Dave Strider (
shenunigans) wrote in
starlogs2017-02-11 10:50 pm
Entry tags:
[open] i'm wishing on the death star
WHO: Dave Strider and OPEN
WHERE: All around Eluvio
WHEN: Various. Present time, mostly.
WHAT: Dave finding his bearings, muddling around and being a nuisance.
WARNINGS: naughty cussing
one: skating.
[Working at a Skateboard store as a clerk has almost little to no perks. People are annoying, nobody knows who Tony Hawk is and he sure as hell didn't sign up for this shit. The one perk Dave has found, is that taking merch from the store is not only allowed, it's encouraged. Why not be a mobile advertisement? What could go wrong?
Of course, Dave doesn't waste time with the snap back caps or the knee pads for toddlers, he just wants the board.
Admittedly, it's been a fucking eon since he legitimately rode one. But it's like riding a bike. Where the break is your foot and your bike is a wooden board that reaches Incredible Speeds. He's rusty enough that he feels self-conscious dicking around in the open. He's found a reasonably secluded part of the ship for practicing and he's picking it all up again pretty fast.
He starts getting cocky, working on tricks. Kick flips, heel flips, grinding, etc. Every so often, he nails it. Every so often, he fucks up spectacularly. God knows at which point someone could possibly happen upon him.]
two: cafeteria.
[The cafeteria is a source of great conflict for Dave. On the one hand, it is a bountiful harvest of delicious food. He's been deprived of decent, palatable food for so long he might as well be at a Lord's banquet every time he steps in there.
On the other hand, a niggling, awkward feeling gets his goat whenever he sees the herds of people in there. It's been so long since he's been around more than five people at a time, it's like he's developed some sort of meteor-deprived agoraphobia. He tries to slink in when there's less people around, but that tends to be difficult.
Dave doesn't realise he's chewing his lip as he looks upon the cafeteria. He has a tray with a large glass of apple juice, three cheeseburgers and an apple pie and a look of determination behind his shades. He scans for an empty table and realises, regretfully, that there isn't one. He'll have to take his chances with sitting at the end of a less occupied table.
He'll slink forward, set his tray on the opposite and furthest side of a table and take a seat. Nope. Not awkward at all.
Fuck man, say something.]
Sup?
three: space view.
[Being in space isn't the strangest part about this ordeal for Dave. He was in space before, assing around on a meteor propelling to some glorious location. The ship is a change, but the thing that bugs him out is the small, near impossible chance that the meteor might actually be in this universe. It's not like he wants to go back. Hell no. He just kind of wishes he could bring some of the contents of that meteor onto the ship.
Now, he's not about to go tug on the captain's sleeve and beg him to keep his eye out for a shitty chunk of rock. Hell, he's not even sure he'll keep the remotest of hopes up. For whatever reason (mostly boredom) he decides to be like the stupid-ass kid who leaves cookies out for santa and starts taping up calling cards.

That ought to do it.]
WHERE: All around Eluvio
WHEN: Various. Present time, mostly.
WHAT: Dave finding his bearings, muddling around and being a nuisance.
WARNINGS: naughty cussing
one: skating.
[Working at a Skateboard store as a clerk has almost little to no perks. People are annoying, nobody knows who Tony Hawk is and he sure as hell didn't sign up for this shit. The one perk Dave has found, is that taking merch from the store is not only allowed, it's encouraged. Why not be a mobile advertisement? What could go wrong?
Of course, Dave doesn't waste time with the snap back caps or the knee pads for toddlers, he just wants the board.
Admittedly, it's been a fucking eon since he legitimately rode one. But it's like riding a bike. Where the break is your foot and your bike is a wooden board that reaches Incredible Speeds. He's rusty enough that he feels self-conscious dicking around in the open. He's found a reasonably secluded part of the ship for practicing and he's picking it all up again pretty fast.
He starts getting cocky, working on tricks. Kick flips, heel flips, grinding, etc. Every so often, he nails it. Every so often, he fucks up spectacularly. God knows at which point someone could possibly happen upon him.]
two: cafeteria.
[The cafeteria is a source of great conflict for Dave. On the one hand, it is a bountiful harvest of delicious food. He's been deprived of decent, palatable food for so long he might as well be at a Lord's banquet every time he steps in there.
On the other hand, a niggling, awkward feeling gets his goat whenever he sees the herds of people in there. It's been so long since he's been around more than five people at a time, it's like he's developed some sort of meteor-deprived agoraphobia. He tries to slink in when there's less people around, but that tends to be difficult.
Dave doesn't realise he's chewing his lip as he looks upon the cafeteria. He has a tray with a large glass of apple juice, three cheeseburgers and an apple pie and a look of determination behind his shades. He scans for an empty table and realises, regretfully, that there isn't one. He'll have to take his chances with sitting at the end of a less occupied table.
He'll slink forward, set his tray on the opposite and furthest side of a table and take a seat. Nope. Not awkward at all.
Fuck man, say something.]
Sup?
three: space view.
[Being in space isn't the strangest part about this ordeal for Dave. He was in space before, assing around on a meteor propelling to some glorious location. The ship is a change, but the thing that bugs him out is the small, near impossible chance that the meteor might actually be in this universe. It's not like he wants to go back. Hell no. He just kind of wishes he could bring some of the contents of that meteor onto the ship.
Now, he's not about to go tug on the captain's sleeve and beg him to keep his eye out for a shitty chunk of rock. Hell, he's not even sure he'll keep the remotest of hopes up. For whatever reason (mostly boredom) he decides to be like the stupid-ass kid who leaves cookies out for santa and starts taping up calling cards.

That ought to do it.]

no subject
Not Eons. Maybe six weeks, myself. I don't think any of the... mm, out of worlders have been here more than a few months.
no subject
Do you think it means anything to be in the first herds? Like, are we the juciest cows in the paddock or is it just randomized? First month you have like, the galaxiest best sharp shooter, the finest pilots in the land and then bam, Snoop Dogg. Then the next round you have the guy who bags groceries at Walmart, the guy who has every "buy one get one free" day at Taco Bell marked on his calendar and a sentient pineapple. Right?
no subject
I don't know. I do know that there are a lot of people back home who are very good at what they do, who aren't here.
no subject
Sounds like they just drew some names from the big, pan-universe hat. It's kind of interesting that there's a significantly higher chance in our lifetime of being taken aboard a massive space ship than there is for us to win the lottery. [It's not really that interesting and he should maybe change the subject. Talk about her or something.]
Do you have lotteries where you're from?