#ship-status

send me a 🍒 + an url for positivity [accepting]

@ship-status​ said:  🍒🍒🍒 for whoever you want !! surprise some people with positivity :D

I choose: @42piece​ @marblewon​ and @slayersaided​ :p

;; first up- Roxette! I was really blown away when you first followed me back. Your writing and graphics are top tier, and I was pleasantly surprised how easily our writing styles mesh together. You do a great job continuing the plot and making it easy to keep a thread flowing. I’m excited to write with your Ten over on your multi too ;p

second- Darby! You’re so funny. I laugh whenever I read your tags or when we talk. Your reactions to media and writing are what I wish I could properly say aloud. Your love for Sae-byeok shines so brilliantly in everything you do on your blog, and I’m so grateful we’re friends. She’s your OC now. Everything you write, I’ll read. (esp. what you have rn with rox’s tomie... wow 😲)

@ship-status // new skin, old dog

Oliver— or Oxen, or whoever he was now— breathed in shakily at the question. Not that he needed to breathe any more than he needed to shut his eyes to think; still, he did so in some attempt to keep the humanity he once again had.

"...is there anything I could say that wouldn't be so cheap? What phrase can undo the countless lives I crushed into stardust? The countless worlds that are no more?" The puppet managed to say in a low, strained voice. He hid himself in the dark of some world's alley, unsure where to go. The puppet's feet shuffled as he stared down at his leather, porcelain hands.

" I know I haven't been the best at keeping track of time, but I did manage to mark off some important dates, and, well, it seemed odd to bypass this one without doing anything ... " Drawing a small box from his pocket, he held it out to Morgan. " It's small, but ... Happy Valentine's Day, Captain. "

Said box, as small and unassuming as it was, contained some glass that Atlas had managed to warp into the shape of a crescent moon. Left clear at one end and tainted yellow at the other, the colours ( or lack thereof ) faded together, creating a shining shadow if the trinket were to be hung near a light source ... the perfect decoration for a window once the colony was soundly set up.

Being stuck in an infinite loop of the same twelve to twenty-four hours -to the surprise of absolutely no one- fucked up with a person's perception of time. January had barely felt like it happened, and now it was February? What the shit? Time chugging along as it was supposed to granted progress, which granted peace. Finally, finally Morgan could breathe, confident in the fact that, somehow, they had managed to fix everything.

Hot chocolate infused with strawberry flavoring was the drink of choice as they lounged in their cabin, skimming over progress and botanical reports from down on the planet's surface. Atlas' almost meek greeting shook them out of their reverie. In a way, it was a relief that Atlas was having the same problems with time keeping as they were (was it selfish to think that way?). Unlike Morgan, however, he seemed to actually pay attention to holidays. Shit, they had barely even registered it when Mack wished them a Very Happy Birthday Slash Valentine's Day with enough saccharine sweetness to make anyone else's teeth ache. In stark contrast, the gift Atlas had presented was... stunning. Morgan's mouth fell open in a silent gasp as they held it up to the florescent lighting. The artificial light of the ship absolutely did not do it justice. Morgan's heart leapt into their throat. Since when did Atlas know how to blow, stain and shape glass? Had they even bothered to ask what his hobbies were? Surely, their eccentric-but-still brilliant Head Engineer had passions outside of designing and building starships. "I love it," Morgan signed, barely not to let the trinket slip out of their hands. They held up a finger and ducked back into their office, digging through drawers until they found what they had been looking for: a simple macrame dreamcatcher done in stark white thread. The tree of life pattern wasn't anything particularly elaborate, nor was the twisting, lace-like knotwork dangling from the bottom curve of the hoop. They had started it after hearing Atlas wake up screaming from a nightmare one night, and had been planning on giving it to him. A way to tell him that Morgan was thinking about him.

@ship-status // oxen’s prowl

“Rest.” Oxen stated. It lacked the usual bite and smugness of his usual remarks, and when he turned to take a glance at you, no smirk is to be seen. He flicked his lighter on and stared at the flame, silent for a time. You almost thought that he was finished, but then he spoke again, still solemn and low in his words.

“The story will finally be undone, or finished, or whatever you’d call it. The monsters put to sleep, the victims avenged. And then I’ll be no more… rest.” The marionette of a man closed the lid of the lighter, making the manor’s office go dark. Dawn’s light barely peeked in through the window. His face dropped into a deeper frown as he contemplated. Despite the inhuman perfectness of his features, the shadows jaggedly make him look much older than the attorney did when he was alive.

Oxen glanced over back at you with a complex expression, his lips downturned but his fake eyes alight with something. “There’s something I learned that I think you should know: the point of our lives is to rest, writer. Once we’ve done what we were made for, we should sit down and be left to just exist. It’s a reward, truly…

@ship-status // oxen's prowl

Oxen flicked his lighter a few times, looking disinterested in what you had to say. He managed to keep a flame after another flick, his glassy eyes glinting with the dancing light in the darkness of the void.

"Truthfully, I don't care. My only concern is dealing with the rats of my story, not whatever happens to the other countless stories. If their characters get in my way, they'll be destroyed anyway." Oxen chuckled. He moved a finger over the very tip of the fire. It licked at his leather fingertip painlessly, and the puppet sighed and pulled the finger away.

"If this whole thing falls apart, then my job is done, writer. If it doesn't... then I keep going." Oxen flicked the lighter shut, plunging the both of you into darkness. His voice is loud and smug in the inky quiet.

@ship-status // the misplaced attorney

The ex-attorney looked over his shoulder at you, raising a brow. Oliver relaxed and turned to face you completely, dressed in a wooly black trench-coat and green scarf. This universe has seemingly made him into an accomplice for a murderer named Murdock, but it didn’t change his morals to fit the roll. At least, not that he could tell.

‘i guess i have a few from the universes before this one. there’s not many for here, with Murdock’s line of... work, i guess he’d call it.’ He signed, sighing and his breath comes out in a swirl of white. It was always cold in the little town he currently resided in, leaving the hot-natured man always just too cold. He missed the warmth of his little cottage.

‘there was this one time i ended up in a prison... that was a fun few months. that universe is probably still looking for me in that frame of time. anyway, there was this one guy named Yancy who saved me from getting my lights knocked out by another jailbird. cool cat, despite his situation... strange tattoos though. he never did say what they were for.

‘oh, and in another universe, i was apparently the accomplice of this really big thief. it... kind of bleeds together after a while. i think that was the one where we almost got stranded on an island?’ Oliver shook his head, face crinkled in uncertainty. ‘i don’t know, truly.’

@ship-status // the district attorney

Now that was a complex question. Oliver paused in his writing, pen hovering over the legal document he was writing up for review. He leaned back in his seat, pen discarded for now. There were a lot of things he loved about his politician friend. Sure, they had been friends since he was young boy, and they were much closer since his return from overseas, but that couldn’t encompass everything he thought about the mayor.

Oliver glanced up and considered what he could even start. ‘there’s so much to say. to start, i guess, the fact that the mayor’s been my rock since we became friends... even more so since my return. they actually pushed me to pursue law. it’s been rough, but there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for them. i can’t thank them enough for all they’ve done for me...’

@ship-status // the district attorney

Oliver smiled, waving you over to a place by the roses and gardenias. It’s a little spot with some shade and sun, and in the secluded place between the two flowerbeds, there was a flannel blanket laying out. On it was a book, something fictional about cowboys, considering the horse outline on the spine.