Journal of Morgan Adams

If someone hasn't started already -- fine, fine, rationing food whatever. But some people should start gathering the perishables together, getting them into whatever containers are necessary, and moving them up to the main deck so we can tie them off there. It's pretty damn cold up there, still, and should keep things from spoiling. Just a suggestion.

[Mason can be heard roof-roof!ing somewhere at her feet.]

[Not with her usual tone of command in a crisis, she just kinda hedges into it.] ...And for God's sake, people, I beg you keep calm. The ship's dead but there's nothing on it that you haven't seen before. Don't get superstitious and don't let your mind wander. ...I say this because it's common sense -- aaaand because I haven't seen King Charles.

So if you find something small, wiggly and soft, then please don't scare him; he's twice as hard to find when he's hiding.

[She rubs the back of her head.]

Henry and Billy, sound off!

I swear, you try to go for something safe and the flaws wind up inherent in the design.

...All right, so things are a little fuzzy. Tell me that I didn't swoon into someone's arms or anything remotely suggestive beyond that.

I missed the initial fervor that started this discussion and have only been able to look back, but why are so many Wardens offering to help the Doctor build these "phones", which he's openly offering to everyone? Is everyone just really excited about tinkering with some new gadget, or are the lot of you really so fucking selfish as to dive headlong after talking to people that have died or that survived you? You realize that the point to mourning is to have your sadness but to rebuild and go on living afterward, right? And what proper message are you sending to the Inmates by telling them "Oh. Yes, you've died. Yes, you're here to earn a way back if that's what you want. But BY ALL MEANS go on clinging to the things you need to let go. PLEASE take this opportunity to have something that allows you to pretend NOTHING BAD EVER HAPPENED and it's life as usual." 

It's not life as usual, here. Every single Inmate on this ship is a person deserving of respect when they give it in kind and our care because we are Wardens, and there are certain freedoms we should always hesitate to deny anyone here while there are others, though attractive, that we do more harm than good by granting. All of you are sworn to guide your Inmate to wisdom and reason, and to decide when they cannot. Sometimes that means knowing when to end their pain and when to help them soldier through it.

I have lost in the past. I lost my mother when I was not half a decade of age, and I buried my father one year before I came here. There were times when I thought that I would give anything to see either of them, or hear their voices, or speak to them, and after two years here I thought I had moved on. There was a flood once that brought my father here. I never got to see him, because he took my place for a time, and just knowing he'd been here tore everything open again that I had mended.

This is an ill-advised project, and shame on every one of you that's offered supplies or labor to it.

EDIT: Now I've said my piece.

I'll be staying in, I think. Much as I'd like to get out and about, my Inmate is bedridden here, so there's no call for me to go off without him. 

Everybody have lots of fun and stay out of trouble! ...And bring me something interesting -- Henry, too, if you feel the inclination and want an excuse to do more shopping.

[Morgan is clearly armed when she appears on the screen. She's in her cabin but may or may not be there soon.]

The Admiral has lost his fucking mind. [A calming breath; she's fuming.]

I'm telling all of you now: The Borg Queen. If she comes near my door or puts a foot in the infirmary, I will blow her fucking head off.

[She stands up and reaches to turn off the communicator.] And that goes for anyone that tries to stop me.

[End Transmission.]

I've never been ashamed of what I have done here or the people I've run with. I never so much as raised a hand to a person that didn't harm me or mine first.

What I do and have done is not something that everyone is going to think normal, and I've reconciled myself to that. But does not, and has never made me a sinner. I never took what I didn't need. I provided for my family. I taught my child right.

[Family Filter]

Family meeting. Jim, Leia, girls -- let's meet in the cart an two hours before the gate tonight.

We all need to have a long talk.

(ooc: So the Cooch dancers and barkers need to get together and have a meeting. Morgan and Jim have seriously discussing cutting out and settling down somewhere, and...they probably won't leave without their family. Probably. Anyway, spam here)

Goddamnit.

Looks like that storm that hit us back in Stoolbend did a number on our tapestries. Girls, when you're done with rehearsals, take a break and get to mending them. We're not starting the show tonight looking like we've never made money doing this before.

Tents up, but there's only one guy building the stage -- so I need a few more rousties in here helping him and one to fix a few of the lights.

Cooch don't sell in the dark.

Leia, where is your brother?

(ooc: Morgan, one of a husband/wife barker duo for the Cooch Dancers -- one of which is their daughter, Laura, the rest of which are Leia (her husband's sister) and Leia's daughters. This was not uncommon back in the old days. For added effect (and why she's not in the show herself) she has a brace on one of her legs from taking a bullet to the knee and can't actually dance anymore. She...is also kinda bossy no matter what her form. And annoyed at setbacks -- noting that when she's annoyed that Jim Kirk stops being her husband and becomes her sister-in-law's brother instead.)

[Morgan is out on deck, which is seemingly unoccupied. She's successfully avoided bursting into song for this long and decided she was safe to pursue a little fresh air and as per usual she gets a little caught up in the view. It's her favorite part about this place. Her video feed cuts on when she leans against the deck and unknowingly puts a little too much pressure on some of the buttons. Damn modern gadgetry :| She hears the music first and smiles a little sourly, looking up at nobody and nothing in particular, like she does when she's directing something at the Admiral, with a sort of humorous Okay fine you got me kind of air. Her voice is soulful and nostalgic.]

( The sweetest dreams I've ever known are those of you and those of home. )

[The sound of a low "awooo" is heard and she looks down, bending to give Mason the basset hound a few affectionate strokes. When she stands again she notices the little red light on, makes a face, and clicks it off.]

(ooc: Comments and spam are welcome :3)

So does anyone have it figured out yet? What's going on, anyway? 

And why it keeps raining up on the deck? 

Ah, I remember the last of these floods fondly. Only not really. I seem to remember one squirrely little miscreant breaking into my room in the dead of night to raid my wardrobe for undergarments. Hopefully not an effect of the flood.

A whole two years since a full repeat. I'm impressed, Admiral.