Igraine Member
- Last Seen: 9 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Igraine
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 1282 (0.32 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Igraine 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
I am going to beg you from the bottom of my soul, PLEASE do not center your posts, Blackbeard! PLEASE please please! I swear, I was just talking about this with someone the other day (not in a good way), and I find it extremely difficult to read. Italicize away, bold your dialogue, but I'm begging you to just let the words rest neatly against the left margin *big pleading hopeful eyeballs at you*
All righty hon, that'll be fine - I've got a few things to make happen this weekend, and I'll wait for you to post 
Prisk said
@Igraine, well then, perhaps there will be some tension between the two little birds!
You made me smile this morning, Prisk!
I don't doubt for a moment there will be "tension" there, but perhaps partly because there's no trope that fits John Paul at all, unless you call him a sheepdog. Then again, I usually wind up making most of my characters - one way or another - as sheepdogs, so not necessarily that interesting *shrugs*The day is going wonderfully here Heroes, now that I'm home from my morning appointment and the hour plus one way drive *shudders* BUT, I pray your day is going spectacularly of course, and I'm so excited for the start on Sunday! *cheers*
Such post loveliness, thank you for the reading Heroes and Derren, and I cannot wait to "hear" Hob and OLGA's conversation upcoming!
eta: Dot dearest, will you be posting imminently? If not, I'll move Abby so we can get this interminable lunch moved on to something a bit different ;)
eta: Dot dearest, will you be posting imminently? If not, I'll move Abby so we can get this interminable lunch moved on to something a bit different ;)
In something vaguely resembling an order and such:
Well come now, John Paul may be a maimed, scarred amputee, but he's neither blind, castrated nor dead! If a lovely doctor wishes to examine him again and again, for no reason other than to check out an "interesting specimen?" Psh... Preacher's a great many things, but "stupid" isn't one of them
And Heroes, were you planning to make those security team members Colonial Marines? If so, there could be a member from his form Tactical Group or Division, who'd have either known him or heard of him if nothing else. Of course, if that's too much of a pain? No biggy at all!
Awww... thanks Blackbeard *blushes* But the only reason it was a 60 second off the top of my head thing, is because of years of incessant, ingrained smart-assery. ;)
Prisk said
Haha, so that's how it's going to be, huh? I think Olivia can have some fun with that.
Well come now, John Paul may be a maimed, scarred amputee, but he's neither blind, castrated nor dead! If a lovely doctor wishes to examine him again and again, for no reason other than to check out an "interesting specimen?" Psh... Preacher's a great many things, but "stupid" isn't one of them
And Heroes, were you planning to make those security team members Colonial Marines? If so, there could be a member from his form Tactical Group or Division, who'd have either known him or heard of him if nothing else. Of course, if that's too much of a pain? No biggy at all!
Blackbeard said
See this was fun to read! and I'm sure it was a less than 60 second off the top of your head thing. Whilst I would ponder, 'um' and 'ahh' over this for ages :P
Awww... thanks Blackbeard *blushes* But the only reason it was a 60 second off the top of my head thing, is because of years of incessant, ingrained smart-assery. ;)
I do believe there are a couple others MusketMan, besides yourself, who aren't completely fluent in the Ridley Scott Alien world either. But if you read Heroes' posts at the front of this OOC? You should have a fairly solid footing for the ship Aphelion, some about the Wey-Yu corporation and a few other bits. It would also help a great deal, to see the movies "Prometheus" and "Alien" if you haven't already. I know Heroes was at least joking about making it required viewing. *grins* But anyway, both are excellent films, so it's really not a chore if you haven't and would immerse you more than enough in the world, if the beginning OOC posts here don't.
eta: I do hope that helps - I'm off to bed for real this time
eta: I do hope that helps - I'm off to bed for real this time
Well if she didn't do lovely bucolic watercolor paintings, I'd fear for her blood pressure!
Hi there MusketMan - this is a link to the post with the available positions still open if you'd care to consider one. You'll also find a short CS template and a list of already accepted characters.
And... *pats Serge gently* There there now, I've no doubt a great deal of mayhem will be had, never fear!
And... *pats Serge gently* There there now, I've no doubt a great deal of mayhem will be had, never fear!
"What the hell do you mean he's 'caught,' Mr. Beale?" It wasn't so much her words really, that betrayed the little woman's unspeakable rage, but the deathly quiet way she spoke them: quick, clipped, and barely above a whisper.
"Caught, Major. Locked up like a computer with a nasty virus." The red-haired man in the navy blue jumpsuit looked serenely at the top of the little woman's dark head, taking a single deep breath and letting it out with a long, beleaguered sigh. Harris had warned him about the Major, the new medical officer for Third Shift - and in some pretty colorful language at that. He almost laughed, remembering the laundry list of expletives the Lieutenant had used to describe Major Wilkes-Lane, but caught the guffaw in time to keep it inside, deciding it really wasn't worth making this little pain in the ass angrier than she was already. Technically, she outranked him, and could still make his life uncomfortable is she really put her mind to it. Everything Lieutenant Harris told him about the Major said she'd probably make it a life's mission.
"And you did not think to tell the on-duty medical personnel first." This was a statement of course, and not a question. Hands on her slender hips, Devika glared up into Beale's face, her upper lip curled in a barely perceptible snarl.
"No ma'am, because there's nothing you can do," Beale answered, oblivious to the fact she hadn't really asked him at all. "That tech is dead, brain dead. Sad, but true." The boredom in his voice and the far distance in his eyes actually told her he was anything but, and Devika fought the sudden urge to kneecap the NI engineer. The only thing Mr. Beale didn't do was shrug. That probably saved him, his ability to walk away.
"No, he's not brain dead." Her small hands clenched into small fists at her side, though somehow, some way, she managed to force her visage back into something almost passive. Devika took a deep breath, her hand hovering over the console as she pulled up the display for Sung Pak's brain waves - not that it would tell the NI engineer anything, but she still felt some better confirming her own words.
"He's likely in a coma, a fugue even, but he's not brain dead and we need to get him out of there. I know the band cannot be removed prematurely without frying the temporal lobe." She did not tell Beale that it was Hob who had told her this; she somehow suspected if he knew, he'd have dismissed her out of hand. But as much as she hated to admit it, the NI engineer's words were coalescing into something that was beginning to resemble a cogent thought, and the words were at her lips before she even realized they'd traveled from her brain.
"Why don't we reset him?"
That got Beale's attention. "Reset him, ma'am?" For the first time during this whole encounter, the NI engineer's hazel-green eyes looked down into the dark mahogany eyes of the nurse, the first cold inklings of horror creeping up his spine.
"Reset him, a hard boot so-to-speak, like a computer that's seized up. Pull him out of the tube, but leave all the leads hooked up. Power down his chamber, then reboot, restart the equipment and put him back in long enough to regain consciousness."
'I only pray... '
Those words were spoken with a determined conviction she did not feel in the least, but she spoke them nonetheless. They could not leave Sung Pak as he was, his consciousness glitched into their virtual world, a torturous sight every time the others logged in -
"No." Beale shook his head vehemently, his already pale face turned an unhealthy ashen grey. "No, that's... No. Major, you don't understand, the exquisite sensitivity of the equipment that goes into the creation of those NI tubes. My boss is already going to have a fit when he wakes up, when he hears about those restraints you ordered removed. A complete shutdown, and a start up? That could fry an entire chamber - "
"You don't know that. And did you just tell me 'no?' Really? Mr. Beale, you must be out of your mind." Devika was merciless, pressing her bluff with all the conviction she had in her fiery soul.
"Ma'am, if a chamber is crisped, do you realize the damage that could do to our navigation systems? How important this equipment is just to get us safely through a universe filled with black holes and supernovas and the molten, pressurized cores of innumerable stars?" Beale's hands had fallen to his side, wide open and pleading with the little woman to understand the gravity of what she was asking, the danger she was tossing all the NI chamber equipment.
"Do you realize, Mr. Beale, that our NI techs are dropping like flies? Who knows which one will be horrifically injured next?" Deep brown eyes full of misery and suspicion and yes, even rage, flashed through her thoughts, her heart sinking with the thought of yet another sorrow added to the dead weight he already carried. Devika steeled herself. She had to do this, for him at the very least. She had to, for Hob.
"Or when? A day from now? A week? A year? We've only got just so many of these people left to us Mr. Beale, and we are only in the third year of our fifteen year journey! At this rate there will not be a single one left to see us to New Canaan. Your equipment is expensive as hell, no doubt. But those NI techs? They're the priceless ones."
"And so you, Mr. Beale, are going to follow my direct orders, this very minute. I am the Chief Medical Officer here, my purview falls over these NI techs and their health - and if I have to? I will have First Sergeant Larson and her MPs escort you out of here, and I'll replace you with someone who actually can follow a direct order. Do you understand me, Mr. Beale? If this man dies because you refused every measure at hand? I will make it my personal mission to see you court-martialed for dereliction of duty, and involuntary manslaughter. I promise you that."
There was a veritable mountain of bluff and bullshit in Devika's words, but the diminutive woman had long since learned that whatever she might lack in height, could easily be made up for in conviction, determination and sheer audacious presence. And she smiled - inwardly, of course - as the NI engineer's face went from grey to a very satisfactory shade of green.
"Caught, Major. Locked up like a computer with a nasty virus." The red-haired man in the navy blue jumpsuit looked serenely at the top of the little woman's dark head, taking a single deep breath and letting it out with a long, beleaguered sigh. Harris had warned him about the Major, the new medical officer for Third Shift - and in some pretty colorful language at that. He almost laughed, remembering the laundry list of expletives the Lieutenant had used to describe Major Wilkes-Lane, but caught the guffaw in time to keep it inside, deciding it really wasn't worth making this little pain in the ass angrier than she was already. Technically, she outranked him, and could still make his life uncomfortable is she really put her mind to it. Everything Lieutenant Harris told him about the Major said she'd probably make it a life's mission.
"And you did not think to tell the on-duty medical personnel first." This was a statement of course, and not a question. Hands on her slender hips, Devika glared up into Beale's face, her upper lip curled in a barely perceptible snarl.
"No ma'am, because there's nothing you can do," Beale answered, oblivious to the fact she hadn't really asked him at all. "That tech is dead, brain dead. Sad, but true." The boredom in his voice and the far distance in his eyes actually told her he was anything but, and Devika fought the sudden urge to kneecap the NI engineer. The only thing Mr. Beale didn't do was shrug. That probably saved him, his ability to walk away.
"No, he's not brain dead." Her small hands clenched into small fists at her side, though somehow, some way, she managed to force her visage back into something almost passive. Devika took a deep breath, her hand hovering over the console as she pulled up the display for Sung Pak's brain waves - not that it would tell the NI engineer anything, but she still felt some better confirming her own words.
"He's likely in a coma, a fugue even, but he's not brain dead and we need to get him out of there. I know the band cannot be removed prematurely without frying the temporal lobe." She did not tell Beale that it was Hob who had told her this; she somehow suspected if he knew, he'd have dismissed her out of hand. But as much as she hated to admit it, the NI engineer's words were coalescing into something that was beginning to resemble a cogent thought, and the words were at her lips before she even realized they'd traveled from her brain.
"Why don't we reset him?"
That got Beale's attention. "Reset him, ma'am?" For the first time during this whole encounter, the NI engineer's hazel-green eyes looked down into the dark mahogany eyes of the nurse, the first cold inklings of horror creeping up his spine.
"Reset him, a hard boot so-to-speak, like a computer that's seized up. Pull him out of the tube, but leave all the leads hooked up. Power down his chamber, then reboot, restart the equipment and put him back in long enough to regain consciousness."
'I only pray... '
Those words were spoken with a determined conviction she did not feel in the least, but she spoke them nonetheless. They could not leave Sung Pak as he was, his consciousness glitched into their virtual world, a torturous sight every time the others logged in -
"No." Beale shook his head vehemently, his already pale face turned an unhealthy ashen grey. "No, that's... No. Major, you don't understand, the exquisite sensitivity of the equipment that goes into the creation of those NI tubes. My boss is already going to have a fit when he wakes up, when he hears about those restraints you ordered removed. A complete shutdown, and a start up? That could fry an entire chamber - "
"You don't know that. And did you just tell me 'no?' Really? Mr. Beale, you must be out of your mind." Devika was merciless, pressing her bluff with all the conviction she had in her fiery soul.
"Ma'am, if a chamber is crisped, do you realize the damage that could do to our navigation systems? How important this equipment is just to get us safely through a universe filled with black holes and supernovas and the molten, pressurized cores of innumerable stars?" Beale's hands had fallen to his side, wide open and pleading with the little woman to understand the gravity of what she was asking, the danger she was tossing all the NI chamber equipment.
"Do you realize, Mr. Beale, that our NI techs are dropping like flies? Who knows which one will be horrifically injured next?" Deep brown eyes full of misery and suspicion and yes, even rage, flashed through her thoughts, her heart sinking with the thought of yet another sorrow added to the dead weight he already carried. Devika steeled herself. She had to do this, for him at the very least. She had to, for Hob.
"Or when? A day from now? A week? A year? We've only got just so many of these people left to us Mr. Beale, and we are only in the third year of our fifteen year journey! At this rate there will not be a single one left to see us to New Canaan. Your equipment is expensive as hell, no doubt. But those NI techs? They're the priceless ones."
"And so you, Mr. Beale, are going to follow my direct orders, this very minute. I am the Chief Medical Officer here, my purview falls over these NI techs and their health - and if I have to? I will have First Sergeant Larson and her MPs escort you out of here, and I'll replace you with someone who actually can follow a direct order. Do you understand me, Mr. Beale? If this man dies because you refused every measure at hand? I will make it my personal mission to see you court-martialed for dereliction of duty, and involuntary manslaughter. I promise you that."
There was a veritable mountain of bluff and bullshit in Devika's words, but the diminutive woman had long since learned that whatever she might lack in height, could easily be made up for in conviction, determination and sheer audacious presence. And she smiled - inwardly, of course - as the NI engineer's face went from grey to a very satisfactory shade of green.
The New Yorker said
I think we all should
You first!
And see Serge? Now you've got Blackbeard being all obliging too! *grins*
© 2007-2024