piper90 | Recent Entries

[ The hovering comm shows a tight feed of Robbie with a laminated card in his hand, reading it to himself. After a moment, he must find what he’s looking for because he lets it drop, swinging wildly on the chain that used to anchor it to someone’s desk. With the same hand, he picks up a wall-mounted handset and cradles it between his ear and shoulder. He pounds a few buttons on the keypad and turns to face the comm.

He’s evidently met with some of the liquidators, as there’s a bloody bandage on his arm. Robbie points upward just as the Rig’s PA system kicks into life throughout the entire Rig. He doesn’t want Jorgmund to think anyone else was responsible for this. ]

Is this on? Cool, it’s a crackly POS like everything Jorgmund touches.

Sorry to interrupt everyone’s storming of the Bastille, and I’ma let you get right back to it, but I need to find someone and this is the fastest way.

Kerrigan. Paging Kerrigan. Kerrigan, your presence has been requested by Saturday, so please check your comm. Find us if you’re agreeable.

If you’re a Jorgmund employee and your name is Kerrigan, no one cares. This isn’t for you.

Everyone else, you may now return to storming the Bastille. Tell them we don’t want their damn cake.

[ He ends the feed. The PA is SLAMMED down a moment later, apologies to anyone with sensitive ears. ]

googledox

[It comes on Saturday's comm, during a lull in the fighting, when the liquidators have all been stopped. It's text but the text-to-voice options means people can hear the message on the go, especially since people can have their comms float along with them as they move.]

[It's difficult for him to hit the buttons without messing words up. He opts to keep his sentences short and simple. Thank goodness for auto-capitalize and auto-spell]

Using Saturday's comm. She found me outside.

Brainiac 5. I'm alive.

Fell in Stuff. Was dying.

Alive but changed. Bad. Typing is difficult.

No thumbs.

wheyoftheadept

[the feed opens on Saturday’s wide and glacial grin.]

Good morning, Jorgmund!

[the camera pans around, showing the open FOX coffins and the empty, staring bodies within. It lingers pointedly on the children. Saturday speaks over it.]

So, guys, this is how they make FOX. They take people, people like you - from the livable zone, from the settlements, from people who cause trouble or get in their way - and their cut their brains out. Make them living dead. Stuff flows in - [she pans up to the tangle of tubes, focusing on the inflowing Stuff] - but since there’s no mind, it can’t turn into anything. No dreams, no fears, no hates or loves or desires. It becomes FOX. [focus on the outflow]

[she resumes steering the camera around, lingering on the slack faces of the victims in their coffins.]

These are people from your world. Your people. Your children. Jorgmund is consuming them, and for what? To preserve a scrap of a dead world by killing its future!

[the camera flies by a row of child-sized coffins]

Is that worth this? Would you rather kill children then learn to live in a new world? ‘Cause you can live in it.

[the camera finally turns away from the coffins, back to her face. Her gaze is solemn and sincere, almost pleading]

You can. Not like you did before. In a new way, maybe a harder way at first, but you can live in this world. You’ve seen that people can. All you gotta do is not be afraid of things being new and different. Having to learn new things, maybe start over from scratch a couple places - is that really the worst thing that could happen? Worse than this?

[the camera’s pulled back a little as she speaks; when she gestures, you can see the horror at her fingertips]

Even if every single human fucks it up an’ everyone dies, wouldn’t you rather go out - not having been part of this? You do have the power to stop it. You are Jorgmund - not the executives, not the shareholders.

[the camera pulls farther back as she spins, pacing towards the audience, direct and fearless and imploring]

You, the people who run and guard the Rig, who clean the offices, who file the paperwork. You soldiers, you engineers, you secretaries, you janitors and middle managers. You have the power here. If you want this to stop, then stop it. Everything Jorg has, you gave it. Take it back, and make a better future.

Or don’t. But now you know the truth.

[She points at them, brandishing a finger like the judgment of god]

So pick a side.

[end transmission]

[[ooc: characters can and should do locked discussions here so plotting is in one place]]

Current Music: "The Future," Leonard Cohen

onequartershark

Hello, rig crew. I have an update on the Dick Washburn situation. The guilt finally got to him, and he decided to make himself helpful.

[ She turns her comm's camera to scan over two small but extremely important objects in her other hand: a piece of paper with some complicated-looking sequences of numbers and mathematical symbols... ]

[ ...And Dickwash's shock collar control fob. ]

We have less than four hours before he misses a security check for the fob. Then they'll remotely detonate it, and we won't be able to block that signal. The paper... has to do with the activation frequencies for the nanochains? He stole the data from Boyle.

[ She turns the camera again. She's proud of what she's accomplished here, but not sure what this win is going to look like in motion. She is Not A Scientist. She's not a diplomat either. This is a wild day in the life of Carolina. ]

I can't stop anyone from making choices, but I told him to get out once it's clear we've started moving against the company. He wants to go hide his family from retaliation, and I don't think he'll be our problem ever again.

[ Carolina is not interested in punishing him any further. She saw the look on his face. He'll punish himself enough, she thinks. She's been there. ]

In the meantime...

[ A lot has happened. Time to remember who was doing what in the wake of Brainiac 5's murder, before she charged off on this gamble. ]

Cammie? You were trying to pick up Brainy's work on the collars, right?

onequartershark

This is encrypted new hires only. If that still works. I have a feeling it's not going to matter for too much longer.

[ Carolina looks focused. She has a mission. She's about as close as she gets to happy around here, and depending on who you are and how much you've seen of her? That might be sort of concerning. ]

In case you missed the confrontation I just had with Washburn: He's invited me to talk with him in person.

I'm going.

[ No hesitation. She doesn't appear to be looking for advice. ]

In the meantime, the rest of you need to start making some real decisions about what we're about to do. I don't think things can get much worse. We're at a breaking point with management. We're at a breaking point with this mission. Brainy left us with data on the collars. I'm not a tech person. I can't help you guys figure out if we have enough to break loose and fight.

But I can see if this buys us another chance.

[ She squares up. ]

If I don't come back or the next time you see me is on another broadcast...

[ She shrugs. It's a stunningly casual motion for someone who knows she's possibly facing her death. Stunningly casual considering how tense her shoulders are.]

[ Carolina will be available to talk back for a bit before her encounter, but she's already made her choice. ]

piper90npcs

[cw: violence, mild gore, character death, shock collar punishment.]

The scene opens on the roof of the rig. A few small puddles of Stuff from the last Stuff storm shimmer here and there on the rugged metal.]

[Some of the rig executives stand there, like Fust and Glotfelty, along with several security guards. Washburn stands in front of the camera someone is holding, looking anxious. Lubitsch is there too but doesn't look happy about it. He's bristling where he stands. This maybe is not something he's there to watch by choice. It's possibly a punishment.]

[And there is Brainiac 5, kneeling on the rig roof, nose bloody, one eye swollen, jumpsuit collar rumpled.]

[Washburn says:] New Hires, I'm afraid I bring you bad news. Recent investigation into Reid Planker's death and evidence from his autopsy has discovered that his death was not from natural causes, as we first thought.

The aneurysm that killed him was caused by poison, one made from common cleaning chemicals that were found in Mr. 5's possession.

[A lie but this isn't about justice. This is "you kill one of our people, we kill one of yours." It's a frame job.]

The -

[His voice cracks. Dickwash clearly doesn't actually like this.]

The consequences for murder are severe. We are far off in the wilderness. Prisons are still being arranged and built in the Livable Zone. Martial law is the way things are handled for severe crimes on the rig.

For that reason, Mr. 5 will unfortunately have to be executed.

You are allowed view this so that the consequences of his actions are presented in an open and honest atmosphere. So you understand the overwhelming necessity of this.

I'm sorry that it's come to this.

[But things aren't going to go to plan without a hitch. "Aw, fuck it," says Lubitsch in the background and then he elbows one of the guards in the neck and upper cuts another, then grabs that one into an arm lock, breaking his elbow and dropping him to the ground before moving to the next guard. Clearly, he's well trained, and his frequent laziness has been hiding something.]

[Where he kneels, there is a sudden clink from Brainy picking the handcuffs with bits of metal he keeps in hidden pockets in his clothes, and the handcuffs drop to the deck. Brainy pops up to his feet, and lunges for the nearest guard, using him as a shield, directing his gun away and forcing him to fire. He aims for the feet of the other guards, a debilitating but hopefully nonfatal injury. But he's aiming for the guards, not the executives. He's ranked the threats, and the executives rank low, especially Celeste Lillian.]

[This is a mistake.]

[Because Celeste is always packing a concealed gun and is a crack shot thanks to her CIA training. The gun is drawn and the shot over the guard's shoulder is on the mark. The personality inhibitor on Brainy's forehead shatters. He staggers back several steps, green blood pouring down his face.]

["No!" calls out Lubitsch, but Washburn pulls out the same clicker device he uses to shock the New Hires and Lubitsch goes down, too, twitching and convulsing as he gets shocked.]

[Brainy falls back against the railing of the rig's roof, eyes wide with shock. Several more shots of gunfire ring out, blood spatters, and new wounds appear in his chest. Celeste re-holsters her gun and walks over to where he's leaning against the railing. Then she reaches down to grab his legs, lifts them up and casually tips him over the railing. Just like that, he's gone.]

[She walks over to whoever is holding the camera. There is no vapid grin, no airheaded woo-woo.]

[She says:] Planker's last medical scans showed no signs of a budding aneurysm. We're not idiots. But even if it was natural causes, we will respond if circumstances of a staff member's death seem questionable.

No more games. No more pretense. You are all going to follow orders or suffer the consequences. And any attacks on rig staff will result in immediate retribution.

Now, with this...distraction over, attend to the new mission at hand. Your orders will be forthcoming and we expect you to follow them.

[Washburn cuts out the shock therapy and Lubitsch stays there, shaking, on the ground, tears in his eyes. Washburn's face is almost green as he looks at the green blood spattered on the deck.]

[Celeste nods at the camera person and the video cuts out.]

[ooc: Characters can react in the comments and just lock their conversations.]

pathkin

[A prompt comes up on all the comms, auto-executing a program.]

[Execute: C:\Jorgwind\Secureprotocol\emergencprotocola434ff.exe]

[The Lonestar program pops up, with a message from him being sent automatically.]

If you are reading this missive, I've hit a panic button on my comm to automatically send this message. I have pre-recorded several messages based on the status of my apprehension. This particular message would only be sent if I had enough time to verify the security of the Lonestar encryption. This means I've been taken into custody for a reason than a break in our comm security. But I don't know how long that security will remain intact. It may be that now is the time to act against Jorgmund, before your situation gets worse.

Sending this also means that the threat I'm facing is severe, possibly death, so there is no more reason to hide that I am Brainiac 5.

My death or permanent capture was always to be expected given our circumstances and the clandestine actions I've been taking. If this is the last thing I am to say to you, I want you to know that I hold you all in the highest regard. Some of us have had our differences and disagreements, but our communal strength and resilience under the conditions of our capture is something to be admired.

There is much I want to say about your strength, compassion for each other, and about the nature of hope. I want you to know that my faith that the resilient can triumph over evil is not blind, that it has been tested time and again. I have seen people stand up against veritable gods to ensure the freedom and prosperity of all - and I have seen them win. Your chances of overcoming Jorgmund's control are higher than some of you may think.

The name "Lonestar" is a title that belongs to one of my team-mates, Shikari. She is one of the Kwai, a race of nomadic pacifists that prefers to flee from threats out of a respect for life rather than fighting back. Every so often, a Kwai is born that is a warrior in nature, an evolutionary throwback to times their species was more warlike, and these Kwai find a righteous cause to fight for -- the Kwai call these individuals Lonestars.

I can only hope she wouldn't mind my appropriation of the title, but I could think of no better one to use when trying to channel her spirit and felt I needed such spirit to reflect that of the people I was talking to, since I saw that same spirit in you.

It has been an honor fighting side by side with you all. If I never see it, it is my greatest hope that all New Hires can all go home or to other worlds of your choosing. There is no scientific basis for the concept of "luck", but I certainly hope the odds are in your favor.

But some technical expertise can certainly help. I have enclosed all of my observations and analysis of any schematics we obtained, as well as analysis of the shock collar retrieved from the labs. This may be able to help in the deactivation of the shock collar system.

[Attached is a massive info dump of anything he's figured out scientifically, completely up to date because he updates it constantly with anything he's figured out. There's also the location of where he hid the shock collar so other techies like Cammie can keep looking at it.]

For added security, sending this message will data wipe my entire comm device, so you now hold the only copies of this data.

I hope all this can help and that the actions I've taken can protect you.

Yours in friendship,
Brainiac 5

PS If I die, fellow Legionnaires, please pass along my regards - and love - to the rest of the Legion when you're back in contact. Let them know that my last thought was almost certainly this:

Long Live the Legion.

[Also, attached is a deeply personal note, locked for Robbie's eyes alone.]

[A letter to his son is sent to all Legionnaires on the rig, in the hopes at least one of them will bring it home.]

piper90npcs

[After a night weathering a Stuff storm, the rig has stopped, the way it has before when there's a mission. But it's different this time. Now that the Stuff rains have slowed and stopped, there are sounds of violence outside. Shouts. The rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire.]

Good afternoon, everyone.

I'm afraid I come to you under dire circumstances. Due to topographical limitations, the rig has been forced through one area in the valley.

Unfortunately, this area is inhabited by a small village. These people don't understand the importance of the rig, it's very necessity for humanity. We need your help with evacuation, especially since it might be more...forceful than usual.

These people can be given much safer shelter in the Livable Zone and we need you to keep that in mind if evacuation resorts to violence. You are being ordered to subdue any resistance, keeping in mind that while this confrontation may not be ideal, they will be brought to safer areas to live.

It's for their own good, you see.

Which means that if there are any New Hires that refuse to follow orders, discipline will unfortunately be necessary.

[He actually looks vaguely uncomfortable at that.]

You'll be receiving your orders shortly. Please standby.

remaininghalf

Mio adjusts the camera angle as she films herself. She clears her throat and introduces herself:

"Hi, I'm Mio Amakura. I'm new here, they just showed me the presentation and interviewed me. They said that there are many 'fellow New Hires' I can speak to, anyone care to show me around? Thanks in advance."

She ponders on whether to say something else or not, stays silent for a bit choosing the latter. Right when she's about to turn off the device, though, a question comes to her.

"I wanted to ask, is this a different plane of reality? Like some sort of dream?"

Last thing she knew she was in the Manor Of Sleep searching for Mayu, actively being cursed and all. If this is an evolution of that dream, then the thing took quite the turn.

"Also, are curses a thing here? Asking for a friend."

She doesn't realize that her tattoo is visible to everyone in this universe, but she is aware that there can be some kind of alteration whether this is a dream or not. For what she knows, this might be the third curse in a row. She's not happy about it, but she'll do what she has to.

prairietroubador

[It's Greg on screen. He's got a guitar with him, idly tuning it as he talks.]

So, you all know I'm a superhero, and you all know I'm a singer. Lately though, I've been doin' too much of the former and not enough of the latter. There's been some, mostly for my own amusement and to keep in practice, but if I'm honest I've always liked havin' an audience. Wouldn't have the job back home I do if I didn't.

So, just for fun, I'd figured I'd open myself up to requests. Or just some conversation if you ain't feelin' it.

Keep in mind though, if you're the type who ain't a fan of country? Anything you request probably'll end up that way. Not 100% my fault, the invisible intangible Stuff band I've got backin' me defaults to it.

pastnastification

[The man that shows up on the screen is an extreme ginger, complete with blue eyes. Given that Jorgmund isn't really the type to give people hair care products, the way his hair spikes up seems to be a natural swoop.]

[He figured out the hover function on his comm (100% by accident) and that means it's a wide view of him, sitting on his bunk and leaning forward with curiosity with his elbows on his knees. The New Hire jumpsuit isn't exactly flattering on him - he's almost aggressively average-looking and slightly paunchy - but he looks comfortable, like he's used to occasionally wearing stupid uniforms.]

[The Planet Express delivery crew has worn stupid uniforms on completely random occasions.]

Three questions.

One, what does the little lock button do that I just pushed before recording this and also why?

[He doesn't clarify what the "why" refers to. Is it "why does this exist?" or "why does it do whatever thing it does"?]

Two, has any seen - or been roundhouse kicked by - a foxy cyclops? Or seen - or been mugged by - a robot?

Three, how long has everyone else been stuck here? I'm really hoping it's a short amount of time because there's someplace I really need to be. Has it been just a couple days, or a bunch of weeks?

[He's hoping they'll all get to bail from this place soon. Those chances will be better if people haven't been stuck here for ages already, because it means he might be, too.]

Four, has anyone been shocked enough that their tongue went numb?

Five, who all is everyone else...is?

And d) Hi, I'm Fry.

[A pause.]

Wait, that was supposed to be question.

[He has obviously lost count, accidentally used a letter, and also gone over three questions and seems clueless to this fact. But he said he had questions and therefore he rephrases the last one as a question, even though most people don't introduce themselves by asking other people if that's their name.]

Hi, I'm...Fry?

[Nailed it. Solid introduction, if he does say so himself.]

piper90npcs

Hello, valued employees, associates, and...beloved friends of the Jorgmund. I come to you with sad news today, and before we begin, I would like to make sure that everyone is centered and grounded. I’m going to ask for everyone to take a deep breath and close your eyes so that we can all be in the right mental state before we hear this tragic news.

Now that your eyes are closed, I want to you envision a balloon. It can be any balloon you like. Maybe it’s a helium balloon where you can feel all the static electricity between the surface and your fingers. Maybe it has a smiley face on it. It can even be a miniature hot air balloon, if that’s what your imagination gives you in this dire time. Just try and make the balloon in your mind a calming color. Maybe pastel blue, or rose pink. Envision your pastel balloon.

Now, I want you to envision the balloon expanding and contracting with your breath. Deep breath…feel it expand. Exhale…feel the balloon shrink. Now, let’s all do this ten times.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale… inhale, exhale… inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale… inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…

Alright, now that we’re all grounded and in a serene state of mind, I can share the horrible news with you. As some of you may have heard, our beloved Head Trainer, Reid Planker, left this plane after a devastating aneurysm last night. We used both scientifically-grounded and homeopathic medicine in an attempt to revive him, but sadly, we must accept the things we are powerless to change – and that is a workplace without our dear friend and inspiration.

A brief non-denominational ceremony will be held in the gardens this evening, but as we recognize that everyone must grieve in their own, personal, sacred way, we will let everyone use that time and even report thirty minutes late to their shifts tomorrow morning, to cope with the grief and perform any necessary self-care. Dr. Fust and I will also be holding individual therapy sessions for those of you who are feeling this grief most acutely.

In trying times like these, it’s good to remember that everything happens for a reason, even if we’re too blinded by tears to always see what it is.

kingofneworleans

[Remy's kicked back on one of the beds in his room, comm on hover as he shuffles a set of cards carelessly. The kind of movement that's used by people trying to deal with left over energy.]

Merci beaucoup for de distraction, mes amis. Made gettin' in an' outta de Executive Deck a lot easier.

[Did people know that there was a group breaking into the Exec deck? A few. Saturday certainly implied that there were folks who knew about it, at least.]

Got some interestin' bits of info an' kit, too.

fuckingaqua

Hey, so if everyone's done celebrating love or diversity or whatever, I've got personal agendas that are actually important and cool that don't have anything to do with Human Resources.

[ It hasn't even been a week but ok dumbass. ]

The important one is, I need someone to use magic or science or whatever to everything-proof a photograph for me, ASAP. They won't let me use a fancy copier to make a backup, so I need that handled before the next time I have to do some bullshit mission around acid or fire or dudes who wanna stab me.

The cool one is, I need someone who has a grenade they're willing to flush down a toilet for team bonding cred. You'll probably get messed-up eardrums, but it'll be fucking awesome. I dunno, we can make it like a group thing? 'cause now that I'm thinking about it, I've never had a multi-team operation to flush two grenades down two toilets at the same time.

poor_unlucky_girl

Hello, everyone! I was talking to someone from the staff, and they informed me that here June is traditionally Pride Month, an event where we can celebrate all forms of love not only between men and women but between all genders, and I think it's a beautiful initiative!

They appreciated my enthusiasm and they explained me all the pride flags, so they allowed me to organize a party to celebrate Pride Month. The party area will be the mess hall, and there will be rainbow cake, snacks, cookies with the pride flag and many pins and boxes of facepaint. The staff said that costumes are allowed, so express your creativity!

I am currently picking the decorations. I met someone who calls himself the Counselor, but he doesn't really work here? I'm not sure, but he has been very nice to me and he is currently instructing me about Pride Month traditions and helping me organize the party, if you want to join and help us we appreciate it. See you all this Saturday at 21.00! Happy Pride Month!

Image credit: ask-jennifer-of-rule-of-rose.tumblr

credit_not_blame

[Not too long after some of the New Hires come back from this mess of a mission, a locked down video post appears on the secret network from everyone's favorite still-underaged-shhhh werewolf. She looks perky, in the slightly manic manner of someone gearing up for a fight.]

Since everyone got so excited about my question regarding what we were going to do with the Jorgmund scientists on the last mission, promptly turning it into a seething argument on whether or not killing is ever acceptable, I've decided to bring it up here on the Rig. Because apparently we need to have this conversation now or else we're going to have it at a completely inappropriate time and place; like on a mission where we're trying to plan out how to escape a prison that mind-fucks us.

[Because really, people? Really? Stacia clears her throat and schools her expression back into a smile.]

I'm going to need everyone to shitpost like crazy on the public side of things, because I can't be in charge of that and in charge of moderating this, the hottest of topics.

Speaking of, guess what. I'm in charge of moderating this conversation because Lonestar likes me best. Or because I volunteered; six of one, half dozen of the other. That means that I can freeze your threads and put you in time out if you break the rules.

( And on that note, here are the rules: )

poor_unlucky_girl

"Oh, um, hello everyone." Jennifer greets awkwardly while trying to set the frame properly "I haven't really practised using this thing so I'm getting to it now. It's like a typewriter and a projector mixed together, so it's a bit difficult. Can you hear me? I can't-- I can't hear you. Hello?"

The hard light hologram of Brown barks behind her as she had summoned him to spend time together. She turns slightly and opens her arms.

"Brown? Come!"

The dog wags its tail and happily walks towards her. She kneels to hugs him.

"Good boy!" she smiles genuinely, then shoots a quick glance to the device still filming her "Ah yes, I should get him some treats."

Jennifer gets up again and nods towards the door hole.

"I'm going to get you something, Brown, you wait here, okay?"

Brown barks in response.

"Come on, Brown. Sit!" she shakes her head and corrects herself because Brown isn't used to that command "I mean, stay."

She freezes for a moment, notices that the dog is gone.

"...Brown?"

A chair that wasn't there until now starts shuffling. She looks near it to see if he's there.

"Where are you?"

The chair barks back at her, jolting up as it does so. Jennifer gasps audibly.

"BROWN?! BROWN, DID YOU TURN INTO A CHAIR?!"

The chair barks again.

"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! HOW DO I UNDO IT?!" she flails around frantically with no criteria whatsoever, until she starts pressing every button on the keyboard "Did the typewriter do it?! HELLO?! DOES ANYONE HEAR ME?! HELLO?!" she whines desperately, and hilariously "MY GOOD BOY TURNED INTO A CHAIR!"

hallelujahjunction

[Dan shows up on video, clearly on the muggy roof trying to get one of his contraband cigarettes in without ending up butterfly chow. It's put him in a good mood, adding the spice of daring-do to the morning smoke. He's got a sneaky grin on his face.

Better to actually get to work on doing something instead of wallowing in raw memories.]

Hypothetical question. [He glances over his shoulder and sees that none of the wildlife is about to attack him, then takes a drag.] If you could pick Planker's brain, what would you want to know?

babylieutenant

[ Hello, the Rig. There's a young woman with the most shockingly lilac colored eyes ever to be seen peering into the camera on her communication device. She looks awkward and a little uncomfortable in the issue jumpsuit. She smiles, though. It's a very bright, winning smile, too. ]

Er, hello honoreds. My name is Lieutenant Tisarwat, of the Radch.

I'm not sure how i came to be here, but now that I am I'll be doing my best to fit in and pitch in where I can, and I hope that we'll be able to work together in the future!

[ For all her discomfort she manages to come across pretty genuine. ]

I do have a small request, however. Does anyone know where I can get some...

[ AHEM. ]

Some gloves?

bringinghopewithme

[Bunny went away on his transport mission over Easter and came back, but he disappeared for a few days shortly after that.

Only a few days, though, before Sam, Stacia, and Dan get private message.]

I got away for a while. What happened while I was gone?

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September 2021

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Page Summary

walkingballpit - (no subject)
googledox - Sure Got Kafkaesque in Here
wheyoftheadept - A Very Public Feed, Broadcast As Urgent Open Immediately To All Jogrmund Staff
onequartershark - [New Hire Encryption] Pay Dirt
onequartershark - [New Hire Encryption] Judgment Call
piper90npcs - The End of the Road
pathkin - A Goodbye
piper90npcs - New Mission
remaininghalf - Here we go again.
prairietroubador - Video
pastnastification - ♫ Introducing on sunshine, whoa-oh-oooh ♫ [LOCKED]
piper90npcs - Staffwide Announcement
kingofneworleans - [Locked to New Hires] [Backdated to the evening after Planker/the 'riot']
fuckingaqua - audio;
poor_unlucky_girl - Pride Month Party!
credit_not_blame - [bendy-timed] Let's Get It All Out [locked to New Hires except Price, Mac, and Jack Spicer]
poor_unlucky_girl - Instructions were unclear: dog got turned into a chair
hallelujahjunction - [Locked to New Hires]
babylieutenant - video; open
bringinghopewithme - [Locked to Sam, Dan, and Stacia]

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Recent Entries

(no subject)

Sure Got Kafkaesque in Here

A Very Public Feed, Broadcast As Urgent Open Immediately To All Jogrmund Staff

[New Hire Encryption] Pay Dirt

[New Hire Encryption] Judgment Call

The End of the Road

A Goodbye

New Mission

Here we go again.

Video

♫ Introducing on sunshine, whoa-oh-oooh ♫ [LOCKED]

Staffwide Announcement

[Locked to New Hires] [Backdated to the evening after Planker/the 'riot']

audio;

Pride Month Party!

[bendy-timed] Let's Get It All Out [locked to New Hires except Price, Mac, and Jack Spicer]

Instructions were unclear: dog got turned into a chair

[Locked to New Hires]

video; open

[Locked to Sam, Dan, and Stacia]

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