I long for friendships, but I have long forgotten how to form them. I feel undeserving. I bring people to my bed, constantly, because I am afraid to be alone. I drank when I was able because I was unhappy. I still am. So...so very desperately unhappy. I often speak publicly, on behalf of the Admiral, or to say cruel or scandalous things, because I ( Read more... )

That port, if nothing else, reminded me just how invigorating it can be to stretch one's legs a little, and not in the usual sense. I quite forgot how much I enjoyed the opportunity to display a little open agility somewhere beyond the bedsheets, as it were. It must have been, hmm... Well, before that dreary port with all the large impressive guns ( Read more... )

Well, isn't this quaint. I suppose I can see why the Admiral might have chosen to dock us here. Nothing really drives one to relax so quickly as forcible suspension of disbelief, is there?

I understand the game here is rather unique, however. Would be quite the treat to have a firearm or two, wouldn't it?

(ooc: Changed my mind about having him ( Read more... )

[Private to Merlin]

In a bout of uncharacteristic courtesy I thought that I should inform you that I suspect myself somewhat under the weather and am checking with the Infirmary. Worry not.

[Private to Infirmary Staff]

I seem to be suffering from a strange malady and am therefore seeking medical aid.

[Private to Inmates]

I am seeking intoxicants. ( Read more... )

Denizens of the Barge, I would like to, on behalf of the Admiral, extend his sincerest apologies for the turbulence which led to our last flood, and wish to the lot of you a speedy recovery from your troubles and adventures in that time ( Read more... )

That's really the worst you people could do? It  took five of you.

(ooc: Reaver -- known as 'Stephen' to those he considers himself friends with -- is recovering from a Death Toll. No idea which Wardens killed him, but feel free to plot yourself in if you want)

[Reaver is seated at a table in the library, it looks like. Without angry little people to leap out of the shadows and throttle people for manhandling the books, it seems like a safer place to laze about and avoid doing anything productive whatsoever. He's reclining, booted feet resting on the table while he appears to be leafing through a copy of ( Read more... )

[What appears onscreen here is a snow white mink, with a little tuft of black fur on the end of his tail. He settles on his haunches, sitting up his full, weasel-like height and straightens his fur with his forepaws like he's smoothing a fine suit. When he begins to speak, the expected squeaking does not occur, but rather everyone can perfectly ( Read more... )

Limited civilization involves the wilds, in most cases. The wilds? Means good hunting.

Merlin, we must go hunting or we're wasting the whole experience. Surely, you agree.

Oh I think we've had quite enough complaining to last us a few weeks, haven't we? Inmates on about their Wardens, Wardens on about all else, angry senile old men screeching from their beds...

Would it be at all out of line were I to request a flood? Something to break the monotony?