text - sent in the middle of the night of 14th

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

security help needed at observation deck. come quick

theres a fight. one is dressed in black and orange and is armed with
discs and ddddsss


[The message ends there and after that J can't be reached-- leaving it unclear why she decided to send such incomplete version of it on the public network.]

[ooc: J won't be answering to this post, but feel free to tag your character's reactions to here!]

Comments

audio

[beautifulspaceraptor]

Get to a safe spot, I'll be arriving shortly.

[He's not sure if it got through, but he hopes it did and he hopes he gets there in time.]

audio »

[higginsdrive]

[ Fuck.

Well, this was right up her alley for her job on this ship. Something about keeping the peace and fights in closed environments don't tend to end well for anyone.

Her tone is clipped and clearly pissed - she almost doesn't respond, but the response wasn't for the sender. She was hoping others would pick it up as well so they'd know there was other help on the way. Help that wasn't in the mood for bullshit. ]

I'm on my way.

text

[notyoursupergirl]

[Sent hours later, early morning ]

Hey, you okay?

Text

[ersatzeverything]

[Deacon keeps a pretty nocturnal schedule, so he's awake when the MID text comes in. This kind of security work is not technically his job, but like hell can he just keep sitting and reading while someone's calling for help.]

Take cover, get out of there if you can.

[If official security gets there first, good. He'll leave it to them and get out of there way. But if he gets there before anyone else does, he'll do what he can to help out until someone more qualified arrives.]

AUDIO

[squadgoals]

[A moment after Nihlus':]

On my way. Keep yourself hidden.

not here;

[skelepun]

[Something's wrong about this. J should have been back ages ago. Not that Sans kept careful tabs on her whereabouts -- not most of the time, anyway -- but it was still unusual for her be gone this long.

Sans only sees the network post after what feels like hours of puttering around their room. He had a new one to move into, somewhere, Sans supposed, but the camaraderie was something Sans grew used to. J was a handful, but she was his handful -- and vice versa, he's sure.

Bony thumb tapping anxiously against the MID screen as he reads over the message a second time, Sans decides to turn it off completely -- determined to close his eye sockets and drift off. Things were as they were, no matter how you questioned them. Speculation and worry and anxiety -- there wasn't any time for any of them. These were the things Sans insisted to himself, while frantically trying to shut his mind off as easily as he had his MID.

J would be back. Probably tonight. If not tonight, then... well, J would be back.

She had to be.]