DustJacket

The Mare in the Moon, vintage swirls and Old English style

You just read my mind

Peking

Weakened hull, just to build the tension.

The situation indeed changed, but not for the better. Dust intended to steer some of them from this heat. "Exactly how old is this ship?" He asked, to anypony pony at this point, the survivors seemed to be clueless, so he hoped that the pony clad in armor beside him has the answer -- not like he needed the answer, it was a question just to put everypony's mind at another matter, hopefully. Another loud grating noise occurred, even louder this time, it'll be stupefying if this one didn't draw the attention of everypony in the ship. "Alright, that noise certainly does not ring 'brand new'." Dust continued.

Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel made me do this.

:okiedokielokie: Okie Dokie Lokie... I'll keep an eye on you still

Just don't knock me off my mag boots.

Dibs on the repair group to repair the breached hull, if that ever happens that is.

Dust's face picked up a grimaced expression as conversation heated up, perhaps distancing himself would be a good idea in case hooves went flying, He joined up with some of the ponies apparently distancing themselves from the conflict just as he was, walking pass them and continued further down a corridor leading to another section of the ship. But as he took his initial steps and lying one hoof on the very corridor's floor -- whether it was a coincidence or something very bad about to happen, was inconclusive -- a loud heavy creaking sound fell unto his ears, he recalled the sound to be somewhat similar to submarines experiencing excessive pressure. The ponies near him heard it as well, "Sush!" he reacted, gesturing everypony to be quiet as if the sound rivaled the sound of bickering, "Anypony hear that?" Dust then looked down towards the corridor and said, "I have a bad feeling about this."

Or that, that's a good one too Spacewalk sounds like a whole lot of fun though. Just think about it, a hundred possibly thousand or tens of thousand year old ship floating around in space might have the possibility of a weakened hull and shortly an explosive decompression.

I'll just wait until we're about to do a spacewalk. And staying in character, too. While I'm at it

She was not the only one, the state of idleness along with tedious conflict between them induced a slight headache. He had finished helping the medics in relieve duty, And now, now he was bored -- bored unto submission, and slowing losing his mind in the process, he leaned against the wall and whispered to himself, "Great, 'it's a great career booster,' she said." reflecting back on how his agent got to convince him to make a documentation of the Gate, as he see the room in the state of mild chaos. As much as he loves the possibility of adventure as much to the next pony, this one, well, this one is totally not up to his standards.

I really don't know what to do to get Dust to at least introduce himself, let alone be more involved in the RP at this point Without going out of character that is.

First wave is done.

Sodium calcite? In the form of solid mineral or aqueous solution?

As the mare left to return to the gate room. Dust had a thought of returning there himself, "I should -- I'll just, go back with her," thinking that there were nothing else that he could do other than helping the injured. But he couldn't help to pass along an idea, "Before I go, did you check the oxidation catalyst?" then again, this being a ship of Ancient origins, does the air filtration system work like the ones back home? He thought, although, he did hear the red unicorn's statement who seemed to be well acquainted with all things Ancient, so he became positive on the idea he gave. "I mean, if what you stated is right," referring to the red coated unicorn, "it's worth looking" he shrugged for a little bit in the end of his sentence.

@, "Yes, well, funny you should ask" Dust gave a nervous chuckle and continued, "I'm actually just a writer... long story. But more importantly, the medics almost patched up all of the injured, but..." apparently he had forgotten what it was that he wanted to say. A moment of silence him and the mare occurred, then he noticed the group was working on the vents, "Oh, air vents," then the particular scene made him to remember a familiar scene, one that spelled badly. His tone changed for a bit, "Let me guess, air filters' not working."

@, Panic level was indeed rising, even with the medical personnel administering relieve, it was just not enough to reduce the stress all were having -- what would you expect, a death defying moment would surely put one on edge, it was a miracle no pony snapped after it, or this was going to be one of those books involving deep space induced paranoia. So, Dust intended to speak to somepony in charge, hoping he could get some good news. Then one mare caught his eyes -- the one with a loud and strict attitude -- seemingly going back and forth between the room he was in and who knows where in this ship. Even though the mare was way off, he trailed her closely from behind, relying the sound from her steps to guide him through the winding corridors. Eventually he arrived -- with absolute luck that he didn't get lost -- at a room and saw several others in the room. Dust knocked on the metal entryway frame asking a rather obvious question, "Uh... are you guys in charge?" whilst keeping his distance, because the look of the armaments some of them were packing was rather unnerving.

Uh... Gas Nebulae or space clouds doesn't work like that... But thanks for the praise though

Terraforming will start soon.

I did? I sort of simply went with it

"There you go, good as new," Dust said after he helped patching up a slightly injured mare, and then sent her off to her mother. He, never thought life would take a drastic turn -- one day, he was writing books, now looking around; stranded someplace far from the comfort of his books, attacked by an unknown party and forced to flee through a Gate, riddled with some light bruises here and there. An event which he always thought possible only on the underside of a book cover, and yet, there he was among the survivors of the attack, administering basic assistance. The thought of death by suffocation crept in his mind, although, he was optimistic that they would run out of supplies first -- neither is good. Then it hit him, supplies, he noticed some crates lying around. Still... how long would they last, not sure whether anypony realizes this.