The floor is now lava!

[waywardtomato]

Who: Edward and Everyone
When: Mid-morning
Where: The central Plaza
Style: Starting Action, also like prose if you prefer.
Status: Open to all to suffer the perils of avoiding lava.

[There is a small bit of a commotion in the plaza today. It seems a certain gangly 13-year-old has taken to climbing on, over, and around various objects in the Plaza. Tables, chairs, plants even smaller parts of the coral are being as objects to be climbed on as she is working her way from one end of the plaza to the other. She even at one point jumps on the back of one of the residents of the bubble, before jumping to a nearby table. Those checking to see what the crazy girl is up to, will notice a message scrawled on the ground all over the plaza.]

[Following her, as usual, is her small brown corgi, Ein. He seems to be immune to the effects of the floor lava.]

Comments

[grandhighblood]

[He doesn't realize it, but he's already being sucked into this stupid game. Being so complacent within a time of peacefulness has really sucked the aggressiveness out of him- at least for now.]

Never heard of no motherfucking sentient ships? Naive little shit you all up and are, whoever the motherfuck even made you captain needs to straight up cull himself right the fuck now.

[But getting kind of bored of just standing there, he does slowly make his way towards the tables. Once he reaches one, he uses the surface of the table as a chair, the actual chairs being much too low for his comfort.]

[waywardtomato]

[Edward evokes strange reactions from all that she meets. She is strange little bundle of disarmingly strange energy.]

Nope, nope! You are the first, Mr. Such. Ships where Ed are from do not have sentience, just computers. They are intelligent, but incapable of mutiny. Also, Ed made herself captain, because the fire of adventure beats deep within her heart. The splash of waves and the crashing boom of cannon-fire ring within her very blood! ... or something like that.

[He sits and Edwards smile practically splits her head in half.]

Mr. Such, We have hit land! Let's drop anchor and go to shore. If the natives are not friendly they shall taste of our 8-pound guns. Or maybe the strength of the ship itself. He is not to be trifled with!

[grandhighblood]

[While he doesn't mind being used as a ship, the highblood doesn't exactly go along with Ed's roleplaying. Highblood don't have no motherfucking patience for that kind of shit himself- let the wigglers do what they want, but he'll stay out of it thank you very much. So instead, he'll just keep talking about sentient ships as he sits there.]

If those words were uttered amidst the Subjugglator court, your sorry ass would all up and motherfucking culled on sight. Calling a highblood a ship- fuck, that's all up an insult saved for the psychic lowbloods that were motherfucking wired on up to the hull. Like a livin' and breathin' engine, heh.