tdm 8

[hownkai]

T E S T D R I V E

ABOARD THE MOIRA Whether adjusting to space travel has been difficult or not, there is always something to be done. From working to leisure, the Moira offers a multitude of opportunities to get to know your crewmates a bit better. Exploration of the ship is highly encouraged, but as another planet grows closer to being docked, things start to get a little hectic. You'll notice a slight change in the artificial gravity as the Moira is pulled into a gravitational field; however, more noticeable changes can be found in the overall morale as you prepare to descend. ☄ on your own There are plenty of other communal areas on the ship to explore! Pick a place, and see where it takes you. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) ☄ round 'em up The day begins normally. You check out the mess hall and report to your assigned job, and so far, nothing seems incredibly out of place. However, as the hours pass, you begin to notice something strange scurrying along wall edges and into open vents. For the most part, these rodents are harmless—in this stage. While they may get into the food supply in the Cargo Bay or terrorize those in the kitchen, they are not violent and appear to be skittish. However, once they've "matured" - the color of their tail will have changed from a light gray to a very dark purple, prompting them to enter a temporary stasis inside a cocoon - they aren't so cute anymore. These paklers are vicious, will bite if they're caught, and defend themselves with claws as well as the protrusions on their bodies. There is nothing to be done about them except capture them and eject them into space as they are considered a pest and very harmful to the crew and the ship. Once they run out of food, they will turn on each other as well as anything resembling a living creature. The captains provide the proper equipment, electric nets as well as tranquilizers, to assist with the capture of the paklers and their immediate removal from the Moira. ☄ what's yours is mine Something seems a bit off about the laundry delivery service these days, doesn't it? Has the Moira always had one of those? Whether you realize it immediately or not, something is very wrong about the clothes that have suddenly appeared in your wardrobe. They are either much too big or far too small, and as far as you can tell, there seems to be no happy medium in all of this. Will you Dress To Impress in your new uniforms? Will you swap with someone who might be a similar size regardless of the fact their uniform colors are not the same as your own? Or will you simply walk naked through the halls of the ship, carefree and bare to the rest of your crewmates? ☄ n'sync While exploring the ship, first down one hall and then another, you come across a strange door you've never seen before. When you pull it open, you'll find someone, a crew member, standing on the other side, hand outstretched as if they've just opened that door from the opposite side. Every move you make, they mirror, and if they shift to the left or right, you also shift left or right. Absolutely everything the both of you do is the same except for the words that come out of your mouth; somehow, you still manage to maintain the ability to talk without mimicking your partner. You're unable to completely control your movements again until someone says "in sync". Good luck figuring out the magic words, and if you decide to question the captains (or anyone else) about it, they won't have any idea what it is you're talking about. OUT OF CHARACTER INFO FAQ | LOCATIONS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS | NAVIGATION For mature or graphic content, please label. For questions, please direct them to the FAQ. As always, be kind and have fun!

Comments

Rashid | Street Fighter | OTA

[turbulentwind]

Round 'em up

Aside from being completely stoked that he's on a spaceship (because come on, SPACESHIP!), Rashid's cool with just about any assignment he's given. This one's... weird, even for him.

Once he's handed the proper equipment, it's time for him to get down to business! Rashid starts by finding a couple of the little guys and following them to a few cocoons, and one really big packler. "Yuck... which bad sci-fi movie did these things come from?" He runs towards it and nails it with a flying kick.

These things don't stand a chance against the Turbulent Wind!

Of course it didn't stay that way as a few more began to approach...

What's Yours is Mine

What the hell happened to his clothes? Rashid stood there, looking at the uniform. It was two sizes too big and an unflattering color. But he wasn't about to go out there completely naked. Maybe he'd find someone who was willing to trade. Maybe. Hopefully. PLEASE.

He put the giant uniform on, and in his opinion, he looked like an eight-year-old trying to wear his dad's clothes. At least his beard was still in magnificent condition.

Rashid stepped outside, keeping his eyes open for anyone with the same uniform but more his size.

Choose Your Own Adventure!

Maybe hit him up while he's wandering around the ship and being utterly fascinated by everything ever.

What's Yours is Mine

[getweird]

Scott looked absolutely amazing in his suddenly super tight uniform, but, don't get him wrong he's digging the new look, it's just not practical. So he strips down to his boxers and socks, tugs on his shoes, drapes the uniform over an arm and leaves his room.

"Hey, man, what's going on with our clothes?"

He doesn't mind that he's pretty close to naked, he's still mostly covered.

"This is too tight when it fit perfectly yesterday."

Alys Vorpatril | The Vorkosigan Saga

[hostessing]

Note: Canon point is a couple of years after the main events of Barrayar, but prior to the epilogue.

Laundry mishap

[ It's bad enough that she's found herself aboard a strange ship, far from her home of Barrayar that she's sacrificed so much for and away from her toddling son. The contract had felt coerced and foreign to be applying her word to a written document. Even still, this isn't the worst of what she's endured in her life. She will make it through this too.

The uniform assigned to her causes her to side-eye the fabric and while she wears what she arrived in for as long as she can stand, her lady-like long dress and bolero could only go so long without a cleaning. At least with the laundry services here, she feels confident that she'll be able to keep at least this one attire from home safe. She doesn't give it a second thought when she swaps into one of the uniforms given to her and sends it off with the rest of her, albeit meager pile given her short stay, laundry. It's an act as normal as breathing when she's at home.

The second thoughts come when she examines her wardrobe upon her clothing's return and immediately sees the problem. Someone caused her clothes to shrink. The rest of her uniforms are a wash and replaceable, but Vor fashions from home?

Their destruction is almost inexcusable.

It's not proper to leave her room in the same ship knits she slept in, but it'll have to do given the alternative and she's set off into the halls to find the person responsible. ]

Excuse me. Who's in charge of the laundry aboard this ship?


On your own/Wildcard

[ Feel free to find her anywhere on the ship, wearing a dark-colored dress with a long skirt and bolero, and her head held high. She will be inspecting her new surroundings with a careful eye. Space travel isn't new where she's from, but she's never had the chance to experience it herself. ]

slams into this. also wildcard. i also can do the right formatting.

[whatdidisay]

( He's coming back from visiting Elizabeth when he catches a glimpse of his mother, and it has to be his mother, down the hall -- engrossed in something. There's only one person Ivan knows who looks like that, who carries herself like that. Lady Alys Vorpatril, in the flesh. It's been years since Ivan's seen his mother decked out in full mourning colors; she wore the various dark shades for most of his childhood, and had since favored more somber designs and colors even after. But the clothes he recognizes, and a sinking feeling starts in his stomach.

Well, okay, in addition to the one that happened when he realized his mother was here. He could run, though, in the opposite direction and leave this one for someone else to handle. Ivan also knows that, unlike Aunt Cordelia, there is no way he can avoid this confrontation. Even if he does feel like maybe he should leave it to his aunt. She was reassuring enough, right? But it's still his mother, and he can't. Not really.

So instead he attempts to clear his throat casually once he's closer, and offer a hazarding ) Mamere? ( just in case. )

"Mark" | Vorkosigan Saga

[accidentaltruth]

Rats in the Walls

[He's not impressed. Not with this ship, not with the fact he's stuck with a name he blurted out because the only alternative was Miles, not with the uniforms never designed to fit a man Miles Vorkosigan's height, and certainly not with the rats, or whatever they are. He grabs for one, forgetting for a moment it's not exactly a good idea- right up until it bites him and he throws it against a wall, cursing it.

Once he's had his little display of temper, though, he goes right back to catching them, apparently ignoring the fact his hand is bleeding, although not without a scowl at any bystanders.]

What are you looking at?

Mirror Dance (yes this went there)

[Anyone opening the door to Mark is likely to be met with a furious expression. It only gets worse as he realises he's stuck aping someone else's gestures. God, can't he even have his own body under control?]

This isn't funny. Work out how to fix it!

[Anywhere else]

[He'd pretty much hoped that being here, a whole new Vorkosigan-free universe... maybe he'd be allowed his own life here. But nope, once again, Miles was here first. People who know Miles might be surprised to find him looking pretty furious as he moves around the ship, trying to find some place he feels comfortable.

The mess hall is right out at meal times, too many people staring, but he makes sure to turn up between meal shifts. He puts a small amount of whatever's left on his plate at first... but this is the first time he's ever been allowed to just eat and it's free, doesn't have to come out of his dwindling credit chip, and he ends up piling his plate high with a furtive air, taking his plate to a back corner to eat it quickly like he expects someone to take it away.

The library is pretty quiet, too, and he wanders in there once or twice, finding a quiet corner to curl up in. He actually quite likes the main hall, empty and mostly unused as it is. He can also be found in the corridor of locked doors, trying one or two of them curiously, expression very nearly not entirely angry- at least until someone spots him.]

[OOC note: Mark is an identical clone of Miles Vorkosigan- but he won't take well to being reminded of it.]

/rubs hands together

[tearmeanewone]

[Elizabeth charges down the hallway towards the escaping rat, bucket at the ready. These things are fast, but she's used to the erratic and unpredictable movements of splicers. She slams the bucket down on the creature and drops a heavy almanac on top.]

Got it. [She puffs and looks up, instantly catching sight of the blood on Miles' hand.]

I'm looking at you, and your hand. [Elizabeth moves towards him quickly, pulling a handkerchief out of her sleeve.] Let me see it.

Duv Galeni | The Vorkosigan Saga (post-Brothers in Arms)

[komarran]

On your own/Exploration

[ This isn't Duv's first time on a ship. He hasn't been assigned ship duty, the job every Vorling he's come across in the Imperial Service seems willing to die to achieve, but he's had his training and required travel time to his outposts have left him with enough experience.

So he knows the importance of learning the layout of what's to be his current 'home' for however long that ends up being. Throughout his first few days on board, he walks the length of the ship, giving particular attention to the library. He pauses in the entry way to take in the sight of a library composed entirely out of paper books. Such things are a rarity now and he finds himself brightening as he moves towards one of the shelves to pluck a book off of it.

If he's going to be here, he may as well indulge his inner academic and see what can be learned from these pages. Were they from the worlds of all those brought here? Or specific to this galaxy? He frowns lightly in thought as he finds himself engrossed as he flips through the pages of various books trying to find some rhyme or reason to the collection. He's not likely to notice anyone's approach unless it becomes decidedly hostile.

Another location that catches his eye is the garden. Unlike most Komarrans, he's become accustomed to greenery from his time on Barrayar and his off-world assignments. The fact that a ship would devote this much space to such a place gives him the impression that they expect their crew to be here for quite a lot longer than a 'temporary' employment contract implies. He can be found here examining the planter boxes and their contents with curiosity. ]

IM SORRY THIS GOT RLY LONG

[forwardmomentum]

[ this is, admittedly, not the first time miles has woken up in some corner of the library without remembering how he got there -- a near month's worth of sleep deprivation hasn't done much for his short term memory or his...anything, really, but hell if he's going to go back to entertaining nightmares every night. and the few sedatives the medbay had to offer that he's not allergic to haven't done much for them, either. so he's looking even more gaunt than unusual, dark rings like bruises around his eyes, and there's a more distinct limp to his gait than there used to be -- and a pair of leg braces like he hasn't worn in years.

miles glances at his MID when he staggers to his feet and tries to judge how long he's been out -- a few hours, maybe? his best guess, anyway. ah, well. elizabeth won't mind that he'd fallen asleep in her little nap space again, he's sure -- and at least this time he didn't wake up hallucinating.

and that's when he damn near walks past captain duv galeni in the library, bringing himself up short with a double-take. yeah, that sure is his erstwhile CO paging through paper books with that look of engrossment and...yeah, that's duv galeni, alright. but is it really duv galeni? miles wonders how well it would be received to stop, reach out to poke galeni's arm and ask pardon me, but are you real, or can i just assume you'll go away if i close my eyes long enough?

to his credit, though, this time he manages not to react in shock -- a few ounces of savoir faire and relative composition regained through a few hours' sleep give him the wherewithall to saunter up next to galeni, leaning against the shelf as he cocks an eyebrow up at him. he figures if this one's just a hallucination then at least the likelihood of anyone catching him talking to thin air is fairly low. ]

Captain Galeni. [ miles, somehow, mostly manages to keep the dry creak of exhaustion out of his otherwise conversational tone. he blinks rapidly, his eyes too bright, too hyper-alert to really constitute a well-rested look. ] I didn't see you on the list of new arrivals, although I suppose I'm not surprised to find you here.

[ he's barely even gotten halfway through the list of new arrivals, bogged down with new personnel files as his desk is. so whether galeni's really here or not is a total toss-up to him. ]

Ben Tennyson | Ben 10 | OTA

[behoove]

round 'em up

Initially the rodent monsters pose no threat. In fact, Ben thinks they're kind of cute. In the beginning, while the creatures are still scarce, he can be found cooing at their tiny faces and fuzzy tails. He even considers capturing one and keeping it for a pet, but they're so swift and small that he'd have to transform into one of his aliens to even catch one. They're probably like the rats of yore, crossing seas and gnawing on sleeping sailors' toes. Gross.

Ben ignores them up until there's a call to round up these critters. Except they're no longer adorable critters, they're fully evolved, aggressive aliens. It hasn't been twenty four hours and here he is, standing at attention in the mess hall armed with an electric net (oh no) and tranquilizers (who let him have these?) and one job: toss the paklers into outer space.

Cruel for a bunch of harmless alien mice, he thinks at the start. That changes the moment he encounters one and it charges, teeth gnashing like it's straight out of a horror movie. Ben shouts and employs the netting, but in his panic it completely misses his target. Frozen in shock, the pakler swipes its hand at his upper body. Self-preservation kicks in and Ben throws himself to the side, momentarily avoiding certain death. He scrambles to his feet in time to dodge a second attack.

With a cry of, "Why did I think this junk would work!?" Ben throws his equipment to the floor and fiddles with his "watch" instead. A circular green screen illuminates his face and a dais raises to meet it. "Okay Omnitrix, give me Rath!" He smacks his hand on the dais and shoves it down. After a transmutation bordering on unadulterated body horror, an orange four-legged beast stands in his place.

Ben raises his clawed paw and huffs through his massive jowls. Guess Wildmutt'll do. Judging by the pakler's delay, it's at least intimidated by him.

Good. That makes this easier.


on your own
Post-pakler Ben Tennyson is a starving Ben Tennyson. After disposing of the alien's body, he returns to the galley with one meal in mind: a double cheeseburger with a side order of french fries and a vanilla milkshake. Depending upon how he feels after that, he might indulge in a smoothie. It's hard to say when he's digging through unfamiliar ingredients. He withdraws a clear container of some kind of vicious fluid before he realizes the container is too still for it to slosh around.

There's something alive inside of it.

Thoroughly appalled, Ben returns the container to its place and gives a full body shudder. Aliens, man. They eat some weird stuff.

After a long search, he finds something vaguely familiar. Judging by its ground beef consistency and violet color, he concludes it's some type of space meat. He opens the container and marvels at the lack of smell and movement. Can he eat this? He sure as heck can try. He forms two patties , flattens them on a preheated pan and listens to them sizzle.

To whoever is present, Ben says, "It can't be any worse than what they serve in schools on Earth. Mystery meat, you know? I bet it's not even meat. It's probably rubber, tar and food coloring."

[petrifiedshadow]

NightWings have an excellent sense of smell, and most of the time that's a good thing. Good for hunting prey, finding other crew members when they were planet-side, etc.

It was not a good thing when you have a kitchen shift and something weird is frying on the stove. Starflight was cautiously smelling the air as he came through the door. Seeing Ben there he stopped in his tracks, looking appalled.

"Ugh. You're eating that?"

Starflight thought calling it any kind of meat was being very, very generous. Supplies may be limited, but he was still holding onto his person rule to not eat anything he couldn't identify. Whatever Ben was cooking was definitely unidentifiable.

Soundwave | Transformers IDW or Transformers Prime

[decepticonpeacemaker]

((OOC: Hi all! I'm having a hard time picking between IDW Soundwave and TFP Soundwave on who I'd like to try apping for here, soooo you get to pick which one you want for the Test Drive. Also known as please help me pick I am very indecisive. For the canon unfamiliar, TFP Soundwave is creepy as hell and doesn't talk. He just plays recordings of words or shows things on the whole screen that covers his face to communicate. He's about as friendly as a bag of wet cats. But for some reason I like him? IDW Soundwave is better at being social with organics, even if he doesn't think they are as important as other Cybertronians. He's still a Decepticon but he's actually trying the whole "no war" thing. Key word is trying. I'll toss up prompts for both of them, so pick which one sounds more fun to you! Replies for TFP Soundwave will come from quietone.))


IDW Soundwave: Round 'em up
[Soundwave rather doubted that these 'paklers' would cause any serious issues for the Cybertronians on the ship. They would certainly die if they attempted to consume energon, and their teeth couldn't get through his plates. At most being able to hear them all running around the ship was bothersome to him.]

[However, seeing as a large portion of the crew was human or similar, and he couldn't exactly run a whole ship on his own, he would make an effort to help where he could. If he couldn't fit in an area to grab them himself, he could at least direct the humans as to how many and where the pests were. And if any paklers got underfoot... Well. They wouldn't survive out in space anyways, right?]

IDW Soundwave: OTA
[Chose your own adventure with the giant blue Decepticon!]


TFP Soundwave: On your own
[The ship was crawling with organics. It put him on edge more than he cared to admit. After seeing the end results of the humans' experiments on Breakdown, and those stupid children the Autobots kept managing to lock him in a prison with no escape? He had no desire to deal with them. He had covered his tracks here as much as he could - as soon as he arrived he ensured his name on the network was replaced with a pseudonym. Soundwave would give no one reason to look for or talk to him. One he had a proper plan, he could deal with the feasibility of taking the ship, or escaping it. Escape seemed more probable at the moment.]

[For now, he was in the cargo bay, one of the few places he could move properly. The blank, black screen that covered the whole of his face was fixed on the supply of what he was informed was energon. But it was bright pink. Considering the odd, or downright negative side effects of any energon apart from the normal blue had on Cybertronians of his world? It was concerning to see. Escape might come in the form of starvation after all.]

TFP Soundwave: OTA
[Chose your own adventure with Slenderbot!]

idw sounders

[knaval]

[here is riptide walking into the cargo bay because it's a normal day and he has nothing to fear.

here is riptide stopping in his tracks, optics widening when he notices soundwave.]

Oh, jeez. Haha. Oh, man, oh, god. No. Nope. Nooo, no no.

[here is riptide holding his hands up and walking out backwards. he's pretty sure if he turns his back on soundwave, he'll get his energon sucked out.]

Topher Brink | Dollhouse | OTA

[ethicalproblems]

why did it have to be rats?

[ You’d think if there was a single benefit to being pulled from your home and given an unwilling role in a bad sci-fi premise, it’d be the lack of rodents. But, no. Now there are space rats. Not only are they similar enough to the earth version to trigger anyone’s musophobia, but they’re also capable of evolving. Needless to say, Topher’s spent half the day jumping, screeching, and whining to anyone who will listen about the parklers - and that was all before the claws came out.

Now he can be found sitting on a table in the mess hall. No, he’s not helping with the collection effort. He’s...providing moral support to all the hard-working hunters around. ]

Over there! There’s one to your left. No, not in that corner -- the other one!

[ Assuming you find frantic pointing and panic inspiring. ]

no strings attached

[ Unlike the clothes and rodents, this actually isn’t so bad. For the first five minutes. That’s how long it takes Topher’s interest in the phenomenon to turn to boredom, followed by frustration, and finally worry. Nothing that either of them have tried has worked so far, and as amusing as it is to see someone imitate a gesture the first time, it loses entertainment value fast. Especially when you’re stuck in the same situation.

Eventually, he throws his hands up in exasperation. ]

I’m officially out of ideas. Any suggestions? Because my next one involves 'Duck Soup', and I don't think we want to go there.

the anything else option

[ It's a spaceship. Like, in space. Once Topher's gotten that into his head, and discarded any theories about The Attic for the time being, he can be found almost everywhere. His most frequent haunts include the medbay, the science department, and the observation deck. The former two because he can't resist trying to learn whatever he can about this place - genius, duh - and the latter because it's awesome.

If it wasn't for the whole 'unable to get home' and 'likely to die horribly' factors, this would be the coolest trip ever. ]

the n'sync pun summoned me /cackles

[psalm972]

[ Unfortunately, Light was completely unamused after minute one. A lack of agency frustrated him in more ways than one. He felt like a fool at his end of the hallway and he just wanted out.

As this other person's hands are thrown up, so are his, and it takes everything in him just to frown instead of letting a scowl seep into his expression.

Who keeps a hallway like this onboard and alien spacecraft? He figured with advanced years there would be advanced intelligence but there is always one person willing to play childish games just to mess with someone else's day. Normally, he's pretty optimistic about things but come on. ]

What if we both leave at the same time? Maybe whatever we're experiencing is just confined to this hall.

[ He hopes, anyway. Logic and reasoning really don't apply to situations he couldn't even dream of putting himself into. Why would he want to mimic someone else ever? ]

Asgore | Undertale

[mrdreemurr]

Laundry Problems

[Of all the things to be bemused by after arriving on a giant flying craft that can supposedly traverse the stars, Asgore wouldn't have thought it would be something as simple as the laundry. Going about familiar day to day tasks such as dressing oneself was a good way of grounding his thoughts, he'd found, so to be faced with the dilemma of clothes that did not fit a very large monster, was rather troubling to say the least.]

Hmm... this uniform seems far smaller than I recall. Did it shrink? Perhaps whoever put it here has made a simple mistake.

[Either way, he wasn't about to go out there completely naked (wouldn't that make a good impression of monsterkind?), so he did his best to squeeze into what he had as best as he could. Now to find someone who might be able to help... which required moving. Stiffly. Very stiffly, to the point where the seams of his uniform threatened to burst.

If he meets you in the hallway, you'll likely notice how uncomfortable he is, and when he speaks, it's rather... strained.]

Ah... excuse me. I am... in... in need of some help.

Facing a Mirror

[Just when Asgore felt that things were getting better, he comes face to face with... well, whatever crew member happened to be on the other side of the door he'd just opened.]

Excuse me.

[He tries, attempting to pass, but... whoever is there seems to be mirroring his movements. He tries again, pausing and changing direction, but yet again the other person moves as he does. How very strange.]

I will let you pass instead. Please, go ahead.

[Let's try it the other way around?]

Wild Card

[Bump into Asgore staring into space on one of the observation decks or perusing the gardens and marvelling at the big tree with its long trailing roots. Or make up something else entirely!]

Garden because thematic meetings are thematic????

[gainedlove]

The garden is one of Frisk's favorite spots to visit on the ship. Not only does Asriel tend to be here helping take care of the plants, but it's also one of the quietest places. The smell of grass and dirt, the unique quality of the false sunlight shining down, it's all very relaxing.

Done with their chores and job duties for the day, Frisk steps through the door with a small smile and starts to head over to the tree...but stops a few steps in. They would recognize that big fuzzy bulk anywhere!

"Dad?"

Lexa | The 100

[voluntatem]

(Canon point is mid season 3 so if you'd like me to avoid spoilers let me know~!)

Exploring

[There were few things Lexa didn't expect to have happen in the course of her life and presently two points on that very short list had occurred. She'd begun her cautious journey through the ship tense and disorientated trying to understand just where she was and what was going on. With no immediate answers she's still wandering, carefully peering around corners and eyeing passerbys with no small amount of suspicion.

At one point she can be found on the Observation deck, staring in awe out at the endless expanse of space. She never dreamed she'd ever be able to come here, only ever hearing about it from Clarke and seeing it in the books the younger woman had showed her. It quickly loses it's charm as she dwells too long on thoughts of things passed, but she can't find it in her to move just yet.

Much Later there's a chance she'll be found in the Gardens, seemingly perfectly at home among the diverse plant life.]

Wildcard

[Or you can bump into her anywhere else on the ship!]

Gardens

[yeswekane]

[Marcus is no stranger to living in a man-made spacecraft, but that doesn't mean he's happy to be back inside one. As perilous and unpredictable as life had been on the ground, it had been the best five months he's ever known. The air had been fresh and the sunlight energizing. Everything on the ground was surrounded by and full of life. Not like the cold, electronic hum here.

Even so, the disappointment of being back in space isn't nearly as strong as his confusion as to how he got here. This ship is obviously not the Ark, so he can't even chalk it up to oxygen deprivation.

After a trip to medbay where the answers to his questions just give him more questions, he takes it upon himself to explore the rest of the ship. He's already seen the main hall and the mess hall by the time he reaches the gardens. When he enters, he's surprised to see a familiar face. He approaches from the front.]

You're here too.

[Yes, it's stating the obvious, but what else is there to say?]

Any idea about what's going on?

Courier Six | Fallout: New Vegas

[quixotically]

♣ round 'em up
You bet your ass the moment Elle spotted one of those things, that she tried to lure it back out of its hiding spot. It isn't like she doesn't always carry food with her out of habit, anyway. Between the good old banana yucca trick she learned in Zion and her weird way with animals, she has the thing crawling into her bag as somewhere to hide instead. And then? She takes it to her room.

She will kiss him and love him and squeeze him and hug him and call him George.

Well. Okay, she's not calling him George. She's calling him Bob. You know, short for Shishkabob? Like, "squirrel on a stick"?... look, it's funny in the wasteland. Anyway, the point is, Elle has a new pet. And she's very, very happy about it. She lets it live behind her weird pod bed and leaves boxes of potato crisps and Sugar Bombs open for it.

She tries not to worry too much when fuzzy, mammalian-looking Bob weaves himself a cocoon. Hey, he's an alien squirrel, right? Alien squirrels are allowed to weave cocoons. She ends up getting herself all excited instead, wondering what he's going to turn into.

...

So... Elle may be standing in the hallway outside of her room, trying to barricade the door. She's got, like, a chair. And that's about it. Her eyes are wide as saucers as something throws itself against the other side of the door. There may or may not be the sound of claws scraping down the metal.

"Bob, no! Be good! Sit! Heel!" The thing on the other side of the door roars. Or... something. It's hard to know what word to use to describe alien animal shouting. Elle yells back, "Bad Bob!"


♣ on your own / wildcard (no pun intended it's not my fault)
Alright, so this entire thing is like something out of a bad Pre-War sci-fi holofilm. Or... Maybe, a good one? This spaceship is pretty freaking cool. Whenever Elle encounters tech that's new to her -- which is pretty frequently -- she can't help but think to herself, oh, the Think Tank would love this. And then she's deeply grateful that a Think Tank didn't get transported in with her. That... yeah. Let's just sum that up with a big hearty "that'd be bad" and move on.

Cue Elle sticking her nose into absolutely everything. The observation deck holds a particular marvel for her, given the way it drives home, without a shadow of a doubt, that she really is in outer space. With the stars and the vast blackness and everything. "This is way too cool," she'll utter, but she doesn't stay calm for long. It only takes a short moment for her to start literally bouncing, because this is way too cool! Even in the face of everything else about this, how can she not be excited about space?

The gardens are another favorite spot of hers. Look at that tree! Look at all of these plants! Are some of these crops, even? Once again, she gets swept up in her excitement, because she'll whirl to look at the nearest person and exclaim, "Hey! Do you know much about these? Like, if any of them might grow well in a desert?"

And, of course, there are all the hallways between, and all the other sights there are to see. Elle is going to explore all of it, and with so much enthusiasm.

on your own|Errolyn Ebonmar|Urban Arcana

[acesandeights]

Errolyn is walking along, trying to get his bearings in this new space and enjoying a cigarette, when Elle walks directly into him, like she does.

He blankly stares at her for a beat and a half, the cigarette hanging limply from his lips, before he recovers.

"Ah, good. What took you? We seem to have lost the car and gained a capital ship, though I'd much rather the car, to be honest. Do you have those notes on the GDI conference? I seem to have misplaced those upon arrival, and I was thinking I'd look over them while we had the time away."

[The way he's speaking, he clearly thinks he knows her, and is apparently treating her as some kind of compatriot. Or employee.]

Fatima Merali | Vampire: The Masquerade (CRAU)

[dust_of_life]

Round 'em Up
Fatima crouched near a service conduit opening, skillfully balanced on the ludicrous heels of her stiletto pumps, holding a hunting knife in her fist. Time and time again, Artemis had scolded her for training in her high heels instead of in gym shoes. But Fatima had always argued that she never knew what she would be wearing when danger struck. Besides, the pressure of a single woman's stiletto was about the equivalent of an elephant's weight on a man's chest.

It was one of the few arguments she'd ever won.

Force of habit, combined with an intense hatred for the assigned boots for her uniform, had her wearing the shoes when she first spotted the rodents. But while a stiletto heel had the pressure of an elephant, it didn't quite have the accuracy of a knife.

She didn't look like the sort of girl who'd be comfortable hunting down rat monsters. She was California, through and through. All she needed was a purse with a lapdog in it. But Fatima had never been very good at living up to--or down to--expectations.

In the end, she was a hunter. More so than ever since Zelien. But she didn't like to think about that.

Choose Your Own Adventure
Run into Fatima pretty much anywhere. I'm flexible!

Round 'em Up

[aster_planetes]

Roshanak? Would far rather be buried in a library somewhere. Physical books seem to be rather lacking on this odd ship, but she's a quick study and has grasped the concept of computers well. There is so much to learn- But she is also a centaur, and so thus a warrior born. Even the humblest shepherd know how to fight, and Roshanak is the daughter of her clan's blacksmith. She has fought since barely more than a filly, and she knows that not all battles are waged with rivals. Sometimes, there are pests: other times, there are monsters.

And unlike her kin, her time in the cities of humans means she knows how to move throughout corridors, when to don muffling boots over her hooves to quiet the iron she's had to have nailed to them to protect them.

"How goes the hunt?" she asks Fatima, pitching her voice low. She's carrying her bow and quiver on her back, with a long knife on her belt. She has the captain-given equipment as well, and she will use it, but...

Well.

Centaurs can be stubborn, and traditional.

leonard mccoy | star trek aos

[sickbays]

on your own.

[ He doesn't think his life could get any worse than this — his life torn from one universe to another. From death trap to the next. The doctor gripes the entire way through his physical, throwing snippy comments at anyone within earshot, arms folding across his chest, pouting like a stubborn child until he's handed his gear.

The days that follow aren't much better. McCoy reports to his assigned job in a huff, stomps into the mess hall for all his meals — and coffee cravings. He keeps to himself most of the time, his back hunched over the table, stabbing at his food with a fork.

He explores the ship during his leisure hours, poking his head into the gardens and medbay before eventually scurrying off. The observation deck is the only place he actively tries to avoid, for the sake of his nerves. ]

what's yours is mine.

[ He couldn't believe this. His uniform fit perfectly the other day. Now, it's size too short. The sleeves and pants were a couple inches too short. The doctor stuck out his arms and watched the fabric roll up past his wrists. Great. Just what needs to start his day.

He stalks through the halls metaphorical storm cloud over his head, darkening his demeanor and making things miserable for everyone around him. He steps into one of the lifts with a huff, his eyes casting a look over at the only other passenger. Stomping to one side, he folds his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his uniform roll up as he does, and show off a good part of his forearm before he notices and shoves his arms back to his sides.

His head tilts down and he grumbles something unintelligible. ]

[abide]

[ Steve is making his rounds, as he usually does, when the lift picks up another crew member, and he doesn't really need to give much attention to the fact this guy seems a little sour. His own arms aren't exactly crossed over his chest, not with the fact he's got a uniform jacket draped over one of them that's infinitely much too small, and he's casually leaning against part of the wall with a foot braced against it as he waits. What he's wearing is actually bigger than he is, but it almost works; everything he'd had before had been a little too tight in the shoulders anyway. ]

Bad day? [ He tilts his head toward him, trying to make light conversation. ]

Tarn | Transformers IDW

[sparkwhisperer]

Round ‘Em Up
[Wandering through the halls, Tarn seethes, searching for a way to blow off some of his pent up fury from being transported, without his consent, onto an organic ship. The dull scurrying of claws on metal is enough to catch his attention as one of the rodents scurries by him.]

[ If nothing else these small organics are good for releasing a bit of pent up aggression and give him the satisfaction of a kill, however small it may be. While everyone else seems to be trying to contain the pests for immediate disposal, Tarn is skipping the middle man and going straight to annihilation; crushing anything that comes close enough. Fortunately, these paklers, while possessing very sharp teeth and claws, can’t penetrate the battle ready armor of a tank. If anything they just leave behind a deep scratches in his paint, which while irritating, is very minor compared to the blood they seem to be able to draw from organic lifeforms.]

[Currently he can be found elbow deep in a vent rooting around for his next victim, with a pile of crushed vermin next to him.]


On Your Own/ Wildcard
[ In a ship occupied entirely by organic lifeforms and Autobots, Tarn can be found probably sulking and on the verge of throwing a tantrum where ever is convenient for you on the ship.]

wwwwildcard? kinda?

[knaval]

[unaware that one of the biggest decepticon (and, arguably, cybertronain) psychopaths who ever came online is on the ship, riptide is going about his business. he's finished his shift outside on the wings and has come to the observation deck to relax.

space is pretty, he's decided. at least this sector of it is.

...in about five minutes, riptide is bored of looking out at space and starts playing a video game on his MID.]

Bumblebee | Transformers IDW

[taselikeabee]

Round 'Em Up

[ while Bumblebee is pretty sure that these rodent like things aren't going to do him any harm, the same can't be said for some of the organics on board. honestly, doing something as mundane simple as dealing with pests rather than responsibilities feels good for a change.

in one of the hallways, a yellow car can be found. it's idle, resting and off to the side - hopefully giving people enough room to get around it. up in the vents is where his holomatter avatar is. Bee is on his hands and knees up there, searching for the nest. there has to be one, right? ]



N'Sync

[ yeah there's going to be a problem here. the problem is going to be Bumblebee seizing the opportunity - depending upon who the person is on the other side - to take advantage of his 'mirror's' inability to be in complete control.

it's been a while since he's been able to fully explore that impish nature of his. ]



Choose your own!

[ hit me with something else! i am game~ ]

round em up

[knaval]

[riptide sucks at just about everything, including noticing suspiciously familiar yellow cars with autobrands on them and going over to see if this obvious cybertronian is okay.

he crouches down in front of the car, tapping the hood lightly.]

Hey. You conscious? You didn't get one of those rats in your gears did you? Tell me if you did, I don't want to see that.

Johannes Cabal the Necromancer | OTA.

[johannes]

[WHACK-A-MOLE: Violence, Animal Death.]
Pausing for a moment, Cabal cleaned the blood off the head of his cane and looked at the recently deceased little beast. It wasn't so much that the sound of hitting it was viscerally satisfying, but more that it was a concrete and measurable sort of success. Two swings, one dead creature. Almost worth keeping around a few to act as a motivational tool on rough days when numbers and formulae just don't cooperate in the way they should. If only beating something cowed equations as neatly as space rats, his work would be so much further along.

With a moue of disgust, he swings and hits another of the creatures. Of course, it's not the death that bothers him, it's the similar to golf. How appalling.

[WILDCARD.]
Ask and ye shall receive!

[jointhefrey]

It's a meaty crack, the wet sound of flesh and bone splitting, brains spattering across the floor. Danil's head cocked in curiosity, and he ventured forward, striding towards the sound. Which presented him with the image of the pale young man killing rats.

He pauses, standing before the man, watching, faintly interested. There's something hypnotic with the efficiency of the murder.

Reminded him of Tal, perhaps.

Fi | Legend of Zelda; Skyward Sword | OTA

[dancingblade]

Exploration

The first thing the spirit realizes when it comes to is that it is not asleep. Their consciousness floats to the surface and becomes aware of the changes in it's environment; the sound that echoes in the metal chamber it currently resides in is different from the sounds of the stone temple and there are no birds, no soft rustle of leaves. The Master Sword has been moved, but it cannot sense it's Master.

Something is wrong.

It doesn't take long before Fi appears from within the sword, not quite touching the ground but hovering an inch or two above it. Once checks are completed and she is somewhat awkwardly outfitted with the usual starting equipment, Fi is left to wander on her own.

She's... uncertain. As to what it is she is meant to do aboard the ship. So she starts floating through the halls, exploring the ship. One might come across her at the Gardens, hovering amongst the plants or floating serenely in front of the roots at the Altar Room. Otherwise, she can be found hovering around the ship and occasionally floating through public doors. At least she's polite enough to not barge into people's rooms?

Round 'em up

Did someone ask for crowd control? Because Fi is all over that crowd control-- Oh wait, it's a capture the enemy mission?

...

Fi can been seen floating down hallways, head tilted upwards as if following something. And she probably is; while she floats around people who accidentally pass in front of her, Fi will stop and explain herself to anyone who actively attempts to prevent her from following the creature.

"There is a 75% possibility that one of those creatures deemed as pests is currently travelling through the vents. It would be in our best interests to capture it before it is allowed to reach full maturation. Shall we pursue it?"

Wildcard

[what's a sword to do when it's separated from it's Master? Please don't steal her, Fi won't appreciate it and might send you flying for the infraction. 8( ]

exploration; gardens

[songoftime]

Link likes the gardens. It isn't the same as being in Kokiri Forest, but it's the heaviest concentration of plant life that he knows of on the ship. It's enough to both make him homesick, and to help him when he's already feeling that way. The big tree is, by far, his favorite feature. That's probably unsurprising.

He's shuffling his way up to the altar, a piece of fruit from the mess hall in hand. He's long since gotten used to the urge to leave an offering, and he welcomes it. He wonders if there really is a tree spirit that collects the offerings, or if other people on the ship eat it instead.

But, before he reaches the altar proper, he notices someone. He thinks they're probably new, because he's never seen them before. Well... at least... He's mostly sure he hasn't. He blinks slowly at them, trying to wrestle with the strange, niggling feeling of familiarity.

"Hi," he offers, with more uncertainty than he intends.

Light Yagami | Death Note | Bring It On~

[psalm972]

( On Your Own )
[ He started with people watching. What better place to get a scope of who has been dragged into this mess than, well, a mess hall. Everyone, presumably, has to eat. He isn't so sure when he happens upon a few oddities in the crew, but he has seen worse in the form of shinigami. The scare of it all isn't as stark. Light's just a lot more willing to believe the world is larger than he thinks it is after certain events.

It's fine. He doesn't have to worry about anything here. If nothing else he still has two pieces of the Death Note on him and if worst comes to worst, the MIDs show the names of everyone on board. Whoever designed the system clearly wasn't accounting for anyone who might need to hide their identity. Fine by him. The easier they are to identify, the better.

Food half eaten and somewhat rummaged through, he takes the opportunity to approach someone as he's dumping his tray. Feigning frustration, or rather playing off his real frustration, he rubs at the back of his neck with a sigh. ]

Hey, do you mind answering a few questions? [ If he's lucky they'll be useful and they'll be able to tell him something he doesn't know from just walking about. ] I'd appreciate it. I'm kind of new here. [ A half laugh. ] And I have to admit everything is a little confusing. I think I've got the basics, [ Good, he slipped that in so he has a reason to skip over anything repetitive they might say. ] but I'd like to be on the same page as everyone else on board the. . .what's this ship called?

( Choose Your Own Adventure )

[ Light, for the most part, is really easy to approach. His haunts will most likely be where information can be gathered, probably trying to spruce up the living space he's been given to his perfectionist ridiculous standards, and generally in the recreational area to keep from being idle. ]

[seeingscarlet]

The Moira.

[The Ingress is throwing out so many new people that Wanda wonders if maybe they should all be a little more concerned about the extremely real possibility of imploding. Surely it's getting worse. The crew's nearly tripled in the past two months.

And with new people comes questions and as one of the more senior crew - isn't that a terrifying thought - Wanda's become used to having to give history lessons or tours.]

What do you want to know?

Walter White | Breaking Bad

[bluemeanie]

on your own/wildcard

[There's a man here who looks a bit hairier than my icons could ever convey, possessing a full-on beard and baggy clothing that seems to make him look unhealthily skinny underneath. Like a shell of a man, if nothing else. He hobbles about, and occasionally clutches at his side.

He drifts through much of the ship with a sense of repressed anger, but seems to let it loose upon seeing you, because he's immediately confronting you - with one finger sticking right in your face.]

Look, I don't know what kind of...elaborate joke you're pulling here. But if you think for a second that I will tolerate any of this nonsense for even a second...

round 'em up

[Still not shaved - lord knows there's been barely a moment for him to even consider doing that considering how quickly they shoved him into a uniform and put him to work. He grumbles as he grabs a nearby broom...pole, anything long, and he begins to poke at one of the vents with this. Walter looks rather ridiculous all-in-all, and turns to address your character when they wander in on this scene.

He can hear the buzzing of flies in his head.]

There's been an infestation.

round em up!!

[diamondslap]

[aurelia stops short of walter when she's addressed. is that a space hobo? did space homeless people get onto their ship? is that what the infestation is?]

I can see that, darling. The only way it's going to be eliminated is if you stop slacking and get poking. Ask the captains for compensation, I'm sure they'll be happy to oblige.

mike munroe ✕ until dawn ✕ come at me!

[tindered]

✕ ROUND 'EM UP

( regular morning his happy, non-blue-jean-wearing ass.

… okay, so maybe it had been normal enough, but once you start seeing things out of the corner of your eye, crawling on the walls and into the vents and shit? you start to think that maybe, just maybe, this isn't the day you'd thought it was going to be when you first woke up. which, the acclimation to space and all that notwithstanding, he's pretty sure that his days are anything but normal, and haven't been anything close to that for a hell of a lot longer than he wants to admit to.

at least there aren't any fucking wendigos here. that he's seen. and he's been keeping his eyes peeled.

now, back to the matter at hand.

the first couple of times he sees one of those … things at the edge of his vision, he ignores them. there's gotta be someone else that can deal with them, blah blah, not his job – but when it seems like they start showing up more and more, he gets curious. there's one just off to his left now, paused mid-scurry, and the second that he turns his full attention on it, it finishes its scurry to the nearest vent, leaves him staring at the empty space left behind and wondering whether or not this is even going to be worth his time.

but then he's approaching the vent like his feet have minds of their own, and for all we know, that just might be true.

☉ look inside vent.

☉ leave it alone.

he's just about to make his decision when something behind him makes a noise – be it another of those creatures, or your character, whatever! – and he curses low under his breath, a whispered fuck! and he sweeps a hand back through his hair, breathes out a sigh. )

Shit just keeps getting weirder and weirder, doesn't it?

( and just who are you even talking to, mister class prez? )

✕ bye, bye, bye N'SYNC

( yeah. shit just. keeps getting weirder. and fucking weirder.

exploring, in his experience, has never ended well. unless you end up befriending a random wolf in the middle of a creepy situation and the little buddy ends up helping you through what could have been an even worse situation. that's all there is to it, no ifs, ands or buts about it, but what has he been doing for the last little while?

fucking exploring.

and you had better believe that when he opens that door, he doesn't expect to find someone on the other side that is capable of perfectly mimicking every move he makes. he doesn't say anything, not at first – only makes that what in the shit-fucking-hell is going on here face – and when he finally rests his hands on his hips, he looks every bit as disgruntled as one would be expected to be when met with a human fun house mirror. )

Okay. This is some bullshit. Can you stop now?

( raising his arms on either side of himself to see if that – nope.

sigh. ) Oh come on!

round 'em up ► this'll sure end well won't it?

[fatebranch]

[ Chris has not been ignoring them. Seriously, every single time one scampers its furry little way into his line of vision, he pretty much cringes. Oh, and let's not even mention the times he doesn't see them, but still hears them, and it makes his skin crawl with a combination of bad associations and even worse memories. Ugh. He doesn't want to think about it.

He happens to be around when Mike finally spots one, follows it over to the vent. He watches, close and careful, and even starts to move toward the vent for himself--

Crrk!!

Chris startles, whirls around with a "Whoa, uh--!" and tries to figure out exactly what the hell that just was. It isn't until Mike breathes that he remembers, oh, yeah, he should probably do that, too. He shakes his head, rubs at his eyes with one hand. ]

Don't say that, man. it'll probably just make it even worse.

[ But there's that noise again - like claws pressing into metal, slowly and almost deliberately. He cringes at the sound and looks toward one of the other vents. ]

Uhh... I think it's coming from there...

Roller | TF IDW

[officerjuicebox]

[EXPLORATION]
[Okay so it's more... hunker down and try not to smash your face into everything. Because, huge space ship or no, it's probably not designed for a bot larger than Optimus Prime. Or Orion Pax, since that's how he remembers things.]

[Wherever he tries to go, there will be an inevitable, loud, CLANG as he ends up smacking his face into a doorframe. At least he's trying to watch his feet, though.]


[ROUND EM UP]
... You want me to do what now?

[As he looks between the vent, where the crewman just told him the nest probably was, and the huge hand holding the grate up off the opening. There is, in his opinion, absolutely no way any part of his is going to fit into that tiny shaft. Not in a million years.]

Look, maybe you need someone actually... vent-sized for this.

[Do you assist the big bot? Y/N?]


[CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE]

Round em up

[dancingblade]

That would also be inadvisable.

[the voice comes the vicinity for Roller's shoulder (maybe). There's a small girl hovering near the entrance of the vent, taking full advantage of Roller's courtesy in holding the grating opened... This is a girl right? It's not like the lack of arms, expression and actual floating without any form of hover tech is unusual right?]

If these creatures will become as hostile as it is claimed then there is a 90% probability that whoever wanders into their nest will be summarily assaulted. Chasing the creatures out of such a disadvantageous location will increase our chances of eliminating them with minimal injury by at least 65%.

[she turns her head to look at Roller] The question is how durable the vents themselves are.

Molly Grue | The Last Unicorn (ota)

[neverwasmarian]

1.A Stitch in Time

A more enterprising woman might have charged. As it was, Molly couldn't imagine what she would do with the money, even if she had a rough idea of how much she ought to be charging with whatever currency the people aboard the ship might use (and what good would it do her if it was all different?).

Molly was more of a cook than a seamstress, but she had been a great many things to Tully's ragtag band and the people here are at least more interesting and possibly less delusional. And it's work. It keeps her hands busy. Her stitchings aren't professional, but she's quick and she can make a garment fit a body and she has done far more with less.

Outside the laundry room is a rough, carefully hand lettered sign: Molly Grues Alterations

Inside is Molly, hunched over a too large pair of uniform pants, carefully hemming the legs.

2. A Grim Business

"You would think this ship would have a cat. What sort of proper ship doesn't have a cat to catch pests." Molly is in a piss poor mood. She's hauling an electric net full of screaming, wriggling pests, covered in scratches and in slightly more disarray than usual. "Haggard's castle has a cat, it barely has a proper kitchen!"

She dumps her whole lot in front of the airlock, eyeing it and then the wriggling, shrieking boddies tangled up in the softly pulsing net. "And I suppose I'd get a whipping if I dumped the whole lot straight the door. Serve those so called captains right to lose their fancy net."

She's rolling up her sleeves even as she says it. Someone with a better idea may want to intervene before she starts hurling paklers into the airlock individually.

3. Choose your own adventure.

Molly hasn't ever been on a ship before. Little rowboats now and again, a few rafts and once a barrel, though she refuses to talk about that still. That it swims through the stars is... She doesn't know. It seems impossible, but she had, in dark moments, imagined there were no such thing as unicorns. She is drawn to the observation bay frequently, always one step closer to the glass than she was before, hands reaching out hesitantly, but never quite touching. The garden doesn't make any sense at all and she'll be determined to grill whoever's in charge on all of the herbs and vegetables and where are they. She gravitates towards the kitchen, because... Well, once a cook, always a cook. It's familiar and there's comfort there.

2

[realitywarped]

"We have cats. Sadly, they're smaller than the pests."

Loki's perfectly content to watch someone else doing all the catching, frankly. He leans against the wall, arms folded, perfectly willing to do as little of the catching as possible.

"Mmm, if you don't want to throw the net away- although I would, just to annoy our delightful captains- give me a moment and I'll find you a solution less likely to give any chance to escape."

Heat | Digital Devil Saga | cw: gore, violence

[sorrowfulcry]

Wildcard

[Heat will be around the ship, though he's more likely to be found in the armory or cargo bay (makes him think of Home/Junkyard). If you're uncomfortable with gore/violence please ignore the prompt below]

Time to eat cw: gore

For the first couple of hours after the alert, Heat remains as himself, only transforming his arm when he comes across one of those creatures, knocking them out and then- Well, they're small enough that he only ends up with a neglible amount of blood on him. They're only so big and hardly satisfying. And there's no challenge... He's barely worked up an appetite (and food always tastes better when one's fought for it).

Once they start maturing though, there's another beast begins roaming the halls of the Moira. He seems to be actively hunting them, though Agni won't harass people who have captured prey on their own.

He's not clean and he's not kind about killing them. Those unlucky enough to come across Agni when he has one pinned down? Hopefully you've got a strong stomach. The pakler honestly doesn't stand a chance; it screeches, scratches and bites in an attempt to break out of the demon's grip. The scratches were surface deep but whatever blood Agni loses is invisible against his red hide... Assuming he even notices the injuries inflicted upon him. He wastes no time in grabbing one of the pinned creature's arms and tearing it clean off, one head roaring in delight even as he devours the limb with the second. His prey barely has time to scream before he uses his free arm to brace him and leans down to start eating the dying creature.

Well... It wasn't as if Heat could just eat the crew and if they didn't want these things onboard, then where was the harm? Feed the demon and free yourselves of a known pest. Just because he didn't like the idea of being a disposal unit, the thought of being stuck in a tin can with little to no food was enough to make Heat swallow his pride.

... Though the aftertaste of these things definitely left something to be desired.

Razputin Aquato | Psychonauts

[slowyjoey]

G \\ Observation Deck

This clinches it, doesn’t it? This is space, right? This was nothing like Oleander’s mind, but… it was so much more disconnected than that station in the desert. This didn’t feel like a collective unconscious, this was… different. This was more structured and linear than most projections, and the sheer scope was larger than anything he had seen put together. He pulls back his goggles almost reluctantly as his eyes wander vacantly back and forth. Wherever he was, and whatever was happening, he wasn’t in someone’s mind.

The worst part about the whole thing, and what really ruined the awesomeness of this potentially literally out-of-this-world space adventure were the voices. Always out of sight, always behind the next corner. He had tried to track down their origin, but they didn’t seem to really be coming from anywhere. He had spent all morning (actually, wait, do space cruisers even have mornings?) trying to find their source, but nothing seemed to be their focii. There was no dirty laundry, no hidden memories or even important objects. The whispers seemed to be more noticeable on less inhabited areas of the ship, but Raz was starting to wonder if coming up here was just a fluke. It felt as if they were always in the periphery, just outside of his reach. They weren’t intelligible, but they didn’t seem particularly happy.

If you wander up to the Observation Deck, you’ll find a very focused and confused ten year old, slowly turning in circles, apparently trying to take in all the majesty the cosmos has to offer at once. Every once in awhile, his head darts to the side, at the nothing down one end of the hall or the other.

Wildcard

I will take almost anything else you throw at me! Mess hall duty? Exploring another area of the ship? Dealing with the paklers? I can be reached at mrcheshire, or you could start whatever you’d like!

sup its sora (milla-mun) /FINGER GUNS

[inruins]

Seeing a child wandering around is something Toriel naturally notices. Much less a child going in circles staring at the cosmos openly. The boss monster stifles her amusement as she approaches the child, genuinely curious.

"Enjoying the sights, dear?" Toriel if anything is hard to miss, the 6'9 white furred goat looking monster in the standard Moria uniform. "Don't spin too much or you'll make yourself dizzy."

Eve Baird | The Librarians | OTA

[mamabaird]

round 'em up

[Hopefully you aren't being cornered by one of these little Gizmos gone wrong. Well. Technically that'd just make them regular gremlins, but the point still stood. It'd be better not to be in a room alone with these things.

Which is why Eve joined the clean up effort. She's armed with a net and tranquilizers and you can either run into her while she's chasing one of them down the hall shouting for people to move, or she might even be rescuing you from one of them.

Regardless, once she bags and tags one with a tranq Eve takes a breath and looks towards you.]

What happened to these things being cute? I liked them better that way.

what's yours..

[Eve was pretty tall compared to most women. And a good handful of men. So when she had gotten her new fatigues she immediately noticed that they were made for someone much smaller than she was.

Which meant she had no clothes.

Great.

Eve poked her head outside of her quarters and set her sights on the first person she saw in the hallway.

That would be -]

You!

[She stuck an arm out to wave you closer.]

You come here.

wildcard
Do what you will!

[becausemagic]

[The rats are fascinating. Horrible, but fascinating. It's a heck of a transformation, and Flynn's keen to see it in progress, see if maybe there's magic involved, or some kind of trigger or stimulant or catalyst, because if so then there may be a way to reverse the process, and then hurray, cute rats instead of awful monsters. So naturally he's out and about with the clean up crews, trying to get hold of subjects pre- and post-transformation.

He's pelting after one particularly slippery little beast when he rounds a corner and -

He drops his tranquilliser gun and doesn't even notice. The rat doubles back from the group ahead of it, goes racing past him and gets clean away, and he couldn't care less. His voice doesn't seem to be working properly all of a sudden, more of a croak than anything else, but he forces the word out.]

"Eve?"

Samus | Metroid

[raisedbybirds]

round 'em up
[If this ship needed an exterminator there was no one better than Samus. These paklers proved very quickly to be a nuisance and while Samus was of the opinion live and let live--if possible--she also knows where to draw lines at self-defense and when a pest species didn't belong. They'd prove a bigger threat if their numbers were left unchecked. A damn shame.

Don't mind the 6-foot something tall suit of bright orange armor prowling the hallways looking like a diabolical robot Santa with a huge satchel slung over one of those round shoulder pauldrons. Little bumps and bits stick out and the bottom of the sack is stained with blood. It leaves a tiny dripping trail on the floor wherever she goes. It's getting pretty full, she should probably dump them off somewhere. Samus gestures to the next passerby--that's you.]

Can you direct me to quarantine? [Or where it may be best to dispose of unwanted trash.] I have some presents to drop off.

wildcard
[Samus is hard to miss, and can be found exploring around literally anywhere in her armor. Please direct her to the nearest exit andor bar.]

[a_shadow]

[ Tex is wearing her armor as well, all the better to prevail against the pests. When she's signaled by Samus she stops what she's doing and nods with her head in the proper direction. ]

Let's go to the refuse disposal with those.