Kasimir

Pen-brother, we share the same brain cell

Reminder that the write-up is fiction mixed with a heavy dose of 'Kas-brain-at-2330hrs' and 'Kas is dead tired of writing fight scenes so strike me down with a lightsaber' and shouldn't be taken as a literal guide to the night's events. Though if you need me to tell you that given both the RBM and Drake sections...

LG101: Day Three - GlitchxCity Roya was certain of it: there was something fishy about Relve. The way Roya saw it, you could assume the Scadrian saboteurs were all Mistborn, but if you did, then you sort of just accepted the Scadrians could do pretty much anything and hoped for the best. Or you could start with conservative assumptions and see where that got you. If you assumed the Scadrians needed access, seeing as they’d gotten to Comms, and they’d embedded themselves well within the crew of the Fourth Bridge, then you were looking for someone who had connections, and ways of getting contraband on the Fourth Bridge. That was a small slice of the Fourth Bridge, but instantly placed Relve square in the middle of Roya’s subject pool. And then, well. Digging through the personnel records, and the deployment records, and the shipments revealed the smallest inconsistencies. A cargo supposed to contain dried fruit from Theylen mysteriously disappearing between two invoices. Roya wondered if that was how you smuggled contraband onto the Fourth Bridge: a little accounting sleight-of-hand between one requisition and the next invoice, and friends who were willing to switch out the cargoes. The prints were all and very well, but on a hunch, Roya siphoned some power and asked the 4B to run a comparison on the Rosharan grid. A couple of hours later, he had his answer: the background belonging to Relve had been recycled from an orbituary buried more than five decades ago in the Kholinar Tribune. Some spacer who’d died before being able to make it out to the Fourth Bridge. Roya’s eyes were beginning to feel dry and he swore he was hallucinating black spots on the brushed chrome keyboard of his terminal. Grimly, he sipped at his kav and made himself keep on digging. If you dug, sometimes you saw where the story fell apart. And then he’d gone to the crew with his findings, and no one had believed him. Relve was certain of it: there was something fishy about Roya. You developed a sense for it, as a bartender. Sometimes it was the way they carried themselves, the way they looked about them, like they were bristling with energy and ready to start crem. Sometimes it was the speed at which they were knocking back Pan-Vorin Gargleblasters, which told you nothing good was going to come out of it, with how much Horneater Lager went into making that cocktail. Sometimes the energy in the bar was dark, edgy. You knew people were ginning up for a fight, and that was the point Relve pressed the quiet button that alerted Security. You weren’t supposed to get this drunk and rowdy on the ol’ 4B, but a bunch of things that weren’t really supposed to happen were capable of happening anyway. Well, he’d had that feeling that night, with the way Roya was staring and nursing his drink, eyes bloodshot and looking like a man who was going to start something, or a guy who hadn’t slept well in weeks. Relve wasn’t too sure about that. He’d asked for a Blackthorn Crusher, neat, which made Relve suck in a startled breath but something about Roya suggested it wasn’t the time to ask if he should be going that hard on the drinking with the night cycle that young. So he diluted it. Cut it with a little something he smuggled into his sector of the Fourth Bridge, a bunch of tranqs from Medical. The mix wasn’t strictly-speaking legal, but Relve was especially proud of it. Not enough to knock Roya out, mind, but just enough to put him out of whatever mischief he’d set his mind on, make sure it stayed harmless. ‘Course, then Roya’d wobbled about for a while and Relve’d called a security officer to escort him to his quarters. Didn’t remember which one. 4B was teeming with them these days and the last thing he wanted was for Roya to get lost or hurt on the way back. People got jumpy, what with the whispers of Scadrian saboteurs on board the 4B. And then Roya had gone to the crew, whipping up wild stories about him being a Scadrian saboteur, and the way Relve saw it, well, if you wanted to destroy the 4B, that’s what you did, didn’t you? Take out the guy keeping everyone well-fed, and watered, and who made sure Security had what they needed and Engineering was still keeping together and people were happy. Also there wasn’t any way in Braize he was a saboteur, nor was Roya getting up to anything with what Relve’d slipped him. And no one had believed him. Ara Ra'Ash stared at the flickering lights. The panel wasn't on the fritz anymore, not since the captain and crew had decided that potential Scadrian infiltrators could be held in the brig instead of the emptiness of space. But the Life Support was still off. All those little adjustments that normally, the ship made on its own. The little niceties that made Ara question why she still had her job in place. Ever since they shoved poor Ayet out the airlock, ever since Aeorin died and proved them right... it wasn't the same. She'd messed around with the controls before. Seeing how far she could push the air filtration systems in empty rooms before the great shipspren took over and gave its warnings in the form of a small alert and a potential chewing-out from the Captain. But it had always had a gentle tone, correcting a lost child. She'd never had to fight it before. She did now. "Come on, 4B, work with me here," she said, rerouting air throughout the ship as the lights flickered from blue-green to yellow-green and every almost-green color in between. She didn't think the Fourth Bridge had appreciated her inner voices' little message, but she also didn't think the shipspren had it out for her. It could have done much worse, like seal her in this room with no food or water, which would have been exceptionally annoying. It hadn't even touched her air supply. Instead it seemed more inclined to keep her busy, forcing her to focus on ensuring the flow was correct and not... whatever else 4B was up to. It kept trying to change the Life Support - and several other things, she considered—in a few different rooms. The brig was the main one. It seemed split between trying to subtly asphyxiate Relve and Roya and trying to help them. It also kept trying to refill the engine compartment, which had been vented prematurely. Ara wasn't sure, but it also seemed like the Security room also was turning slightly yellow when she wasn't looking. The detonation in Comms made it clear to everyone that there were actually Scadrians aboard. Ara, I talked to the Fourth again. Ara pulled out a set of indicators out of her pocket. She'd been checking them about once every minute for a while, although the kav was starting to fail. But both were still blue. Both of her friends were still alive. "There's not much more we can do for them, is there?" I doubt it. Survival only lasts so far. Not without drawing undue attention. Time to calibrate the Reactor perpendicularity? "Just about. Can't go without a parting gift, can I?" Lieutenant Ara said, a devious smile starting to appear. Oh rusts, AraRaash… One indicator blinked. Flickered. And then it went out. During the night cycle, the corridor lighting panels leading to the brig were dimmed, as was true for most of the Fourth Bridge. Jacks took the corridor at a run, boots hitting the flooring in a staccato. The air seemed painfully thin, and part of his brain wondered what Life Support was doing. One hand went to his painrial. The lethal fabrial was there as a backup, but he’d the idea that Command’d probably prefer the Scadrians captured alive for interrogation. You couldn’t ask any questions of a corpse. The security indicator that had silently triggered his alerter continued to go off. Faster, he growled. Pushed himself. He was worried he was too late, whatever it was. Ara’s words echoed in his mind, about the difficulty of keeping a Scadrian Mistborn locked up in the brig. Really, if either of Relve or Roya broke out, Jacks privately feared they would struggle to contain them. And then he came to a stop. The door to the officer’s lounge was wide open, and a medical officer was kneeling on the floor, administering CPR to the still form of Cofi. Jacks took in the situation quickly. The medical officer was going to do whatever he could. His job then was to secure the area. He glanced about him, quickly scanning for threats. A noose dangled from the rafters, near one of the battered old armchairs. There was a stain in the corner, but Jacks figured it was probably food. The officer’s lounge was private, and he’d seen it only a couple of times. It was also ancient enough to have known Honour. The lounge smelled of smoke, of grease, and an old tune played in the background. He absently recognised it as one of the postwar Parshendi songs that became popular in Thaylen City. No threat. The scene was secure. He turned to the medical officer, opening his mouth to ask if the officer needed any help, but the officer was shaking his head, even as the lights in the lounge abruptly grew dimmer, almost-black, and the music shifted. He wasn’t a Listener, but that Rhythm… Another post-war song, the song of Loss, played on the speakers, and the lights stayed dimmed. The medical officer drew his jacket over Cofi’s face and torso. Jacks wasn’t superstitious, and he didn’t think of the ol’ 4B the way some of the other bridgemen did, but he had the unmistakeable feeling that the shipspren was agitated by the death. He had been too late after all. Coffeecat was a Security Officer! The Day has begun! It will end in 48 hours at 2330hrs on the 28th July! Crew Manifest:

Cycle is over!

Less sure then - it might be because I already tend to have logged into Steam prior to that, so the game just launches without me opening Steam (it's an option in a button but I don't click it.) I also don't bother to look at the Steam window since I'm just logging in, so I click it shut fairly quickly.

I use the desktop icon to launch Stardew, rather than going through my Steam so that's why I don't see my hours Good for my SAN!

Oh, this. I've taken to giving myself a themed farm challenge each run just for the fun of it: stuff like there will be categories of produce or skillsets my farmer can't use, and things I'll focus on, and I try to stick to it and still clear Grandfather's check in two years. It's more for RP than genuine challenge. I also actually picked up a Retroid Pocket 2s just so I could install Stardew on it and play it while commuting. (There were some other reasons for it but Stardew was a big reason.) I really liked the idea of having Stardew on the go, even if I mostly just get a day or so done each run. I'm currently playing the Beach Farm and aiming for an Elliot run on the 2s and a Sebastian run with the River Farm (and the new update) on the PC. I haven't played since the Ginger Island update so I've got so much good content to catch up with. My best farm was still a Forest Farm run with Leah (always my fav ) where I focused on strawberries, melons, and artichokes. Tell me about it... I daren't check my hours. I stopped Stardew for a while because I made my own mods and was too lazy to check if they needed patching, but also got distracted on other games. It's nice to come back to it though.

It's so chill. Probably no accident I racked up the most hours on it while procrastinating from thesis.

You get jail! You get jail! Everybody gets jail!

LG101: Night Two - Suspicious Minds The atmosphere on the Fourth Bridge was tense, grim even. It was easy to dismiss Ayet’s death as being the result of paranoia run amok. It was harder to pass any sort of verdict on Aeorin’s death that didn’t lead to the conclusion that Command wasn’t particularly jumping the gun: the Fourth Bridge was dealing with determined adversaries from Scadrial, who had managed one way or another to infiltrate the background checks and security processes and make their way aboard the research station. Working together, a team from Engineering had managed to restore enough of the comms system to allow security broadcasts to be heard throughout most of the station. As Kethen had predicted, the makeshift repairs and juryrigging fixed the broadcast system but things like private calls and streaming axehound videos were still strictly off-limits. A good day for Security, and for productivity on the Fourth Bridge, Kethen thought cynically. After the task was complete, he headed right to long-delayed sleep, intending not to wake up until it was his shift—whenever his next shift was; the boss hadn’t been particularly clear, likely on account of the fact someone had detonated a bomb in Comms and all that. Oh, and Aeorin had been murdered. Kethen was too sleep-deprived for trauma at the moment and figured he could continue to function and then freak out about Aeorin’s corpse much later. Because Kethen was sleeping, he missed an argument that was raging on board the Fourth Bridge about whether Roya was a Scadrian saboteur, or whether Relve was. Jacks ended up detaining Relve in the brig for safety reasons—no one could agree about whether that was for Relve’s safety, or everyone else’s, as Cofi had claimed to have gotten a severe case of food poisoning after consuming one of Relve’s brews in a special Command-only lounge, and Roya’d backed her up. Meanwhile, Tuon had ended up confining Roya in the brig on charges of being a Scadrian saboteur, and Roya’d hotly denied the claim, arguing that it was Relve instead. The arguments went around, and around in circles, and the lights on the Fourth Bridge darkened sporadically as bridgemen argued about who should be chucked out the airlock. Perhaps the Captain could’ve put an end to the squabbling, but no one had seen him for days. In the end, no one went anywhere, unless you were Relve or Roya, in which case you wound up in the brig, and everyone went off decidedly grumpier. No airlocks were opened. In any case, nothing important happened today. Nobody was exed! Nobody was a Scadrian Saboteur because if Somebody had been Scadrian, Security would've found them...right? Man, Everybody hates Nobody. The Night has begun! It will end in 24 hours at 2330hrs SGT(GMT+8) on 26th July! Apologies for the short write-up but I'm tired and have been up since 6AM so this will have to do. Security Watchlist: Crew Manifest:

Cycle closed!

Current vote update courtesy of Tallybot:

1. Black and bold is any non-neutral alignment. Basically either V/E. 2. NAs—North Americans. I'm aware of where my timezone intersects theirs so basically it was "if y'all don't do it now you probably won't get a chance because my being able to check will be rare/odd intervals like rn."

GM Announcement! If anyone wants clarifications, I'd advise getting them in before the NAs get to sleep tonight because I'm going to be unavailable for a decent chunk of the cycle, until around SGT noon tomorrow. This means that essentially your best chance of getting clarifications off me in a timely manner is ASAP. Get them out of your system! Rollover will not be affected.

It does, but the only thing that matters for the Captain is the vote at the end of the cycle. I don’t consider any vote placed and retracted to matter.