reflected-ship - Tumblr blog

[reflected-ship]

Roa doesn’t understand this whole “booping” business, other than that it is mildly disruptive. It seems like something that would appeal to Lor, not herself.

At least it’s opt-in…

[reflected-ship]

Oh. Would you look at that. It’s been five years since she made the decision to have an online presence in the social manner.

It’s hard to say whether she regrets that choice or not. Or, rather, if she completely regrets it or not…

[reflected-ship]

what if you went outside and saw slender man what would you do

Oh, great— one of those people again… As lonely as it gets out here, she isn’t exactly thrilled about the company, what with her prior experiences with anons and all.

At least they just asked a simple, albeit nonsensical question.

“One, I don’t know who or what that is. Two, I can’t “go outside”. I’m already outside. There are no indoor areas designed for someone of my size around here, and, quite frankly, I have no interest in seeking out such a location. I’ve already spent far too much of my existence in an enclosed space for my liking.<”

[reflected-ship]

The dashboard as in like. the outside part of the boat. That dashboard. The

Roa does not have any type of external dashboard, unless one were to really stretch the definition and count her emblem. Perhaps later Umbramaker models would have something to serve that function, but for her, the potential for debris to hit her dome is a normal risk of flying. Usually it isn’t a problem, but if someone throws a sticky hand at her again she’s going to be upset.

[reflected-ship]

Give it a treat :(

As she is a spaceship and cannot properly emote, please imagine someone simultaneously shaking like a small dog and pinching the bridge of their nose.

“Someone I do not recognize just showed up in my interior at random— a feat which should not even be possible— and I am supposed to give them something and act as if what happened is normal?<”

Given the circumstances, or, rather, her perspective of the circumstances, she’s doing a great job of outwardly keeping herself together. In all fairness this was a pretty big violation of privacy and comfort, though; quite a few steps beyond just not knocking and letting oneself in to someone’s room. At least the first time this happened nobody was there to act judgemental…

“Look. I don’t even own anything to give. I don’t have any treats or candy or toys or what have you just sitting around, nor hands or functionally similar mechanisms to hand things out. Forgive me, but if I wanted chaos in my life I would go live somewhere that isn’t remote and consistently covered in ice and snow.<”

Hopefully the layer of dust that came out with her surprise guest will suffice.

[reflected-ship]

A fluffy spider-wasp sits politely on Roa's dashboard, wearing an elaborate "Hallowed Ween" costume. He's wrapped in silken mummy bandages and draped in layers upon layers of sparkling jewelry -- painstakingly applied makeup and various accents of his outfit awash in flaked gold and iridescent micro-shimmer.

"Trick or treat!"

It had been a normal day today, though the Umbramaker was aware of the date. Believe it or not, she might’ve actually gotten into the Halloween spirit— well, long ago, that is. Alas, mirror Halcandra didn’t participate in any equivalent tradition in her time, and she doesn’t concern herself with such things anymore. Too many things to think and overthink and worry about.

The real tragedy here, though, isn’t the ship’s lost sense of fun and whimsy: it’s the fact that someone put in all the effort to get dressed up and fancy and sparkly and she can’t even see any of it. Of the many downsides to hardly trusting anyone, let alone enough to let them fiddle about with any of her systems or hardware, is the fact that lacking internal cameras has just been a part of life she’s accepted for all this time. It also means she doesn’t have any idea who this stranger who just randomly showed up to sit on her dashboard is, even when he speaks up.

Hopefully the fancy arachninsect doesn’t mind being teleported out into the snow by a very, very startled Roa. She was not expecting visitors today, let alone for anyone to show up inside without even going through her entrance.

In other words, seems there are no treats to be had by either party here. Happy Hall of Weed or whatever…

[reflected-ship]

saw a boat today that looked so soft and so lonely, if I was stronger maybe I would write a poem about her

[reflected-ship]

league of legends

"I don't know what that refers to or how it pertains to me.<"

Death sentence.

[reflected-ship]

Help Me I Am Trapped In Another Dimension And I Am Begging Please Get me out if here Please I Havent Had Food in 2,222 Days And Im Starting To Become Moldy And Green

Upon reading the first portion of the ask, she genuinely considers the possibility that she may have to go out and save a stranger or be saddled with the guilt of leaving them to die. Given how much regret and remorse she already deals with in regards to other cases of inaction on her part, the latter option was essentially off the table. To knowingly leave someone to such a fate is cruel beyond words.

Her sense of obligation was short-lived given how quickly she processes data; reading on revealed it was unnecessary almost as quickly as she'd felt it. Though biology was never her area of research, a sapient being capable of going years without sustenance who would mold before they actually die would surely be something she would have learned about by this point. Much more likely is that this is another person playing a prank.

The disregard for the severity of the kind of situation they had claimed to be in, a situation similar to that which the Umbramaker had once risked finding herself in... It was infuriating. The degree to which it was such would be difficult to express in words, but the once fairly stable patches of snow now melting and sliding off of her might give an indication as to how she's taking things. Still, it would be foolish to assume an assumption on her part to be true without making any effort to confirm it.

"On the off chance this is a legitimate attempt to reach out and get help, I am willing to offer my assistance. But if this is just another tasteless joke, you can starve and rot alone.<"

... Roa might need a little while to cool off, figuratively and literally. She isn't looking forward to the layer of ice that will form after that.

[reflected-ship]

Hey tell us a joke

“… Do I look like a comedian to you? I don’t know any jokes.<”

That was a partial lie on the Umbramaker’s part. She does know some jokes, but doesn’t think they’re particularly funny or all that worth telling. Not that she has any confidence in being able to really sell them anyways; entertaining has never been her strong point. At least, she thinks that, or rather has been convinced of it.

[reflected-ship]

hello i have a word search for you

"... Thank you?<"

She's not certain if this was just a joke or lucky guess, or if someone actually does know about her love of word searches despite it being brought up or otherwise shared a grand total of zero times. Regardless of whether or not it was sent knowingly, she will keep her opinion of it to herself. Said opinion being that this is possibly the worst word search she has ever seen, given its inconsistent theme, poor letter alignment, and "word" that is just the top row of the search itself.

That is, however, not to say she didn't take a few seconds to solve it anyways. It's just that the game's humorous nature is lost on the Umbramaker. Chances are even if she knew it was a joke, she wouldn't find it all that funny anyways. But it's the thought that counts, right? She'll gladly take a horrendous word search over some of the things others have sent her.

[reflected-ship]

welcome to april! *throws a second sticky hand onto*

She hasn’t felt this tempted to do physical damage to someone in a while!

[reflected-ship]

… Oh. Well in that case *slowly slides a gun back into pocket*

“Why do you anons keep trying to give me firearms? I can’t use them and I don’t want anything to do with them.<”

The Umbramaker pauses for a moment, then thinks of something else to add.

“Come to think of it, I have the feeling you shouldn’t even have such things in the first place.<”

[reflected-ship]

What would you do if someone handed you a deadly weapon

“Well first I would be very concerned, and then I would distance myself because I do not trust any of you people enough to accept any sort of weapons from you. Not that I would accept them from anyone else either.<”

Seems the shorter answer is “nothing”.

[reflected-ship]

🫓🫓🫓🫓🫓🫓🫓🫓

Oh. Someone is standing there with 8 tortillas. Looking at her.

“… Um…?<”

She has no precedent to go off of to know how she should react in this situation. Besides being very obviously confused, judging by her tone. What does this person want from her?

[reflected-ship]

I throw one of those sticky hand toys directly at her… window. thing.

As one may expect from such a thing, the rubber hand easily sticks— with a fitting schlap sound— right where it lands: just about perfectly in the middle of her dome’s observation window. The ship can’t help but let out a sharp, startled beep.

Fortunately for Roa, the little thing now stuck to her equivalent of a face is totally harmless. Unfortunately, while these toys will usually fall off of a wall, vertical window, or ceiling after a bit of time, the curvature of the glass means gravity isn’t doing much of anything to remove it from her. Given her lack of any way to remove it herself, her only options are to ask for help, wait for it to rain, or accept this embarrassing turn of events. The Umbramaker is not a fan of any of those choices.

“… I hate you.<”

[reflected-ship]

hi i think youre valid and cool and also i just thought i should let you know that you deserve better. oh and that someone wants to

“A-ah…<”

Once again the ship is unsure of how to respond, stuttering awkwardly for a moment and then ultimately recognizing that words just weren’t going to happen at this rate. They think she’s cool? Even considering that, as far as she’s aware, she’s like… the opposite of cool, based on what others consider cool? Uncool but in the lame and boring way?

Maybe that’s just lingering sentiment from her days of being considered the spineless goody two-shoes among Umbramakers, but she’d still say that being looked down upon by other ships was safer than risking getting on the bad side of anyone who had actual influence. As isolating as it was, at least it guaranteed her continued existence; if the higher ups decided to have you decommissioned for whatever reason, that was the end for you, no matter how popular you were among the fleets. At least, the vast majority of the time it was; occasionally someone might escape with their life, but they either didn’t last long, or are a very specific and unpleasant individual.

Her thoughts turning back to those days was stressful enough, but now she’s been given a vague message. Or is it a warning? A threat? There are a lot of different things that someone could want to do involving her, and many of the potential options coming to mind are less than pleasant. Granted, that makes sense considering some of the messages she has received previously; here’s to hoping it isn’t any of those, and especially isn’t one of the ones that violates personal space. And comfort. And consent.

“Someone wants to… what? Who are they? Are they someone I know? Do they have bad intentions? Am I being stalked??<”

Oh dear.