Jan. 8th, 2017

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Jan. 8th, 2017 07:36 pm
sketchycharacter: (pic#10737513)
[personal profile] sketchycharacter
[Not that he's always Mr. Cheerful regardless of circumstances, but Nate's expression looks a little sad, a little wistful, on the TAB today.]

I know the Ingresses space kidnapped a bunch of new people recently—condolences, by the way—but for those who knew Isha Devan, she...won't be joining us the rest of our journey. To wherever the hell we're going.

[He knows where they're going in theory, but the trip has ground to a halt with what they've found at the midway hub. Nate's not taking part in the diplomatic talks with the Savrii, because seriously who would ever want that.]

But! I guess she had a secret project she didn't tell me about, because she left me this behind as a parting gift.

[The video on the TAB pivots to show a mechanical robot dog that looks very much the style of Q, Isha's dog, but instead of a greyhound, this one is modeled after a German Shepard.]

Things aren't the best right now, I know. Better than right after the crash but still not great. So for anyone who wants to distract themselves with something silly and mostly pointless, I've got a project for you: help me name my dog.

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Jan. 8th, 2017 08:36 pm
tearsinajar: backchat (pic#9907895)
[personal profile] tearsinajar
It occurred to me the other day that I haven't had a chance to write anything, and that's, to me, a little depressing. There's been so much here that's happened, not just to myself and the friends I've made, but to everyone else. To you.

My day job, back home, for those of you who don't know me, it deals with investigative journalism. I write to uncover the truth, to shed light on scenarios that are otherwise dark and bleak.

Since I got here, everything has been nothing but a whirlwind of events. Each month there's been something new; whether it's stopping off at various planets, or it's daily occurrences on the ship. [ RIP Moira. ] There hasn't been time for me to sit down and write it all out.

[ Elena pauses and her eyes drift downward, off to the left. For those who knew about the incident with the Descendants, how she'd walked away from that moment on the ship with her left arm broken and bleeding out where it'd bitten her...she no longer wears a splint and padded cast. There's no visible sling. It's almost as though none of that had ever happened.

An injury as deep as that, bones needed time to mend. They needed a full two months. It's been less than that.

It shows that she's trying to think of how to word what she wants to say next, without giving anything away.
]

I'm interested in writing about abilities. [ Here she looks up, looks directly into the TAB camera. ] I'm interested in learning about them.

If you're comfortable with discussing this, that's great. I'm available for one-on-one meetings, if you would prefer, or you can reach me privately through the messaging system.

Also, if you're interested in learning more about the stories I've done, I won't mind sharing. Ask me anything you'd like.



[ Except you, Flynn. ]