you're riding with me.

[seeingyou]

WHO: OPEN to all passengers.
WHAT: General mingle log for the first part of the month, including new partner pairing stuff.
WHERE: Navi, all over.
WHEN: Now until the next event (Dec. 6-19).
WARNINGS: If things get messy and/or upsetting, please put warnings in your comment subject lines! And if you absolutely can't keep from strangling your new partner, please report it on the death page.

Hello, passengers! Today begins just like normal, but it’s far from an ordinary day. On this fine point in space-time, passengers will notice a little something different when it comes to the glyphs marked on the backs of their hands.

They're glowing. The light is a deep shade of blue, and it's slowly blinking on and off. Maybe it's searching for something? It's entirely possible, because affected passengers will also feel a gentle tugging sensation that stops once they've come face to face with their partners. The glyph will switch to glowing a steady blue once partners are synced with each other, and they'll be able to communicate telepathically with each other, too.

Have fun getting to know each other a little better! Or, you know. Yelling at each other. Just try to keep the murder to a minimum, OK?

Comments

Alex Reagan | The Black Tapes Podcast | OTA

[11calls]

Like Alex Reagan has done every day that they’ve been aboard, she just ignores everyone in that sleepy, blurry way that one has when there is too much blood in their caffeine supply. Given the strength of the coffee aboard, that’s even more true than normal for Alex and it was bad enough even before this supercharged stuff took over her body. God she was screwed when she ended up back home and had to deal with regular old normal coffee. (And everything else. There was also that too. One couldn’t forget the whole world ending thing. Or the demons. Or the nightmares.)

But once Alex has had the first sip of her morning coffee (morning coffee preparations are different for her than mid morning ones, which are different from lunch and afternoon and evening ones. Yes, she drinks coffee that much.) black with enough sugar to make a small child turn their nose up at it, she notices it. The light on her glyph that had been dead for months at this point is suddenly glowing. Blinking at it for a moment, Alex just pokes it lightly to see if it’s a mistake. But no it’s still glowing.

Wondering if Martin has somehow reappeared, Alex picks up the overly large size coffee and follows the gentle tug of her glyph drinking the whole way. If someone stops her, she talks to them of course because she is Alex, but she’s still looking for Martin with relief, because who else could it be.

[Feel free to stop her in the halls if you would like too! ]

[albatrossomen]

What constitutes morning when floating out in the endless void of space? Murmur barely had a concept of time before all of this, so simply followed whatever rhythms the mortals set for themselves. For whatever reason they seemed to synch up, which was beneficial in keeping track of them. Them and their sleep patterns, which before the dreams weren't of particular interest to him. That, too, had changed.

He was on his way to make some tea when he encountered Alex in the hall, catching the scent of her extra-sweetened space coffee. Now, thinking about it, today might be a good day for that instead.

"It appears today is shuffling day," He remarked casually, nodding toward her gently blinking glyph. His own link with Emet-Selch had disconnected, though he still sensed the dark presence on board. He wasn't gone, which was something of a relief.

[11calls]

There’s something soft in Alex when she sees that his glyph is blinking too, and any sort of hope that she was going to find Martin evaporates with that familiar pulsing. “Oh.” The word is soft but comes along with a nod. “I guess that makes sense then. I thought Martin was back. But I guess at least Jon is home with him now.” For whatever it was worth given that whole timey whiminess of it.

“I guess that means the two of us aren’t a match though.” Then curiously because of course Alex is Alex and she needs to ask the question: “is there anyone that you’re hoping that it is or isn’t?”

[albatrossomen]

"Yet another departed?" He frowned faintly. "That makes a few of late." While he didn't make a habit of keeping close tabs on their shipmates, he was ever faintly aware of their various essences aboard kn such close quarters, and found it gradually emptier. "Martin was your partner I take it? And Jon a friend of his?" Well, at least they had each other again.

He did glance down at his glyph again, no she was the wrong direction from the tugging which he was currently ignoring for now. He'll go find his new partner eventually. "I cannot say I was hoping for a change, my previous partner and I were a rather effective match I had thought. Whatever mechanism it is that determines suitability does not seem to care about that, however." Julia wouldn't be a bad choice, she knew what he was and wasn't bothered by it. He glanced back to her. "What about yourself, any hopefuls?"

[11calls]

“Yeah. They were partners, at least where Martin was from. Or when, rather. The multiverse and all that.” It’s clear when Alex says partners that what she means is romantic partners, which is the reason that she’s glad for them being back where they both belong at least. The last thing she would want is to be here without her partner if she had. Even being here without Strand and Nic is definitely weird enough—even if some of the weirdness of the whole thing had worn off after being here for the last few months.

“I’m sorry that your partnership got changed though. I wonder why they’re changing up things that work. You’d think it would make more sense that they would keep together people who actually got on and stuff.” There’s more than a bit of puzzlement in Alex’s voice and she is experiencing a very different pull in her gut. This one is the drive to investigate things like this more deeply.

“I don’t have a preference honestly. Either way, it’s weird to have someone in your head no matter how much you may like them or not.”

[albatrossomen]

"Indeed, the multiverse issue does complicate matters," He doesn't catch it. Not due to any prejudice of any kind, but simply because he hadn't caught on to the terms for such things humans were using these days. Nor did he fully comprehend the importance they put on such things, so it was typical those conversations tended to go over his head. He could detect an importance in the word, but the reason why perplexed him, and that, despite his usual monotone, may have come through in his expression. Mild confusion. "Let us hope the best for them in their endeavors."

At least they were presumably home, right?

"Perhaps conflict resolution is a superior power source compared to general cooperation?" That's one hypothesis. "Or perhaps because so many have been whisked away once more. It could simply be a staffing issue."

He nodded, letting out a quiet sound of amusement. While when he spoke he did seem oddly unemotive there were times small pieces broke through, and they didn't necessarily seem faked. Though the pieces also didn't seem to quite fit. "True, a bit strange. At least they cannot press in beyond a level of communication. Though I must say that problem with the dreaming was deeply unpleasant."

[11calls]

Alex just shivers at the mention of the dream; she can’t help it. Her nightmares back home were always something else entirely—they hadn’t been particularly great her entire life but the ones over the last two years had been increasingly horrific and sharp.

And now with the dreams, they had felt familiar without the illusion of safety.

“I guess,” Alex tries to smile even though her face is definitely pale in the way that makes both her freckles and the bags under her eyes stand out. “When you’re living in a living ship there’s bound to be some sort of like side effects or something.”

[aparticularlyhollowlaugh]

Today is not Jon’s best day ever. He’s awakened (has he?) from a coma (or is he dead?) to an unfamiliar voice in his head and his surroundings very much not like anything he remembers. So that’s fun. In fact, Jon isn’t even sure he and the others stopped the Unknowing after all - perhaps this is how the world has been reshaped in the Stranger’s weird and horrible ways?

Maybe not. There are no mannequins to be found, as far as Jon can tell.

At some point, Alex will encounter one very disorientated Archivist wandering through the ship, clothed in hospital garb, oblivious to the blinking glyph on his hand. He looks awful; despite the months he’s spent comatose, he looks like he hasn’t slept in ages, and he’s only able to stay upright by bracing himself against the wall of the corridors with his arm.

[11calls]

Alex’s path to finding her new partner seemed like it was entirely random until she found herself in the hallway facing a familiar person. A familiar person who she knew had left recently. But even after being kidnapped, Jon didn’t look as bad as he looked now. She couldn’t help but to think of how much he looked like death warmed over.

Coming up to him, and being close enough to reach out and grab him if he falls, but not touching him yet, concern overrides everything else for her and she doesn’t even notice that the tug in her stomach is now stationary. The concern laces through her face when she can’t help but to ask: “Jon? Are you okay? What happened?”

[aparticularlyhollowlaugh]

Well ... that's unexpected. An unfamiliar voice with a Canadian accent, calling him by name. Jon leans back against the wall for support and squints at her, confused; his brain's still slightly fogged, and he doesn't recognize her at all.

"Yes - yes, I'm ... I'm sorry, Miss ... ? Erm, have we met?"

[11calls]

“Reagan. But just Alex please. That’s what everyone calls me.” Alex gives him a confused smile and she just takes a deep breath for a moment before looking around. “You don’t remember being here before.” It’s not a question because he clearly doesn’t.

But Alex looks to him and offers him a hand. “Come on, let’s get you some place where you can sit down and get you something else to wear and some tea. There’s a lot to explain and tea normally helps I think.” At least when it comes to Strand anyway. She doesn’t mean to draw a parallel between them but considering what she knew from Martin it seems like a safe bet.

[relance]

Julia Bellamy has been uncharacteristically quiet over the last few days. It’s weird when there’s someone in your head and then suddenly that someone is gone. It’s an all too familiar feeling in her gut: abandonment. Julia’s abandonment issues tend to run fairly deep like an empty well within her. While knowing that she should have reported it to the network and taken Isaac from her list, Julia didn’t. Instead what she tried to do was to fill that deep well up with booze. It takes a lot for her to get drunk thanks to that whole werewolf metabolism thing so when hers isn’t enough to do a suitable job for long enough, she goes to Isaac’s cabin and raids his booze as well.

Isaac was her partner; as far as Julia is concerned what had been his now belongs to her. That’s the only good thing about this whole fucking situation in her opinion.

When she finally ventures out of her stupor, Julia kind of looks like hell. Her hair is a greasy, knotted mess at the top of her head and her eyes have a glint in them that’s far more animalistic than human. When she gets to the kitchen, Julia just growls. “Move.”

[ancestor]

Azem has been an elusive addition to the ship in the weeks since her arrival, largely remaining in her quarters or, more recently, wandering alongside Emet-Selch, obscured by the cowl of her robes and the mask on her face. Today marks the first time she's ventured out on her own, and while she does still wear her mask and robes she decides to leave her cowl down as she leans on the counter, watching her coffee drip, drip, drip painfully slowly.

The growled demand earns a brief, disinterested glance from the corner of her eye and nothing more.

"No."

[relance]

Someone else might have been intimidated by the armor and the glowing but this Julia Bellamy who told an actual god to stop being such a fucking dick. She’s not intimidated by anyone. More than that, Julia is spoiling for a fight. She’d missed the one to get Jon back because she’d been unfortunately turned into a child herself so this is seeming like an opportunity.

“Now.” The growl in her voice is definitely more menacing and animalistic—it’s coming from a set of vocal cords that are decidedly inhuman. There’s a flashing in her eyes as Julia’s pupils extend downward, becoming more animalistic in her blue eyes.

“I won’t tell you again.”

[ancestor]

Inhuman was something she had long since grown accustomed to. Hearing it here and now is curious, though hardly intimidating.

"Good." She rolls her eyes, willing her coffee to brew more quickly. "Now you can go tell someone who might give a shite."

[relance]

Julia is just getting more angry now. If she was in wolf form, her lips would be curled back in a snarl. At the moment her lips are almost doing the same thing giving a harshness to her pretty face. It’s a sneer of anger, and it’s definitely dancing along her skin as she just moves forward to attempt to hip check the woman.

[ancestor]

The woman will find her hip check ineffective, rebounding off a shimmering shield of energy only visible once made contact with. Azem's response is another roll of her eyes as she sets about pouring herself a mug of her finally finished coffee, then flavouring it with cream and sugar she creates from thin air.

She takes a long sip of her coffee, paying it far more mind in a single moment than she has to the other woman during the entirety of their encounter.

"If I throw you a bone will you stop being a nuisance, or is this just an oh-so-charming personality trait of yours?"

[betterhavemammoney]

As far as Mammon is concerned it is an early morning like any other. He isn't considering the fact that he feels less aware of Shaun than before. Maybe that's general grogginess -- he feels a little slower as he sits up in bed, ignoring the glyph flashing blue on his hand. He could worry about that later, once he'd woken up fully and eased into his day.

Upon rising he reaches to pull on his clothes before realizing that they need a good wash. With a sigh, he switches to his demonic form for coverage and gathers his outfit up in a bundle. At least you didn't have to pay for the washing machines here, laundromats were such a rip-off. (Note to self: look into setting up a laundromat back in the Devildom.) Navi was a good vacation, all things considered. It gets boring here at times, but he can't complain too much.

"Outta my way," he murmurs as he beelines toward the laundry area, eyes fixed on an empty washing machine. "This is all mine."

Maybe he'll get a snack from the kitchen, he thinks as he chucks his clothes in the washing machine and sprinkles some soap on them. He wasn't a completely terrible cook, he could whip up something half-decent. What was it with people around here shirking off their cooking duties, anyway?

[sinkthe8ball]

Having had the time to get used to being an unwilling passenger, mostly (does one ever get used to that?), Lady tries to treat it like any other morning. Which consists mostly of double-checking her weapons squirreled away in her closet. Some would call the action paranoid, but she considers it a necessary task. She doesn’t question any of the other passengers on their daily rituals anyway and hers is completed in the privacy of her room.

What she doesn’t do is check her right hand for any changes that were talking about in that weird message when she woke up. It’s been long enough with no change anyway that the glyph is farther from her mind than just getting started with her day. Which after considering how long she’s been wearing the same outfit is probably going to consist of her wandering in a towel while she waits for the laundry to be done.

She’s just not counting on having a white-haired loudmouth practically running her down to beat her to the washing machine. Talk about rude, but at least he didn’t bowl her over and send her clothes flying. There was that small mercy. She doesn’t stomp exactly, but there is a determined way as she approaches her red combats boots coming to a halt when she reaches the door.

Lady can be surprisingly fast for a human her dirty clothes forgotten as she closes the distance between her and the demon before the knife from her boot held to his throat. “Don’t move demon.”

[betterhavemammoney]

Wait, what was this? Is that a knife? Is someone trying to mug him? For what, the washing machine? "I was here first!" he says indignantly. Sure, he might have gotten there by pushing past others, but he had claimed the machine.

He grabs for her hand, intending to pry her fingers open and make her drop the knife. "What're ya gonna do, stab me for the washer?"

[sinkthe8ball]

Yes, it's a knife. That's usually something basic enough for most demons to know. Snorting Lady shakes her head at his claim over the washing machine. Please like that was the only problem here.

"I wouldn't if I were you." Oh no she's not having any of that. She shifts her hand in so the blade presses more firmly into his skin. Under normal circumstances things wouldn't have gotten even this far she would have just blasted him, but her guns are still in her room. Pity too. "Stabbing you for being a demon isn't reason enough?"

[betterhavemammoney]

He knows perfectly well what a knife is, what he doesn't know is why one is at his throat when all he wanted was to wash his jeans. Rarely does basic cleaning result in punishment, in Mammon's experience.

"Or what?" Well, now he's doubling down and pulling on her hand even harder, pulling her forward against his back so he can better control her movement. "Ya don't even know who you're messin' with, do ya?"

[sinkthe8ball]

It probably doesn't result in punishment. But is very focused on wiping out all of demonkind. Call it a pet project of hers that she's been working on for the last ten years.

If he wants her closer that's fine. She presses her other hand onto his shoulder and jumps wrapping her legs around his torso ignoring the scrapes of pain along her skin from his wings. She's had worse but this position does give her more room to fight back in keeping the knife in place. "Knowing what you are is enough for me."

jack } for emet

[sisterswitch]

That feeling of being tugged toward someone, though slight, is still a little jarring for Jack. She's gotten used to the quiet in her head since Jane disappeared, so the sudden search mode sensation upsets her balance for a moment, but only for that moment. She remembers from the last time what she's supposed to do, and she has no reason to refuse or stall. These connections help Navi, after all, and helping Navi is in the interest of the collective good.

So she quietly slips out of her cabin and makes her way to the observation room, guided by the glyph on her hand. The room appears deserted when she arrives, which is a little confusing, but on further investigation, she finds Emet asleep on a high-up ledge. Aha.

Waking him up would be rather rude - Jack doesn’t enjoy being shaken from sleep, and she certainly wouldn’t want to do that to her soon-to-be-synced partner. It’s not like she has anything pressing to do right now, so she might as well just wait for Emet to wake on his own. She stretches out lazily across a couple of the chairs and watches the scenery of space until it becomes clear that Emet is conscious. Then, she greets him with a simple “Morning, sunshine.”

[unnecessaryflourishes]

Fortunately, she doesn't have particularly long before Emet stirs, taking a moment to stretch before he climbs up to his feet from where he'd been resting against the wall of the ledge. (The question of whether or not he'd fallen asleep before noticing the gentle tugging or after is not something he means to mention.) He does, however, notice it once he awakes, and judging by the brief flicker of annoyance that crosses his face, he's not entirely thrilled about the idea. Still, he's hardly about to spend too much time grumbling about it either. Not when there is something else to focus on instead.

"Is it morning?"

He's not unaware of the more colloquial sort of use. But that doesn't mean he's not going to spend a moment being mildly pedantic either.