starlogs | Open!

WHO: April and YOU
WHERE: Various
WHEN: Anywhere between Jan. 4th and Jan. 9th
WHAT: Exploring the ISC Eluvio, meeting peeps, working, etc.
WARNINGS: N/A at the moment. Prose or brackets.

A. Outside the Arrival Chambers
Every once in a while April can be found outside. Others may not take to their arrival as well as she did, it hadn't been her first time being forced onto a space ship after all, and most didn't bother coming back. What reason was there, really?

For her there were plenty of reasons.

She was sitting on one of the benches outside, a leg hanging down and the other on the bench with her. The orientation would be over soon and the freckled redhead looked up, blue eyes showing her hope that one or all of those reasons would walk out the door.

B. Residential Lounge Area, Northside
Taking up the end of one of the larger plush couches, a navy blue one, was a lone April. This one was becoming her perferred place to sit. It was by the bookshelves and near the games. Probably because it reminded her of the home away from home, on earth.

The table next to the arm of the couch had a pile of books and one in her hands. Her legs were crossed and stretched out before her and a small bag of chips were being crunched on as she went from one page to the next. Space Colonization may not be the first choice for some, but April was almost done with it.

As soon as she heard footsteps she asked "Want to read this one?" without even looking up from it.

C. Shopping Centre
A hot pizza box, drink and yellow laptop took up half the table April was at. It may appear that she was simply enjoying lunch, but that'd only be part of the truth. She was also working. When not biting into a slice of pizza she was typing away on her laptop. Except she didn't need to look at what she was typing. More that she was observing those in the shopping center with her.

Blogging was her assigned job, specifically the strange and bizarre. So she was starting with writing about anything or anyone that fit the criteria. Did she just avert her eyes when someone looked at her? Probably.

D. Training Facilities, Ballet Studio. Closed to Yuuri.
The martial arts room was rather packed and April needed to stretch now that she did her usual regimen. After finding herself without a place to do so she made her way to a much emptier facility. It even looked like a simple sparring floor with bars along the walls to stretch on.

Except she wasn't entirely alone. A dark haired young man was using one of those bars to stretch-

"Oh." It clicked. This was a ballet room. She walked over and tilted her head to indicate the spot next to him. "Mind if I join in?" The sleeves of yellow striped black jumpsuit were rolled up and the towel around her neck got used to pat down some sweat off her face.

E. Wildcard
Toss whatever prompt you feel like at me!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Doesn't hurt to ask! It's a service I render, eating the stuff other people don't want to. Food waste is a crime," he says, putting his lunch(es) down in the now-empty space and dropping into a chair. "But as long as you're gonna save that for later I guess you're staying on the right side of the law."

He notices her lower the computer. Maybe she's one of those people who hates when other people look over her shoulder? Whatever, his curiosity is piqued.

"So what kinda work do you do that doesn't allow for a lunch break?"

"Wouldn't want a ticket." How seriously can she take food? Apparently not enough, though she's fairly sure he might have trouble writing anything when his hands are probably permanently occupied by food.

"The important kind."

No. It's not.

April points the crust of her latest pizza slice victim at him. "You ever heard of Strange Sightings, the blogging website?" Why and how they have some kind of internet here is something April's not going to question, she'll simply be thankful for it instead.

Jughead fishes a burger out of a bag, taking a bite and shaking his head. No surprise the name isn't familiar. Blogging's not his thing back home, and it's especially not his thing right now. Who even knew they had internet?

"Never. What's it all about? 'Cause I dunno about you but I'm thinking that everything counts as a strange sighting up here."

It's hard for April to tear her eyes away from the grocery-esque amount of bags he's plopped down, but she does and re-open her laptop.

She does keep the back of her computer mostly to him as she starts writing again. "You can say that again." Only a quip to herself as she starts a new entry on the potential food eating champion of earth being on the ship.

"Informs readers of anything weird or out of the ordinary that's encountered here or even out in space. I just started, but yeah, I'm going with the basics. Just the other that got stuck here like we did could be their own section."

"Yeah?" He chews thoughtfully.

"I guess. I haven't had the chance to talk to a lot of our fellow space hostages. But if they come with their own interstellar ships theeen yeah they totally count as weird."

More chewing. Pause.

"...unless you're one of the ones that came with your own ship in which case that's still weird, but cool as heck."

"Ha. No such luck for a student. I can't really afford to find or buy a spaceship on my allowance."

After a moment's consideration, April puts all but one slice on her paper plate and slides them over his way. Both being nice and seeing if he's actually willing to eat pizza and burger at once. May as well be productive with her work while talking.

"Some of them even look like they're a part of a ship. Or just straight up robots." Her tone grows serious on that note. Alt tabbing to bring up her file so she can have her explanations ready in case he's curious.

Or just bored.

Verdict: He is absolutely willing to eat pizza and a burger at the same time. Jughead shoots her a grateful smile before artfully inserting one slice in between burger and bun. He's beauty, he's grace, it's absurd how much grease he's masterfully shoving in his face.

"Actual robots? Nice. I'm gonna assume they're not the killer kind," he says, swallowing. "Otherwise we'd be in hiding or being used as people batteries. Do you think they have the potential to be killer?"

Even though she's seen more disgusting, this really is the first time she's ever thought of what a slice on a burger might taste like.

Disgusting, probably. ~~Why don't he love himself?~~

"I don't think, I know they do." Her convinced tone last for so long before she adds to her answer, fingers stopping in their typing to hover the keyboard. "The ones that are here? I'm not sure yet. That's something I want to find out without getting shot by a laser or whatever that might be able to shoot."

After all she's been through April errs on the side of caution.

That's a slightly more paranoid answer than he was expecting. Realistic, though! He can respect April's approach to all this. He respects it much more than he respects himself, judging by how quickly he finishes off his pizzaburger.

"How're you going to do that? Sounds like you don't trust 'em enough just to walk up and ask-- hi, nice to meet you, can I have your weapon specifications? Awkward."

There is definitely going to be an article about the bottomless pit inhabiting his stomach.

"Oh-ho, I have my ways." Cryptic, but she's smiling. Most people might have just left so she appreciates the interest. "I'm April O'Neil by the way. What's your name?"

If he says Garbage Disposal she'll be half-surprised at best.

"Forsythe Jones! Friends call me Jughead." Not quite as out there as Garbage Disposal, but still kind of wacky. "Good to meet you, April. Nice to know there are still spunky ace reporter-detective-general investigators in deep space."

Of course his nickname's Jughead, of course. It fits in perfectly with all the sheer amount of wacky nicknames floating around back home.

That's oddly comforting.

"Thanks, Jughead." Still going to take some time time for it to not feel like she's insulting him. "We go where we're needed most. Even if there's not much a choice."

Okay, he's nice. She has to be honest now.

"Mind if I do an article on you? I've only ever seen one other person pack away as much as you have so far, annnnd you kind of have a lot more to go. I'll make it tasteful," Ha! "I promise."

Tasteful. This gal has an excellent sense of humor.

"Sure, if you think that's gonna be interesting to your readers," especially considering they're surrounded by robots and aliens and who knows what else.

"It does feel nice to finally have my talents appreciated for what they are! Finally, I'm where I belong."

"Belong is such a strong word. I mean, it is space."

But she's hardly serious as she finishes off that last crust she's been threatening to do.

"I'll send you a copy before posting it on the blog. Probably won't be done until the end of the week so don't get indigestion or, you know, sucked out into space. Not fun." Almost the voice of experience.

Thankfully it's just 'almost'.

"I'll do my best! Cross my heart, hope not to die horribly in the freezing vacuum of space." He keeps the tone light, but dang. That was a heck of a reminder that this is a terribly dangerous place they've found themselves in.

"You keep out of trouble too, huh? I wanna see my name in print and have something to stick on my space fridge. Can't do that if the article never gets published due to a mysterious and tragic accident that could've easily been avoided!"

Open!

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