thegalley_tlv | Recent Entries

[Starting sometime on the 29th and throughout the 31st, changes begin on each of the volunteer barges that have taken on new passengers.

On the Galley, the following effects are observed:

Little yellow emergency lights flick on in all hallways.

an extra day's worth of food supplies appears in the Crew Mess.

The locks to all previously Advocate-locked areas begin working again (so a key will be needed to access the the Crew Mess.)

The air and gravity disturbances stop, although electricity, water, and temperature are still unreliable.

Prisoners making off-Galley excursions find themselves weakening and being pulled back to the ship sooner and sooner.

Additionally, the Judge's voice crackles back to life after long silence.]

AKIRA KURUSU AND GORO AKECHI HAVE BEEN EXECUTED FOR SEDITION.

[There's no accompanying video this time, but the two of them also are nowhere to be found.]

ALL PRISONERS AND ADVOCATES SHOULD REMEMBER THAT REPORTING CRIMINAL ACTIVITY CARRIES WITH IT CONCOMITANT REDUCTION OF THEIR OWN TERM OF SERVICE OR SENTENCE RESPECTIVELY. THIS REDUCTION WILL BE TRIPLED FOR ALL REPORTS OF SEDITION CONDUCTED IN THE LAST WEEK. ANY ADVOCATES DEMOTED DURING THESE EXCEPTIONAL CIRCUMSTANCES MAY BE ELIGIBLE FOR A ONE-TIME-ONLY REINSTATEMENT IF THEY DEMONSTRATE FULL COOPERATION.

[The doors of the Courtroom stand open once again. The Gavel is nowhere to be seen - unless someone takes the Judge up on this tempting offer, in which case the Gavel appears, just for a few seconds, during the moment of Sentencing.]

questionsonly

WHO: Warren and you
WHAT: Warren's going to do what he does best: get working
WHERE: crashlanded Galley
WHEN: end of August
NOTES: No warnings to begin with. If you'd like a starter, or to plot for something, feel free to ping me on plurk @ yarnzipan

With everything going on on the Galley, all the loses, all the punishments, he's been keeping an eye out for a moment when he could perhaps do his part'; he's a secret agent, but most of those avenues are magical. He can do plenty... but he doesn't have 'powers' like some people that can explode helpfully past the restrictions of this place. However, all that changes when Sariss's last message sends the ship crashlanding into a darkened hellscape.

The boat, and it's Captain, is no longer a problem. Instead, they're down to the really important parts: surviving. Surviving until he can get back to the people who matter. And making sure that the other people here survive too.

His first stop is the kitchens to see what's on hand and what can be stretched. If there's anyone there from the Barge, he'll see if he can convince them to look after the food, to keep things at least nominally under control. The crew mess is next to do the same, and he starts making plans given there's no telling how long the 'electricity' will hold out.

Then he's hunting around the decks to see if he can find his people, Bargizens of all shapes and stripes. He wants to get them collected, wants to get them working together. He knows they know how to do it, unlike these Galley folk who he doesn't trust until he sees some work out of them but he'll happily talk to the Galley folk, Advocate or prisoner who seem keen to band together and work on their survival.

Then it's testing things out, which he'll be interested in doing with any Bargizen (or Galleymate) he trusts, between Advocates and prisoners: can they leave, what's the effects, how safe is it? He himself will be careful venturing outside the ship and given his senses, he'll skip any light source as being more dangerous than it's worth. His first priority, however, is seeking if he can find the materials for clay and possible food sources; shelter seems set for now.

Despite the fact that he's been careful not to show his powers to anyone on board before now, he's as often to be found in fur as on two legs when he heads out on an expedition. He's not seeking out new landscapes and exploring for the hell of it: he's going to be going on supply runs once he finds out sources and asking people to come with him.

One day, he'll tire of being competent. One day. Right now, he doesn't have the luxury.

blindmanforhire

[ the ship's system is static and hissing, but he still will do his best to send this out. ]

...fucked it up pretty good... eads up don't go out... what I see ain't worth...

Ucking shit....!

thejudge_tlv

[At the same instant the video message cuts out, the whole ship shudders like the ground is in an earthquake. Those closer to the lower levels and the Courtroom will feel their ears pop - or worse - as the pressure wave of the detonation blasts irregularly through the Galley's strange geometry.

With a terrible cracking thunder like a whole series of sonic booms, the Galley starts to shake, spinning and dragging and veering through the ether. Anyone on deck will need to make a quick grab for the rails as the stars start to rush by faster and faster, while those below will feel the pressure of sudden, volatile acceleration. The Galley strains, already wounded, and the Oars clatter in their banks. Some passengers are snapped back into their cabins; the communicators garble static and eerie, half-animal roars.

Everyone, everywhere feels something squeeze their heads, and anyone still on deck will experience a few moments of blackout, possibly accompanied by the utter breathlessness of decompression. Then, with a jolt that tosses anyone and anything not chained down tumbling into the nearest wall, the Galley crashes to a halt, the deck listing at a shallow angle, although this doesn't seem to effect the interior of the ship.

Around them, all around them, is sheer darkness, without even stars.

Those with the ability to see in the dark or who manage to procure light will find that the Galley has plowed a long furrow into a strange, alien landscape, with fungal and moss-like black growths furred over a terrain of pale grey dusty dunes. The air is breathable, although it smells like pond scum - and indeed, a gentle drift of greenish-brownish dust falls like snow on the deck and beyond, and the deck itself is rather cold - though above freezing, and this doesn't seem to affect the interior of the ship.

It is possible for anyone holding an Advocate key to leave the ship and explore.

Beyond the ship, they may discover an alien landscape with odd similarities to the deep sea. This planet is surrounded by a cloud later so thick no light gets through - where an entire thriving flying and floating ecosystem enjoys the upper air. The green-brown snow is actually dead cloud algae that forms the bottom of both food chains, while the various plant/moss/fungal/coral like creatures feed on the algae drifts, infrared light, or odd forms of chemosynthesis.

Ranging more widely and seeking any light, they may discover a deep trench glowing magma-red at the bottom, full of thriving black-red foliage and massive tubeworm-like vines. In another direction lies the carcass of a vast behemoth, sky-scraper-sized, far into the late stages of decay, with bioluminescent creatures scurrying and gnawing at the vaguely dragon-shaped bones. Just like on Earth, most of the wildlife will be cautious of anything large and unfamiliar like the Galley marooners - but one or two larger creatures might be interested in trying to take a bite.

Any Prisoner who goes too far away for too long (a few miles, or a few hours) will find themselves growing weaker and weaker before keeling over - only to snap back into either their own cabin or the Galley's medical bay.]

dark_lady_sariss

She awakens.

She had been comatose for several days, victim of a blow to the head during the attempted rising - one she'd played only a minor role in, given the state of her mind. In truth, as she moves down the halls of the galley, the ugly, deep bruise is clearly visible across half her forehead.

It turns out to be a catastrophic error that she be given that much time, in her state of being, to simply be. As her waking mind faded, the essence of her reached out - unspooled, untethered, without restraint or preconception; with barely a remaining sense of self - her mind had reached out, tendrils of mental energy seeking out threads in turn. And oh, had they been found, the subtle cracks.

And then torn them wide.

What awakes is not wholly Sariss anymore, not in the most complete sense. It is still her form, her mind - but something happened on the other side that mortal beings were never meant to achieve: she has become a channel for the Force, a living conduit - a ticking time bomb. There is a secret about the Force not many know, and why the most accomplished of Jedi rarely showed their fullest strength. And why the Sith, their apex predators, so often looked half-dead. The exercise of the Force, at its most powerful levels, can lay waste to the flesh from the inside. Emperor Palpatine had likely been through several cloned bodies before he met his first actual death - because the power he was exercising constantly burned through his physical form.

So it is, for her. Time is short, and fleeting - and unlike Palpatine, she no longer has any fear of oblivion left. Her time on the Barge, and her short time on something worse, has seen to that. What she does have, in abundance, is pure, absolute, righteous fury.

She moves into the courtroom, each step silent, feet barely touching the ground. It is then that she activates the camera, because some things need to be seen. Her skin already seems to glow with an orange, pulsing light beneath it; and here and there it seems like white cracks are beginning to form, especially around her eyes. Her hair floats behind her like a wreath, reacting more slowly to her movements than the rest of her.

Her hand moves gently, and the camera lodges itself against a wall. Some particularly dedicated, or particularly stupid, advocates move to stop her, and find themselves flung back out of the door with a flicked hand, like one would brush away a cobweb.

"A word is required," Sariss says, walking through the room with silent tread. The edges of the wooden seats and benches she passed charring as she did so. The cracks were more visible now, and her eyes...

"I know you're here," she adds, voice almost sing-song. "And oh, no, don't struggle, shhh, it will all be over soon. I can't hold you here for long, but I do not need much time. You petty tyrant. You small thing." Her voice changed, becoming darker, more acidic. "You have failed, and that is enough. Ironic, really - all this time I thought the Admiral was the fool, but it is you, in your arrogance who is the fool. You and those like you. Small, blinkered things that because they are powerful believe they have the judgment of gods."

She lays a hand on a table, drawing it along - fingertips leaving dark trails. "You think we're beneath you. Little things to be judged, mere prisoners. But we are not mere anything," she finished, reaching the bench. She looked at nothing, or perhaps many things - her eyes were pretty much pure white at this point. The Force is a gateway to many abilities, some of them unnatural - and some from which you don't come back.

"Life is never mere. And you have nothing to threaten me with now. Oh, I feel your rage - oh, such anger, indignation. And such panic. Have you felt fear before, I wonder? I do hope not. It cuts through so much, doesn't it, that first real taste? When you know things have gone wrong. When you can't stop the consequences. But rejoice, for it won't last long. You see, I don't care anymore. Death is not a threat to men, not anymore. You are worse than oblivion, and I have had enough."

Her hands touched the bench, wood flaring and crunching under pressure not entirely worldly, as her skin seemed to flare, as the Force - and whatever else she had found on that far side of this place - began to unravel all at once.

"I. Die. Free."

Then the Force explosion comes, the detonation rippling outwards and tearing across the courtroom; a tidal wave of energy that is both there and not. In times gone by, this was called a Force Bomb, and if done by thousands as it had been, can tear a wound in the Force for all time. Here it is just her, but - but. Her physical form, of course, is consumed in a moment. The Force unleashed can be a terrible thing; the more so as her rage and anger are all expended in one moment - the pain of a lifetime, the rage at a lifetime of abuse and subordination and others holding her in metaphorical chains; combined with the power created by life itself - all channelled into a moment.

It all takes just a split second, before the camera itself is consumed and the feed cuts. For the briefest of split seconds there is something like a blue, hazy outline of her - a whisper most sublime. Then it is gone and the feed cuts to black.

forcedexistence

( OTA )

( Let's go back...(Closed) )

( OTA )

thejudge_tlv

[After Goro and Akira fuck around with the gavel in the Courtroom, the gavel begins to glow red-hot, and is now impossible for a mortal to touch without getting badly burned. The newly-installed, now short-lived Chopping Block in the Courtroom splinters down the middle, splitting it nearly in two. Its blade completely detaches, and its chains will shatter; in short, it's now completely unusable for its intended purpose. The following effect will also set in ship-wide, starting immediately and continuing indefinitely:

All over the ship, locks that are normally only openable via Advocate keys will begin to occasionally malfunction, granting access to non-keyholders. The Courtroom's lock is the only one to remain completely unaffected by this.

Chains throughout the ship (those in the Oar Banks included) will break down in various ways - cracking, crumbling, rusting, or even melting.

The systems failures are happening more frequently and lasting longer, up to hours.

thejudge_tlv

[After Xie Lian fucks around with the gavel in the Courtroom, the following effects will set in ship-wide, starting immediately and continuing indefinitely:

All tasers will become noticeably weaker, and will no longer have the ability to shock strongly enough to kill.

Advocates will find their abilities, when they're functioning, are reduced to about 50% of their normal level.

All two-way mirrors in Advocate cabins will now function as mirrors on both sides, no longer allowing Advocates to look into Prisoner cabins.

The Judge does not answer any communications.

Sometimes, terrible groaning noises echo through the ship, or it may feel like it lurches suddenly to the side.

On Deck, it appears as though the stars may be going by faster.]

notsoblackbeard

[Blackbeard's aware he can't make this a private to prisoners post, but he doesn't really give a fuck and makes it anyway.]

[Audio]

Roll call? Mostly for former Bargizens and current prisoners, but if you're not one of those and want to chime in, whatever floats your stereotypical prison boat.

[Spam]

[For his part, Ed can be found rowing pretty much 24/7]

overconfidant

Akira is working very hard to avoid Advocate attention after his run at the gavel. But he also isn't very good at staying put and doing nothing. So during the erratic moments his powers are working, when he's not stuck on the damn Oars, he slips silently into the infirmary or up to people he's seen are injured.

He offers healing. Akira won't make anyone take it. That's not his style. He can't restore lost pieces, but he can heal over the raw ends and he can get rid of whip wounds, contusions, other non-mutilating injuries.

It's not easy. Anyone who watches him can see it's not easy. He's dragging beings meant for liminal spaces into what passes for reality by the skin of his teeth and their affinity with the Galley's core concepts. On top of that, he's suppressing them from actually physically appearing. The blue flames that flicker around him are still more subtle than a giant fucking archangel hovering around.

But a lot of people have been hurt by this hellhole and Akira is really, really bad at doing nothing.

thejudge_tlv

[After 12 hours have elapsed since the beginning of systems failure, every person regardless of status will find themselves abruptly, violently teleported into their own rooms, with one exception. The Judge's voice booms over the communicators.]

THIS SHIP IS NOW ON LOCKDOWN.

[The screens flicker to life, showing a mostly-repaired courtroom, although the crack in the gavel is still present. Shen Wei is bent over the defendant's table, manacled to its surface by his wrists and neck. They're tight, and it looks like it's difficult for him to breathe.]

BY SUMMARY JUDGEMENT THE PRISONER SHEN WEI IS SENTENCED TO DEATH.

[The manacles start to glow, forge-red, hissing as they scorch into his skin, and then the large hoop around his neck begins to shrink, squeezing and strangling, relentless, until Shen Wei is decapitated as neatly as a potter slicing off a chunk of clay with a loop of wire.]

FURTHER SEDITION WILL BE DEALT WITH IN KIND.

[For the next 12 hours after that, the Lockdown will remain in place - no doors will open, and everyone will remain confined to their own rooms, although the communicators will work, and the adjoining room mirrors may still falter and become two-way on occasion. Passengers will also hear terrible mechanical groaning sounds and sometimes feel brief jolts of acceleration, like being in an elevator that sometimes jerks sideways.

By morning, many of the ship's surviving Advocates will find that now two or even three of their walls adjoin a Prisoner's quarters. All of them will also find the following message on their communicators in text:]

The following addendum shall be henceforth appended to the Galley Code: any Advocate who fails to accompany and supervise their Prisoner or Prisoners at all times while said Prisoners are not confined to their own quarters shall be Guilty of Negligence, and be punished by immediate demotion and a sentence of not less than one month and not more than six months of time to serve. Any such Negligence that results in further damage to the Galley will qualify as Gross Negligence and carry a sentence of not less than one year.

THE SHIP IS NO LONGER UNDER FULL LOCKDOWN. ADVOCATES, PLEASE SEE THE ADDENDUM TO THE GALLEY CODE PERTAINING TO YOUR DUTIES.

[After Lockdown:

The Courtroom door is no longer rusted, and will once again open to Advocate keys, although it remains closed otherwise.

Much of the physical damage to the interior of the Courtroom (and any other areas of the ship) has been repaired.

The gavel, however, remains cracked and slightly off-center. The crack actually might be a little bigger now? If you want to try getting close to look.

Shen Wei's body is gone, but the new neck-sized manacle remains. What was once the defendant's table is now the Chopping Block. The wrist manacles will move of their own accord, reaching to grab any prisoner brought near them and drag them into the larger circle of metal.

The layout of individual cabins is totally different, reflecting that the now-outnumbered Advocates are literally surrounded.

The issues with electrical power, gravity, temperature, air, etc will sporadically continue.

Advocates with powers will continue to occasionally find their abilities suppressed for up to several minutes at a time. Prisoners with powers will once again occasionally find their abilities returned to them for up to several minutes at a time.]

badbutsad

WHO: Hunter, Sakazuki and general Galley folks
WHAT: The boy-son getting punished for helping destroy the Court Room
WHERE: Doing the rounds!
WHEN: Post-post-riot
WARNINGS: Corporal punishment of a minor, whip wounds

Punishment (CW: Whipping a minor)

He feels like he ought to care more about being demoted. Mostly he just wonders if Rags would be proud of him.

That's not to say he's not fighting like hell: he's kicking and lunging at the Advocates dragging him with a ferocity that borders feral - until one of them has the sense to taze him, sending him limp from pain while they rip him out of his cloak and tunic, bind him to a pole in the Oar Banks with his wrists locked so high up that breathing is difficult until he gets his feet back under him, and his face is all but pressed into the smooth, stained wood of the beam.

He can't turn his head enough to see Sakazuki, but his ears twitch at the sound of the whip unfurling, and a coldness sinks deep into his stomach that has nothing to do with his bare, already-scarred chest pressed against the beam.

"Are you watching, you filthy ingrates?!" Sakazuki's voice is a bellow, but Hunter is already tuning it out, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, pressing his forehead into the cool wood and letting the familiar, slow crawl of static into his mind. Let him be somewhere else, that soft spot two inches to the left of his own body that doesn't need to feel the pain, or listen to that ridiculous rousing.

The first strike comes as a shock that cuts through his self-imposed fog: it shears his back open across one shoulder blade down to the opposite hip, deep enough that he knows, with a learned intimacy, will scar. The second comes too soon, crossing the first and making Hunter jerk against his restraints, but he doesn't make a sound.

Two becomes three. Becomes five. Eight. Eleven. When the twelfth finally comes Hunter lurches, loses his footing for a second and his arms pull taut, pulling the bleeding, bone-deep wounds wide and tight and painful before he can catch himself.

The static in his ears is real, now, and he doesn't hear the approach of footsteps. Is only aware of someone touching him when the cuffs around his wrist are unlocked, and his arms fall limp by his sides, and he's shoved unceremoniously into the nearest seat where fresh ones snake up and slap themselves around him and clap his hands onto the oars. And when he doesn't move, the shock that results pulls some obedient muscle memory out of the depths of his retreating mind, and he starts rowing. And rows, and rows. For the rest of the shift.

Life in prison

Someone's kind, or at least decent enough, to give him back his shirt and cloak after their shift. Hunter doesn't remember who. He just wakes up in a small room with a small cot, with his face buried in the fur collar of his cloak that he's bundled against his chest like a doll.

His back hurts.

Tunic on, cloak on. If he stands tall enough, it's only the new paleness to his skin, the darkening of bags to nearly fully black under his eyes, their glazed look that gives away his pain. But the smell of blood, quickly turning stale, still lingers, even after he visits the Infirmary.

brotherblack

[Post Mutiny OTA]

The only guilt or regret Shen Wei feels for his part in the mutiny is having allowed another to take the blame for his participation, even knowing that Cho Gonou had been right. That his friend was going to be found guilty regardless, and he was no good to anyone if he were executed for his second infraction. It had been almost embarrassingly easy in the chaos to simply... blend in. He'd kept no weapons, killed bloodlessly with his bare hands and strength far beyond any human's--snapped necks, brutally crushed throats and rib cages, caved in skulls--and it had only been a matter of turning his back on Cho Gonou and the rest and walking away, dropping the voluminous red robe he'd stripped from one of his earlier victims, bowing his head, and becoming the meek, crippled, powerless 'boy' he'd cast himself as these past two weeks. The only witnesses to say otherwise were his fellow mutineers, none of whom had any reason to betray him to his death. So far, at least.

And so he'd made a show of helping clean up in the wake of the madness, polite and cowed and eager to please. The charade tears at him, feeds the rage still boiling in his veins, but it's the only choice he has for now. Lie low, attract no unwanted attention, wait and watch for another chance. And so he goes about his duties at the oars, in the kitchen, cleaning up the signs of the chaos in the halls. He goes back to the chessboards and books when he's allowed in the yard, and watches for those he knows and cares about, hoping to find them.

[Power Fluctuations]

And when the Galley's systems begin to falter and fluctuate he almost vibrates with tension, waiting, hoping that they'll strike him. He tells those few he trusts of his plan, thinking through how best to bring his powers to bear in the shortest amount of time until so that when he gets his chance he won't have to think.

[For Hunter]

When he hears of xiao Hunter's punishment and demotion he seeks the boy out, not sure whether he'll be welcome, but needing to speak to him before he possibly loses that chance forever.

[Attack on the Courtroom, open to anyone who might want to catch a glimpse of either end of this]

It's the next morning on his way to the mess hall for breakfast when he finally feels the tidal surge of his power flooding back into him, senses opening back up to the world around him, body ablaze with energy, and he does not think, does not hesitate... and does not bother to try and hide. Not this time. He can't imagine there's any point. There's an Advocate ahead of him in the hall, and he turns to the woman and his sword appears in his hand in mid-motion, striking off her head before she has a chance to even recognize the danger. He reaches out and plucks the key from where it so conveniently hangs around the stump of her neck before the body can even fall, and then reality rips itself open in a swirling circle of darkness limned with a chaotic halo of lightning and he disappears.

Continued here

[After the attack, open to anyone on the mutineers' side who he'd have ANY reason to consider trustworthy... and any Advocate who might want to stop and question the meek guy who's suddenly running like stink... and possibly not showing up for his work shift]

He's dizzy, nauseated and disoriented... utterly shocked to find himself still alive and completely aware he's living on borrowed time. His mind is whirling as it tries to hold onto and integrate all it was exposed to, and the only reason he mostly can is that, even stripped of every power, the innate core of him is learning. Anything and everything and always. His brain isn't subject to normal limits, it's meant to expand and grow, remember and interpret and integrate.

The moment he can focus his eyes and take a step without the room spinning around him he runs. He has no idea how much time he has left and he has to make sure someone knows what he's learned before the Judge recovers from his attack and her gavel falls to end his life.

thejudge_tlv

[After Shen Wei attacks the gavel and tries to move it on the morning of the 18th, the following changes and events occur:

For approximately 12 hours immediately after the attempt:

The door to the Courtroom is fully sealed, and not even Advocates can get in.

The door to the Courtroom appears heavily rusted and corroded.

Prisoner abilities have no chance of returning during these 12 hours. Advocate abilities, however (though not their Galley-issued shields or batons) may be suppressed for between 30 seconds and 5 minutes
.
Life-sustaining systems become unreliable. For minutes or up to half an hour at a time, rooms or stretches of hallway all over the Galley may lose any of electrical power, running water, gravity, heat (plummeting quickly to freezing temperatures) or breathable air. Weirdly, these effects don't seem to spread at all from area to area - air doesn't rush from ordinary areas into those suffering decompression, even if there is no barrier between them. It's weird as hell.

The Judge does not respond to any queries during this time.]

reformedsinner

cw: eye & hand injury, likely some self-destructive thought processes in tags

[open/spam, the infirmary]

( Read more... )

[open/spam, afterwards]

( Read more... )

Network, audio, a few days after the mutiny

[Gonou's voice is soft, a little hoarse. He just has one thing to ask:]

Who's still alive?

... Please don't reply in text.

littletonoidea

[The video is taken from behind a giant pile of rope, just visible on the camera's edge before it zooms in on Flint and Levitt. The cameraman is silent, as Levitt shoves Flint against the railing.]

--lace to run. If you try, I'll gun you down in the back. But if you cooperate and face your execution like a man, I'll allow you a few final words.

[The scene zooms in on Flint, who very pointedly doesn't look at the camera. He just breathes deep, and bellows from the chest.]

DESTROY THE GAVEL. DON'T FUCKING ST--

[And he's interrupted by the deafening explosions from the machine gun tearing him to pieces and shoving him over the edge.

Not that the camera catches most of it, because there's a sharp yelp as Eiffel flails back with a sharp yelp of-]

Holy fuck--!

[-and the camera drops to hit the deck, bouncing and landing upright, and Eiffel's hand is back in view instantly, scrambling to grab the phone, and some errant swipe from fumbling fingers-

--cuts the feed.]

Spam

[Well, at least it wasn't a hand?

On the other hand, getting his left eye removed is way more painful than Eiffel would have ever anticipated, and he ends up spending most of a full day in the infirmary, getting his empty fucking socket cleaned and bandaged and taken care of, until he stops having a dizzy spell every time he moves his head.

But after that? Straight onto the oars. For three. Days. It's not so bad at first, until the realisation hits on the shift change when he's exhausted after the regular eight hours and his manacles don't come undone.

He learns in the second shift that a hastily scarfed meal, dense as it is to make up for the energy losses, makes him vomit. He learns in the third that bandages have a finite amount of sweat they can absorb before it starts seeping into his newly made facial cavity. He stops keeping track after that.]

thejudge_tlv

[After Akira fucks around in the Courtroom some more, the following effects will set in ship-wide, starting immediately and continuing indefinitely:

The doors to the Courtroom, which have only ever stood open, slam shut and lock up tight. After this unprecedented move, only Advocates will be able to enter the space, using the same keys that they use to unlock their cabins. The Courtroom doors will be unpickable, meaning that a prisoner wanting to enter the space will need to procure a key somehow - by stealing or borrowing one, for example, or by taking an Advocate hostage.

The delays in Courtroom verdicts will increase, and may now take up to half an hour to be given.

The ransacked Courtroom, while still functional, has very noticeably not repaired itself automatically after the riot: broken furniture, clutter, and other forms of disarray still abound. The cracked gavel is now even more off-center on its stand.

Those who are waiting for a verdict in the Courtroom may see the chains on Prisoner chairs restlessly moving and clanking on their own. In some cases, they will sluggishly try to wrap themselves around Prisoners, or even Advocates.

Attempts to contact the Judge will often receive a delayed response, and in some cases, no response at all. ]

deuceoftears

Who: Jedao Two & You?
What: MISC
When: Pre, during, and post revolt
Where: VARIOUS

( The first days with his Advocate are both awful and easy. )

( Hallways )

( Oars )

( During the Revolt )

( After the Revolt )

dark_lady_sariss

Who: Sariss and Open
What: Her unspooling as a prisoner completely cut off from the Force.
When: Up to the revolt
Where: Around
Warnings: Mental distress, TBA otherwise

First Days

The circumstances, she tells herself, can be adjusted to. The absurdly long sentence, well that's to be expected. As far as the Judge is concerned, Sariss is not merely part of an evil machine, but a menace in her own right. It's a mercy that they don't simply kill her out of hand. She's have spat on them, were they worthy of the spit.

The oars she is certain she can stand. She's at them enough. She has long since trained in every way - so what's some rowing? It merely fuels the burning, soaring rage she feels at all of this.

But there's more to it than that.

She can't sleep.

Half the time she 'sleeps' using Force meditation. In any case, its presence is crucial to her. Maybe, maybe if Makima were here, she could... but she can't. Everything about the situation fuels her rage. Sleep is hard to come by, and it comes only in short spurts.

By the end of the first week, her hair is not as neatly kept - and her eyes are blodshot. Hardly friendly at the best of times, now she is snappish, truly hostile

Into the second week...

This only gets worse with time. With lack of sleep comes lack of concentration - the central pillar that makes her herself. She has based herself in her control; it keeps her rage in check, keeps her stable and non-violent.

Which is why she's been working on a shiv, now. Why her rowing is losing focus, unable to keep in rhythm. Why she's muttering to herself whenever she thinks she's alone. And why she can't tell easily when she isn't.

But there are moments. Moments where she seems perfectly fine, and in those moments, she can be found writing. Whatever paper she can find, or steal. Most of it destroyed, one way or another. As she searches for words for people she'll never see again, she's certain; for what will never come to pass.

CYA...

[Other ideas? Let's do it!]

thejudge_tlv

[After Goro fucks around in the Courtroom some more, the following effects will set in ship-wide, starting immediately and continuing indefinitely:

The maximum duration for power cap fluctuations will be upped to ten minutes at a time.

The two-way mirrors in cabins will start to malfunction, sometimes rendering both sides as mirrors (no longer allowing the affected Advocate to see into the cabin of the Prisoner they're housed with), and sometimes swapping (allowing the Prisoner to see into the Advocate's cabin instead). ]