[There's a young woman looking at the screen, her stare calm and determined. And despite what the icons say, she doesn't have makeup on, sadly.]

It's been a couple of days since we've arrived on this ship and, besides having one discussion with what's left of the crew, we're no closer to figuring out how to go home or what to do around here. I'm stating the obvious here, of course, but several people have already spoken up about a need for us all to actually meet now that we have a slightly better understanding of what's going on.

Like it or not, whether we were brought here for a reason or because of some fluke in the system, we are stuck here until further notice.

We need to actually make an attempt to work together. If we can find out how this ship works and how to take care of one another - to provide support, medical assistance, and anything else - then we have a much higher chance of survival out here and we can find a way home. [A beat.] Somehow.

[She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. It's more obvious now that she's sitting on a couch in one of the common areas.]

As others have proposed, we should meet in one of the common areas in the passengers' quarters to speak and gain some semblance of group ethic. We all have skills; we each have something unique that we can bring to the table. It will be easier to see how we can help one another and how we can contribute to our situation if we can see each other, face-to-face, and decide where to go from there.


[ooc: I...will be putting up an open meet-and-greet log shortly, so bear with me, please! here is the log!]

-- On the off chance that anyone on board the Normandy is receiving this signal? This is Garrus Vakarian.

[ The voice that flickers on in a burst of static sounds like it has some kind of effect added to it -- like there are two tones, speaking at once, a lower-pitched hum barely audible underneath a more normal sounding voice. To anyone in the know, that's a Turian voice. To anyone else, that probably just sounds weird as fuck. ]

Be advised that the channel is insecure. Requesting coordinates, as well as immediate pickup. We just got done saving the galaxy, and I could honestly do with a bit of a vacation.

But failing that. [ With a small sigh, because that shit is a long shot, focusing back on everyone else on the network. ] Has anyone taken a look around the ship, yet? It's -- not anything I recognize so far, but I'm no expert.

[ It wasn’t the first time she’d been confused over her identity, though this was the first time she had woken up in her underwear in a tube of goo. At least, from what she could remember… Hell, she didn’t remember large chunks of time, but she hoped this wasn’t some taboo hobby lurking in the weeds.
 
She just knew that the sight of the number tattooed on her arm had given her the chills that she had done her best to suppress for more pressing matters. Clothes, mainly. Things were slipping back into place slowly; enough that she could tell whatever had happened was troubling…
 
The lockers had caught her eye, namely when she saw the 025 that matched the number on her arm, opening it to find items that were mainly sentimental; a few books, an elastic or two… and blades to match. She’d slipped into the suit and slipped the blades away. If anything those were familiar.
 
When the screen flickers on there is a pretty – well, paranoid looking blonde on the other side. She’s not quuuuuuiiiiite remembered that ‘line’ is the only face she allows most of the time, though bluntness has not evaded her yet!]
 
If there is anyone here that can point me in the direction of an obnoxious blond child I would be appreciating it. He is having a hero complex and lacks the ability to speak over a shout… [chewing on her cheek, she straightens; the bare but familiar walls of a sleeping quarters providing the setting for this witch hunt. She seems to reconsider, then:] This STINKS of him.
 
[And now it’s directed at America, because she knows you, you little ass – she can sense yoooooou. Eyes narrowed and she looks downright mean for such a pretty girl] I do not appreciate lacking certain things, Amerika. Clothing... Memories. Nyet, I do remember most of it, enough to know that you mess everything up so this must be your fault. The least you could be doing is directing me to where you rudely put my brother and sister!
 
[now it’s open access once more – which is disappointing because she’s slipped in to looking mildly concerned, skin turning a rather ashen tone] Is there anyone out there at all? [Shh, she has an issue with being alone. Quietly. Stiffening her posture, she seemed to collect the stray scraps of whatever emotion had been displayed before, expression falling into a practiced blank slate, her voice matching. Ah, better.]
 
Whoever is doing this must be found. This ship [as she’d assumed it wasn’t some Hollywood set] is hardly looking safe and is NOT home. This is nothing more than petty kidnapping and you are a coward.
 
[There may have been a few slurs in there, in Russian – to save the kids’ virgin ears, I’m sure. She’s not someone you want angry toward you, though as there are only what, two actual crewmembers anything she COULD do is pretty useless. Good thing she doesn’t know that yet.]

[ It takes some time and positioning, but he finally gets the com-device to where he wants it before double-checking that he's posting to the network at large.

The video starts and others will be able to see a small, blonde man settled in a chair, brows furrowed with a hint of mild concern. ]

Right, yes, hello.

I've been hearing a lot of talk on the network regarding those who have recently been altered to human bodies.

[ His lips pinch a little - to be honest, John is still having a hard time believing this is all real. ]

This is a real issue, especially concerning robotic, um, persons. I understand that those of you who have been affected are pushing for getting your original bodies back, but until that's possible, if that's possible, you need to be able to take care of the one you're currently inhabiting.

My name is John Watson - I'm a medical doctor with twenty years of experience. I'm offering my help to anyone who needs help getting accustomed to their new bodies. Again, I think this is especially important to those who formally had no need to eat or sleep, and may or may not be aware of the particulars of human hygiene or diet.

[ Some humans are this way, too, to be fair. Looking at you, Sherlock. ]

Since this is a personal issue, I'm open to making an individual appointment to see you. You can come see me at my flat or I can come to whatever venue you're comfortable with. Just please contact me and we can figure something out together.

Anyone else who needs medical assistance or advice may also contact me; I'll do what I can to help.

[ He cuts the feed and leans back in his chair to wait and see if good sense overcomes pride. ]

[The video feed clicks on in an odd little space, that may or may not be a storage closet or such somewhere in the ship. The view changes once more as a face takes over as the main focus. Please ignore the scruffy look, blood shot eyes, and slight pallor to his skin. Maintenance of this body is not a big priority with him right now as he holds up what looks like an odd sort of computer table/ipad/futuristic notebook depending on your time and era. He fumbles with it for a bit and seems to be using a finger to write something on it. Stopping and fumbling as if it’s either complicated or he can’t get his hand to move just the right way yet for the process. Or possibly it’s both, either way he finishes and turns it towards the screen showing a very alien script on it.]

( OOC cut for image )

[After a bit he removes it from view and looks expectantly at the camera before he decides to speak.]

Has the central command of the ship been found or explored, or even the security and communication rooms? I do not believe that these devices are the only way to broadcast messages, especially as there would need to be a way to communicate with outposts and other ships that may be sharing the same space as us. How easily defendable would we be in such a case of hostility is completely unknown at present because of these missing facts.

Not to mention chances for civil unrest as well if there isn’t a structured command in which to field any problems.

[He doesn’t elaborate on such anymore, as the real goal of the post has already been accomplished. So the feed clicks off.]



((OOC: Translation: If you can read and understand this, what is your designation and appointed field of duty?))