thisavrou

[Behold. This is not your everyday pleasant, charming, and well-spoken Dorian, noooo -- say hello to your not-so-friendly neighborhood irascible Dorian. He’s not above sarcasm and friendly banter, but short tempered is rare for someone so practical and cordial…and yet.]

So we’re the bad guys, the root of all suffering and evil blah, blah, blah…now where have I heard this tune before? Oh right, partiality as old as the Maker himself…and yet they’re not above lying, manipulating, torture, brutality, and theft [theft gets its own special emphasis for very specific reasons] they don’t kill, they don’t imprison, such unique little snowflakes they are. I’m certainly not seeing any of their own in here for transgressions committed, because they’ve been flawless hosts I suspect. Venhedis kaffan vas.

[He’s so irritated that it’s difficult to tease his sarcasm apart from his true irritation.]

Of course, I could be wrong, the little pack of Savrii that assaulted me unprovoked could have been a fever dream, it’s possible. Not bloody likely. But possible.

[So what’s brought on so much agitation? Well, for anyone who knows the mage, they know he’s something of a drunkard and a drunkard without wine is being forced to dry out. Right now, he’s only agitated…small mercies.]

As an aside has anyone taken stock of all of our resources, they’re still feeding us and supplying us with some things, yes? I need more than that to keep myself occupied -- books, cards, music, writing materials…any-bloody-thing really.

[His voice isn't shaking at all.]

liberaltus

( tl;dr also there's some creepy magic stuff going on inside as a warning )

indoctrinated

[ the feed flickers once, twice, before it settles on Thisavrou's latest Turian resident. ]

I have heard of machine-gods that could harvest entire civilizations and render them into nothingness in nanoseconds, or even create a symbiotic relationship between machines and organics...but I have never heard of the likes of machinery that could resuscitate the dead.

Yet, I am led to believe the technology here is so highly advanced that it is as common as any other glitch in a program. Is that right?

[ here, Saren pauses, clearly disbelieving. ]

I seek more credible answers, which surely someone must have uncovered by now. Is there more to how we arrived here? What is known about our gracious hosts, is there information regarding them or their government?

Humans are known for their arrogance and non-compliance. I cannot imagine that all of you have been content to act as no better than cogs in a machine, submitting so that our gracious hosts could reap the benefits of your contribution.

buyeverything

I've got a question for the peanut gallery, is this whole changing appearance thing the usual here?

[Because he woke up today looking like he should, not like some fresh faced twenty year old any longer. Now he's got a problem on his hands, possibly. The video shows off his mid thirties look, which honestly isn't that different from when he was younger, hairline up a fraction, a lot more tired looking, hair a bit thinner ~~a billion wrinkles~~.]

I'm getting the feeling I should start to worry if I'm gonna wake up looking ninety years old one day. Reassure a guy won't you?

[To continue pretending to be mentally in his early twenties or not, that is the question.]

prorenataa

[ He'd meant to make this audio only but it was too much effort and when the video came up instead, Adrien couldn't be arsed to switch it out.

So have an image of one of your medical professionals, Moira crew. The right side of his face, particularly around the temple and orbital bone is a spectacular black, purple, red and shade of green and the bruising traces down across his cheek. He has butterfly bandages on a cut across the eyebrow, the edge of which disappears into his hair line. His right arm is (currently) in a sling, though he appears to be wriggling his way out of it.

Adrien looked pale; paler than usual, his freckles definitely on display across his otherwise ashen skin. Dark circles were imprinted under his eyes and he kept blinking, as if focusing was a bit of a bitch. Still, when he spoke, his voice was clear (if accented) and to the point. ]

Right that sucked.

We've secured a location and set up the medical tent, though if anyone has some impromptu spots set up, give a shout; especially if you need supplies. Otherwise, if you need treatment ... please seek it out.

[ Yes he said 'please'. Yes he has a major head wound. ]

Has anyone been able to get any sort of count on who is clear of the wreckage? Walking injured? Non-ambulatory injured and dead? We've got track of some of the cryo units but if you know of one, let someone know so we can try to get an accurate count.

[ Reaching up with his now freed right arm, Adrien rubbed at his injured temple, wincing. ]

We've got some supplies here at the tent; water and nutrition bars mostly. Does anyone know the state of the ship? What about our immediate situation? Can anyone tell if we can secure this location and hold it until we can stop the ringing in our ears?

[ Maybe it was just his ears?

Finally, the important question. ]

Any evidence that ... anything ... we saw on the trip here, followed us through?

newnova

[ This is not Sam's first kidnapping, nor is it his first time in space. He'd calmly and coolly tried fleeing the ship, but his Nova helmet for some reason refused to navigate a course back home, and he didn't exactly want to jump without knowing where he was going. So he'd accepted the contract, and moved into his quarters for the time being.

There's only one problem. ]

is anyone else missing stuff? i don't mean random stupid stuff like shoes (but i am missing those too), i mean important stuff that was DEFINITELY in your pocket but isn't there anymore.

alterplex

[ Brevity is a virtue of Venom's: he doesn't mince words when he throws his very concise, very curt statement up onto the network, staying pragmatic for the sake of time. It's a bit of a deviation from his standard to rely on text for communication, but he's in a bit of a bind right now. ]

Don't wander near West Leslie’s Fish Market and Creatatorium. It's one tourist trap you're gonna want to avoid.

[ He's absolutely not going to say that something fishy is going on because that pun is terrible, but it's implied. Heavily.

Actually, you know what, a picture is worth a thousand words: he sends a photo attachment approximating the area he's stumbled into, which he figures should speak for itself. A dim room with people strapped onto a bed, hooked up to suspicious-looking fluids; not exactly a vote of confidence cast in favor of this colony. ]

Try to exercise discretion.

(( OOC: this is a post to let people know about this plot right here! feel free to ask him about deets (he's still there, in this weird fishroom, texting and trying to figure out a gameplan), and feel free to drop in here to give him backup!

if you want to plot anything, go ahead and PM me or PP me at

deuil as well! depending on what happens here, i'll be setting up a starter on the event log post— hit me up with anything and everything, peeps, i'm def here for all your input! ♥ ))

warandpeace

☄Audio

[Around the colony there are signs for something called the C.I.S.M. (the Cease Intergalactic Slavery Movement). There's little more than the occasional pamphlet peddling samaritan or some billboards that announce the problem to newcomers or remind acquiescing residents of their guilt. Kaz has the good fortune to happen across their headquarters, a series of (what he feels is entirely too prone) white tents with well-meaning volunteers.]

[It's really a tragic effort. And after the ship's first adventures in the Runoff slavery outpost it seems it's pretty important that the crew do something about it. At least that's his logic for aiding them. After all, in the event they're taken it's not like the crew has much proof of identity. No one can come after them if they're captured and sold if they're not rescued before the ship leaves. They'd be lost.]

[Miller's plan is to beef up their resources, give them better tools to go on the offensive. But he wants to be a little bit discrete about the plan. Just enough for some sliver of plausible deniability. Asking if people want to be involved in the organization's cause? He'll just see who gets lured in. Maybe he can find some smugglers and military trainers.]

There's a small group here. Some grassroots efforts against slavery. I figured they could use a little help around here. Come by if you have the time and are interested. Contact me privately if you're not sure where it is and I'll tell you how to get here from your location, especially if you've noticed some trafficking activity where you're at.

There's not much they can do right now. The rules here are a little ambiguous, but they seem pretty certain that this is a persisting problem they would like to stop.

[He'll just wait to see who bites.]

OOC: This and this are the plotting threads concerning the C.I.S.M. He'll want to know safe businesses and homes for slaves to hide at, get aid in transporting people, and find people that can train them some guerrilla troops for some good espionage efforts. You're safe to assume word of mouth can reach your characters if you want them pulled in by someone else. Back-dated to soon after their arrival.

sketchycharacter

[The face that appears on the MID is familiar, despite the age loss. Nathan Drake is recognizably himself. But there are fewer lines on his face, no touch of gray in his hair, and he's skinnier, without twelve years of built-up muscle.

He's also got an obvious black eye and a set of plain ~~prison~~clothes that are pretty threadbare. Those are new.]

Okay, so, space. That's a thing. Which you've all probably figured out by now, since you're here and all.

[He lifts a hand in greeting.]

I'm Nate. And I don't want to complain, because I got lifted out of a shitty place and I'm sure someone thought they were doing me a favor, but I'm going to complain anyway, because I didn't actually need it. I wanted to be there. And if someone had to spacenap me, the least they could've done is take my brother too. Sam's gonna be pissed he missed this.

[On the plus side, his prison garb at least smells better now. Thanks, Moira laundering facilities.]

So is there a complaints department? Or some way I can get a ride back to Panama? Probably not that lucky, huh.

otiosity

Not to interrupt any serious conversations anyone is having about dim hallways and new captains and stumbling into another dimension but-

Does anyone have an extra set of clothes for sale for a tall.... tall-ish person? My only pair were taken by slavers and I don't have enough sense of duty and authority to wear the uniform they gave to me. [Read: SHE THINKS IT LOOKS AWFUL.] And I have been told in the past by certain people that it's not "appropriate for the city's champion" to refuse to wear proper clothes. So basically, looking for something non pretentious and and that properly marks me as the dashing rogue that I am.

In exchange, I can give you 5 gold coins, a deck of glass playing cards, 2 magic tricks, and a beautiful piece of artwork to hang in your room by our favorite local artist Nathan Drake.

Please send all inquiries to Hawke at the talkie thing on your wrist.

sketchycharacter

[The following is actually a series of three separate posts to the network; all three are posted in fairly quick succession, likely before anyone can reply to the first two, though they are open to comments.]

how do you make it so not everyone can read one of these things

[like thirty seconds later]

oh

[a couple of minutes later LOCKED FROM CERTAIN PEOPLE NAMED ELENA FISHER]

so a bunch of people use this system to pour their hearts out and get other people to do the same which usually seems weird to me. i mean just because you say it over the mid doesn't mean you won't run into people later and make it really weird and awkward. i don't know maybe that's just me.

except what the hell i'm pretty drunk right now so why the fuck not!

RIDDLE ME THIS, CREWMATES. pretend for a minute that you're a complete asshole who somehow got the most amazing woman in the world to marry you, fucked it up real fast like dropped a grenade on it bad BECAUSE you're a complete asshole, got her to take you back and start over and then fucked it up again.

what do you do? asking for a friend.

also the first person to make a suggestion that actually works can have some of my alcohol stash. everyone else can fuck off i'm not sharing.

( Drunk )

( Drunker )

( Drunkest )

sidecars

If anyone cares
That Ever Young pool this planet's been bragging about
Supposedly makes you look ten years younger
Well, it works

[ Which is exactly why Bucky isn't using video this time around. ]

liberaltus

[Dorian's been practicing, it took him a few tries to get the hang of it, but he's become quite proficient now, at least to introduce himself properly. So behold, your resident perfectly coifed, charming, jet-setting fop...just look into his eyes and you'll know it's all true.]

While I've been charmed through and through by those of you I've met personally, I've not had the opportunity to mingle with everyone [unfortunate, really] so I suppose an en bloc introduction will have to suffice.

[Until he can get around to the insuperable task that is rubbing elbows with everyone.]

I am Dorian of House Pavus, how do you do? [He would bow, but since that's not feasible he simply inclines his head.]

On to the meat and potatoes, yes? My duties aboard the flying cataclysm, or at least one of them, include researching and cataloging medical issues. I suppose the official title is Research Technician.

[Take note. He does sound leery.]

Not that I'm the poster child for what's considered proper, but I think it should be a matter of record that while, yes, I am a skilled researcher [why be humble, someone recognized this] my area of expertise resides within the realm of the arcane, thaumaturgy, crafting new forms of magic, and so forth. I am a Necromancer, by specialization, not a Spirit Healer and so when it comes to maladies I cannot say that I am familiar with the intricacies.

[He could point out the hallmark signs of the Taint, but that is about the extent of it.]

Not that it should get in the way of studying and filing information away for the proper healers aboard this ship. [At least until he's polished up.]

While we're on the subject, interviews may be unavoidable, but, considering my druthers I'd much rather conduct them at a distance. If some of your maladies are catching, I'd rather not be in the line of fire as I make for a terrible patient and those around me would be living in miserable despair. Nobody wants that, I can promise you.

[And someone would have to take care of him, because he's simply hopeless when he's sick!]

Now with that out of the way, quick question. Do we have any green thumbs among us, those with a natural skill for gardening? [Dorian reaches off screen and shakes a vial of seeds labeled 'elfroot' at his audience.] I have a limited number of healing, regeneration, and lyrium potions that are bound to run out...but specific plants [in addition to a handy mage] can be crafted into these useful little potions and I have many of the ingredients for this and more. Certain tonics should come in handy, resistance and armor should be useful to some, yes? Sadly I have a checkered history with dirt so in order to make this possible I'll need to know if we have gardening space and if we have gardening types among the crew. Not certain what I can offer you as compensation for your help, but I am open to discussing arrangements.

skelepun

[Solemn silence reigns for the first few moments of the broadcast. A shuffle of papers, a clearing of his throat -- or technically, a very good impersonation of it. There's no throat to clear. Anyway.]

Okay, so. I know there's been a lot of back and forth lately, kids. And I don't wanna add to the tension, but as long as we're ripping off band aids? I figure there's no time like the present.

[Another deep breath. Clearly, this is weighing heavily on the guy.]

I'm gonna say a few words that'll mean a lot to you guys. Bran. Oatmeal. Raisins. Words that should never even brush against the word muffin. And yet every Saturday, seems like those are the only muffins I see. I'm not gonna point fingers or anything. I dunno if the blame lies with the people taking the decent pastries or the persons allowing those ingredients to infect perfectly good muffins in the first place, but it's a tragic miscarriage of judgment and for the safety of the crew, I think it's important we all address the massive, raisin dotted elephant in the room.

I'm mean, jeez, guys. There are kids on this ship. What if they mistake them for chocolate chips? We're all responsible if we do nothing. Get it together, Moira.

[Another deep breath. He's said his peace. When he speaks again, it's as if a completely different person is grinning into the mic.]

And hey, as long as we're all here, feel free to air your various grievances too. Y'know, to save the Captains their bandwidth. Let it all out.

Entries tagged with dragon age: dorian pavus

video

video | shadow event | dorian just got creepy

text; + action options; (cw character death)

[video]

Video | January 3rd

Video

✧ text

[ TEXT + PHOTO ]

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video;

voice;

text; + action options

text;

video; because we have all the things to say

audio; a very important statement for the entire crew