19 November 2013 @ 11:27 pm
[There's the drumming of fingers in apparent boredom and the video is slightly off centre, looking over Tony's shoulder instead.]

I take it there's three different events circulating around right now. One apparently rather benign and the other two of the same event, but from different perspectives. If we're lucky, the events that occurred won't be repeated, but since when were we ever that lucky?

So far two options appear to be either hallucinate jawdropping monsters and there's something out there that eats the bodies you gun down or turn into one yourself, but remain unaware of it. [His hands pause and his gaze moves to a point past the video.] In the interests of self-preservation I ask no one try eat me if the latter is true. I'm already dying, there's no need to speed it up and I'm sure cancer makes the flesh taste horrid.

[He continues on cheerfully, his hands resuming their drumming. Now the lack of eye contact makes him look thoughtful rather than avoidant.]

And if it seems relevant to anyone I've always associated the name Schue with a tv show with singing in it. Although there was definitely no singing from what I remember, just getting shot.

[ooc: and if anyone with death related powers wants to call him out on it... he will actually die a little bit further down his canon.]
 
 
17 September 2013 @ 11:38 pm
[Q looks completely wrecked. The lack of sleep that the Tranquility has so kindly blessed him with has left him looking almost on death's door, bags under his eyes and his clothes and hair dishevelled. Apparently, however, insomnia prompts either genius or madness and around him are a plethora of papers and diagrams, repeatedly scribbled out and redrawn with blue and red pen. Q rubs his bloodshot eyes and smiles slightly up at his audience.]

Hello, there. So these past few months have been rather hectic and it got me thinking. [That and more cups of tea than he would care to count.]

So the universe is endless, yes? A giant mass of endless stars. As our telescopes get stronger and stronger and we look out into the void of space, we keep finding more to look at. We cannot find its horizon.

[He rocks on the balls of his feet and begins to rifle through his papers.]

Yet a recent theory suggested that while it's endless, it isn't some vast, infinite mass. Instead, it loops back on itself. Time and space is...a doughnut.

[He holds up a complex diagram filled with numbers and various intersecting circles up to the camera.]

If we look far enough into the distance, we can see ourselves and it is my belief that the people, the things which we are witnessing on The Tranquility are either ourselves or the ship's past or future catching up on us. The jumps, in my opinion, are literal, as we dot from place to place, picking up fragments of time.

[He lets out a sigh and scratches his head.]

Fuck me if I know who Smiley is though.
 
 
08 September 2013 @ 08:58 pm
[ when the feed first comes on, it’s just of jo, sitting at a bar that should be recognizable to anyone who has ventured into the space bar at all in the last couple of months. jo seems fairly relaxed, sitting at one of the bar stools with one leg crossed over the other, her elbow leaning on the counter. she’s watching something off to her side for a brief moment before she turns back to the feed and smiles. ]

Guess this would be a good time to say welcome to the Tranquility to all the newbies. It sucks, so get used to that. I’m Jo, and I help run the Space Bar. All the free alcohol you could ever want, thanks to the lockers.

[ Wichita’s been fussing with a few bottles behind the bar, back to the camera, mostly just rearranging them for no reason, like it matters what order they’re in or whatever. but maybe it does, because it’s not just Generic Shitty Space Booze anymore. like hey, check out the space bar, suddenly looking very legit. not that it’s all out in the open, no. they’re not dumb. her hands rest on her hips as she steps back to take a look, only vaguely aware that Jo’s been recording, but.. they did decide to make this little announcement, so. okay. she’ll turn around and give the comm a nod, even though she’s not sure that she’s even in the frame until she moves to stand next to Jo’s seat. her arms cross on the bar as she leans on it, shaking her bangs out of her face to give it a good looking-over, like she can see every single person that’s watching the feed right now. ]

I’m Wichita, and basically if you ever have plans of getting drunk somewhere that isn’t all alone in some depressingly boring part of the ship, we’re your new best friends. And don’t listen to anybody that tells you the booze sucks and music sucks, it’s not that bad. The booze we get each jump isn’t high-end Earth stuff, and the music is just- reminiscent of a much happier, weirder time.

[YOOOO I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT blares from the speakers and she doesn’t even flinch. ]

And for those of you who don’t know, last jump we took a little joyride over to a ship called the Cyllene. Got out before the ship went murderous, thank god, and didn’t leave empty handed. [ the grin on jo’s face is more than just a little cocky. they made bank from their pirating, after all, and by bank she means all the new bottles plus some unopened boxes behind the bar. ] This shit ain’t free, though. [ she turns it back around to face her and wichita, back to business. ] We’re up for trades, favors, and manual labor of the shirtless-and-attractive variety.

[ Wichita snorts a laugh and nods ] Seconding the shirtless-and-attractive variety. Though if you want, you’re free to harass the current bartenders for shirtless-and-attractive service too. [ a beat ] Not us, but the guys. [ trollololol ]

Oh- [ jo takes the communicator back, turning back to her. ] And just to throw it out there, if anyone has any REO Speedwagon- CDs or iPods or whatever- I’ll do anything short of… [ she trails off, thinking, before shaking her head. ] Actually, no, I’ll do just about anything for some Kevin Cronin. So if you have some- trade?

Crappy alcohol is all still free. As is the incredible service and a chance to not be totally antisocial. But ask for Jo or Wichita if you want any of the good stuff. And- [ jo’s eyes will suddenly get very dark and very intimidating. ] if anyone even tries to touch our loot, you’ll wish you didn’t.

[ and then she just smiles, all threatening looks gone. ] See y’all later, then. [ have a two-fingered salute, a peace sign from wichita, and then the feed ends. ]




[ ooc: it's pretty obvious, but just in case, wichita is in navy and jo's in black, and both are open to respond to this post! we're also going to be putting up an open log for the space bar! ]

 
 
03 August 2013 @ 10:41 am
[It seems ridiculous that she'd want to have something be on video when she looks the way she does, but so it goes. As it stands, you're greeted at an unusually early hour by a woman with mussed hair all wrapped up in her blanket with red eyes and a frown. She speaks shakily, obviously a bit bothered by whatever is going on.

And oddly enough, it has nothing to do with the strange occurrences going on on the ship. No, it's a more mundane thing.]


I shouldn't have the capacity for that, but... I think I had a dream. Not a good one. I woke up like this and my pillow was wet and my chest hurt and I'm completely disturbed right now.

This isn't supposed to happen. A moment used to feel like an eternity to me, but now I sleep and everything goes by so quickly. This time it was terrible. I feel terrible.

[She's all alone, and she hates being alone. She's used to a million people needing her every day.

Pathetically:]


Help.
 
 
02 August 2013 @ 06:51 pm
[Click. Oh, look. Some of you might recognize this face, even if it's on the wrong person. But never mind that Irene, Poppy has decided long ago that she's little more than an impostor.]

Right. Good evening, passengers. My name is Poppy Chadwick - I'm a reporter of sorts back home, and there's a question I'd like to ask you all so I can get a little more familiarized with the nature of our current... crew.

[The pause is deliberate, but not exactly suspenseful.]

Where I come from - I don't mean just London, I mean my world - there exist several humans who were born with super powers, most of which serve the community as superheroes. [Poppy is one of them! But she isn't going to spoil that for you yet. There's an issue called secret identity, and she's trying to figure out how she's going to work around that, if at all.] Is there such a thing where you come from? It's hard to imagine a world without them, but I've come across several kinds of people I wouldn't have imagined having in it, either, so. There we have it.

I thank you for your time in advance.
 
 
30 June 2013 @ 04:45 pm
[ A quick, organized opening here! America stands in his quarters, his little gray alien friend in the background, seeming busy drawing on a piece of paper. Don't mind him, he's just an alien doing his thing (and never leaves America's side.)
America's posture is surprisingly straight, and he takes a breath. ]


Yo yo yo, you guys! Haha, Right, yeah. Just sayin'-- let's not totally forget that at some hella estimated time from when I arrived here, it was June --pffff-- SOMETHING or another, 2013. This means like, woah, all those star-spangled decorations are poppin' up at every craft store and bitches trying to plan their BBQs! It's really fucking awesome. Why? Hah, are you stupid? Cause it's my birthday on the 4th of July. BOOYAH!

Now! Who the shit knows what the date is now, or where you've come from, maybe the 4th of July didn't exist, but I'm telling you-- telling you now, bro-- I'm not going a round without having a CELEBRATION one way or another! Crazy-weird spooky-suspicious haunted space ship or NOT! Hahaha! Even if it may not be the precise date, this is a time to reflect on the LIBERTY and the FREEDOM of America!

So yeaaaaah, YEAHHH, HAHAHA-- basically, YEAH, I AM saying, we should totally throw a party for me. It may not be the same with the hottie chicks in bikinis and the grill outs and fireworks, BUT, we can still reflect on America and how great it-- and -- I am.

[ A beat. ]

Maybe have a drink or two! I can handle my booze well!
That aside! I don't think I've properly introduced myself over the network. You can call me Alfred F. Jones, and I'm one of the three Nations on this ship. You got some beef about it or questions, man? Talk to me! I'll be glad accurately to fill you in about us!

I'm also pretty happy to bro it out with you dudes and lend a hand or two with anything. I'm pretty good with a gun if that means anything! Well, right! That's all! Tell me what you think!

[ A salute, then he turns it off. ]
 
 
13 June 2013 @ 08:57 pm
Soooo... hey. I'm Sam. You guys probably met me before - I've lost a few years, and, uh. I guess I don't remember the last few trips here. So if anybody'd like to fill me in about - whatever the hell I did around here, I'd love to refresh my memory.

[Not that he could, either way. He's a babyface (who still looks a bit like he got into a barfight).]

Actually, I wanted to ask - anybody got any useful books? Outside of this place, I mean. Anything with actual - information. Nonfiction stuff, old age books, whatever.
 
[It's been about a week since Sam got aboard the ship, and really, he's mostly been trying to find anything to occupy his time in the library. Yeah, yeah, he's a nerd or whatever; Dean's probably said anything you could say about his bookworm stuff. But he's not too content with the selection, and as he's scanning through the holographic consoles; the green-glow plays off his face as he sighs, leaning back to talk to the comm. Hi everyone, I'm a moose, how's it going.]

 I'm not really finding anything remotely helpful here - not much of a surprise, considering everything else I've read on the network about this place... [He squints up at the hologram, shaking his head.] A ship like this without anything helpful in the library? I guess everyone's pretty much already guessed something got rid of anything important here. Now all you've got is...

[what the hell is this - he half-laughs, throughly amused and repulsed as he reads the passage aloud]

"Captain Haroldo set his phasers to love as the exotic alien princess ran her hands down his glistening abs..."

[He trails off, and whatever he reads in his head after that is clearly beautiful enough to make him laugh aloud.]



Dude, gross. Look, Dean, this stuff was practically made for you. 

[:)))))]

[Not much later, he includes a quick little encryption - it was kinda interesting, to mess with. Go technology. More importantly... there's someone he wants to - meet? Re-meet? He's not even sure what to call it, but he knows that it's better to have a chat sooner than later.]


[To Jo Harvelle // Encrypted 50%]

Hey, uh... I hope I'm doing this right.

Jo?


 
 
05 June 2013 @ 10:56 pm
[The broadcast begins mid-sentence, the video at a funny angle, as though the comm device has been physically tossed aside. Please ignore the dusting of something over the image. There's a slightly scruffy blonde man standing there, near a bowl, and his head is bent over something...]

--got a damn eggshell in there, hold on.

[Beside him is a brunette with slight bed-hair and pursed lips.]

Don't take it out with your fingers. Use a spoon.

You're acting like I was going to use my hand. So now I am.

[He slowly starts to put his hand in the bowl...]

I don't know where those fingers have been. [Except she has. And she's keeping it to herself.]

You do it, then.

[It's about that time that he knocks into the device again. Hawkward.]

Did you turn the thing on?

[A look of confusion crosses her face before she realises what he meant.]

No, I didn't. At least I don't think I did. [A pause.]

...

[He picks it up and looks directly into the device's camera.]

She can't cook.

You'll pay for this later, Barton.

[With an indignant huff, she cuts the feed.]


[ooc; Clint is red, Bela is green. Feel free to see them in the galley-type-area or give them a little hell.]
 
 
25 May 2013 @ 04:42 am
[It's taken a few months but Q has finally run out of things to toy and tinker with. He's attempted to hack his communicator to no end, he's wiped his laptop twice already and tetris can only keep him occupied for so long. As such, he needs some more hardware, particularly if he wants to make any discoveries about the ship, and he's forced to make a public post to ask for it. Armed with social shyness under the pretence of security, he's decided to write a text post. At least that way he has enough time to carefully consider what he says before he submits it to the world.

Hello everyone. My name's Charlie and I work in communications. I'm a bit of a hobbyist in regards to technology, though on the Tranquility I'm a little short on supplies. I feel a tad uncomfortable attempting to pull the ship apart. [That and he's already tried.] So I was wondering if anyone had any spare communicators or technology from back home which they don't need which they might be able to lend me. I don't mind if it's broken or functioning incorrectly. If it had a battery or wires in it at some point, I probably want it.

Although it's not much, in return I can offer one of these which I have made:


[He inserts a clip of a handmade version of a piggy cook, though it's definitely more of a robot than a pig. It's crafted out of odd bits of metal and cutlery, with a shirt made out of a bedsheet. Presentation has never quite been Q's forte.]

They aren't particularly beautiful, though the mechanics are good and I thought they might provide some form of novelty.
 
 
[Takeshi has had a lot on his mind, lately. Some days, he wants to run to his most precious people and hug them and tell them how much he loves them--some days, he wants to call them names only good little boys call the people who raise them do. But then there are some days where he gets scared: his dad at home loves him, takes care of him, supports him. He says Takeshi is his kid. Takeshi believes him. But now he's in space with these new... he wants to call them parents. They feel like parents--the good kind, he thinks, anyway. He's mostly just used to the kind that let him down. 

Do they like him back? Like a son? Do they even want a son? Is he being bad, having so many people he wants like this? What if--they go away, when he tells them all this? He's scared of being alone again. He doesn't want them to go away. So... he asks Reaper for a favor, and once the message is encrypted good and proper, he asks the community a few things.

Grown ups tend to know things like this, right...?]


[ENCRYPTED // LOCKED FROM HEATHER AND NETHERLANDS (sorry guys)]

I... There's one, two [he counts them off just in case y'all need that visual] people I like a lot on the ship that... I mean, I like everybody, but these two are special! Heder and Mr. Ned--he works in the garden--they take good care of me and give me food and give me baths and they're nice to me, 'cept when I'm doing things that aren't good to do. But that's 'cuz they protect me! They're not my real mom and dad--but should I... if--should I call them that? Will they still like me if I do? I don't want them to think I'm being bad. I want them to keep being like my parents... I wanna call them that...

What if they don't like me no more?

'Cuz before, I didn't have good parents. And then I found my new dad at home--he's the best and strongest!

Will he be mad if I had more than, than--just him as a papa? Will he be mad if I had more? Can I have two dads and a mom, even if I had real parents before?

[This is all just so confusing. He's not sure what to do. He re-counts off on his fingers, adding the other 'parents' in his life, frowning. There's his dead dad and his mom-who-didn't-like-him and her mean boyfriend--but he doesn't count, right? And then there's Kaze and now...]

I think I have too many moms and dads... I think that's okay... I don't know. What do you think? What should I do...?

...

I just don't want them to leave if I say.
 
 
15 April 2013 @ 06:33 pm
I cannot decide whether to find this rather unexpected set of circumstances to be fascinatingly new or simply very aggravating. [No, that's actually a lie. He's very annoyed--mostly because it put a kink to his current on-going bid for power plot to usurp his brother's ascension to the throne.] However, that is not the point of this message. I am merely pointing out that I am obviously new to this ship and as such I would endeavor to enlist some form of aid for but one problem worrying me; one that, at the least, could be addressed immediately.

I am looking for someone. To be precise, I am looking into the possibility that one or several persons may have have arrived or awoken at the time that I did. Their names:

Thor
Sif
Fandral
Hogun
Volstagg

If you have met any of these individuals or have any information concerning them: I apologize for any uncultured behavior quite probably displayed by them and I would like a word. Preferably about their whereabouts. If you are any one of those individuals: I am blaming you for this folly and, as usual, I am certain I will be the one to fix your unfortunate mistake.
[Because it never failed to occur in such fashion. According to his own view-point.] Be patient, and contact me through this network.
 
 
11 April 2013 @ 11:49 am
So now that we've got ship kittens, it got me thinking about some things.

Anybody here have a family? Are they with you here? Or your best friend? Hell, even your pets. I'm kinda curious as to the state of things, especially right after the jump.


[Locked to Ult!Tony and Bela:]

I'm fine, just in case you were gonna ask.
 
 
09 April 2013 @ 10:30 am
[the feed opens up on a familiar mask, before panning back to Francis. he hasn't eaten, hasn't slept, since the jump, and it shows, both in appearance and the bitter, tired way he talks]

Figures you'd still be here. Everyone else is gone, but you stick around. [short, hollow laugh] Just like home, huh?

[he runs a hand through his hair, takes a deep breath, and properly addresses the network this time]

Yeah, so. I know he had some friends here, but Azari's gone. He wasn't in his pod. [man he just feels tired] Azari's gone, James and Torunn are gone, Chase is dead - are any of my Avengers still around? [and really, guys, do you want to be? bad track record going with his team right now]

Whatever, just figured I'd let you guys know. Gonna go patrol if anyone needs me.
 
 
11 March 2013 @ 12:56 am
[ There’s a near on six foot, completely albino man in heavy medieval armor, two massive swords strapped to his back, with a nasty scar down the left side of his face that bisects an eye that looks more like a demon possesed cat’s eye than a human’s. And he is... tilling a small garden. In some corner of the oxygen garden.

The comm device is set up against a nearby plant, more just tossed there than arranged, and gives a kind of skewed view, but he’s sort of more interested in multitasking while giving a monotone announcement. ]


If there’s someone this land belongs to, let me know. Otherwise, try to avoid stepping here. [ He’ll put up some kind of marker later, whatever. ] Once it grows, if you take anything, you owe me money.

[ That bit of totally manly gardening done, he’s pulling out some twine and sticking down twigs to make a perimeter around the area. See, marked off. All nice and neat. So don’t step on his shit, please. And onto something of more importance, he glances up to the screen - mild and unperturbed in demeanor. ] My name is Geralt of Rivia, and I’m looking for Witcher’s work. If that doesn’t mean anything to you - I hunt and kill monsters. If you need something done, contact me.

[ There’s a sound of a plant shifting off to the side, and he seems to remember something, tacking it on matter-of-factly. ]

Word to the wise. There’s a one-eyed elf hiding over- [ Glancing up. Squinting. Pointing. ] -there. If you look human, he’ll probably shoot you. Those less durable may want to avoid the area for a while. [ Ahem, carrying on. ]

A last thing - does anyone know where I can find a very strong alcohol? I need it for an alchemical base. [ Pause. ] And to get shitfaced.

Thanks.
 
 
02 March 2013 @ 04:18 pm
[Today, LB is fully decked out in her Octopus suit to address the network. It might be odd, since she wasn't presently in danger, but she still had a good reason for it. Also, keep in mind that her voice is an oddly distorted mixtures of her normal voice and a deeper, gruffer voice.]

Good evening, Tranquility. Or is it day? Heeheehee? Who knows, in space.

Well now, despite getting mixed up in the hallways, the latest adventure was a little fun, don't you think~?

[She gives an exaggerated, playful shrug. Yes, she's being dead serious here.]

But that's not why I'm making my message -- hahaha -- judging from the reactions of others I've run into, I'm assuming about half of you are loading up your guns in preparation to slay me. So as a common courtesy, let me get one thing straight: I am not one of the monsters running around here! So quit shooting at me!

[After three times of being shot at or almost being shot at, LB was getting really sick of having her life threatened for no good reason. Dammit, Zer0, Mordecai, and Lilith, what was wrong with you guys?!

She then points to the camera with a metal tipped finger, continuing.]


So if you still feel like shooting me, I'm going to shoot right back? Or maybe I'll put a tentacle through your stomach -- heheheh -- depends on my mood. So don't fuck with me, got it?

[Right, right. This was all starting to deviate from informative to more threatening than she intended to. Raising her hand to one of her straps, she rubs at it as she reels back.]

Uh, anyway, nice talking to you all.



[OOC: She'll be out of her suit and speaking with her regular voice by the time people start replying. She just wanted to play show and tell, okay.]

 
 
18 February 2013 @ 09:01 am
[ There's no telling how much effort it takes for Bruce to actually look tired in a video feed. It's something he's taught himself not to do: awake is awake, and stolen moments of sleep are sleep--cautious, batarang under the pillow sleep. The moments have to be separate, with very little in between, and so Bruce hardly knows tired any more.

What does the trick in the end - what really gives him the worn, haunted look of a man desperately looking for something that he can't find - is the memory of his parents, ghostly and just out of reach, talking to him with words that he just can't hear; a residual image left behind by the mask. He adopts it, weaves it into his story: gaunt, eyes dark from supposed lack of sleep, Bruce fumbles his device and turns it on as though he's just woken - in fact he's been awake for hours, scheming - staring bleakly down into the lens.
]

This place gets to you even in your sleep. [ A deliberate shudder, eyes jumping from one corner of his room to the other, as though something might leap from the shadows. ] Is anyone else awake?

Private to Crane )
 
 
13 February 2013 @ 04:49 pm
[Somehow, WALL-E has gotten the network to work! Well, it wasn't too hard. The technology here is similar to back home in terms of how advanced it is, and WALL-E has always been good at pushing buttons and such. It took him longer to figure out how to actually type with his new fingers, and then longer to figure out how to type coherent words.]

[Look how much progress he's made!]


HELLO !

AM WALL-E

TALK NOT GOOD

AM LEARN

HELP LEARN ?

QUERY:

EVE WHERE ?
 
 
09 February 2013 @ 02:17 am
[ Wichita is not. a happy. camper. and it's very obvious by her tone, the fact that this is a voice transmission instead of a video and the fact that she hasn't left the bar since she got there earlier today.

in fact, a note to all you Space Babylon regulars, the doors to the bar have been locked ( by her ) and there's no music coming from inside it either. just normal, boring silence. on the transmission, you can probably hear the slosh of booze inside of a near empty bottle ( it was nearly empty when she got here, mind. some of the bottles stopped refilling themselves each jump. isn't that great? ) and the smack of her lips once she finishes her sip before she starts talking
]

To everyone that was fr- that knew Brian Kinney, crew member 006 » 033, I've got some bad news. Or good news, if you're an optimist, which I'm not. He went home last jump. Went to sleep here, woke up not-here.

Which I guess puts me in charge of the bar.

[ hence the doors being locked and the general 'fuck off' vibe of the place ]

Are there any bartenders on board that wouldn't mind working for free? 'Work' is a loose term, I mostly just sit around drinking with people whenever I'm here. Or if anybody wants to.. be here regularly and help make sure it doesn't turn into a crapfest, let me know. Assholes need not apply. [ because nobody will ever be a better asshole than Brian. ..wait, ew. she takes another sip, and only cuts herself off when she hears the tell-tale 'whoa whoa whoa!' of her mini Wall-E bumping into something in the near-dark. ]

Did your light go out again, bud? [ the one she fashioned onto his front in case the power went ut again. or, in the case, when Wichita decides she can't deal with colored strobe lights guiding the little cleaning bot's path ] Here, c'mere- [ aaaand the feed cuts ]
 
 
06 February 2013 @ 11:21 pm
Back home, I told someone that we're all going to Hell and that we might as well enjoy the ride. It made me think about a few things.

[There's the sound of a drink being poured. God only knew how many she had already but her words are a little slurred.]

Anyone who thinks that being here will end up with anything good in the end is deluded. People have died, others gone missing in the depths of this hellhole and came out a few pennies short of a pound afterwards.

[A pause follows while she sips from her glass.]

You'll either die on board or go crazy. There's nothing in-between.

Make the most of the time you have here. Get pissed, have sex, get high if you're into that sort of thing. Gorge yourself stupid. Whatever gets your rocks off.

More importantly? Enjoy it.

[The feed ends there.]
 
 
04 February 2013 @ 02:10 pm
[ Hello network, this would be the first time you've seen Annabeth wide-spread, but she figured hanging around for two months was enough of a 'grace period' before she could show her face.

So here she is. Kind of tired, kind of going a little crazy. That's what you get for having demi-god ADHD powers and very little to expend your energy on. ]


I spoke with someone about this before, but I was curious- [ Her voice is fairly steady, maybe a little more serious sounding than she means it to. ] Since there are people from so many different universes and worlds, I was wondering. Do you have your own versions of...gods, I guess?

I'm not speaking religiously. Not necessarily. Mostly I mean beings of power. Greater powers than you'd have normally populating the world. Back home, we had...stories. Of Greek and Roman Gods. There were others, too, but those tended to take precedence in my life. [ Understatement? I'd say so. ] I'm just curious if there were any other variations out there. What they could do, whether or not they did it in the first place...

[ Annabeth trails off, her eyes drifting off to the side for less than a moment before they're back again, renewed with a sense of purpose. ]

I'd also like to speak with anyone on board who used to be these...beings. I don't want to call them gods, because that might mean something else in other places, but I'd like to know if you're here, and what possible changes have occurred since coming on board. It'd be appreciated.

[ And then she nods, having made her point, and shuts off the feed. ]