rememory: (ghost-winds)
[personal profile] rememory
No sooner had Hawk escorted Sabine and Scott off QXJldGh1c2E=, formerly the Arethusa, than the spirits of her dead swarmed from the ship en masse. More than 150 angry, confused, and frightened spirits unleashed upon Sanctuary with no way to return to their homes, no way to find their rest, unless they could communicate with the living.

A small group, persuaded by Sabine's familiars, huddled close to her and jostled for her attention. The remainder, goaded by one particularly malicious spirit called Mara, "ran" amok on the station. Most of them could muster little more force than a cold spot, a rustle of fabric, a flicker at the corner of the eye. Some managed greater feats like telekinesis, moving small objects from one place to another, in an effort to gain attention, or if they were mean-spirited they might pull a chair out from under someone going to sit, or stretch a rope in front of someone not watching where they were walking. A small number who retained more of their intellectual faculties or had a particularly pressing bit of business wrote REDRUM or their own equivalents in steam or sand or spilled sugar. A very few, including Mara, took possession of unlucky human hosts and bent them to their will.

In all, the effect was not so very grand that it was inescapable. Certainly there were those on the station who remained unaware, and were left blissfully alone. Alas, those who talked to Sabine in the days following QXJldGh1c2E='s arrival were rarely so lucky. And Sabine herself spent seven-eighths of every day tracking down spirits, talking them down, laying them where possible even if it meant finding a way to finish their business, and chasing spirits out of their hosts. All except Mara stayed disembodied once they'd been rooted out. But Mara, who personified evil in Hindu and whose name meant bitterness in Hebrew, simply fled one host for the next, resisting Sabine on every level and when she came too close, bidding other ghosts to distract her.

So it was that on any given afternoon or evening (as morning tended to banish them), wherever a group of people gathered, so too might a group of spirits.

[ooc: Feel free to post your possessed characters here, or in individual EPs as you like. Also, if you're not being possessed but you want to have some kind of a ghost encounter, here's a place. You can play the ghosts if you want, or if you want someone else to, just "tag Ghost" and I'll write them for you. BACKDATED: takes place from July 9 thru today. All tags welcome; open indefinitely.]

On The Job

Jul. 3rd, 2016 08:57 pm
cpt_harkness: (Melty)
[personal profile] cpt_harkness
Jack was not one to sit around idle and so one of the first things he'd done after acquainting himself with the station was to find himself employment. He'd be damned if he was going to subsist on goo cubes and he liked the freedom more credits allowed. So he had found work as a maintenance tech and every day he was dispatched to different parts of the station to check couplings, to repair circuits, to do general upkeep...and there was always the loathesome task of pest removal.

There was none of that today, thankfully. Just Jack diging around inside a panel to make sure the motherboard that controlled the lights in this sector was in good working order. That took him mere minutes and then he put the panel back in place, picked up his tool kit, and began to move on.

He moved on straight to the common area of this level so he could get himself a cup of tea and a piece of fruit. He was addicted to the sweet hydropinic lobed fruits that he'd bought upon arrival. He ate one every day.

Jack put his tool kit on a table and settled in with his snack, smiling at the first person who met his gaze.

"Hello," he said, one word laced with so much promise that it was so much more than a simple greeting.
acceptedmewithasmile: (worried)
[personal profile] acceptedmewithasmile
Miia was frightened.

It wasn't a good feeling. For every scary thing that had happened to her since coming to Japan, none had truly rendered her as afraid as being boxed into a small room, a synthetic voice telling her she couldn't go home. At first she had thought she was being deported, and for what crime she didn't know. Ms. Smith surely would have come for her if that was the case, and her Darling would have fought for her, but as much as she called out...

As much as she called out, or banged her fists on the door, or beat her tail against the floor, Darling didn't come. Her love wasn't rescuing her in a blaze of gallant glory as he had when Draco had forced their advances on her, or when that terrible couple had harassed her, or when she had nearly drowned in Mero's pool.

He wasn't coming. He had to come for her, but he wasn't.

If she hadn't believed in him so strongly, it would have felt like a betrayal.

The most frustrating part was knowing the other girls were with him somewhere. Papi and her childish charm, Centorea and her quiet nobility, Mero and her subtle sensuality. They were with him and she wasn't, and if she wasn't there he may pick one of them as his bride. It made her teeth bare and her scales itch at the thought. She loved him the most, she was his first guest, she was the one who deserved to marry him.

By the time the door opened she had worked herself up into such a jealous frenzy that she nearly flew from her little prison, ignoring the little bits of machinery she had been instructed to take. She slid down corridors, thumped her tail in irritation over every second that passed in the elevator, and when the door slid open she all but bulleted down the next hallway, careless of where she was going.

No matter what that stupid voice said, she needed to find her Darling. And she needed to find him now.

[Miia has arrived, but is in some pretty strong denial. Find her anywhere on the station, frantically searching for the love of her life.]
ice_tomeetyou: (Miss me?)
[personal profile] ice_tomeetyou
Leonard Snart had seen a lot in the last few years. First Barry and his speed, causing so many problems in Central City (and at least two trips to prison he could have done without), then the Waverider and the time travelling part of it. Truly, waking up after his fight with Mick into a strange place, where he was told he was in 'quarantine'? He was at the stage of shrugging and just rolling with it.

He absorbed as much as he could about his new surroundings in the time in quarantine. After all, what was the point in wasting it? Maps, general information about who was there, anything was devoured in an attempt to make the best of it. Because he was so good at it, and all this was was somewhere new to rob blind.

His bruises had pretty much faded by the time they opened the door. That was fine. The outfit was basic, but then, it was most of the time. He could deal. It wouldn't take long to find some decent clothes.

With his usual swagger in place, and a faint half smile plastered on, Captain Cold stepped out into the main area, surveying his surroundings. It may look like he was being casual about it, but he was taking every single thing in. First order of business - explore every single square inch of this place that he could. Firstly to check for hidey holes that could be used; secondly to check that they were truly stuck here; thirdly... there was bound to be something to steal. The technology was beyond anything even on the Waverider. Fencing it could be more of a problem, but it was nothing he hadn't worked with before. Was there a black market in place? If not, it could be a great little sideline.

Opportunities. That's what he had. If he was away from his friends (and who knew who was actually his friend right now), opportunities was the next best thing.

[Len's in full on charm mode right now. He's as approachable and as curious as he ever will be.]
malachai: (big smirk)
[personal profile] malachai
Nick remembered when he first showed up at the strip club on the island. He'd made it very clear that he could work in the jazz club, but going anywhere near the upstairs portion of the place was not going to happen. Being around them, the whole atmosphere, had just reminded him too much of the mother he'd lost - the mother who'd been murdered the night he'd died the first time.

Now, he thought, here he stood, once more in need of a job and finding one at a strip club. Maybe he was finally moving on from losing her...no, there was no maybe about it. He had moved past the shattering grief. He'd known it when he first walked in and felt nothing more than a bittersweet nostalgia. There was no sense whatsoever of the sadness, or the rage, that had once haunted him.

Then again, it could very well have been that none of the strippers had been humanoid.

So now here he sat in front of one of Sanctuary's strip joints, seated in the bouncer chair designed to keep him on hand if anyone got rowdy out front but still be able to get into the club quickly if rowdy decided to visit the stage or attempt to get into the dressing rooms.

He listened to the barker out on the main thoroughfare, passing out flyers and trying to drum up business, and thanked the gods that he knew how to fight so he was saved having to take that job. Who was he kidding, he'd have worked the trash haulers before he took that one.

To pass the time, he kept an eye out for other humans, or human-like aliens, trying to place the faces. And, if he was honest, stared pretty intently at the aliens, too. He just hoped if he stumbled across a Klingon or Cardassian he could keep his geek in check and not get himself beat up for being an idiot about meeting them.

Find Nick either sitting just inside the strip club (visible if your character is just walking by) or on his break and standing out on the main walk in front of the club on a bench, people and alien watching.
cora_hale: (Straightface)
[personal profile] cora_hale
Cora had been on this...this space station for a day and it'd been one of the weirdest days of her life.

First she'd gone to sleep in her comfy room in the pack-house, only to wake up trapped in some kind of weird quarantine cell. That'd been an awesome experience. Nothing like being stripped out of your own clothes, put into a set of scrubs - and if she ever found out who'd done that she was going to take great pleasure in ripping off their fingers - and left trapped like a rat in a lab while being driven slowly insane with a recorded message.

Then, when whoever was in charge of this place had finally opened the door to her cell, Cora had stalked out into the main area outside only to be confronted with an honest to god, actual alien.

She hadn't meant to meet any aliens at all, but she'd been staring up at the vast ceiling when she managed to walk bodily into the hulking, heavily scaled creature, been scared stupid, screamed and let her fangs drop which in turn scared the creature who then started to make a weird keening noise which was apparently its species distress call by virtue of a dozen seriously pissed off people all chasing her out of the area she'd just walked into.

Cora had run at full tilt down random corridors, taking turn after turn to lose the mob, eventually holing up in some kind of marketplace behind some foul smelling tanks. She'd watched her pursuers go running past and then took off in the other direction, not stopping until she reached a quiet area away from everything.

The small freak out she'd had while she was tucked into an alcove in that deserted place had left her exhausted and it was all she could do to haul herself to her assigned quarters and collapse into the small but functional bed.

Now it was morning on the second day and she felt a little better. Her original nightclothes had apparently been washed and stored neatly in closet in her little apartment. She was grateful for that at least. Something familiar. Something home. Booty shorts were probably not the best exploring clothes, she conceded, but the tank top would work and she slipped it on, tying the drawstrings on her standard issue scrub pants.

She grabbed the little comms thing and the tablet and stashed them in her pockets before setting out to explore the place she was apparently stuck in for the near future.


[OOC: Find Cora out and about on the station exploring. She's going to be on her guard but she won't be unapproachable. Open forever!]
rememory: (mischievous)
[personal profile] rememory
To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To reach the unreachable staaaaaaaaaar....


From the kitchen that she'd designated as the focal point for de and reconstruction, Sabine barked, "Mimi!" and then choked out a laugh that was half a sob. Man of La Mancha had always been one of Byron's favorite musicals.

"What? You can't build without music and you don't have a boombox!"

"No one has a boombox anymore. Don't make me regret manifesting you." She shook a finger at the showgirl ghost who was lounging on the back of the couch like it was a baby grand.

Unrepentant, Mimi went on singing,

To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star
.

"I love that line, don't you?" Mimi teased not just Sabine but Scott, even though he was out of earshot.

"Zip it, or it's Tsura's turn," Sabine snapped, cringing at the reference to their chaste, but far less than pure love.

"What was that?" Scott emerged from the next-door apartment through the hole he'd put between them to make testing the walls for support beams easier. There were two more like it in the filthy foursquare they'd chosen to turn into a community area -- for the time being.

"Nothing. Mimi was just asking your favorite musical so she could sing for you. Isn't that right, Mimi?" Mind-to-ghost she sent #Don't even contradict me.# Forbidding it with power was the simplest of her abilities, but Sabine didn't abridge her free will.

Mimi just laughed and laughed, sticking to Impossible Dream until the next person joined them Then she started in on songs from Annie:

It's a hard knock life for us!
It's a hard knock life for us!


Sighing, Sabine shot Scott and the newcomer an apologetic look then shrugged helplessly. "It's not like she's wrong."

[ooc: Gathering post! Sabine and Scott are clearing out a group of four apartments to start with to make a communal kitchen, dining, sitting area on level D. Mimi is audible and vaguely visible as a holographic figure of a showgirl with an indistinct face. She won't interact unless you ping me and ask for her. Will, Molly, Marie, Jack, Sebastian, Nick, Porthos, Maggie, all got a message inviting them for potluck and construction. Anyone else can have heard from them or have seen the 'excuse our dust' sign and stop by. Feel free; all are welcome. Tag Sabine with a note in the subject line; all other tags are top levels.]
tenthlife: (Default)
[personal profile] tenthlife
Every time it seemed I had a handle on my tenth life, my eyes would close and I'd wake up in another world. I’d awakened in many new lives, opened new eyes on new worlds and I’d had to acclimate. I’d adjusted to new sights and sounds, to blindness, to lack of mobility, to cold, analytical thoughts and then, finally, to the bright, vivid, and emotional world of humans.
 
Earth had been the first time I’d opened my eyes into a new body of the same species. It had been almost as disconcerting as adjusting to a new species, and in some ways it had been even more challenging. Rather than a new type of body, I’d had to accept that the body I had wasn’t able to do the same things and had different reactions. Would it have been easier for me if I’d awakened in this body in the caves, surrounded by my human friends? Maybe, or maybe not. I had no way of knowing for sure. It also didn’t change anything. I spent a year on an island with a different family of humans, in a place where no one had ever heard of souls, knew nothing of our invasion, and treated me not like a monster but like another oddity in a place filled with them. And now, I was in another that appeared, for all intents, to be a spaceport. The star field outside its windows was one that I'd never seen before. Not in ten lives, or countless trips across thousands of light years.
 
Whether that meant anything or not, I couldn't say. It wasn't as if I was conscious on my journeys through space from one life to another. I could have passed this station several times and I'd never have known it. For me, it was just another experience to add into countless others I'd had as a human, much more than any soul had ever had, I was sure.
 
Odder still to find a friend here among the residents of this space station - not another soul, thankfully - but one from the island. Nick and I had been friends and being able to talk to him again here had helped at least answer some questions and having that touchstone settled me here faster than anything else had.

Now I got up from where I’d been sitting and pondering the stars overhead and made my way to a railing that overlooked a commerce center. I had decisions to make about what to do with myself here. I had no skills, at least none that would mean anything on a spaceport, and while I knew now I could survive on the sustenance that came from the replicators, it left a lot to be desired for taste.

“And I’m frankly tired of food that serves nutritional needs only,” I said to no one in particular.

Find Wanderer anywhere in the station, looking over a railing. One thing to note is her eyes - there is a silver circle of light around the pupil and if a light hits her eyes, that light will reflect back out.
sanctuaryrpgmods: (Default)
[personal profile] sanctuaryrpgmods
There were no flashing lights, no alarms. The doors to the quarantine chambers simply opened, the whoosh of seals breaking was the only fanfare.

Quarantine was on a quiet level of the station, a gently pulsing light set into the wall leading the chamber's temporary residents out into the station proper. Outside, station officials wandered by but paid no particular attention to the newcomers; new arrivals were nothing new to them, just a fact of life on Sanctuary. New people arrived in the chambers, station staff logged them, and the computers arranged everything else. So they went about their business, eyes glued to the screens they held.

Of course the newcomers weren't aware of any of this. Anyone who called out to the station staff was greeted with a wan smile and directed toward one of the many terminal screens lining the walls of the large open space between the central tower and the rest of the station.

The terminal screens asked for a fingerprint before offering any additional information. Their names flashed up with a map to their new home in the living quarters and some basic information on the currency contained in the chip in their hand and what it might buy them. A brief explanation of the silver communication unit followed, and then the news of the past twenty-four hours played. War on planets in a neighbouring system, the weather on a vacation world, sports scores for a game that seems a cross between lacrosse, hockey, and quidditch. Nothing of use, of course, nothing that could get them off the planet.

The quiet entrance to the living quarters was on one side of the atrium, and the sounds of a bustling marketplace that could not be contained came from a much wider opening on the other. People of all shapes, colours, and species walked through the space along with station officials and technicians using their tablet like screens, dark uniformed security officers chatting as they strolled their patrols.

The station carried on obliviously while the newcomers watched, each with only their credit chip, a place to live, and a basic outfit. Clearly that was all the welcome they were to expect; what happened next would be up to them.

[[Gathering post and opening of Sanctuary RPG. Put in your characters coming out their quarantine]]

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