Security Department [open log]

[jurisimpudent]

CHARACTERS: Any and all
LOCATION: Security offices
WARNINGS: None at the moment, but if Tyke posts, then profanity, and if Soysauce posts, then goopiness
SUMMARY: Open log for SEC for the month of December.
NOTES: This is open to members of SEC and also members of the public who want a bit of SEC-siness in their lives. So you can post in here if you're a SEC member who wants an open thread for his/her patrol route, or a SEC member who wants to thread out patrolling with their partner (bonus points for buddy-cop banter); you can also use this for interactions in the main SEC offices, or you can post in here if you're working out in the gym and need a spotter, or you can post in here if you're lost in the halls and want someone official to help you back to your halls, or you can post in here if you're breaking into the SEC offices to have SEC-s on the desks - the possibilities are endless! (But don't feel limited to this log, either.)

Comments

Edgeworth, open thread all month!

[jurisimpudent]

[If you're coming into the security main offices, odds are you'll run into Edgeworth, as he's there pretty much constantly. Early in the month, you'll be treated to a brusque nod or a suspicious narrowing of the eyes, depending on your relationship to Edgeworth and whether you're there on business or not. As the month progresses, he has less and less energy to spend on you, so more likely you'll simply be ignored.]

[chromosomes]

[ Reaper's just coming in to drop off a written report from his patrol. It was a quiet one, nothing too exciting having happened. Usually he likes to give his reports to Tyke, and usually verbally, but today Edgeworth is the lucky one.

So hi, Miles. ]

[shoyu]

[ soysauce, of course, is a constant enough presence in and around the security offices. he's so used to constantly moving, constantly being active, that the security patrols are a welcome change from the quiet monotony of the ship. so he's almost always good-natured and energetic as he comes back from his patrols, giving his reports cheerfully enough. especially chipper when he's reporting to edgeworth, actually, since edgeworth always looks like he could use a little extra cheer in his life! ]

[bibliophilism]

[Instead of bursting in, Michelle will be a very good girl and knock on his door before entering. She has her metal briefcase with her again, and is wearing a neat green dress.]

Hello?

later on in the month, because he will not be ignored, dan.

[thatsaflaregun]

[One day, without warning, there is Desmond, just standing in the doorway.]


I'm beginning to think you actually live in here, brotha.

[maddening_gale]

[The scale of the ship is above and beyond anything built by Auldrantian hands, so it may be forgiven that it takes Jade a while to find the Security offices. Nevertheless, he'll arrive looking sharp and alert, or at least as sharp as one may in a black jumpsuit. He takes a second to glance about the room before assessing Edgeworth. If he had a sense of empathy, he might take a bit of pity on a man who looks so worn, but he's never had much capacity for either one.]

I take it that this is where the general population voices their security concerns?

Alex Summers, Open all month

[redhotsummers]

On Patrol

[Alex has his set team, of course, but when he can he picks up extra shifts, especially this month, with them being down a lot of people due to the weird continued sleeping of their ship mates. As a result, he's around a lot more often, wandering the halls, patrolling with whoever wants to join up.]

Offices

[Alex occasionally drops by, and occasionally puts in an effort to talk to people. He pushes a chair into a corner, kicking his feet up on a box, and sips on coffee, or whatever else he can get on his hands to drink.

As the month passes on, he gets more tired, and a bit more grumpy looking.

Which is a feat, considering how wound up he usually can look.]

Soysauce ; open all month!

[shoyu]

out and about ;

[ it's actually rather strange, how the ship feels just a bit emptier, just a bit quieter this time around. part of it's the network being down, of course, and part of it's with a significant portion of the ship's population still trapped in the gravity couches. but even without that, there's a slight, eerie calm to the air these days.

which soysauce compensates for by trying to remain as upbeat as possible. after all, what other solution is there to a difficult situation than to keep one's chin up and keep staying optimistic? the days go by, and soysauce spends plenty of time flitting about the hallways, gladly tending to his patrol shifts. ]

in the offices ;

[ and when he's done making his rounds in the hallways, after he submits his reports to whoever's on duty, he can often be found sitting in a corner, humming softly under his breath as he lovingly dismantles and polishes an old bolt-action rifle or large-frame revolver, keeping the steel at a flawless shine. ]

out and about

[walksonrooftops]

[Asato's an alpha-shift guy, meaning he's usually patrolling the hallways early in the morning while much of the ship still sleeps. Now that so many people are sleeping in their grav couches, his patrol feels even emptier, not unlike the familiar sensation of trudging through the darkness of the valley back home, where only the occasional screech of a bird could break the monotony. He was supposed to look for trouble, but on most days it felt like trouble just didn't come.

At the same time, it gives him that uncomfortable feeling like he's facing the calm before the storm, so instead of cutting his patrols short, he goes out more often. Just to double-check.

It's on one of his later checks that he runs into Soysauce. It startles him, though he should be expecting to see some people out here still. His cheerful appearance leaves him even more taken aback, but it beats out the worse alternatives, so Asato finds himself more curious than worried.]

Beta shift? [He slows to a halt, ears turned up attentively.] You look happy.

OUT THEEEEEERE

[bibliophilism]

[Michelle is walking through the corridors, on her way to the library, humming to herself. She doesn't look armed or even remotely capable of any sort of combat; if anything, she is armed with a cheerful smile, a book in her hand, and a metal briefcase in the other. Her nose is currently in the book and she doesn't seem to be watching where she's going.]

offices!

[whippings]

[ Watching a man look at a gun like that is rather disconcerting Franziska's finding, sitting across the room as she sips her coffee. After a little while, she becomes restless, deciding that she can't really not say anything, so she stands, picking up her whip from where she'd left it on the table and walks over towards him. ]

Favorite of yours?

Alistair, open

[forlifeloveandcheese]

on patrol;

[ Alistair is probably the weirdest guard out there. If it isn't for his renowned monarch status, it's for the fact that he keeps on insisting to wear heavy plate. There's a bullet proof vest underneath, of course, but a gun is too much. (Golden heavy plate and heirloom swords are probably too much as well - isn't perspective fun?) Besides, he could take down people better with a shield than a gun any day. ]

[ He likes saving people and the comfort of drudgery. Sue him. Anyway, he works regular shifts and is probably the most annoying partner ever. Seriously, he does not stop talking. ]

offices;

[ You know that one, annoying guy in the office that's all sunshine and kittens even during early morning when all you want to do is get your damned coffee but he won't stop making jokes about the coffee maker? They're not even good jokes. They're terrible jokes. Be prepared for him talking your ear off. ]

Offices!

[jurisimpudent]

[The only deviation from the scenario described above is that Edgeworth doesn't drink coffee; he drinks tea. Edgeworth, of course, has observed Alistair, and observed his proclivity towards jokes and quips and the like, and so he tries to avoid eye contact as he heats up water for the tea.

The unfortunate thing about tea as compared to coffee, however, is that coffee takes some thirty seconds: you pour it, you're gone. Tea, however - you have to heat the water, you have to let it steep, and in all the procedure takes a good eight minutes. And it's hard to avoid eye contact for eight minutes.]

on patrol ....

[birdhousesoul]

[ Anders is leaving the gardens. He's actually not wearing the revolutionary coat of doom, therefore; it's slung over his arm, a mass of feathers and shame.

It's between the garden and the kitchens that he crosses Alistair's path. He stops for a moment, less for conversation, than to appraise the King's choice of patrolwear. ]

You know ... that's not a half-bad idea. It's probably shielding you splendidly from all the space radiation.

offices!

[whippings]

[ She's not sure she's able to put a name to this man's face, but if it weren't for the fact that they were all supposed to be working together, she would gladly put a whiplash or two in his back. However, they are, so instead whenever Franziska approaches the coffee machine she is filled with a sense of dread, hoping that that man won't be there.

Today is not her lucky day, however, but for once she tries to draw as little attention to herself as possible as she makes her way towards him.

She's tired and cranky and she just wants her damn coffee. ]

on patrol; anytime, anywhere.

[thatsaflaregun]

[Desmond's never had to do actual patrols before, but he's getting used to them now. He tries to switch up partners and areas to keep an eye on out of boredom and just because the last thing he wants is to fall into a pattern. The hatch taught him one thing- too much routine will drive a man mental faster than isolation will.

Plus, it's an excuse to see the ship without looking like a tourist, even if there's plenty out there unexplored- the parts security doesn't keep people on.

As much as he doesn't want to engage in that mess, knowing it'll just lead to mysteries unsolved and things he doesn't want to get involved in (not again- not after the island), he does have to wonder. There's no cost for curiosity if you don't indulge it, of course.

And he doesn't indulge it. Just keeps to his rounds and socializes and generally tries to make himself useful, as opposed to lazing about moping about what he's still apart from. Some days are better than others.]

heyyyyyy

[bibliophilism]

[It doesn't take long for Michelle to spot Desmond and come running up to him, metal briefcase full of paper and all.]

Desmond!

Open~ all month - prose or action welcome

[learnedtosmile]

On patrol -

[Blake is probably a good patrol partner - he doesn't talk much himself, though he'll answer questions or make conversation as best he can if his partner is down for it. He's got his friendly-neighborhood-beat-cop face down pat, and flashes it at everyone he passes. He makes sure to speak with whoever happens to be around whatever department he's patrolling, just to make sure everything is going okay, and there haven't been any disturbances or thefts or whathaveyou. Polite, respectful, he's basically a boy scout.]

In the gym -

[His work-outs in the 001 gym - the de fecto SEC gym, more or less, though of course anyone can use it - these are the basic things you'd expect to see a guy like Blake doing. Push-ups, sit-ups, some basic strength training and whatnot. Nothing really out of the ordinary going on, but he might need a spotter, and he's usually friendly and willing to make conversation if people want to chat.]

gym;

[the_vishual]

[ When Chase steps in she doesn't smell sweat, she smells hard work--she smells her brother, Sizer, and his enormous arms that he sometimes used to let her swing on if he lifted them in the air.

It wasn't what she was looking for, though--because Sizer, she knew, would never show up on Tranquility. That was a fact she had long since learned to accept. No, today she was looking for one of the Many, for a particular face with light lips, strong hands and a twinkle of idealism in his eye.

The man who saw too much and wasn't ready for what was to come. Not yet. But soon. Chase, above all else, had faith.

And that's exactly why she's handing Blake a towel once he's done his push-ups, smiling thinly, eyes narrowing. Not upset, but concentrating. ]

I thought we could talk a little bit.

Gym!

[jurisimpudent]

[Edgeworth, by contrast, seems completely out-of-place in the gym. He at least works out in his jumpsuit rather than his actual suit, but he looks weird and uncomfortable in those clothes, and he looks at the various exercise machines in the way that one of the Starks might look at a modern tractor - something probably useful but mostly just confusing.

He's not dainty in the way he approaches the gym, exactly. He doesn't pick up the weights like he's afraid he'll scuff up his hands or anything of the sort. It's just always obvious in his manner that he's out of place, and that he knows that he's out of place, and that he knows that he looks perfectly laughable.

He never, of course, talks to anyone else in the gym. This isn't exactly a good thing, because sometimes you need someone else looking out for you - as right then, when he's on his back, lifting just a bit too much weight and suddenly realizes that he's not going to be able to lift the dumbbell up onto the stand again.]

On patrol!

[bibliophilism]

[Michelle doesn't seem at all like the type to be with security; she's humming quietly and walking around with nothing but a metal briefcase. She's even wearing a dress and a cap. But when she sees Blake with his friendly smile, she returns it more brightly, with more ardor.]

Good day.

the gym yo

[astrogate]

[ Kara was hoping to get away from the masses when she slinked off into the gym on floor one (she wasn't exactly a people person). So the moment she spotted the man doing sit-ups, she couldn't help but let out low groan, tossing her towel on one of the treadmills, mumbling towards him in question. ]

You come here all the time?

[ yep, just a bit rude, but whatever. ]

offices; open

[whippings]

[ Now that she can no longer fulfil her needs for human interaction simply by watching the fools on the network, and for want of something else to do, Franziska's been spending more and more time in the SEC office. Indeed, now that she's part of this team, she's attempting to make a more concentrated effort to actually get to know her colleagues. It's something that would certainly come in useful in future. How amiable she is at any particular point in time, however, depends on how much caffeine she has in her system, and her whip is never far from hand, although here aboard the Tranquility, it's more of a comfort thing than a defense thing.

Not that she'd ever admit that. ]

[bibliophilism]

[Michelle is in the offices as well, her briefcase open on a nearby desk as she sorts through the multitude of paper often on hand. When she looks up, she notices Franziska - oh, that woman from the lockers. Michelle couldn't forget that face, especially since it was always accompanied by a whip.

She shuts her metal briefcase with a snap and waves cheerily, calling out:]

Fancy meeting you here!

open!

[angerissues]

on patrol:

[ Mason's picked up a couple more shifts since the numbers on the team seem to have dwindled a bit thanks to the pods, which means he's checking out more of the ship than normal (and doing it more often). It's a good thing he's got better stamina than most. He's generally quiet, even while patrolling with someone else, because it means he's got a better chance of hearing commotion if there is any. ]

gym:

[ When he's not on patrol (and not getting a few hours of sleep a "night"), Mason's generally in the gym. Considering the werewolf side of him, he's got a lot of energy (and anger and aggression) to work off; running gets old after a while and he still hasn't hit up the pool, but working out? It seems to help. He sticks to the first floor gym, like a good portion of the security members seem to, and is generally making good use of a punching bag or weight training. ]

Gym!

[bibliophilism]

[Michelle is close by, shooting targets. But there's something wrong with this picture.

Her bow and arrow are white and are made of paper, and yet she is using them exactly like a real bow and arrow. She lets her arrow fly with an expert hand, and it zooms toward the target. At the precise moment the point makes contact with the bull's eye, the paper arrow falls apart into several sheets fluttering to the base of the target.

And when that happens, she hurries toward her mess, and stretches out her hand toward all the papers, which seem to be drawn straight up her dress sleeve, like a magic trick.]