driftfleet | Entries tagged with souji seta

Who: Mihael "Mello" Keehl & open.
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Marsiva. Hospitality deck.
When: Current.

( i accidentally tl;dred by default... )

Disregard any messages from another I.D. of someone with my name and face.

And you. You'll talk to me.

axeboyfriend

Who: Shinjiro
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva, Hospitality Deck
When: Current

[ The video starts, but it would be easy to assume at first that the young man featured in it was still asleep. He's got a grey beanie shoved over his eyes in a manner that was definitely intentional. But after a long moment, he groans and sits up, pulling the beanie up so he can see what he's doing. ]

...Ugh. Where...

[ He does notice the camera after a moment, and he freezes. It's with an entirely unhappy scowl that he turns away after a moment, looking around. ]

What the hell is this?

[ He didn't ask for this, and he definitely doesn't seem impressed to be the latest member of intergalactic reality television. ]

paraclete

Who: Kaworu Nagisa, and maybe you!
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva
When: The evening of 1/26.

[This could be strange, but it looks like the pale youth currently on camera is a leisurely waker. He shifts several times, then pulls himself into a sitting position, slowly... His eyes are closed, and he's running a hand through his hair. Finally, something strikes him. With the lightest crease between his brows, the boy starts breathing (was he not breathing before?) and opens his eyes. The irises are red and clear.]

Again, huh? [he murmurs, but his hands drag down until he's touching first his own waist, his hips, then back up to his shoulders, his arms... The action might be more provocative than he means for it to be, thanks to the space age skintight bodysuit he's wearing. He touches his neck. He frowns.]

I see. Not 'again', but still... [But Kaworu's a fan of being vague, so he'll leave it at that. Instead, he shifts in his seat so that his legs dangle over the side of the cot, and leans forward to reach for the communicator. Now, with a closer look at his face, it's clear that he's confused to the point that it causes him pain — he looks like he's got a pretty bad headache. Regardless, whether he's broadcasting to captors or captives, he wants to put on a gentler face. He exhales, and his expression smooths out considerably, though his eyes still hint at stress.]

Lilin, yes, but non-Lilin among you. This is beyond any experience I would have anticipated. It's as though there are more keys on the piano, but they play in notes I've never heard before. It could take some practice to make a song out of that. But practice is just time and effort, right? [And now he can smile. It's something soft and easy, an expression of reassurance for anyone who can see it.] It would be nice if we could practice together.

[The smile thins into something more grave. He's certain he died, and Shinji was physically fine and accounted for when that happened. Kaworu had no reason to doubt that Shinji would find guidance. Now, though, of course he's wondering about this new place and its captives: if they can harvest a dead child, would they take a living child in close proximity? With Shinji here, it could mean danger beyond what Kaworu is prepared for. But to be without Shinji here is also to be without purpose. Either way, he's got to find out.]

Excuse me, [he says,] but I've lost a friend. I imagine several of you have done the same, in being brought to this place. But, have any of you recovered them? That's what I'd like to know most of all about this situation. [The smile has come back, and it's probably for the best, since it looks so natural on his face. Once Kaworu starts smiling, it's almost hard to believe he'd ever stopped in the first place.] Thanks, [he says sincerely.]

—

[Through the corridors of the Marsiva comes a young man — a boy, with a face easily taken for youthful — and he smells very strongly of blood. His plugsuit, though still clinging to him, has been cleaned, but the scent of blood still rises thick from his hair, his skin. Anyway, he looks curious, so he must be someone new. But it's not the mysterious halls that make him wonder so much as the creatures who inhabit them.

He's walking around with both hands level with his chest, and his fingers stick out at odd angles, some raised, some lowered — it brings to mind the image of someone doing mental math, and really struggling with a problem. When he sees you, it becomes clear that you're a part of the equation. If you're a human, he ticks off one of the fingers of his right hand, like he's counting. If you're not human, he does the same with his left. He seems enthralled.]

astrobleme

Who: Shinji Ikari and everyone ever.
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Marsiva, for all the new arrivals.
When: Right now, and he'll be available until the Shuffle, huddling in his bunk or counting the stars. Feel free to contact or approach him anytime.

[There's no explosion of sight or sound. No exposition. No questions. Nothing attention-grabbing at all. Just that omnipresent sci-fi hum and the sidelong view of a young boy, no older than fourteen or fifteen, lying on his back in one of Marsiva's complimentary bunks. The boy, Shinji, is staring straight upward at whatever is above him. He isn't animated except for the feeble rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. The only noteworthy thing is what he's wearing: it appears to be a form-fitting wetsuit with rib-shaped accents and other curious details.

Ten seconds later, he hasn't moved. He doesn't acknowledge that he's somewhere very new, with yet another unfamiliar ceiling. Twenty seconds later, he hasn't moved. Thirty seconds later, he hasn't moved. By now, most new arrivals would probably figure out they're not where they're meant to be, for better or worse. They'll address the network instead of continuing to stare into nothingness with a distinctly corpselike quality to their face. But, one minute later, he's still staring listlessly. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes. He isn't aware of anyone or anything near to him. This is undoubtedly the most boring show in the universe, which might make it avant-garde--fifteen minutes. Twenty. Twenty-five.

A full half-hour later, for viewers with the patience to stick around, he still hasn't moved or said anything. (Hopefully you aren't watching this live, so you can just fast-forward through the eerie silence.) It's thirty minutes and thirteen seconds, exactly, when he looks to the side with a dry, audible creak of his neck. He's looking at the communication device. Maybe he recognizes it, but it's hard to tell what he's thinking. Even he can't tell what he's thinking. Then, unsteady enough to resemble a marionette, he reaches over to grab the device from where it's resting. The view dissolves into the dark purple blur of his palm.

Just before the odd broadcast cuts off, he appends a text message.]

Sorry. I didn't know.

( action, aboard the Marsiva: )

thespaceopera

[On today's episode of the Drift Fleet:

The cargo holds are full of mysterious crates! The crews are filling beyond capacity with new faces! Official alerts are informing the passengers that they are signed to contracts that they've never agreed to! They are docking at the dazzling FS Starlight, but are flat broke!

What are they going to do!? Stay tuned to find out!

...Meaning, this is a kickoff mingle for you all to enjoy the beginning of the latest plot setting. This is a convenient place to start threads relating to the first week of the event-- meeting new crewmembers, reacting to the mysterious cargo, arriving on the station and discovering that you're all broke, etc.

Tag around, start whatever you'd like, have fun. And, as always, feel free to make your own posts and mingles from here on in, as this will be the only mod-posted one for this event!]

ofthursday

Who: Castiel (the 500% done one)
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva
When: Jan 20th

[Castiel doesn't sleep--not anymore, anyway--so finding himself waking up is an unusual thing. It usually means he's been seriously injured, but he doesn't remember anything that would cause him to come to awareness suddenly in a place that was not where he was previously; it doesn't alarm him much, but it does cause more than a little confusion. This is definitely not the Crystal Palace.

He explores a few rooms to begin with, cautious and on guard, but it seems there's no immediate threat and he takes a moment to check his pockets. Then he discovers the communicator, and then he starts to get really annoyed. There's no way. It isn't Adstringendum's PCD, but it's similar, and...

Ugh.

He fumbles with the communicator for a moment before figuring out how to broadcast, showing an extremely unimpressed angel who hasn't yet realized how awkwardly timed this post will be after the last one.]

This is entirely ridiculous. Where am I now?

[Not like his luck isn't normally bad enough that getting dragged into another dimension not all that long after figuring out how to break out of Adstringendum would be a shock, but really? Really?

Also that's it for the post. He'll be more chatty when he's not so annoyed.

If anyone wants to encounter him, after his post and while responding he'll be wandering the Marsiva, investigating the Hospitality Deck.]

kotatsu

Who: Three Twins crew and visitors!
Broadcast: Nah
Action: On the Three Twins!
When: all month bro

[ ~~i've been gone for a month what's been happening who's even on this ship anymore????~~come do the mingle thing, everyone is welcome! ]

vagabond_code

Who: Clint "a Hawkeye" Barton and yous guys
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Marsiva
When: This evening

[Clint begins his broadcast with his hearing aids in, but the result is a series of false starts where it’s obvious from the wincing and the head-turning that he’s dealing with some sort of loud or high-pitched feedback. It isn’t long before he ditches them - rips them off and pockets them - and starts over again. lips it is, then ]

Alright this isn’t going to be a big thing - I just want to put my face out there.

[And he pauses, counting out the seconds for whoever might be looking to take a look at their beep-machines and catch sight of him.]

Oh, and to whoever brought us here, nice ship. Also, you’ve got some balls, kidnapping someone who carries one of these in his wallet:

[Casually, meaningfully, accidentally, he produces a blockbuster membership card, with the printed name Clinton F. Barton and a signature. When he catches his mistake he tosses the card down out of frame and the camera catches him thumbing through the inside of his wallet. Following that, the sound of him mumbling:]

Futzing Avengers ID, never around when you… [He trails off. The feed doesn’t.]

[A little later, sitting wherever there’s a seat to be claimed aboard the Marsiva, he’ll be found picking cards out of his wallet and tossing them down onto a table. Reorganizing, dismissing some, yet the cards that he doesn’t tuck back into their leathery hideaway are all landing corner-to-corner in a perfect even pile.

A little later, you might catch him sprawled out and napping. Because he naps. He’s a napper.]

mistyday

Who: Misty Day
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: January 5

[A woman wearing all black lies face up in her bunk, perfectly still, her arms straight out by her sides. It's impossible to tell if she's breathing or not, but surely she must be, right?

Right?

Watch long enough and you'll see her come alive, shooting straight up with a gasp that becomes a heart-wrenching sob. Tears stream down her face and she rocks back and forth. She's saying something over and over, but the only word that can be heard clearly is "No, no, no." This goes on for a long minute before she really seems to realize where she is.

Or rather, where she is not.]

Cordelia?!

[She scrambles out of the bed and stands in the middle of the room, calling out in her thick Louisiana accent.]

Zoe? .... Myrtle?

[She sinks back on to the bed, clutching her head in her hands, her breathing becoming increasingly labored as she tries to fight the panic.]

Shit, shit, shit. Oh God, please, help me. This ain't right at all.

[Not knowing what else to do, she assumes her prior position, closes her eyes, and starts to chant. Those from Earth might recognize it as Latin.]

Spiritu duce, in me est. [Deep breath.] Spiritu... duce. Spiritu - [Another sob and she rolls over on her side and curls into a fetal position.] No, no. I can't... I can't go back there.

takeabow

Who: Nova & u
Broadcast: Yep!
Action: First Breath
When: Early January

[ Nova pops up on your various devices. She's in the galley in the First Breath and she has a lot of paper-wrapped meat on camera. ]

I've been doing some hunting and I have various cuts if someone wants to trade for them. I don't think we have quite enough room to make a meat locker out of the First Breath. First come, first serve. I'll probably go out and try for more when some of this gets cleared out. This place has enough salt to preserve a planet.

[ for anyone looking to see her in person, she can be found in the kitchen, though probably in the midst of dealing with meat cuts ]

tothefly

Who: Windrose crew and you, distinguished visitors!
Broadcast: Naaah.
Action: Windrose, various points in the near vicinity
When: Until we get off this frozen rock

[On New Year's Day, the crew on board the Windrose and those nearby may notice the chill as the doors to the cargo bay are left open, and their captain making quite a bit of noise as she inspects their newly expanded home away from home. This is likely to go on for a while. Feel free to come investigate, chat among yourselves, complain about the cold, etc!]

theroadwarrior

Who: Max Rockatansky and you
Broadcast: Voice Broadcast
Action: The HS Marsiva
When: Upon waking this week (MERRY CHRISTMAS, MAX.)

[The last thing Max recalls is marching quietly through the thick green underbrush of a planet that certainly wasn't earth — it was where the Tranquility had crash-landed, a place that was at least better than the endless captivity of space. Out there in the jungles he could stretch his legs, out-walk the ghosts as best he usually could. The issues with the acidic water and tainted meat aside (which was close enough to home to not even faze him proper), it was a welcomed new world to hide out in.

So it stands to reason that when he wakes up, he's not humored by the scenery. Unlike his awakening from the pods in the Tranquility, though, he isn't violent and wild and frantic in his escape. His mind is in a good place this month — he's not greeted by illness and a barrage of angry spirits condemning him. It doesn't mean he's happy about it, though, and he's certainly as on edge as ever. Sitting up, he finds his new brace still strapped on, courtesy of Tadashi — and he's got his jacket, but the supply pack that he had so carefully hoarded and withheld from prying eyes is gone. And that is plenty to sour his already snappy mood.

And he's torn. On the jacket. On one hand, it looks — brand new, looks like the jacket the 20-something wore, back when he wasn't a psychotic, a vulture on the roads outrunning himself. And Max is also someone who, out in the sands with nothing new to speak of, appreciates when things are in better conditions than not. On the other hand... someone changed his jacket, and that's not their jacket to change, and he doesn't like when people touch his things.

So here he is, familiar enough with the network style to use it, social enough by the power of being unimpressed and insulted by the obvious violation to his person by changing his fucking things around —at first it's incoherent little mutters, as if Max turned on the voice function but didn't care much to use it right away (hint: he didn't).]

Where is my pack.

[He's so sweet tonight, ladies and gents.]

(Below is potential action; warning for self-harm, though slight and re: the augment.)

[He feels something stretch his skin, something on his head, behind his ear. When he feels along and finds the bulge there, something in his chest tightens and his stomach flip-flops. Aboard the Tranquility, there was a tattoo on the arm. In fact, it's still there on his — scrambled, ugly and indecipherable, a reminder of his time on the other ship. Just as the hand-shaped burn on his forearm is. But this, this is different. This makes his hackles rise, makes him rise up and anxiously begin to pace through the ship. Little slivers of incoherence pokes through, tinny voices stifled by his own attempt to keep them at bay. Mind games. Something's under his skin, and he needs to get it out. It's putting things there that he doesn't remember knowing before.

The utensils in the kitchen will do, got to get this thing out of him, like scalding scorpion poison on the edge of a spear.

He gets one slice into the flesh there before he stops, blinks, and lowers the barely bloodied tool on the counter. No — stupid idea. Think harder, Max. He rubs his eyes and thinks about trajectories and switches and sliding into the seat of a ship and piloting it. Out in the stars. It's different from the small shuttles aboard the Tranquility. He knows more than he should. It must be this place. Must have inputted this invasive thing in his system. Could kill him if he tries to mess with it anymore. Control yourself. Relax.

He instead leaves the soiled knife on the counter and instead finds something (it doesn't matter what) to eat from the many areas in the kitchen, sits down on a counter with a loud grumble-huff of air, and begins the easier task of shoveling canned meat into his mouth while he settles his nerves and redirects his mind to a sharper, finer point that he's grown more capable of achieving. The voices vanish under the mechanical chomp of his jaws.

As he relaxes, he reviews the different mechanics of piloting out loud to himself, down to each use of buttons, levers, and gauges.

Probably helpful for what he considers a sure-fire attempt at escaping his new prison, for later.

You know how it is. Rough day, new place. Conjuring different ways to steal shuttles and fuck off into space.]

cpt_ressentiment

Who: Yosuke and YOU!!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: On the Ice Planet
When: Broadcast: 12/13 || Action: The entire time we're here!

► [ video ]

[ Yosuke's standing just along the outskirts of one of the settlements planetside. He's dressed as warmly as he can manage, but more importantly... that's a snowball in his hand. And a grin on his face - one that's more mischievous than anything. Oh boy. ]

Yo! I was thinking... I don't know about you guys, but I'm pretty okay with the idea of getting out of the ships and stretching my legs a little, no matter how cold it is. Besides, you know how many awesome things you can do in the snow? A lot. And you know what one of the better things you can do is? Snowball fights.

I seriously want to set up a bunch of 'em. Maybe we can make it into a regular thing so long as we're here? Anyway, they don't all have to be the same set-up, either. We can do teams - crew versus crew, or just friends - or an all-out free-for-all... Hell, we could probably come up with something like flags to capture! So, c'mon, who's in?

I should be pretty easy to find. If you're interested, let's do this!

(( OoC: Come get into a snowball fight and bring your friends! Threadhopping encouraged! Party hard! If you wanna cut to the chase, just assume we talked about it and start up an action thread! Everyone should totally just hit each other with snowballs!! ))

( private video to Souji )

tallasaking

Who: Tyrion Lannister
Broadcast: Everyone
Action: In the Engineering Room of First Breath, building Stuff.
When: Today!

[There is music blaring in the background - yes, Tyrion has learned how to turn on the music and he is currently listening to modern 'pop'. It is clear he enjoys it as well - he is singing along to Stitches. He is also building a - a - well it is a sword. But when he lifts it up and toggles something on the hilt, it suddenly sparks to life, electricity running up and down the blade.

He eyes it with satisfaction, giving it a practice swing, before he realizes the device is turned on. He smirks, stretching the scar on his face.] This is the twelfth time I have rebuilt this particular device, and I believe this may be my best effort yet.

[Another swing, before he powers it off.] Every day, I rebuild tools to help me survive in case of an attack - swords and the like. And every night, they are dismantled and all the parts are put back where they were originally found. I would be more annoyed ... but it is helping me quickly gather a grasp on how things work. At this rate, I shall be able to put together a weapon in moments if we come under attack, again.

[And here, his face takes on a slight calculating tilt.] ... and how was that last attack? I have heard rumors, but no ... hard facts.

[He smiles.] Your prize for sharing what information you have is a weapon that shall last you from the moment you wake until you close your eyes at night.

collegedropout

Who: Sam and [OPEN] to all!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: December 2nd

[When Sam wakes up, he expects to be laying in his bedroom in the bunker, tired from a particularly long case (clown, there was a clown, he's getting too old for this shit—) but nope. He opens his eyes to stare at a completely foreign ceiling, in a completely foreign bunk. He's of course in his nighttime clothes, to boot. No weapons, no phone, no nothing. Okay. He considers all kinds of possibilities, first. Djinn? Some sort of curse? Witchcraft? Maybe even some sort of dream-root-related snafu, or angels being dicks (somehow). There's also that little elephant in the room, in the back of his head: dude, you know exactly how this kind of thing plays out.

He rises up, easy to spot among a milling, small group with his six feet and four inches of [giraffe-necked] height. When he finally sees the high-tech machinery, the casual and potentially oh-so-different newbies wandering, the absurd amount of space out there — he says but one thing in front of the people around him, first and foremost, to break the ice:]

Well. Shit.

[Well shit indeed. He doesn't panic, but he does suddenly crave another vacation, somewhere without rips in space and time (if that's even the case here; maybe he's a captive to some higher power, because that wouldn't surprise him at all). When he's got the broadcasting thing down — thanks Adstringendum for the life lessons on what to do first — he begrudgingly addresses yet another audience, slipping on that polite and professional (and, okay, exasperated) aura that he's good at.]

So, show of hands. How many of you out there have fallen into other universes before? Because this sort of thing's getting kind of old.

... Did anyone from Adstringendum show up? Guys? Don't tell me the PCD's teleporting feature is going on the fritz or something. I know it was kind of too good to be true, but it was going well for a few months there. [Silly Sam, nothing stays good forever. But he hopes, y'know?] Let me know if I'm riding solo here, fellas.

And, uh. This isn't exactly my first rodeo, sure, but it's the first time I've ever... um... been in space. So I gotta ask, for my sanity: where exactly do us new spacemen go from here? Other than shooting jokes about Roswell, New Mexico.

ino

Who: Crew & any visitors
Broadcast: Nope
Action: On the Three Twins!
When: The month of December!

[ Welcome aboard the Three Twins! We've got quite a few new people this time around ... how are they settling in? Is everyone less injured all the time now that all the corners on the ship are rounded and everything is better lit? Find out on this week's episode of Drift Fleet! ]

versusnurture

Who: Abigail Hobbs & you
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: Marsiva!
When: 11/21

Has anyone considered the possibility that being stuck on the Marsiva is a means of negative reinforcement? Once we achieve a certain goal, whether that's reels of usable footage shot or something more specific and harder to guess at, we'll be removed from this more psychologically dangerous environment.

Or maybe even that Atroma's goal is to skew our perceptions of what's normal and what isn't. In comparison to this, individual ships are practically homey comforts. We might even get to sleep through the whole night without tripping into someone else's mind, or vice versa.

[Is it paranoia if you're right? Anyway.]

Anyone who tripped into my mind and wants anything clarified, let me know. If my secrets are going to be publicized without my consent, I might as well make sure they're being interpreted correctly.

And one more thing: I'm trying to figure out who's been here the longest. From when the lights first came on. Help me out?

takeabow

Who: anyone!
Broadcast: why not!
Action: sure!
When: Whenever!

[ what are you up to, flooters? passing the time playing cribbage? watching Die Hard with a Vengeance, or maybe trying to repair friendships and perceptions of people that were dashed by invasive dreamscapes?

This is a mingle, so enjoy! ]

mylegacy

Who: Caesar & u
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: Marsiva, kitchens & gym!
When: Ostensibly 11/15, but really whenever

[His voice sounds muted, almost bored, but anybody who actually knows him might be a little worried at the lack of underlying irritation there. There's the clank of pots and pans in the background, also muted.]

Since we're stuck here for the foreseeable future - I understand that people are coping. [As people do. For what good it does.] I don't have the proper augment, but I know how to cook if anyone wants to learn. I don't have anything else to do. [Besides watch The Princess Bride on endless repeat.]

[. . . And then, almost as an afterthought:]

I can fight, too. If anyone wants that.

[Find him in the kitchens, or the gym on request. Close CR can assume a delivery of a comfort food of their choice.]

truthvalue

Who: Souji Seta and ... you???
Broadcast: Network; open
Action: Marsiva; kitchen; open
When: The evening of the 12th.

[Souji turns on the camera, gives it an absent glance, then sets it off to the side before returning his attention to the simmering pot on the stove in front of him.]

Seta here ... I have a question. I'm wondering, is it possible - assuming we eventually return to our assigned ships - to transfer to a different one?

[He taps the stirring spoon on the edge of the pot, then replaces the lid and turns the heat down to just below simmer.]

Also, there's a new pot of stew in the kitchen. Please come by if you're hungry.

THE DRIFT FLEET

new episodes every week!

Entries tagged with souji seta

001 ♱ arrival (video)

(no subject)

mk.01 (video, action)

001. accidental video/text + action.

Gumball Wishes and Taxicab Dreams

[001] Video/Action

but for real though, did they actually mean "triplets" instead of three twins

◉ Video + Action

(no subject)

(no subject)

Windrose, where the wind blows

voice/action.

∞ 005

(no subject)

entry 001 | arrival

"three twins? wouldn't that just be triple--" /SMACK

two ➵ video

mingle mangle

five ○ voice / action

002; i'm pulling my questions from my shelf

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