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1 yr ago
Current The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town) *guitar riff*

Bio

I'm Morgan - 20 years old and currently studying biology and psychology. I've been roleplaying for about ten years now, and I've loved every moment of it.

I'm always looking for more roleplays to join. My favorite genre is science fiction, but I'm open to just about anything. I can do 1x1s, and I'm open to any level of casualness in a roleplay.

Send me a PM if you're interested in collaborating/working together.

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Most Recent Posts

I’m waiting on Jones to post I think?



At some point in the evening, Tony had removed himself from the table and retired to one of the couches in the room. The couch faced away from the group, and it hid him quite well from the rest of the crew as they continued to shout and play strip poker. By now, he was shoeless and shirtless - and for a time, he had almost been pantless, but he extricated himself from the game with more skill than one would expect from a man as drunk as he. His head swam in a fog of too much whiskey and whatever else had been circulating the table. The room felt like it was spinning in circles, and Tony was suddenly viscerally aware of the fact that they were in a metal can hurtling through space - it was, to say the least, disorienting. And so he stared up at the ceiling, hoping that either his body would purge itself, or he'd drift off into some sort of a fitful slumber.

Tony grew closer and closer to sleep, but he was rudely and suddenly awaken by a voice echoing inside of his head. That alone was startling enough that he pitched forward slightly - not enough to come into the crew's line of sight but enough that he almost fell from the couch. Of course, he couldn't place the voice at first. It wasn't until he heard it mention him that the pieces began to fall into place. When Rae spoke, he managed to finally understand that Ren had spoken - or perhaps "speak" wasn't quite the word for it. How wonderful it was that she'd found a way to communicate, and yet Tony couldn't help but feel the faintest twinge of sadness as he finally forced himself to sit up and face the rest of the room. He heard Ray from across the room address him, but it took some time for Tony to fully process the captain's words. Still, he nodded and slowly dragged himself to his feet before crossing back towards the table. The intensity of the situation hadn't yet hit him, for instead of attempting to formulate some sort of plan, he simply waved a hand back at the room and shuffled down the hallway towards his quarters.




In his younger days, Tony had been blessed with an almost unnatural ability to recover from the effects of drinking faster than his compatriots. Even now, he still recovered more quickly than one would have expected from his dulled behavior the night before. For the past ten minutes, he'd simply stared up at the ceiling, his body feeling too fatigued to move. He still wore his pants from the night before, but his footwear and shirt remained missing in action. His mouth was dry as hell, and he could taste the cigars from the night before in the back of his mouth. A light pang of hunger gripped his stomach, but it was followed by a gentle wave of nausea.

"Tango..." he grumbled, noting the robotic arm that had begun to reach towards him. The pain of the injection itself was enough to almost force up his dinner from the night before, but after a minute, he slowly removed himself from his bed and rubbed at his eyes. And then he remembered. He remembered Rendyl "speaking", remembered Ray asking him to investigate. Tony pushed himself off of the bed and shuffled off to brush his teeth and shower.

By the time he'd dressed again, he felt more at ease, but the hunger pangs were growing in intensity. The crew also seemed to be waking for the day and checking in over their respective comms. At Astrid's comment, he also tapped on his comms.

"Still standing," he remarked, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "Might have to take you up on the offer of tea." He paused, looking over at the books in his room. "Ray - if I recall correctly, we have a feq questions to answer?" He considered picking up a few tomes, but in all honesty, he didn't even know where to begin. Perhaps once they'd done some narrowing down, he'd be able to find some appropriate readings. As he moved out of his room and down the hallway, Tony began to fall into more of a natural stride than his earlier shuffle. "But first, that tea."
Sounds good! I’ll draft something up then.
so after all of that build up, I came back to school with no WiFi in my apartment - woohoo

anyway, we got it fixed, and now I'm drafting up a post that should show up some time this evening in between my classes today.

EDIT: I just read Jones' post in this thread - I'm just gonna wait for the timeskip at this point and go with the idea that Tony got plastered and passed out
lmao honestly that might be the best way to go about it at this point -- I'll be gone for about a week, but when I'm back, I'll try to shove Tony back into the plot
Holy shit, I really screwed up. I took summer classes, and they basically consumed my existence for the past few months. I didn't even think to check here at all. I'd love to try to recommit myself to the roleplay, but I totally get if I'm way too late getting back into the game. I'm going away for like a week now, but I could try to wiggle Tony back into the plot at some point when I get home and have Internet again.
*somersaults in*

Is it my turn to post, or does anyone else want to post first?


Tony fished a cigar out of the package just after throwing it down on the table. He held it between his fingers and moved it about before cutting it, savoring the moment and attempting to drown out the clamor of his crewmates as he lifted it to his lips. Tony had little care for their opinions right now, and he pulled a pack of matches from his pocket and held it to the end of the cigar as he puffed slowly. The cigar lit, and he placed it between his fingers as he set a glass aside into which he poured the bourbon.

He slid the glass towards a seat at the table and sat down. Tony pulled out the chair beside him and gestured for Ren to sit beside him. He smirked slightly at Ray's words, but it was a wistful sort of smirk, and it weighed on him as the others wandered over.

Tony looked up for a moment as Yasaliah joined the table, and he took that as his chance to down the shot quickly, slamming the glass back on to the table. He held his tongue as Yasaliah commented on Ren and took the time to pour himself another drink. Tony pulled on his cigar and let the smoke swirl about his head as he looked around the table at the others as Yasaliah asked the others for opinions. He gave a slight smile and nod to Aamra as she replied -- whether or not she saw it, he didn't quite know.

He didn't quite pity Rendyl, but he had managed to become quite attached to her in a quick amount of time. Perhaps it was because she reminded him of a life outside of this God forsaken ship. But he didn't want to think too deeply about it now. At least he missed Astrid's joke about the plague.

Finally, he took the second shot and landed it solidly on the tabletop. The sound echoed well through the room. Though Aamra and Rae had attempted to quell the situation themselves and probably wouldn't appreciate him reigniting the conversation, he quite enjoyed throwing himself into the fray.

"She is twenty-six, actually," he finally replied, the snark dripping from his words now as he shot a smug sort of grin at Yasaliah specifically. "Less of a child than you appear to be at this moment, Josk. I suppose you would know that if you had bothered to ask." Tony paused, most definitely for effect. "Or, rather, you would not, for I very much doubt you have any knowledge of American Sign Language."

Tony disengaged himself from the conversation with a long pull from the cigar, and he turned towards Ren. [color=ff773]"Do you know how to play?"[/color] he asked, slowly raising his own cards for a quick peak. It wasn't his favorite game by any means - he was much more of a fan of the exotic games played at the casinos of the galaxy's other alien lifeforms. But he figured he had enough working knowledge to give himself a fighting chance. But by the time he looked back to Ren, she had already started to handle her cards, and he couldn't help but grin to himself. Perhaps she'd end up giving him a run for his money.
Working on a post finally -- I've been a bit preoccupied cause I have a surgery next month and also have to get ready for my finals and move out of my apartment into another apartment. But I'm still breathing!


Antonius quickly became lost in his thoughts as he sat at the counter staring at his hands before him. His thoughts drifted back occasionally to the crumpled up photograph that Anderson kept of his daughter on his person at all time. Was that destined to be him? To wallow in the past until he finally died on this ship? It was a horrifying thought, and it occupied his mind even as Raymond entered the lounge. Tony finally looked up as Ray began to speak and a hush fell over the room.

His jaw tightened slightly as Ray revealed Anderson's retirement plans. Salt in the wound. Was it supposed to make him feel better about Anderson's death? Tony slowly picked at the grilled cheese in front of him as Ray continued to talk, only looking up when he heard his name.

And then he turned it off and quickly pulled a slight grin as he stood from his seat and crossed to the cupboard. Bourbon, poker, cigars...perhaps he'd find a way to get over Anderson's death after all. When he'd found the cigars after some poking around, he removed them and closed the cupboard behind him.

"Oh, they smell heavenly," he remarked as the scent of the cigars leaked from the package and washed over him. Memories of high-society parties and smoking on penthouse balconies occupied his mind as he leaned lightly against the counter and looked towards Ren. He watched as she looked out inquisitively over the assembled crew. Perhaps he'd ask what she thought of them - an outside opinion could never hurt. She caught his eye and quickly signed to him as he crossed the kitchen to grab his grilled cheese. Tony devoured the rest of it slowly, thinking over her request.

Tony still didn't know how the rest of the crew would treat her. Some were certainly bound to be defensive or even aggressive around her, for one could argue that her presence had - indirectly - led to Anderson's death. He could simply tell her no and avoid the whole confrontation. He'd find a way to rationalize it. And yet, whether he knew that wasn't what Anderson would have wanted or because he just wanted to cause a stir, he shrugged and turned to Raymond.

"Ray," he called, having just swallowed the last of his sandwich. "Rendyl wants to play. Deal her in." Very much so not a question. A demand, a request. He turned back to Ren before Raymond could argue. "Do you know how to play?"
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