21 February 2016 @ 03:32 pm
( to cut a long story short, there were two new arrivals, this month. mila had been elusive by design, seeking out the half-finished molded tree that she'd been working on before her absence - the overlay of a few months memories is nothing compared to the hell of a dozen lifetimes blurring together when they first arrived - and clinging to it as the last familiar thing. protecting it from the fire. praising it for how it had grown the way she wanted it to.

she does, eventually, have to acknowledge something beyond her tree. so.

very blandly, and in a voice that will be familiar to some who were present for the announcements she periodically made on behalf of medical or xenogen-- )


I leave you people alone for ten minutes and you set the fucking jungle on fire.

( what's that about. )
 
 
[ jax is leaned back in one of the seats on the gunnery observation deck, twisting his heavy rings round his finger. the comm is propped ostensibly on his monitor while jax slouches back, ill at ease. ]

While we're chewing over Odessa's offer, I got something else to put on the table.

[ more like a heads up. jax's expression is serious, the twist of his rings a more clear show of anxiety than he's displayed on comms in his entire stretch on the ship. ]

Our rescuers've got us surrounded. Sensors are picking up a mess of ships out there. I figured that's about as worthy of discussion as everything else she and her new best friend are puttin' on the table.
 
 
09 July 2015 @ 11:07 pm
Tests conducted on blood samples taken from the prisoner quarters have identified DNA previously isolated in samples taken from gurneys in the labs.

[ No hello, no good evening, Tranquility. Erik delivers the news with flat affect, leaned lazily off center in his seat. He’s wearing a white lab coat, one eye masked blind behind a patch and the other set dead on the comms device. Speaking of blood, the fingerprints smudged into his lapel are a familiar shade of reddish brown, for those who’ve been on board long enough to ruin a shirt or two.

He doesn’t look happy to be here. These days he rarely looks happy to be anywhere. ]


[ And Charles is here too, his own comms device sat in front of him and transmitting nothing, fingertips occasionally tapping the screen in favour of shuffling around paper notes.

He also isn't happy to be here, but he combed his hair and everything. His lab coat is clean. ]


The gurneys, along with reinforced cages, appeared on level two of the science department several months ago. Relics, perhaps, of the genetics lab that came before. As for the samples themselves, they contained evidence of human and animal hybridisation.

The blood stains also possessed inactive nanites, which meant I wasn't able to identify them definitively using the nanite technology that's been made available. However, I took some micrographs, and compared them with micrographs taken previously, and they were visually identical to active nanites with programming functions like
[ and you can hear the disdainful air quotes as he reads it off his device ] "manticore advancement" and "manticore adaptation".

The manticores were prisoners. They were moulded by Van Rijn’s scientists.

[ Erik is more concise. He seems to be having some trouble separating his teeth. ]

Naturally Eszter has been mum on the subject of interplanetary conquest.

More vocal on the topic of saving the human race as she knows it. [ Somehow, Charles' input doesn't really undermine what Erik just said. He elaborates; ] I believe that what went on in the science department was kept a secret -- the majority of the original crew had no idea what was happening. They believed the Tranquility was their salvation and hope. I was able to get-- this impression from Charlotte Danaiu. What she knows is rather limited, but what she has access to knowing is. Greater.

[ This isn't Charles' favourite part, because it feels beyond his usual abstraction. He manages not to glance at Erik. ]

The presence I've talked about taking root in the ship, that has access to our minds, that has abilities we've begun to tap into-- upon talking to Charlotte, and reading her mind, I received the impression that it came here on account of the manticore experiments. I don't know how, or what it wanted, and I also know that no one on the ship intended it to happen, but-- it's what I think Resnik meant, when she talked about retribution for their sins. Something about what they were doing brought it about.

[ And he finishes there, not so eloquently, but unsure how to talk about it much further. ]

We’ve decided to call it Moira.

[ Also eloquent. Erik picks up again before Charles can interrupt with more than just a 'seriously?' side along glance: ]

We’ve consolidated what we know about it and the humans we’ve encountered from this universe into a table anyone can update. I’m attaching a link to the file to this transmission.

The aim is transparency and education. We should all be on the same page.


[ He leans forward to disengage the device, filling the frame. ]

Thank you.

[ OOC: Erik is maroon, dark green is Charles. FILE LINK - this is an IC document, feel free to contribute with IC knowledge and experiences. Characters need not feel obligated to identify themselves when making entries. ]
 
 
16 May 2015 @ 01:52 pm
[ Charles Xavier has managed to time this video for a moment when he isn't bleeding from the face, but his face is quite white, like maybe he has been not so long ago. When he speaks, his tone is level and informative-- but in most other ways, a certain amount of anxiety radiates off of him.

One of his eyes has blood blotting over white at the corner from burst blood vessel. ]


I wanted to share something I found when I was asked to examine Felix Laurens. Some of you know I have psychic abilities and-- well, now all of you do. [ Ha. Ahh. Anyway. ] I sought to find out what-- prevented him from speaking directly, or caused him to behave in strange ways, and a little about how he came to be here at all. Last we knew, he was dead.

What I found was a second presence, buried deep in his mind. His consciousness was separated from it by a sort of psychic, membranous barrier, which I don’t know the nature of. In my haste, I broke through the barrier so I could understand what it was, and-- initially, it was just. Sounds. Memories. Thousands of them, and I wasn't able to make any sense of it. But there was something else, too, something intelligent and aware that seemed to see me, like a single searching eye, and tried to-- do something. Pull me in, is what it felt like, to all that noise. Felix helped break off the connection before that could happen, and I experienced symptoms not unlike the ones we're experiencing now.

[ Charles hesitates. Taps his fingers against the desk. Continues, to the point. ]

It's in everyone. Everyone's mind.

This barrier is, anyway. It reads to me as being "thinner" [ you can hear the quotation marks in his tone ] for those who have been here longer, and "thinner" for those that attended Shepard's recon mission a while back. I haven't looked beneath it since I observed it in Laurens, but only because I fear that I'd find the same thing.

It's also-- I believe-- causing the rolling side effects we're all experiencing now, or has something to do with them. I've observed that there is a resistance happening, a ripping, like the barrier is trying to detach from our minds, and then when we seek physical contact and the symptoms abate, the barrier strengthens. Perhaps it isn't a barrier at all, but a--

[ He stops. He hadn't want to ramble and speculate. ]

Study is ongoing, anyway, about what it means for us, what it does to us. I'll put up my own findings in the archival timeline, and keep it up to date. If-- if anyone like me is looking to confirm this phenomenon, I can't stress enough that it's important you go carefully. It will overpower you, given the chance.

[ Grim public service announcement executed, he tries to consider how to sign off. ]

For those that are newer, my name is Professor Xavier, with Xenogen. Sorry about all that.

[ Aaand cut. ]
 
 
[ By the time Blake gets to writing everything up, it's early in the morning on the 7th, some time around 0700. He doesn't particularly enjoy addressing the network, especially not like this, but the information is definitely something that needs to be shared. ]

At approximately 0415 this morning, and according to witness reports, the individual identified as Antti Basher escaped medical quarantine and proceeded toward the main shuttle bay. At this time, it is believe that Basher made contact with Marcus Rothschild and Odessa Knutson. Basher later stated that their involvement was voluntary, but not premeditated.

The above mentioned individuals arrived at the main shuttle bay at 0421 and proceeded to power up a flight-capable shuttle at 432 by bypassing its main security protocols. Due to the small number of Flight Crew Members in attendance, the unsanctioned presence elicited immediate intervention.

Antti Basher was successfully apprehended in the Control Office by Flight Trainee John Blake, but not before accessing the airlock controls. At 0437 the shutter bay doors were opened without the appropriate warning protocols and authorization. This facilitated the escape of Odessa Knutson who currently remains at large. During this time, several members of the Flight Crew, Marcus Rothschild, and at least one unidentified individual were subjected to unsafe conditions caused by decompression.

At 0445 atmosphere reached and maintained satisfactory levels. The Flight Crew Members then discovered the body of the deceased Marcus Rothschild, the apparent cause of death cited as asphyxiation.

The circumstances surrounding Rothschild's death are currently under investigation.

For a information on obtaining a full report of this incident, please contact John Blake or Hoban Washburne.


[ If it sounds like a police report, well, there's a reason for that. ]
 
 
08 May 2015 @ 11:30 pm
( people acquainted with milagros would be forgiven for being concerned that her being seen making a video for the network is a harbinger of terrible things, because she doesn't exactly strike anybody as 'a social type'. in fairness, this is not a social message, but although she is the bearer of some bad news, it's largely housekeeping and her brisk attitude reflects that. the backdrop to her message is a desk in an office that will look familiar but not quite right to her patients-- all the right small touches, subtly wrong locations.

her serene air remains as it ever does, suggesting vaguely that she's waiting for something to impress her, and finds the universe slightly wanting. )


A few brief announcements on behalf of Medical and Xenogen.

To the first - I have recently left my position in the Medical department and taken one in Xenobiology and Genetics. This will affect none of my current patients, who I will continue to work with from my new space, but means that I will no longer be taking on medical cases without a referral through our CMO, William Tsang, who is welcome to bring patients to my attention at his discretion. Any of my current patients who wish to have a referral back to someone remaining in the med bay full time are free to speak with me about this at their leisure.

Further, to Xenogen, Professor Snape is no longer with us as of this past jump. If the professor was working with you, please speak with us at Xenogen to see that your case is referred to the next most appropriate member of our current team. If you have concerns about your referral, Professor Xavier is available to discuss them with you.

During the previous jump cycle, Professor Snape relinquished his authority as CXO back to Professor Xavier, who retains that role going forward and with whom you should also speak if you are interested in joining the department. Like all departments, we are experiencing a dearth of intelligent, inquisitive minds; we are currently looking for those of a scientific background to round out our team, but will consider other relevant expertise.

( and she's not allowed to veto people, apparently. god, charles, you'll let just anyone in. (yeah, he let her haughty ass in.) )
 
 
24 March 2015 @ 10:45 am
[ There is still a steely leanness to Caprica's -- Natasi's -- bony features, after her ordeal in the corridors months ago, but there's a restored vibrancy. A brightness, a smile, an ease and softness.

The natural-like lighting casting her hair bright platinum implies the Oxygen Gardens. ]


There's a chapel here, where they used to hold services. They wrote the names of those that have passed on the wall. These are different rituals of faith than I'm used to, but.

[ But. Her head tips. ]

Faith is universal. Galactic. I'm inviting you to visit the chapel in the Oxygen Gardens once every week, if you'd like the company, starting today. We can discuss the shape of faith in your worlds. The twining paths of fate. The face of god. Prayer, meditation, peace.

The flowers that decorate this place could always use replacing, if you favour more practical gestures.

Even if you don't believe, you're still welcome to join us. I would only ask you to keep an open mind [ a delicate, shaped eyebrow raises ] about faith, and the diversity of the people around you.

[ Humans. ]

So say we all.
 
 

[The most cryptic image-slash-message appears on the screen. Looks something like this:



Only repeated, like, twenty times in jumbled letters. Clearly someone was just trying to practice. There are a few other words before it, mostly little things like cat and dog and bird, sun and mat, hat. Eventually it becomes a child's curious voice as he addresses the people at large.]

Names are really -- special. I think. Don't you think names are special? Sometimes they mean things, but I dunno what mine means; do you know what yours means? I bet there's lots of really cool ones that mean a lot of really cool stuff. 

... Did you get to pick your own name? 'Cus mine's always been mine, since I was a baby. I don't remember anything else!

 
 
03 February 2015 @ 02:38 pm
Right.

[The feed is muffled for a moment, as if he's covering the input with his fingers. He is. It takes Cullen a few moments of shuffling around before he's got the communication device where it needs to be and the sound starts coming through a little clearer.]

My name is Cullen. I'm rather new around here. Before the, uh. Before this, I was the commander of a small army- prior to that, I served as a templar for over a decade. [A pause. Different worlds, different military factions, so it warrants a short explanation.] -the Templar Order is... it's like a holy order tasked with protecting others from the harmful effects of magic.

[Well, actually... ugh, close enough, also not really the point of this message. Moving on.]

Anyway, I've spent the past few weeks here familiarizing myself with the situation that everyone is in and in light of recent events, I'd like to offer my help. I'm not sure how the chain of command works here, but if I can be of assistance, then I'd be happy to.

[He moves to shut the feed off, but then as an afterthought-]

-also, can someone tell me where the training grounds are? If you have that sort of thing here? I feel like I've been wandering around in circles.
 
 
23 January 2015 @ 10:57 pm
[ The feed opens on the familiar view of the security offices, and the possibly very familiar view of Tyke looking really annoyed. Though central on the video, there are two young men stood behind her, one looking particularly sullen, the other sheepish but friendly. ]

For any of you newer to the ship, my name is Tyke, I'm head of security. I'd give you the usual rundown on what that means, but we've got more immediate shit to deal with. It's been reported that there's a creature called a boggart loose on the ship.

[ She says 'report' and 'boggart' half incredibly unimpressed, half irritated. ]

This boggart shouldn't pose an urgent threat, but it's still gonna be trying to freak people out.

[ At which point she decides she's not the one that should be explaining the details of weird magic monsters, and steps back enough to nudge Remus more fully in front of the camera.

He knew it was coming eventually, but Remus still gives Tyke a startled look, then Draco an expectant one, shuffling to the side to make more room for him in the frame. There's a long second before Draco moves an inch in a helpful direction, his expression stormy and focus cast past the camera lens like he's ignoring it as Remus addresses the network. ]


It's a nonbeing--a nonhuman spiritous apparition. It can't hurt you-- [ is a lie told out of the impulse to be reassuring, followed by a mild grimace and swift correction. (And a cynical glance aside from Draco.) ] It won't kill you. It might hurt you. We're very sorry about all of this.

It will appear as something that frightens you. Whatever you see, it's not real, but it is corporeal. And amortal. You can't kill it. Get away from it, and let one of us know where you saw it. If we can pin it down somewhere, we can take care of it.


[ No they can't. ]

It will help if you stay in pairs or groups. If it's trying to scare more than one person, it might make mistakes.

You might get lucky, [ because Draco had to chime in eventually. ] If you're a-- if you're non-magical, you'll probably be too dense to see it as anything but a figment of your imagination. 'course, maybe not now.

It'll probably be found in dark spaces, you know, waiting in your wardrobe or under your bed, or in the bathroom before you turn the light on, or--


[ Remus steps on his foot--placidly, but not very subtly. Not interested in letting anymore wizard squabbling get played out on the network, Tyke neatly steps in again. ]

We'll be working on containing and dealing with it. Stay in your rooms unless necessary, report any sightings, and keep your heads level.

[ The last thing she wants is real passenger on passenger harm done because of this thing stirring people up. To her side, Remus tightens his mouth in a way that's half smile and half wince, like well there you have it, and glances at Tyke to check for permission before he shuts off the feed. ]

[[ ooc: blue is tyke, red is remus and green is draco! ]]
 
 
11 January 2015 @ 02:38 am
This is Mystique again.

I'm reporting on the results of the Jump clock project. I won't recap the details there.

EXTERNAL MEASURE (passenger-fabricated)
Jump 37: 1,829 hours
Jump 38: 391 hours
Jump 39: 6,578 hours
INTERNAL MEASURES (shipboard systems)
Jump 37: 0 hours
Jump 38: 0 hours
Jump 39: 0 hours

These reports will be ongoing. I strongly advise that the next time anyone debarks, make an effort to estimate the time that's transpired since our stop on Arima.

Analyses and interpretations are welcome. Please be aware that our efforts at external videography failed. Basically, the Jump movement destroyed the equipment. I'll update about the trans-hull cartography project when there's something to update about. A bunch of weird and context-free numbers counts as 'something.'

I would like to commission timekeeping devices not linked to the native system as well, in the time between now and Van Rijn destroying us. Anyone up for it?
 
 
23 December 2014 @ 12:01 pm
We wouldn't happen to have a veterinarian on board, would we?

[Fortescue appears to be in her room, looking tired — exhausted, even — and rubbing at her forehead. Adding to the tired motif is the fact that her accent is downright aggressive. Her mother would have been scandalized. An Imperian accent is supposed to be light and graceful, after all.

Jazz is, for once, nowhere in the frame. That might be a first while on the Tranquility.]


I have a sick cat who could use some help.

[And nothing from her world is here, which means she's out of her depth as to how to help.]
 
 
21 December 2014 @ 10:59 pm
[Netherlands is in the Oxygen Gardens, looking more worried than pissy for once, brows upward- rather than downward-knit. Somewhere in the background there's a roughshod shed, and anyone who frequents the Gardens often enough will recognize that it's the second level, makeshift chicken coop a few meters behind, all locked up and uncharacteristically silent.

An unlit cigarette is jammed in the corner of his mouth; it bobs as he speaks.]


They're sick. The chickens.

[And by that he means: they're all sick. All the chickens. Every chicken. He takes a second to light his smoke, shifts his weight, and with the next he sails right past distressed and into something borderline despairing.]

Rabbit's sick too. Need someone to help him.

[... uh.]

Please.
 
 
12 December 2014 @ 06:09 pm
[When the picture slides into focus, it will be obvious to some of the passengers where this place is; considerably less so to others. The SEC office, fortunately, isn't the Tranquility's hottest vacation spot.

Head of Security, Tyke, sits in front of the comm device which is probably about expected.

However, William Tsang, the (erstwhile) Chief Medical Officer, sitting beside her is probably a little weird, especially given he's ash white and looks like he's about to throw up all over the camera. That isn't usually what guys with supernatural regeneration do. His hair has grown out raggedly in the past month, but he could look more disheveled or disoriented. He looks straight at the lens, is clear-eyed enough, when he says:]
Hello.

I've got a confession to make. The clusterfuck last cycle, people attacking each other, was my powers going out of control. It was most likely a function of recon syndrome, which amplified my abilities far beyond their usual scope, as well as eroding my control under stress. I'm sorry for all of it. Fortunately, Xenogen and Security have got notions for future prevention.


[Tyke rarely looks content to be in front of a camera, and all through William's talking, there's a pinch growing sharper between her brows - but when she speaks, her voice stays level and certain.]

We're gonna be keeping him under regular observation, done by those with the abilities to recognise and control any further abnormalities in his powers. If anything like the last incident looks like it's gonna start, we'll take the measures necessary to stop it. [Whatever measures those may turn out to be. There's a pause, the line of her mouth pressing hard, almost as if she's already expecting some particular kind of response to the next statement.] Containment and distance have no effect, and he's been determined not to be an immediate threat. He'll be released at the end of this broadcast.

I'm going to be stepping down from Chief Medical Officer and away from Medical Bay, [William adds. A beat. Despite that the statement is weighty enough to seem to demand an explanation, all he can think of is ‘duh,' so he doesn't.] Authority there defaults to Granny Weatherwax until or unless she defers to someone else. If anyone's got questions, I'll answer them as well as I can. Thanks for your attention.
 
 
16 November 2014 @ 07:29 pm
This is Sgt Brad Colbert, Security. Seems like a few individuals have gone completely fucking mad and are attacking others.

Ground rules: don't kill them. Pretty fucking sure it's not their choice. Don't fucking engage unless you can handle yourself.

Stay safe, stay in groups of lucid individuals, stay frosty.

[ the text message is accompanied by a SECURITY PING. locked to the best of his ability with the new network to sec individuals is the following: ]

First priority is keeping everyone safe. That includes the fucking mental ones. Separate them, detain them, put them in fucking brig. Work together, I don't want anyone fucking dying.

[ and he adds, a moment later: ] Tyke's indisposed.
 
 
06 November 2014 @ 09:59 pm
are you capable of basic self-defense and defense of others?
are you capable of functioning in a team at a capacity either at or above that of johanna mason?
are you interested in exploring sections of the tranquility normally advised to be off-limits?
have you voluntarily subjected yourself to having the letters SE and C emblazoned on your forearm?

if you answered yes to the first three questions and no to the fourth, please reply to this message stating your interest.

thank you.
 
 
06 November 2014 @ 09:48 am
[ Iiiiit's Edgeworth! It's Edgeworth looking a little bit worse for wear. His face is blotchy around the eyes. ]

Good day. Miles Edgeworth, with Security.

[ Edgeworth's introduction is terser than usual, and his face is decidedly ill-tempered. And his speech is considerably less formal than usual: a lot of his usual pomposity is gone, in the face of sheer crabbiness. Indeed, instead of polite administrative announcements going first, he hops right into a snappish lecture.

(There's a little bit of nervousness to this, under the surface. In a weird way, it might almost seem to the keen observer that he's sort of minimizing the gravity of this by framing it as a don't-be-stupid issue rather than a you-all-have-committed-criminal-deeds issue.) ]


Do not touch things that look suspicious. You all have been on the ship now for a minimum of a month and for a maximum of two years. You are all familiar with how things work by this point. You know perfectly well that there's no end to the death-traps that the ship sets. So I honestly do not know why I have to say this to a single one of you, but if - hypothetically - there's an eerie painting of one of your fellow passengers, perhaps don't mutilate it. Perhaps just walk past it. Perhaps ignore it. Honestly, you're all intelligent people; begin acting as such.

[ And then he crosses his arms even tighter, and scowls deeper, and says: ]

Anyone who has evidence that their depictions were tampered with by someone acting with malice aforethought, do come to me or one of my colleagues. Reckless stupidity is not something we have any interest in pursuing, since that would put rather too many of you in the brig. But any attempts to deliberately do harm to others, with awareness of the consequences, during the last incident - that will be dealt with.
 
 
03 November 2014 @ 06:56 pm
[ One Lily Potter shows up in-frame as soon as it focuses, for once not smiling but smirking just a little: it changes the plane of her face just like that. There's nothing really strange about the feed until she moves back: there in the background of the feed is one Remus J. Lupin laid out sweaty and graceless on the floor, though once he realizes he's visible he props up on his elbows to laugh. Before she speaks she reaches up to tie her hair back, glancing back at Remus before looking back to the camera. She looks a little sweaty and haggard maybe but otherwise fine: she was stressed and tired before, now she's exerted herself more. It's fine. There's still something lingering behind her eyes but it's hard to place what it is. ]
 
Hello, Tranquility.
 
[ Um. ]

Things have been a little stressful lately so it seemed like an idea to offer some contained and supervised sparring. Unfortunately I'm generally rubbish with physical combat—[ Felt pretty physical on my end Remus chimes in from the floor, only barely audible. It will be in a minute if you don't stop hamming it up Lily replies, sweet as anything while casually threatening a dude she lay out flat, before continuing. ]—but I was wondering if any other magic users were willing to give it a go. Nothing too intense, like I said, sparring, keep your skills in top shape.
 
I'm afraid I've already exhausted one taker. [ :) :) luv u Remus sorry she kicked ur butt ]
 
Anyway! We've overtaken a rec room on floor eleven so that we won't be in anyone's way or disturbing anyone. I'm medical staff so I can oversee if needed. We'll be here a bit, so feel free to stop by. Don't feel shy if you just want to watch, either.
 
Maybe it'll become a thing.

[ WIZARDS OUT. ]
 
 
04 November 2014 @ 02:35 pm
[ Charles has dimmed the lights in this corner of the science department, working by lamp light; he has his comms device angled against something so he doesn't have to hold it in address. He's seated at a work station, with a mug of some form of beverage just in view.

It's been a while since he's done this. ]


Hello. This is Professor Charles Xavier, of Xenogen.

[ A little different, from the last time he was here. Beardier. Those that know him more recently can mark the haircut. There is scattered grey amongst the dark. He speaks plainly, like a man who has long since accepted that everything he has to say about this place is ridiculous, so let's just get on with it, shall we. ]

Since the power outage and mural phenomena, there's been some changes on level three of the science department. Inexplicable ones. Equipment we've not seen before has appeared, along with shifts in space and work stations to accommodate new ones appearing out've

[ fucking ]

nowhere.

If anyone has experience with high tech lab equipment, I'd like some assistance in identification.

From what I can tell so far, I suspect we're looking at appliances that have much to do with genetics research, or-- [ he hesitates, as if unsure he wants to commit to deduction, but oh well ] --nanotechnology.

On that note, for experts in the latter thing, or anyone who holds some familiarity with it at all, I'd very much appreciate a conversation, if you're amenable. I'd like to get a better grasp on the topic.

[ One hand goes to take up his tea (it's probably tea), and the other goes to switch off the feed, with one parting word; ]

Cheers.

[ ooc ; for anyone taking him up on high level science talks, i fully anticipate some handwavium as needed, so come at me. ]
 
 
16 October 2014 @ 07:43 pm
Color me curious. Since we're such a diverse group of people - how many of you are from "Earth"? I don't care what version of it, I don't care what time you're from. Considering that we're all supposed to be from different galaxies and times, why is it your wonderful planet that gets picked on?

Not that I'm minding, there are so many people from my own galaxy that I'd hate to see again (though, if there's an old man called Ben Kenobi or Obi Wan still hiding out here, I still want my money), it's just odd that it's that galaxy that gets all the fun.

Or, you know, tell me where you're from. How are you? What's Earth like? Something - it's just bugging me.