dreamermoa: (aaaaaaa)
Quark I'm really sorry but I can't come to work today because I'm stuck on the Sub Fleet and someone was shooting at us and we can't turn around or we won't make it to Terabel!

I'm really sorry!
norefunds: (thinking about it)
Who: OPEN
Where: Outside Quark's Bar
When: During the Terabel crisis
Warnings: Opportunism, lol?

If you're passing by Quark's bar today you might notice a small supplementary stall outside with a huge banner declaring in big red letters 'SAVE TERABEL'. In fact, that is primarily what's on all the merchandise being sold at said stall with slight variations on the theme. Drinking mugs sport the message with a pair of silhouetted wings, T-shirts have a big blazing sun with a cross-out symbol slapped over it, and there's even a box accepting 'Save Terabel Donations'.

Quark himself is behind the stall, looking appropriately somber and thanking everyone for their generous efforts.
kingtyrantranger: (Power Sword)
Who: The Red Ranger
Where: Laundromat
When: Late Night, Majo 6th
Warnings: ???

Read more... )

So there he was. Pulling a late night in the laundromat near the low-cost 'temporary' housing he'd yet to move out of. Anyone passing by will be treated to the sight of the Red Ranger, in full costume, folding underwear while apparently waiting for the rest of his laundry to finish up.

It beat sitting around in his boxers.
phaseshifted: (siren ♛ offenses)
[instead of her face, she puts up an image of herself, old but still suitable for now. she'll need to make a new one soon.]

Apparently travelling through dimensions can block out memories. Really important ones, as a matter of fact. I don't know how many people this might have happened to, but it's new information for all of us to keep in mind.

[she pauses, almost ending there but deciding it can't hurt to ask.]

On a different note, if anyone has the capacity to fly and would like someone to come with them when they do, I'd be happy to. I've found it's a lot more enjoyable with friends.
dreamermoa: (is love alive?)
Hi, everybody. [Yay, it's the Moa show! Except not yay, because she has a worried expression on her face. Part of it is that she still seems a little uncomfortable talking to a camera, but there's something else bothering her, too. Something which she will now explain.]

Back when I first got here, over...two months ago, I asked about my friend Rail. If anyone had seen him, or anything. I ended up asking the ship personnel if they could look for him for me, in the...with the people who haven't woken up yet. [A pause, and her eyes drop.]

They said...that they couldn't find him - but - but that maybe he'd just been overlooked because there's a lot of people still asleep. [The last part spills out of her mouth like if she says it fast enough it'll erase the idea of not being able to find him.]

I told everyone that I'd...um...[And now she slows back down, because suddenly this feels like a really awkward thing to post over the network.] That I'd, you know, tell you what I found out about the people still sleeping and stuff, so...that's why I'm telling everyone now. Okay.

[Yep, awkward. She stares at the camera for a few moments, chewing her lip uncertainly, before just turning it off. Click!]
cannibalgourmet: (smile)
[It didn't take long for Hannibal to figure out the network on his tablet. By now he had explored part of the city, and he's ready to find a job like Graham Baker recommended him. Not having had the chance to meet Pinoko yet, he decides to take advantage of the communication system here.]

Good afternoon, my name is Hannibal Lecter, and I recently arrived to the city. I was told in the briefing about the necessity of getting a job. My abilities lie in the medical field, and he suggested I contact Ms. Pinoko to see what kind of training I would need to take to be able to start working. I can only hope she will see this message.

Additionally, once I'm cleared to work as a doctor, I will be offering you my services as a psychiatrist. If you feel therapy would help you with any problems you have, feel free to contact me. I will do what is in my hands to help you.

[He smiles briefly, nods as a farewell and then turns off the feed.]
Anyone with a drone gets a deedlit-deedlit-deedlit alert on their comm devices. It's a video post with a rather harried-looking Ensign Navarro. His eyebrows are missing and his hair is much more closely cropped than before. The area behind him is swarming with activity as a flaming figure does battle with a muck-covered monster.

"Ensign Navarro here. So, we were going to do this a while ago, but discovered a flaw that needed hammering out. The good news is this: We finally upgraded our drone technology. The bad news: The upgrades we were going to use melted right off. And caught fire. And it turns out the rest of the upgrades were just as flammable if you added the right chemicals to the mix." He coughs. "But, like I said, we've managed some improved functionality. If you'll pardon the projection..."

He taps a few things on his end and a complex display and readout appear. "We've increased the battery span on the drones. We're making strides for kinetic charging, something we'd tried for on the old Tyr mobile armors but which, unfortunately, turned out to be too expensive. We phased those out for the Teslated microgenerators we now use, but I was always a fan of the idea of someone powering their equipment by moving. So we're working on miniaturizing it. It might be ready in a model or two. In any case, with the battery improvements, we've enhanced recharge time and allowed for more power output. So now you shouldn't be so, ah. Noodly." Yes. "We've also added some actual connection points, so you guys can start designing outer shells if you want. Make them look a bit like you."

He flicks a dial and various armored plates skitter over the display surface. "You might want to keep in mind that, when making these things, they're still not 100% designed for an outer layer. So if you're making an outer shell of some kind, make sure you've got joint room. We'll be fixing this in future models."

"Finally, we've managed to fix the paper plate problem. Some of us wanted to use a vid-screen to allow you guys to get your faces across, but. Well. Honestly, after watching how some of you interact with each other, I'm not sure that those vid screens would remain intact for long. So we built in some holo displays!" He reaches offscreen and plonks a drone's head onto the table in front of him. Wiping off some flame retardant foam, the Ensign smacked it on top of the head with a fist and the blank face began to project another human face, this one contorted in pain. "Um. Ignore that. We were trying for some haptic feedback and, well. Let's just say it's going back to the drawing board. But in any case, the holos are pretty primitive. We can't quite make it replicate your current expressions, it draws on too many resources to translate your impulses into expressions, but you can manually take a 'snapshot' and update it whenever you want an expression change. Like, uh." He waves a hand over the face and it goes of one contorted to pain to a default blank. He waves it the other way and it goes back into a different pained expression. "They're not solid holograms, they don't provide instant 'updates', but we can get the lips to move when they talk! And we think we're pretty close to a breakthrough on the whole 'Entire face moves just like yours does' gig."

He shoves the drone's head off the table and drums his hands on its surface. "So, there you have it! Not our proudest production, I'll admit, but we're finally back on track with getting you guys the comfort and versatility you deserve. Maybe in a week or two we'll have something more substantial to give you, but for now we'll need you guys to help us out and provide feedback so future drones will be superior. If you've got any questions, ask now." Navarro grins expectantly, only flinching a little at the sound of the flaming body in the background pulling the arms off of the slimy one and beating the body with them.
dreamermoa: (is love alive?)
Hi, everyone. I heard that there were...like....space-gangsters or something on Sharef. So...I hope everyone is okay. [She looks a little uncomfortable. She does honestly hope everyone is okay, but she wants to talk about something else, too. But is it appropriate to talk about it, when people might not be okay? She'll just have to forge onward with it. :|b ]

I was kind of hoping someone could give me advice. When we got here, we were told something about getting a job? And - I don't mind working! I'd like to work! But...I don't have any experience, or any skills. I don't really know what I could do.

[The worry is clear on her face.] We were told that we had two months to find something to do, and it's already been a month already. I have to find a job.
norefunds: (bar tending)
[Quark's been gone for a bit on the excursion to the Eye of Sharef, but he's back now and he's standing in front of a shiny new sign with his name on it.]

Despite some.... setbacks- [He clears his throat and unconsciously prods at the plaster over his broad nose.] -Quark's is finally open for business.

We've got games of chance and skill, [The camera pans to the shiny new game tables and wheels.]

Good food and drink, [And now to the bar top stacked with bottles and glasses of all sizes.]

Not to mention, good company, [Quark waggles an eyebrow at that one.]

And 'karaoke' two nights a week.

If you happen to be of the robotic persuasion you'll have to use a holo avatar to mingle, but I do have energon on tap and 'engex' is forthcoming.
Who: Everyone who signed up for it!
Where: The Eye of Sharef space trading hub
When: 24th of Februaro

Read more... )

[Okay, and cut to the action! A few dozen space bikers have just slammed through the walls of the station and have taken over! Auto-repair systems will keep the station from becoming a vacuum, but on-station security can't handle these horrible hellions!

How screwed are you? Are you more than screwed? Are you even capable of fighting back? We don't mind if you take control of some of the NPCs now. Protect some, party with the bikers, fight, whatever. But keep in mind that some of them may be mod controlled! If you've got a specific thread you want mod-controlled NPCs to barge on in, please make a note of it. Likewise if you've got something in mind and don't want us to ruin your carefully-laid out plans.
]
gimmicky: (Please Explain)
 [Hello Cruxians.

Have this extremely awkward robot on your screen, broadcasting live from the hangar. Seems like after the briefing, he's mostly been keeping to his robot 'buddies' (spoilers: getting your robot soul ripped out kinda sucks). But it seems like now he's ready to reach out to you all. In an attempt to make friendly!

And you guys don't wear stupid hats like Rodimus says.

Huh. Shows what he knows.]


Uh...hey everyone! Just wanted to throw up that if anyone needs to get to and from opposite sides of this place, I'm willing to lend some wheels whenever I'm not busy doing something.

[Basically, he can be your taxi.]

I'm not the fastest thing on wheels, but probably better than tiny human feet.


No offense.

[A+ friendship making skills]

So....thanks! For listening, I mean.
shitflashpointsays: (talking: neutral)
[ This little adventure? Not exactly the vacation of a lifetime. Flashpoint's never missed her flask of engex more than now. She needs a drink, or she's gonna start rubbing the enamel clean off her faceplates. Sharing hangar number-why-do-they-need-this-many-hangars with Deadlock hasn't exactly encouraged peace-of-mind inducing solid recharge. Two extremely long weeks later she's finally got her own place though, and HELL YES the fabricators sure do make energon as well as organic food. There's just one critical problem. ]

[ They don't make booze. Apparently engex was not high on the engineering staff's list of quality of life enhancements for Cybertronians. Well, frag that. She'll just make her own. Uh. Somehow... ]

So. My people subsist on energon and the oh-so-kind engineers here have programmed the fabricators to make it but...

Mmmm...

I'm hoping to modify the formula. A little variety shall we say? Increased, uh, 'potency' most definitely.

[ Hopefully with inebriating effects. Hey, no one said it wasn't legal! Right? ]

Not a scientist though. Anyone give me a hand?

[ Yes, she really is asking for help making moonshine. ]

[And if this broadcast had fine print it would read 'proceed at your own risk; energon has explosive tendencies' but fine print means caution and caution + Flashpoint aren't exactly a common package deal.]
norefunds: (charming)
[Quark is addressing the general communicator crowd with an eager grin and a freshly pressed suit.]

Listen up! I'm assuming a fair number of you around here still need jobs? Well, guess what? Today is your lucky day. I'm hiring employees to work in the new bar slash casino I will be opening up in the entertainment sector.

'But Quark, we already have bars and casinos,' you say? True. But what we don't have is a combination bar casino that offers games and drinks from my corner of the Universe. If you're bored of poker or pool or whatever else humons play around here- I highly recommend some of the ones I'll be running. I'm also knowledgeable of plenty of mixed drinks that don't exist here yet.

Sound good? Great. I need waiters, dabo girls, bartenders, and bouncers. Hit up my communicator with some qualifications and I'll see what I can do for you.
thepoweroflove: (Default)
[Hey, remember that dumb kid who acted all fine soon after arriving here because "haha, I'm obviously dreaming. There's no way I can just randomly end up in space for no understandable reason!"? Yeah, he's starting to realize that he feels very awake right now.

And so here he is looking scared and barely keeping himself from freaking out right now.]

I... I'm not dreaming, am I?

[It's more of a rhetorical question and possibly a cry for help, but feel free to crush him even harder by directly answering that question.]
crux_mods: (Default)
Whatever your activities before, they're interrupted by a sudden lurching feeling, like someone's put a hook into the pit of your very being and yanked. There's a brief burst, a brilliantly twisting tunnel? And then silence. Stars fill your vision, along with bodies, machines, and not much else before everything mercifully goes black. The shock of it, more than the lack of air.

And then, there's sound. There's not much at first. Beeping. Lots of beeping. Some of it is irritatingly loud, and apparently it's the cause of a lot of excitement. When vision returns, the first thing to note would be alien writing blinking in your field of vision, displayed on a monitor or a clear bubble somewhere. Alien, but familiar enough for you to read "Awakening". Whatever that means, you're apparently not alone, as people in black and white uniforms are rushing through the large room you're in, the room filled with people hooked up to all kinds of machines. Of course, some of them don't look entirely like people.

All of a sudden, a haggered face fills your field of vision. "Great Shades of Elvis! Another one! Look, please remain calm." The poor nurse turns and starts to fiddle with some of the machines surrounding you. "There's been an accident, but you're okay. Try to stay quiet and don't disturb the other patients. Someone will be with you in a moment." They turn away to shout across the room, as if that wouldn't disturb anyone. "Hoi, Oglaf! Mark this one as alive so Security can take them for the briefing!" He gestures at some official looking people in red and black uniforms assisting other patients into wheelchairs. "Just flag one of them down, they'll take you to the briefing. We'll explain everything. Just don't panic, you're in good hands." He grins and pats your shin. "Welcome to the Fleet, eh? 'scume, someone else is starting to budge and I gotta make sure it's not some poor sot swallowed his tongue again." With that, he leaves you alone with your thoughts and the bright lights.

[Medical Arrival | Hangar Arrival | Briefing | Post-Briefing 1 | Post-Briefing 2]
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