♕ 001 spam/text

[broughtwhiskey]

open spam - anywhere.
[Disoriented is a word for what Philip feels upon waking on the Barge. There's a dull throb of pain in his chest and his head, things he know he should be dead from, and his shirt is still slick with blood. He also recognizes the room he wakes up in with everything where it should be, but he knows it should burned out. The view outside the windows, however, aren't looking out into the streets of Woodbury, but an infinite void. He isn't sure if this is what death is supposed to be like, but he has a feeling it's not because it feels very much alive.]

[He's willing to stay as long as it takes to change and clean the blood off his face, but no longer than that. He doesn't feel particularly keen on lingering in a room with this many reminders right now. Already he's trying hard to not think of what just happened, the large amount of nothing he just left behind once more. He looks for any of his weapons before leaving to find them gone. So perhaps not everything is in its place. But no matter. He can improvise if the situation calls for it.]

[Stepping outside into the hall, he still doesn't know what to make of any of this. but if there's one thing he knows, it's that he needs to get his bearings and so he sets off to learn the layout of wherever the hell he's ended up.]

text.

[Later, after he's had the chance to explore and numerous explanations and perspectives on what this place is, he only has one question:]

How many of you are here?

Comments

private/text

[visetvires]

Define 'us'.

voice

[chaotica]

[ Crisply: ] Thousands.

action whoa on deck maybe

[akweks]

[Connor is on his way somewhere else, because he is always on his way somewhere else. He usually doesn't stop every person he sees to have a chat, even if he's never seen them before. But it's very difficult to ignore people with eyepatches, because that usually means one of two things: disease or a very interesting life.

The former is worrisome on a crowded ship like this, and the latter, well. Connor likes to talk about interesting lives.

He watches this man for a moment, then takes a proverbial stab in the dark.]

Are you lost?

Text

[voluntaryapnea]

About a hundred, give or take on any given day.

text

[punched_hitler]

Just shy of eighty; we've lost a few people recently.

Who's asking?

[Spam]

[tricksandmischief]

[In his exploration, Philip may see a tall man dressed rather peculiarly who is also wandering around. Even though Loki has been here for about a month, he's still looking around as if he thinks he can find something different to what he's already discovered - something like an exit. He eyes the stranger when he sees him, sizing him up. A new face.]

text;

[16thstar]

What exactly do you mean? Inmates? Wardens? All together?

[Spam]

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[Scorpius is fully in the process of moving parts of his lab into Horatio Hornblower's room. The halfbreed alien is delicately carrying some small set of vials when he pauses, and gives a mean little smile at Philip]

And the Barge has decided to grace us with fresh blood today.

Good evening.

spamalamadingdong

[characterdefect]

[Let the record show that Roderick is not drunk. He's been reading, his neck bent and head down, tucked in a corner of the chapel with a short story. He feels a little disoriented and very victorious: it's been a long time since he got lost like that. It almost makes him feel human again.]

[Almost.]

[He bumps into Philip outside the chapel on the way back to his room. If he'd seen him a few minutes ago, covered in blood and gore, he'd have taken to him much more quickly. As it is, he just cocks his head, curious.]

You look fucking bewildered.

[queen_cordelia]

[She's settled in now. It strikes her as strange that her apartment from LA is her cabin, that everything is exactly as she remembers it when she was last there, which is now ages ago, considering the coma. The only thing missing from it is Phantom Dennis, and she misses him a lot. It's probably strange to miss a ghost, but her life isn't exactly normal -- or it hadn't been when she'd been alive anyway.

She runs into him in the hallway, someone she hasn't seen before and he looks kind of disoriented. She offers him a small smile.]

Hi. Are you okay?

voice

[themissingpiece]

Why? Taking a census?

spam.

[semifreakingnormal]

[It's the smell of blood that draws him toward the older man. He's been ignoring his senses less, lately, swallowing all the terrible smells so that he can be more aware of his surroundings.

Mostly so he can be more aware of anyone who might be out to hurt him. That was a rough lesson to learn.

Scott hesitates when he spots the newcomer - though that's not much of a surprise, since the scent under the blood was new.]

Um, hi.

[He's got to work on his introductions. Scott barrels on, lifting one hand in a halfhearted wave.]

Are you....okay?

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[adelphoktonos]

The number changes often.

audio (sorry for lateness)

[strangehistorian]

Around a hundred and thirty, I think!