fridgetothefire: (nightwaif)
[Public video]

[Anya doesn't look markedly better than she has in the last two months. She still has her crown of bony protrusions (a few of them now snapped by the recent invaders), messy hair, fading bruises and scrapes, and wan, exhausted features. But her gaze is clear and direct, her expression tight-lipped.]

...normal maintenance services will resume shortly. If there's anything you've been waiting to have fixed, please report it for triage.


[Private to Jean]

I don't know if they're still there after the latest debacle, but Arthas had zombies packed into his cabin like sardines when last I checked. Cleanup, aisle seven, etc.


[Private to Stephen]

Thank you.


[Spam for Morgana]

[She skulks, trembles, hides in a nearby empty cabin, like a mouse at a mousehole, until Morgana comes to her own door. She darts out, left hand closing on Morgana's wrist, nails digging in. Her other hand is full of partly-scrunched pages, torn from wherever they come from, a scribbled bestiary and neat pentacle diagrams and a few leaves that are slightly scorched, that look like ordinary paper but smell like burnt hair at the edges.]

Every key has teeth.


[Spam for Ben]

[She comes to find him, after his shift. It's not the first time she's done it in the last few weeks, but it's the first time without a distinct air of aimless hopelessness or frenetic desperation. She still feels weak, drained, and her hands shake a little when she holds out her arms for him, but her gaze is free and clear.]

Ben.
fridgetothefire: (on the job)
[Public]

Okay, listen up.

If you haven't had a bad port yet, let me clue you in: when the admiral actually gives us supplies, it means we are about to hit a bad fucking port. The last time this happened, we lost somebody. As in, she got trapped in a town full of corpses and nightmares and never made it back. No death toll, no popping up fine in the infirmary. Zev was an amazing woman, who came from terrible circumstances and was bright and compassionate and determined, and she didn't vanish, she got caught by somewhere worse than here. I might not get along with you, or even know you, but there's no one on this ship I want that happening to.

Brass tacks: whatever the admiral is, I personally doubt he's humanoid. [Dryly] You may have noticed, but he's not always great at realizing what we actually need. So here are some things everyone should add to those packs if they can.

cut for length )

The Admiral's made fewer preparations and given us less warning this time around, so let's hope that means it's a proportional response, and we don't have have to worry about the risk of losing anyone like we did in Silent Hill. I hope it's fine, and we'll all be back here bleeding and bitching in a few days. But we can't guarantee it. So whatever happens, wherever we go, take care of yourselves, and take care of each other.



[Private to Morgana]

Tell me what you're missing, and what I need to get you.


[Spam for Dean]

[He's already stabbed someone. On the other hand, he's already stabbed someone, so it's not like it's going to make that much of a difference if he really wants to cause trouble. Or at least that's what she tells herself, rapping on his door.]

Me again.

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fridgetothefire: (Default)
Anya Lehnsherr | Earth 97400

November 2015

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