driftfleet | Entries tagged with ladon ceto

Who: Crowley and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Iskaulit
When: Right now!

[Crowley isn't in his usual place, lounging before the communications array aboard the Pathstone. Today, he seems to be wandering one of the big, empty spaces within the Iskaulit, looking around him with a small level of appraisal. ]

Back in Paradisa, there were a number of bars around the place. Gave people a place to go spend time, drown their sorrows, maybe people watch, or just sit in a corner and ignore the fact they were trapped in a magical soul-eating castle. One of my favourite places was a bar called the Lux. Great place, that.

[He wanders over to one part of the room, holding one hand out like he's trying to judge the space. ]

Discounting the fleeting places we end up on our travels, we haven't got anywhere like that here. Our own Drift Fleet captives place. Seen as we have this floating lot of empty space following us now, we might as well use it. So this is me, laying claim to this space for a bar that will be named at a later date. Something classy, I think.

Of course, work isn't my thing, so anyone interested in joining me in this grand and marvellous enterprise? I'd say I'll make it worth your while, but I think having our own bar will do that all by itself.

justamobster

Who: Ladon Ceto and various folks!
Broadcast: None.
Action: Several places!
When: Early August.

( Sucked all the love through the scar. )

justamobster

Who: Ladon Ceto and ~~alcohol and self-loathing~~ you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Tourist cockpit
When: Post bug plot.

[ Ladon's been a rare sight lately, mostly because he's either been keeping an eye on Lucky or afterward, keeping to himself. There aren't caves here, so his instinct to hide and try to sulk through the pain has instead been replaced with his more human-like means of coping. That is, he's been getting really drunk and hating the world with every fiber of his being. If there has been a sober moment since he found Lucky's office empty, he can't really recall.

Currently he's seated in the cockpit of the Tourist, and thankfully he's not attempting to do any piloting, because he's definitely not in any state to be doing so. There may not be concrete walls or cliffs in space, but he'd probably find a way to wreck the ship anyway.

Either way, the fact that this broadcast is video is likely the result of those drunken motor skills, because the angle is weird, and he's typically an audio-only user. He's also not dressed as well as usual, gone is the tie and the vest and the suit jacket. His hat is stubbornly glued to his head, but currently he's in an undershirt, suspenders, and the pants from his suit. He also hasn't shaved in a bit, and is looking particularly scruffy.

He rubs at his chin, eliciting a scratchy noise, and he taps his half-empty glass of bourbon against the arm rest. ]

Ain't usually the type t'go givin' unsolicited advice but. [ He sighs. ] Some of you folks know, I been in a place like this before. Space station, was there for 'round a year. Anyhow. These places... they put us through some real shit, yeah? Some real... heavy shit. People hurt and get sick and die and you gotta work together to fix it. You gotta fight together. You gotta take care of each other. S'the only way to stay sane.

[ He takes a drink of the bourbon, winces a bit as it burns its way down. ] What I'm sayin' is... S'hard not to go gettin' attached, yeah? People you meet from other worlds, they ain't so bad, you make friends. Maybe more, hell if I know. But I just gotta say... Don't make the same mistakes I went makin'. Don't get attached. Because it ends, yeah? One way or the other, you go or they go. Best you can hope is you go first, and you fuckin' forget.

Ain't gonna stop most of you, I know. Gotta learn the hard way. But hell if I ain't gonna try sayin' it anyhow. Because I wouldn't wish this on fuckin' anyone.

S'all.

[ And he cuts the feed. He can be found in the pilot chair still some time later, if anyone wants to deal with his drunken ass in person. ]

birdsbirdsbirds

Who: Robin
Broadcast: Video!
Action: None!
When: Now!

---

[hey, it's Robin. he's lounging around in his captain's chair, feet up on the control panel. he's twirling something around in his fingers--it looks kind of like a glow stick? it's a glass cylinder filled with some sort of glowing, red liquid.]

Back in those casino stations, I won one of these.

[he stops twirling the cylinder. when he holds it up closer to the camera, you can see that it's capped with silver on one end. the insides seem to be bubbling a little, as if the liquid is carbonated.]

This is a Luxilizer... though most people below the surface just called them Dummy Sticks, as in, you were an idiot if you walked around the lower levels without them. They're filled with a liquid extracted from a luminescent fungus that grows in the caves of my hometown.

[he twirls it again. Robin himself doesn't seem particularly delighted about the thing, he's just casually explaining, perhaps out of boredom.]

They were originally designed as a backup light source, in case a person got lost in the tunnels. It also makes it easier for others to see them. It can get pretty dangerous down there, in the dark...

[after a pause, he grips the glowing tube and smiles at the camera.]

It's funny to me. No one where I'm from would give these a second thought, but I've learned that underground cities are not a familiar concept in most worlds.

---

( Private to Jason Todd; )

wilder

Who: Kaneis Major
Broadcast: Voice, all fleet.
Action: SS Wonderduck
When: This week!

[What's this? An actual transmission from Kaneis? It's on voice only, and guess what- he sounds as apathetic as ever.]

Hey, I don't want to alarm anyone, but I was looking at the scans earlier while trying not to crash into these space rocks- asteroids? Whatever.

Anyway, you remember those guys that tried to kill us about two months ago? The guys that kicked the living crap outta us? Those guys? Yeah, I think they're back again. At least, that's what the scanner says, it's hard to really get a good read.

[He gives a yawn] Yeah. Just thought someone would like to know.

forgetyourusedtobe

Who: Elena Gilbert and YOOUUU!!!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Starstruck if you wanna??
When: rite meow!!!

I just want to say that I really appreciate everyone's who's answered my questions about this place, but now that I've had a little time to get settled, [and stop silently panicking] I'm curious about what home is like for everyone.

And since you've been here, have you seen anything like home?

[And since she doesn't really expect to be able to ask and not give an answer herself,]

My world's nothing all that special probably in comparison to some of yours. It's 2012, Earth, with modern-day technology that's nowhere near as advanced as all of this. I live in Mystic Falls, Virginia in a country called the United States.

We do have magic, but I can't do any of it. I only know about it because my best friend was a witch. [And it's invaded every part of her life for the past couple of years, but ssshhh.] Magic where I come from has a balance, it's rooted in nature and spirits of ancestors. So the further down the line of witches you are, the more power you can have. But you have to maintain the balance of nature or the spirits of your ancestors will cut you off.

There are other kinds of magic, but they're bad news and not something you want to mess with. It has some really bad consequences for the user since it ignores maintaining the balance.

[And she leaves it there. She's not willing to out herself as a vampire or acknowledge the existence of other supernatural beings beyond witches and spirits.]

gunslinger

Who: Jr. & you!
Broadcast: Video (Fleetwide)
Action: Marsiva!
When: nowiiiish

[ If the communicator enjoys being on when someone's still waking up, it's in for the usual wtfery treat, and the deceptively boyish voice of this little dude isn't going to soften the language any. He awakens quickly, knocking the communicator right onto the floor in his hurry to jump up, the visual now of the ceiling. ]

What the hell?! Where—

[ There's some shuffling and then hurried clacks of boots darting across the room (checking out that window) and then quietly lingering near some of the video screens. Angry yes, but he wants to figure out what's going on before he panics. It's only a minute or two with muffled sounds in the backgrounds before he runs off to explore, can you blame him? It's another ten minutes before a distant: ]

Sons of bitches!

[ is released off-screen, and those clacking steps close back in with surprising speed, the communicator jarring around so his face can come into view, and it's not a happy face (but still a kid's face). Not enough info, and he can't find anyone who has real answers. ]

Hey! Where are my guns?! Atromos! You another Testament?! You watching in your crystal ball, and you want a show?! [ Literally shouted like this is NOTHING NEW to him, despite his angrypants. ] You think I care? Can't even lock me up for real? You're either lazy or cocky!

[ Good luck even getting a word in, friends, as he's off destroying as much as he can. If something can be knocked onto the floor, it's gonna be. If he can grab it and smash it, he's gonna. If a telekinetic blast can slam it into a wall, then bam. It's not just a rage fit; he wants to piss someone off enough to lure them out for confrontation. Then maybe he'll get somewhere. ]

Hey, hey, your ship is a pile of crap. I've seen better ships flushed into Federation scrapyards! Uglier than sin and the charm's kinda lost with this tacky communication gear. It's better off this way, trust me —

[ A few lights shatter in bursts as he walks down a hall, but his tone is actually growing calmer (if sharper). ]

— but if you don't think so, you better come and join the party or tell me where my friends and crew are.

thebarkside

SOS
i have completely forgotten how to cope with cabin fever

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.

justamobster

Who: Ladon Ceto
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Caprine
When: After Ladon's visit to the planet.

[ Ladon does not sound happy. Not that he's ever on the perky side, but there's a heavy and serious timbre to his voice. He's not messing around. ]

Need a doctor to the Caprine. Soon as possible.

Rest of you-- Anyone else gone to sleep and not wakin' up? This somethin' that happens here? Need answers.

[ After a pause, his voice softens a bit, both in tone and in volume, likely because he's no longer speaking directly into the device. ] S'all right, doll. M'here. Ain't goin' anywhere, yeah? S'all right.

[ Action-wise, Ladon can be found in Lucky's office, kneeling next to the couch where she's stretched out, fast asleep, holding one of her hands in his. He's not likely to budge until a doctor gets there to check her out. ]

princessia

Who: EVERYONE!
Broadcast: Maybe, if you want?!
Action: The Planet
When: From May 11th until the end of the month

[ Willing to venture away from the casinos and investigate the nearby green planet? Here's your chance, now that it's in range!

THIS IS A MINGLE. GET HERE. ]

[ Make your own prompts, explore the planet, spend a night there, piss it off by taking its plants, whatever! MAY STAR SYSTEM OOC POST for your reference on getting through the orbit, what's on the planet, etc.! ]

dancingmd

Who: Beverly Crusher
Broadcast: No
Action: Blue Fish
When: May 10 (Mother's Day for anyone who celebrates it)

[Having had her fill of the casino scene for now, Beverly is back on board the Blue Fish, hard at work in their sickbay. She quickly discovered that she is unable to download the Starfleet database from her newly-obtained tricorder to the ship's computers, so she has been painstakingly typing up some of the more important information. Right now, she's going back over some of her own medical logs from the Enterprise, editing typos and adding comments where necessary. It's a slow process, but the more projects she has to work on, the better. Today is a day she'd rather not think too much about.

Unfortunately for her, Atroma is not going to allow that to happen.

Hi, Mom! says a bright, chipper voice. A voice she would recognize anywhere, the most important voice in the world to her.

She stands abruptly, knocking her chair over in the process. Where is his voice coming from? Did he... is he really here? A momentary surge of hope flows through her.]

Wesley?

[He continues to speak, Sorry I haven't written in a while. Things have been so crazy at the Academy lately. We got a new member of the Nova Squadron today, her name is Sito Jaxa and she's from Bajor! She's got a pretty cute nose...

Beverly gasps, feeling as if someone's just stabbed her in the heart and twisted the knife. This is only a recording, and an old one at that, before the incident with the Squadron, before Sito... scrambling around the room, she finds the tricorder where she left it sitting on a nearby table. A small hologram of Wesley is being projected above it as he talks. For a solid minute or two, she simply stares at the hologram, not really comprehending his words.

Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a happy Mother's Day! I miss you! His smile is so wide, so happy, and then the hologram shuts off. Beverly picks up the tricorder and scrolls through the messages. There they all are, every single letter he ever sent her while he was away, the videos she sent back of planets she had visited, holoimages of the two of them together on the Enterprise. She is absolutely certain these weren't here when she first got the tricorder out of the voucher machine. Selecting another letter at random, she hits play. There's no hologram this time, but he's excited: it was his first day of zero-g training. She picks up her fallen chair and drags it over to the table so she can sit and just listen.

Suddenly, it all gets to be too much and she begins to cry. Once she starts, she finds she can't stop, so she just lets it go and falls forward, elbows on the table and head in her hands, desperately hoping no one will see her like this.]

princess_sparklefists

Who: Carol Danvers and you!
Broadcast: Video, fleetwide
Action: SS Heron, if you want to go talk to her on the bridge
When: First week of May idk

Good evening, Heron, this is your pilot speaking!

[ She is clearly enjoying being able to say that... and if it comes out in a tone the rest of the Avengers would recognize as "Carol's about to do something dumb in a Quinjet", well, no one here knows to be concerned by that. Yet. ]

And to the rest of the fleet, especially the pilots... I'm actually a fighter pilot, where I'm from. US Air Force, plenty of combat experience, plenty of flight hours in unconventional crafts and in space. So... what I'm saying is, I might have a few tricks these augments won't teach you, and I wouldn't mind sharing them. Hell, I'll see what we can do with the shuttles if anyone without a pilot augment wants to give it a shot.

[ She grins, playful challenge. ] Anyone feel like a race? Let's see what these birds can really do. [ Preferably before they get in trouble again and need to know how far they can push the ships before they break... but she's not bringing that up now. Kind of kills the spirit of friendly competition. ]

Also... I need someone to help me build a breathing apparatus that functions separately from the spacesuits they've got here. There's only so far my engineering knowledge goes, and I'd rather get a second set of eyes on this than find out I screwed it up and suffocate in the void of space. Done it, not fun, do not recommend. [ What? She's not planning anything. Definitely not. ]

serpentis

Who: Dorian Pavus
Broadcast: YOU KNOW IT! FLEET WIDE.
Action: Only if you can find him!
When: RIGHT MEOW.

[Dorian is reading from a book with a woman and a man on the gover, clearing his throat and grinning impishly.]

Ah, good afternoon. I thought I might treat you to this book I found. Let's see here...

[He flips through the pages]

“He gives us a sack of tatties of a Friday. And sometimes after kirk he delivers a haggis..." No, that started promising, but that's not it, let's see here...

[He flips through the pages, frowning to himself, occasionally looking slightly scandalized, he gets nearly through the whole book, when FINALLY.]

Ahah! Here we are.

[He clears his throat, and starts in. As he reads, he's a positive ham about it.]

“Savages such as you, such as I.” He kissed her lightly at first, his lips brushing against hers and his hands sliding down her sides.

“Is that what we are, Gavin Macgregor? Savages?” Gavin pulled away from her, sucking her lip softly between his and tasting every inch of the woman he’d loved for his entire life for the first time. He tilted his head to one side. “Ach, you may be more savage than me by twice.”

So close that their breath mixed between them, the walls around the pair seemed to vanish. Kenna slid her hands down Gavin’s arms, her fingers bouncing over every little muscle and tendon. She looked down at his chest, then back into his eyes, lost in the ocean she found.

Words, words, I don't even know half of what this man is saying...here we go...

She closed her eyes and Gavin kissed her along her jaw, behind her ear. Kenna’s skin prickled to life where he kissed, and where the heat from his palms burned through her dress.

[And then he flips the page, and then again. There are only a handful of pages left in the book.]

...that's it? I was hoping for more than just a single kiss!

[He makes a disgusted noise and pitches the book over his shoulder.]

save_the_souls

Who: YOU! ME! EVERYBODY!
Broadcast: MAYBE!
Action: Casino Stations and regular waystations.
When: First half of May!

[Welcome to the Roads to Riches, lucky members of the fleet! Come here for a wonderful mingle for all your gambling and waystation needs! IN OTHER WORDS, GET IN HERE ITS TIME FOR A MINGLE]

[OOC INFORMATION POST]

justamobster

Who: Ladon Ceto and yooooou~
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Waystation, near a non-fleet ship.
When: Prior to leaving the waystation/VRD area (obviously)

[ There's a sniff when the feed kicks on, like someone with allergies or a slightly runny nose. When Ladon finally speaks, he sounds a bit out of breath. ]

Anyone wanna make some quick dough? Need some help loadin' a shuttle. By the red and black ship, one that ain't ours. Might pay extra if you don't go askin' too many questions.

[ Action; ]

[ Ladon can be found loitering around a non-fleet ship with an open cargo bay and one of the Tourist's shuttles. The ship appears to be outfitted to carry cargo, a good seven large crates of which have been brought down to the end of the loading ramp.

Ladon himself looks a little worse for wear. The sniffing appears to be the result of a bloody nose, which he keeps mopping with a handkerchief. His one eye is starting to turn black and blue, and there are a few spatters of blood that have likely ruined his new white t-shirt, along with a tear at the shoulder.

More observant parties might notice the taste of electricity in the air and the subtle smell of some sort of gasoline/lighter fluid-like chemical. Whoever the crew are for this ship, none of them are around. There are a few smears of blood on the loading ramp, but nothing large enough to indicate anything too nefarious.

Something's fishy, but that's why he's offering extra money for no questions asked, after all. ]

asinisterkid

Who: Jason Todd, and whoever wants to bother him.
Broadcast: None
Action: VRD // Waystation
When: 4/21, in the wee hours of the morning // 4/27, mid-afternoon.

{{ It's two, two, two events in one! The first will be a lovely VR romp through Gotham at night, set up for his new friends, but open to anyone who feels like crashing the party. The second, taking place a week later in honor of Jason's Death Day (4/27), will involve a lot of alcohol. OMG SO MUCH ALCOHOL. And as many fights as he can get away with starting at the nearest Waystation. }}

( VRD shenanigans: PARKOUR! )

( Waystation: Jason will kick your ass as soon as he figures out how to stand up. )

princess_sparklefists

Who: Carol Danvers
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Friday afternoon (04/24)

[Video]
[ Carol's muttering as she turns on the feed, clearly talking to herself rather than anyone listening. ] -can't even get one month back on Earth before I have to deal with this shit again. I swear to god if that insane little raccoon shows up...

[ She clears her throat and straightens her shoulders, taking on a military bearing. The uniform she's wearing is a little too colorful to be military, but never mind that. ] Hello... Fleet? Captain Marvel of the Avengers here, and I did not sign up for a trip to space today, but here we all are. Don't know if any of you will know what the Avengers are, but apparently we've got some name recognition out here since the Builders War, so who knows? You can call me Carol.

Does someone want to fill me in on how long this has been going on? What planets everyone's from? Do we know anything about who took us? Annnd while we're at it... If someone could describe the ship I'm on right now, that'd be great. Can't tell anything from the inside except that it's big, and I can't find the doors or teleports or whatever they're using to get around in here.

( And action! )

dragonflight

Who: Wrathion + ~~minions~~ yOU
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Marsiva
When: present day; present time

[Wrathion didn't much like sleep these days. Every time he shut his eyes, visions of Azeroth's dark futures tormented him, taunted him. The Burning Legion's advance seemed closer every day, and his plans to prepare for their arrival were constantly thwarted by the very people he was trying to protect. Adventurers these days. No sense of the big picture. No gratitude. No understanding of what their own world needed.

So: he's angry when he wakes up on the Marsiva. Almost angry enough for a tantrum. He wants to scream, spout fire, rip apart the cots and, following that, anyone he sees.

But no. He lies there for a few minutes, breathing hard, his thoughts racing, his eyes shut tight. He's struck by a series of half-remembered images, by his own understanding that Azeroth is a jewel in a sea of perfect, glittering darkness.

A million, million worlds ...

Yes. Kairoz's plan had been interesting, but limited. He sought to make one world's resources infinite, but Wrathion knows that the universe itself is already infinite. He has seen it, in waking dreams and lucid prophecies.

He can find more people here. More worlds. More tools.

Wrathion's breathing evens out. All was not lost. Far from it, he tells himself. Far from it.

His eyes open, bright red, glowing hot like lava, the blood of the earth.

He notices the cameras, takes in the situation, runs his fingers over the chip in his neck. Fresh knowledge swirls in his mind, and this he truly appreciates, because who would spit on knowing more, on being the granted the capacity to do and make more?

Wrathion stands up, makes a show of dusting himself off. Everything's intact--well, except his dagger, that's curiously missing, but no matter. He adjusts the turban wrapped around his head; its inlaid rubies twinkle, and are cool to the touch. His red sash, filigreed with gold, is tied securely around his waist. His gold earring gleams in the stark light of the Marsiva's deck.

Near as he can tell--and he can tell--he looks fantastic.

Wrathion turns a shark-toothed grin toward the cameras. He opens his arms as though he's the one welcoming visitors, rather than the other way around.]

Greetings and salutations, whomever you may be! I admit, I'm not used to such, ah, minimalist hospitality, but one must do his best to adjust, no?

[It's clear that Wrathion is--physically, at least--no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, but he speaks with deliberate, cultured enunciation, like someone who knows he's being watched. Like someone who behaves as though he's always being watched.]

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Wrathion, and I hail from Azeroth. I am called the Black Prince, for I am the last dragon of my otherwise tragically doomed flight.

[His smile doesn't move an inch.]

I look forward to making your acquaintance. I'm sure, if we work on it, we can all have a mutually beneficial partnership.

justamobster

Who: Ladon Ceto and Toby "Lucky" Daye
Broadcast: No. You guys don't want this broadcast. It's gonna be sappy.
Action: The Caprine, and possibly later the VRD.
When: Just after the shuffle. Like, immediately.

( Are harder to hide than I thought. )

THE DRIFT FLEET

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Entries tagged with ladon ceto

004 - Friends in Low Places

I ripped a hole through your heart

05 // Video

(no subject)

Voice

Є002

video ☣ fleetwide

text

video / action

04 // Audio

THE PLANET MINGLE

(no subject)

(no subject)

006 // spoiler alert

ROADS TO RICHES MINGLE POST

03 // Audio;

002

Captain Whizbang reporting

sigil of wisdom

Secrets I have held in my heart

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