Time for class! [Open]

[aworldnevermade.livejournal.com]

Messages pushed out on the omnicom network had told everybody interested in Meluly's physics class to meet in the Sensoriums today. A little sign set up just inside the open door of one of the pods—leading to a featureless grassy field with a bright blue sky—indeed confirm that instruction.

But the very interesting thing is that Luly isn't here. Oh, the woman has the same black skin and her own array of different tattoo patterns... but she's obviously a different person. Mid-twenties, maybe—curvier than Luly is, less athletic. Her hair is in its natural grey-black, pulled back into a braid, and she's wearing a sedate outfit with a modest fuzzy grey sweater and green pleated skirt.

Behind her is what looks suspiciously like a full set of model rockets, set up and ready to launch.

"Hello, everyone!" she says, clapping her hands together, once it seems like all or most of the students are assembled.

Sometimes, you just can't stop nerds... [OPEN]

[days-rations.livejournal.com]

Daniel can never, ever, sit on his hands and do nothing. He guesses he kind of like Jack in that respect. But he tries not to think about that too much, it makes him miss his team. Sorely.

This time Daniel is working in the media library, he's searching the parts of the database he can access for something, anything, that could help figure out what, exactly, is going on. On his first research session, it did help narrow his search for answers as well as raise more. Currently he was crossefferencing everything he knew against... well, everything. He tried not to grow to distracted by some of the strange alien languages he came across in the database. But, Daniel being Daniel he ended up skimming through a couple. He took notes as he went then finally back on track, he spoke into his recorder again, "All right. I still can't isolate where this supposed damage to the database is. Hopefully someone else can have more luck with it than I can. Anyway!" He scrolled through more of the information, "There is little to no direct information on this enemy we're supposed to be facing. So I'm no focusing on indirect references. Civilizations fell or died out for no known reason."

PUPPY [open]

[veganthrope.livejournal.com]

There was a dog wandering around through Stacy's hallways.

The observant might have identified her as a Ramtops wolfhound, but that was an unfair qualifying statement since all but one person on the ship did not have any idea where the Ramtops were or what a Ramtops wolfhound looked like. For the uninformed, she looked like a spectacularly well-bred dog, large and sculpted with a beautiful coat of thick golden hair, pointed ears and strikingly human eyes.

She wore a leather collar around her neck. The tag looked bizarrely like a police badge. It read "ANGUA."

The dog seemed to be minding her own business, however, simply sniffing around from hallway to hallway and occasionally stopping to stick her nose a little too close to a crew member for comfort before continuing on her way.

Morning After [Open] [R for Cussing]

[ford-sawyer-815.livejournal.com]

Sawyer emerged from the Vatican the day after the Yeerk Battle--he'd been in the basilica, reclining on a pew with a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pack of Camels, and a copy of The Canterbury Tales when everything went down--and surveyed the damage. A few buildings had been riddled with bullets, there was a large pillar--the one that had been hurled at Ms. Marvel--laying shattered on the ground several hundred yards from where it had originated, and another boulder was blocking the entrance to one of the buildings.

"Well, hot damn, when the folks are away...," Sawyer commented, whistling at the wreck that had been wrought upon the City. "When you people throw a party you really throw a party...."