with_my_teacup

I remember the night, years before; the air mattress on the floor

Fri, 05 Jun 2015 02:41:02 GMT

( Private messages-- evening, June 4 )

[Morning, June 5 - Public]

No speeches. I'm heading out in 24. Until then, you know where to find me.

[He's been a ghost the past month, packing, planning, easing himself out of his role in the kitchen; it won't be a shock. He goes without malice, but it's time.

He can be found in his room, open to anyone who wants a last word.]

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Fri, 09 Jan 2015 19:50:42 GMT

( PRIVATE TO CASSEL AND ANYA )

( Private to breakfast staff )

[BREAKFAST SPAM/MINGLE]
[This breakfast shift, the cafeteria has sprouted the smell of a forest in summer, and decorative vines have appeared twined around the table legs and draped over the coffee kiosk. Breakfast looks amazing. Although-- you should probably be careful. Some of the drinks, dishes, and pastries have an oak leaf garnish; these are either spiked with plain alcohol or Autumnal Acorn Ale. As for the oak leaf food, you get two guesses which herb the kitchen borrowed from the Mystery Bakers. It's meant to be harmless and fun, and a figure is watching from behind the leaves to toss out anyone who tries to take advantage.]

[Riddick is flood affected! Meet a post-play Oberon, who's just made up with his Titania and is in a good mood. Come have spiked food with your pals. Come be confused about why Riddick has antlers. Come be bewildered kitchen staff. Do the things.]

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[Private]

Wed, 24 Dec 2014 01:56:19 GMT

[Locked to Arthas, Anya, Ben]
Look, can I get you all for about an hour on the night of the twenty-fifth? You don't have to make conversation, be social, look anyone in the eye or be pleasant. I just want you to sit down and eat.

( Gift list follows )

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44 - see your face everywhere I go

Thu, 18 Dec 2014 21:18:18 GMT

[Message]
[Distributed by rumor, by letters left in hiding holes, to those Riddick knows to be not on the side of Aslan but not fanatically on the side of the White Witch]

'Winter is ended but Spring is not yet come. Meet me in the Giant's Ringbox'

[He's referring to a small room-sized cave safely out of the way of both armies. Grubby crystal stalactites hang from the ceiling, but if they are really the result of a forgetful giantess long ago leaving her rings there for safekeeping no-one knows.

Those who know can find the dark dwarf there, mending some of his leather gear innocently.]

[Part of the Cat's in the Closet breach! Riddick is a dwarf loyal neither to Aslan or the White Queen]

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R43 - Y'all hating's useless

Mon, 24 Nov 2014 18:42:08 GMT

[Public]
[The feed opens on a simple poster with the hand-blocked words WE NEED HELP IN THE KITCHEN.]

Testing out a new option to save time. Specifically right now we need a warden supe for lunch shift, until Ben comes home. If you're not used to working on a line or feeding a lot of people, we won't drop you into combat with no training. Marsh and I will help you out.

Oh. Not related to the kitchen-- I smelled a still running last month. Whoever it is, I want to pick your brain about fermentation.

[Filtered to Iris]
Iris. You got some time this afternoon to talk weasel shit and entropy? I'm willing to barter for your know-how. [He lifts a bottle of oil into the feed; last christmas, he gave her a massage, because sometimes it seems like she metabolizes stress the same way Arthas eats death. And the feeding's been good on that score lately.]

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R42 - All that matters is the beautiful life

Mon, 10 Nov 2014 23:09:14 GMT

[Public]
So if there's an inmate with no temp and no recent murders under their belt who needs a ticket off the barge, I have a vacancy.

[Open Spam]
[Frankly he could give about half a fuck about sex shops or soft drugs. Amsterdam for Riddick means trying the local cuisine with cold judgment, looking for cold weather clothes, and taking care of his list for the admiral.

He blends into the background with practiced ease, goggles nowhere to be seen and the dark glasses warden-dean gave him one christmas adding anonymity. He drifts through crowded streets like a shadow, keeping an eye out for Loki getting himself into trouble... but he's not about to lunge in at the slightest provocation. Life's too short.

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Tue, 04 Nov 2014 19:00:05 GMT

[Public audio]
A couple orders of business.

First: we do have food, like Hart asked. We don't have enough capacity on fired or gas burning equipment to do our usual amount of hot food.

Second, and I know you're all tired of hearing this, but we're understaffed. However since this is a crisis I'm not looking for full time inmates-- I don't give a fuck, in fact. Inmate, warden, whatever, I'll take the help. If you've got cooking facilities in your room and you want to cook for friends, we'll give out the materials you run short on by a limited basis. I'd also appreciate help with securing kitchen equipment. Again, warden or inmate, as long as you prioritize food over fighting--and I ask because as a new inmate I definitely didn't and I absolutely would have used a crisis like this as cover to pocket a knife.

And last on the kitchen subject -- anyone with nonstandard abilities to put off a lot of heat. Don't kill yourself or anything, but if you can heat a percolator full of coffee with minimal effort I'd appreciate you putting in an hour or two around mealtime.

Third: on a personal note. I'm looking for any information on the following people--last scene, circumstances around their disappearance, were they in distress, anything about the following:
Anya Lensherr
Arthas Menethil
Ben
Megamind

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R51 - Like we're gonna die young

Tue, 30 Sep 2014 05:05:40 GMT

Well fuck that bullshit.

I'm taking pie requests and there's gonna be cookies in fifteen minutes. Anyone who's deathtolling hit me up when you're hungry again.

[Private to 'Megamind']

Something up-? Found a visitor in my room when I got home.

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R50 - Now my song's on the radio

Wed, 20 Aug 2014 18:20:50 GMT

This is Richard B Riddick calling out from the barge. Anyone interesting out there?

[He's feigning casual, but last year he was able to talk to Fry and Kyra and that wasn't a small deal for him.]

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R49 - Get inside my fuckin' gold Transam

Sat, 09 Aug 2014 19:08:43 GMT

[Riddick is a little wrong-footed this port. He keeps whistling for an animal that isn't there, pausing to worry about why he can't hear Partner and remembering it's because he's a universe away.

He wishes he'd waited, a little; Partner would have liked it here. But there'll be more jungles for them.

He throws himself into exploring; climbing trees to see what lives at the top, crouching in the shadows like a gargoyle to see how life interacts when it doesn't think there's a big invader around.

When he's decided it's safe enough, he bathes in a clear pool, scraping off sweat and unselfconsciously naked; his clothes strung up on a creeping vine ought to be enough warning, and if it isn't, whatever.]

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R48 - And yeah some bad tattoos

Wed, 06 Aug 2014 05:32:54 GMT

Is it 'share my rap sheet' week again? Gracious.

Since I've been kind of a home body and a lot of you are new; name's Richard Riddick. Breakfast shift warden, you've probably seen me behind the waffles.

Also a felon. Also sort of accidentally the head of a death cult. My rap sheet... you'd get bored if I went on all day; just sprinkle the words 'murder' and 'manslaughter' and 'aggravated assault' around liberally, chuck in some 'flight from justice' and a handful of counts of 'grand theft spacefaring vehicle' and you've got the picture. I've got a bodycount of my own.

And yes, to those who asked? I'm a warden. Mister Graham. [Prissyface at you, sir.]

This seems like a good segue into a point that keeps getting forgotten when new inmates roll in and old ones go out; there's barely, barely a behavioral code for wardens. You shouldn't ever trust someone just because they have the keys to the bar. We've had, and we'll have again, wardens who were outright amoral assholes openly looking for their paycheck. Ask your favourite lifer about the Terminator sometime. The qualifications for warden have nothing to do with virtue and everything to do with the ability to help someone else in a very specific way.

So stop thinking this is really about justice, about good people fixing bad people. Bullshit; whatever the admiral's reasons, all this place is for us is a long breather where we get our lives patched back up. It doesn't mean we're forgiven, it doesn't mean the slate's wiped clean, it means when we do get out it's because we learned how to live in a way that doesn't harm so many other people. Including ourselves. Don't think of this as a prison, because I know none of us were formally charged when we got dumped here. This is an unfriendly space phenomenon, a bad dream, the hostile planet we wrecked ourselves on. You don't escape it by fighting. You can't fight gravity with a shiv. You escape it by repairing your shit.

Redraw the lines in your mind, who's good, who's bad. If you question your own judgement, question it on what you observe for yourself, not what you've been told. Forget what you think about becoming a model citizen or making things right, and concentrate on the quality of your own life.

[Private to Arthas]

I was going to ask if it was a'ight to take a month off and try to find a safe place for the dog, after he got chewed up this last takeover... but it seems like a bad time now.

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R47 - Back to Wonderland

Thu, 10 Jul 2014 20:17:06 GMT

Hi, kids.

[Anyone unaffected may notice something about Riddick; a little less aggressively edgy, a little more of a wall. Because Riddick as she is got more mileage out of having a mountainous will, a sledgehammer self, than being an unpredictable razor-blade of a person.]

Room full of large clothes, cut for small hips and big shoulders, for anyone who needs to borrow them. Missing all my t-shirts, but life's not always fair. [She shrugs, massively. What are you going to do.]

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R46 - feeling like a saber-tooth tiger

Sat, 07 Jun 2014 19:56:58 GMT

Very specific question today, Barge.

It's a big multiverse out there. Some of you gotta be from universes with extremely dangerous and difficult to manage animals. Anybody know a kennel that takes the undead?

So far Partner hasn't gotten beat up in any of the floods or breaches, and I appreciate that, but a guy gets paranoid. Next time we start getting warning signals, I'd like to take him somewhere I know's safe.

[Private to Alec]

So. Temporary pairings. That's a thing.

You need anything that takes a key?

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R45 - Public Service Announcement

Sun, 27 Apr 2014 19:35:50 GMT

Sorry to interrupt the usual post-flood chatter, but I have a safety warning.

The CES is ... maybe a little unsafe.

'Creating environments hostile to life' unsafe. Not every time, but enough. Be absolutely sure you know where you are and if it's safe before you go in.

[reference to in progress log here]

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R44 - Warri, arri, arrior

Sun, 13 Apr 2014 20:27:24 GMT

[Public]

['Melkor the witch hunter' wears a black cloak and a foam greatsword at his waist-- along with a few beanbag pouches he found labeled 'lightning bolt' and 'snare'. Otherwise, the outfit isn't changed much from Riddick's standard wear. Ask him, and he's a renegade half-drow.]

So this is your kingdom? I've seen worse. The name is Melkor and by trade I'm a witch hunter. Find me in the great dining hall if you have business for me. Rogue sorcerors-- the undead-- I can deal with what troubles you. For a price.

If you don't have the coin for it, leave me be.

[Open Spam]

[And when he is not doing his morning ritual at the dining hall-- where his work is for no god but for the souls of those he has lost, he can be found stalking the halls with his mighty witch-hound, rolling dice to detect traps and foes.

Partner has foam dog armor. He's patiently trying to eat it.]

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R43 - We were born to break the doors down

Sun, 30 Mar 2014 19:57:41 GMT

I have plenty to hide, most of you know that. I hide it in plain sight, some of you know that.

You can ask whatever; I'm game.

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R42 I'm over it, so suck my

Sun, 23 Mar 2014 02:52:37 GMT

I go down for a nap and someone jacks the barge. Really.

Really.

Cannot leave you fuckers unattended for a moment.

[Riddick's voice is hoarse with sleep, but backreading the network sure was a wake-up call.]

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R41 - Shadows of a past life (wish I could rewind)

Wed, 26 Feb 2014 06:11:27 GMT

[Riddick's outside, somewhere, sitting on some ledge that isn't specifically for human habitation, his dog flopped over him. He's petting the big canid idly.]

Do you ever wonder where the animals go.

Breaches. Time dilation floods. Barge breakdowns-- most aquatic animals are real, real finicky about water temperature and oxidation. How didn't we lose the shark during the planetcrash where we lost power? When everyone had a daemon but nobody had their pets, where were the cats and rabbits and birds?

Where did you go the last few days, boy, huh? [Partner lolls out a tongue, no understanding in his glowing, undead eyes.]

Just... something that's been eating me.

( Backdated spam - Arthas )

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R40 - We're made in stars, we're up in space

Wed, 12 Feb 2014 01:00:52 GMT

( Valentines for Megamind, Arthas )

[There's a certain patter in Riddick's voice, a certain... almost nervousness but not quite. His lazy drawl is gone. There's also a pale gray cast to his skin, a certain lifelessness, a certain blue light that almost looks like is reflecting off of his goggles but is actually coming from inside them.] And so we flood just in time for the Earth holidays again; have we accepted it as a given that the admiral does this deliberately now-? But it's only only certain Earth holidays, and usually the same, frequently Judeo Christian, always English-speaking. Some day we'll put in port on Helion Prime in time for Ramadan, and the rest of you will get used to eating at night. As long as we're in port and the kitchen staff doesn't have to deal with it, what is it about the kitchens that seems to be a trap for incapacitation and drama I can't say-

Sorry. Train of thought ran away with me there.

Any-hoo. Carry on, barge.

[Filtered to breakfast kitchen staff + on call wardens]
I'm not in or on form today, mentally or physiologically, by which I mean I can't taste anything and my sense of smell is completely gone. I'm going to require help with the menu and with tasting. Mister Wuornos, if you have your sense of taste and are currently also mostly yourself I could use your help.

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R39 - Give me some of that yum like a lollipop

Fri, 17 Jan 2014 04:52:14 GMT

[A public service announcement]

Hi, kids. It's Richard B. Riddick; you may recognize me as that guy from the kitchen at breakfast.

Friendly reminder that there's nearly a hundred of us, and the functional kitchen staff currently stands at seven plus one on inventory. David Cain was a kitchen worker, Lua Klein was the dinner manager, and our only inmate left on lunch duty is currently about this big. [He holds his hands apart to indicate the Creed-terrier.] And one of the seven? Probation for a week because kitchen tools are not a weapon unless the alternative is death.

We need more hands. We always need more hands, we really need more hands. We always do. One warden, at least one more inmate.

Which brings me to another thing.

Due to the unstable tendencies of the barge and the real stable tendency of most of us to have to eat, I'm requesting anyone with cooking prep experience think about putting themselves on call in case of flood, death toll, or dog. A few more short term hands means a few less posts like this.

Thanks.

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R38 - Not just pretty words

Mon, 13 Jan 2014 00:07:01 GMT

( Spam for Sylvanas )

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R37 - error, post hijacked

Thu, 09 Jan 2014 14:00:39 GMT

Look, I don't wanna alarm anyone, but we got some real unsavory characters on the network all of a sudden.

[Riddick toggles over to another feed, where someone is calling in from outside. A middle aged man, with gray threading through his hair, yellow eyes, and a face like he makes a professional career out of dismantling brick walls with it.]

Hello, all you mothers' sons! I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

[The stranger grins, which is even uglier than him not grinning, but it's a friendly kind of ugly-- some barge veterans will recognize Brachi Stildyne, though a few years older than last seen.]

[Back to Riddick]
...so yeah, I'ma just go to work.

[Spam, Kitchen and surrounding areas]
[And he does go to work, not expecting any voices on the network he much wants to hear-- he's been away for days, still feeling that unnatural fatigue but not so much it's keeping him in bed anymore. He just drifts in as if he wasn't gone, an hour early, looks at what's on the menu and starts work.]

[OOC: Specify spam, vidya, or Stildyne- responses from Stildyne will come from umgekehrt. Warning, character in icons is uglier than he appears.]

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R36

Sun, 29 Dec 2013 02:31:57 GMT

[Shortly after this thread, Riddick walks out of his breakfast shift and back to his room. He will not be answering network communication. His door is locked but his friends' access is still active.]

[OOC: drop me a line before coming in if we haven't discussed this on plurk or IM]

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[christmas list]

Sun, 22 Dec 2013 23:55:52 GMT

( Just the christmas list, no messages )

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R35 - Carnivore animal

Tue, 10 Dec 2013 04:14:59 GMT

[Public & Kitchen Spam]
Noch breffast, chicos.

[Anyone who comes into the kitchen will notice that Riddick is all but non-verbal. He doesn't really understand English or any of the other major languages, and anyone who doesn't have a grounding in several common Earth languages won't understand the language he speaks-- the child of accented English and space-travel Spanish and technical Chinese with loanwords peppered in like... well, pepper, subject to extreme grammatic drift, with even the familiar verbs conjugated in unfamiliar ways and prepositions hiding where they're least expected

So he's not talking much. Instead, much pantomime, much grunt and shrug. ...And much picture. Enjoy your breakfast menu, barge.]

( Large image )

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