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following the footsteps of a rag doll dance, we are entranced ...
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 (Oct. 3-17).
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?
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 (Oct. 3-17).
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?
good with prose or brackets! hit with whichever and I'll respond in kind
[Trevor is in good shape, but this much running is really not something he's used to. He's already out of breath when he arrives at the beach, pausing to look but not spotting any other path of retreat but the frankly terrifying building he'd found himself in when he'd woken up two weeks earlier, a building which is making all kinds of noise, and retracting that metal ramp, like a--
--like a ship. A strange ship made entirely of metal and GOD this is probably some weird occult vampire magic/technology hybrid and he's going to have regrets but he's definitely not staying here with the hell waiting behind him. So off he goes again, bolting full-speed for that retreating gangplank, waving his arms frantically and calling out:]
Wait!! Don't leave me here, I'm not even supposed to be here--
[ii. be pre-peared (Oct. 3, for Max but open to others to run into along the way!)]
[Trevor's spent most of his time in his cabin, trying to process everything he's heard, trying to figure out what the hell that strange box beeping at him from the table in his room is, what it does, trying to figure out where he is and how he can get back to Sypha and Alucard--and who ever thought he'd be trying to get back to Dracula's castle?? It's completely mad--but on this particular morning, he wakes up with that odd tattoo on his hand glowing.
He'd be more concerned if he hadn't seen magic sigils before, and honestly after the last few weeks, he's more curious and starved for some sort of action, so Trevor does what is perhaps a stupid thing: he follows that tugging. Slowly, wandering through the ship, with his arm held all the way out like a dowsing rod, turning slowly at corners and doors. In fact, he's got his eyes closed for half the trip so he can better focus on that tugging feeling, which means crewmates are just as likely to find themselves groped or smacked as they are greeted. Sorry about that, and about him.]
[iii. a new routine (Oct. 4-planetfall, OTA)]
[Living on a ship in space is weird as hell, but honestly, he's survived weirder. At least there are no monsters, just a bunch of other humans (or at least things that look like humans). There's nothing trying to eat him, no inbred farmers with torches and pitchforks, and...well, honestly he's bored out of his mind. Which is why most days he's just trying to find something to occupy his time.
Trevor tends to be awake startlingly early, and you can find him from early morning until roughly noon in the gym, either trying to figure out how the treadmills work (a hilarious sight, honestly), lifting weights or doing some basic floor exercises, or practicing throwing knives or using his whip to disarm the training dummy of various threatening utensils he's "borrowed" from the kitchen and tied to its wrist with string. He'll respond positively to offers or invitations to spar, and possibly a bit negatively to suggestions to bathe or wash his clothes, even if they're well-earned.
After working off some energy trying to stay in form, it's off to the kitchen to eat whatever's been left out for crew (thank you, Clara, you genuine saint), then wandering the halls fiddling with his useless communicator or back to the exercise room.
Nights, and some rare days, one can also find him laying on his back in the observation room close to the glass, arms crossed under his head as he just...looks. There's so many stars up there, and he's distracted enough that people can probably sneak up on him, but don't be offended if his first impulse is still to reach for a weapon when surprised.]
II
"Ah, so you're what I've been trying to find. At least, according to this-" and he'll hold up his hand which has started to flutter a little more rapidly. Clearly something is happening.
"Any idea what this is about?"
no subject
Any ideas? Well, he might have one or two. "Some kind of spell?" Look, this is just the world he's from. He's doing his best.
III
Which made it quite easy to quickly lose sense of anything resembling a schedule, particularly when one didn't require sleep. As such Murmur could be found out and about at really any hour, moving about the ship near silently. One of his favorite haunts was definitely the observation deck. Just staring out into the deep inky void of space, wondering how many worlds were out there among the innumerable stars.
Finding company there wasn't entirely unexpected, it was probably one of the best spots on the ship after all, but he had to wonder what the purpose of falling asleep there was. Weren't the beds in their quarters more comfortable? No matter, it wasn't his place to go ushering the mortals around like lost lambs. Trevor's being there wasn't going to stop him also looking out the window after all. So Murmur came to stand not... terribly close, out of immediate swinging range at the very least, but still probably a little too close for comfort for someone just to. Loom. Creepily.
no subject
No beer, which honestly may have been the worst part of all.
And now, there's no more solitude. Trevor's brow creases as a figure steps into view, ignoring him in favor of the stars outside, and it's a frown that only deepens as the other crew member shows no sign of moving. Finally, he sighs heavily, lifting a hand from under his head to gesture.
"Do you mind? Take two steps to your right, you're blocking my view." Look, it's almost polite. An achievement for Trevor.
no subject
Clearly Trevor will need to rectify the lack of alcohol on their next landing.
"Hm?" Murmur glanced down, as though he'd only just noticed Trevor was there acting as a road block. "My apologies." He offered in the flattest monotone one might easily mistake him for being sarcastic, save for the fact that he did shuffle away those couple steps as requested. Maybe he hadn't noticed? Maybe he was just really weird. "Is it not more comfortable to sleep in a bed?"
no subject
Speaking of weird--that response. Or at least the way it was offered. Reminded him a little of Alucard, though it wasn't quite as sharp-edged. Trevor squints up at him a little suspiciously at the question, not quite sure if he should take that as sarcasm or not. "I've slept on worse," he answers, almost begrudgingly. "At least it's not cold, wet, or rocky. But I'm not sleeping, anyway. Just came up to look out there." Here he gestures with his chin towards the window, and everything outside it.
no subject
If it was, Murmur wasn't watching him for a reaction so he'd certainly have missed out on the fun of being sarcastic. "That does sound more unpleasant than the floor," He agrees. And, well, Trevor wasn't exactly in the way. Wasn't like this area was high traffic, so he could probably safely stay. Ah, well, that is something they can both agree is worth watching. Murmur reached out to briefly set a gloved hand on the glass. "Remarkable, isn't it? Seeing it up close like this. Relatively speaking anyway." The key difference being the lack of an atmosphere between them and the stars beyond. Creation truly was beautiful. "You have good taste, this is the best view on the ship."
III
The real problem is he still keeps Jon Hours (tm), so he's in the kitchen at odd hours trying to eat. Except this time there is someone else there.]
Oh. Um. Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt.
II
Accordingly, when someone quite literally smacks their hand into him, he is not in the least bit amused.]
Was there something you wanted?
[Even with Trevor's eyes closed, there's likely no mistaking the tone of disapproval in Emet-Selch's voice, nor the faint impression that he might be looking down his nose at Trevor.]