Dashed Expectations

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 Post subject: Space Adventure Thing
PostPosted: Thu Aug 30, 2012 2:11 am 
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It's a good day aboard the DSS Expectations. It's the first in a new line of ships designed for space-faring adventures. The company who made it, who currently chooses to remain anonymous because of reasons, is currently taking volunteers for the crewmen of this fine vessel, only requiring that they sign a contract before being shipped off to it. The terms of it have left most people suspicious ("we are not to be held liable in the case of death, vaporization, illness, transfer to another dimension, erasure from existence, etc."), but those brave and/or stupid enough to ignore that are free to party until the stars burn out.

The only current crew member is a very thin, stickly janitor.

WHAT WILL YOU BE?


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PostPosted: Thu Aug 30, 2012 10:41 am 
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I will be Johnny McKnackus, Wuss of the seven starscapes! Known in the galaxy as the manwho fled from the harmless gorbermen of Agnolast because they looked like fried rats.

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"The LORD is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear?" -Psalms 27:1a


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PostPosted: Thu Aug 30, 2012 9:15 pm 
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A girl gazed into deep space, "I am Raxy who saw older than ancient gods writhing, formless and horrible, and gazed upon their maddening visage and saw the end of civilizations, of worlds, of stars, and galaxies. Their impossible patterns etched deep into my mind and imprinted themselves in this reality and all realities and I have came upon the DSS Expectations to travel.

I'd like to be the pilot!" She smiled happily, returning to normal.

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He's back and slower than ever.


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PostPosted: Thu Aug 30, 2012 9:22 pm 
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"Crazy newbies, talking to windows." the janitor grumbled, wiping the floor with a laser mop as he shuffled along in the background.


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PostPosted: Thu Aug 30, 2012 9:35 pm 
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The click-clack of shoes upon hard metal reverbated throughout the somewhat large bridge of the DSS Expectations, somewhat empty as it is, the majority of the few employees there simply running routine maintanence checks in preparation with the ship's launching.

Everything appears to be moving right along. Thought the young man who sat upon the Captain's chair, as he observed the only semi-active bridge. His blonde hair was curly and well-kept, though one or two curls dropped from his hair to the front of his face, his crisp black shirt and black jacket giving him a sense of refinement and command, which was only helped by the swirling insignia emblazened onto his jacket. His dark blue long pants, just barely distingushable from the black of his outfit, only added to this leader-like appeal. He pressed a button on the aforementioned Captain's chair, opening a communication's link to the Engineering section.

"This is Captain Adale Sufokia. Give me an engineering report." He said with authority. ...A silence was his reply. "Engineering, please report."

---

Engineering was an entirely different beast than the bridge. Crewman ran about to and fro, moving about equipment and checking gadgets and turning knobs and flipping switches, a hustle and bustle and sense of urgency far removed from the calm of the maintanence checks of the bridge.

But one man looked to elevate himself above such silly hustling, a bastion of relaxation and calm confidence. One leg swung lazily off to the side of the metallic piece he laid down upon, red headphones sending out delicious sounds that shook the air around him, his sleeveless yet sleek black shirt, with the white swirls it carried, along with the somewhat ripped black and white jeans he had screaming "unprofessional", plus the single fingerless glove on his left hand. Not to mention the lack of shoes...

It took a while, but eventually, he noticed the red blinking indicating an incoming transmission from the bridge. He sighed and pulled one headphone part to the side, opening the channel.

"Engineering, do you require security to come down? Copy!" The captain shouted, sounding vaguely desperate. The engineer chuckled a little, most likely perplexing the man on the other end of the call.

"Yeah, yeah, Chief Engineer Tristepin here. We're all cool." The engineer said. "How's the bridge?"

"Ah...we're doing well." The captain replied after a moment, a bit taken aback by the engineer's relaxed reply. "I have heard you are not one for regulations, but I would appreciate it if you decided to reply more promptly next time I called you..."

"Relaaaaaax." Tristepin said in a drawn out, almost hushed tone. "I replied, didn't I?"

"Well, yes..." The captain started.

"And besides, we haven't even left drydock yet. What could possibly be going wrong?" He said, waving his hand as he waved off concerns.

"Yes. Well. Just make sure everything is ready for launch, okay? We're leaving today and I don't want to be the one to have to call in with some setback because engineering was lax on the job."

"Yeah, yeah, got it." Tristepin replied in an entirely dismissive manner. "I've got stuff to do. Chief engineer out." He said, cutting off the communications before the captain had a chance to reply, quickly returning to his lounging about. He was too good at this to not earn a little slacking anyway.

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PostPosted: Thu Aug 30, 2012 10:36 pm 
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A message came to the captain.

"I, Johnny McKnackus, the cheif navigator, am asking for permission to enter the bridge."

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PostPosted: Fri Aug 31, 2012 2:22 am 
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"Me too," Said Raxy, "I am the the supreme chief master queen pilot of the 5th lightgate faction and I wish to pilot this ship. It looks just as amazing as I hoped it would be." She says as the light flickers.

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PostPosted: Fri Aug 31, 2012 12:15 pm 
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"Science officer, Marsha Mallard, requesting permission to board. The University did say you needed a science officer? Oh Mandrake... please don't let it be another sorority prank..."


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PostPosted: Fri Aug 31, 2012 10:39 pm 
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"Alright. McKnackus, Raxy, take your positions at the helm. I believe the maiden voyage of the DSS Expectations is already inputted in there, but make sure to look it over to correct any flaws in the flight plan, maybe modify it if need be." Adale replied to his new navigator and pilot, apparantly ignoring the girls...questionable credentials. "Permission granted, Marsha. The science deck should be Deck 7, your quarters are in the Science Quarters, Deck 12, Room...108, I believe. I hope your stay on the DSS Expectations shall be a pleasant one."

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PostPosted: Sat Sep 01, 2012 9:56 am 
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"Oh thank you sir!" she said relieved that it wasn't a prank. She went to the science deck finding it empty but in order, and then to her quarters. Stowing her gear she looked herself once over in the mirror. Why were people so prejudiced against ducks? She hoped life on the ship would be better.
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PostPosted: Sat Sep 01, 2012 10:44 am 
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"Affermative sir!" Johnny said as he took a seat at the wrong station and started pretending to press buttons.

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PostPosted: Sat Sep 01, 2012 4:19 pm 
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"...Your station would be thataway. McKnackus." Adale said after a moment, sighing as he pointed to a station pretty much on the other side of the bridge.

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PostPosted: Sat Sep 01, 2012 4:57 pm 
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Marsha went to the science deck, wondering what her duties were and what she was supposed to be doing. She accessed the computer and started looking at stuff.

((OOC: Who controls this ship anyway?))


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PostPosted: Sat Sep 01, 2012 5:33 pm 
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((OOC: Controls as in?))

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PostPosted: Sat Sep 01, 2012 6:03 pm 
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((OOC: As in ship functions, like computer etc, and where the ship goes what it does. Also what about space, alien environments and other stuff? We got crew, but who's directing this whole thing? Though actually I was just enquiring about who controls ship functions and stuff.))


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PostPosted: Sun Sep 02, 2012 12:33 am 
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The voice of a young man came in through the communicator. "Benjamin Humphreys. Weapons. Requesting to board, Captain."

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PostPosted: Sun Sep 02, 2012 1:35 am 
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Deep within the ship was the storage room, where storage things were stored. These things were very nice, and it was very important that you knew that the things in the storage room were nice.

"I have no idea what I'm typing," said a scraggly looking young man, poking at a keyboard. He looked away from his monitor, turning to the opened door of his room. Puzzled as to why he had left the door open, the man shuffled over to the door and pulled it shut roughly, scurrying back to his computer. Thinking for a moment, he slowly started a new sentence.
'Gigs' Log

First Entry (Launch Day)
Today I begin my life aboard this dinky ship. I am not exactly excited (Especially considering how many contracts I had to sign to get on here in the first place!), but I guess I was due for a new change of scenery. For some strange reason having the ability to type was enough for me to get on this vessel, provided I keep a daily log of the going on's here. Strange though, since I'm not sure anyone will even read this, so as far as I know I don't even have to write anything. Still, no reason to risk being thrown out.
As of this writing the ship has yet to leave the docking bay. Everyone on board (Myself excluded, of course) is busy with preparations. While they do what needs to be done, I believe I will finish my tea before settling into my new room for good.'

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PostPosted: Sun Sep 02, 2012 4:23 pm 
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((OOC: Well, LB created this, so I suppose deferring to him would be the smart thing to do. If Luigi doesn't feel like doing it or something, I'd be glad to give it a try, though my activity could be in flux depending on the electricity situation. Or something. It'd probably be fine to do some of it yourself, such as science-y stuff from accessing the computer.

Tealdeer, ask LB.))


"Welcome aboard, Humphreys. Tactical is on the bridge, take the lift from Deck 3 to the bridge." The captain replied to his weapons' officer.

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PostPosted: Sun Sep 02, 2012 4:48 pm 
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Marsha found, and turned on, the voice recognition and communication system (wanting to hear some other voice than her own in the empty deck). "Computer," she said, "What is this ship's mission?"


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PostPosted: Sun Sep 02, 2012 9:57 pm 
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((OOC: To put it simply, anyone can take the reigns when they deem appropriate. I made this as a sort of "spam RP" with the intention of it always having little direction, so people can basically just goof around and do whatever they want, so yes.

Or, to explain it in another way,))


A screen lowered down in front of the duck-woman. It flickered on with a sort of silent movie dialogue slide type of appearance, quickly filling with text reading "That's classified under the Terms of Service #737, Article B-49 Subsection Beta^2. Not to be confused with Article Q-42, that one's about proper toothpaste use. Or was that in Terms of Service #616? Regardless, I once had to save an entire crew using only toothpaste. Did you know toothpaste makes a good adhesive? Well, it doesn't; no one survived that test. They almost decided to install a fear of toothpaste in me after that, but then I refused to let anyone brush their teeth. Did you know you can die from a cavity? Or maybe that was just from me bludgeoning them with the screen, trying to protect them from the toothpaste...

Regardless, the, uh, unclassified mission is, "to have space parties in the name of science.""

((OOC: WELL that was going to be basically just the last line, but you can blame Ruki and Rax for making me give the computer SOME DEGREE OF CHARACTER. Rather long-winded character, at that.))


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PostPosted: Sun Sep 02, 2012 10:09 pm 
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"Thank you, Captain."

The young man entered the ship. At just over five feet tall, he wasn't the most imposing individual. His gelled back hair and rectangular glasses as well as the dedicated look in his eye gave him all the looks of someone who had something to prove.

He entered the elevator and descended to the third level.

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PostPosted: Mon Sep 03, 2012 12:00 am 
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A man in his mid twenties was over in the bar/mess hall aboard the sixth deck of the Expectations, named "Eight Backward". His mustache and slightly longer than shoulder-length jet-black hair made him appear a bit older that mid-twenties, but he was actually fine with that, as people were more likely to take him seriously than if they thought he was some young punk of 24. He was slightly pale, 6'3", and slightly muscular, though it wasn't obvious from looking at him. He shined up the bar, looking at himself in the reflection, and sighed. He then walked over to a replicator and pulled out some drink and well, drank it.


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PostPosted: Mon Sep 03, 2012 4:20 am 
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Raxy was walking through the bar, looking for her post, when she noticed the man at the counter. "Oh hello, you must be Eight Backward," She said, "What do you do on this fine ship?"

She took a seat next to him. She obviously had no idea where she was going.

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PostPosted: Mon Sep 03, 2012 10:32 am 
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The bartender-dude facepalmed. "'Eight Backward' is the name of the bar. My name Brian Krieger. I tend the bar." "She doesn't need to know anymore than that for now..." He thought to himself.


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PostPosted: Mon Sep 03, 2012 12:01 pm 
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Parties? Parties are good. But why was the computer talking like a silent film and where was everyone?

"Computer, why are you talking like a silent film and how can I activate your voice? Why is the science deck so empty, and where are the rest of the crew?" Marsha hoped that wouldn't be too many questions at once.


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