Melkor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
morgoth) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2014-02-04 08:21 pm
morgoth) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-02-04 08:21 pm
Entry tags:
All that's left are your bones
CHARACTERS: Melkor & More
LOCATION: A kitchen on some floor
WARNINGS: Possibly language?
SUMMARY: Coffee, planning, and possibly boardgames.
NOTES:
So the official invitations mentioned coffee, and in some cases serious discussion, but by the time all arrive to the meeting space, it's been pristinely organized to hold a small crowd: some of the tables and chairs moved, others pushed aside, so that parallel one of the counters (presumably the one nearest the coffee-brewing apparati) is a long row of pushed-together tables.
At its head is Melkor himself, reading on his communicator, looking particularly severe and grim. He'll tuck it into a pocket as others arrive, make polite conversation-- the temperatures, the lack of manticores, the recent debacle with the group attempting to take over the helm--
But when it's clear everyone's assembled (and has a cup of java in hand, most importantly. he'd had enough forethought to go about a few other kitchens, gathering enough cups to meet necessity. his own is pink, and plastered with the cartoonish image of some furry, six-legged animal wearing a bow), he'll rap his knuckles on the tabletop. Firmly enough that all eyes turn towards him in a moment of silence he doesn't waste.
"Some of you are familiar with the recent mission to take control of steering. For those that aren't, a small group accessed the bridge of The Ship, in an effort to steer us towards safe harbor. The Ship has trapped them there, and with the Jump upcoming, it is unlikely that they will be released in time to reach medbay for safety."
"In light of this, and in light of our predicament at large: being hosted here, on this silent, haunted prison, to be driven mad or killed or otherwise left to fade, that I propose that we should continue these efforts to escape... but do so with more united and concerted an effort, with more forethought, and more concern for the nature of The Ship and security of the participants of such an effort." His lips go thin, and he pauses to look them each over.
"For those of you who wish no part in this, I urge you to reconsider. For those who doubt your ability to assist," he lifted his cup, took a slow sip, eyes gleaming like sharp chips of jet behind the thin veil of steam that wafts up before his face, "I assure you that you can do something. But for all of you gathered here, I'd like your opinion. Many of you have been aboard far longer than I, and have the wisdom of experience with The Ship to guide you."
"Beginning around the table, starting at my right," And here he gestured to the one who occupied that spot, "I'd like to hear: do you think it would be more effective for us to solicit outside involvement in out plight? Planting beacons in our wake after every jump, sending signal to whomever might hear, in the hope of attracting rescuers? Or should we attempt again to take fate into our own hands, using methodical attempts and the remote accessibility of the computers to attempt to control the ship's course?"
LOCATION: A kitchen on some floor
WARNINGS: Possibly language?
SUMMARY: Coffee, planning, and possibly boardgames.
NOTES:
So the official invitations mentioned coffee, and in some cases serious discussion, but by the time all arrive to the meeting space, it's been pristinely organized to hold a small crowd: some of the tables and chairs moved, others pushed aside, so that parallel one of the counters (presumably the one nearest the coffee-brewing apparati) is a long row of pushed-together tables.
At its head is Melkor himself, reading on his communicator, looking particularly severe and grim. He'll tuck it into a pocket as others arrive, make polite conversation-- the temperatures, the lack of manticores, the recent debacle with the group attempting to take over the helm--
But when it's clear everyone's assembled (and has a cup of java in hand, most importantly. he'd had enough forethought to go about a few other kitchens, gathering enough cups to meet necessity. his own is pink, and plastered with the cartoonish image of some furry, six-legged animal wearing a bow), he'll rap his knuckles on the tabletop. Firmly enough that all eyes turn towards him in a moment of silence he doesn't waste.
"Some of you are familiar with the recent mission to take control of steering. For those that aren't, a small group accessed the bridge of The Ship, in an effort to steer us towards safe harbor. The Ship has trapped them there, and with the Jump upcoming, it is unlikely that they will be released in time to reach medbay for safety."
"In light of this, and in light of our predicament at large: being hosted here, on this silent, haunted prison, to be driven mad or killed or otherwise left to fade, that I propose that we should continue these efforts to escape... but do so with more united and concerted an effort, with more forethought, and more concern for the nature of The Ship and security of the participants of such an effort." His lips go thin, and he pauses to look them each over.
"For those of you who wish no part in this, I urge you to reconsider. For those who doubt your ability to assist," he lifted his cup, took a slow sip, eyes gleaming like sharp chips of jet behind the thin veil of steam that wafts up before his face, "I assure you that you can do something. But for all of you gathered here, I'd like your opinion. Many of you have been aboard far longer than I, and have the wisdom of experience with The Ship to guide you."
"Beginning around the table, starting at my right," And here he gestured to the one who occupied that spot, "I'd like to hear: do you think it would be more effective for us to solicit outside involvement in out plight? Planting beacons in our wake after every jump, sending signal to whomever might hear, in the hope of attracting rescuers? Or should we attempt again to take fate into our own hands, using methodical attempts and the remote accessibility of the computers to attempt to control the ship's course?"