.

if the passengers are being watched as closely as they always claim, it is being done in silence.

whether or not the remainder of the living bugs are being kept somewhere for observation, and regardless of the fact that the discussion of what to ultimately do with the ship is still ongoing, it has been generally agreed that something respectful should be done with the dead, and that the remaining spores should be washed away.

so, this will all be done through a combined effort of vacuum and fire, and the time for this purge has been set.

feet on the ground are needed to prepare the foreign ship for purging--securing anything that could be damaged, and safely packing away delicate data-storing instruments and anything belonging to the fleet itself. anyone willing to help could surely find something to do.

and for anyone wishing to bless, reflect, honor, or pray... now is the time to do so. whether aboard the Iskaulit itself before the purge, offering a voice over the network, or simply watching from nearby shuttles and ships, this is the fleet's moment to help send off the crew of the Iskaulit with dignity.]



ooc: this is the final IC mod post for June! the purge itself will be implied for the most part, but anyone with skills in mechanics or fire-controlling may assume they were involved.

this post specifically is for any interactive threads involved in the final days before the Iskaulit is cleaned, and anything funerary, including broadcasts. even if you just want to put up a closed comment describing what private way your character is taking part in this makeshift 'ceremony,' go for it.

an OOC post summarizing and officially wrapping up the rest of June will go up as soon as we're able.
alwayscomeback: (And I'll find strength in pain)
[personal profile] alwayscomeback
Who: Sokka and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Blue Fish
When: Right now!

[Sokka has finally awoken from cryosleep. He looks a little older (which, of course, he is, he's a whole 19 years now) and his hair is in disarray, but awake he is. His communicator catches him sitting upright, blinking confusedly around him as he tries to sort through three years worth of memories and try to work out where the hell he is.

After a few moments, the pieces fall into place, and he lets out a low groan, flopping back on his bed.
]

Ugh. I thought I was done with this place.

[Then, he gets up, reluctantly, ties his hair back up in a pony tail, and heads up the hatch and out into the Blue Fish himself. It's like going back to a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. The familiarity is fuzzy and off, but it's slowly creeping back to him. ]
deshabille: «vampire considering cheese theft» (☀ would you tell me)
[personal profile] deshabille
Who: Mal
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: On the Caprine if anyone desires it! I'm flexible.
When: 6/20.

[As in her first broadcast, Mal can be found tinkering around in the engine room, elbows-deep in something interesting and greasy. This time, though, she seems pensive, deep in thought, perhaps about Deep Subjects and Philosophies.]

[She is, in fact, thinking about something entirely different.]

[When she speaks, it's in tones of airy contemplation, meant to disguise the fact that part of her thinks this is a terrible idea.]


Here is an interesting thing: vampires, for all their reputation for seduction, really aren't that good at it, at least where I come from. When you're always hungry, you mostly rely on people leaving windows open at the right time and then being a bit woozy from blood loss. For the really old ones, the ones who can barely stand without crumbling to dust and really hate sunshine, that's the only way they can eat, and if they tried to seduce anyone their arm would probably fall off.

[She twists at a mysterious innard of the ship with a wrench, tongue in her cheek.]

We've had enough excitement for a while, I think, so why not something boring instead: tell me about romance in your world. Describe the sorts of flowers you like to kill for love. Rate yourself on a scale of one to ten, complete dunce to Casanunda, if you like.

Actually, everyone should have to do that. That's compulsory. I will genteelly admit that I am a nine. [Liar.]
hymnals: you're not alone in this story's pages (hearts are worn in these dark ages)
[personal profile] hymnals
Who: Adrasteius, yourself
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Bishop; wandering (teleporting around) the halls
When: now

[It's a comfort to know that his wife and children won't actually be missing him, that whenever he returns it'll be as though he never left at all--but only to a point. He still misses them, after all, and he feels their lack more acutely with each passing day.

His wife often left him for weeks at a time on military campaigns, but he's rarely been separated from his children for more than a few days. He'd already been apart from them for too long when he woke up here, due to the problems in Orgrimmar, but the full weight of their absence hadn't hit him until today. Something about the season, or the week, or perhaps it was nothing specific at all.

He sighs into the feed.]


So, anyone else got kids at home? I'm suddenly sick for mine.
thespaceopera: (echoechoecho)
[personal profile] thespaceopera
[a distress call has been tracked across the void, finally leading back to the source. a hulking crippled ship, teeming with hostile alien life, now lies before you.

what do you do? do you dive in or hang back? are you here to learn, play, build, or observe?

however you choose to proceed, your audience is out there somewhere, watching.]



ooc: here is a good ol' themed mingle to get you all started! and don't feel limited by the prompts and what they describe--they're just there as idea-starters, so feel free to go anywhere and do anything.

have fun!

info post→ here
hymnals: that wants to grow (Default)
[personal profile] 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.
serpentis: (The sun turned to ash)
[personal profile] serpentis
Who: Dorian!
Broadcast: Fleet-wide!
Action: On the Three Twins
When: 5/26, night

Well, now that we've all gotten our fill of rampant debauchery, I thought I might pose a little question to you, Fleet. A more...somber question.

[Dorian looks considering for a moment, and when he speaks, he talks with his hands as much as his mouth. It seems like a subject he's certainly into, that's for sure.]

What would you do if, for example, you disagreed with the politics of your home? What measures would you go to? At what cost would you ensure that things were righted, were changed for the better?

[He raises a brow.]

Would you kill for it? Would you bring about chaos and disarray because the end would justify those means, as it were? How many deaths can be justified by a revolutionary change? 10? 100? Thousands? If it were for the greater good, how many lives could you sacrifice?

[He brings the hand back to his chin, thinking.]

Color me curious. What are your politics there?
destinyembrace: (Hiding beneath it all and)
[personal profile] destinyembrace
Who: Crew of the Blue Fish, anyone who's been invited, and any visitors! So basically everyone
Broadcast: Nope
Action: On the Blue Fish, mostly probably in the kitchen and the mess hall because PARTY
When: Today~

[If there's anything this freaking ship loves, it's food. Somehow, a dinner got planned to welcome the new member. And then other people got invited. And then the dinner pretty much turned into a party with a lot of food. Needless to say, Kairi has been very busy preparing food all the day for this.

There's a lot of meat, per the captain's request. But there's also veggies, some fruit, pasta, and even brownies! There are also two pizza pies. Basically, Kairi just cooked a bunch of food and hoped it would be enough, as she had no idea how many people were coming.

SO DIG IN, BLUE FISH AND GUESTS. Also mingle and be social and all that jazz!]
pirasea: (2)
[personal profile] pirasea
Who: Isabela and everyone ever (or anyone who wants to talk to her, at least)
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Huntress, or Marsiva if you can catch her in the brief time before she's assigned her ship.
When: In the hours pre-shuffle and just post-shuffle

[When Isabela wakes up the first thing she does is check for daggers. Which are, of course, absent. She checks both her surroundings and her person.]

Shit.

[Unsurprisingly voicing her frustration doesn't help. There doesn't even seem to be anything she can use as a makeshift weapon. Cautiously, she bends down to retrieve a rather magnificent hat that seems to have fallen off while she was still out. She feels around in that too. Just in case. Any concealed weapons it might have held at one time are no longer there, however.

Is it even possible for her to look any more pissed off? Evidently so.]

001

Apr. 15th, 2015 04:23 pm
coppermarigolds: (i need three goats and a sheaf of wheat)
[personal profile] coppermarigolds
Who: Aveline and you
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Pre-Shuffle

Ugh, Maker.

[Aveline is... just waking up in the Hospitality Deck. Hello. She blinks several times, disoriented and feeling rather like she had far too much to drink the night before -- and not even good stuff, but more like something questionable and tainted with rat droppings that one might find in the Hanged Man. She sits up, rubbing her temples for a moment, with her eyes squeezed shut. This is all very... strange. And unfamiliar. And yet... she knows it, too. And that doesn't make sense, not remotely. She stares across the room for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. She touches the augment behind her ear, experimentally, and for a long moment is quiet as she looks around the room, scowling like a thundercloud.

Okay. First things first.]

If someone's there, come talk to me face to face.

[It's not a suggestion. It's an order. She pulls herself to her feet, still frowning.]

open.

Apr. 15th, 2015 05:04 pm
ex_frolics736: (Default)
[personal profile] ex_frolics736
Who: Merrill.
Broadcast: Fleet-wide.
Action: SS First Breath, whenever.
When: APR 12 - 18.

Oh. Oh dear.

[ Is it a Welsh pixie? It certainly sounds like one. Pointed ears, short black hair, intricate tattoos across the angular plains of her face. But no, despite the accent, Merrill is neither Welsh, nor pixie.

Currently she's balancing on one bare foot, trying to shake something brown and sloppy off the other. It would be easy to jump to the wrong conclusion at first, but everyone gets a dessert when they arrive, so closer examination will make it clear that she's only stepped in chocolate cream.

Though really, how she's managed that is anyone's guess.
]

I am... so sorry. It wasn't something important, was it? Eugh, it's all slimy.

[ Given she took a while to get used to Kirkwall, a couple of days prowling about the Marsiva and her brand new augment really aren't adequate preparation for the sleek metal and digital displays of a spaceship.

Though later, she might be found in Engineering, trying to work out how she knows anything at all about this strange contraption, but also delighting in the fact that she has all this new knowledge, and more right there to learn about. Merrill isn't very good with people, but she loves magic, and to her view all of this technology isn't too different.

Or you can always call her once she's washed off her feet.
]
forcemageure: ([ DEFAULT ])
[personal profile] forcemageure
Who: SS Blue Fish and PERHAPS YOU?
Broadcast: It ... could happen.
Action: SS Blue Fish!
When: Post-Shuffle

[ The Blue Fish has unlocked achievement: Ironically, a Pilot! Ironically, considering it's probably still a bit dinged and dented from the recent attack, when they ...didn't have one.

But no matter! The point is mingling, and also painting. This has nothing to do with anyone calling the ship's interior boring, naturally, that is total coincidence. The cats will be helping by walking through spilled paint at every opportunity, rolling around in said spilled paint at also every opportunity, and biting Achilles' tendons.

Sally forth, friends, Blue Fishians, country...men...spaceians?? Mingle 'til you just can't mingle no mo'. Or. Something.
]
twocomplex: (or humor)
[personal profile] twocomplex
Who: GAME-WIDE MINGLE aka everyone
Broadcast: If you want
Action: The Stations!
When: From 04/05 through the month of April.

[Well, that all sure happened. But at least you have the waystations! Whether you want to stock up on supplies, work, trade, or visit the very fancy Virtual Reality Dome, it's bound to be a nice break from the attacks of the 5th.

Make your own prompts, set up your own Virtual Realities, etc! For reference, the OOC post with info is over here!]
thespaceopera: (red alert)
[personal profile] thespaceopera
[bright and early one Sunday morning, proximity alarms begin to blare. could it be another set of disorienting malfunctions?

no... this one is for real. the Drift Fleet is under attack!

any ship with a scanning array will pick up a small swarm of ships--roughly the same caliber as the ships in your fleet--swooping in fast from distant space. any pilot, engineer, or communications officer who remembers those strange blips in the radar over the last several months can confirm that this is that very same group that's been following them. this time, they're not leaving room for negotiations, and they will not respond to any hailing or threats. they are on a mission.

within minutes, weapons are live, and the fleet is fired upon. suddenly, the casual drifting of the fleet turns into something much more real, and much more dangerous.

do you follow your augment's call and run to your station? do you flee your responsibilities? do you wish you could help and can't? are the captains leading or floundering, and are their crews even listening?

for a few terrifying moments, the fleet will be hammered, and Atroma is silent. you are all on your own, dear passengers. your little ships are not prepared for this, you have not been trained--and your enemies have no such trouble. a few ships are even shot down, forced to make crash-landings on nearby stations.

things look grim as the terribly-outmatched little fleet fights to defend itself... until the attacking fleet suddenly turns and bolts back into the darkness without warning.

maybe the attack was a warning. maybe they were just testing you. maybe something frightened them off.

whatever the reason, you are all left beaten and confused, without explanation at all.]


ooc posthere
this is a little event to kick off April! and it is essentially a glorified themed mingle, so there is no rush to reply to this immediately. the outcomes of the ships have been predetermined, based on the augments of the crews. all of that information and more (including info for people on hiatus and who wish to opt-out) can be found on the ooc post as well.

flourish or buckle under the pressure, help or hinder, and most importantly-- have fun!

action 02

Apr. 3rd, 2015 12:37 pm
devilsinthedetails: (♗ I wished they turn into real)
[personal profile] 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.]
killedwithlove: (Lost Boy)
[personal profile] killedwithlove
Who: Cole and anyone who stands still long enough to be talked to
Broadcast: No.
Action: One ALL fleet ships except The Tourist and The Three Twins
When: During the week.

Cole doesn't like the communicators. He finds it too disorientating to talk to people and have that vast distance between them.

Instead, he's setting out to visit each of the ships and meet the people on board. He likes people and he likes meeting and talking with people and he'd far rather do that face to face.

Don't worry. He doesn't take up much space and he takes up no supplies. He just wants to meet people.

But... he gives The Tourist and The Three Twins a wide berth. Fenris had been very clear that he was not to see Cole again and Cole will respect that by avoiding the places he seems to be.

Anyone from those ships will have to be visitors somewhere else to run into Cole.
child_of_bhaal: (okay then)
[personal profile] child_of_bhaal
Who: Syeira and anyone!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva
When: Midnight April 2nd (mostly to avoid any confusing with the April Fools stuff going on)

[It is not a graceful waking. The figure covered in a shimmery cloak suddenly startles awake, over alert, mostly fighting with the fabric as it tangles them up like a net. The person falls out of the bunk, making a sound like a discordant windchime when they land. Only then do they fight the clasp open and fling the cloak off, taking in a gasp of air, as if they'd been choking.

It's a girl, with wild curly long hair, the color of freshly spilt blood. She's wide eyed for a moment, before whatever she'd been dreaming about faded. Then reality sinks in around her. Definitely not Suldanessellar, and she's definitely alone. A quick pat shows she's been disarmed.

She heaves a big sigh, running both hands through her hair -oh look, she's going pointed ears- and letting her ehad fall back against the bunk behind her with a controlled thud.
]

Is it Second-day already? And here I thought I'd at least get one night to myself before my next abduction.

[She shivers, realizing she's still cold, when the chill from her nightmare should be seeping away. She rubs her arms, and then awkwardly yanks the cloak out from under her. Standing, she puts the thing back on, and if anyone has been watching this little scene from the start, suddenly that attractiveness she has seems to kick up a notch or two. Magic. Now huddled inside the shimmery cloak, she goes about getting her bearings. In doing so, she discovers her communicator, after having accidentally kicked it a little. Oops. Picking that up, she holds it in her palm for a moment, realizing she knows what this thing does. A think she's never seen before.

Tsk. Nod. Just great.
]

And I've been force fed knowledge about things I've never seen. Gosh, is it my birthday too?

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