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thisavrou_ooc2016-04-11 01:44 am
hownkai) wrote in thisavrou_ooc2016-04-11 01:44 am
Entry tags:
( tdm 9 )
T E S T D R I V E |
|
yet another kidnapping;
[Another day, another crazy thing that happens. She's starting to get used to it. It's only because of that fact that Claire is calm upon arrival. She doesn't feel woozy for long, which enables her to take off at a run. She doesn't stop until she plows right into someone, the force of the impact causing her to recoil and fall flat on her backside. She hits the ground with an oomph, and blinks up at whoever didn't manage to get out of her way in time. She's covered in blood from head to toe, the majority of it focused around her head and the chest of her cheer uniform. She looks like she might be running away from someone maybe, but the expression on her face holds one of impatience. Like she was expecting the person she ran into to move out of her way even though she didn't notice them in the first place.]
I really wasn't expecting anyone else to be here. I'm not used to mass kidnappings. Usually it's just me by myself.
[Yeah, that's her apology for running into someone. Trying to explain why she's not expecting someone to be in her path.]
throwing vegetables;
[Okay, so her first experience with robots isn't exactly pleasant. Maybe the fact she's running around in her still bloody cheerleader uniform has something to do with some of the things here shouting insults at her. She's washed her hair and looks perfectly fine except for her cheer uniform being a hot mess, so she's not sure what the deal is. She's even less sure why there's a taller one throwing food at her, but she isn't going to just stand there and take it.]
What, are you jealous or something?
[There's some insults shouted in her direction and she rolls her eyes, crouching to pick up one of the vegetables. It looks like it may splatter if she throws it hard enough, so she takes aim and throws it as hard as she possibly can. It doesn't hit her target at all, but instead a passerby, and Claire's eyes widen as she points at the person that's closest to her. She's totally about to get in trouble.]
bug ride from hell;
[Most people wouldn't recklessly leap out of a carriage ride gone astray, but Claire isn't most people. She knows she'll be just fine in the end (or hopes so anyway), which is exactly why she takes an inventory of her fellow passengers and makes sure there aren't any kids around to save. Not seeing any, she stands up on wobbly legs and takes her leap. She lands in a heap on the ground, her arm twisted at an ugly angle.
Feeling a little dazed, she takes a moment to sit up before popping her arm back into place. She's in the middle of stumbling up to her feet and rubbing at the side of her now bloody head in the middle of a crowd that's gathered to watch the commotion.]
wildcard;
[If you'd like to challenge Claire to a very misleading game of skittles, or would like to run into her somewhere on the Moira, choose your own adventure!]
[Another day, another crazy thing that happens. She's starting to get used to it. It's only because of that fact that Claire is calm upon arrival. She doesn't feel woozy for long, which enables her to take off at a run. She doesn't stop until she plows right into someone, the force of the impact causing her to recoil and fall flat on her backside. She hits the ground with an oomph, and blinks up at whoever didn't manage to get out of her way in time. She's covered in blood from head to toe, the majority of it focused around her head and the chest of her cheer uniform. She looks like she might be running away from someone maybe, but the expression on her face holds one of impatience. Like she was expecting the person she ran into to move out of her way even though she didn't notice them in the first place.]
I really wasn't expecting anyone else to be here. I'm not used to mass kidnappings. Usually it's just me by myself.
[Yeah, that's her apology for running into someone. Trying to explain why she's not expecting someone to be in her path.]
throwing vegetables;
[Okay, so her first experience with robots isn't exactly pleasant. Maybe the fact she's running around in her still bloody cheerleader uniform has something to do with some of the things here shouting insults at her. She's washed her hair and looks perfectly fine except for her cheer uniform being a hot mess, so she's not sure what the deal is. She's even less sure why there's a taller one throwing food at her, but she isn't going to just stand there and take it.]
What, are you jealous or something?
[There's some insults shouted in her direction and she rolls her eyes, crouching to pick up one of the vegetables. It looks like it may splatter if she throws it hard enough, so she takes aim and throws it as hard as she possibly can. It doesn't hit her target at all, but instead a passerby, and Claire's eyes widen as she points at the person that's closest to her. She's totally about to get in trouble.]
bug ride from hell;
[Most people wouldn't recklessly leap out of a carriage ride gone astray, but Claire isn't most people. She knows she'll be just fine in the end (or hopes so anyway), which is exactly why she takes an inventory of her fellow passengers and makes sure there aren't any kids around to save. Not seeing any, she stands up on wobbly legs and takes her leap. She lands in a heap on the ground, her arm twisted at an ugly angle.
Feeling a little dazed, she takes a moment to sit up before popping her arm back into place. She's in the middle of stumbling up to her feet and rubbing at the side of her now bloody head in the middle of a crowd that's gathered to watch the commotion.]
wildcard;
[If you'd like to challenge Claire to a very misleading game of skittles, or would like to run into her somewhere on the Moira, choose your own adventure!]
Moira Ingress:
[Charles is not a particularly clever or worldly creature. Sure, the Cedar Forest has some - a lot of - stuff he doesn't understand, but nothing like this.
Human contraptions are overwhelming enough when they're just bear traps or swords, Charles is completely and totally unprepared to find himself aboard an actual spaceship - with walls and floors made of cool metal. That by itself is difficult enough for him to cope with, he can't even begin to comprehend the idea of this place actually carrying him somewhere - let alone carry him through space.
With all that in mind, it doesn't take long for Charles to wander off away from where he's supposed to go. Someone had told him to head toward the medbay, but he isn't really sure where or what that is. The next person he sees in this corridor is liable to be approached by a very large, very uncertain-looking yeti, nervously scratching at his MID as he looks around this place.]
The Garden:
[The garden is a more familiar environment for Charles. Not necessarily one that reminds him all that much of the cedar forest (or anywhere else he's lived, honestly) but at least it's got dirt and plant life and, surprisingly enough, kittens.
The wild-man known as Charles can be found in the garden at any hour of the day, doing any number of things. Sometimes he can be found playing with the kittens - listening, listening intently to their quiet meows and occasionally doing as they ask of him. Other times, he can be seen peeling the bark off of one of the garden's trees to gnaw on, or curled up beneath the roots for a nap.
Once or twice, he can even be seen plucking something out of the planters labeled Do not touch or consume and then doing precisely that. Fortunately, his nose seems to be good enough to prevent him from eating anything that'll make him too sick.]
[Charles is not a particularly clever or worldly creature. Sure, the Cedar Forest has some - a lot of - stuff he doesn't understand, but nothing like this.
Human contraptions are overwhelming enough when they're just bear traps or swords, Charles is completely and totally unprepared to find himself aboard an actual spaceship - with walls and floors made of cool metal. That by itself is difficult enough for him to cope with, he can't even begin to comprehend the idea of this place actually carrying him somewhere - let alone carry him through space.
With all that in mind, it doesn't take long for Charles to wander off away from where he's supposed to go. Someone had told him to head toward the medbay, but he isn't really sure where or what that is. The next person he sees in this corridor is liable to be approached by a very large, very uncertain-looking yeti, nervously scratching at his MID as he looks around this place.]
The Garden:
[The garden is a more familiar environment for Charles. Not necessarily one that reminds him all that much of the cedar forest (or anywhere else he's lived, honestly) but at least it's got dirt and plant life and, surprisingly enough, kittens.
The wild-man known as Charles can be found in the garden at any hour of the day, doing any number of things. Sometimes he can be found playing with the kittens - listening, listening intently to their quiet meows and occasionally doing as they ask of him. Other times, he can be seen peeling the bark off of one of the garden's trees to gnaw on, or curled up beneath the roots for a nap.
Once or twice, he can even be seen plucking something out of the planters labeled Do not touch or consume and then doing precisely that. Fortunately, his nose seems to be good enough to prevent him from eating anything that'll make him too sick.]
Only 90s Kids Will Get This
[So he’s wandering around the Ship, as you do, looking for things to do. What sort of things? Any of them. So far he’s found a Garden (fresh out of pumpkins) and a whole bunch of rooms you would find on a spaceship. He’s about to head to the Mess Hall and grab a space snack when he hears the siren call of electronic beeps and boops. Not just any beeps and boops, oh no, those are definitely video game beeps and boops.
That’s how he finds the Lounge. More importantly, that’s how he finds the TV in the lounge. Not just any TV, a TV the size of-- he doesn’t know, Neptune?]
Holy shit.
[Yeah, he’s not leaving.]
Duck Hunt
[What is this, some kind of Renaissance Faire run by robots? He wonders if he can find an overpriced turkey leg somewhere around here. Although wait, what if it’s a robotic turkey leg? That’s a thing, isn’t it? Well, maybe not. What’s definitely a thing are some robots standing around throwing tomatoes at him. Maybe robotic tomatoes.]
Wait, don’t you need those for food? Or do you just grow them to throw at human interlopers?
[Of course, throwing and hitting aren’t the same thing. Being generally floaty and fly-y helps dodge the latter. Just a bit. Although John thinks they might be getting madder every time he ducks and avoids getting red on his face.]
Ooh, almost got me that time! [John, don’t encourage them.]
Wax On, Wax Off
[Insect cyborgs sign him the hell up. John wonders if these are the kind with the metal parts underneath or the kind with the metal parts on top (there is sometimes confusion on this point). It seems kinda boring if they’re gonna go through all the Effort of making some huge bug but make it look like— well, a huge bug. But he’s also never seen a grasshopper the size of a car before, so. The least he can do is pay for a ride to— uh, where do these carriages go, exactly?
Too late, everybody on board the Cyborg Express. Unfortunately, the Cyborg Express doesn’t seem to have rails or brakes. This is a problem, especially when it starts riding up on the sidewalk and bulldozing people over. He floats out of the carriage and tries to pull on the— what do you use to control a cyborg grasshopper anyway? reins?— to get it to slow down or stop or do a thing that isn’t crash.]
Everybody out of the way! Come on, Miyagi, slow down! [Grrr. Do grasshoppers even have ears?]
[So he’s wandering around the Ship, as you do, looking for things to do. What sort of things? Any of them. So far he’s found a Garden (fresh out of pumpkins) and a whole bunch of rooms you would find on a spaceship. He’s about to head to the Mess Hall and grab a space snack when he hears the siren call of electronic beeps and boops. Not just any beeps and boops, oh no, those are definitely video game beeps and boops.
That’s how he finds the Lounge. More importantly, that’s how he finds the TV in the lounge. Not just any TV, a TV the size of-- he doesn’t know, Neptune?]
Holy shit.
[Yeah, he’s not leaving.]
Duck Hunt
[What is this, some kind of Renaissance Faire run by robots? He wonders if he can find an overpriced turkey leg somewhere around here. Although wait, what if it’s a robotic turkey leg? That’s a thing, isn’t it? Well, maybe not. What’s definitely a thing are some robots standing around throwing tomatoes at him. Maybe robotic tomatoes.]
Wait, don’t you need those for food? Or do you just grow them to throw at human interlopers?
[Of course, throwing and hitting aren’t the same thing. Being generally floaty and fly-y helps dodge the latter. Just a bit. Although John thinks they might be getting madder every time he ducks and avoids getting red on his face.]
Ooh, almost got me that time! [John, don’t encourage them.]
Wax On, Wax Off
[Insect cyborgs sign him the hell up. John wonders if these are the kind with the metal parts underneath or the kind with the metal parts on top (there is sometimes confusion on this point). It seems kinda boring if they’re gonna go through all the Effort of making some huge bug but make it look like— well, a huge bug. But he’s also never seen a grasshopper the size of a car before, so. The least he can do is pay for a ride to— uh, where do these carriages go, exactly?
Too late, everybody on board the Cyborg Express. Unfortunately, the Cyborg Express doesn’t seem to have rails or brakes. This is a problem, especially when it starts riding up on the sidewalk and bulldozing people over. He floats out of the carriage and tries to pull on the— what do you use to control a cyborg grasshopper anyway? reins?— to get it to slow down or stop or do a thing that isn’t crash.]
Everybody out of the way! Come on, Miyagi, slow down! [Grrr. Do grasshoppers even have ears?]
bugs:
[Starscream didn't know what was worse -- a place with mechincal beings who were entirely too primitive for his liking or that they road around with giant bugs. Gross. He's kept his optics on them since he arrived, not trusting them to not do something disgusting. And especially not trusting anything that relied on mind control.
Still he felt the ping of curiosity. If this species mind controlled one thing, what's to stop them from another? And how can Starscream get ahold of that kind of technology without anyone noticing?
He edges towards a group standing idly and waiting for people to take a ride.]
Ugh. How revolting.
[Though he still decides to do the smart thing and poke it. Which turns out to be a mistake. Almost as soon as he touched one, it went berserk and crashed into a few others. A domino effect soon followed leaving Starscream standing looking like a child who just touched and broke something he wasn't supposed to.]
games
[This is stupid, very stupid, which is probably why Starscream felt compelled to participate. Well, that and a burning need to prove himself superior to all other things by winning.
Though anytime he might miss he certainly exclaims how rigged this event is. Though the same isn't said anytime he knocks the pieces down. Because of course that is the result of his superior skill and intelligence.]
wildcard
[Open to anything else. Starscream would otherwise just be wandering around.]
[Starscream didn't know what was worse -- a place with mechincal beings who were entirely too primitive for his liking or that they road around with giant bugs. Gross. He's kept his optics on them since he arrived, not trusting them to not do something disgusting. And especially not trusting anything that relied on mind control.
Still he felt the ping of curiosity. If this species mind controlled one thing, what's to stop them from another? And how can Starscream get ahold of that kind of technology without anyone noticing?
He edges towards a group standing idly and waiting for people to take a ride.]
Ugh. How revolting.
[Though he still decides to do the smart thing and poke it. Which turns out to be a mistake. Almost as soon as he touched one, it went berserk and crashed into a few others. A domino effect soon followed leaving Starscream standing looking like a child who just touched and broke something he wasn't supposed to.]
games
[This is stupid, very stupid, which is probably why Starscream felt compelled to participate. Well, that and a burning need to prove himself superior to all other things by winning.
Though anytime he might miss he certainly exclaims how rigged this event is. Though the same isn't said anytime he knocks the pieces down. Because of course that is the result of his superior skill and intelligence.]
wildcard
[Open to anything else. Starscream would otherwise just be wandering around.]
MESS HALL »
REC AREA »
WILDCARD »
( she has been offered a contract, a communicator and a uniform, which diana has declined to wear — which means that when she enters the mess hall, it is still in the outfit she had worn to battle. the shield is still strapped to her back but the sword that usually hangs next to her lasso is missing. she could have chosen to fit in, to wear the uniform and to pretend, but her days of keeping a low profile are over for now, and besides, she would prefer access to the shield, at least. it may be the first time that diana has been abducted onto a spaceship, but events such as this rarely end peacefully, she's found.
she is quiet while piling food onto a plate, but instead of settling at a free table, she picks one that is occupied. ) Is this seat taken?
REC AREA »
( there's a woman in the water, swimming lap after lap, seemingly inexhaustible. if she notices that she has company, she doesn't let on. she is also entirely naked, a small pile of neatly folded clothes — leather, armour — sitting by the edge of the pool. she didn't bring a bathing suit on this trip, unfortunately.
after several more laps, she'll pull herself out of the water, giving anyone looking her way a look in return. what kind of look it is really depends on how they're looking at her. )
WILDCARD »
( want to run into her anywhere else on the moira? want to run into her on the planet, sampling some food or drink that will lead to dancing, fisticuffs or something else entirely, or text her on this device she's been handed? go for it. )
Edited 2016-04-11 17:45 (UTC)
☄ catch-a-riiiide
[Boone is starting to feel like his life is just supposed to be filled with giant bugs. They don't bother him, but still. Maybe he's already biased thanks to the bugs back home, but he doesn't feel entirely comfortable having one pull him to his destination. So when it starts freaking out, there's a brief moment of I knew it before it starts tearing down the streets.
He's not sure how to stop it, and he doesn't feel like sticking around to find out where it's headed. So he takes a chance and leaps out, hitting the ground with a hard thud and a grunt. Dazed and disorientated, it takes him a few moments to push himself into a sitting position and turn his head; just in time to see the runaway insect round a corner, the carriage slamming against the side of a building before disappearing. Yeah, he's not doing that again.]
☄ aboard the Moira; rec area
[He's no longer running around the Mojave, so Boone has to find another way to exercise. Luckily for him, the rec area has pretty much everything he needs. Working out has always been a good way to take his mind off things, especially when he can't sleep. It wears him out, releases some of those pent up feelings, keeps him focusing on something else besides his regrets. Right now he's on a mat doing push ups, not quite realising that he's practically glaring a hole into it. He's been going for a little while now. He could probably use a break soon.]
[Boone is starting to feel like his life is just supposed to be filled with giant bugs. They don't bother him, but still. Maybe he's already biased thanks to the bugs back home, but he doesn't feel entirely comfortable having one pull him to his destination. So when it starts freaking out, there's a brief moment of I knew it before it starts tearing down the streets.
He's not sure how to stop it, and he doesn't feel like sticking around to find out where it's headed. So he takes a chance and leaps out, hitting the ground with a hard thud and a grunt. Dazed and disorientated, it takes him a few moments to push himself into a sitting position and turn his head; just in time to see the runaway insect round a corner, the carriage slamming against the side of a building before disappearing. Yeah, he's not doing that again.]
☄ aboard the Moira; rec area
[He's no longer running around the Mojave, so Boone has to find another way to exercise. Luckily for him, the rec area has pretty much everything he needs. Working out has always been a good way to take his mind off things, especially when he can't sleep. It wears him out, releases some of those pent up feelings, keeps him focusing on something else besides his regrets. Right now he's on a mat doing push ups, not quite realising that he's practically glaring a hole into it. He's been going for a little while now. He could probably use a break soon.]
Ingress:
When you meet the newly arrived Sugar out and about on the Moira, she will be calm—shockingly so, perhaps, for a woman snatched out of 1875 England, and still dressed accordingly in a plain green dress, hat, and kid gloves—and who is also going about with the help of a wooden cane. What you have not seen was the initial shock, the weeping and horror on finding that Sophie was no longer with her, the trembling and tight-lipped submission to the medical scan (which turned out to far less invasive than anything she had expected, but which filled her with dread nevertheless), and the scornful, profanity-punctuated casting-aside of the offered uniforms. The only sign of her turmoil is her red-rimmed eyes, and the fact that she seems just a little paler than is absolutely healthy.
Cromia festivities:
Cromia has put Sugar slightly more at ease, in that it is far more like the world from which she comes—automatons aside, at any rate. For the festivities, she has put on her best smile and is doing her best to mix and mingle and be pleasant to everyone who approaches. She could do it in her sleep, frankly—to say nothing of in the parlour, in the bed...She drinks sparingly (if you watch her very carefully, you might catch her pouring her glass out the window, or into a convenient plant), and eats here and there, never too much.
When you meet the newly arrived Sugar out and about on the Moira, she will be calm—shockingly so, perhaps, for a woman snatched out of 1875 England, and still dressed accordingly in a plain green dress, hat, and kid gloves—and who is also going about with the help of a wooden cane. What you have not seen was the initial shock, the weeping and horror on finding that Sophie was no longer with her, the trembling and tight-lipped submission to the medical scan (which turned out to far less invasive than anything she had expected, but which filled her with dread nevertheless), and the scornful, profanity-punctuated casting-aside of the offered uniforms. The only sign of her turmoil is her red-rimmed eyes, and the fact that she seems just a little paler than is absolutely healthy.
Cromia festivities:
Cromia has put Sugar slightly more at ease, in that it is far more like the world from which she comes—automatons aside, at any rate. For the festivities, she has put on her best smile and is doing her best to mix and mingle and be pleasant to everyone who approaches. She could do it in her sleep, frankly—to say nothing of in the parlour, in the bed...She drinks sparingly (if you watch her very carefully, you might catch her pouring her glass out the window, or into a convenient plant), and eats here and there, never too much.
Edited 2016-04-11 19:02 (UTC)
From underground to outer space
[The first time Butch was told he was on a space ship he laughed. The second time he got annoyed that people insisted on keeping up the lame joke. The third time he began threatening people until he was pointed towards the observation deck in an attempt to shut him up. When he stares out into the expanse of space his eyes widen to the size of golf balls.
He had heard so much about the sky, and how big and vast it was, and to be honest it kind of freaked him out. But he still wanted to get out of the vault and see it. He was sick of being trapped behind those metal walls with the only light being artificial. He got what he wanted, so he should be happy, right?
Except this is all a little too much at one time. The idea of the sky was a little weird and daunting, sure, but fucking space?! Comic books did not do it justice, no sirree bob! He looked up and saw space. He looked dead ahead and saw space. He looked down and saw space. Despite being behind glass he felt like he'd be sucked in and lost forever, which is why there's a rather frazzled looking greaser backing away from the glass, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.]
catch-a-riiiiide (and try not to cry)
[No.
Butch DeLoria didn't take too kindly to bugs. Radroaches were bad enough, and alright, maybe he was able to get over that crippling fear thanks to a certain someone's help. But that still didn't mean he was totally comfortable around the things. After all, the bugs that sometimes got in the vault were big but these were bigger.
But it was his only transport at the moment and he didn't want to look like a punk, so he boarded.
You bet when the thing loses control Butch is the first one to let out a yell followed by a string of curses.]
Let me off this thing!
Back on the Moira
[Butch stood in the halls, moira uniform now on, though he opted to wear his Tunnel Snakes jacket over it. His arms are crossed with one leg raised and against the wall, looking like your typical trouble maker except totally outdated. His collar is even popped - who still does that?
Eventually when someone happens to pass by he addresses them, having pulled a comb out of his pocket to drag through his severely greasy pompadour.]
'Ey, you got a cig on ya?
[The first time Butch was told he was on a space ship he laughed. The second time he got annoyed that people insisted on keeping up the lame joke. The third time he began threatening people until he was pointed towards the observation deck in an attempt to shut him up. When he stares out into the expanse of space his eyes widen to the size of golf balls.
He had heard so much about the sky, and how big and vast it was, and to be honest it kind of freaked him out. But he still wanted to get out of the vault and see it. He was sick of being trapped behind those metal walls with the only light being artificial. He got what he wanted, so he should be happy, right?
Except this is all a little too much at one time. The idea of the sky was a little weird and daunting, sure, but fucking space?! Comic books did not do it justice, no sirree bob! He looked up and saw space. He looked dead ahead and saw space. He looked down and saw space. Despite being behind glass he felt like he'd be sucked in and lost forever, which is why there's a rather frazzled looking greaser backing away from the glass, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.]
catch-a-riiiiide (and try not to cry)
[No.
Butch DeLoria didn't take too kindly to bugs. Radroaches were bad enough, and alright, maybe he was able to get over that crippling fear thanks to a certain someone's help. But that still didn't mean he was totally comfortable around the things. After all, the bugs that sometimes got in the vault were big but these were bigger.
But it was his only transport at the moment and he didn't want to look like a punk, so he boarded.
You bet when the thing loses control Butch is the first one to let out a yell followed by a string of curses.]
Let me off this thing!
Back on the Moira
[Butch stood in the halls, moira uniform now on, though he opted to wear his Tunnel Snakes jacket over it. His arms are crossed with one leg raised and against the wall, looking like your typical trouble maker except totally outdated. His collar is even popped - who still does that?
Eventually when someone happens to pass by he addresses them, having pulled a comb out of his pocket to drag through his severely greasy pompadour.]
'Ey, you got a cig on ya?
[Exploring the planet]
[ So. Cromia was fascinating, if a bit weird. Charlie was genuinely expecting this to turn into some 80's movie about killer futuristic robots, but aside from the occasional insult and the tomato that just missed her? Charlie was relatively amused. In her own kind-of-half-smiling way.
At one point, she's going to find a bench to plant herself on and, pulling a journal, a pen and a hair tie out of her backpack, her blonde hair is tied back and she starts writing. For anyone that peeks over her shoulder in an attempt to see what she's writing, there will be a brief glance at a letter to her dad, and then the book will slam shut and there'll be a 17 year old girl calmly staring at you until you stop. ]
[Back on the ship.]
[ Well, someone's day went a bit south fast. First, she almost died on one of those giant bugs. And then, apparently her string of swearing upset a local because now she had tomato in her hair and was trying to scrape it out as she made her way to her room. So she might be a bit short tempered for a second or two. Sorry. ]
[ So. Cromia was fascinating, if a bit weird. Charlie was genuinely expecting this to turn into some 80's movie about killer futuristic robots, but aside from the occasional insult and the tomato that just missed her? Charlie was relatively amused. In her own kind-of-half-smiling way.
At one point, she's going to find a bench to plant herself on and, pulling a journal, a pen and a hair tie out of her backpack, her blonde hair is tied back and she starts writing. For anyone that peeks over her shoulder in an attempt to see what she's writing, there will be a brief glance at a letter to her dad, and then the book will slam shut and there'll be a 17 year old girl calmly staring at you until you stop. ]
[Back on the ship.]
[ Well, someone's day went a bit south fast. First, she almost died on one of those giant bugs. And then, apparently her string of swearing upset a local because now she had tomato in her hair and was trying to scrape it out as she made her way to her room. So she might be a bit short tempered for a second or two. Sorry. ]
Edited 2016-04-11 21:56 (UTC)
Network/Action aboard the Moira »
[ It had taken BB a little while to get settled. While he didn't fight them installing the MID into his system as he didn't have an arm to attach it to, he got more than a little feisty when they got too close to the memory drive - something he still needed to deliver. And while he was aboard the Moira, he was going to continue to do his best to protect it until he could find Poe again. When scanning the network, he managed to track down quite a few people but not the one person he still was hoping to find. He quickly beeps something into a text to send out the request, keeping it short and to the point as he rolls out of Medbay. His mission back home was almost complete, but this was something a little more personal than that. ]
If anyone was more interested in trying to track him down, he'll be beep bopping around the rest of the ship trying to locate the others and maybe even meet some new people. You may even find him on the observation deck with a projection of the stars back home (but not Luke's map - no that is still tucked away safely), trying to line them up to deduce which galaxy they might be in - if there's any overlap between the two. ]
Roaming around Cromia »
[ BB-8 has been left alone for the most part while exploring the planet. He takes every opportunity to study and scan different areas and its people, cheerfully beeping to anyone who might engage with him. Building his own databases of these new worlds to possibly assist anyone else who might need answers.
The differences between the technology levels are enough to keep him intrigued, offering a friendly beep here and there to passerbys. Although, BB-8 doesn't take too kindly to the natives touching him and trying to pull on his antenna. The beeping turns a little more frantic when a particular native starts following him yelling something about how he may or may not have rolled through a restricted area. He smoothly dodges vegetables strewn about the ground, his head spinning back slightly to track his progress - see if he needs to move a little faster. At least until he clunks into someone else. Oh boy, this was bad.
Head sliding back, he brings out his little arm ready to shock whoever he ran into while spouting off some semi-hostile beeping. ]
[ It had taken BB a little while to get settled. While he didn't fight them installing the MID into his system as he didn't have an arm to attach it to, he got more than a little feisty when they got too close to the memory drive - something he still needed to deliver. And while he was aboard the Moira, he was going to continue to do his best to protect it until he could find Poe again. When scanning the network, he managed to track down quite a few people but not the one person he still was hoping to find. He quickly beeps something into a text to send out the request, keeping it short and to the point as he rolls out of Medbay. His mission back home was almost complete, but this was something a little more personal than that. ]
01001000 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101111 00101110 00100000 01001101 01111001 00100000 01101110 01100001 01101101 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01000010 01000010[ And this would all be fine and dandy if BB-8 actually knew how to text. Maybe it was a glitch in how it was installed or that he needed to actually input the text rather than utilizing the handy voice to text feature for droids on the go........ BUT To anyone who knows how to read binary, it says: Hello. My name is BB-8. I am a unit astromech droid. I am trying to locate Poe Dameron. I was not able to locate him in your crew files. Assistance would be appreciated.
00101101 00111000 00101110 00100000 01001001 00100000 01100001 01101101 00100000 01100001 00100000 01110101 01101110 01101001 01110100 00100000 01100001 01110011 01110100 01110010
01101111 01101101 01100101 01100011 01101000 00100000 01100100 01110010 01101111 01101001 01100100 00101110 00100000 01001001 00100000 01100001 01101101 00100000 01110100 01110010
01111001 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101100 01101111 01100011 01100001 01110100 01100101 00100000 01010000 01101111 01100101 00100000 01000100
01100001 01101101 01100101 01110010 01101111 01101110 00101110 00100000 01001001 00100000 01110111 01100001 01110011 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01100001 01100010
01101100 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101100 01101111 01100011 01100001 01110100 01100101 00100000 01101000 01101001 01101101 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000
01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01100011 01110010 01100101 01110111 00100000 01100110 01101001 01101100 01100101 01110011 00101110 00100000 01000001 01110011 01110011
01101001 01110011 01110100 01100001 01101110 01100011 01100101 00100000 01110111 01101111 01110101 01101100 01100100 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01110000 01110000
01110010 01100101 01100011 01101001 01100001 01110100 01100101 01100100 00101110
If anyone was more interested in trying to track him down, he'll be beep bopping around the rest of the ship trying to locate the others and maybe even meet some new people. You may even find him on the observation deck with a projection of the stars back home (but not Luke's map - no that is still tucked away safely), trying to line them up to deduce which galaxy they might be in - if there's any overlap between the two. ]
Roaming around Cromia »
[ BB-8 has been left alone for the most part while exploring the planet. He takes every opportunity to study and scan different areas and its people, cheerfully beeping to anyone who might engage with him. Building his own databases of these new worlds to possibly assist anyone else who might need answers.
The differences between the technology levels are enough to keep him intrigued, offering a friendly beep here and there to passerbys. Although, BB-8 doesn't take too kindly to the natives touching him and trying to pull on his antenna. The beeping turns a little more frantic when a particular native starts following him yelling something about how he may or may not have rolled through a restricted area. He smoothly dodges vegetables strewn about the ground, his head spinning back slightly to track his progress - see if he needs to move a little faster. At least until he clunks into someone else. Oh boy, this was bad.
Head sliding back, he brings out his little arm ready to shock whoever he ran into while spouting off some semi-hostile beeping. ]
🍬 the ingress
[Hair sticking up in every direction, eyes wide, he cups his hands around his mouth and yells.]
Carooollllll. Where are you, it's Tandy? Carol!
[Just coming out of the Ingress is second on his list of important things to think about right now. That's a lie. It's close to thirteenth on his list, honestly, it's just not important. He can't find Carol. His sweet, wacky Carol.]
Carol Pilbasian! Care-bear. Come on.
[He shoves past anyone on the walkway leading from the Ingress.]
🍬 taste the rainbow
[Tandy thought skittles was a type of candy, but apparently it's a game. Something that looks like bowling, but everything if friggin' huge.]
I'm a master skittles player. I was the all-time champion of skittles back home. Three gold metals and one silver.
[A hand on one hip, he gestures wildly with the other towards the ten foot high pins.]
I have a move. The tandy special. I can toss this ball and knock them all over, all at the same time.
[He tosses the small ball, catching it with his other hand.]
It's okay if you don't want to play. I wouldn't want to play against me either.
🍬 wildcard
[ooc: He can be found by the pool or trying to take over a bedroom for himself.]
[Hair sticking up in every direction, eyes wide, he cups his hands around his mouth and yells.]
Carooollllll. Where are you, it's Tandy? Carol!
[Just coming out of the Ingress is second on his list of important things to think about right now. That's a lie. It's close to thirteenth on his list, honestly, it's just not important. He can't find Carol. His sweet, wacky Carol.]
Carol Pilbasian! Care-bear. Come on.
[He shoves past anyone on the walkway leading from the Ingress.]
🍬 taste the rainbow
[Tandy thought skittles was a type of candy, but apparently it's a game. Something that looks like bowling, but everything if friggin' huge.]
I'm a master skittles player. I was the all-time champion of skittles back home. Three gold metals and one silver.
[A hand on one hip, he gestures wildly with the other towards the ten foot high pins.]
I have a move. The tandy special. I can toss this ball and knock them all over, all at the same time.
[He tosses the small ball, catching it with his other hand.]
It's okay if you don't want to play. I wouldn't want to play against me either.
🍬 wildcard
[ooc: He can be found by the pool or trying to take over a bedroom for himself.]
(A) medbay.
[a prison is only as good as its medical facilities, wesker supposes. what's the use of bringing indentured workers if the moira can't keep them well and alive? it's with that thought that he makes his way to the medbay, being discreet as possible as he examines everything he is able.
of course, he doesn't exactly fit in, he guesses. not only is he taller than the avergage crew member, but he's also outfitted in his S.T.A.R.S uniform. he looks like a cop; even wearing sunglasses.
hence his extreme discreetness. such a pity, too, considering the fasinating equipment he can see from just the hallway. he really wants to ask about it and the practices of the doctors onboard. maybe it even shows on his face.]
Interesting.
(B) garden.
[with so much of his research mired in the properties of certain flora and fauna, it's no surprise he had taken a liking to the gardens. there were so many new species of plants to discover in space. unfortunately, he wasn't a botanist, one of the few sciences he had taken no interest in, and could only wonder which plants would further his studies.
and then, of course, there were the cats. and annoying white dogs. literally everywhere. every time one of them crossed his path, his distaste was probably clear on his features. one in particular kept following him, some slinky, black thing hot on his heels.]
Scram.
(C) wildcard.
[do whats in ur heart]
[a prison is only as good as its medical facilities, wesker supposes. what's the use of bringing indentured workers if the moira can't keep them well and alive? it's with that thought that he makes his way to the medbay, being discreet as possible as he examines everything he is able.
of course, he doesn't exactly fit in, he guesses. not only is he taller than the avergage crew member, but he's also outfitted in his S.T.A.R.S uniform. he looks like a cop; even wearing sunglasses.
hence his extreme discreetness. such a pity, too, considering the fasinating equipment he can see from just the hallway. he really wants to ask about it and the practices of the doctors onboard. maybe it even shows on his face.]
Interesting.
(B) garden.
[with so much of his research mired in the properties of certain flora and fauna, it's no surprise he had taken a liking to the gardens. there were so many new species of plants to discover in space. unfortunately, he wasn't a botanist, one of the few sciences he had taken no interest in, and could only wonder which plants would further his studies.
and then, of course, there were the cats. and annoying white dogs. literally everywhere. every time one of them crossed his path, his distaste was probably clear on his features. one in particular kept following him, some slinky, black thing hot on his heels.]
Scram.
(C) wildcard.
[do whats in ur heart]
Walls of Nothingness
[If someone told him that not only would he leave those god forsaken walls and fly into space, he would have called them insane. To think that humans could ever get to space when he had never even seen an ocean before, that was crazy. He stands there on the observation deck. His arms over his chest as he stares into the abyss of black and blinking stars. When was the last time he actually looked back up at the stars? It had been so long ago.
A short huff of disdain leaves him as he still stares. It shouldn't be him here, there were many others more deserving to leave that hell that they called home. He belonged there. He knew how that world worked down to very last detail, and he didn't mind it one bit. Even if he just saw horrors that not even Titans could install, he would quickly go back to that if it meant others were safe. He didn't mind being the one with blood on his hands, or being the one to fight for survival. He was use to it and he knew he was good at it.
Even if he didn't deserve this, a part of him was still thankful for the peace and calm that came with this ship. He didn't know how long it would last until he was ripped from it, but he would enjoy every second of it. His arms unfold, and a hand comes to touch the cool glass.]
....Not bad.
[His fingers leave bloody prints. It wasn't his blood though, the only part of him that was still bleeding was his cheek from his fight with the Military Police. His eyes narrow at his bloody reflection and then at the smudges of finger prints, grime, and blood his hands leaves on the glass. There he went again...ruining something beautiful.]
Tch....where the hell is a towel...?
All Aboard: Mess Hall
[What...is all of this?
Levi just stands there in front of a food dispenser. He had just come from the med bay, he hadn't even changed out of his military uniform yet. People are passing around him as he gazes with his jaw slightly agap in disbelief. He has never seen so much food in one place-- so much different types of food. He wasn't even sure what most of there were.
There were too many choices, and the pictures didn't help when he had no idea what they were to begin with. He wasn't even sure how the get the food out...]
Where the hell is just the bread?
[Bread. Yes. Bread was safe. They have to have bread. He could live off of that until he had a better idea of what the hell was going on. Eventually he finds the bread, that and water is all he takes with him towards the table. What an odd sight...
Someone help this poor man before he starves.]
Veggie Tales
[Odd to say, this was very familiar to his home behind the walls. The houses, the technology, the closed minded belief system. it was all very similar. Well...except for the whole everyone-is-a-robot thing. He still wasn't even sure how that was possible or what evening a robot even meant. Things like that weren't even figures of fiction in his world.
He kept his hood up, to try and blend in but mostly it was to keep other know that he was staring. It was hard not too. Unlucky for him though, he was found out. His eyes caught a rather large local, the inorganic man towered over him as he stood in his path. Levi didn't seem all too concerned though.]
What are you staring at, organic?
[He could hear gears grinding. How odd. He only heard that sound when his 3D gear needed to be oiled.]
Your rusted up face. Can't you tell?
[....Maybe not the best thing to say. The next thing he knew the rusted man moved to jab something in his face, but Levi was much quicker than he was. The same can't be said for the poor person that was just passing by him. They just got a face full of rotting something. Sorry fellow crew mate....]
[If someone told him that not only would he leave those god forsaken walls and fly into space, he would have called them insane. To think that humans could ever get to space when he had never even seen an ocean before, that was crazy. He stands there on the observation deck. His arms over his chest as he stares into the abyss of black and blinking stars. When was the last time he actually looked back up at the stars? It had been so long ago.
A short huff of disdain leaves him as he still stares. It shouldn't be him here, there were many others more deserving to leave that hell that they called home. He belonged there. He knew how that world worked down to very last detail, and he didn't mind it one bit. Even if he just saw horrors that not even Titans could install, he would quickly go back to that if it meant others were safe. He didn't mind being the one with blood on his hands, or being the one to fight for survival. He was use to it and he knew he was good at it.
Even if he didn't deserve this, a part of him was still thankful for the peace and calm that came with this ship. He didn't know how long it would last until he was ripped from it, but he would enjoy every second of it. His arms unfold, and a hand comes to touch the cool glass.]
....Not bad.
[His fingers leave bloody prints. It wasn't his blood though, the only part of him that was still bleeding was his cheek from his fight with the Military Police. His eyes narrow at his bloody reflection and then at the smudges of finger prints, grime, and blood his hands leaves on the glass. There he went again...ruining something beautiful.]
Tch....where the hell is a towel...?
All Aboard: Mess Hall
[What...is all of this?
Levi just stands there in front of a food dispenser. He had just come from the med bay, he hadn't even changed out of his military uniform yet. People are passing around him as he gazes with his jaw slightly agap in disbelief. He has never seen so much food in one place-- so much different types of food. He wasn't even sure what most of there were.
There were too many choices, and the pictures didn't help when he had no idea what they were to begin with. He wasn't even sure how the get the food out...]
Where the hell is just the bread?
[Bread. Yes. Bread was safe. They have to have bread. He could live off of that until he had a better idea of what the hell was going on. Eventually he finds the bread, that and water is all he takes with him towards the table. What an odd sight...
Someone help this poor man before he starves.]
Veggie Tales
[Odd to say, this was very familiar to his home behind the walls. The houses, the technology, the closed minded belief system. it was all very similar. Well...except for the whole everyone-is-a-robot thing. He still wasn't even sure how that was possible or what evening a robot even meant. Things like that weren't even figures of fiction in his world.
He kept his hood up, to try and blend in but mostly it was to keep other know that he was staring. It was hard not too. Unlucky for him though, he was found out. His eyes caught a rather large local, the inorganic man towered over him as he stood in his path. Levi didn't seem all too concerned though.]
What are you staring at, organic?
[He could hear gears grinding. How odd. He only heard that sound when his 3D gear needed to be oiled.]
Your rusted up face. Can't you tell?
[....Maybe not the best thing to say. The next thing he knew the rusted man moved to jab something in his face, but Levi was much quicker than he was. The same can't be said for the poor person that was just passing by him. They just got a face full of rotting something. Sorry fellow crew mate....]
Edited 2016-04-12 02:38 (UTC)
1. arrival
[Uhh, well. This is an interesting ... dream?
That is, after all, the only possible explanation for finding herself in a room filled with not only shiny, beautiful, definitely-not-picked-from-a-garbage-dump computers, but also humans. A lot of humans. Nothing but humans as she is ushered along the walkway leading off the Ingress.
So, it's a dream! A nice dream about what the state of current human civilization might be. The longer it goes on, the better it gets. Everyone's being so kind and they even give her a brand new sci-fi phone to wear on her wrist.
A good thing at first, as she seems to have lost her own phone. She's got to wander back to that glowy computer room she'd first found herself in and take some photos for future reference. Future... dream reference. Sort of an unusually self-aware thought to have in the middle of a dream, but identifying red flags has never been her expertise.
Problems arise after she's managed to take a few pictures. The short, chubby yellow lizard-girl stands in the middle of the Ingress platform staring deeply and confusedly into her MID. Oblivious to others, she starts muttering to herself.]
Where do I log in on this thing? Does this not even have UnderNet preloaded?
2. bar
[Eventually, Alphys figured it out. And now Alphys is not quite so enthused.
At the far dark end of the bar counter, she sits by herself. Her feet hand off the stool and wiggle uncontrollably with double-barreled restless leg syndrome. Her posture is desperately hunched over, like she's attempting to hide with every fiber of her being. But every movement in her peripheral vision makes her glance over her shoulder, eyes wide, as if expecting something to come flying toward her face.
In front of her is a tall, untouched glass of water and a styrofoam cup of steaming instant noodles, equally untouched. It's hard to eat when you're so preoccupied with WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON.]
3. cromia
[Fantasy medieval robots is a little bit closer to what she was hoping to find when she made it out of the barrier. Of course, at this point she really doesn't know if that's what has actually happened, but since this isn't a dream, that's the only remaining possibility, isn't it?
At the royal family's ball, she's content to watch the metal locals flit about the room, serving their organic guests. When one comes in close to refill her glass with oil, she gleefully squishes her hands into her face as she gawks.]
Did you see that? [she says aloud to the person sitting beside her. a strong odor of oil-wine permeates the air when she talks.] I'm pretty sure that one had at least three actuators in its wrist alone.
[Uhh, well. This is an interesting ... dream?
That is, after all, the only possible explanation for finding herself in a room filled with not only shiny, beautiful, definitely-not-picked-from-a-garbage-dump computers, but also humans. A lot of humans. Nothing but humans as she is ushered along the walkway leading off the Ingress.
So, it's a dream! A nice dream about what the state of current human civilization might be. The longer it goes on, the better it gets. Everyone's being so kind and they even give her a brand new sci-fi phone to wear on her wrist.
A good thing at first, as she seems to have lost her own phone. She's got to wander back to that glowy computer room she'd first found herself in and take some photos for future reference. Future... dream reference. Sort of an unusually self-aware thought to have in the middle of a dream, but identifying red flags has never been her expertise.
Problems arise after she's managed to take a few pictures. The short, chubby yellow lizard-girl stands in the middle of the Ingress platform staring deeply and confusedly into her MID. Oblivious to others, she starts muttering to herself.]
Where do I log in on this thing? Does this not even have UnderNet preloaded?
2. bar
[Eventually, Alphys figured it out. And now Alphys is not quite so enthused.
At the far dark end of the bar counter, she sits by herself. Her feet hand off the stool and wiggle uncontrollably with double-barreled restless leg syndrome. Her posture is desperately hunched over, like she's attempting to hide with every fiber of her being. But every movement in her peripheral vision makes her glance over her shoulder, eyes wide, as if expecting something to come flying toward her face.
In front of her is a tall, untouched glass of water and a styrofoam cup of steaming instant noodles, equally untouched. It's hard to eat when you're so preoccupied with WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON.]
3. cromia
[Fantasy medieval robots is a little bit closer to what she was hoping to find when she made it out of the barrier. Of course, at this point she really doesn't know if that's what has actually happened, but since this isn't a dream, that's the only remaining possibility, isn't it?
At the royal family's ball, she's content to watch the metal locals flit about the room, serving their organic guests. When one comes in close to refill her glass with oil, she gleefully squishes her hands into her face as she gawks.]
Did you see that? [she says aloud to the person sitting beside her. a strong odor of oil-wine permeates the air when she talks.] I'm pretty sure that one had at least three actuators in its wrist alone.
[There are a few things that hit certain buttons with Arcee, even if she doesn't really air such out, and one of those is mechanical bugs.]
You would think they'd pick something different then a creature that a lot of humans consider creepy.
[The first time one of those things goes crazy she's shooting first and asking questions later.]
[Seeing some of the natives acting aggressive towards the organic crewmates of the Moira manages to flip a switch. It's almost automatic for her hand to shoot out to intercept the flying piece of fruit.]
Not much of a welcoming committee for such a supposedly peaceful planet.
[Hit me!]
MESS HALL
[ Getting abducted onto mysterious space craft is kind of something Peter's used to. Except this ship is a lot nicer and he's not a little kid. Which is kind of an improvement. He gets into a slight argument with someone in Medbay though. Mostly about signing the contract. He gives up, signs it with a grumble. He does however put the touchpad screen on the other side of the room so they have to come and fetch it. He's making a serious point. The next journey is the uniform. Which he puts on and immediately hates. He must've asked a hundred times if people can see the outline of his junk. He's like almost a hundred percent sure they can.
When he wanders into the mess hall he's still pulling at the crotch of his uniform. Holding his clothes to him. He did however put his red leather jacket on over the uniform because everything about this uniform feels incredibly wrong. Please feel to approach the wild man who is now trying to look behind him and see if this human condom is riding up his ass. ]
OBSERVATION DECK
That little bastard better not be messing with my ship. [ Mostly it's just Peter mumbling to himself. Leaving Rocket alone in the Milano makes him wildly uncomfortable. But leaving Drax alone is worse. Because he's pretty sure that dude will break everything in there. Peter looks wildly unimpressed with the view. Mostly because he's pretty sure he has a better one from the Milano. Or so he thinks. ]
REC ROOM
[ Peter zeroes in on the pool because it's a been a while since he's been able to swim. In a nice pool. This is like the only saving grace on this ship he's decided. It has a pool. That's heated. Everything else is all instantly garbage to him. ]
[ Getting abducted onto mysterious space craft is kind of something Peter's used to. Except this ship is a lot nicer and he's not a little kid. Which is kind of an improvement. He gets into a slight argument with someone in Medbay though. Mostly about signing the contract. He gives up, signs it with a grumble. He does however put the touchpad screen on the other side of the room so they have to come and fetch it. He's making a serious point. The next journey is the uniform. Which he puts on and immediately hates. He must've asked a hundred times if people can see the outline of his junk. He's like almost a hundred percent sure they can.
When he wanders into the mess hall he's still pulling at the crotch of his uniform. Holding his clothes to him. He did however put his red leather jacket on over the uniform because everything about this uniform feels incredibly wrong. Please feel to approach the wild man who is now trying to look behind him and see if this human condom is riding up his ass. ]
OBSERVATION DECK
That little bastard better not be messing with my ship. [ Mostly it's just Peter mumbling to himself. Leaving Rocket alone in the Milano makes him wildly uncomfortable. But leaving Drax alone is worse. Because he's pretty sure that dude will break everything in there. Peter looks wildly unimpressed with the view. Mostly because he's pretty sure he has a better one from the Milano. Or so he thinks. ]
REC ROOM
[ Peter zeroes in on the pool because it's a been a while since he's been able to swim. In a nice pool. This is like the only saving grace on this ship he's decided. It has a pool. That's heated. Everything else is all instantly garbage to him. ]
Fresh off the Boat
[ It probably ain't the best first impression to make, coming through the Ingress soaked to the skin and dripping river water everywhere. Add in how he looks like he just came from a warzone and he's not exactly a shining example of what new crew ought to look like. Once he's been through medical and had a fancy shackle placed on his wrist he's in the wind with no real idea where he's going. After all, it wasn't like he was expecting to wake up after being drowned.
So Booker wanders. His first stop is the Observation Deck, where he stands and stares out at the stars and is, once again, reminded of Elizabeth. She said that the stars were all doors. If he was surrounded by them then... she sent him somewhere real far. ]
Where the hell did you send me...?
[ After that Booker reverts to type a bit. It doesn't take too much exploring to figure out where the bar is, and then he makes himself into a fixture with the intention of drowning his sorrows a bit. In his defense, he's had a rough week. He orders a whiskey and then toasts whoever's closest before tossing it back. ]
Cheers.
Well... at least it's edible.
[ The mess hall doesn't always produce the best food, but beggars can't be choosers. While others might be hesitant to eat some of the offerings due to their unusual colors or odors, Booker has no such hangups. He's filled his plate and is working his way through it with the work ethic of someone who has gone without in the past. So when he looks up and notices others not eating he frowns and points with his fork. ]
It ain't that bad, you know. [ It really actually is. But it's edible so long as you can get past the smell, anyways. ]
Wildcard
[ Make your own option! ]
[ It probably ain't the best first impression to make, coming through the Ingress soaked to the skin and dripping river water everywhere. Add in how he looks like he just came from a warzone and he's not exactly a shining example of what new crew ought to look like. Once he's been through medical and had a fancy shackle placed on his wrist he's in the wind with no real idea where he's going. After all, it wasn't like he was expecting to wake up after being drowned.
So Booker wanders. His first stop is the Observation Deck, where he stands and stares out at the stars and is, once again, reminded of Elizabeth. She said that the stars were all doors. If he was surrounded by them then... she sent him somewhere real far. ]
Where the hell did you send me...?
[ After that Booker reverts to type a bit. It doesn't take too much exploring to figure out where the bar is, and then he makes himself into a fixture with the intention of drowning his sorrows a bit. In his defense, he's had a rough week. He orders a whiskey and then toasts whoever's closest before tossing it back. ]
Cheers.
Well... at least it's edible.
[ The mess hall doesn't always produce the best food, but beggars can't be choosers. While others might be hesitant to eat some of the offerings due to their unusual colors or odors, Booker has no such hangups. He's filled his plate and is working his way through it with the work ethic of someone who has gone without in the past. So when he looks up and notices others not eating he frowns and points with his fork. ]
It ain't that bad, you know. [ It really actually is. But it's edible so long as you can get past the smell, anyways. ]
Wildcard
[ Make your own option! ]
Around the Ship
[Now, it should really impress everyone who has ever known him that Whirl's first response wasn't to attack the closest thing.
…That might have something more to do with being dropped in the middle of nowhere on yet another ship that he didn't sign up for…even if technically by not getting off said ship the second time meant he'd pretty much signed on for…whatever. Not the point. Point was, he hadn't broken any major load bearing walls, no one was missing limbs, everyone still had their fluids housed internally, and as far as he knew there were no interspecies incidents this time.
So.
Things were going well. He'd gotten a little bit of a crash course and something of a 'you are here' so, better than nothing.
Now that said, Whirl was accosting the nearest organic because someone wasn't giving him as much information as he wanted, as quickly as he wanted it, and that meant someone was going to have to do something before some mech became a little more irritated and things got out of control. ]
Hey! Squishy. You. Yeah, you!
[ His voice comes out sounding more mechanized than any of the other Cybertronians that anyone has likely run into. This somehow manages to make it approximately 76% more annoying than it would be otherwise.]
Observation Deck
[Really, it's probably a little disconcerting to see the large mech still in any way. At least in the sort of way that isn't showing some probability for future violence, somehow. But he is standing and staring out the large window, which means something's distracted him for all of a moment.
Well. He might not spend most of his days staring out the window like some killjoys he knows but he knows that he recognizes exactly none of the stars out there, and that's just sort of the state of his recent existence. Dragged from one place to another, and approximately nowhere familiar.
After a moment Whirl's optic seems to narrow and he leans forward to tap the glass with the front of his optical bell. He then proceeds to make a sound that's far closer to a whir of static than anything else. Second rate
parts make for not quite having the vocal range you'd want, and so therefore something that should be an exaggerated groan just comes out a garbled mess.
After a moment, he proceeds to do it again, smacking it slightly harder and making a louder sound. This goes on for a few minutes.
He's pretty sure he did something to deserve this, but which thing out of the list that is very long and getting longer, he's not sure. ]
Wildcard!
[OOC: Go nuts, have a good time.]
[Now, it should really impress everyone who has ever known him that Whirl's first response wasn't to attack the closest thing.
…That might have something more to do with being dropped in the middle of nowhere on yet another ship that he didn't sign up for…even if technically by not getting off said ship the second time meant he'd pretty much signed on for…whatever. Not the point. Point was, he hadn't broken any major load bearing walls, no one was missing limbs, everyone still had their fluids housed internally, and as far as he knew there were no interspecies incidents this time.
So.
Things were going well. He'd gotten a little bit of a crash course and something of a 'you are here' so, better than nothing.
Now that said, Whirl was accosting the nearest organic because someone wasn't giving him as much information as he wanted, as quickly as he wanted it, and that meant someone was going to have to do something before some mech became a little more irritated and things got out of control. ]
Hey! Squishy. You. Yeah, you!
[ His voice comes out sounding more mechanized than any of the other Cybertronians that anyone has likely run into. This somehow manages to make it approximately 76% more annoying than it would be otherwise.]
Observation Deck
[Really, it's probably a little disconcerting to see the large mech still in any way. At least in the sort of way that isn't showing some probability for future violence, somehow. But he is standing and staring out the large window, which means something's distracted him for all of a moment.
Well. He might not spend most of his days staring out the window like some killjoys he knows but he knows that he recognizes exactly none of the stars out there, and that's just sort of the state of his recent existence. Dragged from one place to another, and approximately nowhere familiar.
After a moment Whirl's optic seems to narrow and he leans forward to tap the glass with the front of his optical bell. He then proceeds to make a sound that's far closer to a whir of static than anything else. Second rate
parts make for not quite having the vocal range you'd want, and so therefore something that should be an exaggerated groan just comes out a garbled mess.
After a moment, he proceeds to do it again, smacking it slightly harder and making a louder sound. This goes on for a few minutes.
He's pretty sure he did something to deserve this, but which thing out of the list that is very long and getting longer, he's not sure. ]
Wildcard!
[OOC: Go nuts, have a good time.]
Edited 2016-04-12 07:56 (UTC)
1. observation lounge;
stars in their multitude
[There is so much out there it feels suffocating. Armin has been standing watching the the stars for what feels like hours. He feels small at the best of times, right now the slender teenager feels microscopic. How could he have imagined he would somehow turn up in a place even further from the world he knew, even less tenuously connected to anything familiar? His chest hurts with the effort of trying to calm his breathing. He's clenching his jaw - isn't sure he can unclench it.
There is a void in his heart in the place where things like tears and panic usually flow from. Armin is dried up. 16 and cynical. He never thought he could miss being a weakling crybaby. But this hurts worse, in a way, being so frozen he cannot react.
As if reading his mood, the orange striped kitten in his arms lets out a mew, demanding his attention. Armin tears his gaze away from the starscape, scratching behind the kitten's ears.]
There, there Liza. I think I saw some new playmates for you darting around.
2. cromia;
and we'll never be royals
[The words 'royal family' and 'festivities after sunset' have Armin extremely wary. He definitely considers skipping the event altogether. It's not like anyone around here knows him well enough to guilt him for not attending. Still, Armin's sense of duty and exploration get the better of him. Considering how bizarre everything on Cromia has been (not that he minds things getting hucked at him, really, that almost feels nostalgic), who knows what he might experience here? There will be new foods, new customs to learn about. In the end he can't pass it up.
Besides, if anything's going to go wrong in a big way, it's bound to be here. That's what life in Eros has taught him. Yet somehow all that caution and experience doesn't keep him from trying the wine. He could really take the edge off, besides, what's the point of even coming if he doesn't try something? Maybe this place doesn't have wine that makes you do insane things and forget who you are.
Maybe this place just has wine that tastes and feels like the stuff you use to clean up your gear. Armin sputters in distress, glancing around to see if anyone important saw his unprofessional reaction. He glances over to one of his shipmates, muttering under his breath:]
I think this wine is for robots.
[A warning for fellow organics, and a helpful tip to any robots, perhaps.]
stars in their multitude
[There is so much out there it feels suffocating. Armin has been standing watching the the stars for what feels like hours. He feels small at the best of times, right now the slender teenager feels microscopic. How could he have imagined he would somehow turn up in a place even further from the world he knew, even less tenuously connected to anything familiar? His chest hurts with the effort of trying to calm his breathing. He's clenching his jaw - isn't sure he can unclench it.
There is a void in his heart in the place where things like tears and panic usually flow from. Armin is dried up. 16 and cynical. He never thought he could miss being a weakling crybaby. But this hurts worse, in a way, being so frozen he cannot react.
As if reading his mood, the orange striped kitten in his arms lets out a mew, demanding his attention. Armin tears his gaze away from the starscape, scratching behind the kitten's ears.]
There, there Liza. I think I saw some new playmates for you darting around.
2. cromia;
and we'll never be royals
[The words 'royal family' and 'festivities after sunset' have Armin extremely wary. He definitely considers skipping the event altogether. It's not like anyone around here knows him well enough to guilt him for not attending. Still, Armin's sense of duty and exploration get the better of him. Considering how bizarre everything on Cromia has been (not that he minds things getting hucked at him, really, that almost feels nostalgic), who knows what he might experience here? There will be new foods, new customs to learn about. In the end he can't pass it up.
Besides, if anything's going to go wrong in a big way, it's bound to be here. That's what life in Eros has taught him. Yet somehow all that caution and experience doesn't keep him from trying the wine. He could really take the edge off, besides, what's the point of even coming if he doesn't try something? Maybe this place doesn't have wine that makes you do insane things and forget who you are.
Maybe this place just has wine that tastes and feels like the stuff you use to clean up your gear. Armin sputters in distress, glancing around to see if anyone important saw his unprofessional reaction. He glances over to one of his shipmates, muttering under his breath:]
I think this wine is for robots.
[A warning for fellow organics, and a helpful tip to any robots, perhaps.]
Edited 2016-04-12 09:21 (UTC)
moira: ingress }
There's a certain aesthetic you adjust to when you're surrounded by the decomposition of society, one that makes it very immediately apparent that Glenn is not where he belongs. After emerging from the Ingress, his gaze moves over the computers that line the walls with building alarm, his brow furrowing and eyes widening.
Slowly, he turns until he's facing the portal from which he emerged, stepping backward from it as he stares. And then, his face contorts in desperation as he searches the room. There are other people here - living people, strangers, and that's cause enough to be on guard, but having been so clearly removed from where he belongs, there is an imperative he must address and therefore only one thing he says.
"Maggie!?"
moira: observation deck }
He's still dazed, really, by the time he makes his way to the observation deck, staring out into the vastness of space, trying to comprehend that the world (such as it is), every person that he loves and everything he knows is far beyond his ability to see, even as a pinpoint in the black. It's impossible, but he's adapted to the impossible before.
Stepping forward, his gaze moves over the sweeping expanse of the forcefield. It's something of a sight, really. He's relatively clean by the standards of his world, but his clothing is a bit tattered, the utilitarian pants and flannel faded and patched. His unruly hair is swept back save for a few loose, long strands that fall over his eye, and his facial hair has been left to do as it pleases.
There's no way of knowing which way is home, but it's not as if he could accomplish much with that knowledge at the moment anyway. Still, he stays there for a long while, staring rather solemnly into the distance.
whatevs }
[ do your own thang. hit me up on plurk if you want to run it by me.![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
idkmybffinternetcelebrity ]
There's a certain aesthetic you adjust to when you're surrounded by the decomposition of society, one that makes it very immediately apparent that Glenn is not where he belongs. After emerging from the Ingress, his gaze moves over the computers that line the walls with building alarm, his brow furrowing and eyes widening.
Slowly, he turns until he's facing the portal from which he emerged, stepping backward from it as he stares. And then, his face contorts in desperation as he searches the room. There are other people here - living people, strangers, and that's cause enough to be on guard, but having been so clearly removed from where he belongs, there is an imperative he must address and therefore only one thing he says.
"Maggie!?"
moira: observation deck }
He's still dazed, really, by the time he makes his way to the observation deck, staring out into the vastness of space, trying to comprehend that the world (such as it is), every person that he loves and everything he knows is far beyond his ability to see, even as a pinpoint in the black. It's impossible, but he's adapted to the impossible before.
Stepping forward, his gaze moves over the sweeping expanse of the forcefield. It's something of a sight, really. He's relatively clean by the standards of his world, but his clothing is a bit tattered, the utilitarian pants and flannel faded and patched. His unruly hair is swept back save for a few loose, long strands that fall over his eye, and his facial hair has been left to do as it pleases.
There's no way of knowing which way is home, but it's not as if he could accomplish much with that knowledge at the moment anyway. Still, he stays there for a long while, staring rather solemnly into the distance.
whatevs }
[ do your own thang. hit me up on plurk if you want to run it by me.
[just out of the ingress]
[When Nate first opens his eyes and sees where he suddenly is, he thinks maybe he's dead, that Sully picked a bad plane and punched all their tickets. It'd be his second plane crash in a week, which is statistically unlikely but pretty in line with how his luck's been recently.
It's a hell of a weird afterlife, though, if it is one at all. He feels pretty alive, so he's doubtful, even if the alternative is yet another hallucination. Once he's free to do so, Nate makes his way through the crowd, eyes wide and still disbelieving at least half of what he's seeing, but he's getting his wits about him. That doesn't really help, though.]
The hell have I gotten myself into?
[observation deck; bow]
[Not that he's ever given it much thought, but outer space isn't really Nate's thing. He's sure it's cool and all, full of cosmic wonders that can only be properly appreciated by NASA scientists and people with a well-developed sense of scale, but the lack of atmosphere outside hinders any emergency escapes via plane, train or automobile, and the need for such a thing is something he assumes. In space, no one can hear you yell 'Oh crap!'
But the view is pretty amazing. He'll give it that. Nate gets lost in it for a few minutes before noticing that he's not the only one standing here.]
Looks pretty cool, huh?
[cromia in general]
[No point in beating around the bush. The festivities are nice and all, but he's got an uncomfortable lack of resources and is still feeling a little off-balance. What better way to fix both problems than to do what he does best? It's time to pick some pockets.
As soon as he can figure out where the pockets are on these outfits. Huh.]
[choose your own adventure]
[Toss me a scenario and I'll roll with it!]
[When Nate first opens his eyes and sees where he suddenly is, he thinks maybe he's dead, that Sully picked a bad plane and punched all their tickets. It'd be his second plane crash in a week, which is statistically unlikely but pretty in line with how his luck's been recently.
It's a hell of a weird afterlife, though, if it is one at all. He feels pretty alive, so he's doubtful, even if the alternative is yet another hallucination. Once he's free to do so, Nate makes his way through the crowd, eyes wide and still disbelieving at least half of what he's seeing, but he's getting his wits about him. That doesn't really help, though.]
The hell have I gotten myself into?
[observation deck; bow]
[Not that he's ever given it much thought, but outer space isn't really Nate's thing. He's sure it's cool and all, full of cosmic wonders that can only be properly appreciated by NASA scientists and people with a well-developed sense of scale, but the lack of atmosphere outside hinders any emergency escapes via plane, train or automobile, and the need for such a thing is something he assumes. In space, no one can hear you yell 'Oh crap!'
But the view is pretty amazing. He'll give it that. Nate gets lost in it for a few minutes before noticing that he's not the only one standing here.]
Looks pretty cool, huh?
[cromia in general]
[No point in beating around the bush. The festivities are nice and all, but he's got an uncomfortable lack of resources and is still feeling a little off-balance. What better way to fix both problems than to do what he does best? It's time to pick some pockets.
As soon as he can figure out where the pockets are on these outfits. Huh.]
[choose your own adventure]
[Toss me a scenario and I'll roll with it!]
Edited 2016-04-12 16:42 (UTC)
Aboard the Moira:
Checking in?
[Chloe was talking to herself as she looked down at the MID device and eyed the uniform that was given to her. She's not entirely sure what she thought of all of this. It's not something she was really too keen on, but who was? She figured everyone here must've had the same feelings when they came aboard.
She holds up the uniform and eyes it some more.]
Not even my color. I guess there are some things even I can't make look good.
[Chloe is only joking, of course. She could make a burlap sack look good.]
Cromia Museum:
[There are some fascinating pieces on display from across the universe, and being the type who likes such things, Chloe naturally found herself wandering the museum halls. She’s a striking looking woman, some would say, tall at 5’9” with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and bronze skinned. The type of woman that breathes confidence and is used to getting what she wants.
One thing that took her interest in particular is a display of trinkets that appear to be made out of gold, or the closest thing to it they have out in space. Goodness, they are pretty. Oh so pretty.
That look on her face is the kind that says, I like that pretty thing and if I’m feeling bold enough, and I’m damn bold, I might take that pretty thing.
She just got here. Is it too early to cause an inter-stellar incident? Can someone point her to the nearest Earth-embassy? She might need to seek immunity later on if her line of thinking goes uninterrupted.
Please do interrupt her.]
Checking in?
[Chloe was talking to herself as she looked down at the MID device and eyed the uniform that was given to her. She's not entirely sure what she thought of all of this. It's not something she was really too keen on, but who was? She figured everyone here must've had the same feelings when they came aboard.
She holds up the uniform and eyes it some more.]
Not even my color. I guess there are some things even I can't make look good.
[Chloe is only joking, of course. She could make a burlap sack look good.]
Cromia Museum:
[There are some fascinating pieces on display from across the universe, and being the type who likes such things, Chloe naturally found herself wandering the museum halls. She’s a striking looking woman, some would say, tall at 5’9” with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and bronze skinned. The type of woman that breathes confidence and is used to getting what she wants.
One thing that took her interest in particular is a display of trinkets that appear to be made out of gold, or the closest thing to it they have out in space. Goodness, they are pretty. Oh so pretty.
That look on her face is the kind that says, I like that pretty thing and if I’m feeling bold enough, and I’m damn bold, I might take that pretty thing.
She just got here. Is it too early to cause an inter-stellar incident? Can someone point her to the nearest Earth-embassy? She might need to seek immunity later on if her line of thinking goes uninterrupted.
Please do interrupt her.]
Edited 2016-04-17 03:34 (UTC)
arrival;
Daryl Dixon adapted to life in the apocalypse because his whole life had been about survival. It's been about making sure each day, you take your next breath. He'd never had anything growing up neither. He hunted for his food, lived in shithole after shithole. Everybody's always eyed him like the guy you want to walk ten feet around.
Hell, he didn't blame them half the time. He sure as hell preferred it that way.
Point was though, he was used to living in the apocalypse. He was used to dealing with getting shit on constantly by life, either by walkers or people. Damn if the people weren't shaping to be the worst part of it so far.
But getting dragged off here, faced with stuff he's never even dreamed of before... He has no idea how to even begin processing this shit. Computers and physicals and goddamn contracts that he doesn't want to touch, but doesn't have a choice if he wants to get back to his people, his family.
And Daryl is a survivor in the end. He adapts. He'll have to adapt here, he guesses. Doesn't mean he's not wary. He feels like a caged animal, cornered and caught and no way out.
"The hell am I supposed to do with this thing?" He grumbles, looking down at the MID, wishing he could tear the damn thing out and crush it. Something tells him that wouldn't do jackshit to warm him up to anybody thogh.
observation deck;
Eventually, he finds a place to settle in, probably on the floor as he sits back to marvel at endless stars in front of him. Hell...
He can't believe it. He's in space. He's actually in space with aliens and new planets and... he was never meant for this. He's pretty sure he was never meant to be no astronaut. He wasn't meant to be in some bad Star Trek episode.
He's gotta keep it together, but he's almost at a loss for what to do here.
Daryl ends up curling into himself a little more, drawing a knee to his chest as he brings his hand up, idly chewing on his thumbnail. Nervous habit he's never broken.
mess hall;
One thing he's finding he likes about this place? The food. It doesn't matter if it tastes good or bad, it's more food than he's seen in a long time. He piles his plate full, shovels it into his mouth like a wild animal or a man half-starved. He's using his fingers, pausing every once in a while to lick them clean or to look around at who's near him, if there's anybody he recognizes.
Daryl Dixon adapted to life in the apocalypse because his whole life had been about survival. It's been about making sure each day, you take your next breath. He'd never had anything growing up neither. He hunted for his food, lived in shithole after shithole. Everybody's always eyed him like the guy you want to walk ten feet around.
Hell, he didn't blame them half the time. He sure as hell preferred it that way.
Point was though, he was used to living in the apocalypse. He was used to dealing with getting shit on constantly by life, either by walkers or people. Damn if the people weren't shaping to be the worst part of it so far.
But getting dragged off here, faced with stuff he's never even dreamed of before... He has no idea how to even begin processing this shit. Computers and physicals and goddamn contracts that he doesn't want to touch, but doesn't have a choice if he wants to get back to his people, his family.
And Daryl is a survivor in the end. He adapts. He'll have to adapt here, he guesses. Doesn't mean he's not wary. He feels like a caged animal, cornered and caught and no way out.
"The hell am I supposed to do with this thing?" He grumbles, looking down at the MID, wishing he could tear the damn thing out and crush it. Something tells him that wouldn't do jackshit to warm him up to anybody thogh.
observation deck;
Eventually, he finds a place to settle in, probably on the floor as he sits back to marvel at endless stars in front of him. Hell...
He can't believe it. He's in space. He's actually in space with aliens and new planets and... he was never meant for this. He's pretty sure he was never meant to be no astronaut. He wasn't meant to be in some bad Star Trek episode.
He's gotta keep it together, but he's almost at a loss for what to do here.
Daryl ends up curling into himself a little more, drawing a knee to his chest as he brings his hand up, idly chewing on his thumbnail. Nervous habit he's never broken.
mess hall;
One thing he's finding he likes about this place? The food. It doesn't matter if it tastes good or bad, it's more food than he's seen in a long time. He piles his plate full, shovels it into his mouth like a wild animal or a man half-starved. He's using his fingers, pausing every once in a while to lick them clean or to look around at who's near him, if there's anybody he recognizes.
Observation deck;
[ These stars are different. Sure, okay, she hasn't seen all of the galaxy by a long shot, but she's familiar with most of the inhabited parts, and this is just wrong. Hera has been a pilot long enough to be able to spot it.
Quite apart from the fact that she appears to be all alone here, without her crew, without Kanan.
She frowns out at the stars, arms crossed over her chest, deep in thought. ]
I'd like to wake up now.
Cromia; Hostile droids;
[ Hera has been to many, many planets and moons over the years. She's a pilot, and a member of the nascent Rebel Alliance, so she's been everywhere. Still, a planet full of droids is a new one for her. Regardless, she tries to make friends - right up until one of them lobs what looks like some sort of legume at her head. ]
Hey! What did I ever do to you?
Choose your own adventure;
[ Anywhere on the Moira or the planet is fine! ]
[ These stars are different. Sure, okay, she hasn't seen all of the galaxy by a long shot, but she's familiar with most of the inhabited parts, and this is just wrong. Hera has been a pilot long enough to be able to spot it.
Quite apart from the fact that she appears to be all alone here, without her crew, without Kanan.
She frowns out at the stars, arms crossed over her chest, deep in thought. ]
I'd like to wake up now.
Cromia; Hostile droids;
[ Hera has been to many, many planets and moons over the years. She's a pilot, and a member of the nascent Rebel Alliance, so she's been everywhere. Still, a planet full of droids is a new one for her. Regardless, she tries to make friends - right up until one of them lobs what looks like some sort of legume at her head. ]
Hey! What did I ever do to you?
Choose your own adventure;
[ Anywhere on the Moira or the planet is fine! ]
Starscream | Transformers IDW (the world needs more starscreams okay)
iseedeadbees
2016-04-13 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
Observation Deck:
THE SHORT VERSION: [The deal is this: There's some crankyass robot standing in front of a big window frowning tremendously at his own reflection and occasionally talking to himself. I mean since he's seemingly staring at his own reflection and saying shit like "shut up you're dead you don't get to have an opinion" and "Well it could be worse, I could be stuck on this primitive little mess of a ship and look like you" it might be just a bit odd. How you doin?]
THE LONG VERSION because damn i word'd pardon me: [If there was one good thing that could be said about Starscream's fancy position as the actual for real ruler of Cybertron why not, it's that he's learned that sometimes it's best to just not shoot people that annoy you right off the bat. Hence, between his arrival and now, nothing has died and most things aren't on fire. Sure, there had been a lot of complaining and arguing, but as soon as he realized that it wasn't going to get him anywhere, he threw his hands up and went to find himself a nice place toscheme think. Before too long, he discovered the observation deck. Well heck, observation decks were great spots for scheming self reflection, and thus Starscream's quest for the perfect scheming brooding spot came to an end. It was a pretty anti-climatic quest and it probably involved a lot of trying not to squish any organics, but whatev.
The little crash course he'd gotten about where he was was nice and all, but boy howdy it sure as heck didn't explain why he was here. At least not in any way that he found acceptable. In his mind, someone he'd pissed off over the years had to be responsible, but he was having difficulty pinning down who in theory that might be. He could think of quite a few possible candidates, but even the people who ended up on his short list were more likely to come up with some way to finish him off for good. Just mysteriously space bridging (???) him to some mystery corner of the universe was a little sloppy considering it was well within the realm of possibility that he could eventually find some way to get back to Cybertron. Y'know, maybe. Some day.
Although, if this was Rattrap's doing, Starscream would have to commend him on having the bolts to pull a stunt like this on him in the first place. Right before blasting him through his dumb little rodent spark. Man oh man, that would be great. Buuut anyway, fantasizing about splattering Rattrap would have to wait. Back to the important stuff.
He'd spent the last several hours arguing with that little voice in the back of his head (That one that kind of sounds like Bumblebee, you know the one) over whether or not this should be handled diplomatically or with maybe explosions. On one hand, he was getting pretty good at the whole diplomacy thing and may very well be able to just win over the whole ship and get what he wants that way, but on the other hand, explosions!!! In the end, the voice of reason won out and Starscream opted not to destroy anyone or anything, at least for the time being. When he had a better idea of who was around and what to expect, that very well may change somewhere down the line. But hey, one step at a time.]
Cromia: [Really the only reason Starscream opted to bother visiting the planet at all is because sometimes a jet just needs to spread his wings, okay. Being cooped up on a space ship sucks when you were built for the sky. He's flying around doing idk barrel rolls and shit, and when he's not flying around looking all fancy he's standing around looking all fancy and silently judging the locals like the fancy prick that he is. It's kind of funny when they lob veg at the fleshies, though. He might be inclined to step in and lend some squishy fleshperson a hand if they really need it, but he'd have to be really bored, or in one of his "lets see if I can use this somewhere down the line" kind of moods.]
Wildcard: [do me a yolo you know how this works]
THE SHORT VERSION: [The deal is this: There's some crankyass robot standing in front of a big window frowning tremendously at his own reflection and occasionally talking to himself. I mean since he's seemingly staring at his own reflection and saying shit like "shut up you're dead you don't get to have an opinion" and "Well it could be worse, I could be stuck on this primitive little mess of a ship and look like you" it might be just a bit odd. How you doin?]
THE LONG VERSION because damn i word'd pardon me: [If there was one good thing that could be said about Starscream's fancy position as the actual for real ruler of Cybertron why not, it's that he's learned that sometimes it's best to just not shoot people that annoy you right off the bat. Hence, between his arrival and now, nothing has died and most things aren't on fire. Sure, there had been a lot of complaining and arguing, but as soon as he realized that it wasn't going to get him anywhere, he threw his hands up and went to find himself a nice place to
The little crash course he'd gotten about where he was was nice and all, but boy howdy it sure as heck didn't explain why he was here. At least not in any way that he found acceptable. In his mind, someone he'd pissed off over the years had to be responsible, but he was having difficulty pinning down who in theory that might be. He could think of quite a few possible candidates, but even the people who ended up on his short list were more likely to come up with some way to finish him off for good. Just mysteriously space bridging (???) him to some mystery corner of the universe was a little sloppy considering it was well within the realm of possibility that he could eventually find some way to get back to Cybertron. Y'know, maybe. Some day.
Although, if this was Rattrap's doing, Starscream would have to commend him on having the bolts to pull a stunt like this on him in the first place. Right before blasting him through his dumb little rodent spark. Man oh man, that would be great. Buuut anyway, fantasizing about splattering Rattrap would have to wait. Back to the important stuff.
He'd spent the last several hours arguing with that little voice in the back of his head (That one that kind of sounds like Bumblebee, you know the one) over whether or not this should be handled diplomatically or with maybe explosions. On one hand, he was getting pretty good at the whole diplomacy thing and may very well be able to just win over the whole ship and get what he wants that way, but on the other hand, explosions!!! In the end, the voice of reason won out and Starscream opted not to destroy anyone or anything, at least for the time being. When he had a better idea of who was around and what to expect, that very well may change somewhere down the line. But hey, one step at a time.]
Cromia: [Really the only reason Starscream opted to bother visiting the planet at all is because sometimes a jet just needs to spread his wings, okay. Being cooped up on a space ship sucks when you were built for the sky. He's flying around doing idk barrel rolls and shit, and when he's not flying around looking all fancy he's standing around looking all fancy and silently judging the locals like the fancy prick that he is. It's kind of funny when they lob veg at the fleshies, though. He might be inclined to step in and lend some squishy fleshperson a hand if they really need it, but he'd have to be really bored, or in one of his "lets see if I can use this somewhere down the line" kind of moods.]
Wildcard: [do me a yolo you know how this works]
Edited 2016-04-13 02:47 (UTC)
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